The Eagle and the Dragon, a Novel of Rome and China

by Lewis F. McIntyre

  Demosthenes, Alisher and Farahnaz exchanged a few words, and the smiles and gestures indicated to the Romans and to Ibrahim that there would be no language problem as long as Demosthenes was with them.

  Returning to han-yu, Alisher continued. “As a merchant I use many languages. Tocharian at home, Bactrian, han-yu and Parthian at work. A little Greek, but not well, I am sorry, though I can read it a bit. So enough about me. Tell me how you came to be here.” He addressed Aulus, since he knew from the Xiongnu that he was the senior man among them.

  Aulus launched into the whole story, the Gan Ying expedition, and the Roman mission in response. He pulled no punches, not omitting the hijacking and eventual alliance-turned-friendship with Ibrahim, the disaster in the Hanaean court, Ibrahim’s role in their escape and eventual link up with the Xiongnu, and the wedding at Liqian, though omitting the death of Wang Ming. The whole story took about half an hour.

  At the end, Alisher smiled at Ibrahim. “Your friend keeps secrets well. He told me you were just explorers, out to see strange new lands and have great adventures. Which you certainly seem to have done. I have one problem: if you are still at odds with Luoyang, they could seriously hurt my Chang’an route if they wish to retaliate against me for helping you.”

  Aulus had brought along with him their letter of safe passage they had been given in Liqian against just this eventuality, and handed it to him. “For whatever reason, Emperor He has had second thoughts, and his representatives gave us this in Liqian.” He handed the roll to Alisher, who read it and reread it.

  “Hmmm,” said Alisher, scrutinizing the seal for authenticity. “It’s not like Emperor He to change his mind like that.”

  “Well, we were not there when it happened. But happen it apparently did. His emissaries in Liqian wanted us to return to his court as his guests, but at that point, we declined. He gave us safe passage anyway.” Aulus paused, and continued, “Ibrahim did not lie to you, but he will not tell more than what he thinks a stranger needs to know, and his discretion has more than once saved our lives. But I thought you needed to know all about us, so you could choose whether to have us aboard or not.”

  “I appreciate your honesty. And for that, I will be happy to have you join us, if you wish. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a distinguished and strange set of fellow travelers!”

  “I do so wish,” answered Aulus, producing a clinking purse and putting it on the table. “Tell me about the connecting caravan to … where? Bagram?”

  “Well, my partner Behzad in Kashgar runs a route to Bagram through the Pamir Mountains beginning in May when the snows clear in the passes. So let’s see, travel to Kashgar will be two silver coins per person, and you will pay Behzad an additional one silver coin each.”

  Aulus counted out sixteen denarii. Alisher accepted them and put them in his pocket. “I will write you a letter of introduction for Behzad, and tell you how to find him. And speaking of letters, I believe this is yours. It came in from Liqian with the last caravan from Chang’an. Most unusual!” He handed Aulus the scroll.

  Aulus examined the unbroken seal, and saw his name in Latin, Greek, and some Hanaean characters. “Actually, I think this is yours, Marcia. From Marcus.” He handed her the scroll, and she took it with unsteady fingers. “You may wish to go off with Antonius to read it in private. You may share it with us, if the news is good.”

  He turned toward Alisher. “This letter is from her brother who remained behind in Liqian, with instructions to write and deliver it as best he could. It looks like it worked!”

  Antonius and Marcia went off to a corner of the roof, hoping the letter brought good news, but afraid that it might not. She fumbled with the seal and unrolled it, reading it softly aloud:

  Ave, dearest sister.

  I hope this letter finds you, Antonius, and all of our beloved party in good health, and by the time this reaches you, safely back in Roman territory. Mother and I are in good health, and she sends her regards. She regrets that she never learned to write Latin well, but I convey her words to you.

  Authorities from Lanzhou came here inquiring about our mutual friend. His absence has been noted, and they wished to know his whereabouts. We conveyed the information that you had provided, which seemed to satisfy them. I think we can permanently close the door on that most unhappy part of your life.

