Empire of Dragons (38 page)

‘So it was you who wanted to kill me,’ said Wei as if he hadn’t heard her words.

‘I wanted to free my brother.’

‘Your brother has made you miserable and has driven me to despair,’ he said, moving in a circle around her. ‘He must suffer a wound that nothing can heal, on his own flesh. He must be made to suffer all that a man can suffer.’

‘That will not restore anything you have lost.’

Wei did not stop Yun Shan from pulling Tip of Ice from the ground. His own sword was pointed downward as were his eyes, while he continued to walk round Yun Shan, who wheeled to face him.

Yun Shan stepped away from the centre of that imaginary circle, narrowing the space between them. She thrust out her sword towards her adversary’s neck. ‘You killed my master, Wangzi. And I will avenge him.’

‘He wasn’t your master. He was your brother’s master. And I hold him responsible as well. Bad teachers must pay for the bad pupils they have spread through the world to cause the unhappiness of others.’

Tip of Ice was very close now to Wei’s neck, a neck as white and pure as that of a maiden.

Wei raised his bowed head then and showed his tears. They fell freely from impassive eyes on to perfect cheeks. ‘Only from you could I accept death. Only from you could I have peace, for I could not have love. Strike now, Yun Shan. You will never have another chance.’

Yun Shan delivered her blow, straight and true, but Tip of Ice glanced off Wei’s forehead and withdrew, leaving a drop of vermilion there where the steel had penetrated his flesh, a bead as small as a drop of dew. The sword then vanished into its sheath.

‘Consider this my last act of compassion towards you,’ she said. ‘You have chosen a road that leads to an abyss, a road that only the evil can follow. Free my brother and I will forget what you have done. Free my brother and the men in his escort. Retire to a monastery and no one will ever hurt you again. I give you my word.’

Wei drew close until his face was just a breath away. His eyes glittering with tears touched her heart but his voice was icy and cutting as he said, ‘I will annihilate this cursed house that the Heavens have repudiated and I will found a new one. But if I should fail, I will go towards my final destiny without regret.’ His voice seemed to break as he added, ‘I am accompanied by a memory, Yun Shan, the memory of a feeling that not even the cruellest blade could cut from my flesh. Farewell, forever.’

He sheathed his sword and made an incredible leap on to his horse’s back, landing lightly on the saddle. He spurred his mount off in the direction of the countryside and soon disappeared from sight.

Yun Shan’s gaze followed him for a while, then she crumbled to the ground in tears.

T
HE HORSEMAN
entered at a gallop from the main entrance of the imperial palace between the two rows of guards posted on watch until dawn and continued at full tilt all the way to the base of the majestic staircase that led to the main pavilion. He left his horse then to the care of the grooms, who had promptly rushed up, and bounded up the stairs to the atrium, which was illuminated by six large lit braziers in monumental bronze tripods.

An elderly palace official came to greet him with deferential solicitude. ‘Noble Lord.’

‘What happened today is unheard of. I was attacked in my own city. I risked death at the hands of the Red Lotus!’

The old man bowed, confused. ‘I’m aware of what happened, honourable Wei, and we are doing everything possible to . . .’

‘I don’t want everything possible,’ shouted Wei. ‘I want those men destroyed! Where are your spies? What are your informers doing? My life is in danger between the walls of my own palace!’

‘The Red Lotus enjoys the complicity of a great number of people, My Lord, many of whom profess fidelity towards the imperial house. It is nonetheless fortunate that you have managed to capture Prince Dan Qing.’

‘Fortune has nothing to do with it. I’ve captured him thanks to my ability, and thanks to the fact that I saw to matters myself,’ retorted the eunuch. ‘I am surrounded by bunglers and imbeciles. I can trust no one but myself !’

The old official continued speaking as if he had not heard this outburst. ‘The emperor is dead, although no one has been told, and his son is your prisoner. You have only one remaining goal to attain: winning over the people and, with them, the favour of the Heavens.’

‘What do you mean to say?’ asked Wei, suddenly calm.

