Belisarius - Destiny's Shield Part 46

Ashot's eyes widened. So did Hermogenes'.

"Not in the middle of it?" asked the Armenian cataphract.

Antonina smiled. Then, turned to face Zeno.

"I believe it's time for the Knights Hospitaler to take center stage."

Zeno nodded solemnly. "So do I, Antonina. And this is the perfect opportunity."

"I'm not so sure about that," muttered Hermo-genes. He gave Zeno a half-apologetic, half-skeptical glance. "Meaning no offense, but your monks have only had a small amount of training. This is one h.e.l.l of a messy situation to throw them into."

Antonina started to intervene. But then, seeing the confident expression on Zeno's face, decided to let the Knight Hospitaler handle the matter.

"We have trained much more than you realize, Hermogenes," said Zeno. "Not"-he waved his hand-"with your kind of full armor and weapons in a field battle situation, of course. But we took advantage of the very long voyage here to train on board the grain ships. With quarterstaffs."

Hermogenes stared at the Knights Hospitaler as if the man had just announced that he was armed with bread sticks. Ashot was positively goggling.

"Quarterstaffs?" choked the Armenian cataphract.

Now, Antonina did intervene. "That was my husband's idea," she stated. "He said it was the perfect weapon for riot duty."

Hearing the authority of Belisarius invoked, Ashot and Hermogenes reined in their disdain. A bit.

Zeno spoke up again. "I do not think you fully understand the situation here, Hermogenes. Ashot." He cleared his throat. "I am Egyptian myself, you know. I wasn't born in Alexandria-I come from Naucratis, in the Delta-but I am familiar with the place. And its religious politics."

He pointed through the open doors. "We must be very careful. We do not want to create martyrs. And-especially-we don't want to infuriate the great ma.s.ses of orthodox Greeks who make up a third of Alexandria's populace."

He nodded approvingly at Antonina. "You saw how well Antonina handled the guilds, earlier. But you musn't forget that almost all of those men are Greeks, and orthodox. They completely dominate the city's commerce and manufacture. They are the same men we will be relying on-tomorrow, and for years to come-to forge the Roman a.r.s.enal against the Malwa. For doctrinal reasons, most of those people are inclined to support Paul and his diehards. But they are also uneasy about their fanaticism, and their thuggery. Bad for business, if nothing else."

Antonina pitched in. "It's essential that we drive a wedge between Paul's fanatics and the majority of the orthodox population. If we have a ma.s.sacre, the city's Greeks will be driven into open opposition. And you know as well as I do-better than I do-how the cataphracts and the regular infantry will hammer into that mob if they're in the forefront."

She stared at Ashot and Hermogenes. The two officers looked away.

"You know!" she snapped. "Those men are trained to do one thing, and one thing only. Slaughter people. Do you really want to unleash a volley of cataphract arrows against a crowd? This is not the Nika revolt, G.o.d d.a.m.n it! There, we were dealing with Malwa kshatriya and thousands of professional thugs armed to the teeth. Here-"

She blew out her breath. "Christ! Half of that crowd will be there more out of excitement and curiosity than anything else. Many of them will be women and children. You may be crazy, but I'm not. Theodora sent me here to stabilize imperial rule in Egypt. To stop a civil war, not start one."

Ashot and Hermogenes were looking hangdog, now. But Antonina was relentless.

"That's the way it's going to be. I have complete confidence that the Knights Hospitaler can handle the situation. I simply want you there-in the background, but fully armed and armored-to add a little spice to the meal. Just to let the crowd know, after Paul's goons have been beaten into a pulp and routed, that it could have been one h.e.l.l of a lot worse."

She chuckled, very coldly. "You may sneer at quarterstaffs, but my husband doesn't. And I think, by the end of the day, you won't be sneering either."

She straightened, a.s.suming as tall a stance as she could. Which wasn't much, but quite enough.

"You have your orders. Follow them."

Hermogenes and Ashot left then, very hastily. An unkind observer might have said they scurried. An instant later, Zeno followed. His pace, however, was slower. Very proud, that stride was.

