Wayward Son (41 page)

“Yes, Majesty. And I am also saying that you must be cautious in your search, because success may be failure in disguise.”

Cain was surprised at himself. He had actually tendered to the emperor the most accurate account of his life that he had ever given to any human being. Why had he done so? Certainly he was trapped, and the alcohol had loosened his tongue. But Cain also felt a strange sympathy toward this unique individual. Here was a ruler of virtually unlimited means investing himself in an ultimately futile quest. Perhaps, if the emperor’s ambitions were redirected, the destiny of many people in this amazing civilization could be altered for the better.

Meanwhile, Qin Shihuangdi lay back in his cushioned seat, his head wobbling. His face was an unreadable mask.

Cain shuddered slightly, imagining the possible fates that now awaited him. With the horrors the emperor had just admitted to, an outcome far worse than death might well be waiting for him. Cain actually pondered the prospect of Qin Shihuangdi ordering that
he
be buried alive! And what if the emperor simply killed him on the spot—surely the terra-cotta soldiers would be no match for God’s sevenfold vengeance.

After several seconds that seemed like minutes, the emperor straightened and stared vacantly at Cain, his eyes twitching convulsively. Then, he burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Tears began streaming down his face as he tumbled to the floor in a cackling heap, eventually gasping for breath to the point of alarming Cain. At length, the emperor collected himself and rose to speak.

“I simply don’t believe you, Philo! If anyone would have found the secret of immortality by now, it would have been
me
. You are the most entertaining after-dinner storyteller I have ever met! For that reason, if for no other, I could never bring myself to move against you. For the rest of
your
immortality, you will always have a
golden passport
from His Imperial Highness Qin Shihuangdi. I earnestly request your presence at the wedding of my third son!”

Still laughing hilariously, His Majesty clapped his hands and a servant appeared. “Tell my secretary to inscribe passports for our distinguished visitor at once!” As the man bowed and departed, the emperor replenished their spirits and raised his goblet. “To eternal life!” he exclaimed.

***

The next morning, Cain did not expect to see the emperor, considering their late-night festivities and the ruler’s obviously precarious health. But neither did he expect to encounter Lijuan, who knocked softly on the door of the chamber Cain had been assigned in the Shaqiu palace.

“Another breakfast invitation?” Cain inquired, only half jokingly.

Something in her face, however, stifled Cain’s banter.

“The emperor is dead,” she whispered once he had closed the door behind her.

Cain paused. How much did this most favored of the emperor’s concubines know about what he had confessed to the supreme ruler only hours before?

“Were you with him when he died?”

“Yes, he sent for me two hours before sunrise. But almost as soon as I arrived at his chamber, he fell into a coma. I sat by his side until he stopped breathing.”

If she was telling the truth, Cain calculated that his secret was safe.

“What will happen now, Lijuan?”

“Li Si has already issued strict orders to conceal the death. He says a civil war could break out if people learn of it. But I think his command is for another reason. He wants Hu Hai to gain the succession, not the older son Fusu, as the emperor wished.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“You would have found out anyway. You are not foolish. But I have another reason.”

“Which is?”

The beautiful young woman looked down. “When emperors die, they…take their concubines with them,” she murmured, choking back a sob. “They will take his body back to Xi’an. Then Qin Shihuangdi and I will be reunited for eternity in the mausoleum.”

Cain felt a stab of pity. Although she had played a spy’s role, she probably had no choice. There was no doubt now that he had to slip away before Li Si’s attention fell on him. But there was no way he could take her along.

“To live, you must take risks,” he advised as he took her hand tenderly. “Disguise yourself as an old widow. Then find a way to disappear from the palace into the crowds of Shaqiu or a neighboring town. Try to make a new life for yourself out here in the East. It will be hard for them to find you.”

“But no man will want me ever again if I am old and wrinkled,” she protested tearfully.

“You can shed the disguise and move on again after a year or two,” he replied. “To live, you must also make sacrifices!” Lijuan bowed and quietly let herself out the door.