‘You must convince the people that you are an instrument of the Heavens, sent to punish an unworthy dynasty. At that point there will be no limits to your power. Perhaps you will even succeed in reuniting the three kingdoms, and unifying our entire country behind a single border, as is right and just.’

‘And found a dynasty that will die with me . . .’ Wei observed sarcastically.

‘That’s not so. A lineage can be created. Don’t you realize how often empresses who had no children of their own deceived their husbands by presenting them with the son of a slave? If sterile mothers can beget heirs, why can’t the same be true for a father? Believe me, Powerful Lord, what you have to do now is to win the public favour.’

‘How can I do that? They do not love me. That much is certain.’

The silence of the night was so deep that the soft sputtering of the oil lamps could be made out, and the light, intermittent breath of the northern wind. For a moment, footsteps could be heard crossing the outer courtyard, then nothing.

The old man seemed to have finally found a suitable answer. ‘Because they have built up an image of you that does not correspond to the truth.’

‘In the sense that I’m much worse than what they can imagine. And there’s no doubt about that either. But tell me what you have in mind.’

‘It will soon be time for New Year celebrations. For many years now, due to the turbulence that has saddened our people, the festivities that they were accustomed to no longer take place.’

‘Festivals, lights, dragons of coloured paper that puff smoke from their nostrils . . .’

‘And combat between prisoners.’

‘Don’t tease me with your riddles. Get to the point.’

‘They say that those barbarians you captured along with the prince are formidable fighters. Is it true that they come from Taqin Guo?’

‘It seems so. And their looks confirm it.’

‘I have consulted the secret texts saved from the fire of the Great Library of Luoyang. It seems that in their country they practise a rather barbaric but interesting custom. They say it is their most eagerly followed spectacle. Prisoners, or professional warriors, do battle before the public in large constructions with tiered seating.’ He stopped a moment, for emphasis. ‘Have them fight in the great courtyard of the palace, at the foot of the staircase, and open the courtyard to the people.’

Wei seemed to fade away for a moment, his gaze lost behind distant visions.

‘Doesn’t that seem like a good idea?’

‘Yes, perhaps. There’s a group of fierce, savage Xiong Nu, recently captured near the Great Wall, who could serve as their adversaries.’

‘With all respect, Powerful Lord, I believe that the battle would be even more spectacular if their adversaries were much more fearsome.’

‘Aren’t the Xiong Nu fearsome enough? Who are you thinking of? Who else is worthy of facing the barbarians from Taqin Guo?’

The old man frowned and lowered his eyes before saying, ‘The Flying Foxes.’

‘You know very well that that’s not possible,’ replied Wei after a moment’s hesitation.

‘Why not, Powerful Lord? What prohibits it?’

‘The common sense that one should have at your age. The Flying Foxes are, and must remain, without faces and without bodies, in order to inspire as much terror as possible. Showing them in public combat in the light of day would make them seem like flesh-and-blood human beings. Therefore vulnerable.’

‘I understand your point of view, and I appreciate your great wisdom, but seeing them in action against the most fearsome warriors of the West would make everyone realize that it is impossible to oppose such a force.’

‘The spectacle would be for the men of the Red Lotus, you’re saying.’

‘I’m certain that a great number of them will be present in the crowd.’

Wei began to pace backwards and forwards down the huge atrium, his figure standing out as he passed before the spectral light of the moon. ‘And you think this would win me the people’s approval?’

‘Without a doubt.’

Wei shook his head, perplexed.

The old man started speaking again: ‘The barbarians should be dressed in their armour and carry their own weapons to make the fight even more exciting. And you will promise them their freedom if they should win. Their fury will be boundless! There’s another reason why the Flying Foxes are their only worthy adversaries . . .’

‘Another reason? What?’

‘You may not know this, My Lord, but they are not the first to arrive in our land.’

‘What are you saying?’ asked Wei in surprise.

‘Have you ever heard of the three hundred Mercenary Devils?’

‘Of course. But it’s only a legend.’

