Damodara nodded. “Closer to three to one, I think.” The Malwa lord’s eyes grew a bit vacant. Again, his hands were clasped before him in the gesture of prayer. But there was no emphatic jabbing, this time. The hands were still, except for a slight flexing of the fingers.
Sanga, recognizing the signs, waited. As usual, Damodara did not take long to make his decision.
“I agree,” the Lord said firmly. “We will go north.” He barked another laugh. “With our eyes wide open! And—”
There was a sudden commotion at the entrance to the pavilion. Damodara and Sanga turned. They saw that two of the Lord’s Rajput guards were barring the way of a Ye-tai who, for his part, was expressing his anger in no uncertain terms.
It was General Mihirakula, the commander of Damodara’s Ye-tai troops.
“Let him in!” called out Damodara. The guards stepped aside, and Mihirakula stormed into the pavilion. He cast an angry glance at Rana Sanga before coming to a halt in front of Lord Damodara.
“What is this nonsense I hear?” demanded Mihirakula. “I was just informed by one of your”—another angry glance at Sanga—”Rajput dispatch riders that we are to make preparations for a march. Is this true?”
The question was obviously rhetorical. Mihirakula did not wait for an answer before gesturing angrily at the mountains visible through the open flap of the pavilion.
“Why are we not charging the stinking Romans?” he demanded. “We will brush them aside like flies!” Again, Mihirakula glared at Sanga. “If the Rajputs are too fearful, then my Ye-tai will lead the way!”
The Ye-tai general was a big man, heavy in the shoulders and thick in the chest, but Sanga was as much taller than he as Mihirakula was than Damodara. The Rajput drew himself up to his full towering height. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back, but it was obvious from the tension in Sanga’s powerful arms that he was barely controlling his anger.
Damodara intervened quickly. He placed a slight, restraining hand on Sanga. To the Ye-tai general, he stated firmly: “The orders were mine, General Mihirakula.” Damodara made his own gesture toward the mountains. “The Roman fieldworks here are too powerful. But,” he added, overriding the Ye-tai’s gathering splutter of protest, “my scouts tell me that we may find a way to the north.”
Again, he overrode Mihirakula’s protest. This time, saying with a cheerful smile: “The scouts think there will be opposition, of course. So I was thinking of using you and your men as my vanguard element in the next march.”
The smile Damodara was bestowing on Mihirakula was positively a beam, now. “To clear the way for us, of course. So that we can finally be done with these damned mountains.”
Mihirakula relaxed, a bit. He glanced at Sanga, once again, before replying to Damodara. But the glance had more of satisfaction in it than anger.
“Soon, do you think? My men are very restless.”
Damodara shrugged. “Soon enough. Within a week, I imagine.” He made a little, apologetic grimace. “Marching through these mountains, as you know, is not a quick business.”
All apology and goodwill vanished. Damodara’s next words were spoken in a tone of steel: “And now, General Mihirakula, you will carry out my commands. At once.”
The Ye-tai commander knew that tone. For all his barbarous nature, Mihirakula was not a fool. He bowed his head, stiffly, and departed from the pavilion.
After he was gone, Sanga let out a short, angry grunt. “My Rajputs can lead—” he began, but Damodara waved him silent.
“I am well aware of that, Sanga. But the Ye-tai are getting restless.” He gave Sanga a shrewd glance. “So are your Rajputs, for that matter, even if they control their impatience better.”
Damodara pointed at the map. His finger made little wandering gestures, as if retracing the tortuous route of the past weeks. “Good soldiers grow impatient with this kind of endless maneuvering. Sooner or later, they will demand action. You know that as well as I do.”
Grudgingly, Sanga nodded.
Damodara spread his hands. “So let the Ye-tai lead the way, for now. If there is a trap, they will spring it. To be frank, I’d rather see them bloodied than you.”