Authors: Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #General, #Historical, #Horror, #Vampires, #Transylvania (Romania), #Krakatoa (Indonesia), #Volcanic Eruptions
Dark of the Sun (26 page)
“Very good,” said Zangi-Ragozh, saying to the two young men, “Remember: lightly and gently.”
“Take him up,” ordered Gotsada, and took up his position at Baru Ksoka’s head. “We will not go any faster than a walk.”
The young men hefted the carrying pallet and got it balanced between them, then, at Gotsada’s nod, they set off toward the Kaigan’s large, round tent, Gotsada warning all those who approached to leave Baru Ksoka alone so that he could rest. As they moved through the camp, more and more of the Desert Cats followed them, at a respectful distance.
Zangi-Ragozh remained on the rear platform of the wagon, waiting for Ro-shei to return. As he listened to Dukkai’s chanting, he noticed that the pale-yellow snow had started falling once again.
Text of a letter from Hu Bi-Da to Jho Chieh-Jen, both in Yang-Chau, at the end of the Fortnight of the Frost Kings.
To my most esteemed colleague and fellow-employee of the distinguished foreigner Zangi-Ragozh, the most earnest and sincere greetings of Hu Bi-Da, the senior clerk of the Eclipse Trading Company, with the fervent wish that Jho Chien-Jen is faring better than we are here at the offices and warehouses of Zangi-Ragozh’s trading enterprise.
Alas, I must begin by reporting that we now have learned from four sources that the Bounteous Fortune, and all her cargo, are lost. The Bounteous Fortune had just left Sangasanga between the Sulu and Celebes Seas, bound for Marakan. Captain So was relieved that the ship had not been damaged by the huge waves and howling winds that had battered the region, saying it was unwise to go to sea with such omens. He ordered canvas shelters be put on deck to guard against the stinging, stinking rain that fell relentlessly and pledged to ride out the storm. But in those narrow waters, what is hardly noticed in the open sea becomes cause for upheaval. The two seas and the Macassar Strait combined the force and confines of the waters, making the waves higher, more irregular and disruptive, and at last, the Bounteous Fortune broke apart on the rocks of Borneo and sank in shallow water. All but three of the crew died of injuries or drowning, Captain So succumbing to infections in burns and similar eruptions on his skin, which no one would touch, fearing it would pass to them. Two of the three remaining succumbed to similar lesions; the lone survivor had improvised a turban Such as some wear in India and wrapped himself in broad leaves during the rain. He finally came upon a ship belonging to Kao Shai-Ming, who, in the spirit of Yang-Chau, brought the sailor, one Mong-Dja, back home. Now that winter is closing in again, I am very much afraid that no ships from Eclipse Trading will be able to set out again until at least the Fortnight of Flower Rains, and that is ten fortnights away—too long for ships to be idle if any business is to succeed.
It pains me to add more unfortunate news: the house of Dei-Na, our employer’s former concubine, was broken into and ransacked. Dei-Na herself, who has led an exemplary life, was treated with great violence and disrespect and has withdrawn to the house of her father, to tend to him now that his health is failing. She has taken as much of her goods, clothes, and food that can be salvaged. As you must have heard, there was a raid by hooligans in the riverfront area. Twenty-three people were killed and another forty-nine were injured, according to what the Prefecture has announced; I am of the opinion. the figure is higher, but I have no means to confirm this suspicion. In the raiding, six ships were set afire, and it was only due to Kuan-Yin that none of this company’s ships were lost, although the warehouse on Old Canal Street was a little damaged.
For these reasons, and because of the Gray Cough, I can only spare nine men. You may have to find the remaining six you seek from outside the city. I know that rebuilding the south wall of the compound is essential, and that there have been raids in your area as well as inside the city walls. I regret that we have reached such an impasse, but with the weakness of the sun, the tempestuous weather, the spreading and insidious Gray Cough, and general hunger, no one is free from; want, or capable of eliminating danger. You tell me your supplies are low, and you now know that mine are, as well. I wish I were in a position to do more, but I am not, just as you cannot spare anyone to fortify the docks and increase the guards on Zangi-Ragozh’s ships. I will beseech August Heaven to aid you, as our Captains must also be aided, at least until such time as our employer returns to make his desires and decisions known to us all.
