The eyes of the Ye-tai followed their progress, as did Ajatasutra’s.
“Pretty little bitches, aren’t they?” he mused. His voice, as usual, carried an undertone of whimsy and humor.
The Ye-tai in the center, the leader of the little group, grunted. “That they are. The older one’s a bit off-putting, what with that scar on her face, but the young—”
His next grunt was not soft at all. More like an explosive breath—a man kicked by a mule. But the eruption ended almost as soon as it began. As the Ye-tai’s head came down, Ajatasutra’s dagger plunged into his eye. Halfway to the hilt, before a quick and practiced twist removed the blade before it could become jammed in the skull.
As the Ye-tai slumped to the ground, Ajatasutra stepped aside.
“Wrong answer,” he said mildly. His eyes were on the three survivors.
For perhaps two seconds, the Ye-tai seemed frozen in place. The youngest and least experienced of them began moving his hand toward his sword, but one of his companions slapped the hand away.
“Uglier than sin, the both of them,” the man rasped. “Rather fuck a crocodile, myself.”
Ajatasutra’s lips might have quirked a bit. It was difficult to tell, in the darkness. The same darkness, perhaps, explained the ghostly ease with which he now crowded the three mercenaries.
“I can find you anywhere in India,” he murmured. “Anywhere in the world. Don’t doubt it for a moment.”
“A crocodile,” husked the young Ye-tai.
Now, even in the darkness, Ajatasutra’s smile was plain to see. “Splendid,” he said agreeably. His hand—his left hand—dipped into his cloak and emerged holding a small pouch.
“A bonus,” he explained. Then, nodding to the corpse: “For seeing to the quiet disposal of the body.”
Feeling the weight of the pouch, the newly-promoted mercenary leader grinned. “Crocodile food. River’s full of them.”
“See to it.” Ajatasutra gave a last glance at the elephant. The younger sister was already in the howdah and the older was handing up the baby. A moment later, the two mahouts were assisting her aboard the great creature.
The Ye-tai began to watch the procedure. Then, struck by a very recent memory, tore their eyes away and moved them back to their master.
But he was gone. Vanished into the night, like a demon from the ancient fables.
* * *
That very moment, in the far-distant Malwa capital of Kausambi, a demon from the fabled future came to its decision.
“NO CHOICE,” it pronounced. “The Kushans grow more unreliable by the day. AND THE YE-TAI ARE NOT ENOUGH TO BOLSTER THE REGIME. WE MUST WELD THE RAJPUTS TO OUR SIDE.”
The Emperor of Malwa made a last, feeble attempt to safeguard the exclusivity of his dynasty. “They are bound to us by solemn oaths as it is. You know how maniacally the Rajputs hold their honor. Surely—”
“THAT IS NOT ENOUGH. NOT WITH BELISARIUS COMING. THE PRESSURE WILL BECOME INTENSE. NOT EVEN RAJPUT HONOR CAN BE RELIED UPON TO WITHSTAND THOSE HAMMER BLOWS. THEY MUST ALSO BE WELDED BY TIES OF BLOOD. DYNASTIC TIES.”
Skandagupta’s corpulent little body began to swell like a toad. His mouth opened, ready to utter a final protest. But the sharp glance of Nanda Lal held him silent. That, and the frozen immobility of the four Khmer assassins standing against the nearby wall of the royal chamber. The assassins were all members of Link’s special cult, as were the six enormous tulwar-bearing slaves kneeling against the opposite wall. The emperor had seen those knives and tulwars flash before, more than once. They would not hesitate for an instant to spill the life of Malwa’s own ruler.
Ruler, in name only. The true power behind Malwa’s throne resided in the body of the young woman who sat in the chair next to him. Lady Sati, she was called, one of Skandagupta’s first cousins. But the name was as much of a shell as the body itself. Within that comely female form lurked the being called Link, the emissary and satrap of the new gods who were reshaping humanity into their own mold.
“IT WILL BE DONE,” decreed the thing from the future. The slender hands draped loosely over the carved armrests made a slight gesture, as if to indicate the body within which Link dwelled. “THIS SHEATH IS PERFECTLY FUNCTIONAL. MUCH HEALTHIER THAN AVERAGE. IT WILL SERVE RANA SANGA AS WIFE AND MOTHER OF HIS CHILDREN. THE DYNASTY WILL THEN BE RAJPUT AS WELL AS MALWA. THE SWORDS AND LANCES OF RAJPUTANA WILL BE WELDED TO US WITH IRON BARS. TIES OF BLOOD.”