Dark of the Sun (Saint-Germain #17)

Dark of the Sun (Saint-Germain #17) Page 8

Zangi-Ragozh emerged from the hold of the barge pale and shaken. He shivered in the predawn mist, his sen-gai hardly enough to keep out the gnawing cold that hunger had engendered in him during his long stupor aboard the barge. There was stubble on his chin from his lengthy isolation, and his hair had grown, not as much as that of living men, but enough to be untidy, the dark waves hanging in short curls around his head. Beside him, Ro-shei waited patiently while the bargemen, lanterns in hand, guided their four horses and small wagon along the broad, heavy plank to the shore.

"There was snow last night," said Ro-shei to Zangi-Ragozh as if this were nothing remarkable. "Not much, but still ..."

"We've been a month on this river," Zangi-Ragozh said, shuddering in spite of himself. "With only three layovers, none of them more than two days." His Chinese sounded more foreign than usual. Zangi-Ragozh nodded slowly. "It must be mid-May in Europe at least, and here it looks like February."

"The Fortnight of Those Born in the South is ending. The Festival of Yo-Wang is over," said Ro-shei.

"The God of Medicine," said Zangi-Ragozh. "I hope Jong celebrated it." He looked out over the fog-wrapped river. "I hope he is alive to celebrate it."

"May all of them live-the men and the horses." Ro-shei adjusted the hat he wore. "Come. They're signaling from the dock."

"I seem a bit flimsy," Zangi-Ragozh said, taking an uncertain step.

"A month on running water almost constantly, small wonder," said Ro-shei, offering an arm for Zangi-Ragozh to lean upon. "You'll be better for a bath and a shave and a trimming."

"I must get off the barge and into the town, or an inn at least, before I can avail myself of any of those," he said a bit sardonically.

"For that I can assist you," Ro-shei pointed out.

"Thank you, old friend, but I had better walk on my own. I'll recover sooner if I do." He steadied himself and stepped onto the broad plank that gave access to the dock. Behind the barge on which they had been traveling, the river junk that had been shoving the barge upriver lay still, oars banked and battened sails reefed, looking as insubstantial as a dream in the tarnished, misty light; four men on deck watched while Zangi-Ragozh and Ro-shei went ashore.

"We leave at this hour tomorrow," said the barge-master. "If you change your mind about going on, be here by sunset and we'll take you aboard again. The river turns westward in a day's journey, and that will lead you to Wu-Wei."

"In another month or so, if all goes well," said Zangi-Ragozh, moving a bit more securely.

"Holin-Gol is only two li ahead," said Ro-shei, handing the barge-master a silver bar as thanks for his service. "My master and I would prefer to spend a little time on dry land before arriving there."

The barge-master snorted a laugh. "Not much of a riverman, is he, your employer? Strange, for a merchant not to like travel by water."

"But so it is," said Ro-shei.

"Then be careful. There's a small canal up ahead, and the towpath is a drop from the road." The barge-master chuckled. "If your master can stand to go over the canal."

"I believe he can endure it," said Ro-shei.

"Sleeping in your wagon as if dead, and for days on end," said the barge-master. "Foreigners!"

"We're most perplexing," said Ro-shei agreeably as Zangi-Ragozh checked the harness that secured the cinder-brown gelding and the white-legged sorrel mare to the wagon; Flying Cloud and Ro-shei's spotted mare were saddled and ready to ride.

"I'll drive the wagon," Zangi-Ragozh decided aloud. "Tie Flying Cloud's reins to the rear of the wagon. I'd rather lead him than the wagon."

"As you wish, my master," said Ro-shei, and moved to do it.

The barge-master went back aboard his craft and drew up the loading plank, then signaled to the men on the junk. "We're secure. If you want to go ashore, you may do so now. Just remember to be here by sundown, for I want to be under way at first light and we must secure the barge."

"We will remember, but we will not be here," said Zangi-Ragozh as he climbed up onto the driving-box of the wagon; his gloved hands shook as he picked up the reins.

The barge-master chuckled and waved, showing his disbelief in the casualness of his gesture.

Zangi-Ragozh swung his pair away from the river, the wheels of the wagon rumbling like thunder along the dock. He lifted his head and sniffed the morning. "Something is not right."

