‘Yun Shan!’
At that very instant, Wei had sprung from the darkness behind him, implacably thrusting his sword forward.
Yun Shan managed to say, ‘Xiong Ying, no . . . !’
But the Roman was turning, slowly, towards the enemy standing stock-still behind him, Metellus’s other gladius sunken into his chest up to its hilt.
Metellus extracted the sword while Wei let his own drop, making the floor and walls of the chamber ring with argentine echoes. He slumped to the floor, his eyes still wide in an incredulous expression. Yun Shan knelt beside him and received, in the darkness, his last look. She then closed his eyes, whispering, ‘Rest now, finally, young Wei. May oblivion descend upon your soul . . .’
Metellus knelt and picked the body up into his arms and carried it outside.
The combatants saw him thus, ascending the stairs with the body of the youth in his arms, white with the extreme pallor of death, his long tapered fingers swinging inertly with every step.
Combat ceased. The survivors turned tail and bolted through the open gate towards their camp.
Metellus deposited Wei’s body at the foot of the great staircase and joined Dan Qing, holding Yun Shan by the hand. There was no exulting, no cries of victory. The ground was scattered with dead bodies clutching at one another in a final show of violence, while the survivors sought out their comrades, separating them with measured gestures from the grip of the enemy.
Dan Qing had his horse brought to him and led his men out to chase the fugitives who were fleeing to their camp. Metellus and Yun Shan also leapt into the saddle and galloped out behind him. The camp was completely surrounded and the soldiers of the imperial army dropped to their knees before the prince, declaring their subjugation and begging for clemency.
The warriors of clay vanished after winning the battle, just as they had appeared.
Yun Shan did not stop. She rode through the camp at full speed as though she were looking for someone, until she got to the animal pen and found Daruma trying to get on to a camel. She grabbed him by the arm and, indifferent to his protests, had him dragged into the presence of Dan Qing.
‘He’s the one who betrayed us. It was he who had me carry the dove to you.’
Daruma seemed astonished. ‘Dove? What dove are you talking about?’
‘Don’t pretend you don’t know! I’m talking about the dove that led Wei to the walls of Li Cheng and that you arranged to have put into my boat as a gift for Dan Qing.’
Daruma widened his eyes but Yun Shan pressed on: ‘I should have known that it was a trap. Only you knew where I was headed.’
Metellus stepped forward and stared at him with a calm look, but his voice was hard when he asked, ‘Why?’
Daruma looked at him through watery eyes, with a pathetically defenceless expression. ‘I’m a merchant, Metellus, and it is my nature to buy and sell . . . everything, even myself at times. But I did not betray you. I would never have done so. I truly do not know what you are talking about, but in any case it was Baj Renjie who prepared the boat.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me it was Baj Renjie?’ Yun Shan insisted.
‘There was no time for long explanations. I told you that trusted friends had made the arrangements, remember? Baj Renjie reached me one night at the caravanserai. He was in tatters, deeply upset. He told me that he had managed to get away from Wei’s men. He asked me about you and I told him that we absolutely needed to find a boat and help you reach safety along with Metellus, and that I didn’t know how I could get one. He offered to help me. He assured me that he would get a boat, with everything that was needed, to the bend of the ford on the Luo Ho river. I thanked him. What else could I do?’
‘But it was one of your men who gave me the cage with the dove in it,’ retorted Yun Shan.
‘One of my men?’ protested Daruma. ‘That’s impossible. I was alone.’
Yun Shan hesitated a moment and then demanded, ‘If you had no role in this whole story, then why were you just trying to escape when I caught up with you?’
‘Because I didn’t want to be found in the wrong place at the wrong time, fearing that my presence here might raise suspicions, which is exactly what has happened. But it’s not how it looks, you must believe me. I’m here against my will. I was about to leave the caravanserai, fifteen days ago, when I was stopped and arrested by Wei’s guards. At the time, I was certain that Baj Renjie had betrayed me. He was the only one who knew, the only one I’d trusted. As far as this bird cage is concerned, even if I’d seen it, I’d have had no reason to be suspicious about it. How could a dove reveal the whereabouts of Li Cheng?’
