He waved his hand, indicating the soldiers under Damodara's command who were setting up their own camps and lines of defense against any possible sallies from the city. "Merely one blade among tens of thousands of others."
"Certainly. But. ." Damodara's eyes widened a bit. "Can you get back into the city? By now, the guards will be on the alert for spies."
"Oh, yes. Don't forget that they're mediocre guards, and"-Ajatasutra cleared his throat modestly-"I am very far from a mediocre assassin. I'll get in."
His good humor faded, however, as he contemplated his superb horse. "Alas, the horse won't. Not even sorry garrison troops will think it's a tinker's nag."
He bowed low. "May I present him to Your Majesty, then? A token of my esteem. No! My awe at Your effulgent presence, divine in its aspect."
Damodara laughed. And what was he to do with Ajatasutra, for that matter, if he took the throne? He didn't doubt the assassin's loyalty, but within a few years Ajatasutra's mocking ways would have half the courtiers in Kausambi demanding his head.
But there'd be time enough to deal with that later. First, he had to take Kausambi.
"Go, Ajatasutra. If we're both still alive in a few days, I'll return the horse."
It seemed impolitic to add: You might need it.
* * *
From their position just south of the junction of the Ganges and Yamuna rivers, the five members of the Malwa assassination team stared at the empire's capital city. That part of it they could see looked fine. But they could easily hear the sound of big guns firing to the west.
"Marvelous," snarled the captain. "Just perfect. After ten thousand miles-more like eleven, by now-we finally get back to Kausambi-having succeeded in doing nothing-and the city's under siege."
"We'll never get in," said his lieutenant, morosely. "No way the guards will pass five strange men."
It was true enough. No doubt, ensconced somewhere in the huge imperial palace, were the records that would identify the assassination team and establish their bona fides. Probably, even, two or three of Nanda Lal's subordinates who would recognize them personally. The captain and the lieutenant, at least.
And so what? The odds that any such spymasters would heed a summons from a gate's guards-assuming the guards were willing to send a summons in the first place, instead of simply killing the five assassins and saving themselves a lot of possible trouble-were too low to even think about.
"No hope for it," he sighed. "We may as well cross the Ganges and set up camp on the other side, as close as we can get to the eastern gate. Maybe something will turn up."
His lieutenant eyed the distance. "At least it's not far." He spit on the ground. "We laugh at a few miles, after so many wasted thousands."
Chapter 37
The Ganges
There had been many times, since the war began, that Belisarius had been glad to have Abbu and his Arab scouts in his service.
Never more than now.
"Idiot Rajputs would have gotten you into another war, General," said the old bedouin chief, scowling. "Are they blind? Who else wears topknots?"
Abbu was being a little uncharitable, but. . only a little. It was not as if Rajputs weren't familiar with Kushans. Until recently, there had been tens of thousands of Kushans in the Malwa military, many of whom had served in the same armies as Rajputs, if not in the same units.
On the other hand-being charitable-there were still considerable numbers of Kushans in the service of the Malwa empire. By no means all of the Kushans had defected after Kungas re-created the old Kushan kingdom.
But they were no longer trusted, and there was no possibility at all that Link had included Kushan units in its army when it marched from the Punjab. Even idiot Rajputs should have understood that much.
Even idiot teenage Rajputs.
"They're still young," muttered old Jaisal. "Young men don't think of these things."
Belisarius squelched his irritation. It would be purely stupid to offend the Rajputs who constituted almost his entire army, after all.
"Well, there was no harm done, apparently. The Kushans fled the scene as soon as contact was made and"-he cleared his throat, as diplomatically as possible-"the Rajput cavalrymen immediately began firing on them."
That fact was interesting, in and of itself. Under normal circumstances, Kushans were quite belligerent enough to have responded to the initial Rajput bow fire by attacking them. Especially since, by all accounts-those of the Rajputs as well as the Arab scouts-the Kushans had outnumbered the Rajput cavalry unit.
Abbu put his thoughts into words. "They were expecting us, General. Only possible answer."
"Yes." Belisarius scratched his chin. "I'm almost sure that means Kungas himself is here. He must have gambled that Maurice could keep the main Malwa army pinned in the south Punjab, while he marched into the Ganges plain to attack Link's army."
"Bold man!"
Belisarius smiled. "Well, yes. A timid fellow would hardly have marched across Central Asia in the middle of the world's greatest war to set up a new kingdom. With a new Greek bookworm wife, to boot."
Abbu had met Irene. "Crazy man," he muttered, his scowl returning.
Belisarius swiveled in the saddle to face Dasal and the other Rajput kings. "Can you keep your men under control? I have got to establish contact with the Kushans-and, as Abbu says, I don't need to start a new war with my allies."
All the Rajput kings had the grace to look embarrassed for a moment. They didn't answer immediately, however, Belisarius noted.
He wasn't surprised. Their smashing victory over the Mathura garrison had filled the young Rajput warriors with elation so great it bordered on heedlessness and reckless arrogance. Inexperienced to begin with, they were in no mood to listen to the lectures of old kings concerning the danger of accidentally fighting allies in the middle of a turbulent campaign of marches and countermarches. "Friendly fire," as a future world would call it, was not something a nineteen-year-old Rajput cavalryman gave much thought to when he woke up in the morning. Or at any time of the day or night.
"Right." Belisarius swiveled again and brought Jaimal and Udai Singh under his gaze.
"Can you manage it?"
Jaimal smiled thinly. "Oh, yes, General Belisarius." He gave the old kings a sly look. "Our men are real veterans."
"But there are only fifty of us," cautioned Udai Singh.
"That should be enough," Belisarius said. "I'll send Abbu and some of his scouts with you, along with a few of my cataphracts. All we need to do, for the moment, is make contact with the Kushans. Set up a time and place where Kungas and I can meet-assuming I'm right, and he's here. If not, whoever their commander is."
Sanga's two lieutenants trotted off, with Abbu and Stylian trailing behind. Belisarius could rely on Stylian to select level-headed cataphracts for the business. In the meantime, he had a different problem to deal with.
"I'm still guessing," he said to the kings, "but I'm pretty sure Kungas will have most of his army on the north bank of the Ganges. It's what I would do in his place. Keep Sati from crossing the river and using it as a shield between us and her."
Faced with a straightforward tactical issue, the kings were more at ease.
"Agreed," said Dasal. "Which means-until we can establish liaison-we should stay on this side."
"This side, and east of here," his younger brother grunted. "Resume the burning. Turn everything for twenty miles to the east into a wasteland. The Malwa will be stranded."
"The young men will complain," complained Chachu.
Dasal's frown might have been envied by Jove. "The young men will do as they are told."