Reluctantly the aide took the reins and nudged his horse away from the thicket that Sanat Ji Mani was exploring. "I will summon you if there is need."
"Very good," said Sanat Ji Mani, glad to be in a place that would protect him as much as anything other than his native earth could. He dropped to his knees and ducked into the heart of the vines and leaves, going cautiously in order not to disturb anything that might have taken shelter there. Finally he matted down a few small branches
and lay back on them, his whole body aching for rest, his soul longing for sleep. For a long moment the image of Tulsi hung in his mind, and he yearned to speak to her, to know she was safe. He questioned himself again on his decision to travel with the Rajput, for he still was not certain she was not in danger on his account, and that troubled him; how was he to protect her while he was not with her? How could he defend her now that they were separated? What could he do to guard her? He tried, as he had tried for the five days the army had been on the march, to think of some means of securing her freedom and safety, but nothing occurred to him and he was left to fret over what he could not change. Then his enervation caught up with him; he closed his eyes and succumbed to the stupor that was the slumber of his kind.
Shouts and drum-beats woke him as the sun dropped low in the west. Whoops and screams mixed on the air as the Rajput's army claimed the last remains of the town as their tattered prize; Sanat Ji Mani emerged, limping, from the thicket where he had rested to find the aide waiting for him, holding the reins of his horse and grinning eagerly. "What is it?" Sanat Ji Mani asked.
"They are branding the captives, so they will be known as slaves forever," said the aide. "Many men were captured, and many women. Also children, some too young for branding."
"I am certain the Rajput is pleased," said Sanat Ji Mani, his body refreshed but his spirits wearier than before.
"The Rajput will take the slaves back to Devapur and decide which he will keep and which will be taken to the coast and sold to the Arabs." The aide grinned. "This will be a most fortuitous expedition. The army has fought and there are slaves gained from it, and the rule of the land."
"A great achievement," said Sanat Ji Mani drily as he mounted the dun mare he had chosen from the Rajput's stables.
"You will see for yourself. The Rajput has ordered me to bring you to him." The aide nodded in the direction of the hill. "We must make haste or the light will be gone."
"I am sure there is fire enough in the town to guide us," said Sanat Ji Mani, making no effort to disguise his distaste. He pulled the mare's head around and started toward the slope leading down to the village.
"The Rajput has had a feast prepared for his men. All the goats and all the sheep in the town have been slaughtered and set to cook over fires." The aide was full of anticipation.
"Have they." Sanat Ji Mani knew that this boded ill for the night. "Have the soldiers been given anything other than water to drink?"
The aide laughed aloud. "You are a most perspicacious fellow, foreigner. Yes, there was honey-beer found— barrels of it. The Rajput said it was to be given out to his men, first to those who fought, and then to the rest of his army." He put one hand to his chest. "I am to have mine when I bring you to the town and present you to the Rajput."
"I am sure you are looking forward to it," said Sanat Ji Mani, his sincerity masking apprehension.
"Of course." The aide led Sanat Ji Mani to the broad swath of trampled vegetation when Hasin Dahele's army had descended the hill. "We have lost thirteen men and nine horses. There are fifty-three wounded and injured that I know of, but there are probably a few more. The man you said had broken his leg is one of the worst hurt, although there is another man who was struck in the eye and one who fell into a fire, but most have nothing more than cuts and bruises," he babbled excitedly. "There was a camp of Untouchables on the edge of the fields, and we drove them away."
"Untouchables," said Sanat Ji Mani, thinking of those unfortunate enough to be born into the under-caste, who were considered contaminated by the rest of the people; war would be hardest on them, who were already condemned.
"They will not be allowed to foul our victory," the aide boasted.
