Silk Road

by Falconer, Colin

  He tore the robe from his shoulders until it hung about his waist and searched in the darkness for the switch. He found it in its hiding place, beneath the bed. He began to flail at his back with great enthusiasm, for at stake was the greatest triumph of his faith, if he had but the strength.

  Or would he, in his way, cause his Lord to suffer again?

  XC

  THE HUNTING PRESERVE was to the west and north of the city, abutting the city walls, a vast paradise garden of meadowlands, woods and streams, stocked with wild hart, buck and roe deer. There were also herds of white mares, their milk the sole property of the Emperor. The park was enclosed by an earthen wall that snaked sixteen miles around the plain and was surrounded by a deep moat. The only entrance was through the palace itself.

  Josseran had seen the park from Miao-yen’s pavilion and had thought never to go there. But one day, much to his surprise, he was invited to ride to hunt with the great Khubilai himself.

  The howdah was mounted on the backs of two grey elephants. It was sumptuously appointed, the walls and roof draped with leopard skins, the interior rich with cloths of silk brocade and furs. This is not the way Qaidu would ride to hunt, Josseran found himself thinking, and for a moment he saw this great chieftain through the eyes of the true Tatars, like Khutelun, and he understood their bitterness.

  The howdah creaked in time with the rolling gait of the great elephant as they set off along the shaded paths. A line of riders followed them, his kesig in light armour, some with bows, others with falcons on their gloved arms. The leading officer had a leopard sitting on his horse’s croup.

  The Emperor himself wore a gold helmet and white quilted armour. He had a gyrfalcon resting on his arm, and he stroked its head as if it were a kitten.

  I wonder what he wants of me? Josseran thought.

  ‘They tell me,’ Khubilai said, ‘that you came here across the Roof of the World.’

  ‘Indeed, my lord.’

  ‘Then doubtless you were the guest for a time of my lord Qaidu. Did he speak of me?’

  Josseran felt a thrill of alarm. What was this about? ‘He spoke much of Ariq Böke,’ he said carefully. He clung to the sides of the howdah, unused to the swaying movement. Like being on a ship during a stormy passage.

  ‘And he gave him great credit, no doubt, for qualities he does not possess. What did you think of my lord Qaidu?’

  ‘He treated kindly with me.’

  ‘A careful answer. But you know the reason that I ask you these questions. Not all Tatars think of Khubilai as their lord.’ He did not wait for a reply. ‘You know this for you have seen our dispute with your own eyes. But know this also: I am lord of both the Mongol and the Celestial Kingdom, and those who defy me I will grind into dust. Hülegü, in the khanate in the west, acknowledges me and is obedient to my wishes.’

  We may yet forge our alliance then, Josseran thought. Or is this another of his games? The gyrfalcons had been released by Khubilai’s horsemen, and they shrieked as they swooped on the cranes in the lakes.

  ‘There are some who think we should spend all our lives as our grandfathers did, on the steppes, stealing horses and burning towns. But Qaidu and my brother Ariq Böke live in a time that is gone. Are we to live as Chinggis lived, to conquer the world every winter, only to withdraw again during the summer to tend our horses and sheep? If we are to keep what we have won then we have to change our old ways. The world may be conquered from horseback but it cannot be ruled from it.

  ‘The Mongol Tatar is the best in the world at fighting, but we have much to learn from the Chin in the way of governing. Qaidu and Ariq Böke do not understand that. A sage is needed to unite the world of Cathay and the people of the Blue Sky.’ It was clear to Josseran from the way that Khubilai spoke who he thought that sage should be.

  Their elephant raised its trunk to the heavens and trumpeted as a boar dashed across their path from the undergrowth and crashed away into the brush. The howdah gave a sickening lurch. Khubilai signalled to the horseman who carried the hunting leopard on his horse’s croup. The officer unleashed the beast’s chain and immediately it plunged after the boar, its head bobbing, the sinuous spine lengthening with each stride. The boar screamed and twisted and darted as it tried to escape but the leopard brought it down.