‘Perhaps because rumour has it that no one who has tried to reach Li Cheng in a boat ever returned to tell about it. If Wei had had their boat followed, he might have captured Yun Shan and Metellus, but he would never have found Li Cheng, and that was his true obsession,’ Dan Qing said, his head hanging dubiously.
‘I believe him,’ said Metellus.
‘I’d like to, but I can’t,’ retorted the prince. ‘Who warned Wei about our re-entry into the country? How did the Flying Foxes manage to attack us right after we’d passed the border? Only Daruma knew where we were headed.’
Daruma, who up until that moment had seemed more bewildered than worried, began to change expression. ‘You can’t seriously believe such a thing . . . Prince, but why would I have saved you to then turn you over to the enemy? It doesn’t make sense!’
‘Yes, it does, I’m afraid,’ replied Dan Qing, ‘and it fits in perfectly with a diabolically cunning plan. The only way to attract all the different components of the resistance was to have me return after a period of imprisonment. All those who were opposed to Wei’s tyranny but who were scattered throughout the country would join around me. And Wei would be able to wipe them all out in a single blow. And that’s what was about to happen, thanks to the idea of using someone who was above suspicion: you. Only you knew when we would be crossing the border, and when we were about to go up to the Monastery of Whispering Waters, you abandoned us, because you knew what awaited us there. Then, at Luoyang, you managed to free me, regaining credibility and my trust. But then you used my sister to find this refuge and you brought Wei’s army here. Your presence in the camp is the proof of your guilt.’
‘But . . . that’s nothing more than a series of coincidences!’ protested Daruma.
‘That may be,’ replied Dan Qing, ‘but I cannot run the risk.’ He turned to his men. ‘Take him away.’
Metellus approached. ‘Please reconsider. Don’t let yourself be swayed by the demon of suspicion. You have already committed one atrocity that you came to regret.’
Dan Qing turned away without answering and walked towards his horse.
Daruma shouted to Metellus, ‘Help me!’
Yun Shan neared him. ‘Unfortunately, I’m afraid my brother is right. When I found Daruma, he had found a camel and was trying to escape.’
‘He admitted that himself,’ replied Metellus. ‘And I would have done the same. He couldn’t risk being found here.’
At that moment, one of the monks ran up, panting. ‘Come quickly!’
Metellus and Yun Shan followed him and were taken inside one of the pavilions, where Baj Renjie was dangling from the pole that supported the centre of the tent. Metellus looked at him in consternation.
‘I think this may be enough to exculpate Daruma,’ he said. ‘Let’s go and tell your brother.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Yun Shan. ‘I’ll run and stop him.’
‘My Lord!’ rang out another voice nearby. ‘Look! We caught him as he was trying to get away!’ Four of his men were dragging a man dressed in the Persian style.
‘Who are you?’ demanded Metellus, in Persian.
The man did not answer.
‘I’m the Roman commander who broke out of Aus Daiwa with nine of my men. Can you imagine what I’ll do to you if you do not speak?’ he said, pronouncing the words in a tone that left no doubts.
‘I wa
s sent by the great king, Shapur, to warn Wei of the escape of the man with the piercing eyes. I could never have imagined that you had run off together!’
‘We did not, in fact.’ Dan Qing’s voice sounded behind them. ‘It was by chance that we met.’
‘Are you convinced now?’ asked Metellus.
Dan Qing lowered his head.
‘Where is Daruma?’
‘He’s alive,’ said Yun Shan, running back into the tent. ‘Just in time!’
‘Just in time . . .’ repeated Metellus. ‘One must always take one’s time before judging a man guilty. And before taking his life.’
Dan Qing approached him. ‘Come, let us go back to Li Cheng. It has been a long and difficult day. Tomorrow everything will appear in a different light.’
They mounted their horses and headed towards Li Cheng, proceeding in silence for a long stretch. They crossed the gate of the citadel and Dan Qing turned towards the mausoleum of Yuandi and then towards Metellus. ‘How did you do it?’ he asked.
