Sati nodded grudging agreement. "True. Although Iwould prefer to see her flayed."
"Whatever we do," sneered Nanda Lal, "we certainly won't make the mistake of handing her over to Venandakatra again. Dead-or exiled. That's it."
The spymaster reached up and stroked his nose. As always, the feel of that crushed and mangled proboscis stirred his fury. Belisarius had done for that.
Since there was no way, at present, to vent his feelings for Belisarius, Nanda Lal transferred his cold rage elsewhere. "One last point," he snarled, "before we end this meeting. The rebel bands in Bihar and Bengal are growing bolder. I recommend-"
"More impalings!" snapped the emperor. "Line every road with the bandits!"
"I agree," chimed in Great Lady Sati. "The male ones, anyway. Better to turn their women over to the soldiers, before auctioning them to the whoremasters. Add defilement to destruction. That will cow the peasants."
Nanda Lal's snarl of fury slid into something resembling a leer. " Not enough," he demurred. "It's too hard to catch the bandits in the forests."
He bestowed the leer on the emperor. "Since all the news is goodBelisarius defeated; Deogiri about to fall-I see no reason that half your Imperial Guard can't be released for a campaign."
The emperor smiled. Grinned. "Excellent idea! The Ye-tai are getting restless, anyway, from garrison duty here in Kausambi. A campaign in Bihar and Bengal would do them good."
Skandagupta leaned forward, planting his hands on his knees. "What do you have in mind? A punitive campaign, right through the countryside?" He barked a laugh. "Yes! Sweep everything, like a knife. Cut a swath twenty miles wide-from Pataliputra to the Bay of Bengal. The hell with hunting for bandits! Just burn everything, kill everyone." Another barked laugh. "Except the women, of course. My Yetai will have a better use for those."
Nanda Lal leaned forward to match gazes with the emperor. "I was thinking of two swaths, actually. One-just as you say-starting at Pataliputra. The other-"
There came a knock on the door. Nanda Lal paused. One of the assassins opened the door and peered through. A moment later, he turned to the emperor and announced: "Sire, your lunch is here."
"Ah!" exclaimed Skandagupta. "Excellent." He smacked his hands together. "Let us eat. We can develop our plans over the meal."
"Food will sustain us," concurred Sati. "This will be a long session."
Nanda Lal's leer returned. "Yes-but the discussion will season the meal. I like my food hot and spicy."
Chapter 18
Majarashtra
Summer, 532 A.D.
Irene stared nervously at the Malwa milling around the impromptu field camp which Ezana's soldiers had set up alongside the road to Deogiri. There appeared to be thousands of them-especially leering Yetai, who were making no attempt to hide their ogling of her. Muttered phrases swelled from the mob. The content of those coarse words was not quite audible, but their meaning was more than clear enough-like surf, frothing lust. Ezana's four hundred sarwen, standing guard with their spears in hand, reminded her of a pitiful dike before a surging ocean. A child's sand castle, with the tide about to come in.
Why did I ever agree to do this? Irene demanded of herself.
Herself babbled reassurance: "Seemed like a good idea at the time."
That was then; this is now.
"Get a grip on yourself, woman. The whole idea was to distract them, which has definitely been done."
Sure has. I'll bet they'll be even more distracted when all four thousand of them start gang-raping me. Wonderful!
"You and your husband, Ezana, are supposed to be envoys from the King of the Vandals, seeking an alliance against Rome. Surely they wouldn't-"
Surely, my ass! Do those drooling thugs look like diplomats to you? Whoever came up with this insane scheme?
"Well, actually-youdid."
Thanks for reminding me. I forgot I'm an idiot.
"It's a good plan," herself repeated stubbornly. Herself reminded Irene of one child reassuring another that there really aren't any monsters, as the ogre stuffs them into his gullet.
I'm an idiot. Idiot-idiot-idiot! This is the stupidest plan Ezana entered the small pavilion-not much more than a canopy, really, shielding the richly garbed "Vandal" noblewoman from the blistering sun. Her "noble African husband" had to stoop, in order to keep his elaborate ostrich-plume headdress from being swept off.
"Good plan!" he grunted, as soon as he straightened. Ezana gazed placidly on the Malwa soldiery swarming around them. In the far distance, to the north, the first of the siege guns in the column was now visible, being painfully hauled another few feet south to Deogiri.
"Will you look at that rabble?" he demanded. "They make bedouin look like a Macedonian phalanx. The officers are worse than the men."
"Don't remind me," snarled Irene. She glanced apprehensively at the cluster of officers sitting their horses nearby. The officers were perched a few yards up a slope, giving them a better view of Irene than that enjoyed by the common troops. Behind them reared the crest of one of Majarashtra's multitude of ridges.
The officers were ogling her even more openly than the Ye-tai. She saw one of them say something, followed by a round of leering laughs.
"What iswrong with these animals?" she demanded, half-angrily and half-nervously. "Haven't they ever seen a woman before? If I looked like Antonina, I might understand it. She could make the sun stop in its tracks. But I'm-"
She gestured at herself. Again, anger was mixed with apprehension. "I'm not ugly, I suppose. But with my big nose-"
Ezana chuckled. "You are quite an attractive woman, Irene, in my opinion. But it really doesn't matter."
He hooked a thumb toward the Malwa. "This is why we agreed to the plan, Irene. If you hadn't volunteered to come, we never would have considered it. Kungas and I both knew what would happen, if the Malwa encountered a large party of foreigners claiming to have been shipwrecked on the coast. They are not diplomats. They would have just attacked us, on general principle. Even if they weren't guarding their precious siege guns."
He gazed at her with approval. "But withyou here, all dressed up in such finery-" His gaze, falling on her bosom, became very approving. "Suchprovocative finery-scandalous, the way foreign women dress! And they're all sluts, those heathens, everybody knows it."
Irene scowled. "Those monkeys know as much about Vandals as I do about-" She groped for a simile, but couldn't find an appropriate one. With her voracious reading habits, Irene couldn't think of any subject that she didn't know more about than Ye-tai and Malwa soldiers did about the people and politics of North Africa.
Ezana grinned. "They know Africa is a land of black people." He cupped his hand under his chin, as if presenting his ebony face. "And if the woman is pale, and beautiful, so much the more exotic!"
"I amnot beautiful," insisted Irene.
Ezana, still grinning, shook his head. Then, nodding toward the Malwa soldiers gawking at her: "You look beautiful tothem, woman. After weeks on the road, struggling through India's heat and dust, you look like Aphrodite herself."
Again, he admired her bosom. "Especially your tits."
Even as nervous as she was, Irene couldn't help but chuckle. She glanced down at the objects in question, which were almost entirely visible due to the cut of her tunic. She had overseen the seamstresses in Suppara herself, blending Roman style with what she remembered of the costumes of Minoan women painted on vases. The small amount of skin still covered-a fifth, at most-simply framed, supported, presented, and emphasized the splendid remainder.
"Itis impressive, isn't it? Makes me look like Antonina, almost."
Ezana's grin faded to a simple smile. "It was bound to happen, Irene. You've never been a soldier, on a long and arduous march. Even disciplined sarwen or Roman cataphracts would be ragged in their ranks, with every man eager to get a look. Hot, tired, aching feet and butts-most of all,bored. Especially since Rao stopped attacking the column many days ago."