"How could they, indeed," Sanat Ji Mani said, drawing his horse in to look at the town: the order of the morning was gone and in its place was devastation, where the army was setting up a camp for the night as if to set the seal on what they had done; fields were uprooted and trampled, the walls of the town had been pushed down on the south-eastern side and the houses around that portion of wall were tumbled into heaps, two of them blackened where they had caught fire. At the center of the town, where the market had been, there was now a collection of tents, the Rajput's being the grandest. Huge cooking fires burned throughout the town, and soldiers were gathered
around them. Outside the walls in a hastily improvised stockade the townspeople huddled together while a group of aides went among them, gathering information and recording what they learned on palm-leaves.
"Done in less than a day," said the aide proudly.
"The Rajput must be pleased," said Sanat Ji Mani, and put his mare in motion down the hill.
"The soldiers are saying that they will conquer all the way to the mountains at the Roof of the World," the aide went on. "They say that this has shown them how mighty they are."
"To defeat a town of less than half their number is an accomplishment," said Sanat Ji Mani flatly.
The aide mistook his intent. "Oh, yes. We did not need more than a third of the army to do it. In time to come, more will fight, but for now, it is proof that the Gods are with Hasin Dahele. By the time the rains come, his rule will extend far and wide and his army will be feared from mountains of the Afghani to China, and south to the ends of our lands."
Sanat Ji Mani cut into this rhapsodizing. "The Rajput wants to exceed the conquests of Timur-i— he has said so. This is his beginning."
"Just so," said the aide, stopping his tongue at last.
The sounds of celebration were drifting upward, filling the night. Around one of the huge spits men were dancing, singing a song in praise of Ganesh, Shiva, and Kali, while cooks cut off slabs of sheep and goat for them. Other fires had musicians gathered near them to play while the men ate and drank. The odor of sizzling meat was almost strong enough to conceal the metallic scent of blood and the stench of fear that lingered from the battle.
The aide led the way to Hasin Dahele's tent, dismounted, and held the reins of Sanat Ji Mani's dun mare. "He is waiting for you, the Rajput, and his poet." This last was an afterthought, and one with which the aide was not wholly comfortable.
Sanat Ji Mani dismounted, alighting gingerly on his sore foot. "You have done your duty." He bowed slightly to the aide, startling him, and then went into the Rajput's tent.
"Ah! There you are! At last!" shouted Hasin Dahele as Sanat Ji Mani paused just inside the tent-flap; he was seated on a carved-and-
inlaid chair of fine wood, flanked by braziers and protected by two Guards. His silken garments were torn and dirty and his hair was in disorder, but he beamed at Sanat Ji Mani. "Come in!"
"I hear you have sustained light losses," said Sanat Ji Mani without any formality.
"Light enough," said Hasin Dahele. He was drinking honey beer from a metal bowl. "This is very good. I will have them bring you some."
"Thank you, no." Sanat Ji Mani noticed Vayu Ede sitting on a stool off to the side. "How do you like the fruits of victory?"
"I like them very well," said the Rajput, as if the question had been directed to him.
"And you, Vayu Ede?" Sanat Ji Mani asked.
"It is the first step toward what the Gods have promised," he said, but in a subdued tone.
"Your gods offer strange gifts, do they not." Sanat Ji Mani came a few steps farther into the tent. "This one was easy, O Rajput. Be content with it."
"I will, I will," said Hasin Dahele. "For now. We will camp here tomorrow and the next day we will return to Devapur to show my people how we have succeeded. I will then prepare for a true campaign, and you will see that your woman has come to no harm." He wagged a finger at Sanat Ji Mani. "I know you think of her. I want you to be satisfied that she will come to no harm in my palace." He chuckled. "Then you can concentrate on advising me. And no more of this notion of accepting a surrender instead of showing force of arms."
"Why do you want my advice? you do not take it," said Sanat Ji Mani, hoping to be able to reach the Rajput while he was inclined to listen. "Why not leave me in Devapur when you go on campaign again?"
Hasin Dahele laughed merrily. "As if you do not know why." He sat back on his chair and grinned. "You must see what I do to know I am worthy." He stopped smiling and shouted, "Slave! Bring me meat and bread! I am hungry."