Euphronius, also, began to leave. But after taking three steps, he stopped. He fidgeted, then turned around.

"Yes?" asked Antonina.

The Syrian cleared his throat. "My grenadiers are also not trained to do anything other than-uh, slaughter people. And grenades are even more indiscriminate than arrows. I don't understand how you expect me to-"

Antonina laughed. "Euphronius! Relax!"

She walked over, smiling, and placed a rea.s.suring hand on his arm.

"First of all, you're not going to be dealing with a crowd. You're going to be dealing with gangs. There won't be any innocent onlookers in that mob, believe me. Hippodrome thugs, they'll be, looking to pillage the Jews. Robbers, rapists, murderers-nothing else."

The smile vanished. Her next words were almost snarled.

"Kill as many of them as you can, Euphronius. The more, the better. And then have Triphiodoros and his infantry hang whatever prisoners you take. On the spot. No mercy. None. If you wind up draping the outskirts of the Delta Quarter with intestines, blood, brains, and corpses, you'll make me a very happy woman."

Euphronius gave out a little sigh of relief. "Oh," he said. Then, with a sudden, savage grin: "We can do that. No problem."

Now he, too, was hurrying out of the room. Antonina was left alone with Theodosius.

For a moment, she and the new Patriarch stared at each other. Theodosius had said nothing, during the preceding discussion. But his anxiety had been obvious to Antonina. The anxiety was gone, now. But she was uncertain what emotion had replaced it. Theodosius was giving her a very odd look.

"Is something troubling you, Patriarch?"

"Not at all," replied Theodosius, shaking his head. "I was just-how can I explain?"

He smiled, fluttering his hands. "I suppose you could say I was contemplating G.o.d's irony. It's an aspect of the Supreme Being which most theologians miss entirely, in my experience."

Antonina frowned. "I'm afraid I don't-"

Again, the fluttering hands. "When the fanatic Paul calls you the Wh.o.r.e of Babylon, he demonstrates his ignorance. His stupidity, actually. The essence of Christ is his mercy, Antonina. And who, in this chaos called Alexandria, could find that mercy-other than a woman who understands the difference between sin and evil?"

Antonina was still frowning. Theodosius sighed.

"I am not explaining myself well. Let me just say that I am very glad that you are here, and not someone else. Someone full of their own self-righteousness. I will leave it at that."

Her frown faded, replaced by a half-rueful little smile. "I suppose I've adopted my husband's crooked way of looking at things."

"Crooked? Perhaps." The Patriarch turned to go. "But I would remind you, Antonina, that a grapevine is also crooked. Yet it bears the world's most treasured fruit."

When she was finally alone, Antonina walked slowly back to her chair and took a seat. She would not be able to enjoy that rest for long, for she intended to take her place with the cataphracts backing the Knights Templar. Within minutes, she would have to don her own armor. And wear it, throughout the day, under the hammering sun of Egypt. She grimaced, thinking of the sweltering heat that armor would bring.

But she needed that moment, alone. To remember the crooked mind-and the straight soul-of her absent husband.

"Be safe, love," she whispered. "Oh, please-be safe."

Chapter 32.

THE EUPHRATES.

Autumn, 531 a.d.

"This is ridiculous!" snarled Belisarius. "This isn't 'safe'-it's absurd!"

"We gave our oath, general," said Anastasius solemnly.

"To the Persian Emperor himself," added Valen-tinian, trying-and failing quite miserably-to look suitably lugubrious.

Belisarius glared at both of them. Then, transferred the glare onto the enemy, some distance away.

Quite some distance away. Belisarius, along with Anastasius and Valentinian, were standing on top of the huge pile of stones which the Kushans had dug out of the Nehar Malka. The Syrian infan-trymen who defended that man-made hill had constructed an observation platform from which Belisarius could watch the progress of the battle. They had also built a narrow, winding road-more of a path, really-which led up to the summit from the protected northern side of the rockpile.

