Qiuylue grew agitated. ‘If you send me away, the servants will think I disgust you and I’ll lose face.’
Vallon was losing interest in taking a bath. ‘All right. Sit over there.’
He unrobed and slipped into the tub. Qiuylue composed herself on a chair in the corner and plucked at a lute. She began to sing some wistful air. The song and the warm scented water lulled him. He lay back, holding the sides of the tub, eyes closed.
When he opened them Qiuylue was looking down at him.
‘You’re very thin. Your body scarcely casts a shadow.’
Taking this as an aspersion on his physique, Vallon became defensive. ‘What do you expect? I’ve been travelling without rest for a year.’
‘Under my care you’ll grow fat.’
‘Yes… well… we’ll see.’
‘Your crimson bird is very large,’ she said in a matter-of-fact tone.
‘My what?’
She pointed. ‘So much of you.’
Vallon covered his groin. ‘I hope it doesn’t offend you.’
‘You should be proud of it. It will father many sons.’
‘Both my children are girls,’ Vallon said. ‘By God’s mercy, there will be another child when I return home.’ Then he remembered Lucas. ‘No, I have a son too. He’s serving in my company.’
‘Ah.’
They ate supper together in silence.
Vallon cast aside his chopsticks. ‘I can’t use these things. They seem designed to come between a man and his food.’
Qiuylue rose. ‘Let me help you.’
‘Sit down!’
Qiuylue sat as if he’d struck her.
Vallon took a deep breath. ‘I apologise for raising my voice. Let me try to make something clear. I’m not a child who needs to be dressed, washed and spoonfed. Please respect my mature years, as I respect… well, as I respect you.’ He hauled the conversation onto another tack. ‘I travelled through Khitan territory on my journey down the Yellow River. I’d like to hear more about your people.’
From Qiuylue he learned that the Khitans had carved out an empire called Liao north of the Yellow River. They had adopted the Chinese system of government and gone along with the pretence that they were tributaries of the Middle Kingdom while accepting lavish bribes in return for not marauding in the Chinese frontier territories.
Supper over, the problem of bed had to be dealt with. Vallon asserted himself. ‘I’m still tired from my journey and wish to sleep on my own. Please don’t take offence. There’s another bed next door.’
Qiuylue placed her hands together and backed out.
Five nights later Vallon retired to his night chamber to find moonlight filtering through the window and a girl in his bed with the cover up to her chin. She gave a coquettish smile. Vallon managed to contain his annoyance.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’
The girl exposed her breasts. ‘Lady Qiuylue sent me. She says it’s not fitting that a man should lie on his own.’
Vallon kept his tone gentle. ‘Get dressed and go to the lady. Thank her for her consideration and ask her to call on me.’
He was staring out of the window at the hoary light on the tiles of the other buildings when Qiuylue entered.
‘Are you angry with me?’
‘No,’ he said. He indicated the moonlight. ‘How peaceful it is.’
She joined him. He could smell her scent. She spoke as if to herself.
Seeing a gleam at the foot of my bed,
I took it for frost on the ground.
Lifting myself to look, I found that it was moonlight.
Sinking back again, I found myself thinking of home.
‘You’re a poet,’ Vallon said.
‘Oh, no. I didn’t compose that verse.’
Vallon left the shutters open. ‘If I’m going to have to share my bed, I’d rather share it with you.’
They contrived to undress and slip between the covers without observing each other’s nakedness. Lying next to Qiuylue, not touching her, Vallon felt as if he’d been put through a wringer. Gradually his muscles relaxed.
‘Do the Chinese kiss?’
‘Kiss?’
‘You know – when a man and woman put their lips together as a prelude to making love. I ask because I saw more than one Tibetan man and woman rubbing noses. I can’t see much pleasure in that.’
‘Of course we kiss. Do you want me to kiss you?’
‘For once, let me take the initiative.’
He slid his hand under her shoulder and eased her round.
‘Let down your hair.’
She unpinned her coiffure and shook out her hair. The caress of her tresses on his chest made him close his eyes. He drew her face towards his. Their lips met, adjusted, pressed harder and melted into each other.
