TUN-HUANG (23 page)

At the head of his caravan, Kuang left the Thousand Buddha Caves, leaving Hsing-te, the three monks, and the ten camel men.

After the caravan had gone around the foot of the hill and disappeared from sight, Hsing-te left the men, who had started to build a bonfire, and went up to the cave with the secret hiding-place. He noted that this particular cave toward the north grotto area was the lowest level of a three-storied grotto, and one of the largest among the innumerable stone caves.

Hsing-te was the first to enter the cave. Within, he discovered frescoes of numerous bodhisattvas on the left-hand wall. In the moonlight, which hit the base of the frescoes through the entrance, they appeared to be entirely blue. Most likely, they were painted in various colors, although the paint may have faded. The opposite wall was in darkness and its frescoes were indistinct. Hsing-te had entered cautiously, but it was so dark that he could not see anything, so he gave up. It was apparent that the interior was larger than the entrance. Just then, one of the monks standing behind Hsing-te said, “Here’s a hole.” It was located on the north wall. When the men approached it, they found that there was, indeed, an opening two feet wide by five feet high, big enough for a man to crawl through. It was too dark, however, to see inside.

Hsing-te had somehow thought they could hide the goods during the night. Had they been able to see the interior clearly only once, the task might have been possible, but as it was, the obstacles seemed too great for the four men who stood in front of the cave.

“As things are, we can’t do anything,” said Hsing-te.

“All right, I’ll go in,” the youngest monk volunteered. He crouched over, stuck his head in the cave and looked about and then slowly entered the darkness. For a time there was silence. Finally, he emerged and said, “It’s not damp inside. It will probably be safe to store the sacred scrolls in there. It’s rather spacious inside, but I have no idea of the shape of the room.”

“One of the camel drivers may have a light. Go and ask!”

Another of the monks immediately left the cave. He soon returned with two camel men. One entered the cave with a candle made of sheep’s oil in a pot, and two monks followed him in. The cave was approximately ten feet square, and all four walls had been plastered. It was apparent from the fact that there were frescoes on the north wall, that this was a partially completed side cave. When the light was brought up to the wall, the men saw figures of nuns and attendants standing face to face amidst a grove of trees with several branches hanging down. On the branches were hung water jars and bags which appeared to belong to the people assembled there. The nuns held large fans, while the attendants carried long staffs.

This was indeed an appropriate hiding place, Hsing-te thought. It was probable that the Buddhist scrolls and other documents they had brought would fit in, and as the entrance was small, it would be a simple matter to seal it.

Hsing-te went out and gathered together the camel men and set to work immediately. Three of the men were given the task of opening the crates and removing the scrolls and documents; the other seven were to carry them to the cave; and the three monks would remain in the cave and store them. Hsing-te had decided to have the crates opened because it was difficult to take the boxes through the small entrance, and also because it would require two men for each crate and this seemed inconvenient. In any case, it was essential to store away the goods as soon as possible.

The crates were being opened one after the other. The camel men worked very roughly. Two men picked up a crate, raised it, and dashed it onto the ground. Or they hit the outside with poles or rocks until the crates cracked open. The scrolls and papers inside had all been wrapped into small parcels to avoid damage.

The seven camel men made many trips bringing bundles of sutras to the secret cache. Hsing-te also joined in and helped. Some bundles were heavy, others light. There were small and large ones. Hsing-te and the men, carrying the bundles with both arms, trudged up the shifting, sandy hill, entered the stone cave, handed the bundles to the monks within and then returned. On the way, the men often brushed past others traveling in the opposite direction. No one spoke, and each occupied himself with his work as if this were his heaven-appointed task.

When Hsing-te carried the scrolls and returned empty-handed, he walked with his eyes focused on his dark shadow that moved with him on the sand. Everyone walked slowly. Drowsiness constantly overcame the men. As slow as the progress was, however, there was a certain steadiness in their mechanical, continuous movement. A rough estimate of the number of Buddhist scrolls and documents was in the tens of thousands.

