The tide of victory

mama!'

Menander met the gunner's jeering face. Then, softly: 'And who do you think has been doing all of Ashot's digging for him? You can be damned sure that Ashot's men haven't been worn out by it. Fresh for the fighting, they've been. Day after day, while Malwa prisoners work under conditions not much worse than they faced in their own ranks. Which makes them always ready enough to surrender.'

The amusement faded from the gunner's face, as he grappled with a new concept. Seeing his confusion, Menander was hard-pressed not to laugh himself.

Mind you, I think Ashot will be ecstatic when we arrive. I'll bet his supply problems have been even worse than he expected, with all those extra mouths to feed.

* * *

A few minutes later, the battle began. A few minutes after that, it was over. The two big guns in the bow of the Justinian simply shredded the Malwa river boat. The two shots the Malwa managed to fire from their own little bowchaser missed the Justinian by a wide margin.

Again, Malwa soldiers and sailors spilled into the water. But, this time, they were too far from shore for many of them to have a chance of reaching it.

Menander hesitated, for an instant. Then, remembering a friendly wave and his revered commander's subtleties, he made his decision.

'Steer right through them!' he barked. 'And slow down. Any Malwa who can grab a line we'll tow ashore with us.'

He turned and moved toward the rear of the ship, issuing orders to his soldiers as he went. By the time the desperate Malwa in the river had managed to seize one of the tow lines tossed by the Romans, Menander had soldiers ready to repel any possible boarding attempt. And he had both Puckle guns manned, loaded and ready to fire.

Long before they reached the docks that Ashot's men had erected in anticipation of their arrival, however, Menander was no longer worried about boarders. It was clear as day that the Malwa being towed to safety had no more intention of turning on their rescuers than ducklings would attack their mama. On those faces which were close enough for Menander to read any expression, he could see nothing beyond relief.

For those men, obviously, the war was over. And glad enough they were, to see the end of it come. Most of them were peasants, after all. Hard labor on too little food was no stranger to them. Nothing to enjoy, of course. But also-nothing to fear.

* * *

Ashot himself met Menander at the dock, shouting his praise and glee, and clapping the young officer on the shoulder.

'Knew you'd make it! Good thing, too-we're running low on everything.'

Ashot's merry eyes moved to the Malwa surrendering as they came ashore. 'And another fine catch, I see. I tell you, Menander, there have been times over the past weeks when I've felt more like a fisherman than a soldier.'

Chapter 34

The Hindu Kush

Autumn, 533 A.D.

'How many Pathans, do you figure?' asked Kungas.

As Vasudeva pondered the question, Kungas kept studying the Malwa positions through the telescope which Belisarius had given him when he left Charax. His position, standing atop the ruins of a centuries-old Buddhist stupa destroyed by the Ye-tai when they conquered the Kushans, gave him a good view of the fortress which blocked the Khyber Pass at its narrowest point.

'Hard to say,' muttered his army commander. 'They're scouts and skirmishers, only, so they move around too much to get a good count.'

'Not more than a few hundred?'

'If that many. With Sanga and the Rajputs a thousand miles away, the Pathan 'allegiance' to the Malwa is threadbare at best. At a guess, the only Pathans the Malwa have under their command down there are maybe two hundred tribal outcasts. The tribes themselves seem to be pulling back to their fortified villages and assuming a neutral stance.'

'Let's hope Irene can keep them there,' murmured Kungas. He lowered the telescope. 'Which will depend, more than anything, on whether we can take that fortress and drive the Malwa out of the Khyber Pass entirely.'

He began clambering down from the ruins. 'With that few Pathans on the other side, we can seize the high ground. Use grenades to clear the outlying fortifications and then set up mortars and the field guns to start bombarding the big fortress across the narrows. Stupid bastards! They haven't fought in mountain country for too many years.'

Now that they were on level ground, Vasudeva was able to concentrate on Kungas' plan. The way he was tugging the tip of his goatee and the furrows in his face indicated some doubts.

'Mortars, yes. Easy enough to haul up those rocks. But field artillery too? We could get them up there, sure enough. Not easily, mind you, but it can be done. But what's the point? All we have in the way of field guns are three-pounders. They're too light to break down the walls and-firing round shot, which is all we have-they won't produce many casualties.'

Kungas shook his head. 'I got a better look at that fortress than you did, Vasudeva, using the telescope. The outer walls are thick enough, to be sure, but everything-including all the interior walls and pits-is typical sangar construction. Nothing more than piled up fieldstone. They weren't expecting to be defending the Khyber Pass-of all places! — so that fortress was built in a hurry. Probably didn't even finish it until a few weeks ago, judging from what I could see of the outlying forts. Half of those forts are unfinished still.'

Vasudeva was still frowning. Although he actually had more experience than Kungas using gunpowder weaponry, his mind was slower to adjust to the new reality than was that of his king.

Kungas helped him along. 'Think what will happen when a solid ball of iron hits that loose fieldstone.'

Vasudeva's face cleared, and he left off tugging the goatee. 'Of course! As good as shrapnel!'

The army commander looked down at the soil between his feet and gave it a little stamp. 'Solid rock, for all it matters. No way to dig rifle pits here.' His eyes lifted, and he studied the distant fortress. 'There neither. All their men will be above ground, using elevated sangar instead of holes in the ground. May as well have surrounded themselves with shells.'

All hesitation gone, Vasudeva became as energetic and decisive as ever. 'It will be done, King! We will take the high ground-clear the Malwa from every outlying hillfort with grenade and sword-bring up the mortars and artillery. and then! Place half the army further down the pass to stymie any Malwa relief column. It'll be a siege, with us holding them in a grip of iron.'

Kungas smiled, in a manner of speaking. 'I give them two weeks. Maybe three. And they can't even try to retreat back to the Vale of Peshawar, once we've blocked their route. We outnumber them three to one. We'd cut them to pieces on open ground, and they know it. They'll have no choice but to surrender.'

He planted his hands on his hips and surveyed the mountains surrounding the Khyber Pass with approval. 'After which-using them to do the scut work-we can fortify this pass the way it should be done. And we'll have plenty of time to do it, with the Malwa preoccupied with Belisarius in the plains. Before Malwa can counterattack, the Hindu Kush will be secure. The Pathans will bow to our rule-and why not, since it will be lighter than Malwa's-and next year. '

But he was speaking to himself, now. Vasudeva, being no more prone than his king to worry about formality, was already hurrying away to send the Kushan army back into motion.

Kungas remained in the ruins of the stupa for the rest of that day, and all the days which followed. He thought it was fitting that the founder of the new Kushan kingdom should make his headquarters in a holy place desecrated by those who had destroyed the old one. By the morning of the third day, Kushan shock troops had