Empire of Dragons

by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

  ‘What are you saying, Dan Qing?’

  ‘Yes, I believe she loves you. That’s why she stays away from you . . . because she fears you. She fears abandoning herself to an emotion that will once again be denied her. I’m telling you this because it will be Yun Shan who will train you. She will be your teacher and your unrelenting adversary in fencing and the martial arts. Take care, for she may strike you much harder than necessary. But you must understand that we have no choice. I’m afraid that neither I nor Yun Shan can defeat Wei, because neither of us is truly capable of hating him. As you have said, I am to blame for part of his cruelty and his fury. And Yun Shan . . . loved him with the innocent, perhaps unconscious, love of a young girl, and she would not be able to kill him even now with a staunch heart and a steady hand. Only you are capable of defeating him and of restoring the harmony of this country.’

  ‘In the West, in Taqin Guo, the harmony of the land has been shattered as well, by a chain of brutal crimes that has broken my heart. Who will save my country?’

  ‘Don’t think of that now, Xiong Ying. Now you must keep the promise you just made to me and to your comrades, butchered so mercilessly by those monsters. I will try to get information about your country for you. I swear it. Only then can you make your decision.’

  ‘So be it, Dan Qing,’ replied Metellus. ‘Let’s begin now. I can’t wait any longer.’

  THE SPRING PASSED, and the summer, in continuous and exhausting sessions. The masters who took turns in training him were increasingly swifter and more expert and harsher in their blows. Only when they had profoundly transformed him, and he was capable of sensing the intentions of his adversary before he sprang to the attack, was he brought to the great palaestra where the duels were held. It was the first morning of winter of that year of the Dragon, the third day of the second month.

  The relentless drum roll that filled that huge room immersed in semi-darkness died away and a shrill cry burst out all at once. A kick struck him full on the left shoulder and sent him rolling to the ground.

  ‘Defend yourself !’ shouted Yun Shan. ‘If I had wanted to, I could have killed you! Defend yourself !’ she shouted again as her foot flashed through the air.

  He fell again and tumbled between Dan Qing’s feet.

  ‘You must forget she is a woman!’ he told Metellus. ‘She is not a woman: she is an adversary who can kill you. Remember when you used your two swords? You have to use your hands like you used your swords, understand? It’s the only way to beat her.’

  ‘Let’s get down to work now,’ said Yun Shan, and she lunged forward, her hands stretched out taut and ready to strike.

  But Metellus was already back on his feet and he’d understood. He had to put into practice the art he’d been taught by these saintly monks to avoid being wounded by the sword. His naked hands were his weapons. And they darted through the air now, faster and faster: parrying, thrusting, slashing, jabbing.

  But Yun Shan had more surprises. She suddenly dropped to the ground and swiped at him with her foot. Metellus was down again.

  Dan Qing was very close now. ‘You still fight like a barbarian. The force of the spirit is much stronger than that of the body. Watch!’

  Under Metellus’s astonished eyes, Dan Qing put his hands to the floor, kept his head down and stretched his body up, stiff as a rod. He detached one hand from the floor and remained supported by the other. Metellus couldn’t believe his eyes as Dan Qing began to lift one finger after another of the hand still on the floor, until his entire weight rested on his index finger, rigid as a steel bar.

  ‘Teach me,’ he said. ‘Teach me Go Ti.’

  Dan Qing returned to a standing position. ‘This is our most powerful weapon, our most precious secret. No barbarian has ever been instructed at this level of knowledge. Give me a reason why I should do so.’

  ‘Because I’m your friend,’ said Metellus. ‘Because by binding my destiny to yours I lost my comrades. Because I want to avenge them and bring peace to their spirits by killing Wei with my own hands.’

  ‘Will you still insist on judging me?’ asked Dan Qing.

  ‘No, I won’t.’

  ‘And you, sister?’

  Yun Shan bowed her head, still breathing fast and said, ‘Nor will I, brother.’

