The Dance of Time b-6

by Eric Flint

  Belisarius returned the smile, scratching his chin. "No qualms, yourself?"

  Justinian shrugged. "We've been together a long time, she and I. It's not likely she'll have me poisoned. And I'm right and she's wrong-and no one knows it better than you. In another universe, I kept you at war for years out of my overreaching ambition, and had nothing to show for it in the end except exhaustion and ruin. Let's not do it again, shall we?"

  He's right.

  Yes, of course he is. Rome doesn't need more territory. It'd just bring grief with it. Even the enclave I'll insist on here in the Triangle is for purely political reasons. But you-o craven crystal-will remain huddling in your pouch while I have to bear the brunt of Theodora's wrath.

  Seems fair to me. You're the general. I'm just the hired help. Grossly underpaid, to boot.

  "Antonina's on the line, General," said Calopodius. "And they're telling me Khusrau has arrived at the telegraph station in Sukkur."

  "Let's do it, then."

  * * *

  The communication with Antonina went quickly.

  PHOTIUS AGREES TO DAMODARA TERMS STOP WANTS TO KNOW IF EXILE POSSIBLE IN TRIANGLE TO ESCAPE THEODORA STOP HE WORRIES TOO MUCH STOP LOVE YOU STOP

  "Ask her about-"

  "It's already coming in," Calopodius interrupted him.

  OUSANAS AGREES TO DAMODARA TERMS ALSO STOP WILL TAKE FLEET AND ARMY IMMEDIATELY TO BHARAKUCCHA STOP WHAT YOU WANT ME AND PHOTIUS DO STOP

  "Have her and the boy go with them," Maurice suggested. "They'll be much safer in Bharakuccha than up here, with everything breaking loose. And what would they do here, anyway?"

  It didn't take Belisarius long to decide that Maurice was right. If Antonina still had her Theodoran Cohort with her, she might be able to play a useful military role in the Triangle. But she'd left them behind in Alexandria. If just she and Photius and Tahmina came to the Triangle-with a huge flock of servants, to make things worse-they'd be nothing a distraction and a nuisance to Maurice.

  And Belisarius himself wouldn't be there at all, if his plans worked.

  "Yes, I agree. Leaving aside the safety problem, she'll probably be useful in Bharakuccha anyway. That populace will need to be settled down, and she's a lot better at that than Ousanas would be. Calopodius, tell her and Photius to accompany Ousanas to Bharakuccha."

  * * *

  Two last messages came back:

  WHEN WILL SEE YOU AGAIN STOP

  Then, after a brief pause:

  NEVER MIND STOP STUPID QUESTION STOP BE WELL STOP LOVE YOU STOP

  * * *

  The warmth that last message gave him dissipated soon enough. The negotiations with Khusrau were neither brief nor cordial.

  Eventually, Belisarius broke it off altogether. "I haven't got time for this nonsense," he snarled. "Tell him an assault just started and I have to leave. Damodara's terms are important and need a quick answer. This is just mindless Aryan pigheaded greed."

  As the telegraph operator did as instructed, Belisarius stalked over to the radio. "I can't believe it. Khusrau's not usually that stupid. Wasting time with endless quibbles over a few square miles of the Punjab, for God's sake!"

  Maurice was running fingers through his beard, as he often did when thinking. "I'm not sure that's it," he said slowly. "Menander told me almost all the Persian grandees are assembled in Sukkur now. Sahrdarans and vurzurgans crawling all over the place. Members of all seven great families except the Suren. Baresmanas stayed behind to more or less run the empire for Khusrau, but he's about the only one."

  Still too irritated to think clearly, Belisarius shook his head. "What's the point, Maurice?"

  "The point is that he's playing to an audience. You know the great houses aren't happy at all with the way he's using small dehgans as imperial officials to administer the Sind. Menander says they're howling like banshees, insisting that they deserve a big share of the Punjab."

  Belisarius rolled his eyes. "Just what's needed! A herd of idiot feudal magnates pouring into. ."

  His eyes came down, squinting at Maurice. "Jesus," he hissed. "Could he be that ruthless?"

  Sure he could, said Aide. It'd be one quick way to break feudalism in Persia. Lead the magnates into a slaughter. No feudalists, no feudalism.

  "Maybe," said Maurice. He gestured with his thumb toward the radio. "But why don't you let me worry about that, if need be? You've got Damodara to deal with."

