"Shakuntala will take a bit of time," cautioned Sati. "Even after we take Deogiri."
She looked to Nanda Lal. "We must tighten the blockade of Suppara. Make sure the rebel empress does not make her escape."
The spymaster scowled. "I'm afraid that's impossible. We don't have the naval forces available-not with Axum to contend with."
"A pity," muttered Skandagupta, "that we didn't catch Prince Eon with the rest." He shrugged. "But I don't see where it matters. Even if Shakuntala escapes after we take Deogiri, where can she go? Only to Ethiopia, or Rome. Where she will be nothing but an impoverished exile."
The emperor nodded toward Sati. "Just as Link said, long ago. Without Majarashtra, Shakuntala is nothing but a nuisance."
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."
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.
