Clive Cussler: Treasure of Khan

After landfall disappeared from sight, the sailing came surprisingly easy for the inexperienced crew. Fair skies and calm seas greeted the men each day for a fortnight as they sailed with the wind. Only an occasional squall tested the boat's sturdiness, and it also gave the crew a chance to collect fresh rainwater. All the while, Mahu calmly issued the sailing orders while constantly tracking the sun and stars.

Studying the clouds on the horizon several days later, he noticed an unusual clustering to the southwest.

"Land to the south, two days' sailing," he proclaimed.

Relief and excitement flowed through the crew at the prospect of reaching land again. But where were they, and what lands were they approaching?

The next morning, a dot appeared on the horizon, which grew larger with each passing hour. It was not land, however, but another sailing vessel crossing their path. As the ship drew near, Temur could see it sported a low stern and captured the wind with triangular white sails. She was not a Chinese vessel, he knew, but looked to be an Arab merchant ship. The trader drew alongside the island catamaran and dropped its sails as a thin dark-skinned man in a brightly colored robe shouted a greeting from the rail.

Temur studied the man for a moment, then, reading no threat, climbed aboard the small sailing ship.

The trading vessel was from Zanzibar, its captain a jovial Muslim merchantman with considerable experience trading goods with the royal court of the Great Khan. The ship was bound for Shanghai with a cargo of ivory, gold, and spices, to be traded for fine Chinese porcelain and silk. Temur's tiny crew was welcomed aboard and sadly watched as their sturdy double-hulled canoe was cut loose, left to drift the Pacific alone.

The Muslim captain shrewdly guessed that saving the life of a Mongol commander would result in a more favored trading status and he wasn't disappointed. Landing at the port city of Shanghai, the vessel ignited an immediate uproar. News of the soldiers' appearance thirteen years after the aborted invasion of Japan spread across the city like wildfire. Representatives from the government met Temur and his men and whisked them up to the Imperial City at Ta-tu for a briefing with the emperor. Along the way, Temur quizzed his escorts about news of war and politics during his absence.

Much of the news was dispiriting. The invasion of Japan had been an unmitigated disaster, he learned, the typhoon having wiped out over two thousand ships and nearly one hundred thousand men. Temur was saddened to learn that his commander and many of his comrades had not returned with the remnants of the surviving fleet. Equally disturbing was the revelation that the islands of Japan still lay unconquered.

Though Kublai Khan wished to attempt a third invasion, his advisers had wisely quelled the notion.

In a little over a decade, the dominance of the entire empire had been shattered. After defeat in Japan, an expedition to suppress unrest in Vietnam had also met with failure, while the expense of expanding the Grand Canal to Chung-tu had nearly caused the economy to collapse. Questions about the emperor's health created apprehension about his successor. A simmering resentment already resided in the people over the fact that a Mongol ruled the Yuan Empire. There seemed to be little dispute. Since defeating the Song Dynasty in 1279 and uniting China under a single rule, Kublai Khan's empire was now withering in a slow decline.

Arriving in the capital city of Ta-tu, Temur and his men were led to the Imperial City and escorted into the private chambers of the emperor. Though Temur had seen Kublai Khan many times in earlier years, he was shocked at the sight of the man before him now. Stretched out on a padded chaise lounge and clad in yards of silk robing was a fat haggard man who stared through sullen black eyes. Despondent over the recent death of his favorite wife and the loss of his second son, Kublai had turned to food and drink for solace, consuming both in excess. Though he'd reached the startling age of eighty, the dietary excesses were now wreaking havoc on the revered leader's health. Temur noted that the overweight Khan rested a gout-inflamed foot on a pillow, while jugs of fermented mare's milk stood at arm's length.

"Commander Temur, you have returned from a considerable absence to resume your duty," the Khan stated in a raspy voice.

"As the emperor commands," Temur replied, bowing deeply.

"Tell of your voyages, Temur, and the mysterious land on which you were shipwrecked."

Carved chairs were brought for Temur and his men to sit, as the Mongol commander described the fierce typhoon that blew his ship away from the Japanese mainland and their subsequent plight adrift at sea. As cups of the alcoholic liquid were passed around, he described their luck at landing on the lush island and being welcomed by the local inhabitants. Introducing Mahu, he told of the old man's aid in sailing the large double-hulled vessel across the sea before they met up with the Muslim merchant.

"A remarkable journey," Kublai lauded. "The lands you fell upon, they were rich and fertile?"

"Exceedingly. The soil is bountiful, and, with a temperate climate subject to much rainfall, an abundance of wild and cultivated plants flourish there."

"Congratulations, my emperor," said a wrinkled man with a long white beard standing at the Khan's side.

The Confucian adviser to the throne was clearly unimpressed with the tale or the audience before him.

"You have once again added new lands to the empire."

"It is true you have left a garrison behind?" Kublai asked. "The lands are now under Mongol rule?"

Temur silently cursed the Confucian adviser's ploy to fabricate glory for the emperor. He knew that the men he left behind had long ago ground their swords for domestic life. Their loyalty to the khan had been a question well before they even shipwrecked.

"Yes," Temur lied. "A small contingent rules the land in your name." He looked at the old village chief Mahu with shame, but the old man simply nodded back, understanding the politics of the empire.

Kublai gazed past the men across the room, his eyes seeing an image far beyond the walls of the palace.

Temur wondered if the Mongol ruler was intoxicated from the drink.

"I should like to see this wondrous place, this land where the sun first shines on my empire," Kublai finally whispered dreamily.

"Yes, it is a near paradise on earth. As beautiful as any lands under the reign."

"You know the route back, Temur?"

"I do not know the ways of navigation at sea, but Mahu can read the sun and the stars. He could find the way back to his home in a stout ship, I believe."

"You have served the empire well, Temur. Your loyalty to the empire shall be well rewarded," Kublai gasped, coughing up a mouthful of liquid that sprayed over his silk tunic.

"Thank you, my emperor," he replied, bowing again. A pair of palace guards suddenly materialized and escorted Temur and his men out of the Khan's chamber.

The Mongol commander felt remorse as he left the palace. The great Kublai Khan was but a tired and ancient shell of the old leader who ruled one of the largest empires in world history. Much more than a bloodthirsty conqueror like his grandfather, Kublai had ruled with an enlightenment not seen before. He welcomed traders and explorers from distant lands, imposed laws that fostered religious tolerance, and promoted scientific research into geography, astronomy, and medicine. He was now near death, and the empire couldn't help but become a less inspired land without his visionary leadership.

As Temur exited the grand palace grounds, he suddenly noticed than Mahu was not by his side. Oddly, he realized that the old villager had remained behind in the emperor's chamber. Temur waited for him to emerge, but after several hours gave up and proceeded out of the capital city to his home village and family. He never again saw the old man who had led him home and often wondered of the fate of his foreign friend.