The Challenge of the Legion

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The Challenge of the Legion Page 3

by Oscar Luis Rigiroli


  Everything, hills, streets and houses had the same ocher color and a light wind that raised dust of the roads gave to the set an aspect that was somewhat depressing to the traveler accustomed to the polychrome landscapes of the Chinese tourist circuits.

  Liqian, now called Zhelaizhai, is located in the northern province of Gansu and as stated lies on the eastern edge of the Gobi Desert, of which it is actually part.

  A tractor passed and turned a corner, dragging a wagon with three people on board, and the raised dust took a few seconds to settle. Suddenly Lian lightly touched Ivo's arm and motioned to a child playing on his knees in front of the door of his house. Both of them approached trying to go unnoticed so as not to alarm the boy and the Italian watched astonished his hair of a completely unusual gold color in China. Lian walked over and patted the boy's head, who after a moment of hesitation got up and obviously frightened ran into his home. After a moment a woman appeared in the door carrying the little boy. Lian approached and spoke with the woman for a few moments, after which both ended up laughing in a very common way in Chinese women.

  Lian approached Ivo and said exultant.

  "Welcome to Liqian, the last stronghold of the lost legion. A Roman territory in the midst of China.

  Chapter 3

  Lian and Ivo spent the following two days touring the village and its surroundings and interviewing almost all the villagers. The distinctive physiognomic differences with ethnic Han Chinese were remarkable. In fact, they were notably taller, their hair and beards were often brown, blond or red, their eyes blue or green. The features in general were Eastern, fruit of a prolonged crossbreeding during a period of two millennia. Lian needed an interpreter to communicate with most of the locals, since they did not speak Mandarin Chinese or any of the dialects that the anthropologist understood, coming mostly from the south of China. The local teacher offered to perform as a translator.

  The story repeated with each of the testimonies of the settlers. All were aware of their physical differences with the Chinese outside the village, and attributed it to the arrival, long but they ignored how many years before, of very tall warriors, with red hair and beard, clear eyes and great muscle strength. These foreigners had taken wives among the women of the nomadic tribes that wandered about the place, who willingly accepted both the husky husbands and the sedentary life they had not known before. According to the colorful narratives, each warrior had taken several wives so that the population had rapidly increased and had expanded outside the village. There was no doubt that their own distinctive physical characteristics were a source of pride for the villagers. Ivo photographed and filmed both the landscapes and the testimonies translated by Lian and the teacher, in order to document all findings they were to make on the trip.

  The two investigators toured the area's alleged archaeological remains, which were reduced to some walls of earth and stones united by some undetermined mortar that the course of the centuries had solidified.

  "These are the only remains that are." Lian explained. "There are no coins, no broken pots or pieces of fabric that can be attributed to an undoubted Roman or European in general origin, so logically there are controversies over the whole Legion issue. Some historians prefer to attribute the obvious Caucasoid features to later Venetian merchants and travelers.”

  "What do you think of that alternative theory?" Asked Ivo.

  "I do not rule out that your merchant ancestors have come here, since this place is near one of the main routes of the Silk Road. But I do not think their number could have originated such a large progeny. To explain that it would have been necessary the settlement of a large contingent of men , such as a century or even a Roman cohort.”

  "Besides, the features do not correspond to those of the Venetians, who were generally of a Latin type.” Answered Ivo. “Here the ethnic influence seems to come from the Gauls and Germans, very numerous in the Roman legions. That could explain the presence of so many villagers with blond or red hair ... twenty centuries later.”

  The young man stayed silent for a moment and then asked.

  "What can you tell me about the Silk Road? That is also a catching theme, of great historical interest.”

  "We can talk more about it later. For me it also has a personal interest since I come from a part of China located squarely on the Route, more to the south and west than the place where we are. Now I want us to go to Yongchang, where we passed by as we came and then to Lanzhou, the capital of the province located about 300 kilometers from here. There we can visit the museum, where there are some interesting elements.”

  The visit to the museum was brief and did not yield definitive results for the ongoing research. Several skeletons taller than those of the Han people had been found during the construction of a road years earlier and one of them, that had belonged to a man of more than six feet tall was displayed in a showcase. The exposed metal and ceramic objects were of undoubted Chinese origin, and none of them made could be related to a Roman or European in general origin

  Exhausted by travel Lian and Ivo took up rooms in a good-looking hotel as Lanzhou offered amenities for travelers, including some Asian tourists who sporadically arrived. Anyway, Ivo had not seen any other Westerner since his departure from Beijing.

  After washing, resting for a couple of hours and changing their clothes the young couple met in the hotel's restaurant offering a varied menu of Chinese and international food. After having the dessert the conversation revolved around the findings they had made in the course of their entire trip, which turned it into a sort of summary of it.

  "There is no evidence of historical value that supports the legend of the Roman origin of Liqian," Ivo observed with a hint of skepticism.

