Текст книги "The Divining"
Автор книги: Barbara Wood
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 27 страниц)
32
THIS IS DANGEROUS BUSINESS, MASTER," Timonides said as they scanned the busy marketplace for Bold Dragon. As he spoke, Timonides kept an eye on Nestor, who still had to be reminded at age thirty-five that goods offered in merchants' stalls were not there simply for the taking. "The emperor has eyes and ears everywhere. Ming knows we want to leave and that we will be searching for any possible avenue of escape."
"And if we don't find that avenue, my friend," Sebastianus replied as he watched the Gate of Heavenly Harmony for Primo and Bold Dragon, "we will truly be here for the rest of our lives." After nine months of enjoying the emperor's hospitality, generous and lavish though it was, Sebastianus was anxious to be heading home. But Ming seemed determined to keep the westerners prisoner.
Timonides was also eager to start for home. While he found this exotic land and culture forever delightful and challenging, and he did not truly mind being a "permanent guest," he was worried about his son.
As he kept an eye on Nestor's progress among the merchant stalls, Timonides saw three women stumbling about the marketplace, their sad cries for food and mercy making his stomach churn. They were yoked together at the neck, their three heads rising from a wooden plank upon which their crimes had been listed. He could not read Chinese, but imagined they had either disobeyed their husbands or spread malicious gossip about their neighbors. Women's crimes were not as vicious as men's, but the punishments were brutal nonetheless.
He turned away and once again his eyes went to Nestor, who was watching a pair of jugglers. Timonides was worried because his son had been acting strangely of late, exhibiting an anxiety and anxiousness uncharacteristic of the otherwise placid and contented Nestor. He was acting almost as if he knew they were being held prisoner in this city. Timonides understood his son's simple mind, that he had no true concept of time and distance. To Nestor, the city of Antioch lay just on the other side of the Mang Mountains, and they had left only yesterday. Thus, the years and miles that would make a sound-minded man grow anxious about going home would not normally trouble Nestor.
So what was causing this strange new anxiousness?
And where was Bold Dragon, the man whom they were trusting to help them escape?
Sebastianus and his companions had not been allowed outside Luoyang since the day of their arrival. It was a show of power, of course. The emperor had proudly captured the Roman Caesar's ambassador in the same way soldiers on a battlefield capture the enemy's flags. Ming would have sent word of such, along with China's precious silk brocade, lacquerware, and porcelain, westward on trade routes, to boast that he was the benevolent host to Rome's ambassadors, in the hope that the message would ultimately reach that other emperor, the one called Caesar.
Of course, Timonides thought philosophically, there was a great chance the news would not reach Nero at all. And if it did, there was nothing he could do to rescue them. But it wasn't as if their captivity was unpleasant. Timonides had to concede that detainment in the capital city was surprisingly comfortable, in fact luxurious. The villa he shared with his son, Sebastianus, and Primo was spacious with many servants. Their living quarters looked out upon a garden called the Courtyard of the Pure Heart, where trickling fountains delighted the eye, lily pads floated on the pond's tranquil surface, tame egrets waded in the shallows, and songbirds in airy cages filled the air with trilling music. The visitors from the west enjoyed plentiful delicious food and delightful pastimes that included discreet young ladies, called Social Flowers, at night.
They rarely saw any other women in the imperial compound, as the sexes were separated. But they sometimes heard, during warm evenings filled with the scent of jasmine, voices on the other side of the Gate of Whispering Bamboos, feminine chatter and laughter and the clatter of mah-jongg tiles—the emperor's mother, sisters, nieces, aunts, and concubines, along with hundreds of female servants and eunuchs, whiling away their hours and lives in idle leisure.
A paradise on earth, Timonides thought. But it was not Rome. And as Sebastianus and Timonides and Primo had explored every inch of this city, which was two miles long and one mile wide, there was nothing left that they did not know of it—from the filthy crowding of the southern poor quarters where families were crammed in hovels and barely earned a subsistence living, to the villas of the rich in the north bordering the Imperial Palace, whose lives were filled with grace and ease.