"That smell from the snow," said Ro-shei, speaking Imperial Latin as Zangi-Ragozh had done. "The yellow makes it stink."

Zangi-Ragozh looked about as they approached the riverfront road that ran just above the path used by the dray-oxen of short-haul barges. "Not much travel, judging by the state of the road. At this time of year, there should be signs of active trade, but there are only these old ruts."

"True enough," said Ro-shei, bringing his spotted mare up just ahead of the wagon.

"Now travel is inconvenient. Later it may be much worse." Zangi-Ragozh adjusted the reins as he steered the pair onto the road, going northward beside the river; the fog brightened, creating a dim glare as sunrise grew near. "The canal is not far ahead, I must assume."

"And the towpath is a drop. I have no idea how much of one," said Ro-shei.

"The river is running very high; I must suppose the canal is, as well," said Zangi-Ragozh.

"Do you think there will be flooding?" Ro-shei wondered.

"In such a year as this, who can tell?" Zangi-Ragozh said. "It is as if the whole world is afflicted." He said nothing more, as if such an admission was more than he had wanted to concede.

"There have been more dead birds in the river," Ro-shei reported after they had covered a short distance. "The most recent was yesterday afternoon. A wind came up, and hundreds of small, white-breasted brown birds dropped from the sky." He took a deep breath. "There was also a hawk among them."

"Was this the only time birds fell?" Zangi-Ragozh asked.

"No; there were four others that I know of; the boatmen said there have been more flocks of dead birds floating on the river."

"In large quantities, or fairly small?" Zangi-Ragozh asked, a frown settling between his fine brows.

"Quite large ones. Most of the ones I have seen looked to have died on the wing." Ro-shei considered this a long moment, then added, "Some had feathers with yellow dust on them."

"Poor creatures," said Zangi-Ragozh with feeling. "And you say these deaths are increasing." He looked down as the wheels crunched on ice standing in the slicks on the road. "The canal is just ahead."

"Is there a bridge, do you think, or must we ferry across?" Ro-shei sounded exasperated.

"There is a bridge," said Zangi-Ragozh as he peered into the mists, his dark-seeing eyes making out the shape of it. "Two wagons wide, and raised in the middle."

"And the drop to the towpath?" Ro-shei's mare was sidling, reluctant to step onto the towpath.

"Not too much, I think," said Zangi-Ragozh as he did his best to judge the angle of the dip in the road ahead. "Our wheels should be safe."

"And the axle?" Ro-shei asked. "Do you want me to get down and guide us over?"

"I doubt that will be necessary," said Zangi-Ragozh as he pulled his team to a slow walk and carefully took them over the bridge. As he crossed the canal, he noticed the bodies of five dead cranes caught against the bridge supports. "You say the birds are continuing to die?"

"They seem to be" was Ro-shei's careful answer, his attention on completing their crossing.

"Ah," Zangi-Ragozh responded, to show he had heard.

A short distance along the road they came upon a track leading in from the narrow fields; there was a make-shift gibbet erected there, and a four-day-old corpse dangled from a butcher's iron hook. A crudely lettered sign around the dead man's neck identified him as a stealer of food; only the chill kept the body from reeking. The horses minced past the grisly thing, sweating in spite of the cold.

"There will be more of this," said Zangi-Ragozh. "And for less."

Ro-shei looked at the corpse. "Should we cut him down, do you think?"

"No. It would not benefit him, and it could cause trouble." Zangi-Ragozh shook his head. "Poor man. You can see how thin he was before this happened."

"So you think he must have been starving."

"He certainly looks it," said Zangi-Ragozh. "Being within a short distance of the town, and with so many loading docks along the bank here, someone must have reported this." Zangi-Ragozh squinted at where the eastern horizon should be. "The fog is thickening. We do not want to be surprised by anyone."

"No, we do not," Ro-shei agreed, and stopped talking as they continued on toward the walls of the town, hidden in the deepening mists ahead.

There were a few birdcalls and splashes, and the sound of a heavy cart in the distance, and then a faint jingle of tack, which brought the two up short. "How many?" Zangi-Ragozh asked, reaching into the well of the driver's box for the sword that lay there.

"It could be three," said Ro-shei cautiously in Latin.

