Field of Mars (The Complete Novel) (33 page)

Orders were issued that the legionaries were to present themselves to the Xiongnu monarch as if on parade review. Feverish activity ensued hours before dawn on the final day of the march. Whores were sent packing to the baggage train. Men washed, beards removed, holes in tunics mended, helmets and shields were polished till they gleamed, and animal pelts were worn only by those whose rank and station permitted it.

A couple of hours after sunrise, led by General Saikan and Rufinius on horseback, and accompanied by the numerous Xiongnu riders who might yet prove to be friend or foe, the 5,000 crossed through the last of the low mountain passes, beneath the watchful gaze of horse archers holding the high ground. They marched two centuries abreast onto a broad grassy plain spotted with red and purple wildflowers and light snow that stretched as far as the eye could see. Also scattered across their path as numerous as the wildflowers were herds of thick-haired cattle nosing around for grass. Beyond one such herd could be seen several squadrons of horsemen – flying banners of various colors – riding forth to meet the legion.

Many of the horse archers that had accompanied General Saikan, along with those who had met the legion at the Amu Darya, surged ahead of the column to meet up with their countrymen. Other Xiongnu riders came from every direction to get a closer look at the Roman legion.

“What are we to expect?” Rufinius asked Saikan somewhat pensively as more and more Xiongnu warriors were flying toward them, drawn by the unusual pageantry of an army marching uncontested at its very doorstep.

“I would ensure your men keep their swords sheathed,” he replied, a smile on his face that seemed at odds with his apprehensive demeanor.

“They will not reach for their weapons unless so ordered, General.”

“Good. I fear a misstep would end in tragedy.”

The movements of the Xiongnu were far from welcoming. Many small groups of riders flashed past the column at full gallop, their demeanor threatening, with their hands off the reins and bows at the ready. Along with Saikan, Rufinius also thought it best to smile and wave. “Cornicen Magnus,” he called out. “Play a tune on your cornu.”

“A tune, Tribune?”

“That’s what I said. Something joyous.”

Magnus tentatively lifted his instrument to his lips and blew a simple well-known theme with a beat that matched the legionaries’ marching cadence. He repeated it several times until, from the ranks, rose the voices of the men chanting the well-known ribaldry:

Barabbus left his wife with slave

Barabbus left his wife with slave

And asked of them to please behave

And asked of them to please behave

No sooner was he gone from sight

No sooner was he gone from sight

Than slave and wife did fuck all night

Than slave and wife did fuck all night

“What do they sing?” asked Saikan over the legion in full cry.

“A simple love song,” Rufinius replied, waving at a number of riders with the look of an official delegation about them.

The sound of 5,000 men singing had done its job, changing the expressions on the Xiongnu faces whirling about the column from one of displeasure to that of puzzlement. Here and there riders had simply reined in their horses to better listen to the strange-looking men whose manner and dress were utterly foreign to them.

The squadrons of horsemen that had ridden across the plain to meet the Romans duly arrived and swarmed around the head of the column, wheeling their horses this way and that in a disciplined display of control. These horsemen were an impressive sight, thought Rufinius. Each warrior’s dress, though mostly animal pelts, had the look of a uniform being well stitched into a long coat over a thickly padded and quilted jacket. On each head was a cap of wool, topped with a steel crown, with flaps that flew loose around the ears that could be tied beneath the chin when the weather proved adverse. Bows were worn slung over backs and a hilted sword and a javelin, as well as a quiver thick with arrows, hung from each saddle.

Words were exchanged between Saikan and the leader of the escort that had met them at the river, who had remained behind to accompany the general and Rufinius. This man had a heavy black beard beneath deep-set black eyes and the constant look of displeasure on his face.

Saikan leaned across to Rufinius and shouted, “I am only now told that Chanyu Zhizhi is coming to meet with us personally.”

“Is that good or not so good?” replied Rufinius.

“We will find out soon enough.”