  ‘I have decided to agree to this alliance you ask for. When our armies have won our victory we shall let you keep your kingdoms along the coast together with this town of Jerusalem you speak of. In return your Pope must send to me a hundred of his most learned advisers to help me in the administration of my kingdom.’

  Josseran was stunned by this sudden offer. But then he realized: Khubilai wants to free Hülegü from the fighting in the west as soon as possible, so that he can support his own claim for the khanate. But a hundred advisers? What did the Emperor hope to gain from a hundred priests? One was enough of a burden.

  ‘Brother William asks that he may be permitted to baptize you into our holy religion,’ Josseran ventured.

  Khubilai studied him, his eyes cold. ‘This I did not promise you.’

  ‘You greatly favoured us with your opinion that you liked our religion better than any other,’ Josseran said, caution cast aside now. He would test for himself Miao-yen’s charge of her father’s duplicity.

  ‘We Mongol believe, as you do, that there is but one God, by whom we live and by whom we die. But just as God gave different fingers to the hand, so he has given different ways to men. This the Emperor accepts. You must understand that the Son of Heaven is not free to choose his religion as others are. I indeed told you that I admired your religion above all others, but you were mistaken if you thought that I could then accept its forms and its customs. Be satisfied with what you have, Barbarian. It is what you came here for.’

  The leopard had been retrieved by its handler and the gyrfalcons loosed to enjoy their dinner. As he watched the birds tear at the flesh of the boar, Josseran felt curiously depressed. He had succeeded in the task that the Order had set for him, despite the interference of the friar; but now it was done he only experienced that same dismal sense of shame that always settled over him in the aftermath of a battle.

  He had duped the priest, he had used the Emperor’s daughter for his spying, and he had been lied to in turn. He wondered if any of this manoeuvring would come to any good. All he knew for now was that the great adventure was almost over.

  XCI

  MIAO-YEN SAT at the screened window of the pavilion known as the Palace of the Reflecting Moon. It had been constructed in such a way that the view of the moonrise over the mountains could be enjoyed to its best effect. Tonight a blood moon hung low above the bamboo stands, and was reflected in the still waters of the black lake.

  It was a rare and breath-taking sight but tonight it pleased her not at all.

  On top of her dressing table her cosmetics and jewellery spilled out of a box of red lacquered wood. Next to them lay a mirror of polished bronze. She picked it up and stared at her reflection in the glow of the painted silk lanterns that hung from the ceiling.

  The face that stared back at her was that of a Chin princess, hair teased in the manner of a Chin, face powdered and painted in the way of a Chin. But in her heart she was a Tatar, one of the Blue Mongol of Chinggis Khan, and she yearned to ride.

  She stared across the lake, at the chimera of the moon in the water. She felt a shiver along her spine, perhaps some clairvoyance of a darker future. In sudden rage she drew back her arm and hurled the mirror away from her. A moment later she heard it drop into the lake.

  And then the night was silent again, except for the chirruping song of the crickets.

  XCII

  THEY WERE USHERED before the Son of Heaven for the last time, while his courtiers, generals, shamans and saffron-robed Tanguts looked on. It was a ceremonial occasion, and this time there would be no informal words between them as there had been on the howdah. This time the Emperor would speak only through Phags-pa lama.

  ‘T
he barbarians from the West have made petition to the Son of Heaven for clemency and protection,’ Phags-pa announced.

  Josseran smiled grimly, and wondered what William would say if he heard their treaty thus characterized.

  ‘The Emperor wishes it known that if the barbarians desire to live in peace with us, we will fight the Saracens together as far as their borders and leave to them the rest of the earth to the west until it is our pleasure to take it away from them. In return the barbarians will send one hundred of their shamans to our court here in Shang-tu to serve us.’ A courtier stepped forward and handed Josseran a parchment in Uighur script, sealed with the royal chop. ‘This is a letter for your king, the Pope, confirming the essence of the treaty,’ Phags-pa said.

  Another courtier handed Josseran a gold tablet, which he called a paizah, similar to the one he had seen worn by the yam riders. It was a flat plate of gold engraved with falcons and leopards and imprinted with the seal of the Emperor.

