by G R Matthews
“It might help them get used to idea when they find out that gold and a substantial deposit of iron ore has been discovered in the mountains. The village is will become an important stop over on the major trade between mountains and my capital city with all the advantages and money that can bring.” Deshi smiled.
“Not all the farmers round here are that interested in money, Your Lordship.” The chief’s foot was still tapping on the wooden floor. “Some will get used to it but not all.”
“Then they can move elsewhere, can’t they. There is money and wealth to be made here. Lives will change but a brave man could make a fortune in the next few months. I will have that land, and I will build the Administrator’s office upon it. Tax will be collected here and be assured that you will get your cut.” Deshi raised his hand accepting the chief’s thanks.
“I am grateful to Your Lordship,” the man’s foot tapping even faster. “Might I ask you first, to visit the tree and talk to the folks hereabouts? Might make them take the news better if they thought you understood and cared.”
“I suppose I have nothing better to do tomorrow,” Deshi sighed. The price of power was high but then so were the rewards. “Could you stop the foot tapping? It is very distracting.
“Of course and thank you, Your Lordship,” and the chief’s foot finally went still.
Chapter 2 – Of bugs and little girls
Deshi spent a cold night in the tent. The fire warmed the evening air and the blankets were soft, but the chill radiating from his wife stole all the heat from the bed. He was glad when the lightening of the tent fabric indicated the dawn of a new day. Making one last attempt at peace, and a quiet life, he rolled over and kissed his wife’s bare shoulder as tenderly as he could. She shrugged it out from under his lips.
“Fine,” he threw off the covers and clambered out of bed. One of the joys of travelling was being able to dress yourself. Since becoming the Duke, ten years ago, a gaggle of women would dress him every morning. At first, like any young man, he had found the whole procedure quite enjoyable. It afforded him the opportunity to take his pleasure with the servants, though he gave little thought to theirs. But now it was the simple things like struggling into his boots and belting up his tunic that he enjoyed.
The small tinkle from a bell sounded from outside and at his call, the tent flap was lifted. A lone servant entered carrying a plate of steaming food.
“I hope you had a good night’s sleep, My Lord,” the man said as he placed the tray down on the gold inlaid table near the fire.
“Anything special this morning?” Deshi asked, peering at the tray.
“I am afraid not, My Lord. The baggage train was not entirely replenished at our last stop. I have asked the chef to prepare a sweet congee and some Yu Za Kuei, just the way you like them, My Lord.”
Deshi picked up one of the deep-fried devils and dipped it into the milky white congee. Biting off the end, he chewed slowly enjoying the texture of the dough and the warm sweetness of the congee. “Inform my Jiin-Wei that we will be going into the village in a short while.”
“As you order, My Lord,” the servant bowed low and left, dropping the tent flap back into place.
In the event, it was almost an hour later when Deshi emerged from his tent. Two soldiers snapped to attention, long tasselled spears held up straight before them. The other man remained seated. A long, thin, double-edged Jian sword rested on his lap which, with flowing sweeps of a whetstone, he was sharpening.
Deshi sucked in a breath to admonish the man. The words stayed, trapped, in Deshi’s throat as the man looked up into the Duke’s eyes.
“I am ready when you are, My Lord,” the Jiin-Wei said, a warm, soft voice at odds with the cold, hard eyes.
“Good, good.” Deshi found that his hands were sweating and he rubbed them down the front of his silk tunic, “Then let’s go. Guo, we’re just going to have a little look at this sacred tree and speak to a few of the locals to smooth the path. You understand?”
“Of course, My Lord,” Guo moved from seated to standing in one fluid motion that had no start or end. It was just as if he had never been sat down at all.
“Right, good.” Deshi gritted his teeth and cursed his beating heart, but the man always made him nervous. The four of them walked the short distance from the camp to the centre of the village and its tree.
