The Silk Tree Read online

  Smothered gasps and sighs left no doubt about the sympathy of the court.

  ‘Beat him,’ the Emperor said in a subdued tone.

  Yuan’s face distorted with a snarl as he took a rod and crossed to the cowering figure. He thrashed the messenger in strong, aimed blows. The man whimpered and writhed, still crouched in obeisance. Blood seeped through the back of his robe.

  ‘Enough!’ the Grand Chamberlain snapped.

  The herald scrambled to crawl away and the hall quickly began to empty as the courtiers backed out with profuse bowing and ceremony.

  The Grand Chamberlain was left alone with his Emperor. ‘Great Lord, the news is painful.’ Kuo had uneasily noted that the promotion of Kao Yang from warlord to usurper had not in any way been challenged.

  ‘That Kao Yang has seen fit to ignore my mercy is his own failing that he will live to regret.’

  ‘Nonetheless, sire, General Wu counsels a prudent withdrawal of the Emperor to a place of greater safety.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘You will know, Heavenly Lord, that I ever hold the Celestial Dragon’s self as the most precious in this mortal world.’ He paused. ‘Yet an even higher purpose drives my words: the duty of a ruler to his subjects – the paramount requirement to preserve his sacred body to continue to stand between the divine and the worldly on behalf of his people.’

  There was no response from behind the hanging.

  ‘Therefore I have no alternative than to join General Wu in exhorting the Emperor of Eastern Wei to temporarily quit the city for a more tranquil place, there to—’

  ‘Lord Kuo! You are forgetting one thing.’

  ‘Sire?’

  ‘We reign here over the people of Wei by right, and for one high reason – and one only.’

  ‘Your Majesty.’ Kuo bowed low.

  ‘The Mandate of Heaven was conferred upon us. We hold the sacred trust to rule and none may deny it. While we thus retain the mandate the gods will extend their grace and protection to us and our kingdom. We therefore have nothing to fear from the Lord Kao Yang.’

  ‘Then might I put forward another course. It has been overlong since the Emperor last made a progress among his peoples? Might not an appearing of the Son of Heaven among them—’

  ‘Grand Chamberlain – Yeh Ch’eng has been the ancestral capital of the Wei from ancient times. Do you expect us to abandon it at the slightest alarm? No, it shall not be seen that the Emperor of Wei of this day scuttles away from his inheritance like a frightened rabbit! General Wu stands before the usurper invested with full imperial power and authority. He will not let them pass. And recollect that our soldiers are soon returning victorious from the southern rising and together they will sweep the rabble aside!’

  ‘We pray that this be so, sire. Yet common prudence allows that—’

  ‘Be still! The Emperor in full puissance continues to rule, and from the palace of his ancestors in Yeh Ch’eng. Your counsel is noted, and rejected. You may leave us.’

  In his apartment Kuo sat at his elegantly carved desk with a heavy heart. It first bore a scholar’s work some two centuries before, its red-stained wood now dark with the patina of ages. He gazed at the hanging frame of writing brushes, inkstone and jade seal and tried to let the tranquillity of far antiquity work on his soul.

  His attendant and chief scribe Wang entered and waited patiently.

  ‘The Son of Heaven stays,’ Kuo said evenly.

  ‘As we might have expected, Master,’ said Wang carefully. ‘He’s an old man, and they have their memories.’

  ‘Quite. Yet I will not deny it, the omens are adverse at this time. There is no sign that we are to be noticed by the gods and the Tao abbot refuses to cast any kind of prognostication, the villain.’

  ‘Then …’

  ‘Then we must look to our own situation, First-Born Wang.’

  The younger man picked up on his tone, went to the door and closed it quietly. Then he sat respectfully opposite Kuo. ‘Sir, Kao Yang is ambitious and impatient. He has shown his hand and must move soon. General Wu has little cavalry and cannot stand against Kao Yang’s Mongols. I have in my bowels—’

  ‘Yes. I’m rather referring to the inevitability of what must come, and hence what alternatives are left to us. Kao Yang is capricious and brutal. What he will do when he has supreme power does not bear thinking of.’

