Empire of Dragons (50 page)

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 was 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.’

O
UT 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.

F
ROM 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.

F
OR 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.’

‘And may they protect you as well, Daruma, my friend. I’ll think of you whenever I hear the rustling of a silken gown.’

Daruma embraced him and kissed both of his cheeks, then departed.

Metellus and Yun Shan sat straight-backed on the saddles of their horses, watching as the caravan wound its way up the snaking path that rose towards the pass, against the majestic backdrop of the immaculate peaks of the Paropamisus, until it had vanished between the colossal wrinkles of that titanic land.

T
HE NEXT LEG
of their journey brought them to Aus Daiwa, three months later. Metellus managed to pitch their tents close to the camp in a visible position, in order not to arouse suspicion or curiosity, so that they’d look just like any caravan of merchants heading west to the oasis of Khaboras.

On the second day, he saw a small group of Persian soldiers approaching at a couple of dozen paces. He lifted a hand to greet them and even sent a servant to offer them something to drink. They thanked him with a wave of their own and rode off at a gallop back towards the camp, where they would report on the small caravan of an innocuous merchant.

That night, Metellus told Yun Shan of everything he had suffered in that camp. He felt exhilarated at the thought that he was free, and at such a short distance from people who would do anything to sink their claws into him. They lingered for a few days until he was sure that no one was keeping an eye on him any longer, and then he went to the spot, marked with a stone, where he had hidden Valerian’s ashes. He easily dug out the clay jar buried under a few spans of sand and hid it among the implements he was carrying with him. All of the emotion of their break-out rushed back into his mind, along with the hopes that he and his comrades had shared of all returning together.

He was returning with nothing more than a handful of ashes, but he had kept one promise, and this made him hopeful that he could keep the others as well. Every time he looked at Yun Shan, he knew that he already had with him an invaluable treasure.

T
HEY REACHED
Nisibi in Upper Syria six months later, burnt by the sun, their lips cracked and skin parched by the interminable desert, but Metellus’s eyes glowed with a magical light that seemed to come straight from his soul.

‘This is my land, Yun Shan,’ he said. ‘This is the land of Rome that you call Taqin Guo.’

‘I am happy for you, Xiong Ying. Your homeland will never disappoint you. It can never disappear like the constructions of men. What will you do if your country no longer exists?’

‘We’ll know soon. Tomorrow, when we reach the gates of my city, where the headquarters of the Eastern army are located.’

‘And what if you find foreigners there or, worse, enemies?’

‘I’ll think about it when it happens. Each day has its worry.’

They dismissed the guides and continued alone until evening fell and then for all the next day until, towards dusk, they came within sight of Edessa.

Metellus stopped to contemplate the massive line of walls and splendid towers and he turned his thoughts to Clelia, his gentle wife, who perhaps rested in the shade of those walls. Then he spurred his mount in the direction of the big stone entrance arch which bore an inscription by Trajan, in the hopes that the garrison’s guardhouse would still be there.

Two legionaries crossed their spears to deny his entry.

‘
Consiste!
’ ordered the youngest, warning the stranger to stop.

Metellus realized what a lowly impression they made: his clothing was dusty, a turban covered his head and swathed his face, leaving only his eyes visible. An impression no doubt compounded by the mysterious air of his companion. He got off his horse, bared his face and approached the men on foot, speaking Latin for the first time in a very long time: ‘Who has the authority over these lands, soldier?’