  ‘Remember,’ said Metellus then, ‘now it seems that I am the needy one, but there will come a time, when you are ready to reclaim your throne, that I will have many things to teach you and your men, things unknown to you that may well decide the fate of the battle.’

  Dan Qing smiled. ‘Why didn’t you save your emperor, then? I saw him on his knees before his enemy. Have you forgotten?’

  ‘It was deceit that defeated us,’ shouted Metellus, beside himself. ‘Not valour! I don’t need you, or your secrets. I will regain my strength on my own, I’ll find that demon and I’ll kill him like a dog. And if I have to die, I will.’ Indomitable passion burned in his eyes.

  Yun Shan approached him. Dan Qing regarded him in silence. In the Roman’s gaze, the prince could see, and perhaps even understand, the virtue of that barbarian.

  ‘Follow me,’ he said.

  31

  A BLADE OF LIGHT carved out their profiles as they sat face to face on their heels. Metellus was no longer uncomfortable in that position, as he had been when he first attempted it in Daruma’s tent at the oasis of Khaboras. They remained like this in silence for an indefinite time, as the light slowly waned away. Until the darkness was total.

  And more time passed, in the absence of sound, in the dearth of light. Metellus no longer needed references; he felt complete within himself. He knew also that he was alone now and he didn’t need to reach out his hand to be able to tell that the space in front of him was empty.

  Dan Qing’s voice rang out, seemingly miles away: ‘Where is your spirit, Xiong Ying?’

  ‘It’s here, within me,’ he answered.

  ‘Where?’ a voice reverberated again. A different voice, which sounded much like Yun Shan’s. At that same instant, a ray of light spilled in from above. Within the cone of light was a monk dressed in black with a red band on his arm who moved like lightning, striking Metellus’s side.

  ‘No!’ Dan Qing’s voice sounded again. ‘It’s in your side, there, where the blow has fallen. Beware! Be careful!’

  The ray of light went out. The figure disappeared.

  ‘Where is your spirit, Xiong Ying?’ cried out Dan Qing again.

  ‘You said that Yun Shan would be training me!’ shouted back Metellus.

  ‘She has indeed! She is behind everything you’ve done. You may not see her, but it is she who sets you against your adversaries. Or perhaps she is your adversary. Beware!’

  Metellus thrust his hands out to ward off the threat, whatever direction it was coming from. Another ray flashed in the dark, another figure suddenly appeared and struck him hard from behind.

  Metellus fell.

  The ray was extinguished.

  ‘Try to remember, Xiong Ying! It’s night-time, you’re a young recruit, you’re on guard. Where will the enemy’s arrow come from? Careful! Careful! Your instinct will tell you. Follow your tao, there!’

  A third ray revealed another assailant.

  ‘Remember, Xiong Ying!’ rang out Dan Qing’s voice once again. ‘Remember: clay is shaped to make a vase, but it is the emptiness inside that makes the vase what it is!’

  Hands darted like claws, but Metellus’s arms fended off the blow, just as quickly. The adversary disappeared.

  A whistle, two dull thuds. Two gladii plunged into the ground at a short distance from each other. Only the polished edges of their blades were visible. Metellus had just enough time to seize them before two adversaries appeared. A dim glow illuminated the limited area of combat, although its source was not evident. The two were armed with long Chinese swords, decorated with fine engravings.

  The drum started up a pounding roll and the assailants were upon him with cleaving blows.

  Met
ellus spun round with feline force, parrying then thrusting his gladii, their flinty power contrasting with the sinuous flexibility of the slender Chinese swords, which intertwined like steel serpents. All at once the four blades collided over the combatants’ heads in an inextricable clash, jammed one against the other by the unrelenting strength of the arms wielding them. A brighter shaft of light lit up their tips.

  Metellus’s two adversaries broke away abruptly, blades shrieking, and they melted back into the darkness.

