The tide of victory

'It is one of the most fertile oases in central Asia, wife. A fertility only made possible by our own irrigation works. Which we-not Persians nor Ye-tai nor Malwa-constructed long ago.'

Irene shrugged. 'True. And so what? The center of Kushan strength will lie, as it always did, in our control of the great mountains to the east. The Hindu Kush-that must be the heart of our new realm. That, and the Pamirs.'

The last sentence brought a stillness to the room. The Pamirs were even harsher mountains than the Hindu Kush. No one had ever really tried to rule them, in anything but name.

Irene smiled. The expression was serene, self-confident; erasing all traces of her former sarcasm and derision.

'You are thinking too small,' she said quietly. 'Much too small. Thinking only of the immediate task of reconquering our ancient homeland, and holding it from the Malwa. But what of our future? What of the centuries which will come thereafter?'

Vasudeva, who had become the military commander of Kungas' army, began tugging gently at the point of his goatee. Now that his initial outrage was fading, the canny general was remembering the fundamental reason that all of the Kushans had greeted Kungas' marriage with enthusiasm.

The damned Greek woman was smart.

'Explain.' Then, remembering protocol: 'If you would be so kind, Your Majesty.'

Irene grinned, and with that cheerful expression came a sudden relaxation spreading through the room. The hard-bitten Kushan soldiers, for all that Irene's ways often puzzled and bemused them, had also come to feel a genuine fondness for the woman as well as respect for her intelligence. Irene, grinning, was a thing they both liked and trusted. They too, when all was said and done, had a sense of humor.

'We are too small to hold Marv, Vasudeva. That is the simple truth. Today, yes-with the Persians forced into an alliance with us. If we drive the issue, Baresmanas will accede. But what of the time after Malwa has fallen, when the Persians will seek to lick their wounds by new triumphs, new additions to their realm?'

The Kushans stared at her. Then, slowly, one by one, they pulled up chairs and took their seats. It did not occur to any of them, at the time, to ask permission of their king and queen to do so. And, remembering the omission later, they would be pleased at the fact that neither of their monarchs-for this was a dual monarchy, in all but name-took the least umbrage at their casual informality.

It did not even occur to Irene to do so, actually. She was at heart a thinker, and had always enjoyed thoughtful conversation. Seated on a proper chair-not a damned saddle.

'Think, for once,' she continued, after all were seated. 'Think of the future, not the past. What we can control militarily-can hold against anyone, once we have built the needed fortifications-are the mountains. But those mountains cannot provide the wealth we need for a prosperous kingdom. That, in a nutshell, is the problem we face.'

She paused. Quickly, all the Kushans nodded their heads. Once she was sure they were following her logic, she went on.

'Only two avenues are open to us, to overcome that quandary. The first is to seize fertile areas in the lowlands, such as Marv. ' She waited, just a moment, before adding: 'And the Punjab, which I know many of you are assuming we will.'

Again, the Kushans began to stiffen. And, again, Irene's lips twisted into an expression of scorn.

'Spare me! I know Peshawar is in the Punjab-just at the edge of it, at least. And one of the holiest cities of the Buddhist faith.' She pressed herself back into the chair, using her hands on the armrests as a brace. The motion brought some relief to the ache in her lower spine. 'The Vale of Peshawar we can claim, easily enough. So long as we make no claims to the Punjab itself.'

She hesitated, thinking. 'I am fairly certain that we can claim Mardan and its plain as well, with the Buddhist holy sites at Takht-i-Bahi and Jamal Garhi. Unless I am badly mistaken, Belisarius will allow the Persians to take the Sind. Once Malwa has fallen, therefore, it will be the Rajputs and-I suspect, at least-the Persians who will be our principal competitors for the wealth of the Punjab. Let them have it-so long as we control Peshawar and Mardan.'

'And the Kohat pass!' chimed in Kungas. Very energetically, the way a proper husband corrects a minor lapse on the part of his wife.