XXXVII
Each morning officials from the Court of Diplomatic Reception visited the Palace of Peace to question Vallon and Hero about Byzantium. How many people lived in Constantinople? How was Byzantine society ordered? Did it have a dress code? What did people eat? Who were the empire’s allies, who its enemies?
If it wasn’t the Court of Diplomatic Reception, it was the Department of Arms, responsible for making maps and demanding to be told every detail of the topography and conditions the expedition had encountered.
Within days of arriving at Kaifeng, ice had frozen Jifeng to her mooring. Now the ice began to break up, floating away in dirty yellow blocks. Buds appeared on the trees and the frozen streets turned to mud. When the chamberlain next visited, Vallon vented his impatience.
‘We’ve been in Kaifeng two months. When are we going to meet the emperor?’
‘Soon, I trust. The arrangements are proceeding smoothly.’
Vallon would have been driven mad by the procrastination if Qiuylue hadn’t been there to soothe him. No matter how frustrating his day had been, his spirits lifted when he closed the door on the officials and found himself alone in her company.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ she asked one evening.
‘I was thinking how fond I am of you.’
‘I’m glad I make you happy.’
‘More than fond.’
She shivered. ‘Please don’t say such things.’
On the first warm day of the year he was escorting Qiuylue around the garden, admiring the peach blossoms, when he saw coming the other way Lucas accompanied by a pretty Chinese girl who barely came up to his chest. Both parties stopped. By tacit agreement, Vallon and Lucas had contrived to avoid each other since arriving at the capital.
Vallon took the first step. ‘Good morning.’
‘Good morning, sir. Forgive me for trespassing. The gate was open and I —’
‘That’s all right. I trust you find your lodgings satisfactory.’
Lucas didn’t quite succeed in suppressing a glance at the girl. ‘I couldn’t ask for better accommodation.’
They stood in awkward opposition, the two women covertly eyeing each other.
Vallon coughed. ‘Allow me to introduce Lady Qiuylue. She’s helping me learn the Chinese language and customs. My lady, this is my son, Lucas.’
Qiuylue made a graceful acknowledgement and Lucas gave a gentlemanly bow.
‘May I present Xiao-Xing – “Morning Star”. I, too, am trying to get on better terms with the Chinese.’
Vallon was sure that Xiao-Xing was the girl he’d found in his bed by moonlight. ‘Excellent, yes, well…’ He rubbed his hands. ‘Spring is definitely in the air.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘The chamberlain called yesterday with the news we’ve been waiting for. In three days the emperor Shenzong will receive us at the palace. You will attend me.’
‘Honoured, sir.’
‘As my son.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Hero and Aiken will also be in the party. Since a mere general won’t command the emperor’s respect, I’ve conferred a dukedom on myself and bestowed appropriate titles
on the other officers. I’m promoting you to count. Make sure your appearance reflects your rank. Have your servant polish your armour to mirror brightness. I need hardly tell you how important it is to make a dazzling impression.’
‘No, sir.’
‘There’s no need to be so formal in your address. If you can’t bring yourself to call me “father”, I’m quite happy for you to call me by name.’
Lucas’s face betrayed turmoil. ‘I can’t.’ He turned about and led the girl away.
‘We’re going to have to face up to the past sometime,’ Vallon called.
Lucas hurried the girl through the gate.
‘What’s wrong?’ Qiuylue said. ‘Why do you grow pale?’
Vallon emptied his lungs. ‘I murdered his mother in front of him.’
Qiuylue hissed in shock. Vallon groped for her arm and led her to the belvedere. Looking out over the garden, he told her.
When he’d finished, she was quiet for a while. ‘I see no reason why you should torment yourself.’
Vallon shook his head. ‘Until Lucas appeared, I’d more or less buried the past. Seeing him is like watching a grave heave open. What torments me is the foul thought that I’d feel more at peace today if I’d killed Lucas too.’
