Empire of Dragons (30 page)

‘One of your men betrayed you,’ concluded Baj Renjie.

‘That may not be so,’ the old man said. ‘An informer may have seen the prince at some time during his long journey. The Persian emperor may have informed the court of Luoyang of his escape, and thus the border posts would have been put on alert.’

‘Your jealousy is ridiculous, Baj Renjie,’ said the prince, ‘and your attempt to lead me to suspect those who restored my freedom and made my return possible is mistaken and unfair. I will need all those who are willing to help me and especially you, you who have always been faithful to me. But I ask you to respect the round-eyed men, even if they are barbarians and very different from us. Do you understand, Baj Renjie?’

The officer made a deep bow.

‘I will stay here no longer than strictly necessary, because I do not want to expose this village, which is so dear to me, to harm.’

‘We are willing to face anything for you, My Lord,’ said one of the dignitaries.

‘I know, but this only increases my responsibility,’ replied the prince.

Those present looked each other in the face in astonishment, hardly believing their ears.

‘Leave me alone now,’ directed the prince. ‘I must think things over.’

All the dignitaries left the room.

Baj Renjie approached the prince before leaving. ‘Have you any orders to give me, My Lord?’

‘None, for the moment.’

‘Must I keep an eye on the barbarians?’

‘I don’t think there’s any need for that.’

‘And if they should try to leave?’

‘They won’t do that. They don’t know where to go and their only thought is returning home. So you have nothing to fear. I’ve already arranged for them to be given food and accommodation. Go now.’

Baj Renjie retreated, bowing several times without ever turning his back, until he had reached the door.

Dan Qing waited until he had heard the outer door close, then walked to the staircase and began to go up. With every step, he felt like he was going back in time, to his adolescence, then to his childhood and to his infancy. He remembered the time he had spent in that place among simple people, farmers and shepherds, in accordance with the wishes of his father, who had left him there for long periods of his life. He remembered the first time he had met his sister Yun Shan, a celestial creature with an ivory complexion. She had been his playmate, his confidante, his precious jewel of jade. Then something terrible had happened, a dramatic event that had profoundly wounded her and created a barrier of resentment between them. He had had no news of her since his departure; he wondered where she could be and how she felt about him now.

He reached the top of the house and let his gaze sweep across the valley on which the shadows of night had begun to fall, the contours of the mountains and the sinuous line of the hills, until he found the point he was looking for, a spot marked by an enormous oak and a rocky cliff. He waited, absorbed in his thoughts, until he saw the faint light of a fire at the base of the cliff and a wisp of smoke rising towards the darkening sky. He left the house then, took his horse and rode off towards the place where the fire was burning.

He crossed the village amid the respectful discretion of its inhabitants and took the path that led towards the hill. He advanced at a steady pace, keeping his eye on the reverberating flames which glimmered between the tall, shiny bamboo stalks and the furrowed oak trunks. He stopped when he found himself before the lean, cross-legged figure of the village shaman, who sat in front of a copper pot bubbling over the fire.

‘I heard of your arrival,’ said the old man, almost without taking his eyes from the flames.

‘How did you learn about it so soon? I’ve only just arrived.’

‘Nothing that happens in this village can remain hidden from me. You were gone for a very long time.’

‘And now that I’ve returned, everything has changed. The power of my father is in the hands of a usurper. Do you know who he is?’

‘No. But perhaps you do.’

‘I told you, I’ve only just set foot in my homeland. I know absolutely nothing.’

‘And yet you have a premonition. Don’t you?’

Dan Qing did not answer. His gaze was fixed on the flames, which abruptly seemed to be growing into a fire so immense it could devour the whole earth.

‘Don’t you?’ repeated the shaman.

‘What do you mean? That the Heavens have ordained that the rule of the land be taken from my family, as it was taken from the Han dynasty thirty years ago? That what has happened – this
geming
– is the will of the Heavens?’

‘You said it, I didn’t. The presentiment is yours alone. And this is a bad sign. On the other hand, the blood of the Han still runs in your veins, although their dynasty is lost.’

‘What must I do?’

