This time he did laugh aloud, albeit softly. Even Grant and Sherman would have called me a lunatic. Even Sheridan!
Apparently realizing the futility of reassurance, Aide got into the mood of the moment. Brightly, cheerily: Custer would have approved.
Belisarius’ soft laugh threatened to turn into a guffaw, but he managed to suppress it. The face of young Calopodius was now definitely showing an expression. A quizzical one, in the main, leavened by—
I’d better explain, lest he conclude his commander has lost his mind.
Quickly, pushing his doubts and fears aside, Belisarius sketched for Calopodius the basic outlines of his plan—and the role assigned for the young Greek nobleman. Before he was halfway into it, as Belisarius had hoped—and feared—Calopodius’ eyes were alight with enthusiasm and eagerness.
“It’ll work, General!” exclaimed the lad, almost before Belisarius completed his last sentence. “Except—”
Calopodius hesitated, obviously a bit abashed at the thought of contradicting his august commander. But the hesitation—as Belisarius had hoped, and feared—didn’t last for more than a second.
Almost pulling Belisarius by the arm, Calopodius led the way out of the tent onto the sandy soil beyond. There, still as eager and enthusiastic as ever, he began pointing out his proposed positions and elaborating on his subterfuges.
“—so that’s how I’d do it,” he concluded. “With logs disguised to look like cannons, and the few you’re leaving me to give some teeth to the illusion, I can make this island look like a real bastion. That’ll put us right in the face of the Malwa, intimidate the bastards. They’ll never imagine we’d do it unless we had big forces in reserve at Rohri. And I’ll keep the walking wounded on the mainland marching around to seem like a host.”
Belisarius sighed inwardly. Smart lad. Exactly how I’d do it.
He directed his thoughts toward Aide: Which is what I was really worried about. If Calopodius loses the gamble, it won’t be a disaster for me. True enough. But he and well over a thousand men will be doomed. No way they could retreat off this island in the middle of the Indus if the Malwa launch a major assault on them, and press it home.
Aide said nothing. Belisarius scowled. It’s a damned “forlorn hope,” is what it is. Something of which I do not generally approve.
Seeing his commander’s scowl, and misinterpreting it, Calopodius began expanding on his proposal. And if his tone was somewhat apologetic, the words themselves were full of confidence.
Belisarius let him finish without interruption. Partly to gauge Calopodius’ tactical acumen—which was surprisingly good for such a young officer, especially a noble cataphract asked to fight defensively, on foot—but mostly to allow his own nerves to settle. Throughout his career, Belisarius had tried to avoid inflicting heavy casualties on his own troops. But, there were times . . .
And this was one of them. “Forlorn hope” or not, if Calopodius could succeed in this tactical military gamble, the odds in favor of Belisarius’ own great gamble would be much improved.
Belisarius scanned the island, following the eager finger of Calopodius as the teenage officer pointed out his proposed field emplacements. As he did so, Belisarius continued his own ruminations on the larger strategy of which this was a part.
In order for his campaign to break out of the Sind to work, Belisarius needed to effectively disappear from his enemy’s sight. For at least two weeks, more likely three, as he took his army away from the Indus—and thus out of sight of the Malwa troops who would be marching and sailing down the river to reinforce the siege of Sukkur. He would lure them into a trap at Sukkur, while he marched around them to lock the door shut in their rear.
Belisarius would take his main army directly east and then, skirting the edges of the Cholistan desert, sweep to the northeast. He would be marching parallel to the Indus, but keeping a distance of some thirty miles between his forces and the river. Enough, with a screen of Arab scouts, to keep his movements mysterious to the Malwa.
Even if Abbu’s men encountered some Malwa detachments, the enemy would most likely assume they were simply a scouting or foraging party. Never imagining that, behind the screen of light cavalry, a powerful striking force of Roman heavy cavalry and artillery was approaching the Chenab fork—two hundred miles away from the pitched siege warfare raging around Sukkur.