‘Nothing strikes terror into the hearts of men like the unknown,’ replied Metellus. ‘Even the most courageous are afraid of what they cannot understand. I brought an ancient legend to life. There are many men in this city who resemble us Romans. I chose those among them who had the most Western features, I trained them in our combat techniques and at the crucial moment I had them appear wearing the armour I’d taken from the statues, with their faces and hands coated with clay. When I’d achieved the desired effect, I had them disappear. For a brief time, legend became reality, history. And then history faded back into myth. This day will never be forgotten.’
35
OUT ON THE MONASTERY BALCONY, Metellus observed the spectacle of the sun sinking behind the forested mountains amid flaming clouds that slowly changed colour and from bright red faded into azure blue and then the intense indigo of the West, where the evening star already sparkled. From the garden, where once, during his long convalescence, he had seen Yun Shan passing like an apparition, the song of a nightingale arose. The song echoed with shadows and he was moved as it aroused distant memories and present emotions that were no less intense. His hand instinctively fell to his belt and found a wooden elephant with a jointed trunk, the toy that he had hoped to bring his son after his imprisonment . . .
He heard her footsteps approaching and she was standing in front of him. ‘Do you know what kept the tip of my sword from your throat, down there in the mausoleum of Yuandi?’ he asked her. ‘Your fragrance . . . the scent of your hair, the only sensation that I remember from the time I was unconscious. That fragrance is a part of my soul and my senses now.’
‘And your heart is a part of my heart, Xiong Ying.’
‘I know. The power of the hidden heart saved me in the arena, and perhaps even down in the mausoleum, a moment before Wei could run me through with his sword.’
‘No, that can’t be,’ replied Yun Shan. ‘My energy was surely not capable of stopping him.’
‘Then it was your presence. I know I couldn’t have been faster than he was, I’m sure of it. Wei sensed you, even in that deep darkness. He felt that you were close and that made him hesitate . . .’
The girl dropped her head to hide her tears.
A long silence followed and when Yun Shan raised her eyes she saw that Metellus was turning a little object over in his hands. ‘May I ask you what you’re thinking of, Xiong Ying?’
Metellus gazed at her with eyes full of sadness.
‘What are you thinking of, Xiong Ying?’ she repeated softly.
Metellus opened his hand and showed her the wooden elephant. ‘It had been hidden in my belt for so long that I’d forgotten about it . . . I bought it for my son . . . I . . . I have to go back, Yun Shan.’
‘Go back? But why? Here you have the love . . . of everyone.’
Metellus replied, ‘I love you, Princess, more than my own life, but I must go. I’ve felt the need to return inside of me ever since I read that inscription on the green stone . . . the words of men who had given up everything, even their own language, in a vain attempt to forget the land of their fathers and the loved ones they had left behind . . . They never returned, it’s true. But I made a promise, to my dying emperor, that I would return to prevent the ruin of that world, and to my son, that I would not leave him alone.
‘I couldn’t live like this, Yun Shan. Can you understand? You would see me bend under the weight of these unkept promises, day after day, thinking of my son, who continues to trust in my homecoming, not knowing that this will never happen. Forgive me, my beloved, my dream, my soul . . .’
Yun Shan ran away in tears.
Dan Qing saw her as he left his quarters, and approached Metellus. ‘When a woman cries, a man loses a part of his heart, says an ancient proverb.’
‘It’s the truth, Dan Qing.’
‘The love that you have for my sister has healed a part of my own blame. It makes me very sad to think it may end.’
‘It will never end, Prince. I will love Yun Shan as long as I breathe, and no other woman will ever replace her in my heart.’
‘You speak like a man who is preparing to leave.’
‘You’re right. I must leave. Too much time has passed. I promised my emperor that I would return to keep my homeland from ruin. A promise made to a dying man . . .’
Dan Qing considered him with a bitter smile. ‘Do you remember when I told you that I would seek news about Taqin Guo, your country? Well, the news has arrived. Bad news, I’m afraid. My messengers wore out their horses riding back through all of Asia to report that Taqin Guo no longer exists. The rivalry between the heads of the army has dismembered the country into many parts which have gone adrift like the wreckage of a vessel destroyed by a storm. Just like what has happened here.
