The Roman Saga. Behind The Great Wall

– Chen Tang helped the entire Han Empire, – she spoke slowly. – Awful Zhi Zhi’s death is good for everyone. But he violated your order. And that’s bad for you, my master.

– What should we do?! – the Emperor asked impatiently.

– We need to reward and punish him at the same time, – Yu Wang answered calmly, as if it was so simple that it did not even require explanation. But Yuan Di froze and frowned, which said something completely different: he did not understand her. So she continued: – May the Wise Ruler forgive him. After all, he killed a terrible enemy, for many he is a hero. Everyone is talking about “Tian Ji races”26. He surprised many. Moreover, Chen Tang did not sell a single slave. They all belong to the Emperor. And the warriors again stand guard over the Great Wall, obeying the orders of the Master of the Celestial Empire.

– Okay, forgiveness is a reward, but where is the punishment? – he asked impatiently, not understanding what to do next. A faint smile touched his wife’s lips, but Yuan Di was so immersed in the picture she painted that he did not notice it.

– May the Buddha of our day show wisdom and appoint him to command those warriors, who were with him on this campaign. They listen to Chen Tang, consider him a hero, and will be glad to have him back. From Chang’an to Danhuang is a thousand miles. And there are no people, no cities, no women, no children, except the Xiongnu tribes on the other side of the wall. Let him continue to defend the Han Empire with the same zeal as he rushed to behead Zhi Zhi. Could there be a more honourable reward for a warrior than serving his Emperor? – she fell silent, waiting for her husband’s answer. He smiled slyly, hiding his hands in the sleeves of his robe, walked around the room again and muttered:

– Let’s make sure that “this horse doesn’t ruin the whole herd’,27 … – he said quietly and then loudly called the senior eunuch: – Shi Xian! – when the man knocked his forehead three times at the entrance, the Emperor added: – We will spend the evening in the Tower of Voluptuousness. – Let our wife be there after sunset!

This was a sign for everyone to leave the room. Left alone, Yuan Di ordered the three chief ministers to be summoned to him. It was time to tell them about his decision.

Lacius already felt better. Now all the Romans could already practise strikes and dodges. The strength returned, but the fear, driven inside, still reminded itself from time to time, when he was unable to quickly perform this or that movement. One late evening, the chief of security, Fu Xing, and several other warriors came to see them. Among them were two people, who seemed unfamiliar to Lacius. However, when he was taken out of the barn, he recognised one of them as the old guide Goju. In the light of the moon, he looked the same as many years ago – it seemed that he had not changed at all.

– I want to talk to you, – the old man said quietly and looked at Fu Xing. To Lacius’s surprise, the man bowed and stepped aside with the guards. – There will be a big holiday soon, – the guide said somehow strangely and fell silent.

– Yes, there will… – Lacius tensed internally.

– And you’ve already managed to find yourself an enemy, – Goju added just as quietly and outwardly indifferent.

– Is this your enemy, too? – he guessed. The old Xiongnu paused and answered briefly:

– Yes. He is the enemy of my friends, – then he turned to Lacius and continued: – You will be dressed in white shirts and pants. Opposite will be Wang Mang’s warriors in black robes.

– Who are they? Security?

– No, these are the servants of the Empress’s brother.

– Ah… Well, everything is clear, – he answered with understanding. – I remember them very well, – but it was not clear what the old man wanted from him. – Do you think we can defeat them? – it was impossible to hide the mockery, but Goju did not seem to notice this.

– No. This is impossible. They are good warriors. They will have sticks. But you can’t beat them. Even the weakest. You will have chains on your feet. All Romans will have it. They will hit you on the head. Like this, from above, – he showed movement with his hands. – Terrible hits. I saw them pierce right through the skull. But you won’t be hit hard. It’s a holiday. Should be fun. Therefore, at first, they will hit you weakly so that you fall.

– Oh, gods omnipotent! What are you saying? After all, the Emperor promised us… – Lacius paused, feeling that his words sounded ridiculous.

– What did you promise?

– He promised us life. But why are you saying this? What do you want from me?

– Not much at all. The Empress’s brother has many warrior servants. The eldest’s name is Yu Lai.

– Yes, I heard that name. He is good with a sword.