  As for my life, it has taken a most unexpected turn. My friend Frontinus’ cousin Mei was abandoned by her husband because she was barren. She was living with Frontinus’ family, at some burden to them, because it is difficult for a woman at her age, a bit older than me, to support herself. We found we shared a common interest in poetry and languages, and she is now residing in your never-again-to-be-used room with Mama and me. She is aware of my condition, and we find it no impediment to our happiness and pleasure. So, while the Lucian line may come to an abrupt end with me, I am sure that you and Antonius will happily make up for our inabilities, if you have not already done so. I do not know if we will wed, or simply reside together here at our home, but for now, in a manner that I never expected, I feel that I am, once again, a whole and complete man.

  I have not heard from Papa, I believe his spirit is finally at rest.

  Looking forward to your reply, no matter how many years it may take, I remain your loving brother.

  Marcus.

  Marcia read and reread her brother’s letter, her eyes brimming with tears. When she finished, she turned to hug Antonius and sobbed happily into his shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, gods!” she repeated over and over again, then to the group around the fire, “The news is all good!”

  They returned to take their place by the fire, and recapped the gist of the letter for everyone, Demosthenes translating for Farahnaz, who smiled at Marcia’s obvious delight.

  “With that, I think we should toast our lovely lady’s great good news!” Alisher said, raising his cup for everyone to join in. “So now, Marcia, would you explain to me how such a lovely Hanaean lady came by such blue eyes, a Da Qin name, and a proud husband?” he asked, his mustache quivering with amusement.

  With that, the business part was obviously over, and fingers reached for the greasy goat meat and nan. The talk went on till late at night, about themselves, the Carrhae legions, life in Rome, Liqian and Luoyang, about Turfam and its irrigation system, about life and history in this part of the world. They went home with moonlight silver on the grasslands below, taking special care not to drive off the sloping roadway down the cliff face. Once down, they let the mares find their way home to their stallion at camp.

  Back in Luoyang, the tingwei reviewed the report from Lanzhaou. The military cavalry squadron had returned without Wang Ming, reporting that he had stayed behind to recover his concubine and bring her home with him.

  However, two months had passed and Wang Ming Ming had not yet returned. The tingwei had directed the provincial government at Lanzhou to launch inquiries, beginning in Liqian. None of the townspeople recalled him by name, though a handful recalled a well-dressed man inquiring about the Liu Shiu family, the family name of Si Huar and Si Nuo. Inquiries at the Liu Shiu residence revealed that Si Huar’s brother had remained behind to care for his aging mother. Both said that Wang Ming had come to the house to ask Si Huar to return with him. She had refused, and he had left after some words. They did not know where he went, though they believed he was going east. Si Huar and the Da Qin named An-dun subsequently had an elaborate wedding at the Xiongnu encampment that brought almost all the town out for the festivities. None of the residents had seen Wang Ming in the camp, and there were no altercations before, during and after the wedding.

  The tingwei determined that Wang Ming was most likely the victim of robbers, accident or illness somewhere on the long road back to Luoyang. He concluded that the missing man’s fate might never be known, and that further inquiries were not warranted.

  The next day the tingwei presented his report to the Son of Heaven, after a briefing to him and the full
council on Xiongnu relocation and pacification. As was his want, the Emperor sat in silence for a long time after the conclusion of the tingwei’s report, to quiet his mind and to focus his thoughts for the proper solemn response. Then he replied. “Tingwei Feng Chu’o, you have done well. I am pleased to learn that Si Huar has been wed to An-Dun. She has gained a courageous and honorable husband, and I hope he brings her the loving kindness she deserves.”