  ‘I … understand, Master. You are saying that we must consider the case in which the Emperor does not prevail and is …’

  ‘As the will of Heaven dictates, of course.’

  ‘Just so.’ Wang hesitated then continued softly, ‘There are those who have already made disposition. Lord Chu was summoned by the throne and has not answered. The Lady Ch’i could not be found when her women begged audience and when Master Sung was sent for—’

  ‘Rats will always flee before a whirlwind, as dragons will stand.’

  ‘Some claim that it is better to serve the Wei by preserving their wisdom and knowledge for a victorious return.’

  ‘This is a correct and worthy conclusion.’

  ‘Then you will …?’

  The Grand Chamberlain faced Wang directly, and in a calm, considered tone replied, ‘I desire you should now assemble the secretariat to gather together the records of the Eastern Wei and this day transport them to Luoyang for safety.’

  ‘And you, Master?’

  With a bleak smile Kuo said, ‘For my own unworthy self there is no other course of moral value before heaven than to stay by the Dragon Throne.’

  ‘Sir, this is madness!’ gasped Wang.

  ‘For many years I have served His Majesty and in return he has seen fit to render to me confidences and trust beyond any man’s deserving. It is not within my power to flee while he stands alone to face his destiny.’

  ‘Then … this is your decision?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Master – you must not!’

  ‘My unalterable will.’

  For long moments Wang gazed at his lord and preceptor. Then he replied quietly, ‘Very well, Master, I accept it and shall honour you always for the lesson you have taught me. That loyalty has two tails. I have served you likewise, and in the same manner you have illuminated me with your inner thoughts. And that is why, while you remain by the Celestial Throne, I shall stand by you.’

  In the silence that followed, the mournful cry of a shrike sounded outside.

  ‘I go now to prepare the secretariat, Master,’ Wang said after a space.

  ‘Do send my daughter to me, and … thank you, First-Born Wang.’

  ‘My Lord?’ Ying Mei rose from her bow and looked anxiously up at the Grand Chamberlain. ‘You called for me?’

  ‘My devoted yuan kua. Dearest child and warmth of my heart.’

  ‘Father?’ A chill began to settle. This endearment from her childhood – chubby melon – was always light-hearted and warm. Now there was nothing but seriousness and gravity about her father.

  ‘I wish to speak to you, my daughter.’

  Obediently she sat with lowered eyes.

  ‘The times are grave and perilous … but then you know to what I refer.’

  ‘Yes, Father. The usurper Kao Yang at our gates.’

  ‘Just so.’ A wintry smile appeared and went as quickly. ‘Yuan kua, you always were quick in your intellects.’

  ‘If you say it, honourable Father.’

  ‘Now listen to me. I conceive that the days to come in Yeh Ch’eng will not have a happy outcome. I wish you to go with your mother to Luoyang without delay. You will be safe with our household guardsmen. Do you understand me?’

  Her face rose to his, pale and worried. ‘Father, I want to know what it is you intend.’

  ‘That does not concern you, my flower.’

  She bit her lip. ‘You’ll remain with the Emperor, won’t you!’

  ‘My child, I have served the Son of Heaven faithfully until now and see no reason to abandon his presence for the sake of my own convenience.’


  Tears sprang and she lowered her head to hide them.

  ‘Do not weep for me, yuan kua,’ he said tenderly, his hand going out to stroke her. ‘To every man there comes a season – to endure or take pleasure in, it does not signify. The sages tell us that it is a measure of the man, how he means to respond.’

  ‘Father, I disobey you!’ she blurted.

  She raised glittering eyes to his. ‘Can’t you see? With your noble example before us how is it possible for me to go – to leave you here, so steadfast and true! No, Father, we’ll face what comes together, as our ancestors always did. I stay.’

