Wayward Son

by Tom Pollack

  While Kwok-se examined a jeweler’s topaz collection with a view toward securing a gift for his daughter in Xi’an, Cain amused himself by bargaining with a Chinese trader for a small sandalwood image of the Buddha. In addition to serving as a fulcrum for worldly goods, Kashgar was a Buddhist refuge, with dozens of monasteries dotted around the town. Bantering in Chinese, Cain offered to barter with the man, producing one of the small pocket compasses he had brought along for the journey. The trader had never seen such a device before and stared in amazement. After Cain briefly explained the uses of the magnetic pointer, the Chinese merchant readily agreed to the deal. “Kung-hsi Fa-ts’ai!” he exclaimed. “Happy New Year!”

  During their layover in Kashgar, they spent many hours discussing the ways in which Emperor Qin Shihuangdi had forged a unified China. The emperor’s father had reigned over the Qin state for only three years, with his son inheriting the succession at the tender age of thirteen. By the time he was twenty-five, the new ruler had foiled several coups and assassination attempts. He then subjugated seven warring states, achieving by the age of forty an accomplishment that few had thought possible. Now he was engaged in building a great wall to secure his northern frontier against invading nomads.

  “Where does the labor come from for such a formidable undertaking?” Cain asked.

  Kwok-se stared at Cain incredulously. “Surely you jest, Philo. He is the emperor!”

  Inferring that the manpower was supplied by peasants, slaves, or conquered enemies, Cain changed the subject.

  “Tell me more about the elixir of immortality. How has the emperor discovered such a wonder drug?”

  Kwok-se’s face was impassive. “When the time is right, you will be able to pose that question to His Majesty yourself,” he replied.

  “And what have been the results of unification?”

  On this topic, Kwok-se was more forthcoming. “Unification of the states has been an epochal achievement. Weights, measures, and coinage have been standardized, permitting vast new commercial growth. Law and administration are applied uniformly and consistently. Most important of all, everyone now speaks the same language, by order of the emperor.”

  “The emperor’s writ certainly runs wide.”

  “He has surely been sent to us from heaven,” Kwok-se remarked gravely.

  “When do you think we will arrive in Xi’an?”

  “That is in the hands of fate. But we must be in the capital before next winter sets in. I have a wedding to attend.”

  “Who is getting married?” inquired Cain.

  “You will see, my friend! Your honored self is on the invitation list.”

  ***

  The travelers departed from Kashgar at the close of the New Year celebrations. They still had twenty-five hundred miles to go to Xi’an, the Emperor’s capital, and it was bitterly cold in the desert. Slowly, however, spring crept across the face of China. When they arrived in Dunhuang, where the northern arm of the Silk Road rejoined the southern route, temperatures were positively balmy. Here they glimpsed the stone and earth fortifications of the emperor’s great wall, as well as the delicate, colorful murals in the local Buddhist grottoes.

  “Buddhism seems extremely widespread in your land, Kwok-se,” ventured Cain. “I have heard tell, however, that the most influential social and ethical philosophy in China is the legacy of the teacher Confucius.”

  In a rare display of impatience, Kwok-se abruptly shook his head. “No, Philo, Confucius is not to the emperor’s liking. Or I should say, he is not to the emperor’s prime minister’s liking. Li Si cannot tolerate Confucius. In fact, he has persuaded the emperor to outlaw Confucian books and scholarship. Whole libraries have been burned…and worse.”

  Recalling Alexandria a bit wistfully now, Cain decided not to inquire what “worse” might refer to.

  They were halfway between Dunhuang and Lanzhou when bandits accosted them. “Don’t worry,” Kwok-se smilingly reassured his fellow traveler as their caravan was rapidly surrounded by several hundred horsemen. “I have something to show them.”

  Cain watched closely as his friend, mounted on his favorite black Arabian stallion, calmly approached the bandit chieftain. Kwok-se withdrew several articles from his saddlebag, and within minutes the chieftain lowered his head in submission, murmuring a few words. With a jaunty salute to the chieftain’s followers, Kwok-se rejoined Cain.

  “What did you show him?”