***

Cain had been planning his own escape for some time. His strategy also hinged on disguise. His first goal was to get back to Xi’an, where he had left the sizable rewards the emperor had bestowed on him for his mapmaking services. It was imperative, moreover, to detach himself as soon as possible from the treacherous Li Si. He could not be absolutely sure of Lijuan’s veracity, and in any case he had no desire to get caught up in a palace coup or a civil war.

So he decided to adapt the ploy he had used in Alexandria and become an elderly merchant. On the pretext that the necessary cosmetics were needed for an alchemical experiment, he had previously ordered their purchase in the main Shaqiu market. Since he was well known as the late emperor’s herbal advisor, no suspicions were aroused among the palace staff.

The next day, in his new disguise, Cain proceeded to exit the palace. As he skirted the perimeter of the main courtyard, he encountered a strange sight within. Li Si was shouting orders to a small contingent of guards, who were laying the First Emperor’s corpse on an ox cart. Then, in an apparent attempt to mask the stench of the body for the long trip to Xi’an, they loaded the cart with dead fish.

As he hurried outside to join a waiting merchant caravan, Cain muttered to himself, “Not quite the funeral procession the emperor would have envisioned.”

CHAPTER 54

Kashgar, Along the Silk Road, 210–50 BC

“YOU WILL ALL DIE before sunrise, unless someone tells me where I can find Kwok-se of Xi’an and Philo of Alexandria. These criminals are wanted for the assassination of our First Emperor. We know they are hiding in this area!” Yang thundered.

Burly, with a long mustache and fine armor, Yang was the leader of hundreds of armed men that streamed into the marketplace already bustling with Silk Road merchants. Atop a regal horse that bore Li Si’s coat of arms, Yang scanned the crowd, looking for anyone matching the description of the two fugitives. Every stall and booth was suddenly silent. He cued his men, who then tossed lumpy vegetable sacks into the center of the square. The bags burst open upon impact, and dozens of severed human heads rolled in all directions, their vacant eyes staring at the stunned onlookers. The spectators leaped back, shrieking in their native tongues.

The bounty hunters now had everyone’s full attention.

From his vantage point in the front row of frightened merchants, Cain witnessed the gruesome display. He noticed many of the severed heads were crawling with maggots, but some had likely been killed that very day.

Cain was still in disguise as an elderly merchant, despite fleeing Xi’an more than six months earlier. He was staying in Kashgar at a popular inn on China’s western border while he searched for his old friend Kwok-se. He was in the marketplace that afternoon buying Chinese herbs, spices, and other trade goods for the next leg of his journey. Kwok-se’s trail had gone cold months ago. Apparently Cain was not the only one looking for his friend.

Yang dismounted, drew his blade, and moved toward a startled Cain.

How had he recognized him?

Suddenly, Cain felt a cool burst of wind blasting through the marketplace from the distant mountain passes, bringing with it the first drops of an early spring rain. Looking up at the gathering storm clouds, the approaching leader seemed to have a second thought. He spun around on his heel and addressed the audience behind him.

“This is what happens to towns that harbor fugitives!” bellowed Yang as he dipped his Jian sword to the ground and lanced the eye socket of a severed head. He then held up a bulging bag of coins for all the people to see. “Our prime minister offers a reward of one hundred sovereigns for these two murderers. Or you can remain silent and join these tongues licking my boots.” He threw the purse into the air, and the gold coins spilled into the midst of the severed heads.

Hearing no response, the leader twisted around. As his calloused hand reached for Cain’s neck, a shadow flitted across his face and his fingers closed, at the last second, around an entirely different neck. He thrust the pleading Chinese vendor to his knees and prepared to strike. The wily soldier was about to offer the crowd a live demonstration to jog their memories.

His polished blade was poised to arc downward.

“These vagabonds,” interjected Cain in fluent Chinese. “What do they look like? I may have seen one.” He then caught the imperial tracker’s wrist on its backstroke. Cain had quick reflexes for an old man, hopefully not too quick.

Yang strained against Cain’s grip, utterly shocked by the meddlesome foreigner. The two locked eyes.

Yang’s men readied spears to slay the disrespectful bystander.

“Hold!” Yang ordered. Strangely, he found himself impressed by the old merchant’s courage.

