By the time Belisarius emerged from his tent, his arm splinted and bound to his chest, the Roman troops themselves had settled into the relaxation of watching the match. More accurately, they listened to the news brought by dispatch riders. Only Maurice, using Belisarius’ telescope, was actually able to see much.
When Belisarius came up to Maurice, the chiliarch lowered the telescope.
“You heard?” he asked. Belisarius nodded.
“Craziest damned thing I’ve ever seen,” muttered Maurice.
His attitude did not surprise Belisarius. Nor Aide:
The custom of single combat between champions is no longer part of Graeco-Roman culture. Hasn’t been, for over a millennium—not since the days of Homer. But it’s still a living part of India’s traditions, at least among Rajputs. Not even two decades of Malwa rule has broken that romantic notion of chivalry.
Belisarius’ eyes studied the pass above. There seemed to be Rajputs covering every inch of the slopes which provided a view of the battle. Even the Rajput units standing guard, assigned to watch for a possible enemy counterattack, had their heads turned away from the Roman army.
If anything, added Aide, their time in the Malwa yoke is making them treasure this moment even more. There has been nothing like this in years, for Rajputana’s warriors. Just the butchery of Ranapur, and Amaravati before that.
Maurice extended the telescope to its rightful owner.
Belisarius shook his head. “One of two men I treasure is going to die, today. I have no desire to watch it.”
Aide’s voice, soft: I am sorry for it, too.
Maurice brought the telescope back to his eye and resumed observing the battle. He had expected Belisarius’ response. His offer of the telescope had been more in the way of a formality than anything else.
But he was still astonished by the Malwa commander.
“Craziest thing I’ve ever seen,” he repeated. “What the hell is Damodara thinking?” He pulled the telescope a few inches from his eye and used it to point at the huge force of Rajputs covering the entire pass. “All he has to do is give the order, and Valentinian is a pincushion. You couldn’t see him, for all the arrows sticking out of his body.”
Belisarius shook his head. “No Rajput would obey that order, and Damodara knows it. If he sent anyone else, the Rajputs would kill them. And Damodara himself, most likely, if they thought he’d given the command. Besides—”
Belisarius stared across the river, and up the slope. He was not trying to watch the battle between Sanga and Valentinian. He was simply searching, in his mind’s eye, for Damodara.
Aide verbalized his thoughts. A man who rides a tiger long enough begins to think like a tiger himself.
* * *
“This is utter madness!” snarled the Malwa spymaster. He glared down at Damodara, and pointed to the enemy army across the river half a mile distant. “While you waste time in this frivolity, the Romans are making their escape!”
The Malwa commander, squatting comfortably on a cushion, did not respond for a few seconds. His eyes remained fixed on the two men battling fiercely a few dozen yards away. When he did reply, his tone was mild.
“It’s a moot point, Isanavarman.” Damodara glanced down the slope. “Under no circumstances would I order my army to force the river against that opponent.” His tone hardened. “I certainly have no intention of giving such an order today. Not after the losses we’ve taken, from those infernal handcannons.”
His eyes moved to the spymaster. They were hard, cold eyes. “Of whose existence I was not informed, by men whose duty it is to know such things.”
The spymaster did not flush. But he looked away. Behind him, his three top subordinates tried to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible.
“The best spies in the world,” muttered Isanavarman, “cannot discover everything.”
The spymaster gave Narses a sour look. The eunuch was squatting on his own cushion next to Damodara. At Damodara’s left hand—the position allotted, by Indian custom, to a lord’s chief civilian adviser. “Did your Roman pet warn you?” demanded Isanavarman, almost snarling. “He has his own spies.”
“Not more than a few,” responded Damodara. The Malwa commander was back to watching the battle. “Nothing like the horde of spies which Nanda Lal placed at your disposal.”