Silk Road

by Falconer, Colin

  ‘Is it not a wonder?’ Sartaq whispered to him. ‘It is constructed in such a way that it can be taken down and removed to another more pleasant spot within hours, should the Emperor wish it.’

  Josseran agreed that it was indeed a wonder, though he suspected such removal had never been attempted and was simply another legend to bolster the myth of Khubilai as a traditional Tatar chieftain.

  The hall was already crowded with the holy men of Khubilai’s court; the Emperor’s own shaman, his hair and beard wild and unkempt, his skin scaly with filth, eyes staring in hemp-induced trance; the Tanguts with their shaven heads and saffron-coloured garments; the idolaters, in cloaks of orange and purple brocade and black pillbox hats, holding curved wooden prayer boards; the black-robed Nestorians; and the white-bearded Mohammedans in white skullcaps.

  Below the throne, to Khubilai’s left, was the Empress Chabi, Khubilai’s favourite. Josseran had learned from Sartaq that she was an ardent devotee of Borcan. She eyed them with cold suspicion as they entered. To Josseran’s further consternation he saw Phags-pa standing at the Emperor’s shoulder. It was apparent that he was to be both the convener of the debate and its leading participant.

  Khubilai signalled to Phags-pa lama, who announced that the proceedings would now commence. To begin the affair, a spokesman from each faction was to give a brief account of his own religion and afterwards they would debate in open forum.

  As the discussions began, Josseran found himself bewildered by the heresies and witchcraft and idolatry to which his ears were subjected. He translated it all faithfully to William. When it was William’s turn he stood up, resplendent in his white surplice and purple stole, and gave what he called the true account of history, from the time of the making of the world and the creation of Man and Woman by God.

  He then spoke of the miraculous birth of Christ and related the story of His life and sufferings, and finished by enumerating God’s laws, as vouchsafed to Man in the Ten Commandments. He then expounded on the special place that the Pope and the Holy Mother Church held in the heart of God.

  It was an inspired speech. His eyes burned with his fervour, and his oratory was impressive. Gone was the carping, hateful little friar, replaced by a giant with a voice like thunder. Josseran had never seen this aspect of his character before. At last he understood why the Pope had sent him.

  When he had finished, the Emperor, through Phags-pa lama, announced the debate. It soon became obvious that William, as the newcomer, was to be the target of all.

  It was Phags-pa lama himself who led the inquisition and Josseran would have enjoyed William’s discomfort except that it was vital for the Templar cause that they make a good impression here. And, for all his misgivings, Christianity was yet the religion of his heart.

  First, Phags-pa lama asked William about the Ten Commandments of God.

  ‘But our Emperor does not follow your God’s precepts and he has trodden all other nations underfoot. Does that not mean that he alone is blessed and your and all other gods are inferior?’

  William was unflustered by such argument. ‘Tell him a man’s worth is not measured by what he owns in this world. Christ Himself told us that the earth shall be inherited by the meek.’

  ‘That has not been my experience,’ the Emperor growled when he heard William’s reply and some of his generals, listening curiously to this debate, laughed aloud.

  ‘How can a man know the mind of the gods except if what he does earns their favour or displeasure?’ Khubilai said, now placing himself inside the debate.

  ‘Tell him it is a matter of faith,’ William said when he heard this.

  ‘No, a man is not defined by what he believes,’ Phags-pa said, ‘but by what he does. A thousand years of wisdom has been condensed into our book of the Pao. It allows every person to calculate the merits and demerits of his life.’

  ‘But if a man can earn demerit by his actions,’ one of the idolaters interrupted, for the moment deflecting the attention from William, ‘surely then the way to serenity is by performing no action. That is the way of the Tao.’

  And so it went on.

  Josseran was dazzled to be present at such a discourse. He had never been exposed to such a diversity of thought and as the arguments raged about him and he breathlessly relayed each word to William, he realized how similar were the arguments of the Mohammedans to their own. Indeed, they also spoke of prophets and the immutability of one God and his laws. Of all of the religious present that afternoon, it seemed to him that the Mohammedans, their bitter enemies in Outremer, were their closest allies.

