Casca 3: The Warlord (9 page)

Sung Ti offered Casca the use of one of the horses of his stables but the offer was graciously refused. Casca had grown fond of the tough shaggy horse that had carried him so far. He did accept, with gratitude, the present of a short dagger – a miniature of the sword Sung Ti had shown him: Sung Ti had informed the blade was quite old and was a little son to his own blade, made by the same master craftsman over a hundred years ago and had rested by the father blade for that time, but now was perhaps the time for the son to leave home and serve a new master, even perhaps grow into a full sword. Sung Ti's smooth face and dark eyes twinkled at his joke as he bade farewell to the stranger.

Riding a well paved road, the miles slipped behind as Casca entered the lands of Tzin.

Passing through more populated villages, the seal given him by Sung Ti proclaiming him an imperial messenger sped his movement rapidly. Everywhere the seal was honored and food and shelter given without question, though he did receive questioning stares from the people. At one village he had his hair trimmed back to the nape of his neck and had a hard time talking the barber out of shaving the hair on the sides, leaving only a mane that would tie in the back, a style that was becoming popular among the young warrior nobility. The reason for the mane was to give their enemies something to hang to if their heads were taken as trophies. Casca bad no intention of losing his head and passed up the offer to make him more stylish, much to the barber's disappointment.

Many of the cities he passed through as he neared the home of the Emperor were walled with moats and strange-looking tiered structures. Straight lines and gently curving angles, sloping tiled roofs and temples, like the food, were designed to be in harmony with the land and surroundings, but built to last. Casca knew the structures to be solid, having built not a few fortifications during his years in the Legion and, although no engineer, he could see strength in the design.

As he came closer to the heartland, the land became more cultivated and caravans of merchants poured into the urban centers, bringing their loads on the back of two-humped camels and asses, horses and ox carts, loaded with those things which make a nation live.

Several times he was confronted by warriors on horseback, proud men in rich trappings of silk and gold, marvelous patterns of delicate scenes of the countryside and graceful flowers woven in threads of fine gold and silk, seeming not to be out of place on these warriors of the Tzin. Here art and war seemed to be in perfect blending. The courage of the warriors was clear and their affection for delicate and beautiful things did nothing to lessen their masculinity; indeed, it often served to accent the subtle danger that would come if one of these Asian equestrians was offended.

Casca entered the walls of the city Ch'ang-an after careful scrutiny by the officer in charge on the Moongate entrance. After inspection of the seals on the letters from the King of Kushan and Commander of the Jade Gate, he provided an escort that led the foreigner through the streets of the city to the quarters where the emissaries of foreign courts were provided the hospitality of the Tzin Emperor until such time as the son of Heaven could see them.

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."

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).