"Three is acceptable," said Zangi-Ragozh in the same language, and rose, still holding the reins of the team, but ready to take on any attackers; by now the mists were shiny with new sunlight, almost blinding in their limmerence, and Zangi-Ragozh squinted into them, his whole attention on the faint squeak of leather and ching of brass.

Ro-shei pulled his sword from its sheath, getting ready to fend off the approaching horsemen. "Do I assume they've heard us by now?"

"It would be folly to think otherwise, since we have heard them," said Zangi-Ragozh, bracing himself on the wagon-frame, ready to fend off any attempt to take the wagon.

Ro-shei was about to speak when there was a loud cry to their immediate right and two men on horseback loomed out of the fog, both brandishing swords and apparently determined to frighten the foreigners into immediate submission. Ro-shei tugged his mare around to face the assault and swung his sword over his head, showing his readiness to fight, while Zangi-Ragozh held the wagon horses as steady as he could, for they were plunging with nervousness and took a short while to bring under control. "What do you dog's heads want?" Ro-shei roared in Chinese, showing no sign of fright.

A third horseman came in from behind, planning to steal Flying Cloud from the back of the wagon. He was brought up short as the wagon was pulled around to angle across the road and the driver swung out from the box and snicked his upper arm. With a fierce oath, the man stabbed futilely in the direction of the wagon, howling with determination and pain. He spurred his horse closer to the wagon and made a second attempt: this time the flat of the driver's sword struck him on the side of the head and he tumbled out of the saddle.

Ro-shei held his mare skillfully, making sure she did not begin to back up, for that might put them both in the river. He kept her nose close to her chest, then let her mince forward a few steps before signaling her to rear. As she did, he struck out with his sword and felt it strike bamboo armor.

"Give us your things and your horses and we won't kill you!" shouted one of the attackers in a local dialect that was almost incomprehensible.

"Why should we believe you?" Ro-shei demanded, his mare back on all four feet and ready to stand her ground. He swung up his sword and made ready to fend off a second assault. The mare faltered and dropped onto her knees as her front legs buckled. Ro-shei kicked himself out of the saddle and looked to see what had happened: there were two thin lances buried in her side.

The nearer of the two lawbreakers suddenly reeled and collapsed back onto his horse's rump, sending the animal into an uneven, panicky canter. Zangi-Ragozh lowered his small crossbow so he could fit it with another quarrel.

Cursing loudly, the third highwayman bolted, his horse pounding away from the river in pursuit of his comrade. The sound of their retreat faded quickly.

Ro-shei began to unbuckle the saddle, saying in Latin as he did, "I hate this kind of slaughter. The mare meant him no harm." He paused to move aside. "This should be a clear shot."

"Yes," said Zangi-Ragozh, and sent a merciful quarrel into the center of her forehead.

Tugging the bridle headstall over the mare's ears as she gave a last kick, Ro-shei said to the horse, "Thank you for all you did for me." He patted her neck as he lifted the saddle and got to his feet.

"Would you like to saddle Flying Cloud?" Zangi-Ragozh offered.

"No. For now, I think it best to ride on the box with you." He used the heavy spoke of the front wheel as a step up into the wagon; he lay the saddle on its front end and draped the girth and the bridle over the cantle, then settled beside Zangi-Ragozh on the box. "Not a very auspicious beginning."

"No," Zangi-Ragozh agreed as he signaled the horses to jog.

"Do you think the other man will be back?" Ro-shei asked in order to put his mind on something other than his dead mare.

"I doubt it. I think the three of them constitute the entire company, and with Holin-Gol so near, he would be a fool to attempt another attack alone. If we were in the forest or in the dry wastes where one man could create an ambush, then there might be trouble." He pointed. "The town is less than half a li ahead of us, and we will be within the gates shortly."

"I suppose we would do well to report the incident," Ro-shei said.

"We have no reason not to do so." Zangi-Ragozh squinted into the bright smudge of sunlight in the thinning mists. "The sun lacks power."

"With so much fog, it is hardly surprising," said Ro-shei, not fully paying attention.

"No, that is not what I mean: even without the fog, the sun is not as potent as I would expect it to be in late spring. It is vitiated, as if its light gave no heat. It might as well be hidden behind heavy clouds for all the vigor it provides the land." Zangi-Ragozh stared thoughtfully at the dark mass of the walled town that loomed ahead in the mist, then turned his head to count the docks and wharves that lined the riverbank with increasing frequency. "I wonder if there have been robberies here, or thefts from the boats and barges?"

