The man disappeared. He returned about a minute later, preceded by Bouzes. As soon as he stepped into the doorway, Bouzes cupped his hands around his mouth, forming an impromptu megaphone, and hollered:
“Let’s set up a relay! With your permission, sir!”
Belisarius thought the problem over. For a second or two, no more. He nodded, and waved his hand. Then, copying Bouzes’ handcupping, shouted back:
“Good idea! Leave Felix in the door! If the Kushans lead the next charge, let me know!” He paused, taking a deep breath, before continuing:
“If they do—tell me the moment they start their charge!”
Bouzes waved back, acknowledging. The chiliarch spoke a few words to Felix and disappeared. The Syrian soldier remained in the doorway. His stance was erect and alert. Even from the distance, Belisarius could see the stern expression on the man’s face. A young face, it was—almost a boy’s face. But it was also the face of a man determined to do his duty, come what may.
Belisarius smiled. “You’re in for a promotion, lad,” he whispered. “As soon as the battle’s over, I think.”
The general now concentrated on listening. The sounds of battle had died away, in the last few minutes. Clearly enough, the Malwa had been beaten back and were regrouping.
He decided he had enough time to make his own preparations.
Again, he made his way back through the rear building and onto the western grounds. Agathius was waiting, not twenty feet from the doorway. The Constantinople cataphract was already mounted on his horse.
Quickly, Belisarius explained the signal relay. Then:
“It’ll be a few minutes. Get me a horse, will you? I won’t be relaying the message. I’ll just come straight back and join you.”
He pointed to the doorway.
“As soon as you see me coming through that door, have the cornicens order the sally. That’ll give me just enough time to mount up.”
Agathius nodded. Then, with a frown:
“Where are your bodyguards?”
Belisarius shrugged, smiling whimsically.
“We got separated, it seems. They must be lost in the crowd.”
The Greek chiliarch’s frown deepened.
“I’m not sure I like that, general. The idea of you leading a sally without your bodyguards, I mean.”
Belisarius scowled.
“I assure you, Agathius, I was taking care of myself long before—”
“Still—”
“Enough.”
Agathius opened his mouth, closed it. “Yes, sir. It’ll be as you say.”
Belisarius nodded and strode back toward the gardens. This time, as he made his way through the building, he ordered the men inside to clear a lane for him.
“I’ll be coming through here, soon enough, running as fast as I can. I warn you, boys—I’ll trample right over the man standing in my way. And I’m wearing spurs, I hope you notice.”
The soldiers grinned, pressed aside, cheered.
Belisarius! Belisarius!
His only acknowledgement:
That sorry bastard will be fucked.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Felix called out the news across the gardens. “The Kushans are lining up! They’ll be leading the attack!”
Five minutes after he shouted, “They’re coming!”
Then:
“Now! Now! Now!”
For a man wearing full cataphract armor, Belisarius thought he did quite well, racing—so to speak—through the building. The men who formed the flesh-and-steel walls on both sides certainly thought so, judging from their encouragement.
Belisarius! Belisarius!
Go, general! Go! Go!
And, one enthusiast:
“Goddam, that man can waddle!”
As soon as he burst out of the doorway onto the grounds, the cornicens started blowing. From the corner of his eye, Belisarius caught the red and green bursts of the signal rockets. But the sole focus of his eyes was the saddled and readied horse ahead of him.
Belisarius almost stumbled, then, from sheer surprise. Standing by the horse, ready to hoist the general aboard, was Anastasius. The giant’s own charger was not far away, with a mounting stool at its side.
“How’d you get here?” demanded the general.
“Don’t ask,” grunted Anastasius, heaving Belisarius onto the horse by sheer brute strength. The huge cataphract headed for his own horse.
Belisarius gathered up the reins. He could see the mass of Greek cataphracts and Syrian light cavalry starting their sally. The horsemen were already dividing into columns, splitting around the villa, heading for the portals in the opposite walls.