In the Heart of Darkness

Pause. Hesitant nods, now, from most of the Malwa except Damodara and two or three others. It was obvious that few of them had made the effort to learn anything about Belisarius, even though much information was readily available from the excellent Malwa espionage apparatus.

"For him to have refused to execute the prisoners would have imputed a lack of willpower. A tendency to shrink from necessary action, to waver in the face of carnage."

The nods were no longer hesitant. Malwa officials needed no explanation of the value of a reputation for ruthlessness.

"Three. His valor."

Here, he lost them completely, except—he thought—for Damodara. Sanga took a breath, elaborated:

"It is that valor which explains the abrupt manner of the execution, and the—otherwise inexcusable—manner in which it was done. The failure to warn Lord Venandakatra and other officials, or to turn the prisoners aside so that the blood of rebels would not pollute the worthy. The—" Maintain a respectful face. Do it. "—utterly disgraceful lack of respect shown to the Emperor's Ye-tai bodyguards."

He paused, scanned his audience. They were still completely at a loss. Sanga sighed, took a deep breath, explained the obvious:

"You cannot place a man like Belisarius in such a position and expect that he will react in any way other than one which demonstrates, for all to see, that he is fearless and ferocious. Lord Venandakatra chose to place General Belisarius in a situation which clearly expressed contempt for him. That was a mistake. A man like Belisarius will no more tolerate contempt than would a tiger."

Dawning comprehension, still faint. Sanga put it as simply as possible:

"My Lords. Great Emperor. You can, if you choose, bait a tiger in a cage to see if he has claws. If you do so, however, make sure to use a long stick."

All the officials laughed, now, except Venandakatra. Venandakatra began to bestow a baleful glare upon the Rajput until, out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the Emperor was laughing also. Rana Sanga, fascinated despite himself, watched the struggle on Venandakatra's face between instinctive malice and calculating self-interest.

Self-interest won. Venandakatra joined in the laughter, and made a small self-deprecating gesture. Then he arose and said:

"I agree with Rana Sanga. Many times I have told you of this man's mettle. Perhaps now you will listen." Again, the little self-deprecating gesture. "I should have listened to my voice, myself. I fear I allowed your skepticism to infect me."

His little laugh now had more substance, having scored his own point. Venandakatra smiled ruefully, nodded graciously at the Rajput, and said:

"My thanks, Rana Sanga, for reminding me of the dangers of tiger-baiting. I assure you, next time I will use a very long stick."

It was a dismissal. Relieved, Sanga began to turn away. Then, reminding himself of his own honor, he turned back.

I swore an oath.

"I must also say that—"

"That's enough, Sanga!" snapped Lord Tathagata. The Malwa commander had enjoyed Venandakatra's discomfiture, but—the fellow was a mere Rajput, when all was said and done.

Sanga stood motionless.

"Enough," growled Tathagata.

Sanga shrugged, ever so slightly, prostrated himself again before the Emperor, and resumed his seat toward the rear.

Tathagata began to speak, but Damodara interrupted.

"Might I suggest, noble Malwa, that we take a short break for refreshment? We are all a bit fatigued."

Tathagata glanced at the Emperor. Skandagupta nodded, made a gesture.

"Very well. We will resume in an hour."

Outside the pavilion, where he had stepped for a breath of air, Sanga was shortly joined by Damodara.

"Tell me," commanded the Malwa lord.

Sanga sighed. He had been half-hoping that Damodara would ask. And half-dreading it.

I swore an oath.

"Speak bluntly, Sanga. You need not fear repercussions. Not from me."

The Rajput stared down at the short, plump officer. By Malwa standards, Damodara was young for a top commander. In his late thirties, perhaps. But, like all members of the dynasty destined by birth for high command, he was no warrior. Still—

I swore an oath.

"Venandakatra has completely misunderstood Belisarius, Lord Damodara. This entire discussion"—he gestured toward the pavilion—"is a farce."

Damodara was frowning. Not with anger, simply concentration.

"Explain."

"There is not the slightest chance that Belisarius will betray Rome."

Damodara's eyes widened. He took a half-step back. Sanga drove on.

"He is playing Venandakatra for a fool. He has no intention of giving his allegiance to Malwa. He is simply insinuating himself into our graces as far as possible, in order to steal as many of our secrets as he can before returning to Rome."

Damodara looked away, tugging thoughtfully on his beard.

"You think—how do you know? Has he said anything to you?"