Close to thirty metres tall, the crown of green and gold spear bladed leaves opened out and spread its arms across the village. Deshi watched the sparkles of sunlight drift through the gently swaying canopy. He caught himself staring, hypnotised by the light. He glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed. The two soldiers were paying him no attention. However, Guo was staring straight at him, no expression on his face. Blast that man, Deshi thought.
Sinuous ridges and deep fissures ran vertically through the soft bark on which he rested his hand. A mountain kingdom in miniature, ruled over by the bugs and insects that called its lofty peaks and dark valleys home. The wood was warm, even in the shade, and Deshi could feel it spread up his arm towards his chest. He took a deep breath enjoying the comfort, like an open fire on a cold night, a cup of freshly made tea, the welcoming arms of a young servant girl.
“Ow!” Deshi stumbled back from the tree. A sharp pain in the palm of his hand raced up and stabbed a million needles into his brain. He waved his hand in the air and then cinched it between his thighs, bending over in agony.
“My Lord,” both soldiers shouted and raced to his aid.
“I’m fine, fine. I think something bit me is all. Bit of a surprise.” Deshi looked up to see the lack of reaction in the Jiin-Wei’s eyes. He could swear that a slight sardonic smile touched the man’s lips.
“Are you injured,” the Jiin-Wei paused before adding, “My Lord?”
“No, no.” Deshi examined the palm of his hand for the tell-tale raised white bump of an insect bite. There was nothing there though his hand itched and he rubbed it against the fabric of his trousers.
“Is there a beast you wish me to slay?” Guo said
“I do wish you would stop this.” The duke gave the other man a pleading look.
“My role is to keep you safe from harm. The Emperor commanded me so when he gifted my service to you.” Guo rested a hand on the wrapped leather grip of his sword.
“Not a hard or onerous task,” Deshi responded, checking his palm once more.
“No, My Lord.” Guo looked around at the village and the tree, “But not one that makes any demands on my skills. No offence, Lord Deshi, but your province is safe and secure. Where are the bandits, the traitors, or the spies for me to root out and deal with? That is what I was trained to do. A servant adding too much salt to the won ton soup does not need me to investigate, nor does it constitute an attempted poisoning.”
Deshi had the good grace to look away from the Jiin-Wei’s direct gaze, “Yes, well, anyway.”
“Mummy says that you should rub leaves on a needle ant sting.” The small, high-pitched voice startled Deshi. There was a rasp of steel as the Guo’s sword cleared its scabbard.
Long dark hair reached down to her waist and the little girl looked up with even darker eyes under delicate brows and an innocent smile. “I can’t reach but I’m sure one of your friends will get some for you.”
Deshi relished the smile he gave Guo as he gestured for the Jiin-Wei to sheathe his sword. “I don’t think this little girl means us any harm but if you could see your way to gathering the leaves she spoke of.”
He lowered himself on to his knees, bringing his eyes level with the girl’s. She wore a simple white dress, tied at the waist with green belt and, he noticed, no shoes. Deshi gave her his friendliest smile, “How old are you, little girl?”
“I will be seven next harvest time,” she said in a deliberate, serious tone, “and I am not a little girl.”
“My apologies, young lady.” Deshi bowed to her, “might I be permitted to know your name?”
“Shēngmìng. Who are you?”
> “My name is Deshi. I am the Duke of Ya’an. I have come to see your village and to make it richer.”
“But you came to see the village tree first? Everyone comes to the tree.” The girl ran a tender hand down the bark, fingers dipping and trailing across the rough surface.
“Be careful of the needle ants,” Deshi cautioned. “It is a nice tree. I’m afraid it will have to be cut down.”
“I would be too,” the girl said without turning from the tree. “Why do you want to?”
“To make room for a new building.” Deshi looked up through the canopy to the blue sky. “It will be a shame but your mummy and daddy will be better off.”
“But we like the tree,” she said. “It has always been here. Before there was a village the tree was here. When the village is gone, the tree will still be here. The village needs the tree.”
“All things must change,” Deshi said.
The girl finally turned from caressing the bark to face him, “I don’t think so.”
