Destiny's shield

against all odds, a rocket should score a direct hit-

'Might break in the roof tiles,' commented Bouzes.

Belisarius shrugged. 'The tiles are supported by heavy beams. Wooden beams, yes. But these beams aren't anything like the thin planks of pirate galleys. They're much thicker, and, what's more important, not saturated with inflammable pitch.'

He began studying the positions of the Malwa cavalry, now. Again, passing on his conclusions.

'They'll start with a rocket barrage, and then follow it up with a direct assault.' A moment's silence, then:

'I thought so. They're dismounting, now. It'll be an infantry attack.'

'Those are cavalry!' protested Coutzes.

Belisarius pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. He remembered, from three years before, that Coutzes and Bouzes had been trained in the cavalry tradition. The young Thracian commander, it was obvious, had still not quite abandoned his contempt for foot-fighting.

His brother, however, had.

'Don't be stupid. We've been training our own men to be dragoons. Why shouldn't the Malwa?'

'Well said,' murmured Belisarius. For a moment, he took his eye from the telescope and glanced at Coutzes.

'You're about to see why I insisted on training our cavalry to fight on foot. I know you think that was a waste of time-'

He drove over Coutzes' little protest. '-but the reason I did so was because I knew the time would come when we'd be able to arm those dragoons with grenades. And handcannons, I'm hoping.'

He nodded toward the enemy, visible through the window.

'They already have grenades. The kshatriya are starting to pass them out to the regulars.'

He took up the telescope again, and continued his scrutiny.

'They'll come in waves. Probably be one grenadier for every ten soldiers. The Ye-tai will be scattered through the lines in small squads, driving the regulars forward and pressing the assault. Some of the kshatriya will be in those lines, too, but most of them will stay at the center with the priests, manning the rockets. They'll also help the Kushans guard the wagons. They might-damn!'

He stiffened, staring through the telescope intently.

'Damn,' he repeated. 'They're bringing up the Kushans. All two thousand of them.'

'On foot?' asked Agathius.

Belisarius lowered the telescope, nodded. Then, with a bit of a rueful smile:

'Kushans, in my experience, don't have any fetishes when it comes to fighting. On foot, on horse, on boats-it doesn't matter to them. Whatever, they'll do it well. Very well.'

He turned away from the window. It was obvious from his stance and expression that he had reached a decision. His officers gathered closer.

'This changes things,' Belisarius announced. 'As you know, I'd wanted to wait until tomorrow before bringing in Maurice and his boys.'

He tapped the palm of his hand with the telescope, emphasizing his words.

'We're going to beat these bastards, one way or the other. But I want more than that-I want to pulverize them. The best way to do that is to rout them early in the morning, so we've got a full day for pursuit.'

The officers nodded. All of them-even the two young brothers-were experienced combatants. They knew that a battle won at the end of day was a battle half-won. The kind of relentless, driving pursuit which could utterly destroy a retreating enemy was simply impossible once daylight was gone.

Agathius glanced out the window. 'It's still before noon,' he mused. 'If the battle starts soon enough-'

Belisarius shook his head. 'I'd wanted to let the Malwa spend all day hammering their heads against us here. Bleed them dry, exhaust them-then hit them at dawn with a massive flank attack by Maurice and Kurush. The attack would break their army, and then we'd sally out of the villa and drive over them.'

He saw that his officers still didn't understand. He didn't blame them. Their brief experience with Malwa soldiers had not prepared them for the Kushans.

'The Kushans are a different breed. They won't come at us in a mass, chivvied by Ye-tai, depending on their grenades to do the work. They'll come at us like the best kind of Roman infantry would attack this place.'

Of the officers standing around him, Bouzes was the most familiar with Belisarius' infantry tactics. The general saw dawning comprehension in his face.

'Shit,' muttered the young Thracian. He glanced around the room. 'The villa's not a fortress, when you come down to it. The fortifications we jury-rigged were designed to fend off grenades, not-'

Belisarius finished the thought.

'Not two thousand of the finest foot soldiers anywhere in the world, charging in squads, aiming to push into every door and portal so they can use their swords and spears.'

Cyril scowled. 'Let 'em! I don't care how good they are. We're not lambs ourselves, general. Our cataphracts can fight on foot-just watch! With us to back up the Syrians, we'll chop those-'

Belisarius waved his hand.

'That's not the point, Cyril. I don't doubt that we'll beat back the Kushans. But I can guarantee that we won't be doing it without suffering lots of casualties and without being exhausted ourselves, when the day's over. I don't think we'll be in any shape to be pursuing anybody, tomorrow.'

He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. 'I wonder. .'

Belisarius stepped back to the window and looked through the telescope again. For a minute, he studied the Kushans taking up their position. Then, pressing himself against the wall to the left of the window, he aimed the telescope at a sharp angle, studying something to the southwest.

'We've got no troops stationed at the corrals.' He cast a quick, inquisitive glance at Bouzes. The young Thracian shook his head.

'No, sir.' His tone grew a bit defensive: 'I thought about it, but it's at least half a mile away. There didn't seem any point to-'

Belisarius smiled crookedly.

'No, there wasn't. I'm not criticizing your decision, Bouzes. I just wanted to make sure.'

Again, Bouzes shook his head. 'We've got nobody there, general.'

'Good,' stated Belisarius. He stared through the telescope for another minute, before turning away from the window.

'We're going to turn everything inside out. Instead of waiting until tomorrow, I'll have Maurice start the counter-attack at the beginning of the battle.'

He hesitated. 'Well, not quite. I don't think the Kushans will lead the first assault. Unless that Malwa commander's dumber than a chicken, he won't want to use his best troops until he's softened this place up a bit. He'll let regulars and Ye-tai hammer us with grenades. See what happens. If that doesn't work, then he'll send in the Kushans. They'll head up the second attack. And that's when I'll order Maurice to make his charge.'

The look of incomprehension was back on the faces of the general's subordinates. Belisarius' own face broke into a cheerful grin. 'The trick to dealing with Kushans, I've learned, is to exploit their talents.'

'Begging your pardon, sir,' spoke up Cyril, 'but I don't understand what you're getting at. If Maurice attacks when the Kushans are still fresh-'

'What will the Kushans do?' demanded Belisarius. 'Think, Cyril. And remember- they'll be excellent troops, with good commanders, on foot, suddenly finding themselves caught between a fortified villa and a heavy cavalry charge on their right flank.'

Cyril was still frowning. Belisarius drove on.

'The rest of the Malwa army will be shattering, under that charge. Not to mention-'

He turned to Agathius. 'Are your boys up for another bit of lance work? A sally, straight out of the villa?'

Agathius grinned. 'After that promenade this morning? Hell, yes. It'll be a bitch, mind you, getting the horses