From the corner of her eye, Irene studied Kungas. She was a bit fascinated by the way he moved. Silently, and surely—more like a cat than a thick, stocky man. But, mostly, she was fascinated by Kungas himself. Such a thick, hard, rigid statue, he seemed. But she had not missed the warm humor lurking inside the bronze casting, nor the intelligence.
Then, turning her eyes to the front, she gave her head a little shake.
You’re the envoy from Rome, she reminded herself. For a moment, her fingers plucked at her heavy robes. So just forget it, woman. Besides, the man can’t even read.
* * *
“How long does Rao think it will take Venandakatra to bring up the siege guns?” asked Shakuntala. The empress, seated on a plush cushion, leaned forward from her lotus position. Her brow was wrinkled, as if she were a schoolgirl straining to understand a lesson.
Irene was not fooled by Shakuntala’s resemblance to a young student. That is one very worried monarch, she thought, watching from her vantage point against the east wall of the small audience chamber.
Irene’s translator leaned over, whispering, but she stilled him with a gesture. Her Hindi had improved well enough that she was able to follow the discussion. Irene had an aptitude for languages—that skill was a necessity for a spymaster in Rome’s polyglot empire—and she had been tutored by Belisarius before leaving Constantinople. In the months since her arrival at Suppara, she had been immersed in Hindi. And Marathi. As was true of most Indian monarchs, Shakuntala used Hindi as the court language, but Irene had begun learning the common tongue of Majarashtra as well.
“How long?” repeated the empress.
Seated easily in his own lotus position, Kungas shrugged. “It is difficult to say, Your Majesty. Many factors are involved. The siege guns were at Bharakuccha. Venandakatra has thus been forced to haul them across the Great Country. Very difficult terrain, as you know, through which to move huge war engines. And Rao has been harassing the Malwa column with his mountain fighters.”
“Can he stop them?” demanded Shakuntala. “Before they can bring the guns to Deogiri?”
Kungas shook his head. As with all the man’s gestures, the movement was slight—but emphatic, for all that.
“Not a chance, Your Majesty. He can slow it down, but he does not have the forces to stop it. Venandakatra has reinforced the column’s escort with every spare military unit at his disposal. He cannot reduce Deogiri without those guns—and with them, he cannot fail. Any one of those cannons is big enough to shatter Deogiri’s walls, and he has six of them.”
Shakuntala winced. For a moment, Kungas’ face seemed to soften. Just a tiny bit.
“There is this much, Your Majesty,” he added. “The Vile One has been forced to end the punitive raids in the countryside. He cannot spare the men. Every cavalry troop he has, beyond the ones investing Deogiri, are assigned to guard the column bringing the cannons.”
Shakuntala rubbed her face. For all her youth, it seemed an old, tired gesture. Venandakatra’s atrocities in the Maratha countryside, Irene knew, had preyed heavily on her soul. Even by Malwa standards, Venandakatra was a beast. The man’s official title was Goptri of the Deccan—the “Warden of the Marches,” assigned by the Malwa emperor to subjugate his most unruly new province. But by Marathas themselves, the man was called nothing but the Vile One.
Shakuntala’s face rubbing ended, within seconds. Her natural energy and assertiveness returned.
“It is up to us, then,” she pronounced. “We must organize a relief column of our own.”
The two Maratha cavalry officers seated next to Kungas stirred, and glanced at each other. The senior of them, a general by the name of Shahji, cleared his throat and spoke.
“I do not think that is wise, Empress. We have been able to hold Suppara, and the coast, but our forces are still not strong enough to relieve Rao at Deogiri.”
“Unless we took our whole army,” qualified Kondev, the other Maratha general. “But that would leave Suppara defenseless.”
Shakuntala’s face tightened. Kondev drove home the point:
“You have a responsibility here also, Your Majesty.”