FORTUNE’S STROKE BY ERIC FLINT DAVID DRAKE

Rao, the supreme Andhra loyalist, did so in order to rescue the legitimate heir of the dynasty. Yes, of course. But he was also rescuing the girl whom he had raised since the age of seven, after her father, the Emperor of Andhra, had placed the child in the Maratha chieftain’s care. The mutual devotion between Rao and Shakuntala was something of a legend itself, by now.

To all outward appearances, it was the attachment of a young woman and her older mentor. But Irene suspected that under the surface lay much more passionate sentiments. Sentiments which were perhaps all the fiercer, for never having been spoken or acted on by either person.

The junior advisers were still jabbering, so Irene continued her ruminations. Irene had her own opinion regarding the question of Shakuntala’s possible dynastic marriage. That opinion was still tentative, but it seemed to her that Shakuntala’s advisers were missing—

Her thoughts broke off. Kungas was finally speaking.

“I disagree. I think this is all quite premature.” His words were all the more forceful for the quiet manner in which he spoke them. Kungas’ voice exuded the same sense of iron certainty as his mask of a face. “The Chola offer, as I understand it, is filled with quibbles and reservations.”

Holkar began to interrupt, but Kungas drove on.

“If the empress breaks the siege of Deogiri,” he stated, “and thereby proves that she can hold southern Majarashtra, there will certainly be a better offer. From someone, if not the Cholas.”

Holkar threw up his hands. “If! If!” He lowered his hands and, with an obvious effort, brought himself under control. Irene realized that—unusually, for the mild-mannered peshwa—the man was genuinely angry.

“If, Kungas,” he repeated, through teeth that were almost clenched. “If.” Holkar leaned forward, slapping the rug before him emphatically. “But that is precisely the point! We do not have the troops to simultaneously relieve Deogiri and hold Suppara and the coast.”

Holkar sprang to his feet and strode over to a window in the west wall. He stared out at the ocean lying beyond. From her vantage point on the opposite side of the chamber, Irene could not see the ocean itself, but she knew what the peshwa was looking at.

Malwa warships, dozens of them. Holding position, as they had for weeks, just out of range of the three great cannons protecting Suppara’s harbor. Each of those warships had a large contingent of marines, ready to land at a moment’s notice.

The Malwa had made no attempt to storm Suppara for months now. But in the first few weeks after Irene was smuggled through the blockade on an Axumite vessel, she had watched while they made three furious assaults. Each of those attacks had been beaten off, but it had taken the efforts of all of Shakuntala’s soldiers—as well as the four hundred Ethiopian sarwen under Ezana’s command—to do so.

Holkar turned away from the window. He gave Kungas a hard, stony look, before turning his eyes to Shakuntala. “Shahji and Kondev are correct, Empress. We cannot relieve the siege of Deogiri without leaving Suppara defenseless. I do not therefore see—”

“We do not have to relieve Deogiri,” interrupted Kungas. “We simply have to destroy the siege guns.”

Holkar froze. Still standing, he frowned down at Kungas.

The Kushan warrior’s shoulders seemed to twitch, just a bit. Irene, learning to interpret Kungas’ economical gestures, decided that was a shrug. With just a hint of irony, she thought. Perhaps some amusement.

What an interesting man. Who would have expected so much subtlety, in such an ugly lump?

“Explain, Kungas,” said Shahji.

Again, Kungas’ shoulders made that tiny twitch.

“I discussed the situation with Rao. The problem is not the siege itself. Rao is quite certain that he can hold Deogiri from the Vile One’s army. You are Maratha, Shahji. You know how strong those walls are. Deogiri is the most impregnable city in the Great Country.”

Shahji nodded. So did Kondev.

“Water is not a problem,” continued Kungas. “Deogiri has its own wells. Nor is Rao concerned about starvation. Venandakatra simply doesn’t have enough troops to completely seal off Deogiri. The Panther’s men are all Maratha. They know the countryside, and have the support of the people there. Since the beginning of the siege, Rao has been able to smuggle food and provisions through the Vile One’s lines. And he long ago smuggled out all of the civilians of the city. He only has to feed his own troops.”

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