  The Nestorians, for their part, attacked William with the same ferocity as the Tanguts.

  Khubilai’s own shaman was now saying that words were unimportant, that the rightness of a religion could only be gauged by the efficacy of its magic. The Emperor interrupted him to point out that if that were true, then the Pope had very powerful magic for behold what William’s God had done to Mar Salah.

  On hearing this William tried to press his advantage by saying that from the day God had created the world all he wished was that all the people of the earth should recognize him and give him due praise and obedience. He would only bring down his vengeance on those who denied him. As he had on Mar Salah.

  An old monk in a saffron robe spoke next. ‘He says that the world is an illusion,’ Josseran translated. ‘He says that life will always disappoint us and birth, old age, illness and suffering are inevitable.’

  ‘Tell him that is why Christ came to save us!’ William almost shouted, his cheeks flushed with excitement. ‘That if we endure our sufferings in a Christian way we can find heaven!’

  Josseran conveyed this perspective to the monk, who stared deep into William’s face as he made his response. ‘Even the peasant in the field endures,’ he said. ‘Reading sacred texts, abstaining from meat, worshipping the Buddha, giving alms, all these gain merit for the next life. But for release from suffering, what is required is a personal revelation of the emptiness of the world.’

  ‘How can the world be empty?’ William shouted. ‘It was created by God! Only man is sinful!’

  The monk frowned. ‘He asks what you mean by sin,’ Josseran said.

  ‘Lust. Fornication. Weakness of the flesh.’

  When he heard this the monk murmured a response which Josseran seemed unwilling to pass on.

  ‘What was it he said?’ William demanded.

  ‘He said – he said that you were right to fear such weakness.’

  ‘What did he mean by that?’

  ‘I do not know, Brother William. He would not explain further.’

  ‘The righteous man fears nothing!’ William shouted at him. ‘Those who keep God’s law will be rewarded in heaven!’

  Khubilai held up a hand for silence. He then began to conduct a long and whispered conversation with Phags-pa lama.

  As this was happening William turned to Josseran. ‘You have not properly translated all that I said!’ he hissed.

  ‘Since you do not speak their language, how do you know what I have said?’

  ‘It is obvious by their looks and their expressions. If you had spoken the true words of God, they would have already been persuaded. Should we fail here today it will be your doing and I shall denounce you before the Haute Cour upon our return to Acre.’

  ‘I translated all you said faithfully and without prejudice!’

  ‘It is clear to me that you did not!’

  The consultation between the Emperor and his adviser ended abruptly and Phags-pa lama turned to face the assembly. ‘The Son of Heaven has listened to all your arguments and believes that each of you spoke eloquently and persuasively. He will think on all he has seen and heard. Now he wishes you all to leave him to his tranquillity. Except the barbarian.’ He indicated Josseran.

  ‘I shall stay also,’ William said as the others filed from the room. ‘I cannot leave you here without instruction.’

  Phags-pa lama glared at him. ‘Tell him
he must leave now.’

  Josseran turned to William. ‘I fear if you do not leave this moment, they will drag you from the chamber as they did before. It does not leave a good impression.’

  William hesitated, red-eyed with exhaustion and fervour and rage, then reluctantly made his obeisance to the Son of Heaven and left the room.

  When they were alone in the great pavilion. Khubilai Khan, Son of Heaven, regarded Josseran Sarrazini for a long time. ‘We have thought deeply about what we have seen and heard here today,’ he said at last.

  Josseran waited. The fate of their entire expedition hinged on this very moment. ‘I trust you were pleased with our arguments, great lord.’

  ‘We were greatly impressed with all we heard here today and we thank you for making the long and dangerous journey to our court. It has been most instructive. As to the matter of religion, these are the words of my heart . . .’

  LXXXVIII

  WILLIAM WAITED on his knees on the flagstones, repeating the words of the paternoster. When he saw Josseran he leaped to his feet.