The general motioned into the distance where a full cohort of riders clad all in white appeared, approaching at a gallop, scattering a large flock of grazing sheep. Indeed, it appeared that an army was approaching. As it drew nearer and more detail became available, well over a thousand banners were seen to be fluttering above the King’s horsemen, all of whom rode white horses.

“Behold Chanyu Zhizhi’s personal guard,” said Saikan.

*

Appias shivered in the back of the wagon as it bumped over tufts of grass that grew thicker than the rest. Feiyan was in attendance and concerned by a fever that had come only that morning to her patient. Lifting the thick pelt across his chest, she examined the fly larvae feasting on the pus that had lately returned to the wound and removed it, the scab now clean.

“What can you see?” Appias called out, his teeth chattering, straining to look through a gap in the canvas shrouding the wagon. But the only view was the usual procession of slow-moving baggage train carts and wagons following behind.

“A wide plain with many horse archers,” Lucia said, seated somewhere behind his head, holding the reins with Mena beside her. “There is also something of an encampment and too many horses, cattle, and sheep to count.”

Appias lay back again, his teeth chattering, cursing the feeling of helplessness that ruled his days and prevented him from witnessing this historic occasion of the meeting of two peoples from opposite ends of the earth.

“I don’t think we are welcome,” Lucia added. “There are plenty of bows with arrows notched also.”

As compensation, Appias watched Feiyan as she worked on him and realized that she was no longer a foreigner to his eyes. More than that, her fine features were intensely pleasing to him. Feiyan felt his eyes on her, looked at him and smiled briefly before returning to her duties, returning the animal skins around him.

Appias felt the urge to cough and grabbed some air before the attack overwhelmed him, the sound rattling in his lungs as he convulsed. The coughing spell, which lasted too long, left him drained and weak. Feiyan wiped the corner of his lips, removing a smear of mucous.

“Am I dying?” he asked.

“What did you say?” asked Lucia.

“I said, am I dying …?” he repeated, louder the second time.

After several long seconds, Lucia called out, “Mena says no. She says you’re going to outlive us all.”

Appias took a deep breath and let it out. Mena knew no more than he did about what would come to pass. How could any mortal read the future like it was history already written? It made no sense. Appias closed his eyes and tried to stop his teeth chattering. He felt movement nearby and opened his eyes to see the last of Feiyan’s clothing slip from her body. He looked at her, eyes wide. What was she doing?

Feiyan lifted the animal skin, slid beneath it and wrapped her legs and arms around his body, her chest pressed against his own. He looked down on her face lying on his good shoulder and, past the initial shock, felt the warm glow of her body gradually seep into his skin so that his shivering abated. Feiyan smelled clean and her breath was pleasing and there was nothing he could do to prevent his cock from growing, rising so that it nudged against her leg. The woman herself became aware of it. She looked up into his eyes, smiled, and moved her hips so that Appias slid inside her warmth. And the mystery concerning Han women first raised by Fabianus was, for Appias at least, resolved.

*

“Cornicen. Sound the order to halt,” Rufinius shouted. “Once standards are raised, sound and execute.”

Magnus repeated the instructions and brought the cornu to his lips. The signal was repeated down the line. Within a dozen paces, the vast caravan accompanied by the legion came to a stop. The breeze snapping at loose clothing also carried the thunder of the approaching horde to the legionaries. Those in the First Century’s front lines with a view forward glanced at each other with apprehension.

“Why stand around like ass-licking ducks in the shallows, waiting to be skewered,” Libo muttered, fingering the handgrip on his shield, the approaching cavalry bearing down on them.

“Put a cock in it,” Dentianus snapped, though he was every bit as tense, aware that false moves could start a bloodbath. “Concentrate instead on how luscious does this soft grassland feel underfoot.”

“
My feet are frozen,
” 
Carbo complained.

In the center of the white horsemen coming toward them, Rufinius spied a splash of red. It was a rider, a bull of a man with a vast bright red beard wearing a long red coat over a tunic of padded red silk. The man rode atop a jet-black stallion that towered above all others. Chanyu Zhizhi.

“The red dragon on a field of white,” Rufinius observed to himself.