Cain gradually relaxed his grip and feigned an innocent grin. It took only a split second, but why had he gotten involved? These men were ruthless. What did it matter to him if another old merchant was slain?

“On your knees, for now you take his place!” commanded the angered leader. With that, Cain was quickly pressed to the ground by other bounty hunters who had rushed forward.

He was at their mercy.

Fearing Yang would need to save face in front of his men, Cain prepared for the blow.

Meanwhile, several soldiers held up wanted posters made of the finest silk paper bearing the images of Cain and Kwok-se for the crowd to view. Obviously, Li Si had spared no expense for this mission. No doubt other supporters, friends and relatives of the First Emperor had already been rounded up as the prime minister consolidated his grip on power.

Cain glanced up and noticed the leader examining him in detail. Was his gray hair showing its dark roots? He regretted not wearing a hooded cloak. He could feel beads of perspiration mixed with rainwater dripping down his cheek—would it smudge his makeup and give him away? Seconds later, his hair was violently pulled upward. Cain yelped in pain as a clump of hair was ripped from his scalp.

Yang examined the silvery strands for a moment and then demanded, “Where did you see these fugitives?”

“I only saw one of them—this man,” Cain replied, pointing a shaky finger toward the illustration of Kwok-se. “It was on the southern branch of the Silk Road just a couple weeks ago. He was staying east of here, in Hotan. He was badly wounded, I would guess from a fall off his horse. Judging from his shattered leg and other injuries, there is no doubt he is still there recovering!” Cain sensed he’d spun a credible tale.

“You may survive yet, brave one,” Yang smirked as he motioned for his men to release the informer at his feet. Then in a blur, he thrust his weapon into the neck of the elderly man Cain had earlier saved. Yang held his stance for a few seconds before withdrawing his sword in a single motion.

“Not even a sound, old man!” he cruelly exclaimed while deftly wiping his crimson blade on the shoulder of his victim.

Cain gasped as his tunic absorbed the errant arterial spray.

“Let this be a warning to all who would lie about the whereabouts of these fugitives.” Yang stared downward at Cain as he delivered his proclamation. “We know that Philo of Alexandria aided a royal concubine to wear a wig and pose as an old woman to escape her glorious fate in Qin Shihuangdi’s tomb! But we found her anyway and buried her alive! Be on the lookout for these fugitives,” he barked, gesturing toward the posters being tacked to the nearby posts. “Young Philo of Alexandria will himself be disguised as an elderly man.”

A nervous buzz emanated from assembled traders as they heard Lijuan’s morbid obituary. Then, in hopes of collecting the prime minister’s generous bounty, a crowd gathered around the illustrations of Cain and Kwok-se.

The bounty hunters checked other elderly men in the crowd by pulling their hair, but finding no impostors or anyone resembling Philo, the imperial trackers swiftly departed for Hotan. Yang ordered a few men to stay behind in Kashgar and confine Cain to house arrest at his inn. He knew Yang would be back, and when he returned, Cain’s only reward for his “cooperation” would be a sword.

After a restless sleep during which he worried about the fate of his friend, Cain awakened. He had no intention of lingering in Kashgar as Yang’s prisoner, and something he’d seen that morning gave him an idea. Many of Yang’s men, it appeared, had also been victims of their leader’s brutality, and the guards here at the inn were no exception. Cain reckoned that the men, once outside of Yang’s purview, might lack the discipline of professional soldiers.

To his delight, loud snores greeted Cain’s ears as he tiptoed to his door, and he wasted no time. Slipping out his window in the dead of night, he stole a couple horses from a barn on the outskirts of town and rode swiftly to the west, swearing to remain far away from China until everyone living there was long dead.

While Yang may have possessed some expert trackers, Cain, of course, was a master fugitive. Plus, the previous morning’s cloudburst had fortunately grown into a steady downpour, promptly covering his tracks.

Once he was well clear of Kashgar, Cain isolated himself in mountainous terrain far off the Silk Road. Relying on skills he’d last employed thousands of years earlier, he would live off the land until the passage of generations cleansed his past. The imperative of survival now trumped any commercial ambitions or desires for companionship. Cain only wished he could have found and warned his friend Kwok-se. Hopefully, he had ventured nowhere near Hotan.