– Not only that. He wants to kill you. And he will kill you if you don’t do it first, – the old nomad lowered his voice: – One of your slaves survived. – Her name is Tertia. She’s pregnant. If you kill Yu Lai, I will save her and find her a man. The child will live, – he fell silent, waiting for Lacius’s decision. Lacius stood there, realising with horror that he had no way out.

– Well, have you buried me yet? – he asked quietly, but the nomad did not answer, continuing to wait for his decision. – After all, even if I kill Yu Lai, others will finish me off. Right? – silence was more eloquent than any answer. – Okay, – Lacius nodded his head, – but you’ll have to save two more people. There are two young men here. Their names are Mark and Zeno. It’s too early for them to die. Take them with you now!

– This is impossible. I can’t take them. It’s dangerous. If they survive, I’ll take them after the holiday.

– Alright, if they survive, will you definitely save them? Their mother’s name is Saet. She was also among the prisoners. Find her!

– You’re asking for the impossible. I will only help these two if they survive. Got it?

– Yes, – Lacius was forced to agree.

– Now listen. This warrior will have a sharp stick at the end. Not bamboo like others. This is solid wood. No hole inside. Very hard. And flexible. Doesn’t break. You will have bamboo. When they bring it to you, cut the edge so that it is sharp. Like this, – the old guide picked up a piece of bamboo from the ground and in one motion cut off the edge at an angle. The bevel was not sharp, but it could easily enter the body with a strong blow. Lacius shook his head doubtfully.

– How can we cut it? Are you kidding? No knife, – he tried to make out the expression on Goju’s face, but in the pale light of the moon nothing was visible – only the outlines of the beard and cheekbones. The old nomad suddenly handed him an object wrapped in leather. Lacius unwrapped the package and shuddered. It was one of those black knives that he had once made for himself. Zeno had the last of them! How could it be here?

– Where did you get it from? – he burst out.

– Found it in the city. Someone killed a strong warrior on the wall. With the knife in the neck. Deep, – the old man said this so calmly, as if he had accidentally tripped over it in the dust in the market square. – Everything could be found there.

– I see. If not with a stick, then with a knife? – Lacius guessed.

– Yes. You know how to throw a knife. Kill him anyway.

– Wait… but if I kill him, I’ll stay alive? Right? What’s next? – he asked carefully.

– You won’t stay. Others will kill you. No one is allowed to kill a Han warrior during the festival. Holidays are joy. You will be beaten and you will accidentally die. But you can’t kill him.

– Are you kidding? I have no choice?

– No. They’ll kill you either way. That’s why I brought you this knife. Fu Xing saw it. Chen Tang saw it. There are a dozen more warriors, who know that a very famous warrior was killed with this knife. So I give you your knife back deliberately. And if you kill Yu Lai with it, no one will think of me.

– Can we survive? – Lacius finally asked the old man, just in case.

– Hardly. Nobody needs such slaves. Nobody will buy you, – Goju paused. – You are needed for the holiday. You can defend yourself from a stick. You can fight for a long time. Until they take your head off. You can also put thick leather under your shirt. Buffalo’s skin. So you can last longer. Do you want to try it?

– You bet! I do! I wish I could live longer, – Lacius said slowly, thinking about the guide’s words. – Will you bring it?

– Yes. I’ll tell Fu Xing. Tomorrow, they will bring you the leather, but you’ll cut and tie it yourself in the barn. Don’t take it outside. And keep quiet. Make backless and sleeveless shirts like those worn by bearers.

– I understand you. If the gods help me, I won’t forget you. I promise! – Lacius said hotly.

– Well, well, – the old guide muttered something unclear. – Don’t forget about the senior warrior named Yu Lai! This is very important. He must die, – the guide said gloomily and slowly walked towards the Han guards. This ended their conversation, and Lacius, hiding the knife in his bosom, with difficulty dragged the iron ball back. Having reached the barn, he lay down right at the entrance and could not fall asleep for a long time, tossing from side to side and reflecting on the words of the old Xiongnu nomad, until Paul Domician, who was lying nearby, asked him:

– Has Morpheus deprived you of sleep? Is it really that bad?

– It seems so, – Lacius sighed. – The gods are playing their games again. —

– They always do like this. Do you remember Vargont and Atilla? Poor guys. The gods have their own entertainment. But if you don’t sleep, you won’t help anything. You’ll just get tired.

