Barry Sadler: The War lord

Casca entered the walls of the city Ch'ang-an after careful scrutiny by the officer in charge on the moongate entrance. After inspection of the seals on the letters from the King of Kushan and Commander of the Jade Gate, he provided an escort that led the foreigner through the streets of the city to the quarters where the emissaries of foreign courts were provided the hospitality of the Tzin Emperor until such time as the Son of Heaven could see them.

The escort was friendly and curious. Never had he seen anyone like this big man on the wiry mountain pony. The city of Tzin was well laid out with wide streets formed into walled blocks. There were over three hundred and fifty of these, each walled enclosure a smaller city unto itself with gates that closed at sundown. There being no traffic between the smaller cities, there was less chance for riot or revolt.

Inside, the wards were only narrow paths that had to be traveled on foot. Even the most noble visitor would have to dismount and enter on foot. The buck-toothed smiling guide informed Casca that Ch'ang-an was like all the other cities of the Emperor, laid out with the royal palace facing south so that all who approached would come from the north. To face south was a sign of superiority, none could have more than the Son of Heaven. Of course, there were rare occasions when the Emperor would, as a sign of respect or favor, greet a great man or loyal subject on an east or west line, but this was rare indeed and only happened twice that the guide could remember.

Entering a ward with walls forty feet high and sentries on guard, they passed through a rounded gate with bars that could lower instantly, leaving holes from which archers could fire. The tiled roofs and gardens within were laid out in a manner strange to his eyes. Placement of such common objects as a few odd-shaped rocks set on raked gravel gave an oddly comforting effect, even peaceful. Fragile as the small gardens appeared, they looked as if they would endure forever, captured in a moment of time, preserved for the ages.

His smiling host showed him to three rooms in which were graceful ink drawings and strange airy paintings, of almost ethereal quality. His guide bowed on leaving, saying others would come soon to see to his needs.

There were no chairs in the room. Casca sat on a large cushion to take his boots off, wincing at the odor. He had been told his horse was in the imperial stables and his gear would be brought to him later. The absence of his sword bothered him, but he had been left with the small belt dagger of Sung Ti as a sign of trust. Leaning back, his eyes blinked once and then closed.

He was awakened by the rustling of silk robes. As his eyes snapped open, a gentle face appeared in focus, eyes like those of a mountain doe, hair piled high on her head, held by combs of jade and ivory set with long pins, jeweled with sapphires on the tips.

The girl smiled shyly as she too looked at the barbarian from beyond the edge of the world. Hesitantly, she motioned for him to follow her.

Leading him with graceful tiny steps, she took him through a series of paneled and paper-walled rooms to a tiled bath of lapis lazuli, indicating for him to enter the water. As she helped him remove his clothing she looked at him curiously, then motioned for him to enter the steaming water.

Sighing deeply, Casca lowered himself into the water to his chest. After the long months on the trail the hot water was ecstasy. The girl rolled up her long sleeves and began to wash his back with perfumed oils and soap. She was soon joined by three others, each as beautiful and curious. Among them they left, to Casca's delight, no part of his body un-scrubbed.

Rising from the bath, he was given clean fresh robes with emblems in ideograms he could not understand, but which obviously provided him an identity for whatever status he had in this palace of delights.

The girls chattered merrily among themselves, comparing his anatomy and exclaiming over the wealth of scar tissue that crisscrossed his body. The deep scar on his chest seemed to fascinate them almost as much as the hair on his chest, which they had competed for the right to wash and giggled at the feel while wondering among themselves what it would feel like next to their own skin, for the men of their race had no such thing. Even if the big nose was ugly, he was somehow not unappealing.

The girl who had first come for him almost fell over when Casca asked her in her own language if she would like to find out how the hair on his chest would feel next to her own smooth bosom. Giggling, she hid her face behind one long silk sleeve and beckoned for him to follow her again, this time returning him to his noms where he found all his gear was gone and even more clothes awaiting his approval.

For the first time, the girl spoke directly to him, her voice like one of the melodic wind chimes he had seen hanging from the tree branches in the courtyard: "Food will be brought soon, barbarian. Your clothes are being burned. They are not fit for this place. You are being shown the honors and courtesies required by law to be given to an imperial messenger from another king-no more and no less. I am Mei Cho, a slave, and perhaps I will be permitted to serve you while you are in residence in this garden."

Giggling she stammered, "You really are so very ugly.”

Laughing still, she fled outside and disappeared down a tiled walkway.

Three days Casca waited, growing ever more restless but still not permitted to leave the confines of the garden. At night he watched the rocks and sand; they seemed to want to tell him something, if only he could see. Twice men of the court had come and questioned him politely as to what he had encountered on the trail of the silk road, making notes on what looked like papyrus, writing with long graceful strokes.

On the third night, while sitting on the bench placed so that one could view the garden, he sat watching the light from the moon cast shadows over the garden, lighting one place and casting another into darkness. A shadow crossed him. Standing, he turned around to see a young man wearing only a simple robe of gray linen watching him.

The young man bowed and moved closer, "Forgive me, honored sir, if I have disturbed your moment."

Casca bowed likewise. The moon lit up the youngster's face, smooth in the light. His eyes were gentle yet wiser than his years.

Casca indicated the carved stone bench. "Will you join me, young master? The night is quiet and there is room for more than one. I would be honored for you to share your company with me." Damn, he thought to himself, I am beginning to talk like them, it must be contagious.

The youngster moved with smooth strong steps to the bench, sat down and folded his hands, one on the other. Both were silent for a moment and then the boy pointed to the garden with long graceful fingers. "For what do you look in the garden, Lord Casca?"

"I don't know, young sir, but it draws me. I believe the stones and gravel have a special meaning."

The boy nodded. "Indeed, that is why it is what it is. One of the greatest poets of our land built this small piece of perfection over two hundred years ago. It is his message and feelings that draw you."

"Yes," agreed Casca. "I never thought of it before, but it is like a poem, if only I could understand the words."

The boy smiled showing even white teeth. "Perhaps you will before this night is out. Watch the garden and I will try to help you."

Casca let his eyes drift over the shadows and sands settling on one lone rock sitting by itself apart from the others and somehow seeming like him, part of the whole, but always alone. The boy's voice merged with the garden. "Yes, it is alone, that one common rock is humanity, placed by itself, as it has been for two hundred years. It was put there for all who are lonely to see and know they are not the only ones who must be lonely and even the most humble of objects has feeling too." Pointing to where the two larger stones were connected by a piece of weathered rope, tying the larger stone to the smaller, he continued, "That is man and woman when Chu Ssma placed them there. He took pity on them in their isolation and made them one by giving the thread of life to connect them, to give them comfort though there is a distance between them. Now they are happy and have each other. They shall be so as long as this place exists."