If at all possible, Hsing-te wanted to complete the work before Kuang returned for the second time. If Kuang should arrive while the work was in progress and should learn what was being carried into the secret cache, he would be wild with rage. But Hsing-te had no time for such thoughts now. He decided that if it came to pass, he would handle the situation then.

The mountainous pile of crates gradually dwindled and the pile of wood from the crates grew higher.

The cave was finally filled with scrolls and papers. One of the three monks came out, then the second one appeared, and at the end, the oldest monk remained inside to complete the work.

“All that’s left now is to seal up the entrance,” Hsing-te said. The three monks volunteered to take over the work.

Hsing-te took from his pouch the scroll of the Heart Sutra he had copied and, groping in the dark, placed it in the cave on top of a bundle of sutras. There was now just a very small space left near the entrance of the cave, which was packed with wrapped bundles. As Hsing-te put down the scroll, he felt an emptiness within him, just as if he had cast something into the ocean. At the same time, he felt that what had been with him for years had suddenly been taken out and placed in a secure location. He felt settled again.

One of the monks had brought several stakes from somewhere and had started to stand them up by the cave entrance. Hsing-te left the final plastering of the cave to the three monks and decided to return to the walled city for the moment.

He left the stone caves and went to the open space where the goods had been piled. He found that the camel men had made a fire with the broken crates and were sleeping around it.

Hsing-te vacillated for a moment trying to decide whether to return alone, or to take the men with him. In the end, he decided to have them accompany him. He thought that it might be dangerous to leave them with the monks, as these followers of Kuang might at any time murder them.

As soon as he had awakened the camel drivers, Hsing-te ordered them to depart immediately. Since there was only one camel, Hsing-te rode it, and the camel tenders had to walk. At first the men objected, but they finally complied with his orders. They knew that they were engaged in work from which they would profit enormously, and also that the work had not yet been completed.

By the time Hsing-te had returned to town, the sun was already high. He went to the headquarters at the North Gate only to find that, with the exception of the guards, all the men including the hare-lipped commander were sound asleep. Hsing-te had not slept for two nights in a row and was exhausted, but he forced himself to go to the square where Kuang was supposed to be. Naturally, neither Kuang nor even one of his men was in sight.

Hsing-te left the ten camel drivers he had brought back in a civilian house to rest, while he proceeded directly to the palace with the camel. There was not even a single guard at the palace gate. In the open space just inside, Hsing-te saw numerous camels jostling, but he did not see Kuang or any other members of his caravan.

The palace was empty. Hsing-te went directly to Yen-hui’s audience room. He stood at Yen-hui’s door, but it was quiet inside. Hsing-te thought that he was probably wasting his breath, but nevertheless he called, “Governor!”

“Who’s that?” Yen-hui responded immediately.

“So you’re still here!”

“What is there for me to do but to remain here?”

“What happened to the others?”

“They all left for Qoco at dusk.”

“What happened to all those goods?”

He then heard Yen-hui break out in a strange laughter as if he were about to have a coughing fit. “The stupid fools! They packed up all their possessions, but when it was time to leave, not a single camel or camel driver was around. Those stupid fools!” Yen-hui broke out laughing again. “They finally took only a few personal belongings. Those stupid fools!”

“Has Kuang come here?” Hsing-te inquired.

“Kuang? That blackguard is in the inner chambers.”

“What’s he doing?”

“How should I know?”

Hsing-te left the doorway and walked down the corridor toward the inner chamber.

“Kuang!” Hsing-te called out. As he walked, he called out Kuang’s name from time to time. After he had gone down several hallways he saw the inner courtyard, then a cluster of red flowers, and finally numerous men at work.

When Hsing-te called out “Kuang!” a man quickly turned around and answered “Yes.” It was Kuang. As Hsing-te approached, he saw an enormous pile of wrapped bundles scattered around Kuang and his helpers. Some were ripped open, with their contents spilling out; some were halfopened; other unopened crates lay about in disorder.

“What are you doing?” Hsing-te asked.

“You can see for yourself. There is so much here that one or two hundred camels couldn’t possibly carry them.”

