“That is only part of the story,” Jun countered. “The grasslands dried out, but the livestock problem wasn’t the main reason for their mass migration out of western Asia. As early as the fourth millennium BCE, the overlords had learned to prey upon the neighboring agricultural population.”
“I never thought of that,” Griffin interjected. “Of course, it makes sense. Before desiccation began, fertile farmland would have existed along the fringes of the steppes. Agricultural communities probably flourished side by side with the nomads.”
“Sadly, the domestication of the horse gave an advantage to the nomads,” Jun said. “Rather than trading peacefully with the farmers as they had done in the past, they swept in and raided the agricultural communities. On horseback, the nomads struck too quickly to be pursued.”
“Nice people,” Cassie said sarcastically. “Except that it’s a bad long-term strategy. I mean, sooner or later the farmers must have gotten fed up with the chronic pillaging and moved away.”
“I believe the nomads developed other tactics to control the farmers,” Jun said. “Various tribes of horsemen would fight each other to claim control of a given agricultural area. The victors would offer to protect the farmers in their territory from other predators in exchange for a share of their crops and other goods.”
“That’s just great,” the pythia remarked. “They invented the stone age version of a protection racket.”
“And gave birth to the exploiter model of overlord culture which has plagued us ever since,” Griffin concluded.
“This state of affairs existed for at least a thousand years before desiccation affected central Asia around 3500 BCE,” Jun said. “Some of the farming communities would have died out from famine after their crops failed year upon year. Others would have moved their communities farther away from the dry grasslands into the mountains and river valleys. This would have made them inaccessible to the overlords whose principal tactic was a speedy attack over flat, open terrain.”
“So, you’re saying the overlords packed it in and went to look for easier targets?” Cassie asked.
“Yes, and this search led them very far from their homeland. We find evidence of their horse culture dispersing in all directions. The bulk of the nomads infested Europe, north Africa, and western Asia but other groups continued eastward. Their numbers were small, but they didn’t need large armies to prevail over the resident agriculturalists. They brought with them the inventions of domesticated horses, spoke-wheeled chariots, and bronze weaponry. It has always been believed that these things were invented independently by the Chinese, but none of that is true.”
“So, you’re giving overlords the credit for all those inventions.” Cassie’s voice was doubtful.
“Not precisely.” Jun balked. “The overlords were never any good at invention. Their only talent lay in exploitation. This is evident from the very start. There would be no overlord culture at all if they hadn’t solved the puzzle of how to exploit horses as something more than a source of meat. From there, they learned to exploit other human beings.”
“How do you mean?” Cassie asked.
“Consider the topic of metallurgy. History books frequently sing the praises of overlords for their invention of bronze weapons, but this is ridiculous when you think about it.”
“Yes, I see your point.” Griffin seemed to be turning over a new theory in his mind. “Mining metals requires a detailed knowledge of the local terrain. This could only be achieved by a sedentary population who worked the land and could identify ore deposits. Metal craft would also require a specialized labor force. A farming community with a dependable food supply could afford to support the efforts of miners and metalworkers. In contrast, nomads on horseback held only a superficial knowledge of the terrain through which they moved. They certainly had no specialized skills other than combat.”
“But they could threaten and bully the people who did,” Cassie observed. “Once an overlord gang was able to target a farming community that had its own miners and metalworkers, they could force them to make weapons to overlord specifications.”
“I believe you’re both right,” Jun concurred. “The same principle would have been true in the invention of the spoke-wheeled chariot. Sedentary woodworkers and blacksmiths would have crafted the vehicles the overlords required to carry out their endless battles with one another.”
“Because nomad populations were so mobile, I can see how they might have spread their extorted inventions all the way east to China. But what about horse domestication?” the pythia insisted. “I mean, there are wild horses in this part of Asia so that might have happened right here.”
“DNA,” Rou murmured cryptically.
Jun wisely decided not to remark on the fact that his granddaughter had finally found her voice. Apparently, he realized that doing so would only dampen her budding conversational skills. He proceeded as if she’d been actively conversing with the group all day. “Yes, you are correct. Until quite recently, horse domestication was believed to have developed in isolation in China. However, we now have DNA results which prove that theory to be false.”
“How so?” Griffin asked.
“The yDNA of all the horses in China, in fact of all domesticated horses in the world, comes from a bloodline that originated in Kazakhstan. It would seem that domesticated male horses were brought into China by the overlord nomads and bred with wild mares who were caught locally and later domesticated.”
“So, the overlords loaded up their horses and their war wagons and came to China looking for a new place to set up their extortion racket,” Cassie said. “But that still doesn’t connect all the dots for me. Why are you so sure that the man in my vision was your Yellow Emperor?”
Jun seemed to take no offense at her dogged persistence. “There are many stories associated with the man known as Huang Di—the Yellow Emperor. Some have been dismissed as pure myth when they should have been viewed as clues to his real identity. Let’s start with the name itself, ‘Yellow Emperor.’”
“Perhaps an association with the river of the same name?” Griffin suggested.
“Or quite literally a description of the coloring of the man,” Jun countered. “Cassie said the man in her vision was blond. Myths tell us that the Yellow Emperor had four eyes. Two appeared shut at all times, but he could always see what people were doing.”