– That’s for sure, – Lacius agreed and closed his eyes. The sleep was heavy and long. He dodged right and left from blows to the face, but for some reason his hands did not rise up to help fight off the sharp end of the stick, which was aimed right at his eye. His inquisitive mind, as always in moments of mortal danger, looked for a way out and did not give up, trying to use every opportunity to survive. But death came closer and closer.

CHAPTER X. STICKS AGAINST SWORDS

The holiday in the capital of the Han Empire began early in the morning. The Romans understood this from the noise outside the walls of the governor’s house: cattle drivers shouted, carts creaked, mules lowed, horses neighed occasionally, and it was felt that there were much more people on the streets than on ordinary days. Lacius lay with his eyes closed on an old rug, made of thin straw, and for the thousandth time imagined protection with chains on his feet. There was little space in the barn, and they were forced to stand against the walls, practising blows and dodging them, first in different directions, and then back and forth. It was impossible to move here, but the Romans tried their best.

Finally, Lacius stopped and turned to Paul Domician to offer a prayer to the gods with him. The old singer agreed, and they spent the rest of the afternoon praying and talking about the help of the gods. Other Romans joined them, everyone prayed to different gods, so they often asked Lacius if they were right to ask the gods for help and whether they would listen to them if they did not make a sacrifice to them. Everyone was very worried, and it was surprising that no one blamed each other for their terrible situation.

Closer to noon, the chief of the guard, Fu Xing, and about two hundred servants came for them. All Romans were given whitish, washed robes, made of simple fabric and pieces of rope instead of belts. They quickly put on sleeveless leather shirts with a piece of board that Lacius had thought of attaching at the very bottom so that it would cover the groin. Goju helped with this too. Then everyone began to pull their white capes on top. They were of different lengths and widths, so they didn’t suit many people. Lacius and Zeno had it worst of all – their sleeves were longer than their arms and at the bottom they dragged along the ground. They had to cut them right here.

Finally, everyone was ready. Paul Domician was ordered to stay in the barn. The rest, right in chains, were brought to the first gate of the inner city and, after being counted, were brought inside. Some kind of performance had just ended there: people in red shirts were collecting yellow and red ribbons, bringing out large masks with predatory smiles and large pieces of fabric that looked like fish tails. From the entrance to the steps at the first building there was a wide, flat road lined with round white pebbles. On either side of it there was a large space with nothing but trampled earth and a row of stone benches. It was similar to a gladiator theater, only the seats for spectators were located not in a circle, but on one side.

Some important people in bright robes sat in the front rows, servants held umbrellas above them, and about a hundred courtiers crowded behind them. On the other side there was only a wall. There were thirty steps to the first row of spectators. The Emperor was not visible among those sitting. Lacius figured that, given the opportunity, it would be easy to throw a dart or spear there.

The Romans were lined up along the wall and began to distribute long bamboo sticks. Lacius looked longingly at his comrades, realising that he would not be able to use the knife and help them now. He was afraid that he would not be able to help even himself. The chains turned them into living targets for beatings. At that moment, a large stretcher with a fringed roof appeared in the distance. All the courtiers fell to their knees. The Romans were also forced to bury their faces in the ground. It was the Emperor. His stretcher was placed right in the center, moving apart the places, where important dignitaries sat. After this, the Romans were ordered to rise.

– Don’t get too close! Two steps! Follow me! Hit only in the groin! As you were taught! – Lacius shouted to Marcus and Zeno, when the drums began to sound. The officials became agitated, began to discuss something and point to the Romans. Some nodded to the side – there, from behind small buildings, on the steps of which there were also spectators, people in black robes began to emerge. Lacius immediately saw among them the servant of whom Goju had spoken. His name was Yu Lai, he remembered. Kneeling before the Emperor, the black warriors touched their foreheads to the ground three times and greeted him. Then they crawled back and stood up. Several servants with sticks ran up to them. Lacius could see that these sticks were different from theirs – they looked like thick nuts.

– Listen, my stick is broken! – Lucro suddenly exclaimed in fear. He leaned on it and the wood cracked in the middle. Lacius pressed his and saw the same thing. Zeno and Mark also pressed sticks to the ground and saw cracks.