Irene nodded. Very demurely, the way a proper wife accepts her husband's correction. 'And the pass.' Then, with a sniff: 'Let others squabble over the town of Kohat itself. A Pathan town! More grief than anything else.'

Vima, another of the top officers of the Kushan army, now spoke up. 'In essence, what you propose is that we take just enough of the Punjab to protect the Khyber pass. Base our claim to Peshawar and Mardan on religious grounds, but make clear that we will not contest the Punjab itself. While, at the same time, locking our grip on the Hindu Kush.'

'Yes.'

Vima shook his head. 'From a military point of view, Your Majesty, the logic is impeccable. But that small portion of the Punjab cannot possibly provide enough food for our kingdom. Not unless we are prepared to live like semi-barbarians, which I for one am not. A civilized nation needs agricultural area, and lots of it.' Semi-apologetically: 'Such as the oasis of Marv would provide us.'

Irene sniffed. 'Have no fear, Vima! I can assure you that I am even less inclined than you to live like a semi- barbarian.' She shuddered. 'God, can you imagine it! Me? Spending half my life in a saddle?'

The Kushans all laughed. But Irene was pleased to see that the laughter contained not a trace of derision. She had made her way to Marv in a saddle, after all. Resolutely spurning each and every suggestion that she ride in a palanquin, or even one of the carts which the camp followers used.

A warrior nation, the more so when it was striking a lightning blow at their hated enemy, needed a warrior queen who would not delay them with her frailties. Her illustrious Roman pedigree had pleased the Kushans, for it brought a certain glamor and aura of legitimacy to their cause. But they did not need the reality of the weak flesh it came in. So, using her intelligence and iron will to stifle that flesh, Irene had submitted to the pain. And for all that they might jest about it, the Kushan soldiers understood and respected her for it.

Once the humor of the moment had settled in, Irene shook her head. 'I said there were two alternatives, Vima. You have overlooked the other. A kingdom-a rich kingdom-can also base itself on trade. And, over time, the expansion which trade brings in its wake.'

Again, she pointed to the northeast, in a gesture which was even more imperious. Then, regally, swept it slowly to the west-until half the northland had been encompassed by her finger.

'The north. From the Tien Shan mountains to the Aral Sea. We will not dispute the Punjab with the Rajputs, nor the oases and badlands of Khorasan with the Persians. Let them toil in the fields. Let them maintain the dikes and canals. We will control all the passes which connect the land of the Aryans to India, and both of them to distant China. We-with our military power rooted in the Hindu Kush and the Pamirs-will reap the benefits from those ancient trade routes. Which, with Malwa gone and ourselves to maintain order, will spring back like giant trees.'

Kungas chimed in again. This time, not as a husband correcting his wife, but as a king allied with his queen. 'Yes. And under our rule, all of Transoxiana will flourish anew. Bukhara, Samakhand, Tashkent-our cities, they will be, reborn from the ashes. And great metropolises they will become, to rival Constantinople or Ctesiphon or Kausambi.'

All the Kushan generals, as was their custom, were now tugging the tips of their goatees. Vima and Huvishka were even fondling their topknots, the sure sign of a Kushan warrior lost deep in thought.

'Difficult,' murmured Vasudeva. 'Difficult.' His goatee-tugging became vigorous. 'Beyond Transoxiana lie the great steppes. Time after time, fierce tribes have come sweeping down from that vastness, burning and pillaging all in their wake. No one has ever managed to stymie them, for more than a century or two. We ourselves came from that place, and were in turn overrun by the Ye-tai after civilization made us soft. Why would it not happen again?'

Irene laughed. With delight, not sarcasm. As was true of any enthusiast trained in the dialectic of Socrates, nothing pleased her more than a well-posed question. Like a fat lamb it was, stretched bleating on the altar.

'Guns, Vasudeva! Guns! Those steppe nomads have never been numerous. You know as well as I that the