‘Look inside yourself. See if there is a cause for all this. If there was an action that violated the harmony, that interrupted the flow of vital energy, and that has brought disorder and confusion, violence and war.’

‘I’ve always dreamed of bringing prosperity and order to my people. I dream of reuniting the country.’

‘Then why do you harbour doubt? What strange haste has driven you here so soon?’

‘Cast your bones, shaman, tell me who the usurper is. What hides behind his mask?’

The shaman tossed a handful of leaves on to the fire and breathed in the dense yellowish vapour which rose from the flames. He then took the sacred bones from his sack and threw them to the ground three times, near the fire.

‘What do you see?’ insisted Dan Qing.

‘I see many lives sacrificed and I see hate that only death can extinguish. But I cannot see where it will strike . . . because you refuse to understand the signs. It is you who dares not look, and thus yours will not be the final blow. It won’t be you who cuts down your enemy. Someone else will have to do it for you. One who has done no harm in the Middle Kingdom. As far as you are concerned, if you have the courage to look into your soul, you will also see the face of the usurper. Farewell, Prince.’

He closed his eyes and isolated himself in an impenetrable silence.

Dan Qing remained still for some time as well, trying to make sense of the shaman’s message, but he realized that he was not ready to face such a revelation. Only his master, venerable Wangzi, could help him seek the truth.

The prince started at the sound of his horse’s neighing. He took him by the reins and led him back to the village. The tower house was illuminated by coloured lanterns in celebration of his return, but there were no other signs of rejoicing. The bad news, perhaps, obscured the good.

He dined alone, as befitted his rank, but it felt awkward after all those months of sharing his meals with his travelling companions, after all the trials they had faced together. He realized that despite the detachment he had insisted upon, there was something about their way of life that had remained part of him. Even something about their language. After dinner, he opened the door to the library and stayed awake until late, perusing an ancient text that had survived the destruction of the library of Luoyang. The text told the story of the ‘Mercenary Devils’, the foreign soldiers who had appeared suddenly at the western confines of the country three hundred and fourteen years before. No one knew where they had come from.

Emperor Yuandi, who reigned at that time, gave orders to drive them away and to take back the land they had occupied, but his troops were defeated time and time again by those indomitable warriors who engaged battle on the open field and fought with their shields on their heads. In the end the emperor, awed by the valour of those men who had materialized out of nowhere, proposed that they enter his service as his personal guard. From that moment on, their bravery and loyalty became legendary. Many of them fell in combat in a number of military missions, until only three hundred of them remained, and that was the number that went down in history. It was said that if the dynasty was ever threatened with destruction, the Mercenary Devils would return from their tombs to fight their last battle.

Dan Qing lay on the bed in which he had slept as an adolescent, where he had first dreamed of love, imagining the woman he would have at his side one day. His thoughts turned to his ancestors, and he entreated them to show him the way and to help him in an endeavour that appeared more desperate by the day.

‘H
OW ARE YOU TODAY
, Rufus?’ Metellus asked his wounded soldier.

‘He’s much better, Commander,’ replied Martianus for him. Rufus was, at the moment, immersed in a deep sleep. ‘One of their doctors came last night. He said that the prince had sent him to care for our comrade. I wanted to advise you, but then I thought that it would be discourteous to refuse their help and I gave him permission to examine Rufus.’

‘You did well. As far as I can tell, their medicine is probably further advanced than ours is.’

‘You could swear on it, Commander. The first thing he did was to pour a liquid on the wound. Then he treated it and sewed it up with a silken thread, with more skill than I’ve ever seen. Every now and then, I’d ask Rufus if it was hurting him, and he’d answer, “No, not in the least. I can feel the needle piercing my skin, the thread pulling, but no pain at all.” Imagine if I’d had something of the sort when I had to put our soldiers’ mangled limbs back together after a battle! Their screams, the agony . . . you never get used to it, Commander.’

Metellus nodded his head, then put his hand on the wounded soldier’s forehead. ‘He has a fever, but it’s not high.’

