Mehrzad, head of the guards, was short and stout, with a bushy black beard and thick dark eyebrows that joined in the middle, and a drooping mustache. He wore a dark cloth wrapped around his head, a dirty green. “Too early for bandits, riders checked out the upper reaches of the Alay Valley, very few people up there yet, but bears and wolves are up, and hungry after winter. We have some volunteers for this trip. These eight,” he said, turning toward Aulus’s group, “come highly recommended by Farhad, many of you know him. They are all good fighters, three of them professional soldiers in their own lands, and three adventurous sailors. And the only one to actually fight on their last trip is the woman, Marcia.” There were groans and catcalls, and a few obscene remarks.
Mehrzad let the hubbub die down. “She was Farhad’s partner on her last trip, and she killed three men in that fight. He said she rode like a hound from hell! He suggested that any one you want to test her, feel free, but don’t pull a knife on her… she has a short temper about that!” He beckoned Marcia to step forward.
Marcia, wearing her riding felts and fighting gear, did so, smiled sweetly, and bowed ever so slightly before the men. She straightened up, extended her arms held low, palms out, signaling her invitation for a challenge, but still smiling. The men looked skeptical but there were no takers. Most knew and had ridden with Farhad on other routes, and knew he didn’t hand out praise like that lightly. After a few moments, Marcia dropped her arms to her sides and stepped back next to Antonius.
Kambiz stepped up before the men. “So do you accept these volunteers? Any objections, let’s hear them!” There were none, though some grumbled about a woman.
So on the appointed day, the Romans said goodbye to their beds, packed up their gear, and were mounted and ready in the caravansary before the sun crept over the horizon. Marcia was outside with Excelsior prancing restlessly, taking first day watch with Mehrzad. The rising sun cast long shadows in the flat terrain.
The caravan was much smaller than their last, about a hundred pack animals, more horses and mules than camels. The beasts were loaded up, and the procession slowly formed up outside the north gate. Then Kambiz blew a blaring note on his horn, and the whole group moved off around the sandy bluff to the north, then west to the Irkeshtam Pass.
CHAPTER 73: ACROSS THE IRKESHTAM PASS
The caravan traveled all morning through pleasant grassy terrain along a small river, Marcia and Mehrzad riding point and making small talk. About noon they turned directly west, along terrain that was mostly arid sagebrush country, until nearly at sunset, the road began to slope up between two mountains, corrugated by cliffs on either side. The road crossed a stream in a pine-filled meadow, and Kambiz turned to follow it, calling a halt a bit later. Marcia and Mehrzad bid farewell, as did Aulus with his partner, and they returned to their respective camps.
The other six in the Roman party were off-duty and had set up all the tents. They were busy cooking dinner when Marcia and Aulus showed up. The two took care of their horses, then tethered them to the rope rigged for that purpose.
“How did they treat yer, domina?” asked Antonius solicitously.
“Not bad, not bad at all! And I am off for three days, if they keep their promise. I see you set up the tent,” she said with a sly twinkle. “Privacy tonight?”
“We’ll be back in the yurt in the mountains, so we might as well take advantage of it while we have it.”
The next morning they began the ascent into the pass. Antonius was on duty, riding point with Ardavan, a nineteen year-old youth, unshaven except for a wispy mustache, with dark curly hair. They, too spent the morning in small talk, Ardavan fascinated with Antonius’ adventures along the Danube and Syria, a world away from the young man’s life. The caravan continued ascending into the mountains throughout the morning, the route lined with slender aspens. The mountains loomed over either side of the trail, grey and forbidding, their wrinkled flanks like grey blankets tossed aside by the gods. Gray clouds scudded over their tops like wisps of wool. By noon, the air turned chill and windy, the vegetation had dried up and turned to scrub, and it stayed that way until, again about sundown, the caravan camped in another tree-lined spot lined with a few mud-brick homes. Marcia, who was off duty, had pitched the tent again.
