In the Heart of Darkness by Eric Flint & David Drake

Shakuntala told him what it was. When she finished, the room erupted with protests from everyone except Menander.

“I’m for it,” repeated the young cataphract stubbornly.

“Fool girl is mad,” muttered Ousanas. “I say it again—royalty stupid by nature.”

Shakuntala overrode all protests with the simplest of arguments.

I command.

Protest, protest, protest.

I command.

Protest, protest, protest.

I command.

On the way out, Kanishka complained bitterly to his commander.

“How are we supposed to be an imperial bodyguard if the damned Empress herself—”

Kungas looked at him. As always, his face showed nothing. But there might have been just a trace of humor in his words:

“You could always go back to work for Venandakatra. He never took any personal risks.”

Kanishka shut up.

As he and Nanda Lal walked out of the palace that evening, Belisarius found that a palanquin had already been brought up to convey them to the Great Lady Holi’s barge. The palanquin was festooned with the red and gold pennants of the dynasty. The pennants alone guaranteed that all would give way to the palanquin, wherever it went in the teeming capital. But they were hardly necessary. The forty Ye-tai bodyguards who rode before the palanquin would cheerfully trample anyone so foolish as to get in the way. And the palanquin ­itself, toted by no less than twelve slaves, looked solid and heavy enough to crush an elephant.

“Quite an entourage,” he murmured. “Does she really insist on so many bodyguards?”

Nanda Lal shook his head.

“As it happens, the Great Lady is petrified by armed strangers anywhere in the vicinity of her barge. She maintains her own special security force. She does not even trust the imperial bodyguard.” The spymaster pointed to the red-and-gold uniformed Ye-tai. “Only four of these men will be allowed to remain after we arrive.”

The journey to the barge was quite brief. The wharves where the Malwa empire’s highest nobility maintained their pleasure barges were less than half a mile from the Grand Palace. Once they climbed out of the palan­quin, Belisarius found himself almost goggling at the Great Lady Holi’s barge.

As Nanda Lal had said, it was truly splendid. In its basic size and shape the barge was no different from that of all the Malwa luxury barges. About ninety feet long and thirty feet wide, the barges had a rounded and big-bellied shape. The oddest thing, to the Roman’s eyes, were the double sterns, looking not unlike the sterns of two ships joined. Each stern sported a huge figurehead in the form of an animal’s head. Lions, in the case of Great Lady Holi’s barge.

The splendor was in the trimmings. Everywhere, the red and gold colors of the dynasty: The huge lion’s-head figurines were covered with beaten gold. All the oarlocks were trimmed with gold. Rubies inlaid into gold plaques formed the edging of the guard rails. And on and on and on. It was amazing the boat didn’t sink from the sheer weight of its decoration.

Belisarius followed Nanda Lal up the ramp which connected the barge to the wharf. The ramp debouched in a covered walkway which encircled the main cabins. Once aboard the vessel, Nanda Lal entered through a door directly opposite the ramp. A moment later, Belisarius found himself in the plush interior of the barge.

Aide’s thought came like a thunderclap.

Danger.

Belisarius almost stumbled.

Why?

Link is here. I can sense it.

The facets shivered with agitation. But the general simply smiled.

At last. My enemy.

Chapter 12

At the corner of the alley, Kungas made a little motion with his hand. The Kushan soldiers following him immediately halted. Kungas edged to the corner and peeked out onto the main street.

He was not worried about being spotted. At night, the streets of Kausambi were lit by lanterns, but the Malwa were stingy in their placement. As great as was the dynasty’s wealth, it was not unlimited, and the massive armament campaign forced a stretching of funds elsewhere. The elite themselves did not worry about stumbling in the dark. They were borne everywhere on slave-toted palanquins, after all. And if the slaves should stumble, and discomfit their masters, what did it matter? After the slaves were impaled, new ones would replace them. Unlike street lanterns, slaves were cheap.

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