Ajatasutra eyed the eunuch, for a moment. “I’m puzzled, though. Why the sudden concern?”
The assassin nodded toward the entrance of the tent. “I didn’t catch any of your conversation with Damodara. But I did hear his last sentence. ‘You do not have my permission to do anything, Narses.’ That sounds pretty definite, to me.”
Narses cackled. “What a novice! A babe in the woods!” He leaned forward. “You really must learn to parse a sentence properly, Ajatasutra. ‘You do not have permission,’ my boy, does not mean the same thing as: ‘I forbid you.’ ”
Ajatasutra’s eyes widened. Narses cackled again. “It’s mate in six moves, by the way,” the eunuch added.
A greeting and a grouse
There was not much left of Charax, when Belisarius and Antonina returned from Adulis a few weeks later. But the Persians had managed to salvage enough of the docks for their ship to be moored.
Emperor Khusrau was there to meet them, along with Baresmanas, Kurush and Agathius. The Persians were beaming happily. Agathius was not.
Politely, the Persians allowed Agathius to greet the general first. The Duke of Osrhoene limped forward, aiding his wooden leg and foot with a pair of crutches. “Fine mess you left me,” he grumbled, the moment Belisarius came up to him.
Belisarius glanced around, frowning. “What did you expect? You knew I was going to wreck the place.”
“Not that,” snorted Agathius. “It’s all the irate letters I’ve been getting from the empress. Theodora is demanding to know how I could have been so careless. Letting the Persians get their hands on gunpowder technology.”
“Oh—that.” Belisarius clapped Agathius on the shoulder. “You covered for me, I trust?”
Agathius shrugged. “Sure, why not? I still know how to bake bread, when I get cashiered in disgrace.” Gloomily: “Assuming she lets me keep my head.”
Belisarius turned to Antonina. “The two of you have never met, I believe. Antonina, meet one of my finest generals. Agathius, this is my wife. She is also, I might mention, Theodora’s best friend.”
Agathius extended his hand. “Well. It’s certainly a pleasure to meet you.”
A regret and a cheer
Much later that night, after Khusrau and his entourage left, Belisarius stretched lazily.
“There’s something to be said for having Persians as allies,” he announced. His admiring eyes roamed about the lavishly furnished pavilion which the Aryan emperor had provided for them.
Antonina grinned. “Cut it out, soldier. Since when have you given a damn about luxuries? You just like the idea of dehgans hammering away at somebody else, that’s all.”
Belisarius returned the grin with one of his own. “True, true,” he admitted. “Fills me with pure glee, it does, thinking about the Malwa trying to retreat with those mean bastards climbing all over them.”
After a moment, his amusement faded. Within a very short time, it was gone completely.
“It’s not your fault, love,” said Antonina gently.
Belisarius blew out his cheeks. “No. It isn’t. And if I had to do it over again, I wouldn’t hesitate for a minute. But—”
He sighed. “Most of them are just peasants, Antonina. Not more than twenty thousand will ever make it back to their families in India. Khusrau and Kurush will harry them mercilessly, all the way to the Indus valley.” He rubbed his face. “And if Eon’s new warships can keep the Malwa from landing supplies on the coast, there won’t even be ten thousand survivors.”
It’s not your fault, said Aide.
Belisarius shook his head. “That’s not the point, Aide. Antonina. I’m not concerned with fault. Malwa is to blame for the death of their soldiers, just as surely as they are for the crimes those soldiers committed while they were in Persia. No one else.”
His hands curled into fists. “It’s just—”
Belisarius turned his head, staring into the flame of a lamp. “It’s just that there are times when I really wish I could have been a blacksmith.”
* * *
Silence followed. A minute or so later, Maurice came into the pavilion. The chiliarch gazed on his general, still staring at the lamp.
“Indulging in the usual triumphal melancholy, are we?” he demanded.
Belisarius, not moving his eyes from the lamp, smiled crookedly. “Am I really that predictable?”