This Year of Yellow Snow has brought many hardships, not only to the Middle Kingdom, but to many other lands. From the reports of the sea Captains, no port has been untouched by this dreadful cold, and the burning rain. It may be some time before any of us will be able to restore his fortunes, and it may be that, if worse comes, most of us will lose all. It has been reported by a number of trustworthy seamen that Sunda Kalapa has been all but leveled by waves and falls of ash that are higher than a tall mat in many places. Such desolation has been spared us, but it may still happen that we may endure greater calamities than have befallen us thus far. It troubles me that we cannot provide suitable offerings to our shrines nor spare more incense for the ancestors, but I also know that this is the Will of Heaven, and that when the worst has been reached, the change will come that, like the seasons, will restore us to better than what we had before, for all nature must ultimately be in balance.
May Kung Fu-Tzu’s principles guide you, and Lao-Tsu’s comprehension bring you comfort. May your family be spared suffering, and may all this soon be nothing but a terrible memory.
Hu Bi-Da
Senior Clerk, Eclipse Trading Company
(his chop)
Senior Clerk, Eclipse Trading Company
(his chop)
Outside the mud-brick walls of Turfan where during most winters a sea of Mongol, Uighur, Jou’an-Jou’an, Turkish, and Persian tents besieged the town with merchants and their goods, there were now only a few tents, and a cluster of improvised paddocks for the camels, mules, and ponies of the stalwart or desperate travelers who had arrived there before the snows came. Eight bodies hung on ropes from the city walls, their flesh blackened and becoming mummified in the dreadful cold. The ground was now thigh deep in yellow snow, and there was more coming from the wind-bludgeoned clouds above.
Baru Ksoka halted his clan not far from the entrance to the town. He had taken up the lead position in their numbers only the day before, and it was an effort for him to remain in the saddle. “Everyone hold!” he shouted, barely heard over the wind. “The gate of Turfan is ahead. I and Imgalas will ride to the gate, to secure a place for us, our herds, and flocks. We will try to get places for all of us inside the walls. Zangi-Ragozh, come with me. The officers of the town will want to know about you, since you are not Jou’an-Jou’an.”
From his place on the driving-box of his wagon, Zangi-Ragozh signaled with a wave to show he had heard. “We are going to the town gates, Dukkai,” he said. He stood up on the box and called back to Ro-shei, who rode immediately behind him, “We’re going to the gate.”
Dukkai was protected by the double-flap from the worst of the wind, and wrapped in bearskins over her winter clothing. “Then we will have a chance to rest and get warm, and for our animals to be fed and watered. I will chant for their strength and endurance; the gods have demanded much of us.” Her pregnancy was going better than it had, and she might have ridden with the other adult women, but she tired quickly, and Baru Ksoka had decreed that for the sake of his child, Dukkai would continue to ride in the wagon.
“So we hope to be restored. If all is well in Turfan.” Zangi-Ragozh kept his voice level.
“All well? Nothing is well, here or anywhere. Yet it may be that they will let us stay here and recruit ourselves for the next stage of our travel. At least we will not have to bed down in snowdrifts, as we have done the last four nights.” There was a brief, awkward pause, and she spoke more quietly, “I am sorry you won’t be going on with us. It was not a decision he made easily, asking you and your companion to leave us.”
Zangi-Ragozh gave a shrug she could not see. “Baru Ksoka is taking the northern route, and I am planning to keep to the middle, going through Karashahr to Aksu, which would part us in any case. Turfan is as far as I want to come into the mountains, especially in this winter—I might as well be in the distant northern forests.” He knew she wanted something less final, so he added, “We may meet again in Kashgar, if you take the Amber Trail, in Tashkent, or Tok-Kala. I will ask for you and the Desert Cats wherever I go, all the way to Constantine’s City, if I push on so far.”
“That is a greater journey than any I have traveled. Do you want to go there?”
“I am bound for my native earth, which is some distance from Constantine’s City,” said Zangi-Ragozh.
“In the Carpa-Ti Mountains, I recall you said,” she remarked. “Baru Ksoka said we may reach Kashgar on the Amber Trail, if we find no good pasturage in Dzungaria. The last one of our Kaigans to lead us to Kashgar was Baru Ksoka’s great-great-great-uncle. It is a very long way to Kashgar, I think.” She was improved from a fortnight ago, but she still had much discomfort, and she had to shift position frequently or risk more aches and cramps; the furs whispered as she adjusted her position behind the driving-box. “I hope it isn’t too rigorous, making our way there.”