  The light went out and flared again elsewhere. A cone of white light flooded the floor and at its centre was Yun Shan, brandishing Tip of Ice. An intermittent flashing began as if an unknown mechanism were screening the light and then releasing it in a rhythm so quick that the image was shattered, splintered into indistinct fragments. Yun Shan broke free of that whirlwind and pounced at him like a tiger, blade outstretched. The fight burst into flame: the swords were tongues of fire, screeching against each other, steel biting into steel, blades gleaming like the eyes of the combatants, sudden flashes of wild energy. The swords blazed in that white light like burning meteors sparking. Clanking steel tore through the silence of that immense, bare room with its pulsating lights.

  Yun Shan suddenly shot backward, rebounded and flung herself at her opponent, delivering a downward blow of tremendous power. Metellus’s two gladii rose up to cross over his head and trap Tip of Ice in a steel vice.

  They looked into each other’s eyes, panting.

  ‘Would you have killed me?’ asked Metellus.

  Yun Shan did not answer.

  Metellus moved even closer. ‘Would you have killed me?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Yun Shan. ‘Because the death that Wei will give you will be a thousand times more painful.’

  Metellus dropped his gladii.

  Tip of Ice descended inexorably but stopped at a hair’s breadth from his head.

  Metellus moved her arm away and got even closer. He could feel the heat of her breath. ‘But you couldn’t do it,’ he said.

  Yun Shan sheathed Tip of Ice.

  Metellus clasped her to him and kissed her. A long, ardent kiss, while the last flash of light went out.

  They had fought all day long.

  AT THAT MOMENT, Dan Qing was entering his quarters. He closed the door behind him. He heard a sound that had become familiar, the ticking of the mechanism that rotated the roof of the silver cage that Daruma had sent him. Then he heard a click, so clear that it made him turn. The door of the cage had opened and the dove was flying out of the open window. Dan Qing watched as the bird soared across the courtyard towards the darkening sky; it was flying in circles, confused. The prince hoped that it would return, as house animals do when it gets dark, but the dove took off towards the forest that covered the surrounding hills and in just moments had vanished from sight.

  THE NEXT MORNING Metellus was woken by one of the monks, who informed him that Princess Yun Shan was waiting for him in the palaestra courtyard, and that he should bring his riding gear. Metellus washed, dressed and went as quickly as he could to the courtyard. He was anxious to see what she had in mind. If they were truly going for a ride, that would be the first time he had been allowed to leave his quarters since he’d arrived at Li Cheng.

  Yun Shan did not even wait for him to greet her but leapt on to her horse and spurred it on. Metellus did the same and the two of them galloped through the gate that opened on to the village.

  It was a small settlement of houses scattered on the hillside, clustered around a road paved with grey stone. Although they were moving quickly, he noticed that there were no monks to be seen, so all of them must live inside the fortress. The people walking along the road had a very particular appearance, their features noticeably different from the other Chinese he’d seen up till then.

  They’d soon ridden through the village gate and found themselves in a dense forest of giant canes stretching south over rocky hills that sloped down towards the open countryside. Beyond the forest was an area of vast rolling meadows edged by a line of green knolls where a narrow river flowed, flanked by trees that were certainly ages old. Towards the west an imposing group of grey cliffs jutted up from the terrain. Their colour and shapes contrasted so sharply with the rolling greenery that they seemed a sort of natural monument.

  Metellus followed Yun Shan in that direction and caught up with her so that they were riding side by side, until the girl pulled on her horse’s reins and jumped to the ground, leaving the animal free to graze. Metellus did the same, but he tied his own mount, which he was not familiar with, to a woody plant. When he turned, Yun Shan was leaning against a big tree which had grown in a crevice between the enormous rocks. He walked close and sought her eyes.

  ‘How do you feel?’ she asked him.

  ‘Like someone who has risen from the dead. Like a new man,’ replied Metellus.

  ‘I imagine that must be a pleasant sensation.’

  ‘It is in part, although it’s not easy to forget the past . . . Why did you stay away from me for so long?’

  ‘I wanted you to face your memories, as I struggled with my own. Now perhaps we can look one another in the eyes without wounding each other every time.’

  ‘Do you still think that Wei will destroy me?’