  ‘What did he say?’ he asked, his voice hoarse with strain and excitement.

  ‘He says he has made his considerations and would like us to know that of all the religions he has heard . . . he likes ours the best.’

  William could scarcely believe his ears. He dropped back to his knees, shouting his praises to God. All the trials and misfortunes had been worth the price. He had done as God had asked him to do and brought the king of the Tatars into the fold.

  Josseran did not join him in his thanksgiving. He left him there, still on his knees, and made his way back to his apartments. He sensed that their celebration was premature. Even after so many months spent travelling the roads of Middle Asia and Cathay, the conversion of the Son of Heaven, Ruler of Rulers, Khan of Khans of all the Tatars, now seemed to him . . .

  . . . too simple.

  LXXXIX

  THE NEXT MORNING they again presented themselves at Miao-yen’s apartment. William was hollow-eyed from exhaustion. He had been too overwrought to sleep and had spent that entire night repeating prayers of thanks and supplication. Josseran had not slept either. He felt torn in two. They had seemingly achieved a triumph beyond imagining, yet the arguments he had heard during the debate had cast a shadow over his soul.

  Such blasphemies could never be spoken aloud in Christendom; such open debate was impossible. The opinions and philosophies he had heard had shaken his faith more deeply than ever. Could a man really know the mind of God? In the face of so many other theories and opinions how could any man be sure that he had stumbled upon an absolute truth?

  Miao-yen awaited them, seated on a silk mat. She bowed her head as they entered. They returned her greeting and sat down, cross-legged. One of her maids brought bowls of plum tea and set them on a black lacquered table between them.

  ‘Tell her today I shall teach her the way we make confession,’ William said.

  Josseran relayed this, watching the young girl’s face, wondering what went on behind her black eyes.

  ‘I am honoured to learn this confession,’ Miao-yen told him. ‘But first I should congratulate you. I have heard of your triumphant hour in the Emperor’s pavilion.’

  ‘Your father seemed well pleased with us,’ Josseran said.

  A curious smile. ‘He was well pleased with everyone.’

  ‘But he assured me that he liked our religion best of all.’

  Miao-yen still smiled. ‘He said this to you?’

  ‘Indeed.’

  She turned and gazed dreamily out of the screened windows at the lake. Josseran heard the rasp of a willow broom in the court outside. ‘You do not understand my father,’ she said finally.

  ‘What is it we do not understand?’

  ‘What does she say?’ William wanted to know. ‘Must you always frustrate me like this, Templar?’

  ‘I am not sure of her meaning.’

  ‘Do not try and instruct her yourself,’ William warned. ‘I will not have her infected with your heresies.’

  ‘Very well, I will tell you what she says,’ he answered. ‘She casts doubt on our victory before the Emperor yesterday.’

  ‘But you heard the verdict from his own lips!’

  ‘She implies that what the Emperor says is not what he means. It would not be the first time a king has dissembled for his own ends.’

  Miao-yen turned from the window. ‘All think they are victors in the debate. Did you not know?’

  Josseran took a breath.

  ‘You did not really believe he would so isolate himself from his allies in the court? The debate was merely a device to set you all against each other. My father is all things to all men; I told you this. It is the core of his strength.’

  ‘But he said he found most reason in our religion.’

  ‘When he is with the Tanguts he follows the ways of Buddha; to the Mohammedans he is the upholder of the Faith. To Mar Salah, he was the protector of your Jesus. He does and says what it is politic to do and say.’

  ‘Tell me what she says!’ William almost shouted.

  Miao-yen kept her eyes lowered while Josseran translated what she had just told him. William’s face turned ashen and the euphoria that had been with him all morning evaporated entirely. ‘She makes mischief,’ he said. ‘I do not believe her.’

  ‘That Khubilai toys with us for reasons of politics makes more sense to me than his sudden conversion.’

  ‘I do not believe it!’ William said but Josseran could see that the awful truth had already taken hold.

