by Barry Sadler
The escort was friendly and curious. Never had he seen anyone like this big man on the wiry mountain pony. The city of Tzin was well laid out with wide streets formed into walled blocks. There were over three hundred and fifty of these, each walled enclosure a smaller city unto itself with gates that closed at sundown. There being no traffic between the smaller cities, there was less chance for riot or revolt.
Inside, the wards were only narrow paths that had to be traveled on foot. Even the most noble visitor would have to dismount and enter on foot. The buck-toothed smiling guide informed Casca that Ch'ang-an was like all the other cities of the Emperor, laid out with the royal palace facing south so that all who approached would come from the north. To face south was a sign of superiority, none could have more than the son of Heaven. Of course, there were rare occasions when the Emperor would, as a sign of respect or favor, greet a great man or loyal subject on an east or west line, but this was rare indeed and only happened twice that the guide could remember.
Entering a ward with walls forty feet high and sentries on guard, they passed through a rounded gate with bars that could lower instantly, leaving holes from which archers could fire. The tiled roofs and gardens within were laid out in a manner strange to his eyes. Placement of such common objects as a few odd shaped rocks set on raked gravel gave an oddly comforting effect, even peaceful. Fragile as the small gardens appeared, they looked as if they would endure forever, captured in a moment of time, preserved for the ages.
His smiling host showed him to three rooms in which were graceful ink drawings and strange airy paintings, of almost ethereal quality. His guide bowed on leaving, saying others would come soon to see to his needs.
There were no chairs in the room. Casca sat on a large cushion to take his boots off, wincing at the odor. He had been told his horse was in the imperial stables and his gear would be brought to him later. The absence of his sword bothered him, but he had been left with the small belt dagger of Sung Ti as a sign of trust. Leaning back, his eyes blinked once and then closed.
He was awakened by the rustling of silk robes. As his eyes snapped open, a gentle face appeared in focus, eyes like those of a mountain doe, hair piled high on her head, held by combs of jade and ivory set with long pins, jeweled with sapphires on the tips.
The girl smiled shyly as she too looked at the barbarian from beyond the edge of the world. Hesitantly, she motioned for him to follow her.
Leading him with graceful tiny steps, she took him through a series of paneled and paper-walled rooms to a tiled bath of lapis lazuli, indicating for him to enter the water. As she helped him remove his clothing she looked at him curiously, then motioned for him to enter the steaming water.
Sighing deeply, Casca lowered himself into the water to his chest. After the long months on the trail the hot water was ecstasy. The girl rolled up her long sleeves and began to wash his back with perfumed oils and soap, she was soon joined by three others, each as beautiful and curious. Among them they left, to Casca's delight, no part of his body unscrubbed.
Rising from the bath, he was given clean fresh robes with emblems in ideograms he could not understand, but which obviously provided him an identity for whatever status he had in this palace of delights.
The girls chattered merrily among themselves, comparing his anatomy and exclaiming over the wealth of scar tissue that crisscrossed his body. The deep scar on his chest seemed to fascinate them almost as much as the hair on his chest, which they had competed for the right to wash and giggled at the feel while wondering among themselves what it would feel like next to their own skin, for the men of their race had no such thing. Even if the big nose was ugly, he was somehow not unappealing.
The girl who had first come for him almost fell over when Casca asked her in her own language if she would like to find out how the hair on his chest would feel next to her own smooth bosom. Giggling, she hid her face behind one long silk sleeve and beckoned for him to follow her again, this time returning him to his rooms where he found all his gear was gone and even more clothes awaiting his approval.
For the first time, the girl spoke directly to him, her voice like one of the melodic wind chimes he had seen hanging from the tree branches in the courtyard: "Food will be brought soon, barbarian. Your clothes are being burned. They are not fit for this place. You are being shown the honors and courtesies required by law to be given to an imperial messenger from another king – no more and no less. I am Mei Cho, a slave, and perhaps I will be permitted to serve you while you are in residence in this garden."
Giggling she stammered, "You really are so very ugly. . ." Laughing still, she fled outside and disappeared down a tiled walkway.
Three days Casca waited, growing ever more restless but still not permitted to leave the confines of the garden. At night he watched the rocks and sand; they seemed to want to tell him something, if only he could see. Twice men of the court had come and questioned him politely as to what he had encountered on the trail of the Silk Road, making notes on what looked like papyrus, writing with long graceful strokes.
On the third night, white sitting on the bench placed so that one could view the garden, he sat watching the light from the moon cast shadows over the garden, lighting one place and casting another into darkness. A shadow crossed him, standing, he turned around to see a young man wearing only a simple robe of gray linen watching him.
The young man bowed and moved closer, "Forgive me, honored sir, if I have disturbed your moment."
Casca bowed likewise. The moon lit up the youngster's face, smooth in the light. His eyes were gentle yet wiser than his years.
Casca indicated the carved stone bench. "Will you join me, young master? The night is quiet and there is room for more than one. I would be honored for you to share your company with me." Damn, he thought to himself, I am beginning to talk like them, it must be contagious.