Timonides knew that their caravan and all its goods had been confiscated by the emperor. But Sebastianus could not complain. He himself had declared them to be gifts for Ming. The slaves and servants, even Primo's fighting men, were all detained in Luoyang, in quarters suitable to their respective social status. The only ones who were thrilled with the captivity were the Buddhist missionaries who were spending many hours with the emperor, teaching him the life and philosophy of their founder, the Enlightened One.
"Master," Timonides said now for the hundredth time, "why not give the emperor what he wants? If you don't want to tell him where military garrisons are located, or vital geography, then invent them. Draw him a fanciful map of the Roman empire. He would never know!"
Whenever Sebastianus was summoned to the presence of the emperor, Ming would request politely that his honored guest draw a map of the Roman empire, indicating military installations, troop movements, war strategies. And each time Sebastianus would aver his ignorance on the subject—which was only partially true. Timonides knew they would be kept in Luoyang until the day they died if Sebastianus did not give the sovereign what he wanted.
"Because, Timonides my old friend, as I have already explained to you, Ming is putting me to a test. He is judging my integrity and character. Whether I draw him a true military map of the empire or a false one, either way it will reveal a lack of character on my part, for the former would mean a betrayal of my sovereign, the latter would mean I am being deceitful. Ming knows it can only be one or the other. And once I lose the emperor's respect, then we are no longer his guests, I am no longer an ambassador of Rome, and we go home in disgrace, having failed utterly at our mission."
"But now we do not go home at all!"
"But if we can manage to escape and avoid recapture, then we have saved face in both the eyes of Caesar and Emperor Ming. However, we need help. Where are Primo and Bold Dragon?"
Because they knew they were being watched, Sebastianus and Timonides strolled through the marketplace, idly inspecting novelty items unknown in Rome, which needed to be demonstrated in order to understand their function: small, handheld sticks for eating; a device made of bamboo and oiled cloth, held over the head against rain and the hot sun; fans made of feathers and silk, for wafting the face in heat; a board fixed with a metal spoon that, when spun, always returned to pointing north. They saw such wonders as lanterns made of paper, glowing in the night breeze; alchemists experimenting with a black powder that exploded; bamboo frameworks covered with silk, flying in the wind at the end of a long string.
Mostly they seemed like toys and gadgets to Sebastianus, but there were truly ingenious inventions as well, such as the small hand-propelled vehicle with one wheel in the front and two handles in the rear by which a man pushed and guided it—an ingenious device that allowed a worker to transport material too heavy to carry on his own. No such tool existed in Rome.
Sebastianus wished Ulrika could see these inventions for herself. Each time Sebastianus came upon something new, he thought of her, imagining her reaction. Ulrika loved to read. What would she make of Chinese literature printed on silk scrolls or painted in books made of peach wood? How would she discuss The Book of Changes by Confucius; The Art of War by Sun Tzu; a book of divination called I Ching by Fei Zhi; histories, biographies, volumes of poetry, myths, and fables?
He would love to discuss China's unique philosophies and beliefs with her. What would Ulrika make of the Great Sage, whose name was taboo to utter, a philosopher who lived five centuries ago? His name, Sebastianus had finally discovered, was K'ung-fu-tzu which meant "Master Kong," and which Sebastianus and Timonides rendered as Confucius, in order to avoid breaking the law of name-taboo. The Great Sage lived long ago and introduced a code of living that stressed morality, ethics, justice, and compassion, with principles of good conduct, practical wisdom, and proper social relationships.
There was also a local folk belief called Taoism, founded two hundred years prior by a man named Lao-Tzu. Tao was considered to be the Cosmic Intelligence, inaccessible to human understanding, that governed the natural course of all things. The practice encompassed black magic, alchemy, elixirs of life, and hundreds of gods. Taoists revered ancestor spirits and beings they called the Immortals, and were known for their devotion to the quest for immortality, as evidenced in their search for magic herbs and minerals that would promote eternal earthly life.
