Seated at the tables, men feasted. Meaty bones, and what were considered the lesser cuts, were passed along to vassals lower in social standing. Those on the very lowest rungs of the social order were forced to catch their share in midair before it landed on the filthy floor patrolled by snarling dogs.
Sitting on a raised platform at the head of the room was the Chanyu and several other highborn persons who were either family, kinsmen, or, at the very least, close advisors. Zhizhi’s chair was raised still higher than all others so that his considerable stature was further enhanced. He stroked his luxuriant red beard and regarded the approaching procession with a keen eye as General Saikan was ushered forward by the escort to give a commentary on the treasures brought for the Chanyu’s inspection.
“Great and wise Chanyu,” Saikan began, “as you can see the God of the Eternal Blue Sky has seen fit to shine on the endeavors I, Guli Saikan Chuluum, your humble servant, have undertaken for your glory. Accumulated before you here is but a small fraction of the wealth which is now yours to do with as you please.”
“First tell me of the women,” the dragon king said, leaning forward in his seat to better examine the two exotic creatures before him in the dancing candlelight.
“They are Pleasure Virgins, great Chanyu, presents from King Orodes of the Parthians. He wishes you the best of health and hopes that you exercise daily on these exquisite women. Both have been taught the arts of ecstasy by the most experienced courtesans in the harem of the Parthian monarch and have come to you unspoiled by men.”
Chanyu Zhizhi got up from his chair and came down to inspect the women who stood before him, eyes downcast. Both were tall, of a height the equal of the Chanyu’s, and young, being no more than eighteen or nineteen. Each was a truly exquisite specimen with clear flawless skin and breasts that were large without being overly so. Zhizhi smelled each in turn and was well pleased. He felt the texture of the hair on the head of the red whore.
“She comes from an island in a cold sea and her name is Koulm.”
“Koulm,” Zhizhi repeated, her name difficult for him to pronounce.
But it was Jaha who particularly interested him. He lifted aside her garment, which was spilt to the thigh, revealing that she was shaved clean in the Roman manner. What he found next took him by surprise, her cock hanging large and limp.
“What is this!” he exclaimed. He lifted the organ and his fingers found the vulva behind her sack and the woman smiled at him a most wicked smile.
“I have never seen a woman the color of night,” he said aloud, “let alone one of both sexes. Is she the product of magic?”
“No, great Chanyu. If you refer to her color, in the west there are many lands, some weak, some powerful, where all the men and women are black. But this one is special. Her name is Jaha, which means ‘dignity’, and your eyes and hands do not deceive you. Jaha is not the product of sorcery, though I am told, in the bedroom, both women have been schooled to make them bewitching.”
“And you are sure they are virgins?”
“Of course, Dragon King. I have had them checked and neither has been soiled!”
“This will be interesting. The beauty of a concubine, the cock of a man and the cleft of a woman. What are you?” he asked Jaha. “A he or a she?”
The question was translated. “In my mind I am a woman,” Jaha said in a voice both light and firm. “In the bedroom I am both.” She bowed and presented the large black phallus to him.
“Yes, interesting,” Zhizhi said and the tables of men nearby roared with bravado while others farther away stood and craned their necks to improve their view of this spectacle. When the noise faded the Chanyu asked, “Is there not a third present from King Orodes, Guli Saikan? I am informed there is a Golden Pleasure Virgin.”
“Sadly, great Chanyu,” Saikan replied, “the desert took her from your bed. She lies buried there. A wasting sickness. There was nothing that could be done.”
Zhizhi considered this news while he poked flesh and pinched breast. And all the while neither woman gave the slightest hint of protest or displeasure. “That is unfortunate. A woman of gold. I was most intrigued.”
“In truth, of the three the golden one was the least impressive. And at twenty-three, almost an old woman.”
