Belisarius did not even think of turning back. The thought of undergoing that gauntlet again almost made him shudder. There would be no point, anyway. Bouzes was in command of the three thousand infantrymen manning the villa, with five hundred Constantinople cataphracts to back him up. Belisarius was quite confident of their ability to fight off the first attack.
Coutzes and Agathius, seeing the general emerge, hurried to meet him. Their own pace was not quick. The area to the rear of the villa held the rest of the Greek cataphracts and the Syrian cavalry—over four thousand men, along with their horses. But the population density was not as extreme as it had been in the villa itself. The imperial compound’s wall-enclosed western grounds were many acres in extent. Open areas, for the most part, interspersed with bridle paths, hedges, patios and scattered trees.
Within a few seconds, Belisarius was consulting with his cavalry commanders. All three of them spoke loudly, due to the rapidly escalating noise coming from the other side of the villa. Malwa and Roman battle cries were mingled with the sound of grenade explosions.
Belisarius’ first words were, “How many casualties?”
“They’d have done better to use catapults,” snorted Agathius. He looked at Coutzes. “What would you say? Twenty, maybe—overall?”
Coutzes shrugged. “If that many. Only three fatal-ities, that I know of.”
“What about the horses?” asked the general.
Agathius rocked his head back and forth. “They’re a little skittish, general. But we were able to keep them pretty much under control. Don’t think we lost more than a dozen. Most of those’ll be back, in a few hours, except a couple who broke their fool necks jumping the rear wall.”
Coutzes laughed. “I don’t think Abbu’s precious horse will be coming back! I swear, general, the fucking thing almost jumped over the trees as well as the wall!”
Agathius grinned. Belisarius’ eyes widened.
“Abbu’s—you mean that gelding he dotes on?”
” ‘Dotes on’?” demanded Coutzes. “That gelding’s the apple of the old brigand’s eye! He practically sleeps with the damn beast.”
“Not any more,” chuckled Agathius. “He’s fit to be tied, he is. Last I saw he was standing on the wall shooting arrows at the creature. Didn’t come close, of course—the gelding was already halfway to Antioch.”
Belisarius shook his head. He was smiling, but the smile was overlaid with concern. “Did he manage—”
Coutzes cut him off.
“Don’t worry, general. Abbu sent the Arab couriers off as soon as we gave him the word. Half an hour ago, at least. Maurice’ll have plenty of warning that the plans have changed.”
Belisarius’ smile grew very crooked. “I’m glad I won’t be there to hear him, cursing me for a fussbudget.” He did a fair imitation of Maurice’s rasping voice: “What am I? A babe in swaddling clothes—a toddler—has to be told to pay attention because plans are changing? Of course the plan’s changing! Aren’t I the one who taught that—that—that general—that plans always change when the enemy arrives?”
Coutzes grinned. Agathius’ expression was serious.
“You think he’ll be ready, then?” he asked. “I’ll admit, I’m a bit worried about it. They weren’t expecting to be called on this soon.”
Belisarius clapped a hand on Agathius’ heavy shoulder.
“Don’t,” he said softly. “If there’s one thing in this world you can be sure of, it’s that Maurice won’t ever be caught napping in a battle. The only reason I sent the couriers was to make sure he’d move out the second we fired the signal rockets, instead of fifteen seconds later.”
He turned to Coutzes. “Speaking of which . . .”
Coutzes pointed to a small copse of trees fifty yards distant.
“In there, general. Aimed and ready to fire as soon as you give the word. One red; followed by a green. And we’ve got three back-up rockets of each color in case one of them misfires.”
Belisarius nodded. He turned his head back toward the villa, listening to the sound of the battle. Even buffered by the villa, the noise was intense. Intense, and growing more so by the second. The grenade explosions were almost continuous, now.
The general and his two officers listened for perhaps a minute, without speaking. Then Coutzes stated, very firmly, “Not a chance.”