  "So I do." He looked around. "Calopodius, are you ready?"

  The young signals officer hurried up. "Yes, General. Sorry. I just wanted to make sure the scribes were set."

  The smile he gave Belisarius was half apology and half sheer anticipation.

  "Sorry," he repeated. "I've got the soul of an historian. And this is. . history."

  Belisarius chuckled. "Not yet. But let's see if we can't make it so. The first message is-"

  Chapter 24

  Bharakuccha

  Damodara stared at the message that had just been handed to him. Idly, some part of his mind noted that the radio operator had perhaps the best handwriting he'd ever seen. Artistic calligraphy, almost-yet he'd seen the man jot down the message as rapidly as it came in.

  He tilted the paper in his hand, so that Rana Sanga and Narses could read it also.

  THIS MESSAGE RELAYED THROUGH BARBARICUM STOP SATI CANNOT HEAR IT STOP SATI WILL HEAR ANY MESSAGE SENT TO US STOP ROMANS AND AXUMITES ACCEPT TERMS STOP CANNOT SPEAK TO KUSHANS DIRECTLY BUT FORESEE NO DIFFICULTY THEIR PART STOP PERSIANS USUAL SELVES STOP WILL WORK ON THEM STOP

  "Persians," Narses sneered. "That's why I was able to manipulate them so easily, in my days in Rome. Every border dehgan fancies himself the Lord of the Universe, because he's got a few more goats than his neighbor. It might help if he could read."

  Rana Sanga shrugged. "I don't see where the Persians on their own can be much of a problem. Well. ."

  "Except in the Punjab," said Damodara.

  The radio operator handed him another message.

  TERMS FOR PUNJAB AGREEABLE TO ROME STOP BUT WANT IRON TRIANGLE MAINTAINED AS ROMAN ENCLAVE STOP KEEP THE PEACE STOP

  "He's probably right," said Sanga. "The Rajputs can live with a small Roman territory in the fork of the Indus and the Chenab, easily enough. Probably even be good for us, in terms of trade. And he might keep the Persians from pushing north."

  "Why do you care, anyway?" demanded Narses. "Let the Persians have part of the Punjab, for pity's sake. Just insist on two things. First, they have to stay west of the Indus as far north as Multan; then, west of the line formed by the Chenab and the Jhelum. To make sure they stick to it, expand the Roman enclave. Let the Romans have the whole area in the fork of the Indus and the Chenab all the way up to Multan-and give them Multan."

  Sanga was starting to look outraged. "You'd give the Persians almost half-"

  "Oh, nonsense! It's not more than a third of the Punjab-and most of it, once you get north of Multan, is desert and badlands. Almost useless, except to the hill tribes. So let the Persians deal with the cantankerous bastards. As far as the expanded Roman enclave goes, yes, that's fertile territory. But it's still not all that much-and you can't stop them from taking it anyway, if Link's-"

  He glanced at the radio operator. "If Great Lady Sati's army collapses. Which we're counting on, because if it doesn't we're for exile anyway. Assuming we survive at all."

  "He has a point, Sanga," said Damodara mildly. "There's another advantage, too, which is that giving the Aryans everything west of the Jhelum brings them up against the Kushans in the north."

  Sanga thought about it, briefly. "True. And that means the Persians and the Kushans-not us-would have to deal with the Pathans and the other hill tribes. An endless headache, that is."

  He gave Narses a not-entirely-admiring look. "And what's the second thing?"

  The old eunuch's smile was very cold. "I should think it was obvious. The Persians can have that area-if they can take it."

  After a moment, Damodara laughed harshly. "Y
es. Let them bleed. Done, Narses."

  * * *

  In the Iron Triangle, it was Belisarius' turn to stare at a message. Then, tilt it so that Maurice could see. He also spoke the words aloud, for the benefit of Justinian and Calopodius.

  PROPOSE ROMAN ENCLAVE BETWEEN INDUS AND CHENAB EXPANDED NORTH TO MULTAN STOP ROMANS MAY HAVE MULTAN STOP PERSIANS MAY HAVE PUNJAB WEST OF INDUS TO MULTAN STOP NORTH OF MULTAN MAY HAVE PUNJAB WEST OF CHENAB AND JHELUM STOP IF THEY CAN TAKE IT FROM SATI ARMY STOP

  "It's nice to see our new ally isn't an idiot," mused Justinian. "Unlike the old one."

