No sooner had the first engineers alit on the bank than others began handing them reed mats. Moving quickly, the engineers began laying the mats over the soft soil, creating a narrow pathway away from the still-soggy ground immediately by the riverbed.
“They’re moving faster than I expected,” grunted Maurice. “With as little training and preparation as we’d been able to give them . . .”
Belisarius chuckled. Maurice was still a bit disgruntled over the change of plans which had been made the past summer, after the sabotage attempt at Charax.
He’s just grumbling, grumbled Aide. That man is never satisfied. How much training does it take to lay down some simple reed mats, anyway?
It’s not all that simple, replied Belisarius. Moving in the dark, in unfamiliar territory, with the fear of enemy attack in the back of their minds—and them with neither weapons nor armor? Not to mention that probably half of them are still seasick.
He glanced at the sky. Still no sign of dawn, but the moon gave out just enough light to see that the sky was cloudless.
Pray this clear weather holds up, he continued. The three days we spent at sea waiting for it took a toll on most of the men. They’re not sailors, you know.
Aide accepted the implied reproof without protest. For all that the crystal being had come to understand the nature of what he called his “protoplasmic brethren,” Aide knew he was still prone to overlook the crude facts of protoplasmic existence. On the other hand . . . he couldn’t have laid down those simple mats at all.
There was a new clattering noise. The Arab scouts were bringing their mounts out of the hold and beginning to walk them off the gangplank onto the reed-matted soil of the river. The horses had suffered from rough weather at sea at least as much as the men. But they were so eager to get their feet on terra firma that they made no effort to fight their handlers. The biggest problem the Arab scouts faced, in fact, was keeping the beasts from stampeding madly off the deck of the ship.
Abbu rolled over to Belisarius. The old Arab scout leader was practically swaggering.
“One day, General, no more.” Abbu’s pronouncement came with the certainty of a prophet. “One day from now, all opposition will be cleared to the walls of Barbaricum.”
The old man’s cheerful assurance transformed instantly into doom and gloom. He and Maurice exchanged a mutually satisfactory glower. Two natural-born pessimists agreeing on the sorry state of the universe.
“Thereafter, of course, disaster will follow.” Abbu’s thick beard jounced with satisfaction. “Disaster and ruin. The cannons will not arrive in time. The seaward assault will fail miserably, most of your newfangled gunships adrift or sunk outright. Your army will starve outside the walls of the city.”
“Barbaricum doesn’t have any walls,” commented Belisarius mildly. “The cannons we’re offloading are mostly to stop any relief ships bringing reinforcements from upriver. If there are any, that is. Khusrau should be starting his own attack out of the Kacchi desert any day now. Who knows? He may have begun already.”
Abbu was not mollified. “Persians! Attacking through a desert? By now, half of them are bones bleaching in the sun. Mark my words, General of Rome. We are destined for an early grave.”
Belisarius had to fight to keep from grinning. Abbu’s high spirits were infectious. From years of working with the old bandit-in-all-but-name, Belisarius knew full well that Abbu’s confidence stood in direct—and inverse—proportion to his grousing. A gloomy and morose Abbu was a man filled with high morale. A cheerful Abbu, dismissing all danger lightly, was a man with his back to the wall and expecting imminent demise.
“Be off, Abbu,” Belisarius chuckled. “Clear any and all Malwa from my path.”
“That!” The Arab scout began to turn away, heading for his horse. “That! The only thing which will go as planned!”
Within a minute or so, Abbu was over the side and organizing the Arab outriders. Within ten minutes, hundreds of lightly armed Arabs—from many ships—were disappearing into the darkness. Moving as swiftly as any light cavalry on earth, they would fall on any Malwa troops outside Barbaricum’s shelter and either kill them or drive them into the port.