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told that the market is livelier there," Father Basil said.
Several of the soldiers looked wistful.
"Do you think it's too late to tell the prince that we want to be merchants,
not envoys of
Byzantium? It sounds easier," Bryennius commented.
Alexandra sighed. She watched the officials bow low to Li Shou. From here, she
could hear nothing of their conversation, but their postures and gestures were
so courteous, so mannered, that she suspected some sort of danger. She touched
her heels delicately to her horse, edging as far into the avenue as she could
without being stopped. Other women rode by, some brash and bareheaded. The
wide avenues teemed with people riding, walking, or being carried in
elaborately decorated, closed carts. Over the walls of the quarter she could
see the upcurved roofs of what looked like palaces.
With the air of a man making a generous and unde
Susan Shwartz served concession, Li Shou inclined his head to the official and
retraced his steps. A flush along his high cheekbones betrayed his annoyance.
"Ch'ang-an has changed if an official can challenge the word of a cousin of
the Son of Heaven,"
he hissed, and mounted so quickly that his horse sidled.
He leaned forward and ran a hand along its arched neck. Then he signaled for
them to move forward.
"Ordinarily," he told the Greeks, "visiting envoys who come to make submission
in their prince's name to the Son of Heaven-was
Alexandra laid a hand on Bryennius' reins, hushing the indignant outburst he
was about to make about the Basileus' demotion.
"How else could it be?" the prince asked. "When envoys come, they become the
responsibility of that man's office, which regulates the funerals of members
of the
Imperial family."
"Cheerful," Alexandra commented.
"It also maintains hostels for foreign guests like yourself. Lu Tsung
there"-he flicked his fingers at the retreating official's stiff back-"heads
up that office. When I told him that you were my guests, not his
responsibility, he was outraged."
"Do they suspect that we are spies?" Alexandra asked with all the innocence
she could summon.
"Idiots!" Li Shou snorted. "Because Lu
Tsung did well on the examinations, he climbed rapidly in the Emperor's
service. I
have had reports on him and his family. In
Canton, his elder brother locked away all foreigners; Lu Tsung seems to think
that if he follows his brother's advice, he will gain great face. He has
already doubled the guard to
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"protect" Ch'ang-an against barbarians."
"Isn't he succeeding?" cut in Father Basil.
"The Manichees have already been outlawed. Is there not some movement..."
Li Shou flung up a hand. Never had Alexandra seen him so angry. "A movement,
indeed.
Ch'ang-an has
"2*
silk roads and shadows always been fascinated by the West. I have looked
forward to reading you poetry like that of To Fu, of showing you the great
paintings of the Yen brothers, who claim to have painted scenes of your home.
Now men like Lu
Tsung want us to turn our backs on all we have learned from outside the Walls
of the Middle
Kingdom."
"Xenophobes," murmured Alexandra, then translated for the prince's benefit. It
sounded very familiar, very unwelcome. In such times, foreign guests were in
some danger, foreign faiths at more. It was chaos again, seeking to undermine
what order and cooperation it found, wherever it found them.
"You know that I have spent years collecting holy texts," Li Shou said.
"Buddhist, Taoist, a few Christian scriptures . . . last year, a scholar named
Li Ao died. He knew a great deal about Buddhism, had studied it for years just
in order to refute it."
Alexandra and Father Basil looked at one another.
Heresies. Religious conflict. And they were in the thick of it. Li Shou, they
knew, was heterodox, a true descendant of those Emperors who had endowed the
Nestorian churches in Ch'ang-an. But this new Son of Heaven . . dis8allyr
Emperor follows the Way?" Alexandra prompted, using the term Tao. The little
she had heard of this Way spoke of a retreat from the world, a unity with the
cosmos, order, and a simplicity that was almost pastoral.
Li Shou's eyes burned. "Later," he said.
Pastorals could also include a wolf in the fold, a wolf, in this case, who
might also be the shepherd.
It was not an idea she wanted to dwell on.
greater-than
He was silent as they rode past a lavish
Buddhist temple, its curved roofs painted red and gold. Outside crouched huge
statues that resembled dogs or lions, or both. Incense floated over the walls
and tantalized them.
Chanting and the sound of gongs rose. For an instant, Alexandra fancied
herself back in her long-gone, and unlamented, convent. This temple was so
rich! she thought. It seemed larger and more elaborate than the
Susan
Shwartz
Church of Hagia Sophia, that soaring sculpture of light, mosaic, and marble,
with its domes from which, some people claimed, angels descended to help the
priests serve worshipers.
Father Basil studied the temple avidly. "There must be hundreds like it. And
Buddhism is not native to Ch'in . . ."
"Think you Buddhism too could suffer?"
"As your Patriarchs did my own church." He nodded. "Surely you have heard
complaints that in
Byzantium the monks own too much land, too many armies, and slaves, and
control too much of the
City's gold."
It had been wealth that had enabled
Alexandra's aunt to purchase forbidden books, to bribe the people she must
have bribed: wealth that made her feel all-powerful, and bred first her
ambition, then her damnation.
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They rode slowly through the eastern market. Each trade had its own bazaar.
Except for the faces and the languages, the clamor and the familiar goods made
Alexandra feel much at home. Bryennius tossed cash to a flower vendor and gave
the chrysanthemums that he bought to Siddiqa, who laughed with delight.
Alexandra gazed in wonder at the number and kinds of people in the market:
Sogdians, Persians, Arabs, men of the steppes, Turks, even strange-looking men
in high black hats from a land she heard was called Korea; men with the dark
skins, aguiline features, and long eyes of Hind, and from farther south, from
the Land of Lions. Priests of ten separate faiths jostled merchants of all
races.
Nobles in carts or litters, or riding accompanied by servants thronged the
bazaars. Many were women, exquisitely dressed and painted, jade and gold
ornaments trembling in their hair. Seeing them, she felt unkempt and too
large.
She felt as if they stared at her and all her people, dismissing them as
barbarians-which they were not, appraising them as enemies-which they had no
wish to
be. But which, in one important sense, they had to be. Another enemy rode at
her side: the prince who had been friend and ally, and would now be their
host. It was a terrible crime to betray one's host.
Once past the market, they turned north and rode toward what looked like
official buildings near the walls over which they could see trees and palace
buildings.
"Administrative offices," Prince Shou observed.
"This Lu Tsung works in them?" she asked. "Perhaps we should ..."
"What are you suggesting?"
"If it causes you difficulty to accept us as guests," Alexandra began slowly,
"perhaps we should let ourselves be received by his people." Constant official
scrutiny would make stealing silkworms harder, perhaps impossible, but she
would not be betraying a man who deserved better.
"I will not give you up!" he interrupted, angrier than she had ever seen him.
"We will discuss this after we are settled."
Already, artisans stitched gowns and jackets for her.
Her rooms were bright with jewels and flowers, hair ornaments, and
embroideries. Alexandra had been bathed, and exclamations for her foreignness
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