A thorough search of the city, starting with Musa’s boat docked along the river turned up nothing. The boat was padlocked, but was forced open and thoroughly searched. The owner was not aboard, nor was there any evidence of the Da Qin. It would be closely watched, as it would be impossible for the renegades to book any other boat passage back to Tianjin now, with the city fully alert for them.
The taiwei ordered fast river cutters to search and inspect all riverboat traffic between here and Tianjin, and cavalry patrols to check all road traffic. He also sent fast couriers to Tianjin to alert the authorities there to detain the Da Qin ships.
The oxcart bumped and lurched its way up the road leading north out of Luoyang, toward Mangshan, and away from the Luo River where they hoped the Hanaean authorities would concentrate their search. The advantage of the oxcart, pulled by two massive, flat-horned water buffalo, was the amount of weight the placid animals were able to haul, seemingly effortlessly: four sheep and ten chickens, all in pens stacked on one side, four passengers and three on the driver’s bench. The disadvantage was that they moved at a walking pace. The driver had a small torch to light their way, and the five walkers were content to stay in its fitful light. They had covered ten uneventful miles when Ibrahim stopped and pulled off into a very small side road for concealment. “Time to rearrange the cargo and get rid of some stuff we do not want found if we find a checkpoint conducting searches,” he announced.
They unloaded the oxcart, setting the complaining chickens and confused sheep on the ground, and dragged the bags of incriminating clothing out. Musa had rigged an ingenious false bottom in the cart, which gave about a foot or so of hidden storage under the floor. It was so tightly made, it was virtually impossible to open from the top, so tightly did it fit against the wall. In the bottom of the cart was a small hole he had drilled. Into this hole he inserted a stout stick, pushed with a grunt, and the back end of the false floor came up several inches, enough for a hand hold to lift it clear. Inside was a stash containing Ibrahim’s ransom, now funding their way home, some swords, bows and substantial daggers, and a brace of arrows, none of which some semi-literate foreign laborers accompanied by five monks should be carrying. Into this hidey hole went the bags containing the Roman clothing and military gear they had been wearing, and cut hair. They would dispose of this much later, and much further away. Right now, to anyone who might have come upon this, they appeared to be just rearranging the cargo for a better ride. The false floor closed with a thud, the cargo was put back in place, and the riders clambered aboard to resume their trek.
They were passing alongside Mangshan Mountain, looming dark against the brilliantly starlit sky a few hours before dawn, when they heard behind them the clatter a group of men on horseback, a cavalry squadron riding hard under torchlight. Their hearts rose to their throats. They tried to act unconcerned… after all they were common laborers giving some monks a ride, with nothing to fear from the authorities.
The men cantered past, without giving a sidewise glance at the oxcart.
At sunrise, they had covered about twenty miles, by Antonius’ estimate; he had been counting paces, army-style. There was a small creek near the road, shrouded by bushes. It seemed to be a good place to stop and wash with the bushes affording some privacy, and get some sleep. The former prisoners had slept not at all in the previous twenty-four hours, and besides, they stank, not having had enough water to wash even their hands in the past five days.
The men picked a spot closer to the road. Marcia was afforded the privacy of some bushes further back, but she invited Antonius along. Demetrios forebade this, as it was already in violation of the rules of the order for bhikkhuni nuns to be traveling with bhukkhu monks. They were close enough to the great White Horse Temple that they had already encountered some monks, mostly traveling alone, and Demetrios had the uneasy feeling that those monks found the behavior of his group suspicious. He was going to have to school them very much in rules of behavior. If they were to be exposed, it would most likely be by a passing monk who doubted their authenticity.
They savored the cold, clear water and washed the grime and filth from their bodies. There were some reeds growing by the side of the river that could be fashioned into serviceable toothbrushes, leaving their mouths clean for the first time in several days. They ate a light breakfast of rice, and then passed out into deep sleep until about noon, when they resumed the trek until sundown.