Qiuylue kissed his cheek. ‘He wouldn’t be here unless he wanted to make peace with you.’
‘You think so?’
‘Yes. He takes after you.’
Vallon shook his head. ‘No, and that’s what rubs the wound raw. He has his mother’s eyes. Every time I meet him, it’s her I see.’
The chamberlain and his officials spent the next two days coaching the envoys on imperial protocol.
‘On the day of presentation I will usher you into the palace and lead you to the west chamber outside the throne room. When the emperor has taken his seat, I will lead you into His Majesty’s presence. You will stand in dignified silence while the vice-director of the Secretariat and his officials approach to receive your letters of credentials and state. They will place them on trays and read them to the throne. If the emperor makes no objection, I will receive your tribute and lay it on a table for the emperor to examine if he so chooses.’
‘Wait a moment,’ Vallon said. ‘Did I hear the word “tribute”?’
‘Tribute, gifts – the distinction is not important.’
‘Yes, it is. Tributes are offered by subject states. Gifts are exchanged between equals. The treasures we brought are gifts from His Imperial Majesty Alexius I Comnenus.’
‘I will give the emperor all the relevant facts.’
‘Make sure you tell him it was a Byzantine expedition that first found its way to China, and not the other way around.’
‘China has no need to go looking for Byzantium.’
Hero tugged Vallon’s sleeve. ‘You have many skills. Diplomacy isn’t one of them.’
‘Now, then,’ the chamberlain continued. ‘After the emperor has received your letters and gifts, you will be invited to approach. When you reach the appointed spot, you will kow tow.’
One of his juniors demonstrated, kneeling three times from a standing position, touching his forehead to the ground three times at each prostration.
‘I’m not going down on hands and knees like a dog,’ Vallon said to Hero. He set his face at the chamberlain. ‘I will honour your emperor as I would my own – by kneeling with head bowed in respect.’
Gasps of dismay. The chamberlain and his entourage withdrew for discussion and returned quite adamant. ‘No ambassador from a foreign country can approach the emperor without kow towing.’
‘If my ruler was here in person, would you expect him to abase himself in that servile way?’
‘You are not the Byzantine emperor.’
‘I represent my sovereign. Your emperor should accord me as much respect as if it were Alexius himself who stood before him.’
‘Does Alexius treat you as an equal?’
Vallon couldn’t avoid the trap. ‘No, of course not.’
‘Then why should our emperor not treat you in a similar manner? You are not the embodiment of your sovereign. You are merely his honoured messenger.’
Vallon had begun to sweat. ‘If I lower my dignity, I lower the Byzantine emperor’s.’
‘You cannot regulate the etiquette of the palace of Kaifeng by that of Constantinople. Our princes of the blood kow tow before their emperor. My children show me the same respect. Therefore you should do likewise. If you don’t, you are raising yourself above us.’
‘Suppose the positions were reversed and you’d sent Chinese envoys to Byzantium.’
‘Not only would they kow tow to your emperor, they would also burn incense before him as they would do before their gods.’
‘Has any foreign envoy refused to kow tow?’
‘Several have resisted. Without exception, right thinking has convinced them of their error.’ The chamberlain held out a hand and an official placed a scroll in it. The chamberlain unrolled it. ‘In the second reign year of the Emperor Xuan Zong – that is to say, three hundred and seventy years ago – an Arab envoy from the Caliph insisted that he abased himself only before his god. After gentle persuasion he prostrated himself in the prescribed manner.’ The chamberlain took another scroll. ‘Here we have another precedent more closely touching your own situation.’
‘How so?’
‘You say that the Byzantines are the legitimate heirs of the Romans. You call yourselves citizens of Rome.’
‘By direct descent.’
‘Then you will be interested to know that one thousand years ago, ambassadors sent by a Roman sovereign called Anton performed the necessary obeisance before the Chinese emperor.’
Vallon looked at Hero. ‘A thousand years ago? That can’t be true.’
‘My knowledge of Roman imperial succession is patchy, but I recall that an Emperor Antoninus ruled about that time. If we can reach China, there’s no reason why the Romans shouldn’t have done the same.’