  “Oh, I simply displayed to him my golden passports from His Sovereign Majesty. Remember, I am a diplomat by profession,” Kwok-se replied nonchalantly. “We shouldn’t have any trouble from here on. In fact, they have offered to escort us the rest of the way to the capital. Since that is nearly eight hundred miles, the bandits are making a meaningful gesture.” Kwok-se threw Cain a wink. “I told their chief I would be sure to inform His Majesty.”

  And so the caravan gradually neared Xi’an, the capital city of the First Sovereign Emperor, traveling on a system of excellent roads and canals that His Majesty had caused to be built. About fifty miles from their destination, a strange sight puzzled Cain. The broad highway was partitioned into three compartments, with walls constructed to seal off a center lane.

  “What is the reason for the walls along this highway?” he inquired.

  “Ever since an assassination attempt several years ago,” Kwok-se replied, “the emperor has devised unusual safety precautions on his travels. He has ordered a network of walled roads for the imperial outings he undertakes from time to time. He also uses a suite of identical carriages.”

  A visionary, Cain thought. But also a man who was both hated and feared.

  ***

  The following morning, Cain and Kwok-se enjoyed breakfast on the veranda of Kwok-se’s picturesque estate on the banks of the River Wei in Xi’an. Cain wondered how a midlevel diplomat could afford such palatial surroundings of this magnitude. But then he recalled that Kwok-se and the ruler had grown up together as children—a fact that his friend had revealed during a late-night drinking session on the Silk Road.

  After their meal, they were escorted to the imperial palace by a detachment of ramrod-straight bodyguards, clad in sleek body armor and black pheasant-tailed caps. The emperor’s palace, located in the northwest quadrant of the city with splendid river views and lavish gardens festooned in riotous colors, was built on an astonishing scale. Above the dozen wings of the principal structure, a kaleidoscopic series of pagodas formed a veritable skyline. It dwarfed anything Cain had ever seen, including his palace in Enoch.

  The great bronze doors were adorned with pale green porcelain and lavender jade inlays depicting dragons, foo dogs, and demons in combat. As they slowly swung open, the imperial master of ceremonies bowed low to the visitors. “Please take your seats in the throne room, gentlemen,” he intoned.

  “Remember the motto,” murmured Kwok-se. Cain had it on the tip of his tongue.

  He estimated the throne room was two hundred yards by one hundred and fifty. On such a scale, thousands of people could be accommodated at imperial audiences. This morning, however, it appeared that the enormous hall had been reserved especially for them, with but one exception.

  Li Si, the Emperor’s prime minister, entered grandly dressed in flowing robes of gold-embroidered black silk. He bowed ceremoniously.

  “Kwok-se, dear to His Majesty’s heart, how happy is your return from foreign lands! The Emperor rejoices in your safe arrival here in Xi’an.”

  Something in the prime minister’s manner signaled to Cain that the words were not entirely sincere.

  Responding with exaggerated courtesy of his own, Kwok-se replied jovially, “Surely you jest! Of course we are safe! The imperial bandits accompanied us here all the way from Lanzhou.”

  Li Si raised an eyebrow. “Bandits, you say? I know of no such bandits in our precincts. In China, the rule of law is as universal as it is absolute.”

  At that very moment, with the reverberation of an enormous gong, the First Empe
ror entered the hall, surrounded by groups of scribes, guards, and ministers of state. All three men bowed low as His August Majesty, Qin Shihuangdi, ascended his throne of emerald, jade, and gold.

  Cain studied the ruler’s features. About forty-five, he had the body of a warrior, as well as a few facial scars, evidencing past combat. His head was surmounted by a tightly twisted topknot. He sported a double-edged Jian sword in a black brocade belt wrapped around his tunic. The “gentleman of weapons,” as the Chinese saying went, the sword looked as if the blade had been carved from a single piece of jade. Altogether a commanding presence.

  Cain had not anticipated the voice, however. In a booming, resonant bass, the emperor began the audience by addressing his scribes.

  “Let the reports on the revenues from each commandery be in my hands no later than tomorrow evening,” he ordered, referring to the administrative districts into which all China was now divided. “You are now dismissed, my scribes, so that you will not fail to fulfill my orders.”