  The Grand Justiciar got a look on his face that could have been called "dreamy-eyed," if he'd still had eyes.

  "Forget it," said Belisarius, half-chuckling. "We are not going to form a pact with Damodara to attack Persia and carve it up between us."

  "Probably a bad idea," admitted Justinian. "Still, you have to admit it's tempting."

  Maurice had ignored the byplay. By now, having read the message perhaps five times, he was scowling fiercely. "Fine and dandy for you and Damodara-Khusrau's probably in on it, also-to scheme up ways to bleed Persia's aristocracy dry. But I remind you that I will have to be the one to deal with them. And I'm damned if I'm going to go along with any foolhardy plans to launch a massive frontal assault on the Malwa here. Their fortifications aren't much weaker than ours, you know."

  "I doubt that'll be a problem," Belisarius said, shaking his head. "If you're guessing right about Khusrau's plans, he'll probably insist that you remain here while he leads a glorious Aryan sweeping maneuver against the right flank of the enemy. He'll want you to keep some pressure on, of course."

  Maurice grunted. "We're doing that anyway, just being here."

  "Multan's what? About a hundred miles north of here?" asked Justinian. His face still had traces of dreaminess in it. "And at that point, the distance between the two rivers must be at least fifty miles."

  Belisarius drew up a mental image of a map of the Punjab. "Yes, that's about right."

  "So our 'enclave'-using the term very loosely, now-would contain something like two thousand square miles."

  "Um. . Probably closer to fifteen hundred," countered Maurice. "That's an awfully narrow triangle."

  "Still. Even fifteen hundred square miles is a fair amount of breathing room. The land here is all fertile, too, even as arid as it is, because of the rivers. We could support a million people, easily. Some enclave!"

  Belisarius couldn't help but smile. Justinian might insist that he'd given up his wicked old imperial ways of looking at the world, but it never took much to stir the beast up again.

  "That's as may be," he said, a bit brusquely. "It's certainly a good deal for us, at least in the short run-and, better yet, might go a long way to mollifying Theodora. In the long run. . hard to say. We'd be completely dependent on maintaining trade routes through either Persian or Indian territory, don't forget. We wouldn't even have a common border with the Kushans."

  Justinian started to say something, but Belisarius drove over him. "Enough of that, however. We still have a war to win."

  He turned to Calopodius. "Draft another message telling Damodara we agree. And add the following-"

  * * *

  — bz-bzzz-bz-bz-bzzz-bzzz-bz-bz-bzzz-

  "I purely detest that sound," snarled Narses. "My ears are too old to be inflicted with it."

  But he made no move to leave. Didn't so much as twitch a muscle.

  The message finished, the operator handed it to Damodara. Again, the new Malwa emperor tilted it so both Narses and Rana Sanga could read the contents.

  AGREE TO ALL TERMS STOP THINK PERSIANS WILL ALSO STOP BELISARIUS CAN CROSS THE THAR WITH FIVE HUNDRED MEN STOP PROBABLY REACH AJMER IN A FORTNIGHT STOP WELLS ALREADY DUG STOP IF YOU CAN SEND AUTHORIZATION BY THAT TIME CAN PUT RAJPUT FORCE IN THE FIELD TO INTERCEPT SATI STOP KUSHANS WILL DELAY HER AS LONG AS POSSIBLE STOP

  By the time they finished the message, all three pairs of eyes were very wide.

  "God damn him," said Narses tonelessly. "No man should be that smart. Not even me."

  Damodara shook his head, just slightly. "He planned for this, and months ago. There are no wells in the Thar-so he had them dug in advance."

  "Months?" Sanga's headshake was a more vigorous affair. "I think not, Emperor. I think he has been planning this for years."

  His gaze grew unfocused, as he pulled on his beard. "All along, I think. . If you consider everything, from the beginning. He never planned to defeat the Malwa Empire by outright conquest. Never once. Instead, he pried it apart. Worked at all the weaknesses until it erupted. Forged alliances with Axum and Persia-the latter, an ancient Roman enemy-not so much to hammer us but so that he could support and supply a Maratha rebellion. Which he fostered himself. And then. ."

  "We did beat him at the Pass," pointed out Damodara.

  Sanga left off the beard-pulling, and grimaced.

  Damodara chuckled, quite humorlessly. "Yes, I know. A tactical victory only. You could even argue it was a strategic defeat. Still, as an army we were never defeated by him. Not even badly battered, really."