Vallon resumed his debate with the chamberlain on less certain ground. ‘I lost many brave men on this journey. I won’t debase their sacrifice by fawning.’
‘Please. In paying respect to the customs of the Middle Kingdom, you make those of your own more sacred. Every homage you render to our sovereign is becoming and will be returned.’
Forced into a corner, Vallon made his last effort. ‘Suppose I refuse?’
‘Unless you agree to observe the protocol, I will cancel the audience and you will leave China forthwith.’
Vallon sought advice from his colleagues. ‘What do I do?’
‘Agree,’ Hero said.
‘I suppose that if they asked me to kiss Shenzong’s arse, you’d say do it.’
Aiken rolled his eyes. He’d become more forthright since stepping out of Vallon’s shadow. ‘They’re not asking you to kiss the emperor’s arse.’
‘As good as,’ Josselin said. ‘Call their bluff.’
‘It isn’t bluff,’ Shennu said. ‘Nobody can approach the emperor without kow towing. His Majesty would lose face and that would be unthinkable.’
Vallon found himself looking at Lucas. ‘What do you say?’
‘I think you have little choice. Being expelled from China with nothing to show for it would be an even more bitter pill to swallow.’
‘Alexius won’t be pleased to hear that his ambassador grovelled in front of the Chinese emperor.’
‘You don’t have to tell him. Just say that you observed the necessary protocol.’
‘I have a suggestion,’ Aiken said. ‘Perform the kow tow. At the same time, pray to Almighty God and conclude by making the figure of the cross.’
Shennu looked sick with anxiety. ‘The chamberlain won’t agree.’
Vallon glanced at the officials on the other side of the room. ‘I won’t tell him.’
Vallon managed to bid the officials a polite goodbye before retiring to his sleeping chamber, barking at the servants to leave him undisturbed. Head thumping,
he lay on his bed.
Dusk filled the room when Qiuylue slipped in. ‘I know you gave orders that no one was to enter, but I’m anxious about you.’
‘For heaven’s sake,’ Vallon snapped. ‘The order doesn’t apply to you.’ He saw Qiuylue flinch. ‘Forgive my harsh tone. This ceremonial flim-flam drives me mad.’
Qiuylue held his hand. Since learning that the emperor would receive her lover, she’d treated Vallon as semi-divine.
‘I can’t believe that tomorrow you will meet the emperor. What an honour. You must tell me every detail of the audience.’
‘If I had my way, you’d be at my side.’
Qiuylue gasped and covered her mouth.
Vallon found himself comparing her to Caitlin. They were so different from each other, yet he loved both, and with that realisation came a pang of sorrow. He knew with painful certainty that he’d already lost Caitlin, and he knew that he and Qiuylue would never have a chance to find lasting happiness.
The emperor was an early riser who began working on affairs of state long before daybreak. It wasn’t much past dawn when the chamberlain swept up with a troop of cavalry and a fleet of palanquins to convey the envoys to the palace. Waiting outside the pavilion, Vallon glanced at Lucas and experienced another wrench. The youth was as tall as him and already broader, but it wasn’t just his stature that impressed. In the last few months Lucas had shed his peasant clumsiness. Now, clad in glittering armour, he looked like a young god. Vallon’s swell of paternal pride subsided into bitterness. Lucas would never treat him as his father except in the most formal terms. How else could it be?
Vallon climbed into the leading litter with Lucas. Eight uniformed bearers hoisted it onto their shoulders and jogged out of the compound. Vallon peered out at the workaday streets.
‘It seems we’re not worthy of a triumphal procession.’
‘The emperor doesn’t want us to stage a grand entrance before he knows how the audience will turn out.’
Vallon shifted his sword. ‘You’re growing a head on those broad shoulders.’
For the rest of the journey the space around them ached with words neither could bring themselves to deliver. Vallon alighted as if he’d been set free and looked up the flight of steps ascending to the palace doors, each step occupied by soldiers bearing banners.
Imperial Fire Page 52