‘You would be going back to nothing, Xiong Ying. But here you have everything. You will be the commander of my armies, titles and honours will be bestowed upon you, and you will become my brother by marrying Yun Shan. We will rebuild the unity of this land together. We will bring peace and prosperity.’
Metellus replied with a melancholy smile. ‘The Heavens know how much I would like to be part of this future, but I can’t . . . I can’t. I’ve tried. I thought that my love for Yun Shan would make me forget all else, even my son . . .’ Tears streaked down his face. ‘But I have not succeeded, Dan Qing. I tried but I have failed.’
Dan Qing stared at him, greatly moved himself. ‘Don’t go, Xiong Ying . . . Please stay . . . I beg of you.’
The prince of the royal blood of the Han, the legitimate lord of the Middle Kingdom, implored him in tears.
Metellus dropped his head in silence.
FROM THE HILLTOP, Dan Qing and Yun Shan watched the dark figures of Daruma and his convoy and Metellus on horseback silhouetted against an enormous red sun, veiled by distant clouds as it set over the steppe.
‘Don’t forget us, Xiong Ying!’ shouted Dan Qing suddenly, overwhelmed by emotion. ‘We will always carry you in our hearts!’
The wind brought his words to Metellus’s ear. He waved his arms in the air and shouted back, ‘I will not forget you!’
Dan Qing turned to face his sister, tears that he could not curb running down his cheeks. ‘I don’t think that you could ever make any man in my kingdom happy, or any man in the neighbouring kingdoms. Do as your heart wills, my sister . . .’
Yun Shan respectfully bowed her head and then turned her eyes to her brother as she had not done for a long time, with a look full of intense, sorrowful love. ‘Farewell, then, brother. May the Heavens grant you all that you desire. You will remain forever in my heart.’
‘And you in mine, sister. Go now, before I start crying like a child.’
Yun Shan spurred on her horse and flew over the slopes of the hills that bordered the caravan route.
‘Look!’ said Daruma. ‘Look, up there!’
Metellus turned and saw the little Amazon racing over the ridge in a cloud of red dust and his heart
missed a beat. He spurred on his own steed and raced towards her, pushing the animal as fast as it could go. The two lovers jumped to the ground and ran into each other’s arms while the desert wind whirled around them, intermingling their hair and their cloaks as if they were a single creature.
‘Do you know what awaits you, Princess?’ Metellus whispered into her ear. ‘Sorrow, hardship, mortal danger. Think, while you still have time.’
Yun Shan stepped away and touched his chest with the tip of her index finger. ‘Half of my life’s energy is here, have you forgotten? If we separate, the other half will be extinguished. Is that what you want? Take me with you, Xiong Ying, if you love me.’
Metellus held her close in a long embrace, then they leapt on to their horses.
Dan Qing was still visible in the distance. He had reared up his horse and raised his hand in a final farewell.
FOR MONTHS and months they journeyed in the blazing sun and the blinding snow, along winding rivers, across desolate steppes, around the shores of huge salt lakes surrounded by dazzling white wastelands, until the moment came to separate from Daruma. His caravan would turn left towards the pass that Alexander had crossed five centuries before to invade India.
‘I prefer to entrust you to guides I know I can rely on rather than put you on a ship full of unknown sons of bitches ready to sell you off at the nearest market on the pirates’ coast. But I’ll send news of your return with the first ship leaving for the West, and I’ll see to it that it’s delivered. I have correspondents as far as Alexandria and Antioch who will be glad to do me a favour.’ He put his hands on Metellus’s shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. ‘You have saved a great kingdom, but above all you have delivered a man from the corruption that threatened to overcome him. You gave him the gift of self-respect and a sense of virtue. Once I told you that you seemed like one of those Romans who were inflexible, intrepid and even a little stupid.’
‘I remember as if it were now,’ said Metellus, smiling.
‘Well, I was wrong. May your gods protect you, Commander Aquila.’