“Maybe you should go back up,” he muttered.
“Not a chance,” she replied, taking him by the arm and leading him away. “For one thing, I would be late for Shakuntala’s audience. She’s an empress, you know. And for another—” She broke off, studying Ousanas out of the corner of her eyes. “I’m thinking.”
“I have wakened a monster.” Ousanas rolled his eyes. “I can sense a demon rising.”
“Nonsense. I’m just a woman, thinking.”
“Same thing,” he whined.
* * *
The empress shook her head. “I will not presume to override my commanders, but I think you are misreading the man completely. Rao most of all.”
Shakuntala’s officers stared at her in confusion. Her husband most of all. They were seated on cushions in a semicircle, facing the empress. She too sat on cushions, and those no higher than their own. Yet, despite her short stature, Shakuntala seemed to loom over them. As always, her posture was so erect that the small young woman seemed much larger than she really was.
Rao stroked his beard. “I will not deny the possibility. Still, Empress, I know something about Rajputs. And that army is entirely Rajput now, in all that matters. The name ‘Malwa’ applied to Lord Damodara has become a bare fiction. A tattered cloak, covering very different armor. Even the Ye-tai in his army are adopting Rajput ways and customs. The top Ye-tai commander, Toramana, is said to be marrying into the Chauhar clan itself. A half-sister of Rana Sanga’s, no less.”
“Others are doing the same,” added Shakuntala’s cavalry commander Shahji, “and not only Ye-tai. Nothing happens in Bharakuccha now that we do not learn almost within the day. We have gotten innumerable reports from Maratha merchants and vendors. Day after day, they tell us, Rajput soldiers are conducting marital negotiations with their Ye-tai and other comrades—even Malwa kshatriya—who seek to weld themselves to Rajputana.”
Somehow, Shakuntala seemed to sit even more erect. “Yes, I know. And you think that means Damodara and Sanga will now wage war against us in the Rajput manner? Sally forth, finally, to meet us on a great open field of battle?”
“They will try,” murmured Rao. “Whether we accommodate them is another manner.” Perhaps sensing the sudden stiffness in the posture of the Maratha officers who sat to either side, he smiled slightly.
“Oh, do be still. It is no dishonor to say that our army is not yet a match in the open field against Damodara and his men. And will not be, for some time to come. Do not forget that army fought Belisarius—and won.”
The officer Kondev stirred. “Belisarius was outnumbered at the Pass, by all accounts. Our forces are as great as Damodara’s. Greater, if we bring in all the outlying units.”
“And so what?” shrugged Rao. “Damodara’s army has fought great battles, against Roman and Persian alike. They are experienced, sure, confident. Our forces have fought no such thing as that. A thousand skirmishes and ambushes, yes. A hundred small battles in narrow terrain, yes. Defended and taken a dozen hillforts, yes. It is not the same. In the open field, Damodara would break us like a stick.”
An uncomfortable silence fell. From the sour look on their faces, it was plain to see the officers wanted to deny Rao’s words. But . . .
Couldn’t. And the fact that Majarashtra’s greatest champion had been so willing to say them, calmly and openly, made denial quite impossible. Who were they to tell the Wind of the Great Country that he was mistaken in a matter of war?
Shakuntala, as it happened.
“You are wrong, Rao.” She made a small, abbreviated gesture with her left hand. “Not about the correct tactics if Damodara comes out for battle. On that, I can say nothing.” Her tone of voice, for just a moment, became demure. As demure, at least, as the empress was capable of. “I would not dream of disagreeing with my husband on such matters.”
Rao grinned. But his wife the empress ignored him aloofly. “Where you are wrong is in the politics of the thing. Damodara, I am quite sure, knows that he could break us in battle. But not without suffering great losses himself. And that, I think, lies at the heart of things. He is waiting, and will continue to wait.”