In the Heart of Darkness

Rana Sanga rode alongside Belisarius. After a moment's silence, the Rajput remarked casually:

'Your Hindi is improving rapidly, general. With amazing rapidity, actually. And your accent is becoming almost unnoticeable.'

Belisarius repressed a grimace, and silently cursed himself for a fool. In point of fact, Belisarius could speak Hindi fluently, when he chose, without the slightest trace of an accent. An almost magical capacity for language was one of the many talents which Aide provided him, and one which Belisarius had used to advantage on several occasions.

And one which, he reminded himself again, was useful in direct proportion to being held a close secret.

He sighed, very slightly. He was learning that, of all the difficult tasks which men face in the world, there is perhaps none quite so difficult as pretending to be semicompetent in a language which one speaks perfectly.

Belisarius cleared his throat.

'I am pleased to hear that. I hadn't noticed, myself.'

'I thought not,' replied Sanga. The Rajput glanced over his shoulder. 'Given that your Hindi is becoming so fluent, I suggest that we might speak in Greek from now on. My own Greek, as you know, is only passable. I would much appreciate the opportunity to improve it.'

'Certainly,' said Belisarius-speaking, now in Greek. 'I would be delighted.'

The Roman general pointed back toward Ranapur with his thumb.

'I am curious about one thing, Rana Sanga. I notice that the rebels seem to lack any of your cannons, yet they obviously possess a large supply of gunpowder. It seems odd they would have the one and not the other.'

The Rajput did not reply, for a moment. It was obvious to Belisarius that Rana Sanga was gauging the limits of what he could tell the Roman.

But the moment was very brief. Sanga was not given to hesitation. It was one of the many little things about the man, Belisarius thought, which indicated his capabilities as a military commander.

'Not so odd, General Belisarius. The cannons are under the exclusive control of the Malwa kshatriya, and are never stationed in provincial cities. Neither are supplies of gunpowder, for that matter. But cannons are very difficult to manufacture, and require special establishments for the purpose. By law, such manufactories may not be created outside our capital city of Kausambi. Gunpowder, on the other hand, is much simpler to make. Or so, at least, I am given to understand. I myself, of course, do not know the secret of its manufacture. None do, except the Mahaveda priests. But it does not require the same elaborate equipment. So long as one possesses the necessary ingredients-'

The Rajput broke off, shrugged slightly.

'— which I, needless to say, do not-'

Fibber, thought Belisarius. I doubt he knows the exact process, but I'm sure a soldier as observant as Sanga knows the three ingredients and their approximate proportions.

'— and the necessary knowledge, gunpowder can be made. Even in a city under siege.'

'I am surprised that Mahaveda priests would join a rebellion against Emperor Skandagupta,' remarked Belisarius. 'I had the impression that Malwa brahmins were utterly devoted to your empire.'

Sanga snorted.

'Oh, I have no doubt their co-operation is involuntary. Most of the priests were undoubtedly killed when the province revolted, but I'm quite sure the lord of Ranapur kept a few alive. It is true, the Mahaveda are sworn to commit suicide before divulging the secret of the Veda weapons. But-'

The Rajput tightened his lips.

'But the priests are perhaps not completely free of the weaknesses which afflict we lesser mortals. Especially when they are themselves the objects of coercion, rather than-'

He fell silent entirely. Belisarius completed the thought in his own mind.

Rather than the overseers of the work of their mahamimamsa torturers.

Their conversation was the closest Belisarius had ever managed to get to the subject of the Malwa secret weapons. He decided to see how far he could probe.

'I notice that you refer to these-incredible-new weapons as the Veda weapons. My own men tend to believe they are the products of sorcery.'

As he had hoped, his last words stung the Rajput.

'They are not sorcery! Magical, perhaps. But it is the reborn power of our Vedic ancestors, not the witchcraft of some modern heathen.'

That was the official public position of the Malwa Empire: Ancient weapons from the time of the Vedas, rediscovered by diligent priests belonging to the new Mahaveda cult. Belisarius was fascinated to see how completely it was accepted by even Rajput royalty.

But perhaps, he thought, that was not so surprising after all. No people of India, Belisarius knew, took greater pride in their Vedic ancestry than Rajputs. The pride was all the greater-a better word might be ferocious- for the fact that many non-Rajput Indians questioned the Rajput claim to that ancestry. The Rajputs-so went the counter-claim-were actually recent migrants into India. Central Asian nomads, not so many generations ago, who had conquered part of northwestern India and promptly began giving themselves airs. Great airs! The term 'Rajput' itself meant 'sons of kings,' which each and every Rajput claimed himself to be.

So it was said, by many non-Rajput Indians. But, Belisarius had noted, it was said quietly. And never in the presence of Rajputs themselves.

Belisarius pressed on.

'You think so? I have never had the opportunity to study the Vedas myself-'

(A bald lie, that. Belisarius had spent hours poring over the Sanskrit manuscripts, assisted in deciphering the old language by his slave Dadaji Holkar.)

'— but I did not have the impression that the Vedic heroes fought with any weapons beyond those with which modern men have long been familiar.'

'The heroes themselves, perhaps not. Or not often, at least. But gods and demi-gods participated directly in those ancient battles, Belisarius. And they were under no such limitation.'

Belisarius glanced quickly at Sanga. The Rajput was scowling, now.

A bit more, I think.

'You must be pleased to see such divine powers returning to the world,' the general remarked idly.

Rana Sanga did not respond. Belisarius glanced at him again. The scowl had disappeared, replaced by a frown.

A moment later, the frown also disappeared, replaced by a little sigh.

'It goes without saying, Belisarius,' said Sanga softly. The Roman did not fail to notice that this was the first time the Rajput had ever called him by his simple name, without the formal addition of the title of 'general.'

'It goes without saying. Yet-in some ways, I might prefer it if the Vedic glories remained a thing of the past.' Another brief silence. Then: 'Glory,' he mused. 'You are a soldier yourself, Belisarius, and thus have a better appreciation than most of everything the word `glory' involves. The ancient battle of Kurukshetra, for instance, can be described as `glorious.' Oh yes, glorious indeed.'

They were now within a hundred yards of the Roman encampment. Belisarius could see the Kushan soldiers already drawing up in formation before the pavilions where the Romans and their Ethiopian allies made their headquarters. The Kushans were vassal soldiers whom the Malwa had assigned to serve as the permanent escort for the foreign envoys.

As always, the Kushans went about their task swiftly and expertly. Their commander's name was Kungas, and, for all that the thirty or so Kushans were members of his own clan and thus directly related to him by blood, maintained an iron discipline over his detachment. The Kushans, by any standard, were elite soldiers. Even Valentinian and Anastasius had admitted-grudgingly, to be sure-that they were perhaps as good as Thracian cataphracts.

As they drew up before the tent which Belisarius shared with Dadaji Holkar, the Maratha slave emerged and trotted over to hold the reins of the general's horse. Belisarius dismounted, as did his cataphracts.

From the ground, Belisarius stared up at Rana Sanga.

'You did not, I believe, complete your thought,' he said quietly.