– Break it in the middle! – Lacius ordered briefly, finding the membrane and pressing on it with his foot. Throwing away the broken part with a crack, he tossed the other half in his hand and sighed with relief – it was much more convenient, because. when shortened. they looked more like swords. Soon all the Romans followed his example, and they had short bamboo sticks in their hands.

– Now it’s easier. It’s good that there is no one from behind. We’ll fight back, – Lucro remarked joyfully, feeling more confident. There was a dissatisfied noise from the spectators, but Lacius could not see what was happening there. However, from the angry faces ten steps away from him, he guessed that the black coats did not expect such a turn of events.

The beating of the drums sounded again, and the Han warriors began to approach the Romans, holding sticks outstretched like spears in front of them. They were longer and more dangerous than their bamboo counterparts. Lacius quickly looked around. It looked like they weren’t going to be herded into a bunch or forced to run around holding a chain with a ball in one hand and a stick in the other. This was much better. And besides, there was no one behind either, nothing but high walls.

The first blows fell like hail, but they could still be repelled, because the attackers were clearly playing around and did not take them seriously. Therefore, the Romans were able to evade and repel their blows without difficulty. It was more difficult when they hit my legs – it was impossible to dodge with chains on their ankles. But here it was possible to at least put the bamboo in the way of blow and reduce the force of it.

So far, as far as Lacius could see, no one had been hit in the head. Yu Lai, who was standing in front of him, was clearly playing around and hitting half – heartedly, grinning and showing that he was having fun. For him everything was already clear. After some time, the black – robed warriors stepped back and stopped. From the audience, the loud voice of the Empress’s brother, to whom they obeyed, was heard, and now his servants had to show something different.

Lacius almost missed the first blow, although he managed to lean back with his whole body. Yu Lai struck it a little earlier than he expected, and the sharp end stopped three fingers away from his forehead. Then the warrior began to make lunges one after another. Just like everyone else. The attackers tried to hit the Romans only in the head or chest. Several times Lacius heard dull sharp blows and groans, and he realised that these were accurate hits from soldiers in black robes. But no one of the Romans was lying on the ground yet.

The strong Yu Lai, oddly enough, began to get tired. His strong blows lost their speed, he tried to put all his strength in each of them as if he was hitting for the last time in his life, so soon the first drops of sweat appeared on his face, his eyes narrowed, and his mouth opened slightly. He began to breathe heavily. The short beard shook funny as it moved, and Lacius wanted to grab it and pull it with all his might. However, it was impossible to reach Yu Lai.

A sharp scream from the left made him look in that direction for a moment. Mark received a strong blow to the head and was now sitting on the ground, holding his chin. The satisfied Chinese raised his stick to finish him off from above, but collided with Lucro, who had come from nowhere. Now the boy managed to repel the attacks of two attackers. It was incredible.

Lacius jerked towards him to help, and he himself received a blow to the chest of such force that he immediately fell on his back, dropping his stick. Everything swam in his head; he felt nauseous in his throat and had an unpleasant taste in his mouth. Yu Lai, without hiding his pleasure, leaned over him, but, not seeing the blood, he frowned sharply. Tugging at the hem of his robe, he saw a leather breastplate and froze for a moment.

– A – ah – ah! – there was a hoarse cry. – Protection! You are protected! – fury flashed in the warrior’s narrow eyes. Turning his head to the side, he shouted to his comrades: – Hit them in the head! They have bibs! – at the same time, he looked in surprise at the sharp end of his stick. It had to break through even such skin. The enemy must be dead! And then he noticed the medallion. Only this piece of wood could stop such a blow. Yu Lai pulled it from Lacius’s neck and shook it above his head. – This is his defense! – he shouted loudly. – Now he has no protection! – I’ll kill you, – he added angrily, putting a leather strap around his neck. Lacius did not have the strength to answer. Feeling for his stick, he stood up and hit the man with all his might on the leg just above the knee. The warrior screamed in pain and jumped back. This gave Lacius time to get up.

The omnipresent Lucro was nearby again. He had just fought off two warriors attacking him, hitting them exactly in the groin, and while they were crawling back under the dissatisfied cries of the spectators, he barely reached Lacius, dragging his chain behind him. Swinging, he wanted to hit Yu Lai on the head, but Yu Lai was an experienced fighter and managed to substitute a stick. The second blow, a little weaker, landed between his legs. Gasping, Yu Lai doubled over and stepped back.