  Turning to his prime minister, the emperor inquired if there were any matters deserving of the ruler’s attention. Li Si, gesturing to Kwok-se and Cain, addressed the ruler in a fawning tone.

  “The travelers from abroad attend on you, sire,” he said, somewhat superfluously.

  As if on cue, Kwok-se and Cain promptly straightened from their bows. The emperor cast a bemused gaze on both his visitors. He motioned to Kwok-se to address him.

  “The bright virtue of the August Emperor aligns and orders the whole universe,” the emperor’s old friend recited.

  “You are safely returned, Kwok-se! The sight of you gladdens my heart!” His affection for his schoolmate was obvious.

  “Majesty, I have brought from the Far West some gifts for your inspection.” Palace guards, who had transported a selection of the treasures from Alexandria, promptly laid them out directly in front of the throne. An appreciative smile brightened the emperor’s face, although Cain thought it was peculiar that no papyrus scrolls were included in the collection of gifts.

  After a few minutes, during which the emperor inspected the gifts, Kwok-se continued, “But the most valuable treasure I have secured in Egypt stands beside me in your presence, Majesty. I have the distinct privilege to introduce you to Philo of Alexandria, the most eminent cartographer of his, or any, age.”

  An even broader smile radiated from the emperor’s face.

  “A cartographer? How delightful! Is the foreigner perchance conversant with our language?” Qin Shihuangdi seemed afflicted with some sort of nervous tic, causing him to blink his left eye irregularly, but it did not detract from the man’s imposing dynamism.

  Cain again bowed low and then recited, “The bright virtue of the August Emperor aligns and orders the whole universe.” His accentual, rhythmic tones were perfect. The emperor had not expected a visitor gifted with such fluency.

  “You speak our language magnificently, Philo of Alexandria. I am delighted! May I see a sample of your cartographic work?”

  Having been primed by Kwok-se, Cain withdrew from a satchel a papyrus roll on which he had created a beautifully detailed map of the Mediterranean coastline, ranging westward from ancient Phoenicia in the Levant to the Pillars of Hercules at Gibraltar. He spread the scroll out at the foot of the throne. The emperor signaled a servant to bring the map to him so that he could examine it more closely.

  “This is extraordinary! Maps are my passion. Will you be able to accept a commission for some new projects?”

  “I would be honored, Majesty,” replied Cain, knowing that to refuse would be ungracious, at the very least. “What do you wish?”

  “Here in the palace in Xi’an,” the Emperor gestured around with a lordly sweep of his left arm, “we harbor large dreams. I have a dining room that accommodates six thousand guests for state dinners. On one wall of this room, I desire a map of the entire western world. Can you fulfill my desire?”

  “I have traveled far and wide, Majesty. I will attempt to do your bidding.”

  “Excellent!” declared the Emperor. “Now, my ministers, you may depart.” Bowing in salutation, all the attendees at the audience, including Li Si, processed from the room.

  When they were gone, the Emperor rose and descended the steps from the throne. Throwing his arms around Kwok-se, he embraced him warmly.

  “How I have missed you these five long years! You must never leave me again. And we have the wedding plans to discuss, Kwok-se. Winter is not far off.”

  To Cain’s astonishment, the wedding Kwok-se had returned to Xi’an to attend, and to which Cain was invited, would unite Kwok-se’s own daughter with the emperor’s second son, Hu Hai, in marriage.

  The emperor changed the subject abruptly and addressed Cain.

  “The dimensions of the palace dining room will be conveyed to you by my secretaries. I hope you will be able to start on the map immediately. It will be an important addition. But for now, my wish is for you both to accompany me on a royal outing.”

  Gazing at Kwok-se meaningfully, the ruler imparted, “In your absence, I have accelerated a prized new project, old friend! There has been nothing like it ever before. Nothing!”

  The emperor’s left eye blinked rapidly, while Kwok-se and Cain bowed in assent. Placing his arms around the shoulders of his guests, Emperor Qin Shihuangdi swept them out of the throne room.