“It may prove more demanding than is usually the case,” he said carefully. “Consider how difficult it has been to get to Turfan.”
“Surely it will not be so harsh in the West,” she said, repeating what the Desert Cats had been saying for three fortnights.
“I hope it is not. But it may be that the desolation is spreading.” Zangi-Ragozh waited for her to respond.
She was silent for a long moment, then said, “If you think this is not a wise thing to go so far, then tell the Kaigan.”
“I have,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “When he informed me he had decided—much as it embarrassed him—that it would be best if Ro-shei and I left your clan.”
“But you saved him. His wounds are healing almost without fever because of you.” She was deeply indignant. “How can he serve you such a turn when you have spared him suffering and restored his health? and saved his child within me, for that matter?”
“I think he is worried for the clan, which is what a Kaigan must be; I cannot argue with his decision, for it is what I would have done, I suspect, had our situations been reversed,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “Many of the Desert Cats see my companion and me as interlopers.”
“Not interlopers,” said Dukkai firmly.
“Not to you, perhaps, but to most of the Desert Cats: Ro-shei and I are barely tolerated, and that will not change for the better.” He softened his voice still more. “If the winter is as hard as the rest of the year has been, resentment toward our presence will only increase.”
She sighed. “I know you’re right, for I can feel it as if it were a sandstorm building, just beyond the limits of sight, and I understand that Baru Ksoka did not decide the issue without much reflection, but I am still abashed that you should be made to—” She stopped as a wooden horn sounded and the gates of Turfan began to open.
“I think we had best move up now,” said Zangi-Ragozh, and twitched the reins to put the pair of ponies moving. “It seems that Baru Ksoka wants me to present myself.”
“You mean he wants you to translate for him, if you can,” said Dukkai, sounding disgusted. “In case the men of Turfan no longer know the Silk Road coign.”
“Then that will be what I shall do, although he will probably have little use for me. Turfan is more a caravan camp with walls than a real town,” said Zangi-Ragozh, taking care not to force any of the clan’s carts and wagons aside as he threaded his way toward the head of the line; the snowy road made the way difficult, and it took all Zangi-Ragozh’s skill to keep the ponies from floundering in the roadside ditch that lay hidden beyond the uneven furrows left in the snow. At last he drew up behind Baru Ksoka and Imgalas.
Two dozen armed men in bearskin cloaks stood in the mouth of the gate, their spears and bows at the ready; they shouted in ragged unision, “Halt, you Jou’an-Jou’an!” They spoke in the Mogol-Hunnic-Turkic patois of eastern Silk Road merchants. “You may not enter!”
Baru Ksoka stopped his pony and signaled to the rest to slow, as well. “Tell me,” he said quietly to Imgalas, “do you suppose they mean to kill us?”
“I think they fear we will kill
them
,” said Imgalas, deliberately raising his voice enough to carry to the contingent of guards.
them
,” said Imgalas, deliberately raising his voice enough to carry to the contingent of guards.
“Well. we have no such intention,” said Baru Ksoka, and addressed the men barring their way. “I am Baru Ksoka of the Desert Cats clan of Jou’an-Jou’an. We have wolf-pelts and goats to trade, and a few strings of Chinese copper cash to pay for shelter and food.”
One of the guards stepped forward. “You will have to surrender your weapons, and you must pay us in gold.”
“We need our knives, but if you must have our lances and arrows, you may hold them. We would rather keep our bows. Without arrows, what harm is there in letting us have them?” He studied the guards. “Can we not trade the pelts instead of giving you gold? Gold cannot warm you.”
“You are right as far as it goes,” said the guard. “But we must think of better days to come, and for that, we must have gold.”
“Then,” said Baru Ksoka, “we are at an impasse. We do not trade in gold, but in furs and goats and copper cash.” He rubbed unthinkingly at his forearm; his half-healed wound was aching from the cold. “If you cannot accept what we have, then I fear we will have to camp outside the walls.”
“There is a Uighur caravan outside. Talk to them about your pelts,” the chief guardsman recommended.
“We saw them, and the Persians,” said Baru Ksoka.
“One of the Persians died yesterday—they found him frozen.” The guard laughed harshly.
“I wish you would reconsider. We have children with us, and women with child.”
