How many, Aide, do you think?
Aide gave that shivering image which was his equivalent of a shrug. Impossible to say. There are no records of such things, at this point in history. In later times, the Punjab would hold a population numbering in the millions, with a density of five hundred people to a square mile. It won’t be that high today, of course, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was half that. So you may well wind up with tens of thousands of people for a work force. Many of them will be oldsters and children, of course.
Belisarius paused to exchange a few last words with Abbu. The Arab scouts were offloading first. As always, Abbu and his men would provide Belisarius with reconnaissance. That done, he returned to his mental conversation with Aide.
So many? Better than I had hoped. With twenty thousand, I am confident I can erect the fortifications I need before the Malwa can organize a serious siege.
I cannot be positive. But—yes, I think so. With no more civilians than that, Gustavus Adolphus was able to erect the fortifications at Nürnberg in two weeks time. On the other hand . . . those civilians were enthusiastic partisans of the Protestant cause. These Punjabi peasants you will be rounding up could hardly be described as “partisans” of Rome.
Belisarius chuckled. True, true. But that quip of Dr. Johnson’s will apply here as well, if I’m not mistaken. I think the Malwa savagery in the Sind will come back to haunt them. If you were a Punjabi peasant conscripted to build fortifications for Roman troops fending off a Malwa siege, would you be a reluctant laborer?
“The prospect of being hanged . . .” mused Aide. No, I think not, especially if you maintain discipline among your own soldiers and do not allow the civilians to be abused. Beyond being forced into hard labor, at least. They will know full well that if the Malwa overrun you, they will be butchered along with the Roman troops. The Malwa will consider them “rebels,” and they showed at Ranapur the penalty for rebellion.
* * *
Three days later, Maurice came across with the last of the Roman forces. By then, Belisarius had an approximate count.
“Better than twenty thousand civilians, for sure,” were the first words he spoke when Maurice entered the command tent Belisarius had erected near the village of Sitpur. “Probably at least twenty-five. Maybe even thirty thousand.”
Maurice grunted satisfaction. He removed his helmet and hung it on a peg attached to a nearby pole supporting the small pavilion. The helmets of Gregory and Felix and Mark of Edessa were already hanging there.
That grunt of satisfaction was the last sign of approval issued by the chiliarch. Before he had even reached the table where a new map had been spread, showing the first sketched outlines of the terrain, he was already accentuating the negative.
“You’re too far north, still. If you think you can hold this much land with so few troops, you’re out of your mind. What is it to the Indus from here? It must be a good ten miles!”
Gregory and Felix and Mark of Edessa burst into outright laughter. Belisarius satisfied himself with a crooked smile.
“Oh, do be quiet. I have no intention of building my principal lines up here, Maurice. I intended to erect them—have started to already, in fact—ten miles southwest of here.” He pointed to a place on the map where lines indicating heavy fortifications had been drawn. “That far down into the tip of the triangle, the distance from the Chenab to the Indus is no more than six miles. And I’m building the outer line of fortifications here, a few miles north of that.”
“We’re just setting up field camps here,” added Gregory. “Nothing fancy. Enough for large cataphract units to sally out and keep the first Malwa contingents held off for another few days. We have got to keep Sitpur in our hands as long as possible.”
“Why?” demanded Maurice.
Belisarius’ three other top commanders grinned. “Would you believe—talk about luck!—that Sitpur is the bakery center for the whole area?”