"Do you suppose the local Magistrate would let it be known if there were?" Ro-shei laughed harshly.

"He might, if the problem were severe enough," said Zangi-Ragozh, and slowed the horses to a walk.

Ro-shei clapped his hands together. "That would mean the region would be almost in open rebellion."

"That may yet come," said Zangi-Ragozh.

"Most of the barbarous tribes go westward, not to the south," said Ro-shei.

"Because the Great Wall keeps them out," said Zangi-Ragozh. "But here in Holin-Gol there is a break in the wall, as there is at Wu-Wei. Such places could become centers for rebellion if the northern horsemen ever got through the Great Wall."

"Holin-Gol and Wu-Wei are both on the southern side of the Great Wall, and the gates they possess are fortified," Ro-shei reminded him. "There are garrisons of soldiers in both towns, and their commanders have a great deal of autonomy in meeting threats."

"One day that could work to the Emperor's disadvantage," said Zangi-Ragozh, switching back to Chinese.

"Which Emperor?" Ro-shei asked in Latin.

"My point exactly," said Zangi-Ragozh, and prepared to face the customs agents and Guard waiting just inside the double gates of Holin-Gol.

The duties demanded to enter the town were high-more than they were for two wagons at Lo-Yang-and taken peremptorily. With a studied lack of respect, they were directed to the Travelers' Quarter of the town and given the names of four inns from which to choose lodging, then curtly advised to move on.

"There is one thing I think we should mention: we were attacked by three highwaymen as we approached the town, just at dawn," said Zangi-Ragozh as he handed over a silver bar and two strings of copper cash; if the slighting demeanor of the Guard and customs agent offended him, he hid it well enough.

The Guard officer sighed. "This morning, you mean?"

"Yes. This morning, on the main road beside the river. We left the barge on which we had traveled at the dock, and as we made for your gates, the three attempted to steal our horses and the wagon," Zangi-Ragozh said very patiently.

"What did they do?" The Guard seemed disinterested in the answer.

"They rode up on horseback, armed with swords and cudgels, and probably knives as well, but I did not specifically see any," said Zangi-Ragozh.

"How did you escape them?" The Guard signaled to a customs scribe, his curiosity belatedly awakened. "Take this down."

The scribe bustled over, his brush at the ready, his paper spread on a portable table, his stance obsequious. "As you wish, Captain Ruo."

Zangi-Ragozh recounted the morning incident, ending, "I cannot tell you if the two highwaymen were killed or only injured. I did not think it wise to linger."

"Wise enough," said Captain Ruo. "I will send out a party of soldiers to look for them later this morning. Pass on!"

"The markets are half-empty," Ro-shei observed as they approached the best of the four inns the Guard had recommended.

"This town should be busy at this time of year," Zangi-Ragozh added as he turned into the innyard of the Shifting Sands, noticing as he did that the stables were far from full.

"More bad weather come up from the south," Ro-shei suggested as Zangi-Ragozh drew his pair to a halt; he climbed down to take the leads of the team. "I'd expect a groom to be available to-" Before he could say anything more, a short, middle-aged man came out of the inn; he was shaped like a ginger-jar, with a powerful upper body tapering to small, out-turned feet. His features were set and broad, showing as much Mongol as Chinese lineage. "The landlord," Ro-shei guessed aloud.

"Innkeeper; my father-in-law is landlord," the man corrected. "Kittu is my family name. I welcome you to the Shifting Sands."

"I am Zangi-Ragozh, a foreign merchant, coming from Yang-Chau," he said as he got off his box.

"You have come a very long way," Kittu said, clapping his hands. "Hagai, Jinje, come here!" Then he bowed to Zangi-Ragozh. "I am sorry. Those laggards have been shirking their duties to gamble. Jinge! Come at once! Hagai!"

There was a flurry of activity on the far side of the stable, and then a pair of youths came rushing out into the innyard, one of them shoving a fistful of copper cash into his pocket. "Sorry, Kittu," said this lad. "Business has been so slow that-"

"All the more reason you should be ready to attend to our guests," Kittu exclaimed, and glared at the two.

"Hagai said that you wouldn't mind," Jinje complained.