So many wonders in this exotic land! Sebastianus wished he could take Ulrika to the emperor's private zoo so that she could marvel at the black-eyed pandas, pacing white tigers, and orangutans that looked like old men. He wished she could feast her eyes on other fabulous offerings in the marketplace: towering statues of pink jade, carved into the likeness of Kwan-Yin, goddess of mercy; mountains of colorful silks and satins that blinded the eye; vast amphorae filled with delectable rice wine; urns beyond counting, groaning with aromatic spices; a confection made of almonds, called marzipan, molded into the shapes of animals and flowers; and bundles of a rare medicinal plant, called rhubarb, highly prized and very costly and found only on the banks of the Chang Jiang River.
He could not wait to share with her Chinese customs and traditions: the belief in and respect for dragons; the custom of both men and women to wear their hair long in the belief that since one got one's hair from one's parents it was disrespectful to cut it; the practice of dressing little boys as girls in the hope of fooling mischievous spirit-thieves into thinking he was a mere girl and not worth stealing; the ritual of placing dried peonies beneath a bed to keep evil spirits away.
He would explain to Ulrika that preserving family honor, saving face, and paying respects to the ancestors were prized above one's life, and that a man would prefer death to failing to observe these virtues. The Chinese also had a passion for harmony, long life, and good luck, all of which were pursued through the use of incense, amulets, charms, lucky numbers, and an almost fanatical devotion to keeping evil spirits out of the house by use of deceptive screens, waterfalls, and broomsticks.
Ulrika was in Sebastianus's thoughts day and night. Every single new thing he met and marveled at made him wish to share it with her. His love for her had grown over the miles and the months. He thought of the Social Flowers who greeted him and his companions in the evenings, after a day spent with the emperor or with astrologers and philosophers and other learned men. Beautiful young women, slim and delicate, like lilies indeed, demure and compliant, sweetly scented and softly spoken. They gave pleasure, as their name promised, but Sebastianus found it to be an empty pleasure, as there was only one woman whose embrace he truly desired.
Sebastianus had achieved his goal of reaching the throne of China. He knew that honors awaited him in Rome, that his name would be spoken far and wide for his achievement. But, in the end, what he had learned from Chinese philosophers and astrologers, from the emperor and his mandarins, from people in the streets and merchants' stalls, from the Social Flowers even, was that love was more important than honors and fame and knowledge. After nearly a year of drinking in this exotic culture and soaking up China's wisdom, Sebastianus knew that it was all empty if he had no one with whom to share it.
And what of Ulrika's life? What was she doing at that moment? Where was she? Was she happy or sad? Did she find her mother in Jerusalem? Did she find an explanation for her visions? Does she now know the meaning of the Divining and the location of Shalamandar? Sebastianus did not want to miss out on the milestones of Ulrika's life. Just as he wished she could share in his adventure, he wanted to share in hers.
"Primo said they would be here by noon," Sebastianus murmured as they neared the Gate of Heavenly Harmony, which led to the crowded southern quarter of the city. He looked up at the sun. It was now midday.
Timonides sensed his master's growing anxiousness and wished there was something he could do to alleviate it. He cast Sebastianus's horoscope twice a day, but nowhere could he read when their day of departure would be, or the manner of that departure. Wondering if perhaps, because they were in China, they should employ the methods of Chinese astrology, Timonides had studied the heavens with palace astrologers, but had ultimately not been able to master the science as it was so different from that of Greece and Rome.
In Chinese astrology, there were twelve star signs, each a different animal that ruled its own year and that supposedly demonstrated the characteristics of the person born in that year. There were also animal signs assigned to each month (called inner animals) and then to hours of the day (called secret animals). And so while a person might appear to be an Ox because he was born in the year of the Ox, he might also be a Bear internally and a Dragon secretively. This made for over eight thousand combinations, each a different personality with a different horoscope.
It made Timonides's head spin. He went back to his twelve zodiacal signs, his charts, and his protractor. But no predictions were forthcoming and he was beginning to wonder if possibly the power of the gods of Greece and Rome did not reach this far.
He returned to watching Nestor, a giant among the citizens of Luoyang, as he wandered into the corner of the spice market, where food vendors were cooking over open fires. Nestor had not found eastern cooking a challenge, quickly taking to soybeans, native to China, and other such culinary oddities as cucumbers, ginger, and anise. Nestor had even learned a new way of cooking: because China did not have big forests, cooking fuel was always hard to find and so the Chinese had learned to cut up their food into tiny pieces so that it would fry quickly when stirred over a small fire.
