The Divining

     "No!" he cried, jumping to his feet. "I will not hear it! Asmahan is alive. I have searched for five years, and I will search for the rest of my life if I must."

     "Iskander, listen to me—"

     "No!" he screamed, turning away, putting his hands over his ears.

     Ulrika rose to her feet and reached out for him, laying a hand on his arm. "I am sorry Asmahan is dead. But please believe me when I say she is in paradise."

     He turned bleak eyes to her. His shoulders slumped. "I believe you, for you have seen the sacred fire altar of Zoroaster. I believe in your gift. And I suppose I have known all along that my wife is dead. I should be happy that she is in paradise," Iskander said in a tight voice, "but I am not. Asmahan and I were robbed of a life together. And those vile men who camp down the mountainside will pay. I will no longer be satisfied with merely killing them, I shall torture them for days and see that they suffer greatly."

     "Iskander," Ulrika said softly, "listen to me. You are the last of your tribe. I saw that in my vision. Just as Veeda is the only survivor of her people. If you carry out this mission of revenge, you will surely get yourself killed. You have to think of your people, Iskander. Through you, they can still live. But if you die, then they will truly be dead."

     He covered his face with his hands and wept bitterly. Veeda came to him and took him into her arms. He sobbed on her shoulder as she held him tightly and made soothing sounds.

     Presently he collected himself and said, "You are right, Ulrika. If I slay my enemies and burn their village, someone will survive, and that man will spend the rest of his life in pursuit of me, until he kills me and my tribe is utterly erased. Yes, I have a duty to my ancestors to carry out revenge, but I have a greater duty to my descendants, and to Veeda, and to her people, for through us, our two bloodlines will continue."

     Ulrika placed her hand on his cheek. "Iskander, make Veeda proud to be the wife of a prince. Build your house and fill the rooms with many children, for you will be the founder of a new tribe." As she said this she recalled that, before arriving at this place, Iskander had pla

29

WHEN THE SNOW CAME, the three abandoned their camp in the ruins and lived for a while with Zeroun and his family while Iskander built a small house, after the tradition of his tribe. They lived there through the winter, Iskander continuing to build, helping with repairs on other houses, while Veeda entertained the villagers with her singing and dancing, and Ulrika helped nurse those who came down with winter fevers. She went daily to the stone archway, where she easily summoned the vision of the Crystal Pools of Shalamandar, and there she meditated and prayed, honing her spiritual gift and its power.

     At the first snowmelt, a caravan came from the north, and accepted Ulrika as a paying passenger.

     Iskander and Veeda were there to say good-bye, and she embraced them in love.

     When she said good-bye to Zeroun, she asked if he were the last of his kind. He said, "I am not the first Magus of Shalamandar, nor will I be the last. For as long as there are seekers of truth, there will be a Magus in this valley."

     As Ulrika took her place in the caravan, she thought of her newly discovered destiny.

     In Babylon, she would search for the Venerable Ones, and she would watch each day for news of a caravan making its return journey from distant China...

BOOK SEVEN

CHINA

30

THEY ARE CALLED DRAGON BONES," the third interpreter said to Timonides, "they predict the future."

     The Greek astrologer watched in fascination as the fortune-teller, a local man from a mountain village, smeared the ox scapula with blood, then inserted it into the hottest spot of the campfire. As everyone watched for the bone to crack and reveal a message from the ancestors, Timonides glanced over to where his son was preparing the night's di

     Timonides sent a silent prayer of thanks to the stars. His son was safe. Nestor's crime back in Antioch was behind them, and although the caravan was not far now from its destination—the Imperial Court of China—by the time they returned to Rome, Nestor and Bessas would be forgotten. The gods had clearly forgiven Timonides for falsifying horoscopes, he concludedgratefully. Perhaps they did not blame a man for wanting to protect his son.

     Pulling his cloak tighter about himself against the chilly spring night, Timonides pondered the miracle of being on the other side of the world. They were camped in the mountains, a great caravan of camels, donkeys, and horses, accompanied by men, women, and children, with herds of sheep and goats to feed the great crowd. Through towns and provinces, raging rivers and grassy valleys, mountain passes, harsh deserts, and forgiving plains, the Gallus caravan was always met with great curiosity and interest. From Persia through Samarkand, over the towering Pamirs, past the shifting red-gold dunes of the Taklamakan in the arid and formidable Tarim Basin, Timonides's master had shared meals with chieftains and potentates, humble shepherds and self-important kings, conducting trade and information. He drank curdled camel's milk and feasted on lamb kebab and onions, ending with sweet rice pudding with raisins. And when his caravan departed, Sebastianus took on travelers in need of protection: a family going to a wedding in Kokonor, envoys from Sogdiana carrying trade agreements to Tashkurgan, a group of monks who called themselves Buddhist missionaries carrying the teachings of their founder from India into China. The Gallus caravan camped in sun-seared deserts and blizzard-swept mountains; sought hospitality in villages and settlements comprised of nomads' tents and mud huts; and discovered, as they moved farther east, the delight of Chinese teahouses established for travelers. Now the caravan was camped in the Tsingling Mountains near Chang'an, with their destination, fabled Luoyang, a day away.

     Timonides glanced in the direction of his master, who sat at his own campfire, studying his most recently acquired map of the region. Timonides wondered briefly what was going through Sebastianus's mind—entertaining thoughts, no doubt, of Ulrika—and then Timonides returned his attention to the flames and the "dragon bone."

     As Sebastianus studied his map, he was momentarily distracted by an eruption of loud, drunken laughter. He looked up to see Primo and his men, sitting at their campfire, comfortably wrapped in warm cloaks and passing around a wineskin. We have come a long way, my comrades and I, Sebastianusthought. And soon we will see the wonders of a world no Roman has ever seen, a world called the Flowery Land.