Damodara’s eyes were wide open. His next words were almost choked out.
“Are you telling me that—” He waved his hand, weakly, as if to encompass all of time and space. “Everything we’ve done, for months—all the maneuvers and the fighting—even the battle at the pass—was a feint?”
Sanga nodded. “Yes, Lord. It was all a feint. Belisarius was buying time, yes. But he wasn’t buying time for Emperor Khusrau, or his man Agathius in Peroz-Shapur. He was buying it for himself. Until the time was right, and the preparations were finished, and he could finally strike at his true target. Now that Emperor Khusrau’s retreat has drawn our main army out of Charax, the Roman can drive home the death stroke.”
“Here,” said Sanga. His finger speared a point on the map. “At Charax.”
Damodara’s eyes, already wide, were almost bulging.
“That’s insane!” he cried. “Charax is the most fortified place in the world! Even without the main army there, the garrison is still the size of Belisarius’ army. Bigger! There’s no way on earth he could storm the place—not even if he had siege guns.”
Narses interrupted. His voice was dry and cold, like arctic ice.
“Have you ever heard of the Trojan Horse, Lord Damodara?” he asked. The Malwa lord twisted his head, transferring the incredulous gaze to Narses.
The old eunuch chuckled humorlessly. “Never mind. I will tell you the tale some other time. But you can trust me on this, Lord. That—”
He jabbed a finger at the helmet resting on the table. “That is a Trojan helmet.” Narses laughed. There was actual humor in that laugh, mixed with rueful admiration.
“God, has the world even seen such a schemer?” He laughed again. “Those helmets, Lord Damodara, tell you the truth. They were discarded by Belisarius’ two thousand Goth mercenaries, now that they no longer needed them to maintain the disguise. For those men were never Goths to begin with.”
Damodara’s mind finally tracked the trail. His eyes remained wide. His jaws tightened. The next words came between clenched teeth.
“There were two thousand Kushans in the army which Belisarius destroyed at Anatha last year. We always assumed they were slaughtered along with the rest.”
Rana Sanga ran fingers through his thick hair. Then he, too, laughed—and, like Narses, his laugh was mixed rue and admiration.
“He used the same trick against us in India,” mused Sanga. “Turned the allegiance of Kushans, and then left a false trail, so that the Kushans could do his real work.”
Damodara was back to staring at the map. After a moment, his eyes narrowed.
“This still doesn’t make sense,” he said softly. He tapped his finger on the location of Charax. “I can see where he might get into Charax, using Kushans as his entry. And, certainly, once he got in—” Damodara snorted. “His soldiers, against garrison troops, would be like wolves in a sheep pen.”
Slowly, the Malwa lord rose up, leaning on the table. His eyes went back and forth from Sanga to Narses.
“But then—how does he get out?”
Again, Damodara’s finger tapped the map. This time, very forcefully, like a finger of accusation.
“Our main force is still not more than a few days’ march away from Charax. Before Belisarius could finish his work of destruction, he would be surrounded by the largest army in the world. No way to escape. He couldn’t even sail out on the cargo ships in the harbor. He couldn’t get through the screen of war galleys stationed in the outer harbor. And not even Belisarius—not even behind those fortifications—can hold more than a few weeks against fifteen-to-one odds. Two months, at the outside.”
Again, the jabbing finger. “It’s a suicide mission!” he exclaimed. “Impossible!”
Sanga shook his head. “Why so, Lord? Belisarius is as courageous as any man alive. I would lay down my life for my country and honor. Why would not he?”
Damodara was shaking his head before the Rajput even finished. “That’s not the point, Sanga. For honor and country, yes. But for this?”
Sanga stared up at Damodara, as if he were gazing at a unicorn. Or a cretin.
“Lord Damodara,” he said, speaking slowly, “do you understand what Belisarius will do? Once he is in Charax—”