Rao frowned. “For what?” His eyes opened a bit. Then, for just one moment, the old Rao returned. The hill chieftain who had once trained an emperor’s daughter. Long before he married her, in a time when such a marriage was unthinkable.
“Nonsense, girl! Rajput, I tell you. Even if Damodara himself were willing to seize the Malwa throne—and with his family hostage in Kausambi, what is the chance of that?—his soldiers would not follow him. Were he to press the matter, Rana Sanga himself would cut him down. The Rajputs swore an oath of fealty to the emperor of Malwa. And a Rajput oath—you know this well as I do—is as hard to break as iron.”
Shakuntala shook her head. If the empress was displeased by her consort’s sudden reversion to old and uncouth ways of addressing her, she gave no sign of it. Indeed, from the hint of a smile on her lips, one might almost think she enjoyed it.
Still, the headshake was vigorous.
“That was not my meaning—although, Rao, I think you are forgetting the lessons in philosophy you once gave an impatient and headstrong girl.” Yes, she was smiling. “The business about truth becoming illusion, and illusion truth. The veil of Maya is not so easily penetrated as you might think.”
A little chuckle swept the room. The officers seemed to relax a bit. Badinage between the empress and her consort was a familiar thing. Familiar, and immensely relaxing.
Shakuntala continued:
“It is Damodara’s nature to wait. People miss that in him, because he is so capable in action when he moves—and moves so often, and so fast when he does. But, mostly, he is a waiting man. That is the core of his soul. He does not know the difference between truth and illusion, and—most important—knows that he doesn’t. So . . . he waits. Allows the thing to unfold itself, until truth begins to emerge.”
“What ‘truth’?” asked Rao, a bit crossly.
She shrugged. “The same ‘truth’ we are all pondering. The ‘truth’ which is unfolding in the Indus, not here. We have no knowledge of what has happened with Belisarius, since he left Barbaricum and led his expedition into the interior of the Sind.”
She glanced at Antonina, who, along with Ousanas and Ezana, was sitting on a stool not far to Shakuntala’s left. Antonina shook her head slightly. I don’t know anything more than you do.
Rao and the officers caught that little exchange, as Shakuntala had so obviously intended them to do. She pressed on.
“What will happen in the Indus? When Belisarius and Malwa clash head on? Who will win, who will lose—and how great will be the winning or the losing?”
She paused, defying anyone to answer. When it was obvious no answer was coming, she made that little hand wave again.
“So Damodara will wait. Wait and wait. Until the truth begins to emerge. And, in the meantime, will do nothing beyond rebuild Bharakuccha’s harbor and fortifications. He will send nothing beyond patrols, up the Narmada—large enough to defeat any ambush, but not so large as to risk any great losses to himself.”
Kondev stroked his beard. “It is true that all the punitive expeditions have ceased, since Damodara took command after the Vile One’s death. But it was known that he had already opposed them, even while the beast was alive. So I am not sure that tells us much of anything regarding his future plans.”
Antonina decided it was time for her to speak up. She cleared her throat, to gain everyone’s attention. Then, as soon as Shakuntala nodded her permission, began to speak.
“I agree with the empress. Not so much with regard to Damodara’s intentions”—she shrugged, waving her hand more broadly than Shakuntala had done—”although I suspect she is right there also. But who can read that man’s soul? The key thing, however, is what she proposes. And in that, I am in full agreement with her.”
Rao seemed a bit frustrated. “That means we would do nothing.”
Antonina shook her head. “That is not what the empress said. She did not propose doing nothing, Rao. She proposes, instead, that we prepare.”
She turned her head, looking toward the wide window which looked out over the city. Half-ruined Chowpatty was invisible, for the window was too high. But Antonina could see the ocean beyond, calm now that the monsoon season had ended.