“Now that has to be fiction,” Cassie objected.
“No,” Rou asserted quietly.
The two visitors glanced at her in puzzlement.
Jun smiled. “You need to consider how Caucasian eyes might appear to an Asian who had never seen such eyes before. The Caucasian eye is more deeply recessed in the skull than an Asian eye. It is the reason your eyelids have a fold, and ours do not.”
Griffin peered at Cassie’s face and then at Jun’s, apparently noting the difference for the first time. “You’re quite right, of course.” His voice held a note of amazement.
“In Asia, there are women who have plastic surgery to create a double eyelid because this is considered more beautiful.”
“Get out!” Cassie exclaimed. “It’s the skin-bleaching issue from Africa and India all over again—everybody trying so hard not to look like themselves.”
“I imagine because the Western standard of beauty dominated so many colonized countries,” Griffin speculated. “A sad legacy of overlord values.”
“Perhaps now you can understand why an ancient historian might have interpreted double eyelids as another pair of eyes,” Jun continued. “A figurative way of saying that the Yellow Emperor had Caucasian eyes.”
His listeners offered no contradiction.
“But there is more evidence,” the trove keeper went on. “Much more. The Yellow Emperor is frequently credited with inventing the spoke-wheeled war chariot. As we have just discussed, this is an invention brought to China by overlords. Any sort of wheeled conveyance would have been far more useful on the open
plains of the steppes than in the mountains of China.
“Aside from the war chariot itself, Huang Di supposedly invented the south-pointing chariot. He is said to have won a decisive victory over an enemy on a foggy battlefield using this device to find his way. The most interesting fact about a south-pointing chariot is that it only works over flat terrain. If the wheels are forced to travel over mountains, the gears will not function properly. To those who insist this was a Chinese invention, I must ask what possible use it could be in our rugged landscape. A south-pointing chariot is very helpful in steppe terrain because it lacks any sort of natural landmarks to guide travelers. Frequent dust storms in the region could cause disorientation which would also make such a device useful. There is no doubt the south-pointing chariot must have come from the steppes as did the man who first brought it here.”
“Grandfather, tell them about his head,” Rou hinted in a voice barely above a whisper. She had seemingly relaxed enough to form full sentences so long as no one was paying her any attention.
Both Griffin and Cassie had learned by now not to react every time she spoke. They kept their eyes firmly focused on the trove keeper.
“Ah, yes,” Jun said. “In some accounts, the Yellow Emperor is said to have had a deformed cranium.”
Cassie shrugged. “I couldn’t tell from my vision since he was wearing a battle helmet.”
“Deliberate cranial deformation was practiced by many overlord tribes,” Jun said.
The pythia gasped in disbelief. “You mean they did that to themselves intentionally?”
“At first the result may have been accidental,” the trove keeper explained. “Nomads swaddled their infants against a cradle board to keep them still during long migrations. The head, bound tightly to a board for hours on end, if not days, would eventually be remolded with a sloping forehead. Because the nomads became the ruling elite in whatever territories they conquered, a deformed cranium was viewed as a sign of high status.”
“Yeesh!” Cassie exclaimed. “Any kid who spent the first year of its life in a straight-jacket would be likely to develop some serious psychological issues later on. Actually, swaddling might go a long way toward explaining why overlords were generally so bad-tempered.”
“Have I convinced you yet that your blond man is the Yellow Emperor?” Jun teased.
“I’m coming around,” Cassie joked back. “What else you got?”
Jun obliged by offering more evidence. “The Yellow Emperor engaged in warfare with other nomadic tribes like his own. There is a mention of a battle against ‘the forces of the Nine Li under their bronze-headed leader Chi Yu and his eighty-one horned and four-eyed brothers.’”
“If we were to interpret that passage figuratively instead of mythologically,” Griffin interjected, “‘bronze-headed’ might refer to a bronze war helmet like those worn by overlords. Similarly, the horned and four-eyed brothers might mean eighty-one warriors with Caucasian eyes who were wearing horned battle helmets.”
“Very good.” Jun nodded approvingly. “Now you’re seeing the facts behind the flowery language. But the most telling evidence of all is a comment made by a much later historian. He said that the Lord of the Yellow Earth governed and protected the black-haired people and that they were happy under his rule.” Jun raised his eyebrows quizzically, silently challenging Cassie to interpret.
“Black-haired,” she echoed. “As opposed to what? Everybody in China has black hair.” She paused to consider. “Unless, of course, the Yellow Emperor and his cronies weren’t brunettes.”
“Exactly,” Jun concurred.
“But there should be some yDNA indicating a Caucasian influence here,” the pythia insisted. “When we were in India, we found an overlord DNA signature all over the place.”
“I don’t believe the number of overlords who migrated to China was nearly as high,” Jun said. “While we see the same general population-flow coming from the northwest and traveling to the southeast, a much larger number of overlords targeted India instead of China.”
