“Do you think you ought to leave just now? I realize there’s some urgency, but we are in the full grip of winter. Wouldn’t you prefer to travel in spring?” Ro-shei asked Zangi-Ragozh in Imperial Latin as they watched through the open salon doorway while half a dozen servants loaded up a wagon at the head of the drive. A second, smaller wagon stood waiting behind it. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground and a pale mist hung in the air.
“Would you rather not go with me?” Zangi-Ragozh asked, looking up from the book he held. He set this down in order to give Ro-shei his full attention.
He did not answer directly. “Matters in Chang’an are still very uncertain, and it will be cold and wet on the road.”
“If it is any comfort to you, I think it probably is a trifle precipitous to go just now, but a nearly-royal summons is a nearly-royal summons. Under ordinary circumstances I would remain here for a month or so, preferably two, before setting out for the west,” said Zangi-Ragozh in the same tongue. “But I have been sent for by Wen Emperor Yuan Buo-Ju, as he styles himself, to meet with him and a number of merchants in Chang’an; it would be foolish not to obey, as he is about to ascend the throne there, and he needs to show everyone his power.”
“By summoning merchants at the end of January,” said Ro-shei in annoyance.
Zangi-Ragozh waved his hand as if to express his will. “Better merchants than warlords. He wishes to make his authority recognized, and not just in the west but throughout the Middle of the World; the most efficient way to do this is through merchants and other travelers, for such endorsement means a quick concession from other rulers. Chang’an is a crucial crossroads for all traders, and you may be certain Wen Emperor Yuan intends to make the most of it—he would be a fool not to. I do not want to give him any reason to detain my caravans or tax them more ferociously than is already the case. If that means I must travel in winter, so be it.” He had donned his heaviest black-silk sen-hsien and had a fur cloak sitting out, ready for him. “You do not have to come with me. I can manage this myself.”
“I know,” said Ro-shei. “But I feel it would be unwise to remain here alone. You have Professor Min Cho-Zhi arriving here tomorrow, to watch over your house, and that should be sufficient to reassure the Magistrate and the Councillors that you are going to return. This isn’t Wen Emperor Yuan’s territory, and your being gone could lead to trouble for me as another foreigner, should I remain.”
“So it could,” Zangi-Ragozh said thoughtfully. “And Professor Min might change his mind.”
“That is a possibility, but there are others, and the problems they could create are closer to home. He will have access to your equipment, to the athanor and your other alchemical supplies,” said Ro-shei, running one hand through his short-cropped, sandy hair.
“Not the athanor.” Zangi-Ragozh lifted one brow as a kind of commentary on his decision. “I’ve taken that to the main warehouse and crated it as if it has been cargo, then stored it under a number of other crates and labeled it in Persian as an oven—which, technically, it is. It will not be seen, let alone used, in my absence. I’ve packed my stash of jewels in my travel chests except for a handful of diamonds, which I have put in the strongbox in my study. Jho has been told about it, but not Min.”
“Professor Min has great curiosity, and I doubt he will leave such instruments or containers unexamined. He might decide to claim them as his own.”
“He might,” Zangi-Ragozh said. “But it would be a dangerous thing for him to do.”
“When he came here yesterday morning, he asked a great many questions of me, not all of them ones I was comfortable answering.” Ro-shei paced the room, his faded-blue eyes worried.
“Yes, he concerns me, as well. Is that why you are considering staying here?” Zangi-Ragozh asked, and before Ro-shei could answer, he went on, “Because if it is, you need not worry. I have made certain provisions that will protect all my possessions from Min or anyone else; I sent an accounting to the Magistrate last evening and assigned temporary legal power to Councillor Ko and Professor Tsa, which provides them with authority to preserve my holdings.”
Ro-shei looked relieved. “I should have known you would take measures to guard yourself.”