Typical of the astrologer's simple-minded son, Nestor had already mastered such exotic dishes as rice fried with scallions; stewed crab and crispy eel; boiled turtle with ham; lotus seeds in honey. His masterpiece was deep-fried chicken feet with black bean sauce. It made Timonides salivate just to think of them.
But Timonides frowned now as he watched his son taste a pinch of pepper at a spice seller's stall. Nestor's craft had slipped of late. Too much salt, not enough oil. Delicacies such as cow's eyes and sheep's testicles overcooked and ruined. Did the boy, in his strange way of thinking that was both simple and complex, sense that they were trying to get out of Luoyang?
Primo finally appeared in the crowd, looking cross and anxious. And he was alone. When he neared his two friends, he glanced over his shoulder before saying quietly to Sebastianus, "Bold Dragon is dead. His headless corpse was found floating in the river."
"Ming discovered our plan."
Sebastianus immediately thought of Little Sparrow, who had never come back to his bed after the night of Bold Dragon's visit. He had inquired about her, but had been met with blank responses, as if she did not exist. He was not in love with her. His feelings for her were always of the moment. While his body was with the girl from a northern province of China, his heart was always with Ulrika. But still, her absence had made him wonder.
And he wondered now if her disappearance at the same time Bold Dragon was killed was no coincidence. Sebastianus had been warned about being kind to the pleasure-girls. They could be grasping and jealous, the eunuchs had cautioned. They wove intrigue among themselves, during their long days of boredom, with each one striving to rise in rank above the others. Had Little Sparrow overheard his secret conversation with Primo and Bold Dragon, and then reported it to someone on the emperor's staff? She would have been richly rewarded, he decided, for warning the emperor of their plan to escape.
Sebastianus hoped that whatever Little Sparrow's reward for her treachery, she was enjoying it. Because now it was going to be impossible to get out of Luoyang.
"Master," Timonides wailed, "tell the emperor what he wants to know."
"You cannot do that," Primo hissed. "To divulge Rome's military extent, strengths, and weaknesses would be treason."
"And if we never leave here?" the astrologer snapped. "Caesar would understand."
"Or send us to the arena."
"Look!" Sebastianus said, pointing. They saw Noble Heron riding toward them in his familiar red and gold carrying chair.
The high official stepped to the ground. "Esteemed guest," he said to Sebastianus with an elegant bow. "It is my humble honor to inform you that the Lord of Ten Thousand Years intends to make a journey around the countryside to introduce his new empress to his vassal peoples."
A few weeks prior, Ming had been persuaded by his mother the dowager empress to elevate his consort, Ma, to the lofty position of empress. Luoyang had exploded with celebrations. Ma was popular with the courtiers, and the citizens of Luoyang loved what they had heard about her. Sebastianus himself admired the young lady, who was humble and solemn for one so elevated. The other imperial consorts and princesses were all surprised at how thrifty she was, as Ma often wore less expensive silk, and without elaborate designs. Emperor Ming consulted her often on important matters of state.
Noble Heron continued, "The Lord of Ten Thousand Years wishes to show his love and respect for his empress in front of his subjugated peoples, and to allow them the privilege and honor of paying homage to her. As part of the continued celebrations marking her crowning as empress," he said, nodding toward the many colorful paper lanterns that still decorated the market square after weeks of festivities, "the entire royal court will set out upon a journey to visit the countryside, and the Lord of Heaven wishes to invite his guests from Li-chien to join the happy journey."
Sebastianus and Primo exchanged a glance, each thinking that the festive journey most likely had more to do with parading the powerful presence of the Han Family and to gather intelligence on possible rebellions. It was well known that North Xiongnu continued to be a constant threat to both Han and her ally South Xiongnu. Although Emperor Ming engaged in a variety of military and economic tactics to try to maintain peace with North Xiongnu, the peace was shaky. A show of might was called for.
As they watched Noble Heron ride away, Sebastianus said excitedly to his two companions, "My friends, I believe this is the opportunity we have been praying for."