‘It’s the truth. The three hundred Mercenary Devils truly existed. More than three centuries ago they appeared on our western frontier as if they’d come out of nowhere. They occupied a redoubt on the border and showed no signs of wanting to leave. The head of our garrison, a good man who was entirely loyal, attacked them with the forces he had available but they proved to be such fearless adversaries that they could not be driven back. The chronicles of the time report that they used a strange combat technique, with their shields raised above their heads, arranged like fish scales . . .’

‘What kind of story is this, old man?’ interrupted Wei. ‘It seems completely ridiculous to me. And how is it that I have never read of them in the texts that have survived the fire of the Great Library of Luoyang?’

‘Because those chronicles have been kept secret. Only those who have seen the inscription on the rock of Li Cheng know their story.’

‘Continue . . .’ said Wei, and the old man thought he could see a fleeting, mysterious weakness in his eyes. He motioned to a servant who stood at the end of the room like a statue. He disappeared and shortly thereafter came back with a steaming pot from which he poured a tawny infusion into two embossed golden cups.

The two men sat back on their heels and drank, and then the old man continued his story. ‘Emperor Yuandi learned of this episode and was greatly angered. He had the garrison commander’s head cut off and sent a younger man with fresh troops with a definitive order to crush the barbarians. But the second man failed as well. The enemies came out into the open field, dragging machines no one had ever seen before which launched darts of frightening proportions. They then sallied forth unexpectedly and attacked in a closed formation, putting our soldiers to flight.

‘This time, the astonished emperor asked just how many combatants there were and how many of our own would be required to wipe them out. He was told that five thousand men would surely be sufficient to crush those barbarians like disagreeable insects. But that was not to be. When the new contingent attacked they found themselves up against a fortification so innovative that all their efforts to take that modest dried-mud redoubt were foiled. The army became bogged down in the autumn rains, then froze in the chill of winter, while that trifling outpost – which had become a powerful fortress – gave no sign of intending to surrender . . . Must I continue, My Lord?’

‘Continue,’ replied Wei.

‘Our commander then decided on an all-out attack, weary of waiting for them to surrender because of hunger. He ordered his men to storm the walls, but even this endeavour ended in disaster. Trenches which had not existed opened under the attackers’ feet, walls of flame rose before them, boulders fell from the sky and lethal darts mowed down their ranks. When our forces finally managed to open a breach, they found a second wall of hewn stone before them. And side towers, from which more arrows rained down . . . The assault was transformed into a bloodbath.

‘The emperor realized that he had no choice but to unleash a vast offensive, but he didn’t feel he could destroy men who had defended themselves with such valour. Instead of sending a new army, he sent a teacher.’

‘A teacher?’

‘Yes, My Lord. A teacher of Chinese, who was welcomed and treated well by the barbarians, who proved to be much less barbaric than anyone had imagined. By the end of the winter, their leaders had learned our language well enough to be able to hold an elementary conversation. At that point, the teacher asked them a number of questions suggested by the emperor himself: who they were, where they came from, why they had stopped in that place and why they had fought so fiercely.

‘They replied that they came from a distant land which they considered the greatest empire on earth. An empire with over ten thousand cities, an empire that contained a sea even greater in size than itself, crossed by thousands of ships . . . All of the evidence pointed towards the fabled Taqin Guo.’

‘The same people, then . . .’ murmured Wei, as if talking to himself.

‘The same,’ confirmed the old man. ‘They said they had participated in a great battle against the Persians. They had fallen into an ambush and most of their comrades were slaughtered after strenuous resistance. Their unit alone succeeded in breaking through and making its way to safety. All roads were blocked except those that went east, so that was where they headed. They marched for a year until they reached our borders.

‘Upon hearing their story, the emperor asked them to enter his service as his personal guard. They accepted, and in the missions entrusted to them they showed such valour that they came to be considered invincible and nearly immortal. After many years in the emperor’s service, he discharged them and gave them lands to farm in a village called Li Cheng, where it is said that their descendants still live. The emperor decreed that only they were worthy of accompanying him for all eternity, when his time came.’

‘Why have you told me this story?’ asked Wei in the end.

‘Because those men became legendary, and they still are today. Only a legend can defeat another legend: the Flying Foxes against the warriors of Taqin Guo.’