The youngster moved with smooth strong steps to the bench, sat down and folded his hands, one on the other. Both were silent for a moment and then the boy pointed to the garden with long graceful fingers. "For what do you look in the garden, Lord Casca?" "I don't know, young sir, but it draws me. I believe the stones and gravel have a special meaning.''
The boy nodded. "Indeed, that is why it is what it is. One of the greatest poets of our land built this small piece of perfection over two hundred years ago. It is his message and feelings that draw you."
"Yes," agreed Casca. "I never thought of it before, but it is like a poem, if only I could understand the words."
The boy smiled showing even white teeth. "Perhaps you will before this night is out. Watch the garden and I will try to help you." Casca let his eyes drift over the shadows and sands settling on one lone rock sitting by itself apart from the others and somehow seeming like him, part of the whole, but always alone. The boy's voice merged with the garden. "Yes, it is alone, that one common rock is humanity, placed by itself, as it has been for two hundred years. it was put there for all who are lonely to see and know they are not the only ones who must be lonely and even the most humble of objects has feeling too." Pointing to where the two larger stones were connected by a piece of weathered rope, tying the larger stone to the smaller, he continued, "That is man and woman when Chu Ssma placed them there. He took pity on them in their isolation and made them one by giving the thread of life to connect them, to give them comfort though there is a distance between them. Now they are happy and have each other. They shall be so as long as this place exists."
Though the concepts were alien to the Roman, they seemed here not out of place. Watching the two rocks with their tattered rope, it made sense to him and was oddly pleasing and comforting.
The two sat silently until the first light of day cast a glow over the wall. Rising, the young man bowed low to the barbarian, "We will meet again, Lord Casca," and he turned to leave.
"Please, young sir, you know my name, may I ask yours? I wish to thank you properly for what you have shown me tonight."
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br /> The young man smiled again and bowed gently, "I am Tzin.” Before Casca could find his voice, he was gone.
"The Emperor... I have spent a whole night with the Emperor watching a couple of rocks!"
Confused, he returned to his rooms and lay on his pallet, letting sleep take him. "The Emperor. . ."
That day he dreamed again, faces haunting him...Glam...the barbarian...Neda, his first love...ships and battles and then a distant aching in his wrist and the Elder Dacort's face leering from a cross saying..."You are the road that leads to Jesus and we shall be there with you."
The following day, Casca was instructed in the manner in which to present himself to the Emperor. He would enter the imperial chambers on his knees and bow three times, crawl forward three paces and bow three more times, keeping his eyes averted from the son of Heaven until he was permitted to sit up, but not to stand as no one must hover over the royal person.
The reception hall of the Peacock Throne was quite simple in comparison to the courts of Rome and other kingdoms he had seen. Ostentation was not to be found here. Wealth, yes, in the few objects present, but the lack of any vulgar display seemed somehow to give those items present an even greater value. Vases of alabaster so thin that light glowed from them as if there were candles inside, one statuette of a flying dove carved of luminescent rose jade placed on a piece of twisted teak, spoke more of wealth and power than all the jewels on the fingers of Gaius Nero.
Performing the prescribed ritual, Casca bowed his way into the presence of the royal person. His face remained to the mat floor until the words of the major-domo permitted him to, rise and look upon the face of the Father of the World, conqueror of the Hsuing-nu, overlord of the Mongol tribes and the son of Heaven, in whom all wisdom resides.
Tzin sat in the only chair present, on a raised dais so that even sitting, he would be taller than any man present. In his hands, he held a wand of gold and ivory, beautifully engraved with twisting four-toed dragons winding about it. Four toes on a dragon were permitted only for those of the royal household and only they were permitted to carry them or their likenesses about.
A small brazier glowed nearby the Emperor's right hand, a thin spiral of incense rising and giving the delicate fragrance of roses. The Emperor had more wealth on him than the treasuries of Rome could purchase in three years of taxes from all provinces, but it was considered vulgar to complement each other in this place. On his head was a soft two-cornered cap with red and gold tassels, his robes and hat were both of the imperial green shade that only nobility could wear.
The Emperor spoke, holding the packet of letters which Casca had brought from Kushan. "Lord Casca, we thank you for bringing us this welcome message from his highness, the king of Kushan. We are pleased to note that our countryman, Tsin-ta'i, still has our interests at heart and is loyal to the throne. Kushan has prospered and an alliance to drive the Hsuing-nu back into the wastes from which they came, shall please us."
Holding up another letter, the Emperor continued, "Here is a letter from our servant, Tsin-ta'i, in which he tells the remarkable story set down by an ancient sage who died long ago, Shiu Lao Tze. It is indeed remarkable. None other than myself has seen this letter." Tzin dropped the paper onto the incense brazier where the flames hungrily consumed the paper, leaving only a small pile of ashes.
"Lord Casca, is it your wish to remain with us and serve the House of Tzin for such time as you wish to depart, as I know you must one day?"
Casca looked the young king in the eyes and felt again the drawing power of this young man. "It is, Lord."