Once past Mangshan Mountain, they turned west, eventually crossing over an arched bridge over the Jianhe River flowing back to Luoyang. On the other side of the bridge, they followed the river through the agricultural communities in the fields along its banks. Other oxcarts trundled past, peasants on foot trundling heavy loads in wheelbarrows, or with seemingly impossible loads on their backs. Dogs barked, birds sang…. It was a good day to be alive. Antonius estimated they had covered another ten miles.
A bit past the villages, the area turned forested. They dismounted and led the oxen down a path to the river in what appeared to be an isolated spot, unharnessed and hobbled them to graze and water themselves without wandering off. Ibrahim, Musa, and the three “peasants” off loaded the animal cargo, cleaned their cages, and provided them some food and water. Antonius broke out his capsula from the false bottom, and pondered the cylindrical metal container. Would it be recognizable as a Roman artifact? Other than the cryptic ‘LEG XII I COH A. ARIST PP,’ he thought not, as he had yet to encounter an Hanaean who understood Western script. He opened the canister and drew out a roll of white linen, and unrolled it to expose his medical kit… pockets containing scalpels, forceps, suture needles and thread, linen bandages, vials of various liquids, packets of willow bark. He prepared to tend blisters. He and Gaius, as well Demosthenes and the four ‘foreign peasants,’ were used to hard walking, sore but unblistered after thirty miles. Marcus, Marcia and Aulus were not.
“Take care of this, and keep it clean. If it hurts, let me know and we’ll call a halt and tend to it. If it gets inflamed, yer may be down for days, and could lose yer foot… or worse!” he cautioned Aulus, tending the last of the blisters. “I’ll tell Ibrahim that yer three should ride tomorrow.”
“I’m fine!” answered Aulus.
“You are but yer foot is not. Few more days and yer’ll toughen those feet up, but I want all three of yers taking it easy tomorrow.” Antonius was brooking no argument, as he rolled up his kit and stuffed it back into the capsula.
While Shmuel made the fire, Yakov dispatched one of the chickens for the evening meal, but the monks were remaining in character, having only rice and vegetables. Which was fine for Antonius and Gaius, as the Roman army marched and fought on vegetarian fare in the field… meat was believed to bloat a soldier and slow him down. Aulus, Marcus and Marcia thought otherwise.
Aulus approached Ibrahim, and addressed him in Greek, for the first time ever in their relationship. “It seems you’ve earned the handsome ransom Gaius paid you. Thank you, that was a brilliant strategy you came up with.”
“Well, we have a long way before we get out of Hanaean lands,” answered Ibrahim with a smile, trying to stroke a non-existent beard. “And the rest of my ransom is under the floorboards and probably a lot more will be spent getting us home. Did you five manage to salvage any money?”
“Just my purse, with a few denarii and Hanaean coins. Not much. Hope the good emperor enjoys the gift we left in our room… millions of sesterces in gold and silver.”
Ibrahim gave a low whistle. “I am tempted to go back and devise a plan to get that out of the palace. Where was your room located?” asked Ibrahim, with a sibilant hiss and grin.
“Please … don’t even think of it!”
“Remember, I am a thief at heart!” He clapped Aulus familiarly on the shoulder, and went to see about dinner. Aulus rejoined the other monks.
Demosthenes corralled the monks and acquainted them with the discipline of their adopted lifestyle. This began with fifteen minutes of chants in an
unfamiliar language, which they were to have to learn by heart if they were to pass muster with any real monks they should encounter. He showed them how to use his prayer wheel, then they meditated for over an hour before he allowed them to eat. After the spartan dinner, they chanted for another hour before he released them for bedtime, with Marcia dispatched to a private spot. However, Antonius beckoned Demosthenes to join him by the fire before retiring.
“Demosthenes, that was a gutsy thing you did last night, and I am deeply grateful to you for pulling that off. We felt we were already dead, and you returned us to life. We are forever in your debt.”
“You are welcome, but I am deeply conflicted about my actions. I have become deeply attached to you five, but attachment is an illusion. Because of my actions and my affection for you, two guards died, violently.”
