NEVER MIND STOP STUPID QUESTION STOP BE WELL STOP LOVE YOU STOP
The warmth that last message gave him dissipated soon enough. The negotiations with Khusrau were neither brief nor cordial.
Eventually, Belisarius broke it off altogether. "I haven't got time for this nonsense," he snarled. "Tell him an assault just started and I have to leave. Damodara's terms are important and need a quick answer. This is just mindless Aryan pig-headed greed."
As the telegraph operator did as instructed, Belisarius stalked over to the radio. "I can't believe it. Khusrau's not usually that stupid. Wasting time with endless quibbles over a few square miles of the Punjab, for God's sake!"
Maurice was running fingers through his beard, as he often did when thinking. "I'm not sure that's it," he said slowly. "Menander told me almost all the Persian grandees are assembled in Sukkur now. Sahrdarans and vurzurgans crawling all over the place. Members of all seven great families except the Suren. Baresmanas stayed behind to more or less run the empire for Khusrau, but he's about the only one."
Still too irritated to think clearly, Belisarius shook his head. "What's the point, Maurice?"
"The point is that he's playing to an audience. You know the great houses aren't happy at all with the way he's using small dehgans as imperial officials to administer the Sind. Menander says they're howling like banshees, insisting that they deserve a big share of the Punjab."
Belisarius rolled his eyes. "Just what's needed! A herd of idiot feudal magnates pouring into…"
His eyes came down, squinting at Maurice. "Jesus," he hissed. "Could he be that ruthless?"
Sure he could, said Aide. It'd be one quick way to break feudalism in Persia. Lead the magnates into a slaughter. No feudalists, no feudalism.
"Maybe," said Maurice. He gestured with his thumb toward the radio. "But why don't you let me worry about that, if need be? You've got Damodara to deal with."
"So I do." He looked around. "Calopodius, are you ready?"
The young signals officer hurried up. "Yes, General. Sorry. I just wanted to make sure the scribes were set."
The smile he gave Belisarius was half apology and half sheer anticipation.
"Sorry," he repeated. "I've got the soul of an historian. And this is… history."
Belisarius chuckled. "Not yet. But let's see if we can't make it so. The first message is-"