Zhizhi smacked the Red Whore on the bottom playfully, signaling the end of the inspection. Several of the white silk men ran from the shadows and led the women quickly away, the tribesmen voicing their disappointment at this departure. The Chanyu turned to face Saikan and Rufinius and stepped toward them. “This is the general of the barbarian slave army?” He walked to Rufinius and held out his hand for the tribune’s helmet.
“I am not a general, Chanyu Zhizhi,” said Rufinius, handing the galea to him. “My rank is that of tribune. I control the legion’s movement to the advantage of my Lord General.”
“The barbarian slave speaks!” the Chanyu exclaimed, his wonder echoed throughout the hall with uproar.
“I have learned the language of the Xiongnu to better follow orders given by my masters.”
“What is your name, slave tribune?”
“I am Tullus Bassius Rufinius. I am also called Alexandricus.”
Zhizhi felt the weight of the helmet, tossed it underarm back to Rufinius and faced General Saikan. “Why should I accept this army that you have purchased in my name, Guli Saikan? I asked for soldiers who could fight as Xiongnu fight – on horseback. Parthian horsemen were what I sought. What am I to do with …” he gestured with distaste at Rufinius, “… this?”
The men in the hall loudly mirrored Zhizhi’s displeasure.
“Great and wise Chanyu,” Saikan began. “It is true that these Romans are unlike any soldiers fighting in our lands. But it is this very unfamiliarity that can be of great benefit. The weapons and tactics used by Romans are utterly unknown to our enemies and will catch them by surprise. These soldiers also build machines of war – machines that hurl large boulders and jars of burning pitch, or fire multiple heavy steel bolts, much like a giant nu.”
“What of the war between my Parthian allies and these Romans? Are these men who wear red cloaks winning or losing?”
“Your friend and ally, King Orodes, defeated the men of Rome. The legion I bought for you to command is the fittest and strongest of the survivors.”
“This is an army already bowed by defeat?”
“King Orodes is the first to admit that it was the desert itself, along with their god, that beat Rome, and certainly not his generals. But the Romans are fast learners. They will not make the same mistakes again. Rome itself is wealthy, arrogant and hungry for conquest, and one defeat will only serve to increase its determination to bring Parthia under its sway. Many of the goods we, along with the Han, send to the west find their terminus in the homes of the rich citizens of Rome. King Orodes is merely the middleman.”
“You will provide me with a Roman from among this army. I would know more of this empire,” said Zhizhi.
“It would be my honor, great Chanyu,” the General replied. “I will find the right man. And if you could witness a Roman army on the field of battle, you would see thousands of men act as one. It is at once a thing of great violence and great beauty. I witnessed this very legion in action against the Han army of almost equal numbers accompanying the caravan. The battle was short but terrible, the outcome never in doubt. Their organization and their ferocity will strike fear into the hearts of your enemies, I assure you.”
“I will come to the Han caravan presently, Guli Saikan. Talking of it only serves to bring the rising heat of anger to my face.”
Saikan bowed his head. “Yes, Chanyu.”
Zhizhi addressed the tribune. “Roman, do you agree with Guli Saikan’s assessment of your army’s defeat?”
“The desert was a factor, great Chanyu, for there was no cover from a rain of arrows that was inexhaustible, launched by bows with phenomenal range. Others were poor leadership, the arrogance General Saikan spoke of, and our
own bows that lacked the range of the Parthian weapon.”
“You speak our tongue well.”
“I have had enough time to learn the basics, Chanyu Zhizhi.”
Chanyu Zhizhi grunted, returned to his seat, and regarded both Rufinius and Saikan darkly as if deliberating their fate. “Have you anything further to say, Guli Saikan?”
“Only that I bring the great Chanyu a personal gift.”
Zhizhi’s mood remained unchanged. “Another gift? Is that in addition to the ending, by your action, of any chance of peace between Xiongnu and Han?”
“Great Chanyu,” said Saikan as boldly as he dared. “When I left these lands to travel west as your emissary to Parthia, it was to buy soldiers for the coming inevitable war with the Han. That was my chief purpose. On the journey home, when we came upon the Han caravan, I had been beyond communication with your court for almost seven seasons and was not to know that the winds had changed. In sacking their caravan, I chose only to do so in order to bring greater glory and wealth to you.”