  Kuo turned away quickly. When he spoke at last his voice was husky. ‘I have a daughter more precious than a thousand taels of gold – no, ten thousand. It will increase my worries a hundredfold but if you are set in your course I will not try to dissuade you.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Nicander choked, ‘So close! So help me, we were so close to … It’s our own fault,’ he went on miserably. ‘We should have got away while we could.’

  He and Marius sat cross-legged on the deck, prisoners, their hands bound behind their backs.

  The captain’s fears had not been misplaced: pirates had boarded under the cover of the last of the fog and overcome the crew before any defence could be mounted. They’d then systematically ransacked the ship, screaming in delight at the discovery of the treasure.

  An island appeared on the horizon and they drew closer then anchored. White beaches overhung with palm trees quite different to those of Arabia, verdant growth and a lazy surf seething across offshore reefs.

  The prisoners were manhandled into smaller boats for the trip through the breakers to the calm of a lagoon and then with a hiss of sand they came to a stop on the beach.

  They were prodded into the undergrowth and made to take a path which led to a clearing and a stockade.

  Inside it was a mire of squelching mud that stank of human waste.

  Nicander’s stomach churned.

  ‘Put up a brave face, Greek,’ Marius growled. ‘Else they’ve won, haven’t they?’

  The legionary glanced contemptuously at the other prisoners. One wept, some stared into nothing, trembling and uncomprehending like whipped dogs.

  ‘Whatever comes, take it like a man. Who quails knows defeat!’

  ‘Yes, Marius,’ Nicander said, drawing on the man’s strength to rise above his fears and dread.

  The gates were swung wide and a fat dark-skinned man dressed in a multicoloured cloak came into the stockade. He paused, grimacing at the smell.

  A village headman encouraged him on, then six warriors forced the prisoners to line up.

  The man inspected them, feeling a muscle here, rolling back an eyelid there. He chose three – then came to Nicander who looked past the impassive black face, trying not to catch his eye.

  He moved on to the next. Marius. He paused … and jerked his thumb with a grunt of satisfaction.

  The legionary was taken away, into slavery, head defiantly held high.

  Nicander felt a lump in his throat threatening to choke him. He would never see his true companion and comrade again in this life.

  The situation beat in on him; Marius was gone and with him the one rock of sanity in this rabid existence.

  Then his friend’s strength reached out to him one last time. Nicander clamped a ferocious hold on his emotions. Yes! He would face it like a man. For Marius’s sake!

  Wearisome days followed one on another. Nicander came to know every inch of the compound as he paced it out, round and round. He avoided the other prisoners, who had descended into feral bickering.

  At one point he found his mind floating, ignoring bodily sensation, taking delight in a butterfly’s erratic fluttering, the regularity of shadows.

  In this out-of-world state at first he did not register that coming through the gate was a bruised, bloody but most definitely unbowed Marius.

  His eyes focused on the unbelievable sight and then he hurried to him, stopping shame-faced before he gave away his true feelings. ‘M-Marius!’ he cried. ‘You’re here!’

  ‘Ah, well. Seems I didn’t make a good slave,’ he growled through split lips. ‘The bastard made sure he got his money back, though.’

  He bent and stretched painfully. ‘You look in good shape still. Anything happened?’

  ‘N-no,’ Nicander replied, unable to manage more.

  ‘Well, don’t get your hopes up, we being together again. I saw a big nob come in a ship. He could be after slaves – then we’d be off the same way.’

  It was an unbearable thought and when they were lined up once more Nicander was frozen with dread.

  This time the buyer was a mild-featured Oriental who went up to the line and sliced an arm down, then nodded at the right-hand division of five – which included them both.

  The slave ship was a large dhow. They were chained to the side but at least being the last on they were close to the hatch and fresh air.

  With no view outboard there was no clue as to where they were going. But the name of their destination would be meaningless. They were in a universe entirely unknown to civilisation: lands and peoples that existed in ignorance of the Roman world, every element and detail of their living different and disturbing.

  Once there was a blow and as the ship heaved and rolled, rain mixed with salt spray soaked them through the hatch. They endured, Marius visibly fighting down his demons – if the ship sank, in chains, they would be dragged down to the depths.

