away and the Boar was a man who had no time for idleness.
When the mantle of King of Kings had settled upon him, Shahr-Baraz had determined he would spend his reign—be it long or short—in the field, moving, under an open sky. Let these courtiers and ministers attend him! He would not mew himself up in some stifling palace. At one time he had known the name and face of every soldier, groom and ostler in his army. Such familiarity was impossible now, with the host of the King of Kings grown vast beyond counting, and there were the Serpent's allies and pawns to consider as well. Anger welled for a moment, but Shahr-Baraz admitted, at least to himself, the massive triple walls of Constantinople would not have been easily breached, save by the sorcerer's power.
"Does his work leave a foul taste in your mouth, as it does in mine?" Khadames asked softly, looking at his king out of the corner of his eye. "Was it worth it, to pay such a price for victory?"
"We have what we wanted," Shahr-Baraz sighed, rubbing his long face with muscular fingers. "That is what matters. We have broken the Eastern Empire and reclaimed all that Chrosoes had lost..."
Khadames smiled faintly. "And now? What now, oh great king who bestrides the world? O modern Xerxes?"
The Boar made a face at the mocking tone in the general's voice and turned to face Khadames. "We part ways, my friend. This victory must be secured with another—we now hold the Levantine coast from Gazzah to Antioch. Our army here in Constantinople is isolated from the rest of Great Persia by the breadth of Anatolia—provinces still nominally held by Rome—and supplied only by sea. Thanks to the strength of our Arab allies, we enjoy a fleet and the ability to move freely along the Asian coast. The Roman fleet is scattered or captured."
"But this good fortune cannot last," Khadames said, nodding in thought. "Soon they will press us again—with fresh ships from the West—and this ruin will be a trap, if we cannot leave and cannot feed ourselves!"
"Yes." Shahr-Baraz stabbed out his hands, miming the thrust of a blade. "The line of attack has changed, shifted south. To our west, Greece is still recovering from the Avar invasions, to the east, the Anatolian themes are little more than bickering princedoms. With this stroke, the Eastern Empire has been set at naught, but the West—ah, now—the West still has strength. Our seizure of Constantinople, of the Propontis, is a mighty blow. Roman trade and messengers cannot reach their allies in Khazaria, and we stand poised to drive—aided by our Avar friends—into Thrace and Greece. Yet the West still holds a dagger pressed hard against the Levantine coast."
Against our strong arm, he growled to himself, all exposed, extended in the blow...
"Egypt." Khadames said. "Where—if the lord Khalid's spies can be believed—there are no less than six Western Legions encamped, under the command of Prince Aurelian."
"Even so." Shahr-Baraz nodded, a clenched fist against his jaw. "Consider this, Khadames..." The King of Kings sketched a swift diagram of the Mare Internum in the dust on the walkway. The eastern end of the middle sea made a fat U-shape running left-to-right, joined by a second U on the upper arm. At the crown of the second U, he placed a fat black olive. "Here we stand, at Constantinople, looking down upon the Mare Aegeum." He placed two more of the ripe fruits—one opposite the first, at the bottom of the first U—"and here is Egypt, and here Antioch." He placed the third in the upper depths of the first U, making a triangle of the three. "All our supply must either come, swiftly, by sea from Antioch, or slowly over two great mountain ranges and the interior plains of Anatolia. Our army, in turn, may sail back to Antioch in a month, perhaps two, while marching overland will take at least six. In the same time, the Western Legions in Egypt may strike north..." His blunt finger moved up the curve of the first U, towards
When the mantle of King of Kings had settled upon him, Shahr-Baraz had determined he would spend his reign—be it long or short—in the field, moving, under an open sky. Let these courtiers and ministers attend him! He would not mew himself up in some stifling palace. At one time he had known the name and face of every soldier, groom and ostler in his army. Such familiarity was impossible now, with the host of the King of Kings grown vast beyond counting, and there were the Serpent's allies and pawns to consider as well. Anger welled for a moment, but Shahr-Baraz admitted, at least to himself, the massive triple walls of Constantinople would not have been easily breached, save by the sorcerer's power.
"Does his work leave a foul taste in your mouth, as it does in mine?" Khadames asked softly, looking at his king out of the corner of his eye. "Was it worth it, to pay such a price for victory?"
"We have what we wanted," Shahr-Baraz sighed, rubbing his long face with muscular fingers. "That is what matters. We have broken the Eastern Empire and reclaimed all that Chrosoes had lost..."
Khadames smiled faintly. "And now? What now, oh great king who bestrides the world? O modern Xerxes?"
The Boar made a face at the mocking tone in the general's voice and turned to face Khadames. "We part ways, my friend. This victory must be secured with another—we now hold the Levantine coast from Gazzah to Antioch. Our army here in Constantinople is isolated from the rest of Great Persia by the breadth of Anatolia—provinces still nominally held by Rome—and supplied only by sea. Thanks to the strength of our Arab allies, we enjoy a fleet and the ability to move freely along the Asian coast. The Roman fleet is scattered or captured."
"But this good fortune cannot last," Khadames said, nodding in thought. "Soon they will press us again—with fresh ships from the West—and this ruin will be a trap, if we cannot leave and cannot feed ourselves!"
"Yes." Shahr-Baraz stabbed out his hands, miming the thrust of a blade. "The line of attack has changed, shifted south. To our west, Greece is still recovering from the Avar invasions, to the east, the Anatolian themes are little more than bickering princedoms. With this stroke, the Eastern Empire has been set at naught, but the West—ah, now—the West still has strength. Our seizure of Constantinople, of the Propontis, is a mighty blow. Roman trade and messengers cannot reach their allies in Khazaria, and we stand poised to drive—aided by our Avar friends—into Thrace and Greece. Yet the West still holds a dagger pressed hard against the Levantine coast."
Against our strong arm, he growled to himself, all exposed, extended in the blow...
"Egypt." Khadames said. "Where—if the lord Khalid's spies can be believed—there are no less than six Western Legions encamped, under the command of Prince Aurelian."
"Even so." Shahr-Baraz nodded, a clenched fist against his jaw. "Consider this, Khadames..." The King of Kings sketched a swift diagram of the Mare Internum in the dust on the walkway. The eastern end of the middle sea made a fat U-shape running left-to-right, joined by a second U on the upper arm. At the crown of the second U, he placed a fat black olive. "Here we stand, at Constantinople, looking down upon the Mare Aegeum." He placed two more of the ripe fruits—one opposite the first, at the bottom of the first U—"and here is Egypt, and here Antioch." He placed the third in the upper depths of the first U, making a triangle of the three. "All our supply must either come, swiftly, by sea from Antioch, or slowly over two great mountain ranges and the interior plains of Anatolia. Our army, in turn, may sail back to Antioch in a month, perhaps two, while marching overland will take at least six. In the same time, the Western Legions in Egypt may strike north..." His blunt finger moved up the curve of the first U, towards
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