  ‘He knows all the secrets of a centuries-old art . . .’

  ‘And I’ve just had a few months of initiation.’

  ‘But you have been training in the palaestra designed by Mo Tze himself. Few have had this privilege.’

  ‘How do they produce those beams of light in which the adversary suddenly appears?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s a machine of some sort.’

  ‘Who does know? Dan Qing?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. The eldest of these monks must know. He is a venerable old man. My master, Wangzi, was his disciple.’

  ‘I will be using the arts you have taught me to defeat Wei . . . but I can’t stop thinking that he himself is a victim.’

  Yun Shan bowed her head. ‘It’s true,’ she said in a whisper, ‘but Wei has chosen a road that can lead only to destruction. To cruel, unlimited power. The Flying Foxes are a confraternity of bloodthirsty fanatics who are blindly obedient to him. But, you know, there’s something even more alarming about them . . .’

  ‘I do know what you mean,’ replied Metellus. ‘There was a moment, as we were fighting in the arena, when I had the clear sensation that the Flying Foxes were moving like limbs of the same body, commanded by the same mind.’

  ‘I think you’re right. You’ve hit upon the truth. But to achieve this, he’s lost all respect for the human condition.’

  ‘There are some wounds that never heal,’ observed Metellus.

  Yun Shan looked up at him and Metellus saw that her eyes were full of unfathomable sorrow. He touched her hair.

  Yun Shan turned away and walked towards a cave that opened at the foot of the towering grey cliffs. She entered.

  Metellus knew that if he followed her into that cave his life would change and nothing would be as it had been, but he also knew that he desired Yun Shan more than life itself. The fragrance which had pulled him back from the other world, her fragrance, was stronger than any other memory. He entered slowly and looked around. It was a big natural cavern and the white limestone-streaked walls were full of carvings: hunting scenes, herds of fleeing animals, galloping horsemen loosing arrows. Images of inconceivable antiquity in a land already so ancient.

  The floor was covered with clean, golden sand and on the sand were the blurred prints of bare feet.

  She was in front of him, her raven-black hair loose on her shoulders, gazing at him with a look so feverish that he felt his body and soul take flame. He forgot everything when she enveloped him in her embrace and her hair caressed his neck and shoulders. They let themselves fall, clinging to one another, on to the bed of sand, entwining with impatient frenzy, seeking each other with trembling hands. Metellus was engulfed in that intense fragrance – he co
uld smell it in her hair, on her lips, on her smooth, arching stomach. He kissed her everywhere, while she abandoned herself to the panting heat of his breath, opened her virginal body to his tumultuous desire.

  They made love endlessly, passionately, and then more gently, with languid exhaustion. When they finally fell back, spent, they could hear the voice of the wind blowing through the forest of giant canes.

  ‘Will you stay with me, Xiong Ying?’

  ‘I will stay with you,’ said Metellus. And he was sincere as he pronounced those words. A deep calm had followed the storm of sense and spirit and he was pervaded by a melancholy awareness that a destiny had been carved out for him in that limitless land, in that territory guarded by invisible dragons whom none could flee.

  ‘You will forget,’ said Yun Shan. ‘When you have won, you will forget. You will learn to rise with the sun each morning.’

  THEY STARTED BACK before dusk and stopped to contemplate the walls of the citadel, which were illuminated by the sun setting behind the mountains. The road paving at that point was as smooth as marble and quite slippery. They continued on foot, leading their horses by the reins.

  ‘Li Cheng is the only centre of resistance to Wei,’ Yun Shan explained. ‘It has never been conquered only because no one knows how to get here. There’s a rock wall on the river side and a thick bamboo forest on this side that hide the fortress from sight until you are very close.’

  Metellus watched a dove tracing wide circles in the paling sky. ‘Only that bird up there,’ he said, ‘can see it all and count the houses one by one.’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Yun Shan, ‘but he cannot speak. And so no one can ever be told.’

  They passed a boy with two buckets of water hanging from either end of a pole who stopped to look curiously at the stranger.