  CHAPTER 48

  China, 213–212 BC

  THEY RODE IN RUMBLING, elaborately decorated imperial carriages down the highway’s walled center lane to a destination nearly twenty miles east of Xi’an, just beyond Huaqing Hot Springs. The First Emperor was clearly relishing the suspense he had created in his guests.

  “Have you any idea where we are headed?” he asked Kwok-se, poking him jovially on the arm.

  “How could I, Majesty? It is you who have graciously planned today’s itinerary.”

  They alighted in front of an enormous earthen mound. There were no buildings visible as far as the eye could see.

  Kwok-se ventured a question to his old friend. “Have you brought us here, then, to appreciate this beautiful countryside?”

  The emperor guffawed. “Surely you jest! You see, do I not remember your mercurial manner of speaking, old friend? Come, follow me.”

  Attended by the palace escort, they circled on foot to the back side of the towering mound. To the guests’ amazement, the earth lay open, with tens of thousands of laborers working in a deep, subterranean pit in utter silence. As with everything undertaken by the First Emperor, the scale of the excavation was mind-boggling.

  “What figures are those men fashioning?” asked Kwok-se as he pointed to an array of life-size statues.

  “They are creating my army, my friend. Out of terra-cotta, but the warriors’ swords and the other weapons are real.” The emperor turned to inspect the clay army before continuing. “And so will be the soldiers, once the heavens endow them with the breath of life.”

  “But surely, Majesty, do you not already have a full roster of living and breathing troops?”

  “Of course, of course,” replied the emperor with an impatient wave of the hand and some more rapid eye blinks. “But these troops are special. Unlike my run-of-the-mill conscripts, or even my heroic veteran officers, these will live forever.” He drew rapid breaths for emphasis.

  Cain recalled Kwok-se’s previous remarks on the subject of the emperor’s obsession with immortality. He stared at the serried ranks of terra-cotta soldiers, each of them life-size and impeccably attired in studded plate armor. The workers were evidently using an assembly-line technique to create the torsos, with individual heads and limbs subsequently added to fashion an immense gallery of lifelike, realistically differentiated individuals. At least two thousand troops had been completed, with ample space in this pit for thousands more. Their robes, in brilliant vermilion and green, imbued them with an extraordinary vitality. Such a force could certainly withstand any hostile charge in the spirit world.

  They
continued on. Beyond a nearby hillside were factory buildings housing workshops for bronze chariots, terra-cotta horses, and the manufacture of clay acrobats and musicians. Exquisite bronze waterfowl accompanied the instrumentalists, a graceful embellishment for their never-to-be-heard melodies. Yet another factory was devoted solely to stone armor and helmets.

  Cain, emboldened by the emperor’s magnanimous mood and apparently close friendship with Kwok-se, sensed it might be the appropriate time to probe the ruler’s interest in a life without end. Still, he took care to phrase his question tactfully.

  “When we first met in Alexandria, Majesty, Kwok-se informed me that you had discovered a potion or elixir that confers immortality. Is it not so?”

  The emperor turned to him and lowered his voice. “I was hoping to discover it,” he confided. “I even made two visits to Zhifu Island—you must know it, yes?—and dispatched hundreds of inhabitants there to search Penglai Mountain on that quest. They never returned.” He paused and chuckled. “But then, to return without the elixir would have required them to demonstrate their own mortality, wouldn’t it?”

  There was an awkward pause in the conversation. Then the emperor continued, “But we have not finished, gentlemen. Come this way!” He held his hand aloft, as if he were signaling a sizable group of visitors to follow him.

  As they strolled briskly westward, the emperor explained that the entire burial complex occupied an area of approximately twenty-five square miles. Cain cast his mind back to the Egyptians. In comparison with the Valley of the Kings opposite Luxor, in whose graves many pharaohs had been interred, the emperor’s complex was enormous. The First Emperor’s necropolis dwarfed even the Great Pyramids.

  Behind a strongly fortified wall in the distance there loomed an even more gigantic, mound-like structure. “Now that is the reason for all this. You see how well it is positioned. The slopes of Mt. Li guard it to the south, and the River Wei lies on the northern side. To the west, the Qinling Mountains protect it. And my terra-cotta army guards the eastern side.”