“It does make sense that there would be a very small genetic footprint this far east,” Griffin agreed. “If the local farmers were peaceful and willing to tolerate the newcomers, the overlords might have set themselves up as the ruling elite with very little trouble. Jun’s reference to the black-haired people being happy with the Yellow Emperor’s rule implies as much. Over the centuries, the overlords would have intermarried and become assimilated into the Chinese population without much fuss.”
Cassie threw her hands up in mock surrender. “OK, you win. I believe the Yellow Emperor was really a refugee from the steppes.”
“Jun has certainly made a compelling case,” Griffin agreed.
“Huang Di is credited with all sorts of inventions which set China on the path to advanced civilization. Of course, it’s far more likely that he and his tribe acquired those inventions from the agriculturalists they conquered along their migration route: astronomy, writing, weights and measures, silk weaving courtesy of Huang Di’s wife. All of these are inventions which would have been useful to a settled agricultural population, not to nomads.”
“Apparently the overlord rolling stone gathered quite a bit of moss and spread it to the ends of the earth,” the scrivener remarked.
“The Yellow emperor is said to have ruled the Yellow River valley for a hundred years from 2698 to 2598 BCE. That statement, I grant you, is most probably an exaggeration. The rest of what I’ve told you is fact rather than fiction.” Jun carefully rewrapped the compass-head and slid it back into the desk drawer before locking it. Giving a little bow, he said, “Thank you, Right Honorable pythia, for providing us with this valuable bit of information.”
Responding in kind, Cassie bobbed her head. “You’re most welcome, Hongshan Trove keeper Zhang Jun. It was my pleasure to be of assistance.”
The scrivener seemed amused by her rare attempt at formality.
“But this is not the reason you came here,” Jun protested. “Considering the service you’ve just rendered to us, Rou and I must devote all our efforts to helping you find your missing Minoan relic.”
The pythia glanced out the window worriedly. “Now that I’ve had a chance to absorb the vibe in Lanzhou, I’m fairly certain that the Minoans never stopped here at all.”
“Then we must accompany you farther east along the river,” Jun suggested. “There are other ancient sites you should examine.”
“Erlitou?” Rou suggested tentatively.
“Early who?” Cassie asked.
Jun laughed. “Erlitou was the capital of the Xia dynasty around 2000 BCE. My granddaughter has offered a very good suggestion.”
Rou silently beamed at his words of approval.
“How far is Erlitou from here?” Griffin asked.
“About six hundred miles. We can set out tomorrow morning.”
“Great,” Cassie said. “That will give me time to catch the evening show of the square-dancing grannies. I want to take some snapshots because nobody back home will believe me.”
Chapter 15—What Dreams May Come
The diviner settled into the easy chair in his sleeping quarters. He gave a mirthless chuckle at its inappropriate name. Considering his chronic insomnia, there was nothing particularly easy or restful about this piece of furniture. He glanced at a tumbler of water placed on the table next to his chair. Beside it sat a small bottle containing the medicine that Brother Andrew had prepared for him.
Abraham thought about the previous concoction which the herbalist assured him would assist in sleep. It had failed miserably, only augmenting the nightmares from which he already suffered. He wondered if this new medicine would be any better. Could it be any worse? He sighed and carefully measured out the dose. The herbalist had been most insistent that Abraham take only the specified number of drops and no more. Apparently, this remedy was far more potent than the last.
He swirled the contents of the glass and drank
it over the course of several minutes. Well, it didn’t taste as bad as the other medicine had—perhaps because it was far more diluted. Abraham waited a few moments. Nothing happened. He fought the urge to double the dosage. Instead, he resigned himself to another failed experiment. Dimming the table lamp, he settled back and closed his eyes. Brother Andrew would certainly get an earful in the morning. He would...
***
Abraham was standing in a field of tall green grass that smelled of springtime. The sun was shining brightly overhead. He didn’t know why, but he felt utterly free from care. All his worries, the burden of his position, fell away from him like a heavy overcoat on a summer’s day. He felt a calm conviction that all was well. It was an utterly unknown sensation. Abraham couldn’t recall a time, even as a little boy, when all had been supremely well. There had always been something to fear or someone. Above all else, he had lived his entire life in constant terror of displeasing the Lord. But at this moment, the diviner felt blameless in God’s eyes. He knew he could do no wrong and that all his petty transgressions had been forgiven.
It was utterly baffling how he knew all these things, but he was convinced that they were true just the same. He walked up to the crest of a hill. The sight before him took his breath away. A quarter mile below, where the hillside sloped downward, stood a shining city. The buildings were all made of white marble, and the roofs of the buildings glinted of gold. A marble wall surrounded the city. The only opening was barred by a pair of tall golden gates. From inside the city walls, he could hear music—the sweetest sound he had ever heard or imagined. Voices endlessly raised in a chorus of praise. Abraham looked at the ground beneath his feet where a cobblestone path had sprung up out of the earth. It led from where he stood directly to the city’s entrance.
A voice spoke beside him. “You are surely blessed among men, Abraham Metcalf.”
He turned to see a being of surpassing beauty standing at his side. He was clothed in a shimmering white robe, and a golden glow radiated all around his form. Although the creature had no wings, Abraham was convinced he stood in the presence of an archangel.
Arkana Archaeology Mystery Box Set 2 Page 38