"It sounds too slim an excuse to me, and one that is more wishful thinking than fact, as you will learn before you have your supper," said Kittu. "Get to work for these good merchants." He clapped his hands again and turned back to Zangi-Ragozh and Ro-shei. "I will offer you my best rooms-two on the main floor across from the dining room, each with a bed and a table, no sharing with other travelers. They cost a bit more, but-"

"That will be satisfactory," said Zangi-Ragozh, preparing to pull a string of silver cash from his sleeve.

"Is there anything else I might provide?" Kittu asked. "As an innkeeper, I wish my guests to be well-satisfied with their stay here." He augmented this last with a broad wink.

"A bath would be welcome," said Zangi-Ragozh as if wholly unaware of the larger implications of Kittu's offer. "I trust you have a bath-house? And someone who can wash some clothing?" He saw the innkeeper nodding in response to each question and smiled. "My traveling companion would like to find a market to buy a duck or a chicken for his meal. And if there is an establishment where you recommend the women ..." He left the last unsaid.

"We have a bath-house which can be heated for your use. As to the fowl, there is a market two streets away where the farmers bring their wares for sale. If there are ducks or chickens to be had just now, you may find them there. If you will bring the bird to the kitchen, the cook will prepare it in any manner you like." Kittu rubbed his hands together as if eager to tend to the meal himself.

"I regret that the practice among my people requires us to take our meals in private," said Ro-shei, interrupting Kittu with a deferential nod. "We have certain rites that must be-"

Kittu held up his hands. "Say no more. All foreigners have their ways."

"Very true," Ro-shei said.

"Well, provided you don't get blood all over the floor, then do as your customs demand of you." Kittu started back for his inn, motioning to Zangi-Ragozh and Ro-shei to follow him. "Don't worry about your things: those two scamps will be far more careful now than if they hadn't been caught neglecting their duties. They won't steal, either. They know I'd have both their right hands if they should take so much as a buckle from you." He stepped into the reception area, nodding toward the dining room. "Food is served four times a day. We don't do the midnight meals they do in the southlands."

"Given where you are, there are probably regulations against it," said Zangi-Ragozh. "When I was last through here, all businesses had to be shut by nightfall."

"We innkeepers have a little leeway, as do restaurants, entertainers, and licensed brothels, but yes, you will find that we often curtail our work as soon as the Great Gates are shut. The Guard patrols the streets and the army mans the Great North Gate. No barges can tie up within the town walls, as you know." He indicated a broad corridor. "The rooms I mentioned are down there. I have nine other guests just now, and only one of them is in, so you have the inn almost completely to yourselves."

"I'm sorry your business is down," said Zangi-Ragozh.

"It will improve again, in time. It is not as if my circumstances are unusual." He pointed toward the north wall. "The bath-house is just there, on the far side of the inn from the latrines. The water is wholesome and the tubs are scrubbed with every new moon. You may reach it through the door between the dining room and the kitchens."

"If you will have the bath-house heated?" Zangi-Ragozh offered a handful of coins.

"Certainly." Kittu held out his hand. "That will be four silver cash. The price is high because of the unusual cold-we must burn more wood to heat it, and to keep it warm."

"I grasp the problem," said Zangi-Ragozh.

"Without arguments?" Kittu marveled. "Then you are a most remarkable merchant."

"Would the prices be any less elsewhere?" Zangi-Ragozh asked.

"Probably not," said Kittu.

"Then what would be the point in disputing?" Zangi-Ragozh gestured the issue away. "I have three large chests in the wagon, set in the center of the bed. If one of them could be brought to whichever room you assign me, I would be grateful." He slipped a small string of silver cash off his wrist and handed it to Kittu. "This should pay for the bath and the extra service we may require."

Kittu took it at once. "You are a generous man, Worthy Foreigner."

Zangi-Ragozh shook his head. "I have been about the world a little, and I know how demanding hardship can be."

Kittu looked a bit startled. "Hardship?"

"This cold spring is a hardship, and one that will not be quickly settled. I saw frost on the ground this morning, and it will probably still be here in the Fortnight of the Thunder God, which is almost upon us; it may last into the Fortnight of the Descent of Kuan-Te." Zangi-Ragozh shook his head.

"Ordinarily we call that the Fortnight of the Desert's Breath," said Kittu. "Not this year. As you say."