  ‘You may be right. It is only her opinion.’

  ‘But you believe her?’

  Josseran did not answer.

  William jumped to his feet. His hands were shaking. ‘I am the emissary of the Pope himself!’ he shouted. ‘He cannot toy with me in this fashion!’

  And he marched away.

  After he had gone Josseran turned back to Miao-yen. ‘I fear there will be no instruction today,’ he said.

  ‘A thousand apologies. But it is better that you understand the game my father plays, even if you do not know all the rules.’

  ‘Yes, my lady,’ he said, and wondered if the Emperor knew she was telling them this, or if Miao-yen had taken it on herself to tell them the truth.

  And so, he thought, our great triumph of yesterday was purely imaginary. Treating with these Tatars was like trying to capture smoke in your fist.

  He looked into the doe eyes of the princess and wondered what else he would learn from this strange creature. Does she wish to be our ally or does she merely wish to torment us with our own foolishness?

  The pleasure barge floated on a lake of velveteen beauty, as glossy black as coal, and dappled with light from the lanterns of the pagodas along the lake’s edge. The night was cool and scented with jasmine. From the cabin of her barge Miao-yen could see the entire city; the lacquered tiles of the palaces and temples glittered under a three-quarter moon.

  She lay on her back on the silken carpets, naked except for a pair of small silk slippers on her feet. Her body was the colour of alabaster, aromatic from the perfumed oils from her bath.

  A servant woman knelt at her head. With her right thumb she applied pressure at the Place of a Hundred Meetings, easing the tension in her body. Then, using both her thumbs, she concentrated her attentions on the Hall of the Imprint between the eyebrows, before dragging around to the highest yang at the soft temple, where she felt the gentle throbbing of her pulse.

  Her expert thumbs went next to the Wind Pond, at the lower margin of the occipital bone, then she pinched the skin at the nape of the neck, kneading down towards both jian jing acupoints in the thick muscles of the shoulder well.

  The ceiling of the cabin was painted in watercolours with flowers and mountain landscapes, a nether dreamworld of cloud and willow. Miao-yen felt herself drifting among them.

  Employing the tips of her thumbs, the masseuse worked along her smooth arms, concentrating the press
ure at the Inner Pass, above the soft crease of the wrist, and the Spirit Gate beneath the ulna, pressing hard into the Joining of the Valleys; press-release, press-release, so that the princess groaned aloud, feeling the pressure build between her eyes and then suddenly and wondrously disappear.

  She moved to the legs, avoiding the triple yin crossing, for a good masseuse will not excite the sexual longings of a maiden.

  Miao-yen rolled languorously on to her stomach. She worked her fingers into the Jumping Circle with the knuckle of the bent middle finger, pressing hard into the silk depression below the right and left buttocks, heard the girl gasp and bite the flesh of her arm with sudden pain.

  She finished with a number of two-palm presses along the gently curving spine, using the muscular pads on the heel of her hand. Miao-yen’s eyes were closed now, her body relaxed, her lips parted.

  The masseuse stood up, her work finished. She examined the girl’s body with the critical gaze of an older woman. She envied her taut muscles and fragrant skin. She would be the perfect jewel for some Chin prince, she thought.

  And best of all, she had the wonderful secrets of the slipper.

  William lay in the darkness of the third hour, listening to the mocking sounds of the city; the cry of the Mohammedan summoning the heathen to their church and the booming of the gongs of the idolaters as they set out through the darkened streets. He was surrounded by unbelievers, a lamb among the dogs of hell. He felt the burden of his charge, this great pact God had made with him, to bring his holy word here to the end of the world.

  His eyes ached for sleep but his muscles and his nerves were as taut as bowstrings.

  He closed his eyes, remembering the sweet powders and fragrant teas of his new student, heard again the lapping of the waters of the lake around her pavilion, the strange music of the Cathay lutes. The rustle of silk was as ominous and piercing as thunder.

  He got out of his bed and knelt on the floor, tried to concentrate his heart with prayer. His hands began to shake.