He braced his feet, set the lance, and spurred his charger forward. Valentinian rode alongside, perhaps a pace behind. Anastasius tried to do the same, but was intercepted by two other Rajputs.
Two seconds later, Belisarius learned why Sanga was a legend.
* * *
Since he first discovered stirrups, Belisarius had never failed to defeat an enemy lancer without them. Until Sanga. The Rajput king avoided the longer and heavier Roman lance by a quick twist in the saddle, and then plunged his own lance downward with all the power of his mighty arm.
Into the neck of Valentinian’s horse. The spear tip penetrated unerringly between two plates in the armor and ruptured arteries. The horse coughed blood and collapsed, spilling Valentinian to the ground.
As always in battle, Aide was augmenting Belisarius’ senses and reflexes. The general’s mind seemed to move as quickly as lightning. But it was ice, not fire, which coursed through his nerves now. Sanga’s stroke, he realized, had been completely purposeful. The Rajput king had seen Valentinian in action, and had obviously made his own estimate of which enemy needed to be taken out first.
Which does not, thought Belisarius grimly, speak well for my prospects.
The Roman general reined his horse around. In the corner of his eye, he saw that Anastasius was now facing three Rajputs. The giant was hammering one of them down, but he would be no immediate help to Belisarius.
Sanga was also wheeling around, ready to charge. He was too close for the heavy lance to be more than a hindrance. Belisarius dropped the weapon and drew his long cavalry saber. He spurred his mount forward.
An instant later, his sword stroke was deflected by Sanga’s shield. Belisarius barely managed to get his own shield up in time to meet Sanga’s counterstrike.
The power of that blow was shocking, especially coming from a man riding a horse without stirrups. Unlike Belisarius, Sanga could only grip his horse with his knees. That incredible sword stroke had been delivered with upper-body strength alone.
Belisarius was a strong man himself, but he knew at once that he was hopelessly outmatched. Fortunately, most very powerful men are slow, and Belisarius hoped—
The next stroke came so quickly that even Belisarius’ Aide-augmented senses could barely react in time to block it. The third blow—Belisarius was not even trying to strike back—was aimed at his thigh. Only Aide’s help allowed Belisarius to interpose his shield quickly enough to keep from having his leg amputated. But the leg went numb. Sanga’s sword had driven the shield into his thigh like a sledge. And had also, judging by the sound, cracked the shield itself.
The next sword cut broke his shield in half. Only the iron outer rim was still holding it together.
Finally, Belisarius swung his own blade. Sanga blocked the cut with his shield and then, with a flashing sweep, hammered the sword right out of Belisarius’ hand. In the backstroke, the Rajput king drove Belisarius half out of the saddle. The Roman’s shield was practically in tatters, now.
Never in his life had Belisarius faced such an incredible opponent. He saw another stroke of that terrible sword coming, and knew he was a dead man. Off balance, with a shredded shield, he had no hope of blocking it.
His mind, Aide-augmented, was still racing. His body could not react in time, but everything seemed to move as slowly as blood in winter. He even had time to find it odd, that his last thought should be:
I can’t believe Raghunath Rao faced this man—for an entire day!
The sword descended. But, at the last instant, veered aside. Not much, but enough to simply knock Belisarius off his horse instead of cutting him in half. The shield absorbed most of the blow, splintering completely, but Belisarius knew his arm was broken. He was half-stunned before he even hit the ground, and that impact dazed him completely.
His eyes were still open. But his mind, for a few seconds, was blank.
He saw Sanga’s horse buckle. Saw the lance jutting into the mount’s throat. Saw Valentinian, on foot, holding the lance and bringing the beast down. Saw Sanga leap free before the horse could pin him, sword still in hand. Saw Valentinian’s first sword stroke, quick as lightning. Saw Sanga parry it, just in time. Saw—