As a vantage point from which to observe the battle, Belisarius could find no fault with the thing. Even without his telescope, the rock-hill's elevation gave him an excellent view of the enemy's dispositions on the south side of the Euphrates and the Nehar Malka. The telescope enabled him to pick out even small details of the enemy's formations.

But- "G.o.d d.a.m.n it," he growled, "I'm too far away. By the time a courier gets up here and back again-no way to ride a horse up that so-called road-I might as well have given orders for yesterday's breakfast."

It's safe, insisted Aide.

Before Belisarius could make a reply, one of the Malwa rockets fired at the Roman troops defending the dam below veered wildly off course. For a moment, it seemed as if the missile was heading directly for the rockpile. Close enough, at least, that Valentinian and Anastasius began to take cover behind the low wall surrounding the platform.

Growling with satisfaction, Belisarius stood as erect as possible.

Get down! Get down!

Belisarius, sarcastically: "Safe," remember? "Safe," you said.

And, in truth, safe it was. With typical unpre-dictability, the rocket suddenly swerved to the east. A few seconds later, it exploded harmlessly over the middle of the Nehar Malka.

Wisely, Aide refrained from comment.

Belisarius took a deep breath, controlling his temper. There was no point in trying to force the issue, at the moment. Valentinian and Anastasius were obviously ready and willing to enforce a strict compliance with their vow to Emperor Khusrau. For that matter, all of Belisarius' officers had made clear their own agreement with Khusrau's position. Belisarius had been shocked, actually, when he realized how adamant his commanders were that he stay out of the direct line of fire in the coming battle.

"There's no need for you in the front line, sir," Agathius had argued, at the command meeting on the eve of the battle. "No need-and a lot to be lost if you're killed or injured. This is just going to be a slugging match, at least in the beginning."

On that point, Agathius had been correct.

It was late afternoon, and the battle had been raging for hours. The Malwa had made their first probes at dawn, on both sides of the Euphrates. Encountering the large body of Persians guarding Ormazd's camp on the south bank, the Malwa had early on decided to take a purely defensive stance there. They were obviously more than happy to let Ormazd and his twenty thousand heavy cavalry sit on the sidelines while they concentrated their attack on the Roman forces.

Those Roman forces would have been their princ.i.p.al target, in any event. It was the Romans, not Ormazd's Persians, who were forted up on the dam across the Euphrates. It was the Romans, also, who were positioned to guard the dam from any attack coming up the Nehar Malka.

A slugging match, the first day-with the Romans in position to outslug the Malwa.

The defensive position of Belisarius' army was excellent. With the desert to the west and Ormazd's twenty thousand lancers encamped on the south bank of the Euphrates, the Malwa had no choice but to advance up the riverbed and along the narrow strip of land between the Euphrates and the Nehar Malka. As that strip of land approached the point where the Royal Ca.n.a.l branched directly east from the east-by-southeast-flowing Euphrates, it narrowed down to a mere spit. The tip of that triangle was guarded by well-built Roman fieldworks-complete with timber brought all the way down the Euphrates by barges. b.u.t.tressed with rocks and tamped earth, the walls of that palisade were guarded by Syrian dragoons. When needed, the dragoons were backed up by all of the Constantinople cataphracts, ready to sally at a moment's notice. Which they had, over and again, as the day wore on, waiting until the Syrians had worn out another Malwa a.s.sault before driving them back in defeat.

Nor could the enemy outflank the fieldworks to the east. To do so would require crossing the rapid flow of the Nehar Malka, in the face of another Roman barrier. The giant pile of rocks on the north bank of the Royal Ca.n.a.l which the Kushans had excavated had been turned into an impromptu fortress, anchoring the Roman left flank. More Syrian troops were stationed on that rockpile, under the command of Coutzes, along with the Callinic.u.m garrison. So far, those soldiers had had an easy day. The Malwa had not yet made any attempt to cross the Nehar Malka and attack the dam from the north bank of the Royal Ca.n.a.l. They had concentrated their efforts on the dam itself, especially its eastern anchor, trying to hammer their way to victory.

Yes, on that point, Belisarius could not argue. The first day was a slugging match, nothing else, just as Agathius had predicted. And, it was true, the general would have been able to play no particularly useful role on those front lines.