Pleased, Tzin nodded and motioned for a scribe to crawl nearer. "Take these words. It is my pleasure that the one known as Casca shall henceforth be honored as the Baron of Chung Wei, which guards the Jade Gate from which he came to us. There all shall obey and honor him." Pointing his ivory rod, the Emperor said, "Lord Casca, you shall await my pleasure and prepare the men I shall send to do battle against the Hsuing-nu. From our mutual friend in Kushan, I know much of you and that you will be of assistance in ridding the earth of the lice who call themselves men." Tzin clapped his hands and had a lacquered box brought to him. Opening the container, he withdrew the new lord's seal, presenting it to Casca with his own hands. The Chu Hou Wang of a noble, made of yellow gold with a knob of polished tortoise shell. With this Casca would make his mark, sign his orders and all documents sent to the Lord of Heaven. The Lord Tzin himself signed and stamped documents of ennoblement with his own hand and the seal of the kingdom made of rare jade engraved with li, a one-horned dragon knob with four toes bearing the inscription that had come down to the Kings of Han from the past: Shou fien chih ming huang ti (By the command of heaven, long-lived and glorious the emperor).
Honor was shown to the new lord, responsibility was given and none could dispute it. The word of the Emperor was law and the law would be obeyed, for such is the order of things in civilized countries.
"You have my permission to go to your province now," said the Emperor and, with the wave of his scepter, informed Casca that the audience was over. Repeating the same procedure used on entering, Casca backed out, averting his eyes from the Presence and not rising until the chamber doors closed behind him.
"Baron! He's made me a Baron of Tsin. Well, why not, I was a god once."
Chapter Sixteen - BARON OF CHUNG WEI
Casca left the Capital a noble with a retinue of men-at-arms and knights, along with servants and carts to carry his possessions – enough to outfit a Persian palace. He departed riding a bay stallion with white stocking, a brave flash on his forehead. He cut a dashing figure on the beautiful and high spirited animal and the brass rings which held his feet made the ride much easier. Casca stared at the brass rings thinking, "Why didn't we ever think of them? These people have had them for centuries and can make the most ungainly foot soldier into a horseman. Shit, it took me years to learn how to ride without them and not fall off every time that damned horse shied at a bush or snake."
Behind, faithful, tough old Glam was being led on a tether by a slave. Casca looked at him fondly. "If there is fighting in the deserts and hills, I would rather have him than ten of these thin-blooded race horses."
Behind shaggy Glam came Mel Cho giggling to herself as she recalled how the hair on the ugly one's chest had felt the first time. But he was naive. She was his first girl and as such had seniority over any others he might take. She lounged in her palanquin stretched between horses and thought how she would make life miserable for the other girls if they didn't jump at her commands. Her only regret about her appearance was that her feet were large. She had been born to slaves and was unlucky enough not to have had them bound as a baby, for the tiny feet that came with binding made them slow when it came to following orders, but the big nosed one didn't even seem to notice. "He is really kind not to hurt my feelings by commenting on how ugly my feet are."
The way back was pleasant and the weather cool. Winter was not far off and the leaves were just turning gold and red, setting the hills on fire with color. Twice he had the pleasure of running into some of the same bravados he had met going to the capital and thoroughly enjoyed making them perform Kowtow as he now outranked them by some distance. Through winding valleys and rivers they rode, taking their time and enjoying the countryside, watching the villagers on their daily business. "How could they allow their feet to be mutilated" he mused, thankful Mei didn't have such a deformity? The girls who worked at the factories had to be brought in on wheelbarrows, in baskets on the side to do their work and returned to their homes in the same manner.
Boundary stones marked the limits of each province and, after a month, a rider came to him to tell him the borders of Chung Wei were just over the next rise. Spurring his horse in the flanks, he raced ahead with his bodyguard and stopped at the stone marker. Over a thousand villagers were prostrated on their faces waiting for him to cross. They had come to see their new lord and make him welcome. Dismounting, he stepped across the boundary.
Calling out and talking to the backs presented, he called to the backs presented, “I am your lord. Serve me well and I will serve you likewise. If you have complaints, I will find you justice. If you are dishonest, I will punish you. Be loyal to your Emperor and to me. Follow his commands and we will get along. Now, rise and face me as men should."
The villagers rose to their feet at his command, watching as Casca mounted his horse and rode among them, following the trail to the castle. Village leaders and elders came forward and made gifts of pigs and grain while gongs were beaten to frighten off evil spirits that might try to bring bad fortune to this day and their new master. He was strange looking enough to them without having a curse put on him by a jealous ghost. They had not had a real master for some time now and only the tax collectors came at the end of each harvest to collect the Emperor's tithe. They were a glad people now. Without a master they felt incomplete. There was no one to give them justice or tell them what to do.
The deserted castle of Chung Wei held enough room for a thousand warriors and a hundred horses. Dust covered everything but nothing had been removed. All had been left as it was when the previous master had been sent to join his ancestors for trying to incite rebellion and make alliance with the Hsuing-nu.
Mei Cho gave everyone hell, shouting orders and threatening the most vile of punishments until in a remarkably short time, the castle was restored to a decent condition, making maximum use of the new furniture and paintings she had so carefully packed before leaving the capital. This was her home now and would look like one...