“You said you had a gift …” the Dragon King replied, unimpressed.
The general made a gesture and one of his men brought forward a face that surprised Rufinius.
Zhizhi laughed and the great hall laughed along with him. “Saikan,” he shouted over the raucous noise, “pray tell me that is not for my bedroom!” More laughter ensued before it finally died down, and then only to better hear Saikan’s reply.
“Her name is Mena,” the general announced. “She is a witch and an augury.”
Mena stood before the King not as a slave but as a woman of great power with her back straight and her head unbowed. When Rufinius saw her, his chest filled with pride for knowing her and yet he was also fearful. Kings were like gods – unreliable and unpredictable. Mena could be feted or just as readily put to the sword.
“She will tell of your future and the futures of your enemies,” the general informed him. “I have witnessed her foresight first hand and can attest to it. We have spent almost a year in the desert and, like Alexandricus, she speaks Xiongnu.”
“Can you tell the futures of my enemies and lay spells on them?”
Mena opened her tattooed eye and a beetle crawled out of it, ran down her nose and then flew off. “Of course.”
Men seated nearby gasped at this display but the Chanyu was intrigued and Rufinius could barely hide his smirk. He had seen her perform this trick so many times, most impressively with a newborn scorpion, its stinger secretly removed.
“Provide some evidence of this power,” the Chanyu told her, leaning forward on his chair, stroking his beard in consideration. “Tell me what sentence I am to proclaim on Guli Saikan.”
“Lord King, while I am nothing but a slave and worth only what value you place upon me, anything I say on this matter now will only influence your decision in another direction.”
Zhizhi took a moment to consider her reply. “Yes, of course you are right.”
“If it is proof you seek, I would ask only that you give me some time to produce it.”
“How much time? A week, a month?” the Chanyu asked, intrigued by this ghastly old one-eyed hag.
“Minutes.”
“Then it is minutes you shall have. Now turn around so that I may not look upon you.”
Mena dutifully turned her back on the Dragon King as laughter rang from the tables nearer to the Chanyu’s.
When it died down, Zhizhi boomed, “Guli Saikan of the Left!”
General Saikan raised his eyes from the floor.
“For your meddling that has brought war and hardship upon my people,” the Chanyu continued, “I sentence you to be quartered.” A sharp intake of breath could be heard among the general’s vassals crowding the great hall. Zhizhi continued. “And you, Roman – show me fealty.”
Rufinius took to his right knee, head bowed in the correct Roman way.
“As the commander of the instrument that has brought this war to the Xiongnu, I sentence you to be quartered also.”
Approval rose from the vassals and the Chanyu let it run its course before raising a hand to bring silence to the room. Into this void he called out, “However, given that killing either man in the circumstances now facing the Empire of the Tribes of Xiongnu would be an affront to common sense, as your merciful Chanyu I commute these sentences. Instead you are both to march north to defend our lands against the Dinlin tribes, who have broken their treaty with me and have chosen pillage in place of peace – you, Roman, to better learn war as it is practiced in these lands; and, you, Guli Saikan, that the experience of being out of favor will teach you humility.”
The Chanyu turned again to Rufinius. “I accept that my army’s journey has been long and arduous so I will provide my Roman swordsmen with three days of meat, grain and rest. Then you must take my men and leave.” The Chanyu’s eyes swept the great hall. “Is there anything further?”
“Yes, Chanyu,” said a small voice.
“Who speaks?”
Mena raised her hand, her back still to the Chanyu. “Minutes have transpired.”
“Turn and face me, witch,” Zhizhi told her.
Mena held out her hand and took a tightly folded parcel of silk from it. She then prized it open so that it became a single square sheet several hands in width. Han characters were painted on it, the paint long dried.
“What is that?” inquired the Chanyu, motioning to see it.