33
THE FIERCE HORSEMEN LINED up to face one another on the grassy plain, a hundred to each side, their husky mounts—the famous steppe horses with dense fur coats and thick skins, and known for their endurance—spirited and eager for the fray. The riders wore tall felt hats, leather trousers, and sheep's wool tunics. They called themselves Tazhkin and considered themselves to be the hardiest people alive because their ancestors came from a harsh realm at the southern edge of the Gobi Desert. It was said that, in combat, the screams of these warriors so curdled the blood of the enemy that they dropped dead before a single dagger was thrown.
And yet, somehow, Emperor Ming's father, the great Guangwu, had managed to defeat the Tazhkin with his forces and turn them into allies of the Chinese empire.
A great crowd stood along one length of the plain, men and women of the Tazhkin, but Chinese, too, from Ming's enormous retinue. The emperor himself was not in view, but rather was ensconced within his heavily guarded pavilion, as it was discovered that his wife was pregnant, and her many advisors cautioned that for her to look upon combat would instill a violent nature in her child.
But it was not truly a battle that was about to take place, it was a game. They called it "polo" and it was played by two teams of a hundred horsemen each, and consisted of swinging long sticks at a leather ball as the riders galloped at reckless speeds across the grassy plain.
Sebastianus stood with his companions in the boisterous crowd, waiting for the game to begin. He knew now why they had been invited along on this inspection tour—so that Emperor Ming could further demonstrate his power by parading his "guests" to his subjugated peoples, men from fabled Li-chien who served a powerful ruler—but not as powerful as the Lord of Ten Thousand Years.
In every province, village, and territory they visited, Sebastianus had observed the emperor with his advisors sitting beneath a magnificent red and gold canopy, surrounded by servants and guards, conferring quietly. Sebastianus listened at campfires as he made the acquaintance of strangers. He told Primo to talk with local soldiers. If an uprising were fomenting against Emperor Ming, proud warrior clans chafing under the yoke of the Celestial Ruler, Sebastianus wanted to know. An outbreak of war would be their opportunity to escape.
When Sebastianus had once considered simply asking the emperor's permission to go home, Noble Heron had warned him that such a request would be a great insult to the Heavenly Lord, as it would tell the world that the emperor's hospitality was lacking, for why else would guests wish to leave? In order to save face, the Lord of Ten Thousand Years would have to counteract by increasing his hospitality to the foreign guests by making their stay in Luoyang even more luxurious. And they would still be prisoners.
And now the tour was over, tomorrow they were to return to Luoyang. Both Sebastianus and Emperor Ming knew that the Romans' usefulness had come to an end. Both were weary of the novelty of this first meeting between east and west. Sebastianus suspected that Ming would be pleased for them to leave, to return to Caesar and inform him of the might and power of Emperor Ming. However, to allow the Romans leave would cause Ming to lose face. To allow them even an avenue of escape, no matter how cleverly staged, would be perceived as a weakness of the emperor's security guard.
And so they were at a stalemate, and Sebastianus was at a loss to find a solution.
At his side, standing in disgruntled silence, Timonides watched the polo match with a jaundiced eye. An idiotic way to pass the time, he thought as he marveled at the fever-pitch frenzy of the spectators who screamed and jumped up and down and cursed and cheered. Chariot races were so much more civilized. Timonides could not wait to get back to his own world. He was looking forward to the fame they were certain to enjoy in Rome. There would most likely be a triumphal parade in their honor, and feasting that would go on for days. Rice and noodles were all well and good, but he missed sinking his teeth into a loaf of good hot bread dipped in olive oil.
Nestor exploded with laughter and clapped his hands. It made the old Greek's heart expand with love to see his son enjoying himself so. He knew that Nestor did not grasp what he was watching, that there were points to be won and prizes to be had. The boy just liked watching the horses thundering back and forth amid the shouts of the riders. And after all it wasn't necessary for Nestor to understand the game because Timonides knew that his son's simple mind was now a repository of countless recipes for exotic dishes that were going to make him very popular in Rome.
We will open an eating house near the Forum and people will come from miles around for a taste of fabled China. Senators will sit at the tables of Timonides the Greek. Perhaps even the Emperor himself ...