The Irkeshtam Pass was a rising valley about five miles wide at the bottom, between two ranges of mountains on either side. The well-worn road down the middle of the valley became more difficult at the higher levels, dodging around projecting mountain flanks, as the valley narrowed to a mile or less. Still, it was by no means difficult, though animals and men labored for breath at the top with just a little exertion. Clouds now completely obscured the tops of the mountains and a foggy mist chilled the air. The wind kept up a restless moaning, a constant backdrop to the sounds of the animals, their bells, and muted conversations. By afternoon, the slope turned downward, the valley widened again to several miles, and the air began warming. The wind through the aspen and pine trees made their branches shiver. The road ran along the banks of the Vakhsh, a wide meandering mountain river flowing westward alongside the road in a valley green with spring grass.
The going was easy through the relatively unpopulated area. Only a few nomadic yak herders had yet made it up to the summer pastures this early, and they offered friendly waves and occasional attempts to barter supplies in a language not Bactrian. And on one occasion, an eastbound caravan lumbered past them, heading for Kashgar. Kambiz and Mehrzad conferred with their counterparts, but neither train stopped to commingle. Other than that, it was simply boring, one overnight stop after another, each much the same as the last. There were no caravansaries in the few tiny villages along the route, so to break the monotony, Kambiz took a two night stand-down once a week. This gave everyone a chance to relax, sing, drink, and get a good night’s sleep without the rigors of early morning packouts, and rest the animals as well.
It was during one of these stopovers that Aulus, Gaius, Antonius and Marcia found themselves sitting around a late night fire. Ibrahim had camp watch that night, everyone else having retired early.
Aulus was introspective. More properly, he was staring into the fire, brooding over the outcome of the trip.
“Quiet tonight, cousin?” asked Gaius.
“Rather. Feeling a bit uneasy about what we find when we return,” answered Aulus.
“We’ve talked about that before. If you hadn’t done what you did, we would have left you alone in the anteroom and charged in without you,” said Gaius. Antonius turned around to pay attention to the exchange.
“I hope Trajan sees it that way.”
“Well, if he doesn’t, what of it? He isn’t the kind to put our heads up in the forum for that,” answered Gaius. “I think something else set you off today. What was it?”
Aulus gave a long sigh. “While we were out on patrol today, my partner Rozi said he’d heard I was some kind of important person. And you know, all the things I thought were important a year ago, my money, my position as Senator and as ambassador, all those things… they are worthless out here. I used to spend more money in a few hours than I have spent all last year! Now, I am probably the least important person in the group.”
“Arrgh, Senator, that’s not true an’ yer know it,” Antonius growled. “Yer took a stand back in Luoyang on a snap, and yer made a damn good call. An’ when it came time to getting’ out of Luoyang, yer had the sense to put Ibrahim in charge. That man was born ter be outside the law, an’ he’s good at it. An’ after yer put him in charge, yer never second-guessed him. So relax, yer’ll get a chance to be up front, and yer’ll be good at it again. Besides… yer’ve lost fifty pounds, look and fight like a soldier and ride like a Xiongnu! That’s what’s important here!”
Aulus gave a chuckle. “Thanks, it’s good to hear that, Antonius. I think I was feeling sorry for myself. Yes, I have done some things I never expected to do. I remember buckling on a sword back in Taprobane when we were on your tail. I put it on because I had to do i
t for show, but I damned sure did not want to have to use it. Probably would have cut myself!”
“Considering yer haven’t spent yer life learning how ter use it, yer getting’ pretty good at it. So relax and enjoy the break in responsibilities!” Antonius leaned back, reached for a wine flask, poured himself a cupful, and reached for Aulus’s cup. “Here, Senator, good fer mountain sickness, that’s what’s ailin’ yer.”
“Me, too!” said Gaius, offering his cup. “You know, Aulus, Antonius and I are more like common soldiers now than the legatus and centurion we were. And we take a lot more orders than we give. We do here what we have to do to survive. So cheers! We just take care of each and see that we all get home.”
