Silk Road (42 page)

The Emperor seemed better disposed to receive them today. Sober, at least. He reclined on a throne of gold and ivory. He had on a rimmed helmet of beaten gold and a robe of crimson silk. His feet were clad in stubby leather boots with upturned toes in the Tatar style. This time he did not have Phags-pa beside him as intermediary. His golden eyes were as watchful and languorous as a cat’s.

Josseran and William were required to remain on their knees but one of the attendants at least brought them a silver cup filled with black koumiss.

William refused.

‘Does he not like our wine?’ the Emperor asked Josseran directly.

‘It is forbidden him because of our religion,’ Josseran answered.

‘He does not drink? That has not been my experience of Christians. Are you also forbidden?’

‘I am not a priest.’

‘So you like our wine?’

‘Very much.’

‘And do you like the chalice?’

‘It is very fine,’ Josseran answered, wondering where this line of enquiry was leading.

‘It is called the Wrath of Chinggis Khan.’

Josseran examined it, speculating on why it was so highly valued. It was a large bowl, covered in silver, but very plain and without decoration.

‘It is made from the cranium of a chief who defied my grandfather,’ Khubilai explained. ‘He captured him and had him boiled alive in a cauldron. When he was dead he removed his head with his own sword and had his skull set in silver.’ He paused, to allow his guests to digest this information. ‘Do you have such vessels in the barbarian lands?’

Aware of the implied threat, Josseran assured him that they did not.

‘What is he saying?’ William demanded.

‘He informs me that this cup was fashioned from the head of one of his grandfather’s enemies.’

William made the sign of the cross. ‘Savages!’

‘What is this other one saying?’ Khubilai asked.

Josseran hesitated before replying. ‘He is fearful in your presence,’ he said, ‘and wishes to extend his warm wishes from his master.’

The Emperor grunted, satisfied.

‘Tell him I bring him good news of the one and true faith and the promise of life everlasting for him and all his subjects!’

‘Be still,’ Josseran snapped.

‘I am an emissary of the Pope himself! I will not be still! This is the reason I journeyed here. You will translate for me while I read this fellow the papal Bull!’

Josseran turned back to the Emperor. ‘We wish to bring you word of the Christian religion, which brings hope and joy to men everywhere.’

‘We already have the Luminous Religion in our realm.’

‘But it is not the true form of our religion.’

The Emperor gave a soft smile. ‘Mar Salah, who is Metropolitan of Shang-tu, says it is you who are not true Christians and that I should not listen to you.’

Josseran absorbed this news without expression. William eagerly awaited his translation. Josseran gave it to him, word for word.

The friar’s face suffused purple. ‘This savage would take the word of a heretic over that of the Pope himself?’

‘We would be best served by acting with dignity in the face of this provocation,’ Josseran reminded him.

But William had already produced a parchment from his robes. He broke the metal seal. It must be the Pope’s Bull.

It was clear he intended to read it, regardless of Josseran’s efforts to stop him. He will antagonize the Emperor and cost us any chance of a fair hearing, Josseran thought. He may perhaps even cost us our lives. God forgive me, but I have no intention of translating the Bull. William is too importunate and the Pope is not here. If we are to return to Outremer with credit, then I shall trust in my own judgement.

‘. . . so that you may acknowledge Jesus Christ as the Son of God and worship His name by practising His religion . . .’

William was now on his feet and was reading the Pope’s letter at the top of his voice, in Latin, which neither the Emperor or any of his courtiers could understand. Madness. If he continues in this vein the Emperor will have another chalice to add to his collection. The Wrath of Khubilai Emperor.

‘. . . that you desist from the persecution of Christians and that after many and such grievous offences you conciliate by fitting penance the wrath of Divine Majesty, which without doubt you have seriously aroused by such provocation . . .’

‘What is he saying?’ Khubilai wanted to know.

‘I fear, great lord, that the journey has greatly fatigued him. Perhaps we may continue our conversation alone and allow my companion the rest he so desperately requires.’

At a nod from the Emperor, two men of the
kesig
, the imperial bodyguard, stepped forward and took William by the arms. He yelped in alarm. Ignoring his struggles, they dragged him bodily from the tent. Josseran could hear his shouts of protests even as they marched him back up the avenue of willows.

‘T
ELL ME
, B
ARBARIAN
, who is your khan?’

‘My king is named Louis.’

‘He sent you here?’

‘No, my lord. In Outremer I give my allegiance to the Grand Master of the Knights of the Temple, who put their service at the feet of the Pope, who is the head of the Christian Church.’

Khubilai considered this. I suppose it must seem to him a fantastic and confusing arrangement. ‘Where is this Outremer that you speak of?’

‘It is far to the west of here, my lord. Its capital is a place called Acre, close to Aleppo, where Prince Hülegü lays siege.’

‘The siege is ended. I learned many months ago that Hülegü is now master of Aleppo and another city called Damascus.’

