The Dance of Time

"I thought we'd start with medical supplies and equipment. Also pharmaceuticals. Nothing fancy, though. Mostly soap, dyes and cosmetics, at the beginning. Belisarius told me those were the substances that were the big money-makers for the chemical industry when it got really started in the future. In what he calls the 'industrial revolution.' Once the business gets rolling, we can expand into medicines."

"And exactly which one of us is going to oversee and organize this grand scheme of yours?" she demanded.

"Neither of us. We just front the money—I can get enough to start from my father—and we—mostly you—provide the political influence. I figured we could bring up your banker from Barbaricum—"

"Pulinda?"

"Yes, him. He's shrewd as they come, and he knows India. For running the technical end, we'll use Eusebius."

"If he agrees. He might not—"

"I already asked him. He says he'd love to. He's tired of figuring out new ways to kill people."

"You already asked him?"

"Yes. And I think Justinian will go for it, too. Not directly, of course. He's got to get back to Constantinople as soon as the war's over or Theodora will send out the executioners. But he's intrigued by the idea and says he's sure he can siphon us some imperial financing—provided he gets to play with the gadgets at his end."

The pallet lurched. Calopodius knew that Anna had risen to her feet. Jumped to her feet, more like.

"You asked the Emperor of Rome to be our business partner in a manufacturing scheme? Are you out of your mind?"

"He's not the Emperor any longer, dear," Calopodius pointed out mildly. "Photius is."

"Still!"

"He's the Grand Justiciar. And you know how much he loves to play with gadgets."

"My husband!" Anna burst into laughter that was not abrupt at all.

* * *

Kungas came to his decision and moved away from the window looking out over Peshawar. "All right," he said, "we'll do it."

He gave the small group of Ye-tai deserters a gaze that wasn't cold so much as simply impassive. The way a glacier contemplates so many rocks who might be in its way when it ground forward to the sea. More indifferent than icy, since the outcome was inevitable.

The Ye-tai were squatting on the floor of his private audience chamber. They seemed like so many rocks, indeed, as motionless as they were. And for good reason. First, they were disarmed. Second, the Kushan soldiers standing around and guarding them were armed to the teeth. Third, there was no love lost between Kushans and Ye-tai to begin with. Hadn't been for a century, since the invading Ye-tai had broken the Kushan kingdom that Kungas had re-created.

"If you're lying, of course, you're dead men."

The Ye-tai squad leader made a shrug that was as minimal as any Kungas himself might have made. "Why would we lie?"

"I can't think of any reason myself. Which is why I decided to believe you." Kungas' crack of a smile came. "Besides, Sarmatians are noted for their honesty. Even half-Sarmatians."

That little joke brought a ripple of laughter in the room, as much from the Kushan guards as the Ye-tai prisoners. For the first time since they'd been ushered into the chamber—frog-marched, more like—the Ye-tai visibly relaxed.

Although his thin smile had remained, Kungas had not joined the laughter. When it ended, he shook his head.

"I'm not joking, really. You six are the founding members of my new military unit. If you're not lying—and I'm assuming you aren't—then you won't be the last Malwa deserters coming over to us. So I think I'll enroll all of you in the... What to call it?"

Irene piped up, sitting on a chair to one side. "The Royal Sarmatian Guards."

"That'll do nicely." Kungas turned to his lieutenants. "Get the army formed up. I want to march out tomorrow morning, early. Leave five thousand men in the capital."

"I won't need that many," said Irene. "Three thousand is plenty to maintain order and keep the hill tribes from getting any ideas."

Kungas thought about it, and decided she was right. He could leave the additional two thousand men with the five thousand already garrisoning the forts in the passes at Margalla and Kohat. That would secure the gates to the kingdom and leave him almost twenty thousand men to do...

Whatever. He didn't know yet. He was quite sure the Ye-tai deserters weren't lying. But that didn't necessarily mean their assessment of things was all that accurate, either.

Still, he thought it was probably was. Close enough, anyway. Kungas had been fighting almost since he was a boy. There was that smell in the air, of an enemy starting to come apart.

* * *

When Jaimal caught his first glimpse of the walls of Ajmer, he felt the greatest exhilaration he'd ever felt in his life. Even though he was also completely exhausted.

He glanced at Udai Singh, riding next to him at the head of the small Rajput cavalry column, and saw the same gleaming smile he must have had on his own face.

"A ride of legend!" Udai shouted. Half-croaked, rather.