  ‘Place this around your neck and do not take it off. This tablet places you under the Emperor’s protection. With this you will receive escort and succour across the entire world, from the Middle Kingdom to the very rim of the earth, which is under the command of the Son of Heaven.’

  Josseran took the golden tablet. He read, in the Uighur script which so closely resembled classical Arabic: By the strength of Eternal Heaven! May the name of the Khan of Khans be holy! He who doth not pay him reverence shall be slain and must die!

  There were other gifts to be presented; a bolt of finest silk, a watercolour, a scroll of Chin calligraphy, black on red. He was also handed a Tatar bow. ‘The Emperor lets it be known that this is his seal on the treaty between us,’ Phags-pa announced. ‘It is to remind the barbarian Pope, who is king of the Christians in the western lands, that should he ever break his word and fight against us, such bows can reach far and hit hard.’

  ‘What are they saying?’ William asked him.

  Should I tell him that it is ratification of a secret treaty between the Order of the Temple and the Tatars? Josseran thought. That Hülegü was now bound to fight with the Franks against the Saracens? He does not need to know such details. ‘It is a letter of friendship to the Holy Father from the Emperor. He commends his felicity and asks for a hundred priests to journey here to start the work of conversion.’

  ‘A hundred priests? This is indeed good news. We Dominicans shall be at the forefront of such a ministry. And does the Emperor also abase himself before God?’

  ‘I think not, Brother William.’

  William seemed on the verge of tears. ‘Why not? You must beg him to reconsider! Tell him that if he fears for his mortal soul he must embrace the Lord Jesus Christ!’

  ‘He has said all he will say on the matter.’

  William gave a long, shuddering sigh. ‘Then I have failed. The woman was right. He is recalcitrant.’

  ‘He has asked for one hundred priests. Surely that gives us cause for hope.’

  ‘If the king will not accept our holy religion, what good is it?’

  ‘Be that as it may, we have done all that we can. The invitation to one hundred priests is not an insignificant achievement.’ Josseran moved backwards to the door, never once turning his back on the Emperor, as was the custom. As soon as they were outside William fell to his knees and again prayed for divine intervention.

  By the sacred foreskins of all the saints! The man will wear out his knees!

  Josseran walked away and left him there.

  XCIII

  ‘IT IS CALLED the Garden of the Refreshing Spring,’ Miao-yen told him.

  A stream murmured into a small pond where golden long-life fishes moved slowly in the dark waters. Ancient, gnarled pines curled over the path; incense burned in a grotto carved into the rock face of a waterfall. The hollows were redolent with the scent of jasmine and orchids.

  Miao-yen twirled a parasol of green silk over her shoulder to shield herself from the hot afternoon sun. ‘So you are leaving Shangtu,’ she said.

  ‘We are racing the winter to the Roof of the World.’

  ‘So there are to be no more prayers and no more stories about Gesu?’

  ‘No, my lady. And no more paternosters.’

  ‘I shall miss you, Christian. But I shall not miss the odour of your companion’s body. How do you endure it? Even the ducks swim to the other side of the lake when he comes here.’

  Josseran had only ever met with her before this seated in her pavilion or on her pleasure barge. This was the first time he had seen her walk and he was struck by her strange, waddling gait. The reason for it was immediately obvious. Beneath the long gown he glimpsed a pair of impossibly tiny feet clad in silken slippers. They were so small it was a wonder she could move around at all.

  She noticed the direction of his stare. ‘My feet please you?’

  ‘It pleased Nature to make them so small?’

  ‘Nature did not do this.’

  He looked puzzled.

  ‘My feet were bound when I was a small child. My father ordered it. He thinks one day to marry me to a Chinese prince and he wishes me to embody all that the Chin find beautiful.’

  ‘Your feet are bound up? Does it distress you?’

  She gave him a smile of infinite pain. ‘How may I answer that?’ She stopped walking and looked up at him. ‘I was four years old when my mother first wrapped tight bandages around my toes, curling them under my feet. Then she placed large rocks on the instep to crush the bones.’

  ‘God’s holy blood,’ Josseran breathed.

