Fortune's stroke

But, suddenly and surprisingly, Aide spoke urgent words. There's a telescope in there! I can just barely make it out.

Belisarius focused his own eyesight, but even with Aide's help he could not see the telescope which was apparently hidden within the pavilion. He was not surprised, however. Aide could often detect things through Belisarius' eyes which the general himself could not.

Big, clumsy damned thing, came Aide's mental sniff.

Still-nothing. Belisarius knew that Aide was using his own crystalline version of what the 'jewel' called computer image enhancement.

Is this important? asked Aide.

In and of itself-not especially. If that telescope's as big and awkward as you say, it's not going to be much of a help on the battlefield. But the fact that Damodara has one is interesting, nonetheless. It's a reminder to us not to underestimate the Malwa.

Belisarius folded up his telescope. As so often before, in doing so, he was struck by the clever design of John of Rhodes' device. But, for all that, his motion was sharp and decisive.

'That's it, then,' he announced, turning away. 'Pass the word, Maurice. We'll leave a unit here on guard, but get the army ready for another march.' He gestured with his head toward the enemy below. 'They'll be moving out themselves, sometime tonight. Make sure Abbu and his scouts are close enough to see which route they take.'

'Won't be very close,' replied Maurice grimly. 'Not with Rajput flankers.'

Belisarius began striding toward his own tent, some fifty yards down the trail. Over his shoulder, he said, 'I'm well aware of that. Just close enough, Maurice, that's all. Just close enough. If that army ever breaks contact with us, we'll be in a sea of trouble.'

A few steps away, hearing the exchange, Valentinian scowled.

'I was afraid this was going to happen. God, I'm sick of marching.' He cast a half-hoping, half-skeptical eye at the Malwa army on the plateau below. 'You think if I tried taunting them again-?'

Next to him, Anastasius snorted sarcastically. 'And just what do you think that'll accomplish? Besides making you look like an idiot? Again.'

Two miles away, at the entrance to his pavilion, Lord Damodara straightened up from his own telescope. Then, feeling the usual ache, the Malwa general grimaced. 'Wish I had one of his telescopes,' he grumbled.

Standing next to him, Rana Sanga cast a glance at the optical device in question. The Malwa telescope, quite unlike the slender, handheld artifact which he had seen in Belisarius' hands, was an ungainly thing. As in many areas-steelmaking was one outstanding exception-Indian craftsmanship was not the equal of Greek. The Malwa approach to optics was much like their approach to shipbuilding: Since we can't make it elegant, we'll make it big and sturdy.

Big and sturdy the Malwa telescope certainly was. So big, unfortunately, that it had to be supported on a rigid framework which could only be adjusted with great difficulty. The end result was that anyone who used the thing was forced to stoop in an awkward posture which, after a period of time, invariably resulted in back pain.

For a moment, Sanga was tempted to point out that Damodara, as short as he was, suffered less from the problem than did Sanga himself. But he restrained the impulse. Lord Damodara maintained an easy and informal bearing around his top subordinates, but he was anvaya-prapta sachivya. There were limits.

Instead, he opted for the bright side. 'It's a better telescope than he has,' he pointed out. 'At least as far as its strength goes.'

Judging from his snort, Damodara was not mollified.

'And so what?' he demanded. He gestured through the open flap of the pavilion. 'So I can discern his features, where he can't mine. On the rare occasions when he happens to wander into my field of view, that is. While he, for his part, can look anywhere he wants. Without breaking his spine in the process.'

Damodara rubbed his back, still grimacing. 'I'd trade with him in a minute! And so would you, Rana Sanga-so stop trying to cheer me up.'

Sanga said nothing. After a few seconds, Damodara stopped scowling. The young Malwa lord's innate good humor returned.

'There's this much,' Damodara said cheerfully. 'I'm quite sure he doesn't know we have a telescope. We didn't have them when he was in India, and I'm positive he hasn't spotted mine.' He glanced around his headquarters. The telescope was positioned ten feet inside the entrance, well within the gloom of his pavilion's interior. Damodara had kept it there at all times, despite the limited field of view which the position provided, precisely in order to keep Belisarius from spotting the device.

For an instant, the scowl returned. 'I'm not sure that makes any difference, of course. But-' He shrugged. 'With Belisarius, I'll take any advantage I can get.'

Damodara turned away from the telescope and moved toward the large table located at the very center of the pavilion. Sanga, without being asked, immediately followed.

At the edge of the table, Damodara planted his pudgy hands and leaned over, intently examining the huge vellum map which covered most of it. His gaze, now, was one of satisfaction rather than disgruntlement. Whatever they lacked in optical craftsmanship, no one could fault the skill of Malwa mapmakers. He was especially pleased with the topographical information which his chief cartographer managed to include.

Damodara peered into a corner of the dimly lit pavilion. As always, his cartographer was waiting patiently, seated on a small cushion. Narses was also in the corner, available in case Damodara needed his advice. The eunuch, following Roman custom, sat in a chair.

'It is up to date, Lord Damodara,' said the mapmaker. 'Just this morning, I incorporated the latest information brought in by the Pathans.'

Damodara nodded, and turned back to the map. For a time, he was silent, examining the terrain shown thereon. At his side, Rana Sanga did the same. Then, Lord Damodara reached out and placed his finger on a location some fifteen miles to the south.

'There, perhaps?' he asked. 'Judging from the map, it seems like an obscure pass. Very narrow, but it might be enough.'

Sanga studied the pass in question for a moment, before shaking his head. The gesture was more one of slow consideration, however, than firm judgement. 'I don't think so, Lord.' He hesitated, tugging at his rich beard. 'I am not sure of this, you understand, but it seems to me that Belisarius has been especially keen to thwart us from making any headway to the south. I suspect that he already has scouts watching the approaches to that pass.'

Damodara looked up, his eyes widening. He seemed slightly startled.

'To the south-especially? I hadn't-' He frowned, thinking; then, chuckled ruefully. 'It seemed more to me that he was thwarting us anywhere we went.'

Sanga's shoulders lifted in a small shrug. 'That is true, Lord. But I still think that he has been quickest of all to prevent us from going south.'

Damodara spread his hands on the table, staring at the map. It was obvious to Sanga, watching the movement of his eyes, that Damodara was retracing every step of the past month's maneuvers.

'I think you're right,' he murmured, after a minute or two. Damodara straightened up, staring now at the bare leather of the pavilion wall across from him.

'Why is that, do you think?' he mused thoughtfully. His gaze turned to Sanga. 'It doesn't make any sense. What difference does it make, whether we bypass him to the north or the south? So long as he can keep us from making westward progress, he keeps us out of Mesopotamia. Tied up here, in these miserable mountains.'

Damodara's eyes returned to the map. 'If anything,' he added slowly, 'I would think he'd prefer to maneuver us south. That way he can keep us following the Zagros range-all the way to the Gulf.' He pointed to the southern reaches of the mountains shown on the map. 'In the end, we might find ourselves emerging into Mesopotamia down at the delta. Near Charax.'

He laughed sarcastically. 'Where he already has our main army bottled up! With Emperor Khusrau and his lancers to keep the cork in the bottle.'