A Traveler at the Gates of Wisdom

by John Boyne

  And so I was left with no choice but to remain at her command and hope that, someday, something might happen that would see my fortunes change.

  * * *

  • • •

  For all her own infidelities, Li Fengniang hated the fact that her husband maintained a harem of concubines in the palace who served at his pleasure with just as much dedication as I served at hers. Most of these young women were quiet but friendly and I had grown close to one in particular, a girl named Shun, whom I had first met soon after my arrival in the city, when I discovered her alone and weeping in the gardens of the palace. Since then, we’d enjoyed several pleasant encounters and I found her an intriguing presence, although she seemed cautious of revealing too much of herself to me. As yet, all I knew of her story was that she had been brought to Lin’An as a concubine when the Emperor had been passing through her village and happened to see her standing at the roadside. Enamored, he’d instructed one of his soldiers to take her to the capital and, of course, like all his subjects, she had no choice but to obey.

  There was another girl, Huang, who had a certain authority to her bearing, for it was well known that Guangzong favored her above all others. Certainly, she was a great beauty with a tender singing voice, so perhaps it was no surprise that the Emperor enjoyed her company. Every night as the sun began to set, Huang would stand on the balcony that overlooked the central courtyard and sing Plum Blossom Melodies, ostensibly to the province but, in reality, to the Emperor, who would sit by the fountain, lost in pleasure as he allowed his beloved’s voice to seep into the depths of his soul.

  “The Empress loathes her,” Shun told me one afternoon as we took a tour of the formal gardens together. “She tolerates the rest of the concubines because she knows her husband would barely notice if any of them lived or died but she despises the fact that Guangzong has an emotional attachment to Huang that he has to none other.”

  That part of the palace where the concubines lived was ruled over by Ui, a noblewoman who, for some time, had been engaged in an inexplicable romance with my brother. I found Ui to be difficult company, for she had a dispiriting nature and rarely washed, her malodorous nature proving an inexplicable aphrodisiac to Jiao-long. She and I, along with Jiao-long and Shun, were seated by a fountain in the gardens one afternoon, the wind blowing in a westerly direction so Ui’s stench floated toward my brother, who was sniffing at her like a dog investigating its next meal, when she recounted just how much the imperial couple loathed each other.

  Although she professed to hate gossip, Ui was one of its greatest practitioners and told us of an incident that had taken place that morning when Li Fengniang had come into the Emperor’s bedchamber while the concubine Huang was still present and flown into a rage. The girl had run naked from the room, weeping like a child, while Ui, listening at the door, overheard the Empress insisting of her husband that he abandon his concubines forever and live a faithful life.

  “A ridiculous idea,” he laughed. “Every emperor in the history of our country has taken concubines to his bed. Why would I be the first not to follow in this tradition?”

  “Because I cannot stand to be anyone’s inferior!” she roared.

  “You have your men,” he told her. “Why should I not have my women? We cannot be left to sleep with only each other, surely? You loathe me, and I cannot bear the sight of you.”

  “You make a good point, Husband,” she replied, considering this. “But it’s one thing to fornicate with concubines. Another to fall in love with one.”

  “Fall in love?” he asked, laughing. “And with whom am I supposed to have fallen in love?”

  “Huang!” she screamed. “Don’t treat me like a fool. I don’t like her, and I don’t trust her. She fails to treat me with the respect to which my position entitles me. All the court knows how you sit in the gardens every evening listening to her croak her dirges. It’s a humiliation to me.”

  The Emperor shook his head. While he gave in to both his wife and mother on almost every matter relating to the court, this was one area where he was determined to remain master. His encounters with Huang, after all, were the happiest moments of his days and he was not prepared to give them up for anyone, least of all a wife who treated him with such contempt.

  “So what would you have me do?” asked Guangzong, infuriated by her pointless jealousy.

  “Chop her head off!”

  “Never!”

  “Pluck her eyes out and sever her ears!”

  “No!”

  “Refuse to see her!”

  “Impossible!”

  “Send her back to her people!”

  “I will not!”

  “You would defy your wife?”

  “I would!”

  At which point Li Fengniang flung herself on the bed and wrapped her hands around the Emperor’s throat, throttling him, leading Ui to run into the room, followed by four of Guangzong’s bodyguards, who dragged his angry wife away, leaving him nursing his bruised neck and weeping like an infant girl, a humiliation that only made Li Fengniang burst out laughing.

  “Fine, Husband,” she declared, brushing away the men who were doing their best to restrain her. “If you will not take care of this matter, then I will do so myself.”

  “And what did she mean by that?” asked Jiao-long, nuzzling his face into Ui’s fetid shoulder.

  “Who knows?” replied Ui. “That woman has no more sense than a grasshopper. She’s liable to do anything to get her way.”

  “I pity the Emperor,” he replied, shaking his head. “Being spoken to like that, and by a woman, no less! And I feel great sympathy for you, Brother, being forced to satisfy that she-wolf’s desires whenever she demands it.”