The royal Xiongnu contingent slowed to a canter and then a trot as it closed the distance. Finally, the white horsemen stopped and the red Dragon King rode slowly forward. Saikan walked his horse out to meet with him. When close enough to speak, the general dismounted and lay face down on a patch of snow in supplication. The breeze was such that their words were carried to Rufinius.

“Guli Saikan of the Left,” Zhizhi boomed. “You have your Chanyu’s permission to rise and speak. Tell me of this army you have bought in my name and with my wealth.”

“Great Chanyu, these are soldiers, legionaries, from the conquering Empire of the Romans, who hold sway over much of the world where the sun sets. They are fearsome in hand-to-hand combat and rely on their swords. They are also builders and engineers who erect fortifications in rapid time.”

“What use have I of an army that does not ride on the horse’s back? They would be slow and cumbersome.”

“On the plains certainly this is true, great and wise Chanyu, where Xiongnu horsemen reign supreme. But there is also much terrain which does not suit the horse and it is there that the Roman legionaries are unsurpassed.”

“They are slaves?”

“Yes, great Chanyu.”

“How do you know they will not kill you when you sleep and so be free of their master?”

“I have traveled with them for three seasons and there was opportunity enough to slay me, but I yet live. In your name, great Chanyu, I have also bought their loyalty with the promise of freedom after fifteen years of service, as well as land, a small portion of what their sword arms will conquer for your glory.”

“You promise too much.” Zhizhi sat back in the saddle and pondered the countless row upon row of gleaming plumed helmets, red saga, and shields adorned with steel scales that flashed in the sun. “I see they carry arms marching on my lands and the lands of my vassals.”

“Yes, Chanyu. The weapons are for ceremonial purposes.”

“What if your slaves decided on a different purpose?”

“I know their mettle and they have no ill intentions toward the Xiongnu nation or its people. Rather, they desire to be commanded by you to win glory for your name and kill your enemies.”

Zhizhi grunted, seemingly unimpressed. “Word has reached my ears that you collected much Han silk and other treasures on your long journey.”

“Yes, great and wise Chanyu.” Saikan bowed again.

Zhizhi continued to regard the Roman centuries. “Does this slave army have a leader?”

“It does, great Chanyu.”

“Tonight you will present him to me in the great hall, along with the treasures that may cost me and the Xiongnu their homes and empire. Favored guli or not, I will then decide whether to have you quartered and your head spiked.” Zhizhi, scowling, turned his horse violently away and galloped back through the ranks of his guard, which parted before him.

*

For several hours, the legion marched across the plain through flocks of sheep and herds of cattle, as well as countless warrior horsemen practicing their warcraft with bow and arrow and lance. Eventually they passed villages – collections of small numbers of round huts made from animal skins that could be easily packed away and moved on carts, the spaces between them occupied by pigs and goats tendered by women and children.

And then the city of Talas itself came into view, visible from some distance, not because of its magnificence but because it sprawled carelessly across the plain. On its western side were massive stables, enclosures, and races for thousands of animals that no doubt made up the Chanyu’s herds.

Here, many trails across the plain converged into a main roadway of beaten earth that snaked across the plain toward the city. Beside the road were the remains, in various stages of decay, of more than a dozen men, their bearded heads on spikes, their crimes unrecorded, the Xiongnu being averse to writing.

As the legion marched closer still and more detail revealed itself, the Xiongnu city was unlike any Roman one the men were familiar with, being almost devoid of permanent buildings and with no baths, colosseums, paved roads, government buildings, or temples built to the gods in sight. It seemed just a grander version of the smaller outlying villages, with large numbers of circular huts clustered around a single central construction that towered over all. This building was enormous in size, round in shape like the domiciles, and crowned by scores of the Chanyu’s white and red banners, so that, from a distance it seemed a flock of birds was lifting from its heights.

Soon thousands of Xiongnu streamed from the city, drawn by the spectacle of the legion as it marched, directed by the escort to flat grassland beyond the city. This area was bordered by a small tributary that fed into a much larger river. Once arrived, words were again exchanged between Saikan and the escort’s commander.