Josseran stared into the Emperor’s golden eyes and wondered what else he knew. Had the Tatars also laid siege to any of the castles of Outremer? Had they already routed all of the Saracens and besieged Acre as well? If Khubilai knew the answers to these questions, he was clearly not of a mind to say.

‘Where are you from, Barbarian?’

‘I am a Frank, great lord. I come from a place called Troyes.’

‘And do you have good pastures there? Do you raise many horses?’

‘The lands are very different from here.’

‘They say the horses you brought with you were large and slow and did not even survive the journey to the Roof of the World.’

‘My own horse had served me well through many campaigns.’

‘Yet it died on the journey.’

‘I did not have the means to feed her.’

‘Your horses cannot forage for themselves?’

‘No, great lord. That is not in their nature. They are not accustomed to mountains and deserts.’

And so it went on. Khubilai asked endless questions in a similar vein: Did Frankish kings live in palaces as fine as his? What was the punishment for stealing a horse? What was the punishment for putting a knife in the fire – an action, Josseran had learned, that was considered heinous among the Tatars. He wanted to know everything he could about Christendom but did not seem disposed just yet to allow Josseran to ask any questions of his own.

Finally, Khubilai turned his attention to matters of religion. ‘Mar Salah is of this Luminous Religion, as you yourself claim to be. He says his God is named Jesus. He also has this one he calls the Father. And this Holy Spirit as well. Do you have these same gods?’

‘There is just one God. Christ was his son on earth.’

‘Just one god? It seems to me, then, that for all your bluster you do not place great store by religion.’

‘On the contrary. We fight wars for our religion. It is why we made armed pilgrimage to Outremer. There is a place we call the Holy Land where the Son of God was born. Men came from all over Christendom to protect it.’

The Emperor studied him for a long time. ‘And this is why you wish for alliance with us against the Saracen. So you can possess this place?’

‘Indeed.’

Josseran waited, feeling his heart hammer in his chest. Finally they were to talk of the matter for which they had travelled these six long months.

Khubilai’s expression was unfathomable. ‘I will consider what you propose,’ he said, finally. ‘Perhaps you will reside here in Shangtu and enjoy the hospitality of my court while I discuss such a treaty with my ministers. In the meantime, I am curious about this religion of yours, and how it is different from the Jesus which we already have. I would also like to know more of this Pope that you speak of.’

‘My companion, who is a priest, and sent by our Pope himself, would be most delighted to instruct you further.’

‘Can he do magic?’

‘Magic?’ Josseran looked at him, mystified.

‘Yes, this shaman who accompanies you. Can he do magic?’

‘I fear not, lord.’

‘Mar Salah claims that this Jesus could raise the dead and turn water into wine. Can this Pope and his priests do likewise?’

‘Our Saviour could do this, yes,’ Josseran told him. ‘But William is just a man.’

Khubilai, Lord of Heaven, seemed disappointed in this answer. He nodded slowly. ‘What good is religion without magic?’

Six months before he would not even have understood such a question. But at that moment, Josseran Sarrazini, sinner and knight, felt a certain sympathy with the Great Khan’s predicament. ‘I should like to speak with your shaman but there are many affairs of state which already occupy my time. However, if it pleases you, there is another who may be interested in what you have to say.’ Josseran waited while the Emperor studied him with his deceptively soft brown eyes. ‘I shall arrange it.’

There were guards posted outside William’s door when Josseran returned to the palace. According to Sartaq they had orders to keep the ‘barbarian madman’ in his quarters until his ravings had ended.

Josseran took a deep breath and gently eased the door open.

William was standing by the window, his face white with anger. For a long time neither man spoke. ‘What was the meaning of your behaviour?’ he said finally.

‘It was your doing. You put us both in danger.’

‘I am the emissary of the Pope! You are my escort, not my master!’

‘Did I not warn you to be more circumspect? Did I not encourage you to diplomacy? Why will you not pay heed to me?’

‘I know why you were sent here. Your Grand Master, Thomas Bérard, thinks he is more powerful now than the Holy Father. You are here to make a secret treaty with the Tatars, is this not true? Should the Pope hear of your perfidy, he would withdraw his protection from your Order and you would all be destroyed!’

‘Threaten me all you want. I have a duty to perform and I intend to see it through. If you want this Khubilai to hear you out, you will have to trust me.’

‘Trust you? I would rather trust a serpent!’

‘Be that as it may, I have some news for you. The khan, it will please you to hear, wishes you to instruct his daughter in the Christian faith.’

William sat down heavily on his bed, astonished. ‘His daughter?’

‘Yes. So, regardless of what you think of me or my methods, I would suggest we have both made some progress this day.’

‘God be praised.’ William fell to his knees and whispered a short prayer of thanks. When he stood up again he seemed somewhat consoled. ‘Very well, Templar. I shall trust your devices for now. We are not to know God’s mysteries. Perhaps even one such as you may be His instrument.’

‘Thank you,’ Josseran said with a smile, and left the chamber, seething.