  He made another long pause. “Harmony in the world begins with the family, and spreads out to create harmony about them. There is no greater responsibility that a man has, than to maintain harmony within his own family, with discipline if necessary. However, there is no greater disharmony than for a man to misuse that responsibility to inflict cruelty for the pleasure of cruelty. Wang Ming did this, as we all knew, and we did not correct his behavior, which led to more disharmony. Because of this disharmony, a very important initiative, ably executed by Ban Chao on my behalf, was brought to naught. So I charge you to ensure that no one in this household ever again cruelly disciplines a member of their family, wife, child, or slave. I charge you to correct those who break this rule.”

  Another long pause. He thought of the bold Da Qin in their strange garb, seizing the honor to defend one of their own, at whatever cost they might incur for doing so. He remembered the portly ambassador’s gray eyes, fixed on his own, simply because it was so rare for him to see anyone’s direct gaze. Among his advisors, only the tingwei, Ban Chao and a few others, had ever had the courage to do this, and only in private council. And he was about to lose Ban Chao: the man’s failing health had precluded his attendance today. However badly the Da Qin had violated protocol, they had shown the highest courage and honor.

  CHAPTER 71: THE ROAD TO KASHGAR

  Three riders heralded the arrival of the caravan from Kashgar, riding in hard to dismount at the caravansary, handing over their sweating, snorting horses to the livery boys. The riders sought out Alisher to let him know that the caravan from Kashgar was two days west, giving him a list of the quantity and destination of the various cargoes and passengers. After reading the list, Alisher asked a few questions, then gave them a bundle of silk ribbons of various colors. They remounted to rejoin the caravan after a quick meal at the small eatery.

  The caravansary came alive over the next several hours. Merchants came down to stake out the remaining locations, setting up their stalls under multicolored awnings in advance of their merchandise. Carts began rumbling in with wine, food and supplies for the tavern and bakery. People cleaned out the newly-opened accommodations upstairs. Alisher’s people began inventorying goods in the storage areas for the caravan’s return trip, cross-checking to make sure nothing had been misplaced.

  The night before the caravan’s arrival, everything was waiting for them. The bath house normally ran only one bath, but could bring up five for a caravan. All were hot and steaming, the air thick with the pungent smell of smoke from the shiny black rocks called mei used for fuel. Everyone took advantage of the baths, and the proprietor offered an hour reserved for women.

  After baths and a small meal, the Roman party returned to their camp to bundle up their gear to prepare for traveling, and all moved into Antonius’ and Marcia’s yurt, planning to sell the smaller communal one.

  They each inventoried the beeswax-sealed cash, with Ibrahim’s and Aulus’s showing knife marks where some coins had been dug out to reward Mama Biyu and Bohai generously several months back for their help, and more for the Xiongnu and Alisher. Everyone else’s beeswax stash was intact. They decided to dig out two to five silver coins each, and trade them off with Alisher in the morning for copper and brass ones. Silver attracted too much attention.

  The caravan arrived mid-morning the next day, turning north off the main road, lined with merchants and townspeople gawking at their arrival. Such arrivals were festive affairs, bringing news of faraway places, men returning home after months on the road, and an opportunity to buy and sell.

  Children held their parent’s hand or sat on their father’s shoulders, to wave at the fascinating entourage of camels, horses, donkeys, carts and wagons, escorted by fierce-looking armed horsemen… who broke into smiles at the opportunity to wave their swords in mock threats at the children. Camels, with seemingly impossible loads, slumped along uncomplaining, their tails swishing at flies, and occasionally leaving a little fertilizer behind for the farmers’ fields. Carts creaked and lurched, horses carried heavy loads or riders.

  One by one, each load entered the south gate, Alisher’s people directing the organized chaos inside. Young boys working for a few copper coins led the animals to the color-coded storage areas matching their ribbons where waiting men unoaded them, and the boys led them to the paddocks back outside. By noon, all the animals were contentedly grazing in the paddock, and the bath house was full of grimy drivers and loaders refreshing themselves after many days on the road. More men nursed drinks and meals in the adjacent eatery and bar, waiting their turn for a much needed hot soak.

