Fortune's stroke

but at least'-he pointed to the rubble filling the northern third of the farmhouse-'when it collapsed it brought down the adjoining walls. One or two Rajputs could squeeze in there, but there's no way they could do a concerted rush.'

Hands on hips, he made a last survey of their fort.

'Not bad, actually. Once we brace the door-'

He smiled thinly, watching Anastasius match deed to word. The giant simply picked up a beam and jammed it against the door. Then, as casually as it were but a twig, he did the same with another.

Maurice finished: '-we'll be able to hold them off for quite a bit.'

Valentinian's expression was still sour. Sour, sour, sour. 'That's great,' he snarled. 'You have noticed there's no way out of here? You have noticed there's no food in the place?'

Gloomily, he watched Belisarius pry the cover off what appeared to be a well in the southeast corner.

'At least we've got water,' he grumbled. 'Maybe. If that well isn't dry.'

Belisarius spoke, then, with astonishing good cheer. 'Better than that, Valentinian. Better than that. I do believe this leads to a qanat.' He pointed down into the well. 'See for yourself.'

Valentinian and Maurice hurried over.

'Make it quick,' commanded Vasudeva. The Kushan was peering through a small chink in the western wall. 'The Rajputs are into the grove.'

'Same on this side,' added Anastasius, peering through a similar chink in the opposite wall. 'They've got us surrounded.' A moment later: 'They're dismounting, now, going to charge us on foot.' His tone grew aggrieved. 'I thought Rajputs never got off their horses, even rode them into the damned latrines.'

'Not Sanga's Rajputs,' commented Belisarius idly, still staring down into the well. 'He's just as stiff-necked as any Rajput when it comes to his honor, but that doesn't extend to any silliness when it comes to military tactics.'

Suddenly, Vasudeva hissed. 'They've got grenades!' he exclaimed.

Belisarius' head jerked up from his examination of the well.

'You're certain?' he demanded. But he didn't wait for a reply before reconsidering his plans. Vasudeva was not the man to make such a mistake.

'I thought the Malwa never let anyone but their kshatriyas handle gunpowder weapons,' complained Valentinian.

'So did I,' mused Belisarius, scratching his chin. 'Looks like Damodara decided to relax the rules.'

He resumed studying the well. 'Not surprising, I suppose. He's rumored to be far and away their best field commander, and his army's based on Rajputs. Sanga's Rajputs, to boot.'

As he continued his scrutiny of the well, his voice grew thoughtful. 'That explains this ambush, I think. I forgot how good Sanga is. Got too accustomed to those arrogant Malwa in Mesopotamia. He knows me. He probably figured I'd do my own reconnaissance, and set traps all along the foothills.'

Belisarius looked up, finished with his examination. When he spoke, the iron tone in his voice indicated that he had reached a decision.

'No point in forting up, now,' he announced. 'They won't waste lives trying to force their way through the door. They'll just blow out the walls of the farmhouse.'

'They're already moving in,' agreed Vasudeva. 'Three men, on this side, carrying grenades. I can't even fire on them. Chink's big enough to peek through, but not for an arrow.'

'I've got two on my side,' said Anastasius. 'Same thing.'

Belisarius pointed down the well. 'We'll make our escape through here. Strip off your armor. It's a long, narrow climb, and I've no idea how much room we'll have below.'

'What about the horses?' demanded Valentinian.

Belisarius shook his head. 'No way to get them down. We'll use them for a diversion. But first-' He strode over to the horses. 'Pull out our own grenades. I want to set them against all the walls. We'll do the Rajputs' work for them. Bring the whole place down. It might cover our escape.'

He began digging grenades out of his saddlebags. An instant later, Maurice and Valentinian were doing the same.

'I've got fuse-cord,' announced Maurice. 'We can tie together all the grenades. Set them off at once.'

Belisarius nodded. He carried a handful of grenades over to the west wall and began placing them, while Valentinian did the same on the east. Maurice followed, quickly tying the fuses to a length of fuse-cord.

Suddenly, Vasudeva shouted. 'Get down! Now!'

All five Romans flopped onto the dirt floor of the farmhouse. An instant later, a series of explosions rocked the building. On the west wall, not far from Vasudeva, a small hole was blown out. Everywhere else the walls stood, although they were noticeably shakier.

'God bless good stonework,' muttered Anastasius. 'Always admired masons. A saintly lot, the bunch.'

The horses reared up, whinnying with fear, fighting the reins which tied them to a fallen beam. Maurice, the best horse handler among them, rushed to quiet them down.

'Are they preparing a charge?' demanded Belisarius.

Vasudeva, back at his chink, shook his head. 'No. They're too canny. They're putting together another batch of grenades. They won't charge until the place is a pile of rubble. Let the falling stones do their work for them.' He grunted approvingly. 'Good soldiers. Smart.'

Belisarius nodded. 'That gives us a couple of minutes.' He pointed to the door. 'Anastasius-pull those braces away. Then get ready to knock down the door. Maurice, as soon as the door goes, drive the horses through. That'll stop the Rajputs for a moment. They'll think we're trying a rush, and besides'-he smiled cheerfully-'Rajputs love good horses. They won't be able to resist taking the time to catch these.'

He turned. Seeing that Valentinian had quietly gone about finishing the task of tying together all the grenades, he nodded with satisfaction.

'That's it, then. Vasudeva, you go first. Then Valentinian. Maurice and Anastasius, as soon as you drive the horses out, you follow. I'll go last.'

Belisarius seized the heavy well cover and lifted it back onto the low stone wall which surrounded the well. Then, using a short beam, he propped it open. When the time came, he would be able to drop the cover back onto the well by knocking aside the beam.

He began stripping off his armor. Before he was half finished, Vasudeva was out of his own armor and already clambering into the well. The Kushan grabbed a wooden peg fixed into the stonework of the shaft-the first of many which served as a ladder-and began lowering himself.

'At least I've got rid of that miserable stupid ignorant barbarian helmet and that-' The rest of his words were lost as he vanished into the darkness.

Valentinian handed Belisarius the end of the fuse cord as he began his own descent into the well. He had nothing to say. Nothing coherent, at least. He was muttering fiercely.

Belisarius looked up. Maurice and Anastasius were in place. They, too, had already stripped off their armor.

'Do it,' he commanded. Then, remembering an undone task, shouted: 'Wait! I need a striker!'

Maurice scowled, and hastily dug into one of the saddlebags. A moment later, he came up with the device and pitched it to Belisarius. As soon as Anastasius saw that Belisarius had caught the striker, the huge Thracian heaved one of the beams aside. A moment later, the other followed. And then, a moment later, Anastasius kicked open the door. One powerful blow was enough to send the half-splintered thing flying into the farmyard beyond.

That done, Anastasius lumbered toward the well while Maurice, shouting and cursing, began driving the horses through the door.

The well was a tight fit for Anastasius, but he took the problem philosophically. 'There's much to be said for the Cynic school,' he commented, as he began the awkward task of lowering his great form down the narrow stone shaft. 'Unfairly maligned, they are.'

An instant later, Maurice practically leapt into the well. 'Make it quick, lad,' he hissed. 'None of your fancy perfect timing crap. The Rajputs are already coming.' He began dropping down the shaft. 'Just blow it. Now.'