  I glanced toward Shun, who blushed at his remark. I supposed that it was common knowledge that I was regularly summoned to the Empress’s bed, but it was not something that I liked to speak about.

  * * *

  • • •

  A few nights later, to my astonishment, Li Fengniang suggested that I might be permitted to leave Lin’An after all.

  “I’ve been giving it some thought,” she said, relaxing on a window seat that was decorated with symbols of fire, earth, wind and water, as she tapped a painted nail against her chin. It was clear that she was enjoying the power she wielded over me. “I realize that I’m being a little unfair to you. It’s true that when you first joined my entourage you were clear about your plans so you’ll have to forgive me if I became so attached to you that I didn’t want to lose you. But I see now that I’ve been selfish.”

  I stared at her, waiting to see whether she was playing some cruel trick on me or whether she actually meant it.

  “Daughter of Heaven!” I exclaimed, dropping to my knees and kissing her feet. “The brightest beam from the morning sun! Your generosity is extraordinary. I am most profoundly grateful to you and when I find my malignant cousin, Hai, and end that longstanding relationship between his head and body, I will sing your name forever in eternal glory.”

  “Of course,” she continued, holding a hand in the air to still my gratitude. “For me to let you go is a great sacrifice on my part. And I hope that you will show your gratitude to me in return.”

  “Without delay,” I replied, standing up to undo the buttons of my trousers. I had already lowered them to my knees when she shook her head, laughing, and instructed me to stop.

  “Not that,” she said. “At least, not now. No, I have a far more important request to make of you.”

  “Anything, Exalted One. Speak your words and I shall fly to my task with the speed of one thousand horses.”

  “The rooms at the top of the palace, where the concubines live,” she said. “You are familiar with them?”

  “I know where they are, of course. But I have never visited them. They are forbidden to me.”

 
“But you’ve stood below and looked up toward the rooftop?”

  “I have, Magnificence.”

  “Then you will know the balcony where that daughter of a mountain goat, Huang, stands every evening to sing the foul lullabies that pollute the air and draw blood from the ears of innocent souls. They extend across the grounds of the palace and my husband, Guangzong, fool that he is, sits by the fountain, listening as she serenades him, his expression embarrassing all who look in his direction.”

  I nodded. I had often hidden in the shadows myself at those times, for it was a pleasure to hear Huang, a skilled songstress, give voice to some of our ancient melodies.

  “The railing on that balcony,” she continued. “I would like it to be loosened. For some of the nails to be pulled from the walls.”

  I frowned. “But if that were to happen—”

  “If that were to happen, all it would mean was that a railing had come loose, nothing more. The man who loosened it would not be responsible for any calamity that might later befall a person who happened to lean against it. You are anxious to leave Lin’An and to pursue your quest for vengeance, are you not? Well, this is how you can achieve your goal. Can I rely on you to do this?”

  I felt my heart sink within my chest as my good angels did battle with my bad, but finally I shook my head. “No,” I said. “If I were to do such a thing, and if someone were to fall, then I would surely be as responsible for that person’s death as if I had pushed them myself.”

  “It wouldn’t mean anything of the sort.”

  “With respect, Radiance, it would.”

  “How disappointing,” she replied with a sigh after a lengthy pause. “But, on the other hand, it does mean that I will get to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh with you for many more years to come. Perhaps for the rest of our lives? We can grow old together here. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing?”

  “Please, Greatest Star in the Firmament,” I protested, dropping to my knees.

  “Silence!” she shouted. “I make one simple request of you and yet you refuse me. So why should I grant your wishes? No, we will forget this conversation ever took place and you and I will return to our previous arrangement. Undress immediately, dog. I have a peculiar fantasy that I want to share with you. It might sound a little distasteful at first, even contrary to the laws of nature, but it rather excites me.”

  * * *

  • • •

  And so, to my eternal shame, I decided to do what she asked of me. Two mornings later, when the concubines were partaking of the baths, I ascended to the top floor of the palace, stealing along the corridor to the great room where they sat at their sewing in the evenings before the Emperor summoned some to his bedchamber. My heart pounded in my chest in a mixture of fear and self-loathing, but I told myself over and over that I was doing nothing more than loosening a few screws and that whatever happened afterward was outside of my control.

  The balcony was very easy to access and the view that it offered across the palace grounds spectacular. Looking down, I could see where Guangzong sat every evening as he listened to the voice of his favorite concubine and, taking care to ensure that my work was completed quickly, I did as I had been instructed, removing some of the screws entirely while loosening some others. Putting them in my pocket, I made my way back out to the corridor when, to my dismay, I heard a voice calling out from behind me. A familiar, if unpleasant, stench drifted my way.

  “What are you doing here?” cried Ui, the Mistress of Concubines, who was standing before me now with a frown on her face.

  “I was lost,” I said.

  “Lost? Here? An unlikely story. I hope you weren’t trying to ingratiate yourself with one of the concubines. You know what the penalty for that is, don’t you?”

