Again, Sati intervened.
“That is enough, Rana Sanga. You have already been privileged beyond all others save Malwa. Do not press the matter further. Yours, finally, is to obey.”
Sanga arose, prostrated himself, left the room.
* * *
Nanda Lal was waiting for him in Lord Tathagata’s chamber—in Lord Tathagata’s former chamber. The Lords Jivita and Damodara were there also.
“You were right, Rana Sanga,” began Nanda Lal immediately. “It was obvious, as soon as I correlated facts already in our possession.”
The spymaster’s face was truly that of an ogre, now.
“Several of my subordinates will be severely disciplined for neglecting to present those facts to me earlier. Severely.”
That meant mutilation, possibly blinding. Sanga could not find any pity in his heart for those unknown subordinates. He had no love for Malwa spies, even competent ones.
“What are the facts?” he demanded.
“A Ye-tai soldier—a member of the imperial bodyguard, in fact—disappeared in Kausambi the very night Belisarius made his escape. He has never returned to his unit.”
Lord Jivita, frowning:
“I still don’t understand why you place such significance on that fact, Nanda Lal. Ye-tai are practically savages. Their discipline—”
“Is absolutely savage,” interrupted Sanga. “I agree with Nanda Lal. Say what you will about Ye-tai barbarousness, Lord Jivita. The fact remains that no Ye-tai—no member of the imperial bodyguard, for a certainty—would dare remain absent from his post. Ye-tai who fail to report even a day late are subject to cane-lashes which can be crippling. Those whose absence stretches two days are crippled. Three days, beheaded. Four days, impaled. Five days or longer, on a short stake.”
Nanda Lal nodded. “And it makes sense. Ye-tai more closely resemble Westerners than any other of our peoples. Belisarius could pass himself off as one without much difficulty.”
“He does not speak the language,” protested Jivita.
“I would not be so sure of that,” retorted Sanga. A bit guiltily: “He is an extraordinary linguist. I noticed myself how quickly he became fluent in Hindi, and with almost no trace of an accent. I never heard him speak—”
He stopped, almost gasped.
“I’m a idiot!”
To Nanda Lal, fiercely:
“Have you interviewed the soldiers—the Ye-tai, especially—whom Belisarius rallied for the counter-charge at Ranapur?”
Nanda Lal shook his head. For a moment, he seemed puzzled, until comprehension came.
“Of course! How could he rally the Ye-tai—”
“It can be done,” stated Sanga. “Hindi alone, and harsh measures, would have done it. But when you interview those soldiers, I think you will discover that he speaks perfect Ye-tai.”
The Rajput began pacing back and forth.
“What else?”
“A squad of soldiers reports that a single Ye-tai departed Kausambi through the Panther Gate the following morning.”
“And they allowed him through?” demanded Jivita.
Nanda Lal shrugged. “He was a very fierce and brutal Ye-tai, by their account. He even attacked their sergeant when asked for documents. You can hardly expect common soldiers—”
“Discipline the dogs!” bellowed Jivita. “Give them lashes!”
Sanga and Damodara exchanged glances. Sanga spoke:
“I will deal with the matter, Lord Jivita. I will be passing through the Panther Gate within the hour. I will lash those men myself. You have my word on it.”
“Excellent!” exclaimed Jivita.
“I’m off, then.” Sanga began to turn away. Nanda Lal called him back.
“A moment, Rana Sanga. I want your opinion.”
“Yes?”
The spymaster’s broken face was ugly, with frustration as much as rage.
“We are still missing something. I can feel it in my bones,” he growled. “It’s clear enough that the Romans and Ethiopians who fled south—after killing the guards at the barge and blowing up the armory—were simply a diversion. Belisarius, himself, went west. But—there’s something else. I can smell it. More duplicity.”
Sanga paused, thinking.
“I don’t have much time now, Nanda Lal,” he mused. “But several questions come to my mind. I suggest you think on them.”
“Yes?”
“First. What happened to the treasure? Belisarius had two great chests full of gold and jewels. It’s not the kind of thing any man wants to leave behind. But how did he get it away? He himself—a single Ye-tai on foot—could have only been carrying a pittance. Nor could his underlings have carried more than a portion of it. Not maintaining their incredible pace, weighted down with all that treasure.”