Kuang was checking the contents of the crates that his helpers had opened; curtly he gave specific directions to his men to throw the goods away or to place them in the pile to be loaded. In his present activity, Kuang appeared to be full of energy. But at length the significance of Hsing-te’s presence dawned on him, and his expression suddenly hardened. He asked, “What did you do with the goods?”

“They’ve all been stored away,” Hsing-te replied.

“Good.” Kuang nodded, and apparently dismissed the problem and again became absorbed in his present urgent task. The job would be endless: the possessions of the Ts’ao family not only filled the inner courtyard and its surrounding corridors, but also another wing of the palace.

For a while Hsing-te watched the men working. What useless things they packed, Kuang complained, as he pulled out a huge rug from a large crate. One of his helpers tugged at it. The rug was a splendid item that filled a large area of the courtyard.

“Throw it out!” Kuang bellowed.

Hsing-te left and returned once more to Yen-hui, who sat alone, leaning against one arm of his chair. He felt that he had come from an extremely avaricious, energetic man to a completely different type—an unworldly, apathetic individual.

“Governor!” Hsing-te called out as he entered the chamber. “The fighting will start at any time now. How long do you intend to stay here?”

“If it’s going to start, it doesn’t matter to me when it starts. I’m staying right here.”

“Don’t be so foolish. You must leave right away.”

“Why do you want to take me out of here?”

“Why? A human being should live as long as he can.”

“Should live?” Yen-hui said this as though it were a strange notion. “Do you want to live? Those who want to live will probably live. Now that I think of it, if you’re trying to survive, I’ll give you this.” As he spoke, Yen-hui opened the door of a miniature shrine behind him and took out a scroll. “I’ll give this to you for safekeeping.”

“What is it?” Hsing-te asked, as he accepted the heavy scroll.

“It’s the family history of Regional Commander Ts’ao.”

“And what should I do with it?”

“Just keep it. I’ll leave the rest to you, since you plan to survive. It’s up to you to burn it or throw it out.”

“If that’s the case, I might as well leave it here, mightn’t I?”

“No, that would embarrass me. My brother gave it to me for safekeeping, and I am at a loss what to do with it. I’ll give it to you. I won’t be responsible for it any longer.”

Yen-hui looked as though he had suddenly been relieved of a heavy responsibility and sank again into his seat. He didn’t give another glance at the scroll. Hsing-te felt that a burden had been thrust upon him and was annoyed. He was certain that Yen-hui would not take back the scroll, even if he tried to return it. Since there was nothing he could do, Hsing-te took the scroll and left the palace.

When he returned to his room by his headquarters, he felt nothing mattered any more, and fell at once into bed and went to sleep. Some hours passed. Hsing-te was awakened by a messenger from Wang-li. He went to the door. The sun was high overhead. The sunlight and the silence of the surroundings seemed meaningless to him.

The messenger’s report was simple and brief: “Hsien-shun has died in battle.” That was all. Hsing-te could get no further information from the man other than the fact that Wang-li’s own forces had not yet begun to fight.

He went back to sleep. While he dozed, he had a dream. He was on the edge of a sandy hillock directly facing the setting sun. From there he had a panoramic view of the vast desert stretching out like the sea. All about, low sand hills rose and fell like triangular waves. The one on which Hsiug-te stood was the highest in the area. Looking down, he could see trees below, tiny in the distance, which was hard to estimate.

He was not standing alone. For some time he had been watching Wang-li, who had been looking deeply into his eyes. In the setting sun, Wang-li’s face was a brilliant red; his eyes flashed as if they were on fire.

Suddenly, Wang-li looked at Hsing-te tenderly and told him he had something he wanted to give him. He searched for the Uighur princess’s necklace. It appeared, however, that he had lost it during a fierce battle. “If I am so far gone that I have lost that necklace, then my days are numbered. At this rate, I don’t think I can get Yüan-hao’s head. I regret it very much, but there is nothing I can do about it.”

Just then Hsing-te noticed several arrows were lodged in Wang-li. As he tried to pull them out, Wang-li ordered sternly, “Don’t pull them out!” Then he continued, “I have long thought of an end like this. Watch!” As he spoke, he pulled out his sword, and holding the blade with both hands, he began to push its tip into his mouth.