Vayu Ede got up from his stool. "You will be able to tell us how we have done," he said to Sanat Ji Mani. "The Gods demand it."
So it comes back to the gods, Sanat Ji Mani thought, and only said, "I am a liability on campaign. I need to stay out of the sun, which is inconvenient."
"But you know war," said Hasin Dahele. "You cannot deny it."
"Oh, yes," Sanat Ji Mani said bleakly. "I know war."
"And you have led men in battle." He drank the last of his honey beer.
"Not recently," Sanat Ji Mani said, thinking back to his homeland when the Goths had come through on their way to Rome. That was the last time he had fought offensively, and it had left him filled with revulsion; Heliogabalus had ruled in Rome then, and had been incapable of mounting any defenses at the edge of the Empire, so it had fallen to the governors and garrisons to stem the tide: he had never again wanted to initiate a battle.
"But you know how, that is what matters," said Hasin Dahele, swinging around in his chair as two slaves came in bearing a brass platter piled high with goat and mutton, with half-a-dozen broiled fowl around the edges. A third slave followed with a large, flat basket filled with wide, soft breads shining with ghee. "Set it down, set it down," he ordered, gesturing to a place on the floor of the tent. "And bring cushions for me and my guests. And more honey beer." The slaves did as they were ordered, bowed and withdrew. "You know, you were right, Sanat Ji Mani," he went on genially as he left his chair and sauntered toward the tray with its steaming bounty. "You said I would need more slaves than I had planned to bring. You were right, and I was wise to listen to you. So you see, I do heed you."
"What can I be but honored?" Sanat Ji Mani said, putting his hands together and bowing.
"And you will help me with what must be done to conquer, and not just in the matter of bringing slaves along— incidentally, we have a great many more to take back with us, and I suppose they will slow us down— but in everything having to do with war." The Rajput stood uneasily, waiting for someone to bring his cushions. "How long must I wait?" he asked testily as the time dragged on.
One of the Guards set his lance aside and hurried to bring the cushions the Rajput had demanded. "If these are insufficient, O Exalted One, you have only to ask for more." He put the cushions down
next to the platter. "I will try to discover where the honey beer is."
"Have some yourself," said Hasin Dahele magnanimously. "It is very good."
"When you have eaten and dismissed me, I will," said the Guard with a quick but hungry glance at the piles of food.
"You are very loyal," said the Rajput, dropping to his knees on the cushion. "He is loyal, do you not agree, Sanat Ji Mani?"
Knowing what the Rajput wanted to hear, Sanat Ji Mani said, "He is."
"And you know the importance of loyalty, Sanat Ji Mani," said Hasin Dahele, and roared with more laughter as he beckoned to Vayu Ede to join him.
Sanat Ji Mani remained where he stood, watching while the Rajput began to wolf down his food, using the bread to hold the meat. He was well-aware that Hasin Dahele was drunk, but whether on honey beer or triumph, Sanat Ji Mani could not tell.
* * *
Text of a letter from the Chinese pilgrim and spy, Lum, to the prefecture of the armies, currently in Hsi-an.
* * *
To the most honorable and esteemed Prefect of the Armies, admirable servant of the Wielder of the Vermillion Brush, this report from the city of Sindabur on the Arabian Sea, submitted most humbly to you for your assessment and evaluation.
The disruption this traveler has seen during the past year continues, but not with the same chaotic energy as before. Many people are still displaced and even as far south as this person has come, there have been others fleeing from the ruins of Delhi and the continuing fighting between the two men claiming the title of Sultan of Delhi, one of whom serves Timur-i and one of whom is the bin Tughluq. This person has not yet discovered which of them is the most supported by the Rajputs, as the regional Princes are known. If there is support given to either claimant to the Sultan's title, the power may shift quickly and with dramatic results. This is a happenstance that this person cannot anticipate or predict, there being too many possibilities to know which is the most likely. Whatever the result may be, it is clear to this person that there will be more fighting; until someone can take and hold the