  ‘It is not something you do but once. The foot, of course, tries to heal itself. So the toes have to be crushed again and again. I cannot remove the bindings. Even now.’

  ‘That is unspeakable,’ he managed, finally.

  ‘On the contrary, I have heard men say it is very beautiful. The Chin call them lily feet. For them such dainties are the epitome of womanhood. Perhaps they also think it is beautiful to see a leper or a one-armed man.’ She blushed and lowered her face. ‘Again, I speak too freely with you. It is because of the part of me that is still Tatar.’ She gazed wistfully into the black water. ‘My grandmother and my great-grandmother were thought to be very great women. They both ruled as regents of the clan while the men waited for the khuriltai. I shall never rule anywhere. A girl with lily feet is no more use than a cripple.’

  ‘I could never imagine you as anything other than fair and wise,’ he said to her.

  She bobbed her head at the compliment, but did not smile. ‘My mother was a concubine from the ordo of Tarakhan, my father’s third wife. Perhaps if I had been born to Chabi instead, he would have treated me otherwise.’

  They stood for a long time, listening to the murmur of the water. Josseran was unable to dispel the image of a young girl constantly tortured beyond pain for the sake of fashion, at her father’s whim.

  ‘You must be eager to return to your home,’ she said at last.

  ‘I am eager to take back the news of our treaty with the Emperor.’

  ‘And yet there is great sadness in your face. You do not wish to go.’

  ‘This journey has opened my eyes to the vastness of the earth. I have seen things other men only dream of. Now I fear that when I return to my own world its boundaries, even its beliefs, will be too small for me.’

  ‘You fear they will bind your feet.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I imagine that is what I mean.’

  ‘Is that all that makes you sad?’

  How could he explain to her about Khutelun? He knew that when he returned to Acre the dream of her would disappear along with his memories of Shang-tu and the great, shimmering desert of Goin-and-you-will-never-come-out. His heart ached. Yet what else could he do but make himself forget?

  ‘You know your return will be more dangerous than your first passage here?’ she said to him.

  ‘How is that possible?’

  ‘Has my father the Emperor told you there is civil war between him and his brother
in Qaraqorum?’

  Josseran shook his head. Khubilai had not entrusted him with such information, though he had suspected it. He had seen a vast army of soldiers leave the city a few days before, headed west. ‘Ariq Böke also calls himself Khan of Khans, and he has the backing of the Golden Clan, the descendants of Chinggis Khan.’

  ‘Your father, then, is the usurper?’

  ‘Usurper?’ She smiled. ‘Let me tell you this. Most of my father’s soldiers are levies, Chinese or Uighur or Tangut or Burmese, but they have been trained in Mongol tactics by Mongol generals. The infantry are armed with short stabbing spears, not for use against men but to bring down horses. Once the vast numbers of our enemies meant nothing in the face of Tatar cavalry, but now, thanks to my father, the Chin and Uighur soldiers they once so easily defeated are more than a match. Khubilai has lost his home and his legitimacy but in return he has gained an empire. So now it is Ariq Böke who is the usurper. Because as sure as the sun will rise and set, he will not defeat my father on the battlefield and it is power that makes the Khan of Khans, not legitimacy.’

  ‘And what of you?’ Josseran whispered.

  ‘Me?’ she whispered, not truly understanding his question.

  ‘Which Great Khan do you believe is the usurper?’

  ‘My opinion does not matter. I am neither Mongol nor Chin. I have the blood of Chinggis Khan but the feet of a Chinese princess. I cannot ride a horse or even walk very far on my own. I am not a Person any more. I am my father’s sacrifice to those he has conquered.’ She stopped walking. ‘I am tired now. You should leave. I hope we shall meet again.’

  ‘I do not think such a happy event is likely. But I wish you the peace of God.’

  ‘To you also. And a thousand blessings on Our-Father-Who-Artin-Heaven,’ she said, using the name she had given to William.

  ‘My lady,’ he murmured and bowed.

  And there he left her, in the Garden of the Refreshing Spring, the princess with the heart of a Tatar, the body of a doll and the tiny, terrible, lily feet of a child.