In the Heart of Darkness

finds him-they will track us down. If your hunter is as good as you claim.'

Eon's only reply was a grunt of satisfaction.

In the event, Ousanas did not have to track them down. Shortly after daybreak, many miles down the new road heading south, they came upon Ousanas. The hunter, along with Kujulo and the three other Kushans, were waiting for them by the side of road. Fast asleep-even reasonably dry, under the semi-shelter of a long-abandoned hut-except for one Kushan standing guard.

Valentinian was exceedingly disgruntled. Especially after he spotted the basket of food, with very little food left in it.

'You had time to eat, too?' he demanded crossly, climbing down from his horse.

Ousanas sat up, stretched his arms, grinned.

'Great cavalrymen move very slow,' he announced. 'I be shocked. Shocked. All illusions vanished.'

Kujulo smiled. 'You should try traveling with this one. Really, you should. He was already waiting for us when we made our break from the army camp. How the hell he got there so fast from the river, I'll never know. Especially with two baskets of food.'

'Two baskets?' whined Valentinian.

'We saved one for you,' said another of the Kushans, chuckling. 'Ousanas insisted. He said if we didn't, Anastasius would never argue philosophy with him again.'

'Certainly wouldn't,' agreed the giant. 'Except for simple precepts from Democritus. All matter can be reduced to atoms. Including Ousanas.'

The cataphracts and the Ethiopians tore into the food. After their initial hunger was sated, Menander's youthful curiosity arose.

'What is this stuff?' he asked.

'Some of it is dried fish,' replied Kujulo. 'The rest is something else.'

Menander, thinking it over, decided that he would leave it at that. The stuff didn't actually taste that bad, after all, even if he suspected 'the rest' had once had far too many legs to suit a proper Thracian.

By the time the food was gone, the rain had finally stopped. Kujulo and another Kushan went into the woods and brought out their horses.

'Where'd you get the horses?' asked Valentinian.

Kujulo pointed to Ousanas.

'He had 'em. Don't ask me where he got them because I have no idea. I'm afraid to ask.'

Valentinian shared no such fear.

'Where'd you get 'em?' he demanded again. Then, watching the ease with which Ousanas swung up into his saddle, complained: 'I thought you didn't like horses.'

'I detest the creatures,' replied Ousanas cheerfully. 'Horses, on the other hand, are very fond of me.'

The hunter led off, to the south, called over his shoulder:

'This shows excellent judgement by both parties, don't you think?'

Somehow, in the hours that followed, as the band of soldiers cantered their way toward the far distant Deccan, Menander was not surprised to discover that Ousanas was as good a horseman as he'd ever seen.

At daybreak that same day, the captain of the Bengali detachment which guarded-so to speak; 'huddled about' would be more accurate-the Lion Gate of Kausambi, waved a casual farewell to the nobleman and his retinue. After the last of the nobleman's escort and their women camp-followers had paraded past, down the eastern road to Pataliputra, he ordered the gate shut.

'Fine man,' he said approvingly. 'Wish all those Malwa snots were like him.'

'How much?' asked his lieutenant.

The commander did not dissemble. His lieutenant was also his younger brother. Most of his detachment, in fact, was related to him. He extended his hand, palm open.

His brother's eyes widened.

'Send for our wives,' commanded the captain. 'Today, we will feast.'

That same moment, Belisarius stalked through the Panther Gate, one of the western gates of Kausambi. The gate was poorly named, in truth. Small and ramshackle as it was, the 'Alley Cat Gate' would have been a more suitable cognomen.

But, of course, that was why he had picked it.

On the way through, he terrorized another Malwa soldier. The man scuttled franctically away from the barbarian's threatening fist. He had no desire to end up like his sergeant, sprawled senseless on the ground.

Once he was through the gate, Belisarius turned, planted his fists on his hips, and bellowed:

'Next time, you dogs, when a Ye-tai tells you to open the gate, do so without argument!' He drew his sword. 'Or next time I'll use this!'

He thrust the sword back in the scabbard, turned, and marched away. Behind him, he heard the gate screeching loudly. The hinges hadn't been greased properly, and the Malwa troops were in a great hurry to close it. A tearing great hurry.

The road Belisarius was taking was one of the newly refurbished roads which the Malwa had been constructing. This was no muddy peasant path. The road was fifteen feet wide, raised above the plain, properly leveed and paved with stone. It was a road even Romans would have been proud to call their own.

The road ran parallel to the north bank of the Jamuna River, a few miles to the south. The road led west by northwest until it reached the city of Mathura, some three hundred miles away. Belisarius had no intention of traveling as far as Mathura, however. Just north of Gwalior, the Chambal River branched to the southwest. About a hundred miles up the Chambal, in turn, the Banas River branched directly west. There were roads paralleling those rivers which would take him all the way to the ancient city of Ajmer, at the very northern tip of the Aravalli Mountains.

'Ajmer,' he mused. 'From there, I can either go south or west. But-I wonder. .'

Again, he summoned Aide to his assistance. Aide had already provided him with all the geographic information he needed. Now-

Tell me about the royal couriers.

The rain had finally stopped. As he strode along, openly, right down the middle of the road, Belisarius continued the discussion with Aide until he reached his conclusions. Thereafter, he simply admired the dawn.

Might even get a rainbow, he thought cheerfully.

Chapter 16

Daras

Summer 530 AD

Theodora arrived at the estate toward the end of summer. Her appearance came as a surprise-not the timing, but the manner of it.

'She's worried,' muttered Antonina to Maurice, watching the Empress ride in to the courtyard. 'Badly worried. I can think of nothing else that would make Theodora travel like this.'

Maurice nodded. 'I think you're right. I didn't even know she could ride a horse.'

Antonina pressed her lips together. 'You call that riding a horse?'

'Don't snicker, girl,' whispered Maurice. 'You didn't look any better, the first time you climbed into a saddle. At least Theodora doesn't look like she's going to fall off from a hangover. Not the way she's clutching the pommel.'

Antonina maintained her dignity by ignoring that last remark altogether. She stepped forward to greet the Empress, extending her arms in a welcoming gesture.

Theodora managed to bring her horse to a halt, in a manner of speaking. The twenty cataphracts escorting her drew up a considerable distance behind. Respect for royalty, partly. Respect for a surly horse at the end of its patience, in the main.