But Belisarius knew that would not last. The Romans were not facing the normal run of Malwa generals here. He had seen, with his telescope, the arrival of a howdah-bearing elephant with the enemy's army. A small mob of servants had been splashing that howdah with pails of water drawn from the river-a crude but effective way of cooling the howdah's interior.

Link itself was here. He was as certain of it as he was of his own name.

I must get closer, he thought to himself. Soon enough, this simple slugging match of Agathius' is going to start unraveling.

I must be closer.

Suddenly, hearing a change in the distant shouts of the enemy's forces, Belisarius c.o.c.ked his head. The battle was so far away that he found himself forced to rely on his hearing as much as his eyesight.

"We're beating off the attack," he said.

Anastasius and Valentinian copied his stance. Listening with the trained ear of veterans.

"I think you're right," agreed Valentinian.

Anastasius nodded. Then asked: "What's that make? Five a.s.saults?"

"Four," replied Belisarius. "That first one, just after dawn, was more in the way of a reconnaissance. There've only been four ma.s.s charges."

"Crazy b.a.s.t.a.r.ds," sneered Valentinian. "Do they really think they can hammer their way onto that dam-without siege guns? Jesus, that must be a slaughter down there. The onagers and scorpions would be bad enough, backed up by Bouzes and his dragoons. But they've got to face Maurice and the Illyrians, too."

He gave his general an approving glance. "That was a great idea, that road you had the Kushans build."

Belisarius smiled crookedly. "I can't take credit for it, I'm afraid. I stole the idea from Nebuchadrezzar."

Inspired by the design of Babylon's fortifications, Belisarius had ordered a road built just behind the crest of the dam. A stone wall had then been hastily erected on the very crest. The road and the wall were jury-rigged, to be sure. The road was just wide enough and st.u.r.dy enough to allow the Thracian and Illyrian cataphracts to rush to any part of the dam which was under heavy attack. The wall was just thick enough, and just high enough, to shelter them from most missile fire. At the same time, it allowed the mounted archers to shoot their own bows over the wall at the Malwa soldiers trying to slog their way forward.

Combined with the torsion artillery mounted all along the dam, and the dismounted Syrians' archery and grenades, the result had been murderous. Most of the enemy troops had been forced to charge the dam up the riverbed of the Euphrates. Not only did that muddy terrain slow them down, but it also broke up the cohesion of their formations. The Euphrates had not dried up completely. The dam had diverted most of its water into the Nehar Malka, but there was still enough seeping through to produce a network of small streams and pools. Eventually, those streams converged and produced a small river-but not for several miles. Below the dam itself, the riverbed was an attacker's nightmare-mud, reeds, sinkholes, pools, creeks.

As far as possible, the Malwa had concentrated their efforts against the eastern end of the dam. There, the enemy troops could advance along the dry land which had once been the left bank of the Euphrates. But Belisarius had expected that, which was why he'd positioned the Constantinople troops on that end of the dam, backed up by the katyusha rockets. He had spent the night before the battle with Agathius and his men, exhorting them to stand fast. The Greeks, he explained, were the anchor of the entire defensive line. They would take the heaviest blows, but-so long as they held-the enemy could not prevail. When Belisarius finished, they gave him a cheer and vowed to hold the line.

Hold it they had, through four savage a.s.saults. But they had driven back each charge, and added their own heavy charges onto the enemy's butcher bill.

The sounds of battle were fading rapidly now. It was obvious that the Malwa were retreating. Within a minute, Belisarius could see streams of enemy soldiers retreating from the dam. They were bearing large numbers of wounded with them, chased on their way by rocket volleys fired from the katyushas.

Belisarius glanced up at the sky. The sun was beginning to set.

"There'll be a night attack," he predicted. "A ma.s.s a.s.sault all across the line." He pointed to the eastern anchor. "The crunch will come there. Count on it."

"Agathius'll hold them," said Anastasius confidently. "Come what may, Agathius will hold."

Valentinian grunted his agreement.