Eric Flint - An Oblique Approach

"Enough," commanded Belisarius. "Actually, I agree with Eon. At least, I will admit the justice of his charge. I have been somewhat hypocritical."

Anastasius chuckled. "I do believe that's the first time I've heard fidelity characterized as hypocrisy."

A little laugh swept the room. Even Eon, after a moment, joined in.

Valentinian cleared his throat.

"As it happens, General, I think there's a simple solution to the problem. Been thinking about it, myself, I have, and—"

"Capital idea!" exclaimed Ousanas.

"Splendid," agreed Anastasius. "My own thoughts have been veering that way themselves, oddly enough."

"So?" asked Ezana. The sarwen's face registered dumbfounded astonishment, a wild surmise come from nowhere.

Ezana and Wahsi exchanged gapes of wonder.

Wahsi spoke first: "Truly amazing. Can you believe, Ezana and I—and Ousanas—have been grappling with the very same—"

"The perfect solution!" cried Ezana.

Garmat was frowning with puzzlement. Belisarius started laughing.

"What are they talking about?" demanded the adviser.

Belisarius managed to stop laughing long enough to ask Valentinian:

"I assume the parties involved have—uh, how shall I put it—" (here he choked) "—found their own thoughts veering , or perhaps I should say—" (laughter) "—have been grappling with the—" (Here he fell silent altogether, holding his sides.)

Valentinian stared up at the ceiling.

"Well, actually, I believe one of the girls did mention—"

"They're really quite tired of Bharakuccha," added Menander eagerly.

"Sick to death of the place," rumbled Anastasius. "Eager for new experiences. New sights."

Ezana pitched in: "The Maratha girls are even more anxious to depart this pesthole."

"Horrible city," growled Wahsi. "Horrible."

Garmat was now glaring at Ousanas. "You put them up to this," he accused. "I know it was you."

"Me? Me? How can you say such a thing? I am my prince's dawazz! My thoughts are only of his welfare! I am a miserable slave. How could such a wretched creature possibly cajole fierce cataphracts and murderous sarwen into such a scheme?"

The grin erupted. "Brilliant scheme, mind you. Solve all problems at one swoop. Keep know-too-much girls—charming, lovely know-too-much girls—out of clutches of Malwa interrogators. Keep loyal but downhearted troops cheerful and content, so far from their native lands."

Belisarius managed to find his voice again. "I agree." He waved his hand. "Be off. See to it."

He smiled at Garmat. "They're right, you know. What else are we going to do? Slit the girls' throats?"

Valentinian and Anastasius were already at the door, with Ezana and Wahsi close on their heels.

"One moment!" spoke Belisarius. The men turned back.

Belisarius motioned to his purse. "Take some money. The pimps aren't going to like this idea. You'll have to pay them off."

Anastasius frowned. "Pimps," he mused. "I hadn't thought about that."

He looked to Valentinian. "Violent characters, your pimps."

Valentinian shuddered. "I shudder to think of it." He shuddered again. "See?"

"I have heard of these pimps," said Ezana, his face a mask of fear. "Brutal creatures, it is said."

"Cruel goblins," groaned Wahsi. "I may foul myself upon meeting them."

"We'll just have to do our best," whined Valentinian. He advanced to the purse and extracted a single small coin.

"This should do. Ah, no—I forget. We have two sets of pimps to deal with." He extracted another small coin. "More than sufficient, I should think." He cast a questioning glance at Anastasius.

"Quite sufficient," rumbled the giant. "I'll do the bargaining. I'm half-Greek, you know."

Ousanas lazed his way forward.

"I believe I shall accompany you. Perhaps these pimp fellows will wish to discuss philosophy."

"So they might!" exclaimed Anastasius. "Aristotle, perhaps?"

Ousanas shook his head. "I was thinking more along the lines of Stoicism."

Anastasius nodded happily. "The very thing! Calm acceptance of life's unexpected turns. Serenity—"

Valentinian and the two sarwen hastened through the door.

"—in the face of sudden misfortune."

Anastasius followed, with Ousanas at his heels.

"Disdain for material things," said the dawazz, as he closed the door.

Through the door, faintly heard, Anastasius:

"Pleasure in spiritual contemplation."

* * *

Two days later, a courier from Venandakatra arrived at the hostel, informing the Romans and Axumites that the Malwa lord's expedition to the north would be departing the next day. Belisarius and his party—his now much enlarged party—made their preparations to leave.

On the morning of their departure, there was a slight unpleasantness. A Rajput officer accosted them as they were leaving the hostel. He was accompanied by a platoon of Rajput soldiers, who, he explained, served the city of Bharakuccha as its police force.

Suspicions had been cast, accusations made, complaints lodged. Two well-known and respected brothel-keepers had been subjected to outrageous extortion by uncouth foreigners. Employees of the establishments had even been manhandled by these barbarous men. Horribly abused. Crippled, in the case of five; maimed and mutilated, in the case of four; slain outright, in the case of two.

Belisarius expressed his distress at the news. Distress, but not shock. Certainly not surprise. Such horrendous crimes, after all, were only to be expected in Bharakuccha. A terrible city! Full of desperadoes! Why—he himself had been assaulted in the streets by a band of robbers, the very day of his arrival. Had been forced to slay several in self-defense, in fact.

After hearing the general's description of the affair, the Rajput officer expressed pleasure at this unexpected resolution to a hitherto unsolved mystery. A mass murder, it had seemed at the time. Five notorious and much-feared dacoits, long-sought by the Rajput soldiery for innumerable misdeeds. Slaughtered like lambs. Butchered like pigs.

The Rajput officer subjected Belisarius and his party to severe and careful scrutiny. Whereupon he pronounced that the suspicions were clearly unfounded, the accusations baseless, the complaints mislodged. A terrible city, Bharakuccha, it could not be denied. Full of unknown, mysterious, criminally inclined foreigners. Who, alas, all tended to look alike in Indian eyes.

But upon close examination, the Rajput officer deliberated, there seemed no reasonable resemblance between the slavering fiends depicted by the brothel keepers and these fine, well-disciplined, upstanding outlanders. No doubt the whoremasters were misinformed, their discernment shaken by great and sudden financial loss. No doubt the procurers in their employ were likewise confused, their wits addled by the traumatic experience.

Most traumatic experience, mused the officer, judging from the evidence: the deep stab wounds, the great gashes, the immense loss of blood, the shattered knees, broken wrists, severed thumbs, splintered ribs, flattened noses, gouged eyes, amputated ears, broken skulls, ruptured kidneys, maimed elbows, mangled feet, pulverized hipbones, crushed testicles. Not to mention the broken neck of one dead pimp, snapped like a twig by some sort of gigantic ogre.

No doubt, concluded the officer. In that cold, arrogant, haughty manner which so distinguishes Rajputana's kshatriya.

Back | Next

Contents

Framed

Back | Next

Contents

Chapter 20

DARAS

Autumn, 529 AD

Sittas and Maurice sat on their horses, watching Sittas' cataphracts on the training field. The look on Sittas' face was one of smug satisfaction. That on Maurice's was inscrutable.