“You should,” Zangi-Ragozh agreed with a sardonic smile. “I will be glad of your company, but I do not want to compel you to travel in winter if you would rather not. You have already spent two years roaming about on the ocean on my behalf. If you would prefer to stay—” Zangi-Ragozh put the tips of his fingers together and regarded his pleasant salon over them.
“I have benefited from the excursion, and I will not mind setting out again. I am only concerned with the conditions we may encounter,” said Ro-shei, and went back to watching the progress of the loading. “At least you need not suffer, traveling overland.”
Zangi-Ragozh nodded. “Truly. So long a journey over water, in a box in the hold of a ship, would be hard for me to endure.” He coughed gently. “As I know from experience.”
“There will be rivers to cross,” Ro-shei reminded him.
“And that will be more than enough running water for me, I think,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “As to my affairs here, I hope they are sufficiently organized to withstand my absence and anything Min, Tsa, and Ko can do. I can only hope this journey will be useful: that will depend on how the regions sort out their dynastic bickering.”
“Which has been the case for decades, and no solution has come, as witness the new dynasty in Chang’an,” said Ro-shei with a hint of disgust in his voice. “Whatever the result, you will find a way to accommodate it, or we will leave for the far west again.”
“We should have to travel fairly soon, in any case,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “I know I will be watched on this journey, and I do not want to give any ruler cause to be dissatisfied with me. Besides, I have not made enough gold for an extended trip, and I’ll have to do that before we return to Europe. Even with the jewels, it would be safer to make more gold. It is accepted everywhere, by everyone,” said Zangi-Ragozh. A sudden oath from one of the servants loading the wagons intruded, and Zangi-Ragozh went to the window to watch them work, remarking, “They’re not usually so careless.” When he was satisfied that all was well, he went on, “Tell me what you would rather do: travel or remain.”
Ro-shei shrugged. “I assumed that was settled: I will do either, abiding by your decision, whatever it may be. I am prepared to travel in a little while, but I can also stay here, as suits you best.”
“You humble me, and you may remind me of that on the road,” said Zangi-Ragozh, his voice quietly sincere. “Well,” he went on a short while later, “it is a relief to know Dei-Na has a home of her own to go to now. I would not have wanted to leave her here without some provision for her.”
“She could have remained in this house,” Ro-shei pointed out. “There is no reason to set her up away from here, is there?”
“This house—indeed this whole compound and my trading business—is subject to seizure by the Prefecture as the property of a foreigner; the edict was handed down from the Vermilion Brush itself, last year, and it is still in effect in spite of changes. That would be a poor gift to Dei-Na—to leave her with nothing if someone in power should decide to confiscate my holdings.” Zangi-Ragozh shook his head. “No. Better that she has something entirely her own that cannot be taken from her.”
“Do you miss her?” Ro-shei asked, fairly certain he knew the answer.
“Of course. She may not have wanted to know me as I am, but she never refused me her dreams, and for that I am deeply grateful,” said Zangi-Ragozh, a certain distance in his eyes.
“You could have made her willing to have more,” said Ro-shei quietly.
“Perhaps,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “But then I remembered Nicoris, and I was acquiescent, accepting Dei-Na in the manner she preferred. I would not like to lose another of my blood, especially not by her own hand. Nicoris’ True Death is enough to bear.” He looked down at his handsome display of jade figures. “I may take the lions with me.”
“Do you want me to find boxes for them?”
“No. I’ll have Jho do it.” He reached for a small Byzantine bell and rang it. “If you would like to do something for me before we depart, distribute New Year money to the staff for me. I do not want to provide any excuse for complaint.” He shifted to the dialect of the region. “This way, the servants will not say I ignore their customs.”
Ro-shei spoke in Chinese as well. “Do you have the envelopes prepared, or should I find red paper to make some?”
“They are ready to be handed out. In the second drawer of my writing table,” Zangi-Ragozh said, pointing. “Thank you for doing this, old friend. You are always a great asset for—” A discreet tap on the inner door claimed his attention. “Come in.”