“We spared them and their families torture. And you spared us.”
“I know, let me explain….when I was younger, I was a soldier, like yourself, in the army of Bactria. But I grew tired of the killing and bloodshed. I left to follow in the path of the Great Lord Buddha, to break the cycle of dukkha, sadness and disillusionment.”
For about an hour, he explained the beliefs of Buddhism, and the importance of detachment from the illusions of this life, how actions in this life only perpetuate the cycle of birth and rebirth. Antonius contributed some thoughts from Plato, how this life was indeed only the shadow of ideal forms, imperfectly perceived. But then the long day’s trek caught up with them, and they too prepared to retire. They rose, and Demosthenes turned to face Antonius and grasped his shoulder lightly.
“As I said, I am conflicted about this. The beliefs and rules of my order that I have vowed to uphold, say that I have done wrong. And yet… I cannot imagine myself doing otherwise! Once again, I find myself immersed in dukkha.”
“Later, Demosthenes, we will continue this conversation again, I am sure. But right now… life is a cycle, and what you did must count for something!”
The next morning, Ibrahim bade farewell to Musa, who donned a light pack and headed south toward Luoyang. Musa wished them luck, and he was gone.
Marcia, Marcus and Aulus rode the whole way, while the other “monks” walked behind, practicing their new chants. More cavalry patrols passed them by, and sleepy-looking guards at a checkpoint waved them through with no interest in inspecting their cargo. Well before sunset, they found another secluded spot to camp; Antonius estimated they had covered fifteen miles or so. After dinner, Ibrahim called a meeting of the Greek speakers, Demosthenes, Aulus, Gaius and Antonius, with Yakov at his side.
“I am using Greek because you are the key people in this expedition now, and please pass this on to the others when we are done. First, Musa left this morning by choice. Not entirely his own, because he wanted to continue considerably farther, at least. However, he has a wife, children, and a profitable business in Tianjin, and he has already been absent from them for almost six months. If he came with us, he might never see them again.”
Aulus interjected, “What will happen if he is picked up by the authorities in Luoyang and connected with this? We are all known associates of his.”
“That is a good point, Aulus, and we came up with a plan several days ago to deflect any attention away from him, and also gives us some cover. Musa bought this oxcart shortly after we learned you had been imprisoned, and he let everyone know that I and my three associates were terrified of being apprehended, and wanted to leave as fast as possible to the east to rejoin our ships in Tianjin. We got detailed directions, maps and all, and Musa gave, as an excuse for not taking us by boat, that he had another business deal to conclude with a customer northwest of Luoyang, then he, too, would be departing downriver. And he does in fact have such a customer, which is where he is heading, to pick up a signed contract for another boat. A dated one. I and my associates “left” the same day we bought the oxcart by the east gate, and waited in the woods for him to join us the following day. He very publicly padlocked his boat, grumbling that we had left him without anyone aboard to keep it secure, and bragged about his new contract to anyone along the dock who would listen. He will return, in a few days, contract in hand, apparently not even aware that the jailbreak occurred.
“No one in Luoyang would expect us to go north into unknown territory.” Everyone chuckled at that one. “And if anyone connects those dots, they will look for us to the east, dressed and hirsute as we were when we departed last week. Musa has a packet of aconite, compliments of Antonius, in case he is captured. He will die by his own hand before revealing where we really are.” Ibrahim paused to let everyone absorb the gravity of that last statement.
Aulus spoke up. “It seems you have made evading the law your life’s work, and have become quite proficient in it. Every expedition needs a leader, and can have only one. You have done an admirable job, and I, for one, prefer to have you continue in this endeavor. Cousin? Antonius? If anyone is not comfortable with Ibrahim continuing in charge of this effort, speak now, and we can pick another.”
Everyone agreed that Ibrahim was the natural choice. The amount of careful planning that he had already put into this was phenomenal, and it only became apparent to the three as it was explained to them: careful pieces of deception, planning and execution, all products of a brilliant criminal mind.
