"David Drake - Belisarius 3 - Destiny's Shield" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drake David)

through the Ethiopians."
"I can't say I'm happy about that, by the way," grumbled Justinian. "I didn't
oppose the idea at the council, since you seemed so set upon it. But --
Irene's a fiendishly capable spymaster. I'd be a lot happier if she were here
at Theodora's side in the capital, keeping an eye on traitors."
Skeptically:
"Do you really think this little rebellion you took so much time -- and money
-- to foster is anything but wishful thinking?"
Belisarius studied the blind man for a moment, before replying. Justinian, for
all his brilliance, was ill-equipped by temperament to gauge the power of a
popular rebellion. The man thought like an emperor, still. Belisarius
suspected that he always had, even when he was a peasant himself.
"I know the girl, Justinian. You don't. For all her youth, she has the
potential to be a great ruler. And in Rao she has one of the finest generals
in India."
"So?" grunted Justinian. "If the success of your rebellion hinges so
completely on two people, the Malwa can take care of that with a couple of
assassinations."
Belisarius laughed.
"Assassinate Rao? He's the best assassin in India himself! God help the Malwa
who tries to slip a knife into that man's back!" He shook his head. "As for
Shakuntala -- she's quite a proficient killer in her own right. Rao trained
her, from the time she was seven. And she has the best bodyguards in the
world. An elite Kushan unit, led by a man named Kungas."
The skepticism was still evident on the former emperor's face. Belisarius,
watching, decided it was hopeless to shake Justinian's attitude.
He was not there, as I was -- to see Shakuntala win the allegiance of the very
Kushans who had been assigned by Malwa to be her captors. God, the sheer force
in that girl's soul!
He turned away. Then, struck by a memory, turned back.
"Aide did give me a vision, once, while I was in India. That vision confirmed
me in my determination to set Shakuntala free."
Justinian cocked his head, listening.
"Many centuries from now, in the future -- in a future, it might be better to
say -- all of Europe will be under the domination of one of history's greatest
generals and conquerors. His name will be Napoleon. He will be defeated, in
the end, brought down by his own overweening ambition. That defeat will be
caused, as much as anything, by a great bleeding wound in Spain. He will
conquer Spain, but never rule it. For years, his soldiers will die fighting
the Spanish rebellion. The rebels will be aided by a nation which will arise
on the island we call Britannia. The Peninsular War, those islanders will call
it. And when Napoleon is finally brought down, they will look back upon that
war and see in it one of the chief sources of their victory."
Still nothing. Skepticism.
Belisarius shrugged. Left.

Outside, in the corridor, Aide spoke in his mind.
Not a nice man, at all.
The facets flashed and spun into a new configuration. Like a kaleidoscope, the
colors of Aide's emotion shifted. Sour distaste was replaced by a kind of wry