Shakuntala watched the contempt twisting their lips. She treasured that contempt. She was counting on that contempt. The Kushans, today, were elite soldiers in the service of the Malwa Empire. But they were also the descendants of those fierce nomads who had erupted out of central Asia, centuries before, and had conquered all of Bactria and Sogdiana and northern India. Conquered it, ruled it—and, as they adopted civilization and the Buddhist faith, ruled it very well indeed. Until the Ye-tai came, and the Malwa, and reduced them to vassalage.
For a long moment, Shakuntala and the Kushans stared at each other. Watching, from the back of the pavilion, Belisarius was struck by the growing warmth of that mutual regard. She, and they, had spent many months in close proximity. And if, during that long and painful captivity, there had been no friendship between them, there had always been respect. A respect which, over time, had become unspoken admiration.
Now, thought Belisarius.
As if she had read his mind, Shakuntala spoke.
“Rao will raise my army. But I will need another force as well. I, too, will need to tread a dangerous path. I will need an imperial bodyguard, to protect me while I restore Andhra.”
She looked away. Said, softly:
“I have given much thought to this matter. I have considered many possibilities. But, always, my thoughts return to one place, and one place only.”
She looked back upon them.
“I can think of no better men to serve as my bodyguard than those who rescued me from the Ye-tai and guarded me so well during all the months at Gwalior.”
Behind him, Belisarius heard Menander’s shocked whisper: “My God! She’s crazy!”
“Bullshit,” hissed Valentinian. “She’s read them perfectly.”
And then Anastasius, his rumbling voice filled with philosophical satisfaction: “Never forget, lad—only the soul matters, in the end.”
One of the Kushans seated in the middle of the front row now spoke. Belisarius did not know the man’s name, but he recognized him as a leader of the Kushan common soldiers. The equivalent of a Roman decarch.
“We must know this, princess. Did—”
“She is not a princess!” snapped one of the Maratha women kneeling behind Shakuntala. Ahilyabai was her name. “She is the Empress of Andhra!”
The Kushan soldier tightened his jaws. Shakuntala raised her hand in an abrupt gesture of command.
“Be still, Ahilyabai! My title does not matter to this man.”
She leaned forward, fixing the Kushan with her black-eyed gaze. “His name is Kujulo, and I know him well. If Kujolo chooses to give me his loyalty, my title will never matter to him. Whether I sit on the throne in rebuilt Amaravati, or crouch behind the battlements of a Maratha hillfort under siege, Kujulo’s sword will always come between me and Malwa.”
The soldier’s tight jaws relaxed. His shoulders spread wider. He stared back at the Empress for a moment and then bowed his head deeply.
“Ask what you will, Kujulo,” said Shakuntala.
The Kushan soldier raised his head. Anger returned to his eyes, and he pointed to Kungas.
“We have been played for fools,” he growled. “Was our commander a part of that trickery?”
Shakuntala’s response was immediate. “No. This is the first time Kungas has been in my presence since you were removed as my guards at Gwalior. I have never spoken to him since that day.” Her voice grew harsh. “But what is the purpose of this question, Kujulo? You have not been played for fools. The Malwa have been the ones played for fools. And not by me, but by the world’s supreme trickster—the foreign General Belisarius.”
All the Kushans stirred, turning their heads. Belisarius took that for his cue, and moved forward to stand before them.
“Kungas has never been a part of our plot,” he said firmly. “Nor any other Kushan soldier.”
He smiled, then, and the Kushans who saw that odd familiar smile suddenly understood just how crooked it truly was.
“Actually,” he continued, “the trickery was needed because of you. There was no way for Rao to rescue the princess so long as you stood guard over her. Even for him, that task was impossible.”
He paused, letting the pride of that knowledge sweep the Kushans. Like Shakuntala, he knew full well that their own self-respect was the key to winning these men.