The polo game ended and the visitors from the west—who bore the extreme distinction of being guests of the Emperor of China—were invited to dine in the tent of the Tazhkin chief. Ming and his empress, and their entourage of over five hundred, dined separately in a collection of red and gold pavilions that made up a small village. Sebastianus and his friends were not part of that elite, unapproachable clique.
The banquet put on by Chief Jammu was surprisingly sumptuous, with expensive delicacies and costly wine that flowed freely. As Sebastianus and his friends sat cross-legged on elegant carpets and dined off brass plates, it was apparent that this was a wealthy tribe. Jammu's many guests, the heads of noble families, were healthy and well dressed. The men wore tall hats made of colorful felt, with sheepskin vests and woolen trousers, while the women wore pantaloons beneath long silk shifts. Maidens covered their faces with veils while the wives of prosperous men festooned their foreheads with gold coins. Many villages and settlements the emperor had visited were inhabited by farmers barely making a subsistence living, but these Tazhkin, with their platters heaped with meat, and goblets brimming with wine, were wealthy.
From what? Sebastianus wondered.
The usual dancers and musicians, jugglers and acrobats were brought out to entertain the men from the west, while Sebastianus tried to describe Rome to Chief Jammu—now with the aid of a fourth translator who spoke Chinese and Tazhkin, so that Sebastianus wondered how accurately his information was being conveyed, going through four men as it did.
More wine flowed and the music grew louder until Chief Jammu—a large, barrel-chested man with missing teeth and bronze skin—began to boast about something Sebastianus could not comprehend. The translators, it seemed, grew less skillful the more the wine loosened their tongues. And so when he hefted his large frame from the carpet and gestured to his guests, Sebastianus and Primo and Timonides had to rise with him and wonder where they were being taken.
Outside, they found imperial Chinese guards standing watch, as they had done since leaving Luoyang—a constant reminder to Sebastianus that he and his companions were prisoners—and they fell into step behind the small group as the chief led them through the chilly spring night.
They arrived at an enormous tent, even larger than the one in which they had dined and been entertained. It glowed from within and was guarded by Tazhkin soldiers, who snapped to attention when they saw their chief. Sebastianus could not imagine the purpose of so large a tent, or why it was guarded, and he suspected that he and Timonides and Primo were about to be shown the tribe's treasure. He imagined gold and gems as the chief bent his tall frame to step through the opening.
They followed, with Timonides making sure his son did not bang his head on the wooden door frame, for Nestor was taller even than the Tazhkin chief. As their eyes adjusted to the dim light of the interior, the visitors from the west frowned at the sight before them. "What is this?" Timonides asked, taking in the rows of tables that appeared to be covered with balls of white cotton.
They were led closer, and saw that the "cotton balls" were lined in rows and pinched between long wooden dowels, thousands of them, lying on the racks like snow. Through the translators, the visitors learned from Chief Jammu that what they were looking at were the cocoons of silk moths. The man from Pisa, who spoke Persian and Latin, explained that the special moths were husbanded like cattle or sheep, nurtured and protected until they lay their eggs on specially prepared paper. When the eggs hatched, the newborn caterpillars were fed fresh leaves, and after one month were ready. A wooden frame was placed over the tray of caterpillars and each began spinning a cocoon, attaching it to one of the long dowels in the frame. Within three days the caterpillars were completely encased in their cocoons.
The caterpillars were then killed by heat, and the cocoons were soaked in boiling water to soften the silk fibers, which were then unwound to produce continuous threads.
The guests followed Jammu as he boastfully described this process, and Sebastianus knew that he was omitting certain steps because it was illegal for anyone other than silk farmers to know the secret of making silk. So carefully guarded was the secret of manufacturing silk, in fact, that it was a death sentence to even try to smuggle a single silkworm out of China.
It took five thousand silkworms, Jammu bragged through his missing front teeth, to make one silk robe. Which was why, Sebastianus and his friends knew, silk was so costly in Rome, especially as it must pass through so many middlemen after leaving China, with each raising the price in order to make a profit. Were this secret ever to make it back to Rome, along with moths to start a small silk farm, the lucrative business here in China would dry up.