– Hit between the legs! Weak point! – Lucro shouted to Lacius and hurried to the aid of Mark, who had come to his senses. Out of the corner of his eye, Lacius managed to notice several white coats on the ground. This meant that the long sticks of the Han people got to the Romans. Not everyone had time to dodge their attacks. Strange, but many continued to fight as before. No one stopped the battle, the Emperor and his servants kept silence and did not order to remove the leather breastplates from the Romans.

– Drop the medallion! – he shouted loudly to Yu Lai, who, holding his crotch, apparently was not yet ready to attack. – You can’t wear it. You will die! Trust me! – the man stopped, smiled wryly and stepped back. Instead, two other warriors attacked Lacius. They were not so fast and experienced, and he managed to snatch the sticks from them with his bare hands, and then deal two blows to their heads.

Yu Lai stepped over the bodies of his comrades writhing on the ground and raised the medallion to his eyes. His lips stretched into a predatory smile, and hatred froze in his narrowed eyes. Pressing his chin to his chest, he rushed forward. However, his attacks now no longer seemed to Lacius as fast and terrible as before. He saw all the movements and dodged before he could throw out his stick for defense. The rest of the black-robed warriors were also tired, but most of the Romans still continued to stand in front of them like invulnerable shadows.

Finally, Yu Lai stepped back and shouted something, raising his hand above his head. The audience fell silent. The Empress’s brother Wang Mang approached the imperial stretcher and, kneeling down, also touched the ground with his forehead three times. Yu Lai crawled behind him on his knees. The Emperor asked them something. It was mainly Yu Lai, who answered.

Lacius saw him remove his medallion from his neck and hand it to one of the servants. After some time, it was returned, and Yu Lai put it around his neck again. Then they both crawled back and stood up. Warriors in black robes stood with their backs to them. The Empress’s brother ordered something to Yu Lai, making a decisive gesture with his hand. Servants with short sticks at the ready appeared again in the distance.

– Take the swords! – a loud command sounded. Silence hung in the air. The Romans realised that they would now be killed.

– We didn’t agree like that, – Lucro said with fear for the first time in a long time. – He glanced at Lacius, but he himself saw that the situation was becoming hopeless.

– Wang Mang! – Lacius shouted loudly, addressing the thin official standing behind the servants. – The Emperor promised us life. Everyone. You are breaking the Emperor’s order.

There was an awkward silence, and the warriors began to turn to their master in confusion. He slowly approached Lacius and, stopping two steps away, calmly answered:

– The Emperor believes that your strength was in the medallion. Now the Wise Ruler wants to see how you can fight without it, – his words were accompanied by an even, calm look, without anger or irritation, as if they were talking about the colour of the clay under his feet.

– This medallion cannot be worn. He brings death. Your warrior will die, – Lacius tried to tell the truth, but not a single muscle moved on Wang Mang’s face. He just shook his head, as if agreeing with some of his thoughts, and stepped back.

– Kill them! – the order sounded, and a long black line moved forward.

– Give us the swords! – Lacius shouted in despair, but in response there was a satisfied laugh from Yu Lai. His warriors easily beat off the Romans’ sticks with their swords and knocked them down. But they didn’t kill them. And they didn’t even try to hurt. It was like a mockery to show the weakness and infirmity of the unarmed prisoners.

Lacius has also been on earth three times already. Getting up with difficulty once again, he saw that the enemy was ready to hit him again with the flat of his sword on the head and push him with his hands in the chest so that he would fall. Yu Lai was too close, and smiled joyfully, anticipating a quick end. Lacius pulled forward a stick, which he had already split with several previous blows, and swayed on bent knees, feigning fatigue and helplessness. Believing in his impunity, Yu Lai lost his vigilance and casually struck the stick with his sword, trying to knock it out of Lacius’s hands. But the sword met no resistance and fell into the void. The warrior momentarily lost his balance and fell to one knee, still holding the sword in front of him. Lacius hit it from above with all his might and knocked him out of his hands. The second blow of the split stick landed right on the knot of hair on Yu Lai’s head, and although he did not lose consciousness, he unexpectedly fell on all fours and froze. When he raised his head, a sword blade touched his neck.