"What do you hear from other travelers?" Zangi-Ragozh asked.

"I have seen so few travelers! They say some of the passes are still blocked with snow, as if it were late winter, and others have reported landslides on the road near Miran." Kittu shrugged. "The merchants coming on the northern branch of the Silk Road have not yet arrived, so who can tell what they may have encountered." He nodded. "I will tell my slaves to heat the bath, and I'll have Hagai and Jinje bring that chest to whichever of the two rooms you choose."

"Very good," said Zangi-Ragozh. "And my traveling companion will go in search of his dinner."

Ro-shei dropped his voice and said in Byzantine Greek, "When you're done bathing and I'm finished eating, you may look to your own nourishment."

"So I will," said Zangi-Ragozh.

"What did he say?" Kittu challenged, holding up his thick hand to show how serious he was. "I won't have any barbarian nonsense in my inn."

Zangi-Ragozh offered a brief, charming smile. "He was only reminding me to choose my woman carefully."

"Oh, very good advice," Kittu approved, and wondered why Zangi-Ragozh had smiled as he led the two foreigners to their rooms.

Text of a letter from the clerk Hu Bi-Da, in Yang-Chau, to his employer, the foreign merchant, in Chang'an; carried by courier but never delivered.

To the most excellent employer and Worthy Foreigner, Zangi-Ragozh, currently in Chang'an, his clerk, Hu Bi-Da, sends his most respectful greetings and the condolences in regard to the matters upon which I write to inform you.

It is my sad duty to tell you that your merchant ship The Shining Pearl, which had been reported missing, has been sunk. No man aboard her and no scrap of cargo was saved. This has been confirmed by two separate sources, neither of which may easily be impeached for accuracy or honesty. I have taken full accounts from the two Captains who have made this claim, and I am satisfied that their accounts are alike enough to show that they have not mistaken their information, nor have they done anything in the way of collusion together, to deceive or defraud you. The loss of the ship is a great one, and I must tell you that the settlement you have authorized for the family of the Captain will mean that none of the children need be sold, which must be a very welcome thing to his two wives. Yet I fear this may only be the first of many losses to come.

I have ordered a new ship built, in accordance with your instructions, and I will seek out a proper Captain for her when she is complete and it is once again safe to launch a ship upon the waves. The plans are already in the hands of the shipwrights, and they have promised all due speed in the building. Gold is much in demand just now, with trade gone off so badly. As soon as the ship is ready, I will send you word so that you may instruct me where it is to sail. The Shining Pearl had traveled a long way, but she was by no means so ancient that she was in need of dismantling.

The Magistrate has issued orders for new taxes so that the damaged wharves and warehouses may be repaired. Our taxes will be higher than some, as you are a foreigner, and you will have to bear the full price of repairs to your property, but for once, I understand the need for such taxation, and I will not be adverse to paying it. Councillor Ko has told me that there will be additional taxes to provide some support to those businesses damaged by the storms, and those compromised by the lingering cold weather we are all experiencing. There are more than adequate funds to pay for such taxes, and once trade is properly resumed, you may be confident that I will not depend upon the generous deposits you have provided to fund the regular operations of your trading.

Your former concubine, Dei-Na, has informed me that she is planning to marry. The man is a widower, respectable, with a small but successful jade-carving shop. His work is held in high regard, and he has enough money of his own not to need hers. I have reminded her that she does not need your permission to marry, but that I was relieved that she had chosen such a worthy man to wed. She has asked me to notify you of this, and now I have done.

The Gods of Fortune show you favor, Worthy Foreigner; they have used us all most harshly here in Yang-Chau. In Chang'an, I hope things will be better, for if we cannot prosper trading by sea, then we must do so by and, and Chang'an is the key to such prosperity. Given how inclement the weather has been, and how feeble the sun's rays when they do shine, I must hope that your sigil, as you call it, reflects the Will of Heaven at this time, and for that, you will thrive when others are less fortunate. If you are visited with similar misfortunes as other merchants have suffered, then I will throw myself on the mercy of the Gods of Fortune for all of our sakes. Should you have an offering to make, this may be an auspicious time, for all the adversity we see, as it is known that when the depths are reached, change will come and end the tribulation.

Hu Bi-Da

Senior clerk, Eclipse Trading Company