“Yes, sir. They stopped putting a guard over me. But I had to swear that I would make no attempt to escape and that I wouldn’t fight, except in self-defense. And I’ll have to go back with them, of course, after this parley.”
Valentinian’s feral, weasel grin made its appearance. “On the other hand, they didn’t make me swear I’d keep my mouth shut.” Another glance at the pavilion. “I’ve learned some things, General. Real quick: you were right about Damodara’s arms complex. It’s in Marv, just like Vasudeva thought it might be. They’ll have their own handcannons soon enough. The Malwa have already started making them, in Kausambi. But Damodara’s boasting that he’ll have his own, made in Marv.”
Belisarius shook his head. “He wasn’t boasting, Valentinian—and he didn’t tell you by accident. He knows you’ll pass on the information. He wants me to have it.”
Valentinian frowned. “Why would he do that?”
“Because he’s a very smart man. Smart enough to understand something which few generals do. Sometimes a secret given away can serve as well as a secret kept. Or even better. He’s probably hoping I’ll try to make a raid on Marv, once he forces me out of the Zagros, rather than retreating into Mesopotamia. The city’s in an oasis, and I’m sure he’s got it fortified like Satan’s jaws. We’d be eaten alive, trying to storm the place, and the few table scraps would be snapped up in the desert.”
Valentinian squinted at him, as if he were seeing double. His hand, again, touched his helmet gingerly.
“Christ,” he muttered. “How can you stand to think all crooked like that? My head hurts, just trying to follow.” He made a little hiss. “And I still don’t understand why Damodara would do it. He can’t really think you’d fall for it.”
Belisarius shrugged. “Probably not. But you never know. It’s worth a try.” He scratched his chin. “The man’s a lot like me, I believe. In some ways, at least. He likes an oblique approach, and he keeps his eye on all the angles.”
Another hiss came from Valentinian. “God, my head hurts.”
Belisarius took Valentinian by the arm and began leading him toward the pavilion. As they neared, walking slowly, Valentinian remembered something else.
“Oh, yeah. Maurice was right about Narses, too. He’s—”
Belisarius nodded. He had already spotted the small figure of the old eunuch in the shade of the pavilion.
He smiled crookedly. “I imagine, by now, that Narses is running the whole show for Damodara.”
Valentinian grinned. It was an utterly murderous expression.
“Would you believe how successful that raid was? You know—the cavalry raid against the Malwa camp that you must have ordered, even though I never knew about it and I was right by your side the whole time.”
Belisarius grinned himself. “A brilliant stroke, that was. So brilliant that my own memory is blinded.”
Mine too, concurred Aide. Firmly: But I’m sure you must have ordered it. And I’m quite sure the raid was a roaring success.
“Killed every one of Damodara’s top spies,” murmured Valentinian. They were almost at the pavilion. “Vicious Romans slit their throats, neat as you could ask for.”
They were entering the pavilion, now. Valentinian moved aside and Belisarius strode to the low table at the center. Damodara and Sanga nodded a greeting. Damodara was smiling; Sanga, stiff and solemn. Narses, sitting far back from the table, was glaring. But he, too, managed a nod.
Gracefully, with the practiced ease of his time in India, Belisarius folded himself into a lotus and took a seat on one of the cushions.
He saw no reason to waste time on meaningless diplomatic phrasery.
“What is the purpose of this parley?” he asked. The statement, for all the brusqueness of the words, was not so much a demand as a simple inquiry. “I can’t see where there’s any military business to discuss.” He waved at Valentinian. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about his ransom.”
Damodara chuckled. Belisarius continued.
“So what’s the point of talking? You’re trying to get into Mesopotamia, and I’m trying to stop you. Slow you down, more precisely. You’ve managed to drive me almost out of the Zagros—we’re not so many miles from the floodplains, now—but I kept you tied up for months in the doing. That’s bought time for Emperor Khusrau, and time for my general Agathius to build up the Roman forces in Mesopotamia.”