  I nodded, muttering an apology, and perhaps out of loyalty to my brother, she dismissed me with a contemptuous flick of her wrist, saying that we would speak of it no more, and walked away, turning into the corridor out of sight. Removing the screws from my pocket now, I stared at them, finally appreciating the gravity of what I had done. I was desperate to leave the capital, of course I was, but surely an innocent girl’s life was too high a price to pay for my freedom? Crying out in frustration, I released myself from the curse that Li Fengniang had put upon me and marched back toward the concubines’ room, then out to the balcony once again, determined to secure the railing. However, I had barely started upon my repairs when I heard noises coming from outside the room and, looking around, I saw the concubines, fresh from their baths and wearing clean robes, walking through the door. They stopped as one in surprise, for a man was almost never admitted to these quarters, putting their hands to their mouths as they wondered whether they should laugh or scream.

  I bowed, begging their forgiveness for invading their sacred space, and unfortunately for me, Ui chose this moment to reappear, ushering me out as she roared that this was my last warning, and the next time she discovered me there, she would report me to the head of the Imperial Guard, who would have no hesitation in removing my eyes from my head.

  “Wait,” I said, for I knew that the balcony was still unsafe. “You must tell Huang not to—”

  “I’ll tell no one anything,” she said, pushing me toward the staircase. “Be gone, you debauched creature, or you might not live to see the morning.”

  * * *

  • • •

  An hour later, I stood in the shadow of the trees watching as the Emperor took his usual place and stared up, waiting for his beloved Huang to appear. When she did, I held my breath in anticipation, hoping that the railing might hold until I could return the following day to complete my repairs. When the girl finished her first song and leaned forward, looking out across the city, all seemed well and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Her second song was even more beautiful than her first and when she came to an end, she looked down, smiled, and blew a kiss toward her beloved Emperor. Typically, she sang only two songs, but tonight he called up, asking for one more, and as her voice rose in melody once again, I noticed another figure appear in the courtyard, on the opposite side to me, looking up with as much anticipation as Guangzong or I. It was the Empress, of course, my despised lover, and she didn’t flinch when the songbird began her tune.

  At that same moment, a crack of lightning sounded from above, the concubine startled, the balcony shook, the railing fell forward and she toppled after it one hundred feet, her body crashing immediately to the ground, her broken limbs splayed at unnatural angles from her body, her blood spilling at the feet of the Lord of Ten Thousand Years.

  GREECE

  A.D. 1223

  I SPENT THE FOLLOWING WEEK alone in a small, dark cell, starving and dehydrated, with only a family of rats for company, cursing both my inexcusable selfishness and my inexplicable stupidity. As my brother’s patron, Gergo Aquilo had welcomed me into his villa and I had abused his hospitality by allowing his wife to seduce me and become part of her plot to kill his mistress.

  Perhaps traveling with such destructive and murderous ambitions in mind had caused me to forget my true nature, but if I felt a deep sense of shame over my actions, it was as nothing compared to the anger I felt toward Lieke. My waking hours were devoted to pacing my cell, cursing her name and influence, and it was only at moments of profound self-reflection that I was willing to take responsibility for my actions and accept that I had no one to blame for my downfall but myself. I now had the deaths of four people on my conscience. How had I allowed such a thing to happen?

  Gergo, the wealthiest spice trader in Greece, had been good to me from the start, even rewarding me for keeping his wife safe on her recent pilgrimage by commissioning me to create a mosaic on the wall of his house. And while I had been desperate to leave, the work had pleased me, for it had been a long time since I’d had the opportunity to indulge my passion. I created an image of the twelve class
ical gods of Greek history, using tiny pieces of fractured glass and stone to bring them to life.

  “Tell me, Master Craftsman,” Gergo said only a few days before my imprisonment as I worked on a standing figure of Dionysus, the god of the grape harvest, whom I depicted in the act of feeding his produce to a prostrate Demeter, “how does a man with such skills end up roaming the countryside when he should be spending his days devoted to his art?”

  “It is a story of some length and complication,” I replied, understating things considerably. “Suffice to say that my life has been a mixture of the simple and the problematic. Thrice I have loved and thrice I have lost. Grief has been an all too familiar companion to me and there are stains upon my soul that are difficult to cleanse.”

  “You married each of these women?”

  “Only two.”

  “You had children with them?”

  “Yes, but none have survived.”

  “Lieke and I were never blessed with sons or daughters,” he told me, looking down at the ground with a sorrowful expression on his face. “I wish it had been different. My mother has always blamed my wife for this. Perhaps you’ve noticed they are not the best of friends.”

  I declined to answer, assuming the statement was rhetorical, but yes, it had been obvious to me since my arrival in Athens that Gergo’s mother and wife were locked in an eternal battle to see who could assert the most control over him. I added a piece of turquoise glass into the bunch of grapes and felt a burst of guilt at how I was making a cuckold of this unfortunate man, for I liked him and he had been good to me. From the villa nearby came the sound of singing as a young woman accompanied herself on the kithara and Gergo lit up, for it was his beloved Hermione, with whom he was infatuated and whose death I would facilitate before the sun had risen and set many more times.