Deshi drew in his breath to respond but then thought better of it. “Perhaps I should speak to your parents, where can I find them?”
“They’re not here,” she had turned back to the tree and was trailing a single, dainty finger down one of the crevices in the bark. He held his breath.
“I can see that, Shēngmìng,” and he softened the words with a smile which fell impotent against her back, “I meant where can I find them?”
“There will be a wedding here tomorrow, you know. You should come back then.” The little girl turned again, hair spraying out and carving a graceful arc before falling back to its natural straight lines. She smiled at him as she skipped round the large trunk and out of view.
Deshi, still crouching, glanced at the soldiers and then faced Guo, who sat, cross legged on the ground, sheathed sword resting on his knees, “I think we’ll come back tomorrow.”
Chapter 3 – Of stars and skirts
The four men returned to the camp by the river. The late morning sun was dancing across the ripples on the water and the reeds waved in the gentle breeze. Far away, the mountains rose into the sky. The tents, arrayed in a perfect square were a creamy white against the green of the land. The rolling hills disappeared into the distance and Deshi sighed as he looked in the direction of Ya’an. Above it all, the clear blue sky of spring. At night, he knew, the stars and moon would replace the sun’s yellow warmth with chill silver.
“Guo, have you been following the debate the astronomers are having?” Deshi asked the Jiin-Wei, “What do the Fang-Shi think of it all?”
“I have no interest in their debates, nor in the thinking of the court magicians, My Lord. I learnt all that they can teach me and ceased listening many years ago,” Guo’s bored tone irritated Deshi.
“Really? You are missing out on so much,” Deshi altered his course through the tents. “Let me educate you a little, one must learn something new every day.”
Guo sat on the chair the Duke directed him to, drawing the scabbarded sword from his sash and resting it against his legs, “My Lord, really?”
“Yes, I think so, Guo. We have some time to kill and I find the debate interesting, though much of it is beyond me.” Deshi took the other chair and waved at servant to bring tea.
“Surely your wife is a much better conversationalist than I, My Lord. She is, I understand, quite educated for a woman.”
“Yes, well, she doesn’t listen much to me. But you, if I command, must listen.” Deshi grinned, white teeth shining in the sunlight, “and I do so command.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Guo grunted.
“There are currently three schools of thought regarding the nature of the heavens. Not the Jade Heaven, of course, there is no debate on that. Anyway, the first school speaks of a dome, a hemisphere if you will, which they call the ‘Gai Tan.’It overlies our similarly hemispherical earth.”
“Bollocks,” Guo said, “pardon your ears, My Lord.”
“You have an insight that contradicts their conclusions then?”
“The world is a sphere, not half of one; any decent sailor or magician can tell you that. Only look at the horizon watch a ship sail away. Before long the sail has dipped over the horizon, it must be curved. And why should the curve cease? It must go on and around. I am sure that, if you sailed for long and far enough, you would arrive at the very place you began your journey.”
“I had wondered on their view. Still, an invigorating discussion already and it is here that the Hun Tian school agree with you. They see the heavens as a sphere surrounding a spherical world.” Deshi sat back in his chair, pleased to have cornered the Jiin-Wei in the discussion.
“Wrong again,” Guo accepted the tea from the servant and took a sip. “Are the stars merely paintings or etchings upon this fantastically enormous sphere they envisage?”
“I confess, I am not sure of that detail,” Deshi took a sip from his own cup, “but why would they not be?”
“Simple reasons. First, they shine down during the night, no painting or etching I have ever heard of produces light. The Fang-Shi can create light but enough for the whole globe?” Guo dipped a finger into his hot tea and used it to trace a simple symbol on the table. He muttered a single word and the symbol began to glow. The Jiin-Wei watched it for a few moments and then wiped it away with his hand. “The void would be drained of all power before that could happen even for a single night.”
“The void?” Deshi asked, intrigued, and focused on surface of the table. The Fang-Shi kept their secrets close and few knew how they made their magic.