  "Well, of course not," said Narses, in the same toneless voice. "He planned that, too. All through that campaign-if you recall it again, from this angle-he was careful to keep our casualties to a minimum. His army's, as well, of course. We thought at the time that was simply because he needed it intact to take Charax. But, as usual, there was a second string to the bow. He wanted your army intact also. So that, some day, you could do what you're doing now."

  His old eyes were pure slits, now, glaring at the message. "That bastard! I should have had him assassinated when I could."

  Sanga's lips twisted. "And when was that, exactly?"

  "I could have done it when he was still six years old," replied Narses gloomily. "Of course, he was nobody then, so it never occured to me. Just another scion of minor Thracian nobility, with pig shit on his bare feet."

  "Enough!" snapped Damodara. "I, for one, am glad he's here." He held the message up, inclining it toward Sanga. "What's the answer? Can we get someone to Ajmer in time to meet him? Someone the Rajputs there will listen to-but it can't be you, Sanga. We've got our own forced march to make, with a great siege at the end."

  The Rajput king went back to beard-pulling. "A fortnight. . That's the problem. I'll send Jaimal and Udai, with fifty men. Neither of them are kings, but they're both well-known and much respected. Also known to be among my closest lieutenants. The Rajputs will listen to them."

  A smile came, distorted by a sharp yank on the beard. "Ha! After these years, Belisarius is something of a legend among the Rajputs also-and we are a people who adore our legends. The truth, Emperor? If Jaimal and Udai are there to vouch for him, most Rajput warriors will flock to his banner. Especially the young ones."

  "No problem with the oath?"

  "No, not really. The old men will quibble and complain and quarrel, of course. But who cares? It won't be old men that Belisarius leads toward the headwaters of the Ganges, to meet a monster on the field of battle. Young men, they'll be. With no love for Skandagupta, an interpretation of the oath that's good enough-since it was good enough for me-and a commander out of legend."

  He lowered his hand. "Yes, it'll work. If Jaimal and Udai can reach Ajmer in time."

  He looked around. "I need to summon them. Also need a map. One moment."

  He went to the door, opened it, and barked the orders.

  Damodara leaned over the radio operator's shoulder. "How much longer can we transmit?"

  "Hard to say, Your Majesty. The best time, at this distance, is around sunrise and sunset. But, especially once the sun is down, the window-that's what we call it-can stay open for hours. All night, sometimes."

  "We'll just have to hope for the best. If necessary, we can send the final message in the morning. For now, send the following. Exactly as I give it you, understand? Great Lady Sati will be receiving it also, and she mustn't be able to understand what
it means."

  * * *

  The operator's nod was nervous, but not the terrified gesture it had been hours earlier. As time had passed, the man had come to conclude that while the new self-proclaimed emperor was a scary man-the tall Rajput and the evil-looking old eunuch, even worse-he was not as scary as Nanda Lal had been.

  Not even close. The truth was that the radio operator had no more love for the old dynasty than anybody. Certainly not for their stinking priests and torturers.

  * * *

  The buzzing was brief.

  "Here's all there is, General," Calopodius said apologetically. "I thought there'd be more. And what there is doesn't make much sense."

  Belisarius looked at the message.

  AGREE IN PRINCIPLE STOP RETURN OF PEDDLER EMERALD MAY BE DELAYED STOP

  He needed a moment himself, to decipher it. "Very clever. Sanga must have found that peddler, after all."

  "What peddler?" demanded Justinian. "And what kind of peddler has an emerald to begin with?"

  "A very happy peddler-although I imagine his joy vanished once Sanga caught him."

  Belisarius handed the message back to Calopodius. "Years ago, when I fled India, I finally shook off Sanga and his men at Ajmer. I traded my horses for three camels and all the water and supplies I needed to cross the desert. To clinch the deal, I gave the peddler one of the emeralds that had been part of Skandagupta's bribe and told him there'd be another one for him if he delivered a message in Bharakuccha to a Captain Jason, commanding a vessel named the Argo."

  Maurice already knew the story, so he simply smiled. Calopodius and Justinian laughed aloud.

  "That peddler must have thought I was crazy, giving him an emerald for camels. But it did the trick. Sanga and his men followed the horse tracks-I'd nicked one of the hooves to make it distinctive-and by the time they could have run down the peddler and realized what happened, I was well into the Thar. No way to catch me then."