Jho Chieh-Jen slid the door open. “The wagons will be ready shortly,” he announced. “How much grain do you want the stablehands to load?”
“Two medium barrels,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “And a small barrel of oil, as well. Sheh will know which I want.”
Ro-shei took up the red paper envelopes, each containing a small gold coin, and said, “I’ll return shortly,” before letting himself out of the salon.
The steward paid Ro-shei no heed, concentrating his attention on Zangi-Ragozh. “The chief groom has already filled a small barrel for you, as you instructed. I suppose it is the sort of oil you want. It smells of garlic.” There was a suggestion of disapproval in Jho’s tone which might have been the result of his long-standing rivalry with Sheh.
“That is the oil, which I add to the grain. It keeps the horses’ coats from damage, and worms from their guts.” He nodded toward the jade figurines. “Will you be good enough to find boxes for those two lions, and pack them to travel with me?”
“Certainly,” said Jho, doing his best not to appear curious.
“It being winter, I would like to have a bit more protection with me—for luck. Those two lions should ward off danger,” Zangi-Ragozh told him, knowing it would appeal to his sense of propriety.
“Everyone needs luck,” said Jho, taking a liberty he would not dare had his employer been Chinese.
“Indeed. See them packed in boxes and stowed with my things in the second wagon. Have the gifts for Wen Yuan been loaded yet?”
“All but the ivory screen. That is being wrapped in quilts and bound with soft ropes,” said Jho. “I have made an accounting of all the items you are taking to Chang’an. Will you endorse it with your chop?” He pulled a small rolled scroll from his sleeve.
“Bring it to me,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “I trust you have made a copy for me to take with me, for the customs officials?” He went to his writing desk and opened it, removing his chop and inkpad.
“Of course,” said Jho, handing over the scroll. “Both sheets are rolled together.”
“I thought as much,” said Zangi-Ragozh, a bit distantly as he reviewed the items on the list, pausing to add two notations to the information contained in the accounting. “This appears to be complete, and sufficient for the customs officials’ specifications.” He put the scrolls down and secured them open with small jade paperweights, then affixed his chop to the bottom of both of them.
Jho waited while the red ink dried. “Do you know when you’ll return yet?”
“As soon as I may properly do so,” said Zangi-Ragozh. He picked up his large square, red visiting card with instructions written on its back. “You should be able to reach me at these places. I’d like to have fortnightly reports from you, carried by official courier. The service has already been paid for.”
“I will do as you ask, of course,” said Jho, taking the visiting card and one of the scrolls; he tucked them into his sleeve and prepared to leave the room. “Is there anything more you require?”
“You have checked the stores? You have brought them all up to the levels I requested? The regular ones and the emergency ones?”
“They are all in order,” said Jho. “Food for a year in the cellar of this house, all sacks and barrels labeled, all fruits dried. Blankets and bedding in the attic, along with cloth for new clothing. Food for a month in the kitchen. Food for horses for six months in the stables, and grazing areas at the west side of the inner wall. A clear well in the garden, an orchard and berry bushes within the compound. We may take in ten people beyond those who already live here and still be able to last a year inside the compound; this will allow four wives and their children to be given shelter. All the medicinal supplies are on the second floor in your herb-room, next to your workroom. The herbalist Pao Yan-Fen has the keys to the chests there. He is to be consulted if any illness or injury should occur, and his recommendations followed.” Jho recited this by rote. “No fevered person is to be admitted if there is disease in Yang-Chau, no soldiers are to be admitted if there is an insurrection. Otherwise we are to cooperate with all authorities.”
“Excellent,” Zangi-Ragozh said. “See you observe these rules.”
“Do you really expect a plague, or a war?” Jho asked, voicing a question that had long puzzled him.
Zangi-Ragozh considered his answer. “If I have learned anything in my long travels, it is that pestilence and war do not wait until it is convenient to visit cities. You cannot expect them, as you would spring or the Dragon Boat Festival. So I do my best to be prepared for their appearance at any time.”