“Then guard them well and ask your gods to bring back the sun,” said the guard, stepping back, and motioning to his companions to move as well.
Zangi-Ragozh, who had been watching this with a growing sense of the inevitable, called out, “I have a little gold with me.”
Baru Ksoka swung around in his saddle and stared at Zangi-Ragozh. “It is unnecessary for you to—”
“If Dukkai is to deliver a healthy baby, it is,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “I am in a position to help her, and you.”
“If you do it, it can change nothing,” Baru Ksoka warned.
“I realize that,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “My companion and I are going on to Aksu and Kashgar, and you are taking the northern route. It is for Dukkai that I do this, so she and her babe will be able to endure the deepening winter.” He set the simple brake before sliding back into the wagon and searching for the small strongbox in which he carried as much money as he wanted others to know he had. He opened the lock and drew out three gold bars, saying to Dukkai as he did, “I hope this will give us a little respite from the demands of travel.” The gold shone against the heavy black leather of his gloves.
“You do not have to do this,” said Dukkai.
“But I think I do,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “This may be the last opportunity I have to—” He stopped as he closed the strongbox and set the lock again.
She nodded, color mounting in her face. “I know.”
He held up his hand. “Let me give this to Baru Ksoka.” He held up the gold as he stepped back into the driving-box. “Ro-shei!” he called. “Will you take this to the Kaigan?”
Ro-shei came up beside the wagon on a red pony and held out his gloved hands. “I will do as you ask,” he said.
Handing Ro-shei the gold, Zangi-Ragozh said softly in Imperial Latin, “Have a care—those guards are not in good form, and they are seeking an excuse to attack.”
“I think so, too,” said Ro-shei, and carried the gold to Baru Ksoka. “My master gives you this for the benefit of your clan.”
This generosity was shocking, and the Kaigan hesitated to take the three bars. “This will not be forgotten.” He coughed and spoke to the guards again. “Very well. I have two bars of gold. That should secure us lodging and food for four or five days, and shelter and fodder for our animals.”
“Two bars of gold is not enough,” said the guard, recovering himself enough to bluster. “We must have more.”
“Then three strings of copper cash into the bargain,” said Baru Ksoka. “It is a handsome sum—twice what you would require in better years.”
“But as you say, this is a bad year,” said the chief guard, then spat. “Still, two bars of gold and three strings of copper cash should suffice.” He gestured with his spear. “Go down this street and you will come to three inns. Choose whichever one you like, and pay the landlord in advance. You will be able to stay for four days. If you must remain longer, whatever the cause, we will require more gold. Give me your payment as you enter.” The passage the guards formed was hardly wide enough to let two horses abreast pass, as if the guards were unwilling to give any leeway to the Desert Cats. “Give your spears and arrows to Nuchcusal there. He is our warden.”
Nuchcusal, a brawny man in a vast bearskin cloak, stepped out to block Baru Ksoka’s progress. “I will hold these in the gatehouse. You may claim them again when you leave.”
“We each have our marks on our spears and arrows,” Baru Ksoka declared as he surreptitiously slipped the third bar of gold into the interior sleeve of his tiger-skin mababa. “If you try to substitute any other, we will know.” He handed down his quiver and his spear. “There. See you keep them safe.”
The leader of the guard came up to him. “Two bars of gold and three strings of copper cash.” He held out his hand, all swathed in shaggy, tahr-skinned gauntlets. “Give them to me.”
Baru Ksoka handed over the two gold bars, then made a great display of taking the strings of cash from his saddle-bags and presenting them to the leader of the guards.
“This will do,” the leader announced. “Let them pass.” He permitted the Desert Cats to pass into the town, but the guards followed them as they went down the street where they had been told to go.
Ro-shei brought his pony alongside the wagon. “Those guards are a suspicious lot.” He spoke in Latin again.
“Who can blame them?” Zangi-Ragozh asked. “Think what they have seen in the last year.”
“I think of those bodies hanging over the walls.” He waited a moment, then went on, “It won’t take much to turn the guards into marauders.”
“You are remembering Paulinos Oxatres,” said Zangi-Ragozh, recalling the Byzantine commander with distaste. “His men were already trained soldiers, not like these guards. They were used to killing. I doubt such is the case with these men, at least not yet.”
“They would be more than willing to learn, by the look of them. I will remain awake tonight, and on alert.” Ro-shei allowed the wagon to move ahead.
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