The group fell silent, and Gaius gumbled around in his pounch to find his locket, and fingered the image of Camilla in the flickering firelight. Marcia noticed and leaned over to observe. “She’s beautiful. Your wife?’
“Yes, that’s Camilla. And she is my wife, if she’ll have me when I get back.”
“Why wouldn’t she?” asked Marcia
“Do you realize that you and Antonius have probably had more time together since Luoyang, than she and I have had in, let’s see, ten years of marriage?”
“Your duties?”
“Always my damned duties! Duty kept me away when my children were borne, both of them. She or they could have died, maybe both, and I wasn’t there. Duties for this trip, couldn’t come home… I hadn’t seen her and children for a year, was planning to be gone and out of touch for a year. It will be four years when I get back, maybe more. She was good about it, she understood. And someday I will have to understand when she has taken a lover because I could never be there. I envy you and Antonius.”
“She won’t take a lover, Gaius,” said Aulus. “We know her.”
“Others have. Or she may just want to divorce me when I come home. Duty! I haven’t done my duty by her, and I never have.”
Marcia edged closer. “You love her enough feel this way, and she knows that you feel that way. We women… we have duties too. Mainly it is to support our men, so they are free to do what they must to protect us. That’s my duty to Antonius, Hina’s duty to Galosga, and Camilla’s to you.”
“I know that if I get back from this damned trip, I will take a hell of a lot better care of her than I have. Give me another swill of that mountain sickness wine, Antonius!” He wiped his burning eyes on his sleeve. “Time for me to quit feeling sorry for myself.”
The Alay valley widened out into a green alpine meadow a good five miles wide. Here at the warmer lower elevations everyone felt better. The nomad herdsmen became more numerous, their white yurts clustering on the grassland like mushroom fields, surrounded by their herds of yaks, goats, sheep and, occasionally, impressive-looking horses. And it was in this pleasant but isolated upland valley that the caravan spent the next several weeks, until the mountains closed in again. Through these rock corridors the caravan followed beside the Vakhsh as it turned into a plunging mountain torrent, until the trail opened out of the Pamir foothills into mountain glens to the Oxus River.
They crossed the Oxus by a magnificent stone bridge not far from the ruins of the fort of Alexandria-on-the-Oxus, built by Alexander himself during his conquest half a millenium ago and destroyed two centuries back, according to Mehrzad. They followed a lush river valley through green vineyards heavy with ripening grapes and yellow–green wheat fields rippled by the hot August wind blowing in off the arid Arian desert plain. Warnu emerged like a pearl in the distance set in the center of greenness, a city of white limestone and marble buildings.
Here they reached their first caravansary since leaving Kashgar, and Kambiz gave his men and animals a much needed week-long break; they had been on the road for two months, six weeks of it in the Pamirs.
Warnu was a cosmopolitan city, with separate quarters speaking Aramaic, Greek, Bactrian, and han-yu. Everyone in the group wanted to hear their birth language spoken by someone with whom they hadn’t been traveling for two years.
The week in Warnu passed uneventfully, sightseeing during the day followed with evening meals in town, each group savoring the return to more familiar sights, sounds and surroundings. Then the caravan resumed its route south, through Baghlang and Sirkh Kotal, each a few day’s easy journey apart, with short stops in each. Then it was back up into the mountains of the Hindu Kush and down to Bagram, ‘Alexandria on the Caucasus’.
CHAPTER 74: BAGRAM AND THE BACTRIAN KING
As the Roman party was preparing to offload their baggage outside Bagram’s large caravansary, an officer, flanked by several other soldiers, stepped up to them. Although Gaius and Antonius recognized neither the uniform nor the badges of rank, it was clear, in the international language of all soldiers everywhere, that this man was an officer, with considerable authority. He wore a peculiar beaked helmet, a horizontal visor protecting his eyes against the glare of the sun, above which sat a bronze snake rearing mouth open, ready to strike, a shallow neck guard and cheek pieces secured a black chinstrap. He was clad in a thickly quilted linen tunic covered with metallic disks, giving way to a light-weight knee-length linen kilt. He was clean-shaven, with moderate length brown hair, slightly curly. The soldiers behind him were similarly clad, but had the shields at the ready, hands on their sword pommels.
