Destiny's shield

Malwa power rested on four pillars:

First and foremost, their monopoly of gunpowder and their Ye-tai barbarians.

Holkar intended to steal the first, or get it from the Romans. The other-death to the Ye- tai.

Then, there were the two other pillars-the soldiers who formed the Malwa army's true elite: the Rajputs and the Kushans.

No Rajputs had come. Holkar would have been astonished if they had. The Rajputs had sworn allegiance to the Malwa empire, and they were a people who held their honor sacred.

Still, he had hopes. Perhaps someday-what man can know?

But the Kushans-ah, that was a different matter. A steadfast folk, the Kushans. But they had none of Rajputana's exaggerated concept of honor and loyalty. The Kushans had been a great people themselves, in their day, conquerors and rulers of Central Asia and Northern India. But that day was long gone. Persia had conquered half their empire, and the other half had been overrun by the Ye-tai. For centuries, now, the Kushans had been mere vassals under the thumb of others, valued for their military skills, but otherwise treated with disdain. Their loyalty to Malwa, Dadaji had often thought, was much like Kungas' face. To the outer world, iron; but still a mask, when all was said and done.

Kungas' voice interrupted his little reverie.

'Odd,' he repeated. He turned away from the window. 'We started with only thirty. The men in my immediate command. I expected I would draw some of my own kinfolk, since I am high-ranked in the clan. But the others-'

Holkar shook his head. 'I do not think it strange at all, my friend.'

He reached out his hand and tapped his finger on Kungas' chest. It was like tapping a cuirass. 'The Buddha's teachings still lurk there, somewhere inside your skeptical soul.'

Kungas' lips quirked, just a bit. 'I doubt that, Dadaji. What good did the Buddha do us, when the Ye-tai ravaged Peshawar? Where was he, when Malwa fit us with the yoke?'

'Still there,' repeated the peshwa. 'You disbelieve? Think more about those Kushans who have come, from other clans. What brought them here, Kungas?'

The Kushan looked away. Holkar drove on. 'I will tell you, skeptic. Memory brought them here. The memory of Peshawar-and Begram, and Dalverzin and Khalchayan, and all the other great cities of the Kushan realm. The memory of Emperor Vima, and his gigantic irrigation works, which turned the desert green. The memory of Kanishka the Great, who spread Buddhism through half of Asia.'

Kungas shook his head. 'Ah! Gone, all gone. It is the nature of things. They come, they go.'

Dadaji took Kungas by the arm, and began leading him out of the blood-soaked, fly-infested room. 'Yes, they do. And then they come back. Or, at least, their children, inspired by ancient memory.'

Irritably, Kungas twitched off Holkar's hand. They were in the narrow corridor now, heading for the rickety stairs leading to the street below.

'Enough of this foolishness,' he commanded. 'I am a man who lives in the present, and as much of the future as I can hope to see-which is not much. Tell me more of Rao's plan for Deogiri. If he takes the city, he cannot hold it alone for more than a year. Not even Deogiri is that great a fortress-not against the siege cannons which Venandakatra will bring to bear. He will need reinforcement. And then, we will need-somehow! — to maintain a supply route. How? And we will need to get cannons of our own. How? From the Romans?'

He stopped, from one step to the next, and gave Holkar a sharp glance. 'Ha! They have their own problems to deal with. Belisarius will be marching into Persia, soon. You know that as well as I do. That will help, of course-help greatly. The Malwa will not be able to release forces from their Persian campaign-not with Belisarius at their front- but Venandakatra still has a powerful army of his own, in the Deccan.'

He strode on, almost stamping down the stairs. Over his shoulder:

'So-tell me, philosopher! How will we get the cannons?'

Dadaji did not reply until both men were out on the street. He took a deep breath, cleansing the stench of death out of his nostrils. Then said, still smiling:

'Some of them, we will steal from the Malwa. As for the rest-Belisarius will provide.'

Kungas' brow lowered, slightly. On another man, that would have been a fierce scowl. 'He is thousands of miles away, Dadaji!'

Holkar's smile was positively serene, now. For an instant, Kungas was reminded of a statue of the Buddha. 'He will provide, skeptic. Trust me in this. Belisarius set this rebellion of ours in motion in the first place. He has not forgotten us. Be sure of it.'

Kungas made his little version of a shrug, and strode off behind the diminishing figure of his Empress. Holkar remained behind, staring after him.

'Trust me in this, my friend,' he whispered. 'Of five things in this world I am certain. Malwa will fall. My Empress will restore Andhra. Peshawar will rise again. Belisarius will not fail us. And I-'

His eyes teared. He could not speak the words.

I will find my wife and children. Wherever the Malwa beasts have scattered them, I will find them.

Chapter 6

'I will not take Maurice with me to Egypt, Belisarius. Absolutely not. So stop pestering me about it. And stop pestering me about Valentinian and Anastasius. I refuse to take them either.'

Belisarius stared at his wife for a moment, before blowing out his cheeks. He leaned back in his chair and glared at Antonina. 'You do not understand the danger, woman! You need the best military adviser in the world. And the best bodyguards.'

Seeing the set and stubborn expression on his wife's face, and the way she clasped her hands firmly on the table between them, Belisarius cast a furious glare about the salon. His hot eyes scanned the mosaics which decorated the walls of their small palace within the imperial complex, without really seeing them. The gaze did, however, linger for a moment on a small statue perched on a corner stand.

'Damn cherub,' he growled. 'What's that naked little wretch smirking about?'

Antonina tried to fight down a smile. Her struggle was unsuccessful, however, and the sight of her quirking lips only added to her husband's outrage.

Belisarius grit his teeth and twisted in his chair, swiveling his head to the right. 'Sit down, Maurice!' he commanded. 'Damn you and your stiff ways! I promoted you, remember? You're a general yourself, now. A chiliarch, no less!' Belisarius made a curt motion with his hand, as if to sweep Maurice forward. 'So sit down!'

The commander of Belisarius' personal retinue of bucellarii shrugged, stepped forward, and pulled up a chair. As soon as he took his seat at the table, Belisarius leaned toward him and said:

'Explain it to her, Maurice. She won't listen to me, because she thinks I'm just being a fretful husband. But she'll listen to you.'

Maurice shook his head. 'No.'

Belisarius' eyes widened. 'No?' His eyes bulged. 'No?' His next words were not, entirely, coherent.

Maurice grinned at Antonina.

'Never actually seen him gobble before. Have you?'

Antonina matched his grin. 'Oh, any number of times.' The grin began a demure smirk. 'Intimate circumstances, you understand?'

Maurice nodded sagely. 'Of course. Dancing naked on his chest, that sort of thing.'

'Not to mention the whip and the iced-'

'Enough!' roared Belisarius. He slammed his fist on the table.

Antonina and Maurice peered at him with identical, quizzical expressions. Much like two owls might study a bellowing mouse.