  Then came the calms. The sun beat down unendurably. One of the crew threw sacking over the hatch which provided some shade. The still heat stayed, their torment not even relieved at nightfall.

  Were they headed into the fabled boiling sea?

  Finally it seemed they had arrived at their destination and they were brought out on deck. Nicander peered ashore at a sizeable town set in a bowl of surrounding mountains. There was a staggering amount of green vegetation. Covering every inch of the steep countryside it came right down to the edge of the water in a wild explosion of growth.

  Unloading began immediately. In some pain from cramped limbs they were taken to a wooden jetty, then the group was roped together and led off into the interior.

  What was this land? To one side a monument like a highly decorated spike reared up, on the other an exotic temple with yellow-robed priests gave out a sepulchral boom of some giant bell. The houses were utterly different, on stilts clear of the earth. The people, whose strange oriental features seemed to Nicander to be each and every one the same, wore simple loincloths and a wound headdress. There were dark pigs of mysterious breed roaming, monkeys and numberless yellow dogs. Above all there was an odour of rotting vegetation and animal sludge.

  They were brought to what seemed to be a slave market and forced to squat, still roped, while account was made of their existence. Then they were led off to an adjacent barracks where they were confined.

  Mercifully they were unbound and Marius began to exercise in the army way. Nicander joined him but fell out panting when Marius pressed the limits. ‘Just to feel I’m alive after that fucking sea,’ he said with feeling.

  ‘I’m guessing the slave dealer who bought us from the pirates is now going to cash in,’ Nicander said in a level voice.

  In the morning Nicander and Marius were taken into the forest, and made to wash under a waterfall. After they finished they were given a waistcloth – a simple front and back flap joined by a string – and a plain cap.

  Their cast-off clothes disappeared, one more step had been taken on the path of losing their past, their identity, their being.

  Nicander gave a half smile. They would be put up for sale before very long. ‘Marius. Could I give you some advice?’

  ‘Don’t you always, Greek?’

  ‘Well, it’s like this. If you remember back home, there are two kinds of slave. Those who work their lives away in the fields and those taking it easy in domestic service. I know what
I’d rather do. I beg of you, Marius, do try to be docile and biddable and you’ll have a chance of being chosen for service instead.’

  They were paraded around a small enclosure in a line. On one side were the buyers, eyeing them professionally. Occasionally one of them would indicate an individual to be brought for closer examination.

  They circled again. Nicander lifted his chin, imitating the dignity of Marius in front of him.

  A cane came out and tapped Marius smartly on the shoulder. He was taken out of the line and to the prospective buyer.

  In a surge of desperation Nicander left the line and ran to the elderly oriental in a full-length silk gown, whose eyes widened with astonishment. Nicander flung himself on his knees and mimed a heartfelt plea to be kept with his friend.

  There was a torrent of jabbering. For a long moment the man stared down at him then imperiously gestured at the slave-keeper.

  They would go as a pair. They were now the property of the man in the silk gown to do with as he wished.

  He spent some time inspecting them, peering into their faces, especially that of Marius, whose pale-blue eyes seemed to fascinate him. Delicately he reached with his cane and lifted the front of his waistcloth, revealing the white skin of his loins. Satisfied, he let it drop and asked a question in a strange, song-like language.

  Marius shook his head and the man repeated it several more times in different ways. At the incomprehension he smiled sadly but seemed satisfied with his purchase.

  While the rest of the human cargo lay in the pit of an open hold amidships they were granted a small compartment in the bows, sheltered from rain and sun. It reeked of dried fish but it was out of the merciless sun and even had two circular holes in the side for fresh air.

  There were two other two ships in their argosy – an exceedingly strange sight with their high square poop decks, flat ornamented sterns with a central rudder and a hull curved fore and aft. Most peculiar were the sails, a single rectangular one on both masts but with many rigid horizontal battens across them. A red flag with curious black markings was at the masthead of each.