  "Not from the archaeological point of view.” Admitted the woman. “There are no objects of Roman origin or ruins specifically of that origin.” She stopped and added. “The signs are rather living. The appearance and genes of the population which makes us presume a European origin of 56% of them. In addition, some credit should be given to local traditions. It would be very difficult to believe that a human ensemble would invent for itself such a distant lineage in time and space. There is nothing that connects the Roman Republic with this part of China.”

  "There are no remote Indo-European populations in the vicinity?" asked Ivo.

  “Very faraway, in Siberia. The whole environment is purely Asian in a very large radius. In addition you have the issue of the origin of the name of the town itself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  "The defenders of Roman theory derive the name Liqian from the word Legion.”

  "They are all circumstantial indications," Said Ivo the man finally. Then he made a gesture that reflected his intention to change the subject.

  “Tell me more about you. Not only biographical data, tell me something about your family, your childhood, your studies.”

  "I notice you are interested." The girl answered somewhat surprised, with a hint of flattery.

  “Very interested. Look, I cannot hide the fact that I like you ... I really like you very much." The man's voice revealed a certain emotion when referring to Lian.

  "I notice a touch of Italian gallantry in action."

  The youth were sitting on either side of a rather narrow table in the restaurant. The waitress had already removed the profusion of saucers and there were only two cups of aromatic tea between them. Ivo slid the fingers of his left hand between the fingers of the young woman's hand. Once again the close contact and the chemical messengers of the nervous system produced them in pleasant stinging. Lian did not withdraw her hand.

  Chapter 4

  Serene Republic of Venice- 1538

  He jumped out of bed when it was still dawn. The boy had dreamed all night and he was surprised that he could sleep at all with the state of excitement that had invaded him since three days before when his parents had finally consented to allow him to accompany Uncle Andrea, his mother's brother, on the voyage he had prepa
red to Far East and to which he had invited him three months ago. The expedition sailed that afternoon aboard a freighter owned by the Dandolo family and the boy had already prepared his luggage, struggling with his mother who tried to load him with all kinds of things.

  At sixteen Cosimo Badoer was preparing for the adventure of his life.

  Tiziana Bembo was exhausted. She had helped his son to prepare his luggage for his trip and did not share the boy's enthusiasm. She remembered too well the stories in her family related to trips to the Far East, the two cousins who had never returned and the shock of his mother when his father and brother left with that destination. She knew of the dangers due to the pirates infesting the eastern Mediterranean Sea, the fanatical Islamists of the Near East and the savage tribes beyond Persia. At best Tiziana also knew that she would not see her first-born son in the next five years. Her thoughts were filled with sadness and she was trying to keep herself occupied only to keep them away. She sent a servant to look for Cosimo immediately. When the boy appeared at the door he asked.

  "Mother, did you call me?"

  Tiziana sighed, there was no doubt that the young man did not think of her at all and his head was only occupied by the impending journey. The woman resigned herself. As the eldest son, Cosimo was destined to perpetuate the role of the family in the international trade of the Republic of Venice, activity that for centuries had been the explanation of the wealth the city and their lineage.

  "Yes, come in, I must heal the wound in your back."

  The young man had fallen from a horse ten days before and had been injured in the back suffering a wound that had required stitches.

  Cosimo took off his shirt exposing his white skin; in it the mother could still see the ugly wound not yet completely healed.

  "You must ask Uncle Andrea to have some of his men take care of this wound until it heals completely. Do you promise me to do it?”

  "Yes, Mother.”

  Once the disgusting ointment with an unpleasant odor was applied, Tiziana covered the injury again. Only then hers eyes fell on the dark spot the boy had on his shoulder, more precisely in the area near the base of his neck. It was a symmetrical rhomboid-shaped diamond-like mark that Cosimo had inherited from her, which in turn had inherited it from her father, and so on in a sequence of which Tiziana only knew the three or four most recent generations. With an impulse she kissed the young man's skin.

  The ship swayed gently in the calm waters of the Adriatic Sea as the captain watched nervously the sails now deflated by the sudden calm of the wind. Standing on the prow, Cosimo gazed at the slowly moving Venetian coast and with it his home, his city, and his entire known universe. Also behind was left Beatrice, the blonde beauty who had captured his soul in the last Carnival. In the depths of these sad thoughts, however, shone the expectation created by the adventure that opened before him, still reserved in Venice to a few young men from wealthy families. The boy felt a hand resting on his shoulder, and as he turned he saw the tranquilizing figure of his uncle Andrea, a male figure even closer and stronger than his father´s, always absent in his missions on behalf of the council of overseas merchants, the oligarchy that guided the decisions of the Dux and therefore ruled the Republic Serenissima. Andrea did not utter a word and did not look at his nephew but gazed forward, toward the waters that were opening around the bow, in an attitude that revealed his anxious and fiery personality.

  The farewell of the ship at the docks of the city had brought together all the Venetian elite, including the first-born of the Dux. The ship left with the best auspices of the dominant naval power at the time.

