Ajatasutra shook his head. "Can't. I have duties elsewhere." Then, seeing the sisters' apprehension turn to outright fear, Ajatasutra chuckled dryly. "Your new owner is reputed to be quite a nice lady."
His slight emphasis on the last word seemed to relieve their tension a bit. But only for a moment. Now, the sisters were staring past his figure, at the dimly seen shapes of the soldiers gearing up for travel.
Ajatasutra chuckled again. "There'll be no problem on the trip, other than days of heat and dust. I will leave clear instructions."
The stiffness in the sisters' posture eased. The older cleared her throat. "Will we see you again?"
Ajatasutra tossed his head in an abrupt, almost minute gesture. "Who knows? The world's a fickle place, and God is prone to whimsy."
He dropped the tent flap and turned away. In the minutes which followed, he simply stood in place at the center of the grove, watching the soldiers make their preparations. The Ye-tai were ready within minutes, their horses soon thereafter. What little delay occurred came from the two Bihari mercenaries and the small elephant in their care. Both men were experienced in the work. They would alternate as mahout and guard riding in the howdah.
But Ajatasutra's attention was not on the Biharis. He was not concerned about them. His careful study was given, first, to the howdah itself. Then, when he was satisfied that his instructions had been followed-the cloths serving as the howdah's curtains were cheap and utilitarian, but did an adequate job of shielding the occupants from external view-he turned his scrutiny upon the Ye-tai who would serve as the howdah's escort.
As was usually the case with Ye-tai, the semi-barbarians were big men. Big, and obviously fit. They were standing just a few feet away, their mounts not far behind them. If the heavy armor and weapons draped upon their muscular bodies caused them any discomfort, there was no sign of it.
Ajatasutra drifted toward them. At that moment, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tent flap move aside. The sisters emerged and began walking slowly and timidly toward the elephant, the older one still clutching her infant. Ajatasutra had long since provided the sisters with more modest saris than the costumes they had worn as prostitutes. But, even in the poor lighting provided by the dying campfires, their young and lithesome figures were quite evident.
The eyes of the Ye-tai followed their progress, as did Ajatasutra's.
"Pretty little bitches, aren't they?" he mused. His voice, as usual, carried an undertone of whimsy and humor.
The Ye-tai in the center, the leader of the little group, grunted. "That they are. The older one's a bit off-putting, what with that scar on her face, but the young-"
His next grunt was not soft at all. More like an explosive breath-a man kicked by a mule. But the eruption ended almost as soon as it began. As the Ye-tai's head came down, Ajatasutra's dagger plunged into his eye. Halfway to the hilt, before a quick and practiced twist removed the blade before it could become jammed in the skull.
As the Ye-tai slumped to the ground, Ajatasutra stepped aside.
"Wrong answer," he said mildly. His eyes were on the three survivors.
For perhaps two seconds, the Ye-tai seemed frozen in place. The youngest and least experienced of them began moving his hand toward his sword, but one of his companions slapped the hand away.
"Uglier than sin, the both of them," the man rasped. "Rather fuck a crocodile, myself."
Ajatasutra's lips might have quirked a bit. It was difficult to tell, in the darkness. The same darkness, perhaps, explained the ghostly ease with which he now crowded the three mercenaries.
"I can find you anywhere in India," he murmured. "Anywhere in the world. Don't doubt it for a moment."
"A crocodile," husked the young Ye-tai.
Now, even in the darkness, Ajatasutra's smile was plain to see. "Splendid," he said agreeably. His hand-his left hand-dipped into his cloak and emerged holding a small pouch.
"A bonus," he explained. Then, nodding to the corpse: "For seeing to the quiet disposal of the body."
Feeling the weight of the pouch, the newly-promoted mercenary leader grinned. "Crocodile food. River's full of them."
"See to it." Ajatasutra gave a last glance at the elephant. The younger sister was already in the howdah and the older was handing up the baby. A moment later, the two mahouts were assisting her aboard the great creature.
The Ye-tai began to watch the procedure. Then, struck by a very recent memory, tore their eyes away and moved them back to their master.
But he was gone. Vanished into the night, like a demon from the ancient fables.
* * *
That very moment, in the far-distant Malwa capital of Kausambi, a demon from the fabled future came to its decision.
"No choice," it pronounced. "The Kushans grow more unreliable by the day. And the Ye-tai are not enough to bolster the regime. We must weld the Rajputs to our side."
The Emperor of Malwa made a last, feeble attempt to safeguard the exclusivity of his dynasty. "They are bound to us by solemn oaths as it is. You know how maniacally the Rajputs hold their honor. Surely-"
"That is not enough. Not with Belisarius coming. The pressure will become intense. Not even Rajput honor can be relied upon to withstand those hammer blows. They must also be welded by ties of blood. Dynastic ties."
Skandagupta's corpulent little body began to swell like a toad. His mouth opened, ready to utter a final protest. But the sharp glance of Nanda Lal held him silent. That, and the frozen immobility of the four Khmer assassins standing against the nearby wall of the royal chamber. The assassins were all members of Link's special cult, as were the six enormous tulwar-bearing slaves kneeling against the opposite wall. The emperor had seen those knives and tulwars flash before, more than once. They would not hesitate for an instant to spill the life of Malwa's own ruler.
Ruler, in name only. The true power behind Malwa's throne resided in the body of the young woman who sat in the chair next to him. Lady Sati, she was called, one of Skandagupta's first cousins. But the name was as much of a shell as the body itself. Within that comely female form lurked the being called Link, the emissary and satrap of the new gods who were reshaping humanity into their own mold.
"It will be done," decreed the thing from the future. The slender hands draped loosely over the carved armrests made a slight gesture, as if to indicate the body within which Link dwelled. "This sheath is perfectly functional. Much healthier than average. It will serve Rana Sanga as wife and mother of his children. The dynasty will then be Rajput as well as Malwa. The swords and lances of Rajputana will be welded to us with iron bars. Ties of blood."
Nanda Lal cleared his throat. "There is the matter of Sanga's existing wife. And his three existing children."
The thing inside Lady Sati swiveled her head. "A detail. By all accounts, his wife is plain and plump." Again, the shapely hands made that little gesture. "This form is beautiful, as men count such things. And, as I said, perfectly functional. Rajputana's King will have new children soon enough. He will be reconciled to the loss."
The Malwa spymaster hesitated. This was dangerous ground. "Yes, of course. But my spies report that Sanga dotes on his family. He will still be upset-suspicious, even-if-"
"By Roman hands. See to it, spymaster. Use Narses. He will know how to manage the thing in such a way as to divert suspicion onto the enemy. Sanga will blame Belisarius for the murder of his family."
Very dangerous ground. But, whatever else he was, Nanda Lal was no coward. And, in his own cold way, as devoted to the Malwa purpose as any man alive.