‘He’s been sleeping for ten hours. It must be the potion that their doctor gave him. It was a dark liquid, very bitter, Rufus told me before he fell asleep, similar to wormwood. Sleep is the best cure for a fever. You’ll see, he’ll wake up with a roaring appetite, ready to start marching again.’

‘I hope so.’ Metellus turned to go.

‘Commander, can I ask you a question?’

‘Certainly.’

‘When are we going to change direction? I mean, when are we starting back for home?’

‘I can’t say. We must have faith in Daruma and in the prince. I think we’re not too far from our final destination. A few days at most.’

‘And then?’

‘Daruma will have to see to his affairs, sell and buy his goods – that may take some time. And we must be certain that Prince Dan Qing is out of harm’s way before we leave him.’

‘I see. But then we’ll be leaving, won’t we?’

‘Of course. Why do you doubt it?’

‘Well, you see, the boys and I have been trying to figure it out. What we’re afraid of, Commander, is that by the time we arrive, the favourable winds will have changed, and the weather will be against us again, and we’ll have to wait six more months . . .’

Metellus raised his hand and Martianus fell still. ‘Your destiny is dearer to me than my own, soldier. That will have to be enough for now.’

‘Yes, Commander,’ replied Martianus, and Metellus left.

The sun appeared just then from the wooded hills that circled the village to the east and its clear light was reflected in the many ponds arranged in tiers around the town. Big grey herons took off from the placid sheets of water, and flocks of little white egrets left the branches of the trees where they had spent the night and took flight across the valley, like a joyous cortège greeting the morning.

The farmers left their homes and walked down the paths that wound their way around the pools where each one of them had a plot for planting marsh grain, their most common food. They were followed by their dogs and their children, who delighted in playing in the water.

Metellus ran into Publius, Septimius and Antoninus, who seemed very excited. ‘Commander, Commander!’

‘What’s the matter, boys?’

‘This place is incredible! Do you know that here the fish, instead of being grey, are the colour of gold?’

‘Are you sure? You haven’t been drinking already, have you, so early in the morning?’

‘No. Come on and see for yourself !’

They took him to a fountain that flowed into a big stone basin. Inside were gorgeous fish of a golden-red hue with long tails as transparent as veils, wondrous creatures indeed. Metellus watched them swimming around for a while, then asked, ‘Where’s Daruma?’

‘He’s with Quadratus and the others down there, near those trees.’

‘I must speak with him,’ he said, and walked, followed by the other Romans, towards the group that was standing around a beautiful tree in a little orchard. Big round fruits, golden-coloured as well, hung from the tree.

‘Can you eat them?’ asked Antoninus.

‘Of course,’ replied Daruma. ‘Taste one. They’re ripe.’

Antoninus picked a fruit and sank his teeth into it, but immediately spat it out, swearing. ‘Ugh! It’s bitter. It stings my tongue! You’ve poisoned me!’

Daruma shook his head, smiling slyly. He picked another fruit, peeled it and showed them the inside, a kind of large juicy grape divided into slices which he separated and handed out to the men.

Metellus tasted a piece. ‘It’s heavenly! The best fruit I’ve ever had in my life,’ he said. ‘But what is it?’

‘It’s an orange. It’s the symbol of fairness, because nature has divided it into absolutely equal parts, so that everyone can have exactly what the others have.’

‘What about these?’ asked Septimius, pointing to a similar fruit with an oval shape and a brilliant yellow colour. ‘Are they good?’

‘Of course,’ replied Daruma again. ‘Taste it.’

‘You won’t fool me this time,’ replied Septimius, beginning to peel the fruit.

‘I see you learn quickly,’ commented Daruma in satisfaction.

Septimius put two big slices into his mouth and his face contracted all at once into a grimace of disgust. ‘Ugh! It’s awful!’ he shouted, spitting it out.

‘It’s only different,’ replied Daruma. ‘You just have to get used to it.’ He took the fruit from Septimius’s hands, detached a slice and ate it with pleasure. ‘It’s a bit more acidic and a little bitter, but it has many virtues, as do many other bitter things.’

Metellus continued scouting around until he found Severus at work in the village forge.