The Tide of Victory

He turned and moved toward the rear of the ship, issuing orders to his soldiers as he went. By the time the desperate Malwa in the river had managed to seize one of the tow lines tossed by the Romans, Menander had soldiers ready to repel any possible boarding attempt. And he had both Puckle guns manned, loaded and ready to fire.

Long before they reached the docks that Ashot's men had erected in anticipation of their arrival, however, Menander was no longer worried about boarders. It was clear as day that the Malwa being towed to safety had no more intention of turning on their rescuers than ducklings would attack their mama. On those faces which were close enough for Menander to read any expression, he could see nothing beyond relief.

For those men, obviously, the war was over. And glad enough they were, to see the end of it come. Most of them were peasants, after all. Hard labor on too little food was no stranger to them. Nothing to enjoy, of course. But also—nothing to fear.

* * *

Ashot himself met Menander at the dock, shouting his praise and glee, and clapping the young officer on the shoulder.

"Knew you'd make it! Good thing, too—we're running low on everything."

Ashot's merry eyes moved to the Malwa surrendering as they came ashore. "And another fine catch, I see. I tell you, Menander, there have been times over the past weeks when I've felt more like a fisherman than a soldier."

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Framed

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Chapter 34

THE HINDU KUSH

Autumn, 533 A.D.

"How many Pathans, do you figure?" asked Kungas.

As Vasudeva pondered the question, Kungas kept studying the Malwa positions through the telescope which Belisarius had given him when he left Charax. His position, standing atop the ruins of a centuries-old Buddhist stupa destroyed by the Ye-tai when they conquered the Kushans, gave him a good view of the fortress which blocked the Khyber Pass at its narrowest point.

"Hard to say," muttered his army commander. "They're scouts and skirmishers, only, so they move around too much to get a good count."

"Not more than a few hundred?"

"If that many. With Sanga and the Rajputs a thousand miles away, the Pathan `allegiance' to the Malwa is threadbare at best. At a guess, the only Pathans the Malwa have under their command down there are maybe two hundred tribal outcasts. The tribes themselves seem to be pulling back to their fortified villages and assuming a neutral stance."

"Let's hope Irene can keep them there," murmured Kungas. He lowered the telescope. "Which will depend, more than anything, on whether we can take that fortress and drive the Malwa out of the Khyber Pass entirely."

He began clambering down from the ruins. "With that few Pathans on the other side, we can seize the high ground. Use grenades to clear the outlying fortifications and then set up mortars and the field guns to start bombarding the big fortress across the narrows. Stupid bastards! They haven't fought in mountain country for too many years."

Now that they were on level ground, Vasudeva was able to concentrate on Kungas' plan. The way he was tugging the tip of his goatee and the furrows in his face indicated some doubts.

"Mortars, yes. Easy enough to haul up those rocks. But field artillery too? We could get them up there, sure enough. Not easily, mind you, but it can be done. But what's the point? All we have in the way of field guns are three-pounders. They're too light to break down the walls and—firing round shot, which is all we have—they won't produce many casualties."

Kungas shook his head. "I got a better look at that fortress than you did, Vasudeva, using the telescope. The outer walls are thick enough, to be sure, but everything—including all the interior walls and pits—is typical sangar construction. Nothing more than piled up fieldstone. They weren't expecting to be defending the Khyber Pass—of all places!—so that fortress was built in a hurry. Probably didn't even finish it until a few weeks ago, judging from what I could see of the outlying forts. Half of those forts are unfinished still."

Vasudeva was still frowning. Although he actually had more experience than Kungas using gunpowder weaponry, his mind was slower to adjust to the new reality than was that of his king.

Kungas helped him along. "Think what will happen when a solid ball of iron hits that loose fieldstone."

Vasudeva's face cleared, and he left off tugging the goatee. "Of course! As good as shrapnel!"

The army commander looked down at the soil between his feet and gave it a little stamp. "Solid rock, for all it matters. No way to dig rifle pits here." His eyes lifted, and he studied the distant fortress. "There neither. All their men will be above ground, using elevated sangar instead of holes in the ground. May as well have surrounded themselves with shells."