In the Heart of Darkness

approximately, as 'acquirer of the post of minister by hereditary descent.' It indicated that Nanda Lal belonged to that most exclusive of Malwa elites, those who were blood kin of the Emperor and were thus entitled to call themselves part of the Malwa dynasty. No man in the Malwa Empire who was not anvaya-prapta sachivya could hope to rise to any of the very highest official posts, military or civilian.

Second, Nanda Lal was a Mantrin-a high counselor-and thus sat on the Empire's central advisory body to Emperor Skandagupta, the Mantri-parishad. True, Nanda Lal was one of the junior members of that council-what the Malwa called a Kumaramatya, a 'cadet-minister'-but his status was still among the most exalted in all of India.

Third, Nanda Lal occupied the specific post which the Malwa called the Akshapatal-adhikrita. The title roughly translated into the innocuous-sounding phrase, 'the Lord Keeper of State Documents.'

What he really was, was a spy. It might be better to say, the spy. Or, better still, the grand spymaster.

Nanda Lal's laugh died away. After a last, rueful shake of his head, he asked:

'So, general, tell me. What did you think? I am quite curious, really. I was only joking, you know-about the horse trader business.' Another little hearty chuckle. 'Only a general would have demanded a tour of inspection of our military facilities before he gave his allegiance to our cause. In addition, of course, to a fortune.' Hearty chuckle. 'Another fortune, I should say.' Hearty chuckle. 'That was quite nicely done, by the way, if you'll permit me saying so.' Hearty chuckle. 'That little casual wave. `Oh, something simple. Like the other chest you gave me.' '

Belisarius shrugged. 'It seemed the most straightforward thing to do. And I wanted to know-well, let's just say that I'm sick to death of stingy, tight-fisted emperors, who expect miracles for a handful of coins. As to your question-what did I think?-'

Before answering, Belisarius examined the room carefully. He was not looking for eavesdroppers. He had not the slightest doubt they were there. He was simply interested.

Nanda Lal's official quarters, by Malwa standards, were positively austere. And Belisarius had noted, earlier, that Nanda Lal had brewed and served the tea they were drinking with his own hands. No servants were allowed in his inner sanctum.

Capable hands, thought Belisarius, glancing at them. Like most members of the dynastic clan, Nanda Lal was heavyset. But the spymaster's squat form had none of the doughy-soft appearance of most anvaya-prapta sachivya. There was quite a bit of muscle there, Belisarius suspected. And he did not doubt that Nanda Lal's hands were good at other tasks than brewing tea. For all their immaculate, manicured perfection, they were the hands of a strangler, not a scribe.

'I was very impressed,' he replied. 'Especially by the scale of the cannon manufacturing, and the ammunition works. You are-we are-amassing a tremendous weight of firepower to throw into battle.'

He fell silent, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

'But-?' queried Nanda Lal.

'You haven't given enough thought to logistics,' said Belisarius forcefully. 'There's an old soldier's saying, Nanda Lal: Amateurs study tactics; professionals study logistics. The Veda weapons, whatever their origin-and you will please notice that I do not ask-are not truly magical. Even with them, it still took you two years to recapture Ranapur. You should have done it much sooner.'

Nanda Lal seemed genuinely interested, now.

'Really? Let me ask you, general-how long would it have taken you to reduce Ranapur?'

'Eight months,' came the instant reply, 'without cannon. With them-four months.'

The Malwa official's eyes widened.

'So quickly? What did we do wrong?'

'Two things. First, as I said, your logistics are lousy. You substitute mass labor for skill and expertise. You need to develop a professional quartermaster corps, instead of-' He did not sneer, quite. 'Instead of piling up tens of thousands of men on top of each other. If you were to study the Ranapur campaign, I'm sure you'd find that most of that absurd pile of provisions simply went to feed the men who amassed it.'

Belisarius leaned forward in his chair. 'And that leads me to my second criticism. Your armies are much too slow, and-well, I won't say timid, exactly. Your soldiers seem courageous enough, especially the Ye-tai and Rajputs. But they are used timidly.'

Nanda Lal's eyes held equal amounts of interest and suspicion.

'And you would use them better?' he asked. 'If we made you our high commander?'

Belisarius did not miss the veiled antagonism. Suspicion came as naturally to Nanda Lal as swimming to a fish.

The Roman general dismissed the notion with a curt flip of his hand.

'Why ask, Nanda Lal? We have already agreed that I can best serve by returning to Rome. I will encourage Justinian's ambition to reconquer the western Mediterranean, and make sure that his armies are tied up there for years. That will clear the way for you to invade Persia without hindrance.'

'And after Persia?'

Belisarius shrugged. 'That is a problem for the future. When war finally erupts between Malwa and Rome, I will have to openly change allegiance. When that time comes, you will decide what position in your army to give me. I am not concerned with the question, at the moment. It is still several years away.'

The suspicion faded from Nanda Lal's eyes. Abruptly, the Malwa official rose.

'I will give careful consideration to the points which you raise, general. But, for the moment, I think we can leave off this discussion.'

Belisarius rose himself, stretching his limbs. Then said, with a rueful smile, 'I don't suppose we're done for the day, by any chance?'

Nanda Lal's headshake was as rueful as Belisarius' smile.

'I'm afraid not. It's still early in the afternoon, general. There are at least four officials who have insisted on meeting you today. And then, this evening, we have an important social visit to make.'

Belisarius cocked his eyebrow. Nanda Lal's shrug was an exquisite display of exasperation, resignation, carefully suppressed irritation. The accompanying smile exuded a sense of comradeship-in-travail.

'The Great Lady Holi-you have heard of her, perhaps?'

Belisarius shook his head.

'Ah! Well, she is the Emperor's favorite aunt. Quite a formidable woman, despite her age. For days, now, she has been demanding to meet you. She is fascinated, it seems, by all the tales concerning this mysterious foreign general.'

Nanda Lal took Belisarius by the elbow and began ushering him toward the door. His smile broadened.

'Her main interest, I suspect, stems from your reputed appearance. She is immensely fond of the company of young, handsome men.'

Seeing Belisarius' slight start, Nanda Lal laughed.

'Have no fear, general! The woman is almost seventy years old. And she is quite the ascetic, actually. I assure you, she just likes to look.'

Nanda Lal opened the door. With his own hands, as always. No servants were allowed in those quarters. He followed Belisarius into the corridor beyond.

After locking the door-it was the only door in the palace, so far as Belisarius had seen, which had a lock- Nanda Lal led the way down the wide hall.

'Anyway, she has been pestering the Emperor for days. Finally, he tired of it. So, this morning, just before your arrival, he instructed me to take you to Great Lady Holi this evening, after we were finished.'

Belisarius sighed. Nanda Lal grimaced.

'I understand, general. But, please, be of good cheer. We will not be there long, I assure you. A few minutes to pay our respects, a casual chat, no more.'

Belisarius squared his shoulders with resignation.

'As you wish, Nanda Lal. She is in the palace?'

Nanda Lal made another rueful headshake.