The officer called out in Greek, “Senator Aulus Aemilius Galba!”
Aulus had been facing the troops as had they all, and answered slowly, “That is I. To whom do I speak?” He held himself with as much gravitas as was possible, considering he was taken completely by surprise.
“I am Boni Megarion. The king requests the presence of you and your party of ten in the palace.”
Aulus wondered whether Boni was name or a title. It meant ‘guard,’ so it could be either. “We are honored for the invitation. However, we are eight, not ten. Please give us a few minutes to unload and refresh ourselves to be ready for such a visit, because as you can see, we have just now dismounted after a long day’s ride.” How the hell did he know the number that had started this trip? Does he have everyone’s name?
“My men will take care of your baggage. You may refresh yourselves at the palace, where you will find appropriate attire.” He consulted a paper list he produced from a pocket. “Point them out to me: Gaius Lucullus, Antonius Aristides, Si Huar, Si Nuo and five traveling companions, and identify the missing ones, and why?”
Aulus indicated each in turn, introducing Ibrahim, Yakov, Shmuel and Demosthenes by name. “Our fifth traveling companion wed into the Xiong-nu and continued on with them to Dzungaria in the Altais. Si Huar prefers her Latin name Marcia Lucia as she is now married to Antonius. Si Nuo is her brother, who remained in Liqian to care for their aging mother. Let me commend you on the accuracy of your information about us. Please allow me to consult with my friends, as they do not all speak Greek.”
“To be sure.” The man made a virtue of military taciturnity.
Aulus assembled the group around him and addressed them in Latin. “Ibrahim, I know this is not your favorite language, but please translate into Aramaic for your companions. I want this man, Boni Megarion, to hear as little of this as possible.” He paused and continued, “All right, it seems we are expected, and invited to a reception in our honor with the king. Let’s all hope that it goes better than our last meeting with an eastern potentate! He wants us there immediately with bathing and clothes - I hope! - provided for us at the palace. They are going to take care of our baggage, but I suggest we ride, to keep our beeswax as secure as possible. We haven’t been told to disarm, so let’s keep them to hand until told to do so. Questions? Keep them simple, because I don’t have many answers.”
The Latin speakers shook their heads in the negative and murmured agreement. Ibrahim translated into guttural Aramaic for Yakov and Shmuel, and Marcia translated for Demosthenes.
Aulus turned back to the officer. “We would like to ride, if possible.”
“To be sure.” Talka
tive, that one.
The soldiers began unloading the pack animals. A wagon came out of nowhere, discharging more soldiers to lead the animals off to the paddock, and to help load the baggage.
Inwardly, Aulus was fuming, but it seemed to be futile to protest. “Where are you taking our baggage?” he asked the impassive Boni.
“To the palace. You will be staying a while.”
Kambiz rode up and talked quickly with Boni in Bactrian. He obviously was as surprised as Aulus, and less interested in not making a disturbance. The exchange was heated, but in the end, the outcome the same. Kambiz turned to Aulus. “You seem to have attracted royal attention. I am sorry, but he is not at liberty to discuss why, if he even knows. If I don’t see you again, it has been a pleasure having you ride with us.” If he doesn’t see us again... encouraging note!
So they saddled back up and followed Boni and his men to the city. Bagram was circled by a brick wall with towers at each corner, laid out inside in a grid of cobble-stoned streets, with frequent colonnades, parks, temples, and fountains. The palace was the large white marble building at the center of town, a classic Greek-style building with a gabled marble roof supported on eight columns, surrounded by a green park studded with shade trees.
Marcia cantered up alongside Aulus on Excelsior, rocking gracefully in the saddle in her sweat-stained felts. “I thought you should know…We were here before on my first trip west several years ago. Dim says the king’s name is Vima Kadphises, the same as we met.”
The Eagle and the Dragon, a Novel of Rome and China Page 59