  Returning to the hotel after the walk through the central part of the provincial capital Ivo placed a hand over Lian's shoulder and waited for her reactions. The woman did not protest but she looked to both sides as if somewhat ashamed of what the few passers-by might think. The young man proceeded to withdraw his hand after the failed attempt and the conversation between them ceased from that moment. After entering the hotel and going to their rooms, located on the same floor and separated only by the corridor, Ivo coldly greeted the woman and started to open his door. At that moment Lian touched his arm causing him to turn so they were both watching each other. The girl lifted her face offering her lips and Ivo had to bow his to put their mouths on the same level. Their lips joined and Lian opened the door of her room, dragging the young man behind her.

  Chapter 5

  Andrea Bembo stormed into the room and, seeing the spectacle, wondered whether he should burst with fury or a laugh. Cosimo was completely naked chasing the Persian dancer barely covered by a veil while another Chinese prostitute tugged at his leg trying to drag him to the bed. The boy was alarmed as he saw his uncle and was perplexed for some moments not knowing what to do. The older man regretted having introduced the young man to the brothels of Bukara at his previous stage a month earlier, but he had done so by feeling responsible for his sex education in the absence of the father and friends. The problem was that since then Cosimo had not been able to get rid of those experiences with the sensual Oriental women and when they arrived in Samarkanda his uncle had had to agree to allow them to repeat them in danger of his nephew escaping. All precautions and advice to take precautions against venereal diseases had been useless and the merchant could only hope for the best. Two days after they had to continue on their way to Kokand and needed the young man in one piece.

  Up to that moment the Venetians had found excellent business opportunities and had been able to place most of their goods among their customers- many of them old acquaintances of Andrea of other trips- all the porcelain and glass products manufactured in Venice and its zone of influence, which was suitable since they were the most fragile pieces and that they could suffer the avatars of ruder stages of the trip ahead. In exchange for them they had obtained pearls from the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf, rubies and coral. Now they had only the delicate textile products in wool and linen of Italian manufacture with the expectation of exchanging them for silk fabrics, spices, jade and ivory manufactures from the Celestial Empire.

  The Italians were traveling on the so-called Silk Road, a network of commercial roads that started at the latitude of Damascus to the east of Syria, and passing through Persia, Aria, Bactriana, contoured the Pamir massif and the Taklamakan desert moving into northern China. Innumerable secondary routes started in Italy and Constantinople, Africa, Arabia, India, Korea and Japan, so that the Silk Road connected Europe with the Far East, providing to the worldwide wealthy classes of the time all the best products that their world and their time could offer them, and creating opportunities of making fortune for the merchants of all the zones involved and of Venice in particular.

  Andrea did not deceive him. He knew that from Kokand and especially from Kaschgar they would enter the most turbulent area of their journey since instead of tribes more or less controlled by the local chiefs they would be crossing the confines of the Celestial Empire, populated with bandits of all kinds in permanent conflict with the Chinese with whom the Venetians wanted to trade.

  Resignedly Andrea returned to the room where Cosimo was. He would have to literally tear him out from between the legs of the prostitutes, so much was the taste the boy had taken for the exotic women.

  Ivo woke with the first rays of the sun filtering through the curtains of the window. He realized that Lian slept beside him, and that it was not just a dream prompted by the long-held sexual abstinence since he had left Venice.

  He slid his hand down the sheets, following the outline of the woman's hips-curved enough to be a Chinese female-taking particular care not to wake her as they had had a busy night. His hand returned gently to her shoulders, and as he reached the edge of the sheet, he folded it down leaving her neck exposed. Ivo looked closely at the features of the sleeping girl, the beautiful shape of her face, her chin, her long thin neck, the birth of her shoulders. Suddenly something caught his attention, causing him to jump on the bed. The woman, even without waking up,
moved beneath the sheets as a smile of satisfaction surfaced on her lips. Ivo tried to sharpen his eyesight but found that the light in the room was too scarce. He got up from the bed and moved silently to the window, then slightly slid one of the curtains letting in a little more light, particularly in the area that interested him, but without full illuminating Lian´s face to allow her continue sleeping. He returned to the bed and lay down next to the woman as before. Then, in a tension he could not explain, the man proceeded to lower the sheet until the whole curve of her shoulder was exposed. A shiver ran through his body as he realized that what he had thought he had seen in the half-light before was indeed real. Lian had a dark spot on her right shoulder and the location was exactly the same as Federica's mark, which he knew so well, except that the contrast was less because Lian did not have the very white skin of the Venetian lady. Ivo paid particular attention to the shape of the stain, and the start was transformed into restlessness when he realized that it had indeed a symmetrical shape resembling that of a diamond or rhombus, in a whole similar to that of Federica. Gently he ran a finger over the stain, causing Lian to smile again, now exhaling catlike sounds.

  Perplexed, the young man lay on his back and raised his arms to the height of his head, while his brain worked fast. What was a possible explanation for the fact that the two women who mattered in his live, born thousands of miles away, of completely different ethnic origins and with an age difference of almost two decades, had the same birthmark? A mark of otherwise very rare and improbable appearance due to its symmetry and straight contours. In the case of Federica, the young man already knew that it was a hereditary trait that ran in her family, from who knows how many generations. But in Lian?

 

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