A vassal snatched the silk from Mena and ran it to him. And as Zhizhi looked over it, surprise spread across his face. “How is this possible? You have made a record … a record of the sentence just imposed on Guli Saikan and the Roman by me that is true in every detail. How is it possible that this could be written before it was pronounced?”
*
Rufinius and Lucia rode through the mist, shoulders hunched against the icicles that bit their skin, Lucia leaning into her husband’s back for the shelter it afforded. In the space between them they carried a precious load.
“How is the patient today?” Lucia called as their mount approached the wagon and came to a stop beside the wagon.
Appias, laid out under bearskins in the back of the wagon, turned his ashen face toward them. “He will live,” he replied, his voice weak and his words accompanied by a rattling cough.
“As I believe I told you already,” Mena added, seated up the front, the reins in her hands.
“You did,” agreed Rufinius. “But I have seen you look better, friend,” he said to Appias, noting Feiyan sitting attentively beside him and folding bandages.
“Concern is misplaced,” Mena advised him. “Yes, the patient looks bad but Appias’s time to pass is not upon him.”
“These claimed abilities of yours I am beginning to find disturbing, Mena. How did you manage that trick in front of the Chanyu?”
“What trick?” she replied. The hag then bowed slightly as if Rufinius had given her a great compliment.
The tribune continued, “Appias, Lucia and I have brought your weapons and armor. As a legionary, you cannot be without them.”
Lucia placed his mail cuirass, gladius, pugio, red sagum, focale and polished galea on the boards beside the wounded man. Appias reached for the gladius, pleased to be reunited with it, but had not the strength to lift it. Rufinius took the sword from the pile, pulled it from its scabbard, and held the blade so that it caught what little light was available. “I have sharpened and honed its blade for you, should the Xiongnu give you any trouble.”
“I thank you, Alexandricus. I’m sure it will give them pause,” said Appias.
“It would if they saw you in action against the Han.” The two men took each other’s hand. “Be well, historian.”
“And you, Tribune.” Appias did his best to smile against the pain that wracked his body.
“What does the Han doctor say?” Rufinius asked, looking first at Feiyan and then Mena.
“Poison has returned to the blood,” the hag said. “The doctor is not as confident as
me.”
“I would ask that you make sacrifices on Appias’s behalf and beg for an intercession from whichever gods you think appropriate. There must be a white calf somewhere among all this livestock that can be purchased.”
“I will see to it, as well as make entreaties of my own.”
Rufinius walked around to the front of the wagon, reached up and pulled Mena into an embrace. “You have been a good slave but an even better friend. I will miss your counsel almost as much as your scheming.”
“The gods love you, Rufinius. In this they are not alone.”
“Look after him,” he said, nodding at Appias.
“You know I will.”
Nearby, cornicens blew the order to march and all over the legion optiones and tesserarii responded by yelling at their men, preparing them to move off as one, properly arrayed in their lines, rather than as a ragged group of 5,000 stragglers. Watching on were the people of the Chanyu’s capital, along with their many dogs, the entire city come to see the army of foreigners depart. The army, however, was in two minds about leaving. The legionaries had become accustomed to the comforts of plentiful fish, meat, and grain, and relished the reintroduction of coarse bread to their diet. But, conversely, they were also pleased to be removed from the sight of their mistrustful dominus, Chanyu Zhizhi.
Lucia placed a hand on Appias’s good shoulder. “We are all sorry to be leaving without you.”
“Dentianus and Carbo told me to tell you to hurry and get better,” Rufinius added. “And Libo called you a cunnus.”
“You tell them thanks,” Appias replied. “Even Libo. I have no regret. The Xiongnu want to know all about Rome. Before I’m finished with them, they’ll wish they had never heard of it.”
Rufinius grinned. “That’s the Appias we all know.”
“You will be back,” Mena told the tribune. “You and General Saikan.”
“How do you know?” asked Rufinius.
Mena shrugged. “Because I know.”
Field of Mars (The Complete Novel) Page 37