Nanda Lal was frowning, but silent. Emperor Skandagupta prompted him. “If something is troubling you, cousin, speak up,” he commanded. “I can’t imagine what it is.”
Skandagupta reached for the cup of tea resting on a side table next to his throne. “Best news we’ve had in months. Belisarius has finally been beaten!”
Lady Sati shook her head. The gesture carried a certainty far beyond her years—as if she were already possessed by the divine being which would someday inhabit her body. But the certainty was simply born of habit and training. Sati had spent more time in the company of Link than any other person in the world. (Other than her aunt Holi, of course. But Great Lady Holi was no longer a human being. Holi was nothing, now, beyond Link’s sheath.)
“He has not been beaten,” she said. “Simply driven off, for a time. There is a difference.”
Finally, Nanda Lal spoke. “Quite a difference,” he growled in agreement. The spymaster took a deep breath. “But it is not Belisarius who concerns me, at the moment. It is Damodara.”
The emperor’s eyes widened. Lady Sati’s did not. “You are concerned about the arms complex in Marv,” she stated.
Nanda Lal extended a thick hand, wobbling it back and forth. “In itself—no. Not much, anyhow. We discussed that matter weeks ago, you recall, when we first discovered the fact.”
“Yes, we did,” interrupted the emperor. “And we agreed that it was not worth making an issue over.” Skandagupta shrugged. “It is against Malwa law, true. But we gave Damodara a most thankless task, and can hardly complain when he improved his odds.”
The emperor fixed narrow, fat-shrouded eyes on Nanda Lal. “So why the sudden concern?” Forcefully: “I myself am very partial to Damodara. He is far and away our best military commander. Energetic and practical.”
“Which is precisely what bothers me,” countered Nanda Lal. “Your Majesty,” he added, almost as a casual afterthought.
Nanda Lal reached to another side table and picked up a scroll. He waved it before him.
“This is a report from a man named Pulumayi, which supplements Lord Damodara’s account of the recent battle in the Zagros where Belisarius was beaten.”
The emperor frowned. “Pulumayi? Who is he? Never heard of him.” He raised his cup toward his mouth.
Nanda Lal snorted. “Neither had I! I had to check my records, to verify his claim.” He drew air into his nostrils. “Apparently, Pulumayi is now my chief spy in Damodara’s army.”
Skandagupta’s cup paused before reaching his lips. “What happened to Isanavarman?” he demanded.
“He is dead,” came Nanda Lal’s harsh reply. “Along with all my top agents. Pulumayi succeeded to Isanavarman’s post because he is the most highly ranked survivor—” Again, that deep-drawn breath. “It seems that Belisarius’ cavalry raided Damodara’s camp during the battle.”
Nanda Lal tapped the scroll in the palm of his left hand. “So, at least, this report claims. I do not doubt the claim—not insofar as the casualties are concerned, that is. Their actual cause may be otherwise.”
Lady Sati’s fingers came to a stop. They did not clench the armrests. Not exactly. But the grip was very firm.
“You suspect Damodara,” she stated. Her quick, Link-trained mind sped beyond. “Narses.”
“Yes. The entire affair is too convenient.” Again, Nanda Lal lifted the scroll. “This, combined with the arms complex, is making me uneasy.”
Abruptly, Skandagupta drained his cup and set it down, rattling, on the side table. “I still think it’s nonsense! I’ve known Damodara since he was a toddler. That’s a practical man if you’ll ever meet one. And he’s not given to ambition, beyond a reasonable measure.”
Slowly, Nanda Lal shook his head. “No, Emperor, he is not. But practicality is a malleable thing. What is impractical one day, may be practical on the morrow. As for ambition—?” He sniffed. “That, too, changes with the tide.”
When Sati spoke, her voice was low and calm. “Your fear is for the future, then. Not the immediate present. A possibility.”
“Yes.” Nanda Lal paused. “Yes, that. I do not propose to take action, at the moment. But I think we should not close our eyes to the—possibility, as you call it.”