“Second,” Guo hurried on, “you can travel the length of the Empire, vast as it is, and still not have been around the whole world. Any such crystalline dome that surrounded the earth would shatter under its own size and weight. Simple logic and math.”
“You apply logic to the mysteries of the cosmos, Guo?” Deshi took a longer drink of the cooling tea, savouring the flavour on his tongue and the scent in his nose.
“To as many things as possible, Lord Duke. It makes life simpler and easier to understand. What is the third school of thought?”
“Ah well, here they may find your favour. The Xuan Ye School explain that the cosmos is infinite. All the stars are like our sun and have their own planets. They drift through the heavens according to their own nature, not attached, painted or etched on to anything.” Deshi lifted his cup in salute.
“Mmm…,” the Jiin-Wei pondered for a moment, “how then do they explain that the sun always rises in near enough the same place, the moon does likewise and changes shape? I think they are on the right lines but they haven’t asked, or answered, some very basic questions yet.”
“Well they have… I mean, I am sure they have answered those questions. I am just not so sure what those answers were, I mean are.” Deshi put his cup down on the table with a heavy sigh, “Guo, I’ll put you in touch with the astronomers when we get back to Ya’an. You can get your answers from them, or infuriate them as much as you do me.”
“No need, My Lord. As I said, I am really not interested. I only listened and responded because you commanded it. Now, if that is all I have some duties to attend to.” Guo stood and bowed to Deshi before striding away, Jian sword in hand.
Deshi sat back in his chair and watched the Jiin-Wei vanish into one of the tents. Once sure he had gone and was not returning, Deshi rubbed a finger over the spot that had glowed. There was nothing there, no burn, no distortion, no residual warmth or cracking of the varnish. He raised the finger to his nose and sniffed, nothing but the fragrance of tea. He stuck out a cautious tongue and tasted his finger. Cold tea with a hint of wood varnish.
“Pah,” Deshi grabbed the tea cup and downed the last of the dregs before shouting for his servant to come and clear the table. As the servant carried out his bidding, he stared around at the camp seeking another diversion.
“Is my wife in her tent?” he asked as the servant picked up the tray.
“To the best of my knowled
ge, My Lord.”
Deshi walked over the trampled grass to his wife’s tent coming to a halt before the door flap. He could hear voices from inside and he cocked an ear trying to pick out the words. Little snippets, catches and mutterings were all he could make. He found himself caught between interrupting her privacy and satisfying his curiosity.
If it’s another man then that poor soul will soon be without the means to pleasure a woman or himself ever again, Deshi thought. Flicking the thick canvas to one side he strode in and placed closed fists upon his hips. He stood tall, feet shoulder width apart, puffed out his chest, and readied himself to speak.
The sight in front of him caused his chest deflate and his hands to fall away limp. All anger and self-righteousness fled his grasp. His wife, her beautiful smooth skin, bare slender shoulders, lustrous dark hair and soulful almond shaped eyes, stood in the centre of the room semi-naked. She clutched her dress around her body for modesty’s sake but his eyes drank in the shape and turn of her calves, stared at the swell of her breasts above the clutched material.
“What do you want now?” she snapped at him. “Can’t you see I am having a dress fitting?”
“Send her away,” Deshi’s voice deepened, turning husky.
“Why?” Sying looked down at the old woman who crouched by her feet, “I haven’t had a new dress since we began the journey and this lady here is the best tailor for miles around.”
“She’s probably the only tailor for miles around,” Deshi took a step forward feeling his blood change course and rush towards his groin.
“You stop right there. I am having a new dress made by Zhī,” indicating the old lady, “and she needs to get the measurements right. She says it will be ready by tomorrow afternoon and has invited me, us, to a wedding ceremony.”
“I’ve heard about that,” Deshi took another step into the tent, his breath coming more quickly.
“Zhī has been telling me all about that tree you want to cut down to build those ugly offices. Did you know that it has an amazing root system? They reach as far as the stream so that the tree will always have water, even in the height of summer when the rains don’t come. They know a lot about that tree in the village. It is very special to them.”