“Well, I guess I am stuck with you all. Reminds me of being a shepherd again, caring for stupid damned sheep!” Everyone laughed, and Ibrahim continued. “So one of the things that I have found useful in efforts like this, is to hold daily meetings to dissect each new part of our efforts, and solicit your inputs. Gaius, Antonius, you are familiar with this, having dined with me regularly on Europa. And I am sure you do something very similar in the army”
“I didn’t realize that was what we were doing at the time, but yes, I understand. We call them staff meetings, but yes, they are the same thing,” answered Gaius, in deep interest.
“Gaius, you are the strategic thinker. I need your thoughts and criticism in particular. Antonius, you are the superb tactician. I need to know what’s wise and foolish, so Gaius, Antonius, and all of you, feel comfortable with telling me that. Mistakes and omissions are fatal.”
“Aye, sir,” answered Antonius. “Where are we going?”
“Our next stop is Sanmenxia, which is about ten days away at our current rate, maybe two weeks, according to Musa.” answered Ibrahim. “Beyond that is Chang’an. That used to be the capital and is still an important provincial center. Word of our escape will have reached there well before our arrival, so our cover must be impeccable by then. Beyond that is a long road to Kashgar, along a great desert. Very, very far. Demosthenes knows a little about the caravans, having passed through Chang’an on his way into Hanaean territory. Those caravans connect Kashgar with Demosthenes’ home country of Bactria. Kashgar and Chang’an are very important cities, so perhaps Marcus and Marcia know more about them.”
Demosthenes spoke up, “My home country controls Kashgar and several cities along the north side of the great desert. We will be on friendly territory well before Kashgar.”
Marcus added, “We grew up in Liqian in Gansu, which is just a few miles from the road connecting Chang’an to the Turfam area. Marcia and I speak the local dialect.”
Ibrahim nodded. “Good! Now, we have two weaknesses: language, and your cover as Buddhist monks. We can’t go on relying on Demosthenes, Marcus and Marcia as translators. An Hanaean man and a woman acting as translators is what they expect to see. If the authorities decide to look west in the direction we are going, it will be noticed. We all speak a little Hanaean, and soon we must all speak it much better. From here on, all of our daily conversation, mine included, will be in Hanaean, and if you don’t know what to say, use your hands, just as if you were on your own in a village. Expect the barb of my tongue if I hear any language other than Hanaean. The one exception will be these nightly dinners, Gaius’ ‘staff meetings’, which will be in Greek, Latin or Aramaic, depe
nding on who is in the audience, so we clearly understand what our plans are. After that, Demosthenes, Marcus and Marcia will conduct language lessons for everyone for about an hour. I expect in about a month, we all will be reasonably proficient. Does everyone understand?”
Everyone nodded.
Again, Marcus made a point. “The Hanaean you learned around Luoyang and from us is court Mandarin. In the countryside, it will be very conspicuous, especially since we are trying to pass as commoners. So forget what you think you know, you are going to learn our Gansu dialect so we blend in, not stick out.”
“The value of these meetings! Marcus, I never would have thought of that. The second thing is, except for Demosthenes, you only look like Buddhist monks. You are going to have to become Buddhist monks, good enough to pass close scrutiny by real monks. Demosthenes?”
“Correct. I have already begun this. After language lessons, we will assemble to perform more chants, meditate, and ponder the truths of your new religion until bedtime – which may be quite late! And you will rise before sunup to perform the morning rituals.”
“Well done, Demosthenes. Now does anyone have any questions? If not, we can proceed with dinner, then school.”
The following morning, the monks were up well before sunrise, filling the air with their droning chants, seated on their haunches, palms spread, trying very hard to contemplate nothingness… which was harder than it seemed. Thoughts kept intruding.
After a meager breakfast, Antonius checked the blistered feet of Aulus, Marcus and Marcia and pronounced them fit to walk. Then the little caravan was off, led by the shuffling, snorting oxen kicking up dust with their hooves, pulling the creaking oxcart behind.
The Eagle and the Dragon, a Novel of Rome and China Page 40
