Destiny's shield

'If you study it very closely, you can still find traces of the original four corners. The same is true on the northeast and northwest side.' Here he gestured with his head, flicking it back over his shoulders in either direction. 'I had my architects examine the hill at great length. They even dug a tunnel deep into it from the north. Thirty yards in, they began encountering the baked brick walls of what seems to have been a gigantic ziggurat.'

He leaned back, exuding satisfaction. 'It's the Tower of Babel of ancient legend. I'm quite sure of it. Crumbling slowly, century after century. Covered with wind-blown soil, century after century. Until it is as you see today. This is not uncommon, by the way. There are many hills like this in Mesopotamia, which are all that's left of ancient ruins.'

Belisarius eyed the Emperor with respect. 'That must have been a lot of work.'

Khusrau laughed.

'Not for me!'

The gaiety vanished. 'I was curious, true. But I also needed projects to keep my men occupied. Once it became clear that the Malwa could not break the walls without long effort, and that we would not face starvation, tedium became our worst enemy. You know from experience, I'm sure, how dangerous it can be to have a garrison fretting away their time in idleness.'

Belisarius nodded.

'Besides, I was making plans for the future. We are digging out great tunnels and rooms inside this hill. For food storage, and, I hope, ammunition. The food will not spoil quickly-the interior of the hill is much cooler than it is outside. And even if the Malwa eventually breach the outer fortifications, and can move their guns close enough to bombard Babylon's interior, a direct hit on the hill would pose no danger to gunpowder stored deep within its depths.'

The Persian Emperor fell silent here, fixing Belisarius with his intense, intelligent eyes.

The Roman general met that gaze squarely. The moment had come, and it could be postponed no further.

'I have already argued in favor of giving gunpowder weapons to the Aryans, Emperor Khusrau. I have gone further, in fact. I have argued that we should give Persians the secret of their manufacture. But-'

'The Empress does not agree,' finished Khusrau.

Belisarius fluttered his right hand, indicating that the matter was not quite so simple. 'Yes-and no. She agrees that it would aid the war against Malwa. Aid it immensely, in fact. But she fears the repercussions in the future.'

Khusrau nodded, calmly. The Emperor of Persia had no difficulty understanding the quandary which faced Rome's ruler. Someday, hopefully, Malwa would be gone. Rome and Persia, on the other hand-those two great Empires had clashed for centuries.

Aide's voice spoke. Belisarius could sense the agitation of the facets.

Stupid woman! She is so unreasonable about this!

The general had to physically restrain himself from making an actual calming gesture. Fortunately, from long experience, he had learned to keep his interchanges with Aide unnoticeable to the people around him. Still, it was distracting, and-

This is not the time for that, Aide!

The facets subsided, grudgingly. Belisarius brought his attention back to the Emperor. Khusrau was speaking.

'I understand her suspicions,' he mused. 'And, unfortunately, there is nothing I can say or do that would alleviate them. We can swear to a Hundred Years' Peace-we can swear to a Thousand Years' Peace, for that matter. But Rome and Persia will still be there, long after Theodora and I are gone. Who is to know if that peace would be kept? Or if Persian and Roman armies would not clash again, on the field of battle, armed this time with cannons and rockets?'

Aide could not control his frustration.

So what? The problem is now-with Malwa! If that problem is not solved, Rome and Persia won't be there a century from now to be worrying about this. And besides-

Be quiet! commanded Belisarius. It was one of the few times he had ever been abrupt with Aide. The facets immediately skittered in retreat.

Belisarius could sense the hurt feelings emanating from Aide. He was not concerned. They weren't hurt much. Aide reminded him, in that moment, of a child obeying an adult's command. Sulking, pouting; thinking dark thoughts about cosmic injustice.

But he needed to concentrate on the problem before him. And he already knew Aide's opinion. During the days at Constantinople when this very question had been thrashed out by Theodora and her advisers, Aide had practically overwhelmed him with visions drawn from the human future.

A thousand visions, it had seemed. The ones he remembered best had been the portraits of the British Raj's conquest of India. 'Conquest' was not, even, the right term. The establishment of British rule would be a long and complex process which, in the end, would not primarily be decided by military factors. True, the British would have guns. But so, soon enough, would the Indian rajahs who opposed them. Yet those Indian monarchs would never match the superior political, social and economic organization of the British.

For the same reason, Aide had argued, giving the secret of gunpowder to Persia posed no long term threat to Rome. It was not weapons technology, by itself, which ever determined the balance of power between empires and nations. It was the entirety of the societies themselves.

Rome was a cosmopolitan empire, rich in traders, merchants and manufacturers. And, for all the elaborate pomp of its official aristocracy, it was a society open to talent. To a degree, at least.

Persia was none of those things. The Empire of the Aryans was a thoroughly feudal society. It had nothing like the population of Rome, and was positively dwarfed in terms of industry and manufacture. The military equality which Persia had been able to maintain vis-a-vis its western rival was entirely due to the ferocious skill of its heavy cavalry.

Introduce gunpowder into that mix, and the result would be the exact opposite of Theodora's worst fears. Within half a century, Aide had predicted, Persia would be no match for Rome at all.

Belisarius had agreed with Aide, then, and had argued that very case. Along with the more pressing point that the defeat of Malwa overrode all other concerns.

But Theodora-

He shook his head. 'She is a suspicious woman, I'm afraid.'

Khusrau chuckled. 'Nonsense, Belisarius. All emperors are suspicious. Trust me on this point. I speak from experience. Even your own brothers-'

He bit off the sentence. 'We will discuss that problem later. For now, I must officially request that the Roman Empire provide us with a gunpowder capability.'

The Emperor gestured to the south. 'As you can see, we have been able to hold them off so far with traditional weapons. But I must do more, Belisarius.' He clenched his fist. 'I must break this siege.'

He sighed. 'We made one attempt at a sally, early on. It was a foolish gesture. I cursed myself for it, then, and damn myself for it to this day. Our soldiers were butchered. As soon as they came within range, the Malwa fired on us with those great siege guns. Loaded, this time, not with great stone balls but a multitude of pebbles and pieces of iron.'

'Cannister,' said Belisarius.

'They stood no chance at all. The slaughter was horrible, even in the short time before I ordered the retreat.'

He wiped his face, in a gesture combining sorrow with self-reproach. But Khusrau was not deflected from his purpose.

'I must break the siege-within a year, no more. And for that I need my own cannons. The Malwa siegeworks are not as strong as the walls of Babylon, of course, but they are still strong enough to repel a sally. Only cannons in the hands of my own troops could shatter them enough for a successful counter-attack.'

Belisarius frowned.

'Why are you so certain that you must break the siege-within a year?'