  Antonius and Marcia quickly sold off the extra yurt and some of their Xiongnu summer clothing that morning. The brass coins they earned from that sale were promptly handed over to a merchant selling camel tack: two saddles, high in front and back to fit between the animal’s two humps, with two big saddle bags and a rump pack that looked like they could carry several hundred pounds, if the camel didn’t mind both a rider and a load.

  For lunch they dined in the little eatery: goat with nan bread and bowls of Turfam’s famous yellow raisins, dried in the heat of the sun, washed down with the town’s equally fine wine. They bought supplies, bottles of wine, and big wheels of nan, each about two feet in diameter and an inch thick, golden brown with a white fluffy inside. Nan was standard caravan fare, requiring no preparation, and it would keep for months. Supplemented with camel milk, it was extremely nourishing. Alisher had advised them there would be three layovers on the trip to Kashgar, about six weeks depending on weather and time spent in the cities along the way.

  The Roman party met with Alisher’s son, the caravan master Jamshid. He was stocky, a bit shorter than Antonius, swarthy and dark-haired with a bushy beard, in his forties. His complexion was fair but leathery from exposure to the harsh weather for most of his life. First, Aulus asked about languages enroute, to add to what they had learned from his father.

  “Yeah,” he said, with a decided western drawl to his han-yu, “By Kashgar nobody speak han-yu except few merchants, travelers like you. They speak yue-zhi, more yue-zhi further west you go.” He exchanged a few words with Demosthenes in Bactrian, and they shared smiles at some mutual comprehension. “You friend here speak western yue-zhi, I understand pretty well what he say. Get better, go further west.”

  “Well, that sounds promising. Dim, do you think you can teach us Bactrian so we are not lost if you are not with us? The way we learned han-yu?” asked Aulus.

  “I would be happy to try,” he answered.

  Then Antonius addressed Jamshid. “We want to participate in security, if you can tell us what you want us to do.”

  “Sure,” answered Jamshid. “Ride patrol, swords, bows. You fight horseback?”

  “All of us.”

  “Tomorrow after breakfast. Bring horses and weapons. Must go now, thank you for helping.” He shook hands with Antonius in a wrist clasp, then again with Aulus and Ibrahim. He turned and headed off to tend to caravan matters.

  When everyone got back to their encampment, loaded with bags of purchases on a borrowed handcart, the Roman camel novices tried their hand at riding the two camels, to the merriment of Ibrahim, Yakov, Demosthenes and the local observers who gathered around to give unasked-for advice. Their efforts to entice Claudius and Claudia to kneel so they could mount greatly annoyed the two camels, who began to make grunting noises, their mouths furiously chewing something nasty they had brought up from their stomachs just to spit it at the unsuspecting Romans. Eventually everyone got on, went several times in a circle, stopping,
starting, turning, and dismounting, without falling off. Afterwards, the camels were happy to go back to doing whatever camels do when humans are not annoying them.

  Antonius and Marcia retired early, claiming to have something to discuss. The rest of the group stayed outside to drink and talk, and to give them privacy since they would soon no longer have any, once again sharing a common yurt until warmer weather. However, at one point, Marcia stormed out the tent, looking very angry, and headed off briskly for a long walk.

  “Looks like whatever they were discussing did not go well with her!” remarked Gaius.

  “About time they had a disagreement. They’ve been married for three months now!” laughed Aulus. Gaius topped off Aulus’s cup, while he drank the rest out of the bottle. They talked about various things, their wives and Aulus’s future family, until Marcia returned, still looking sullen. They gave her a few minutes to retire, and then went in themselves.

  The next morning, Marcia awoke, reaching for Antonius, only to remember that she had, for the first time since they had become lovers, voluntarily slept apart from him on a separate blanket. She thought regretfully about their argument. He was only being protective. I should not have said what I said. Everyone was stirring. She reached for her felt breeches, pulled them on under the blanket over her chilled thighs, straightened up and wriggled her shirt on over her head. Now, somewhat dressed, she cast the blanket off and put on her leather riding boots. Antonius was up by now, rearranging his clothes. He had apparently slept in them.