The Golden Peony

By Robert Sullivan

Book 2 in a series of 4 - The Long Journey of Agymah Chahine continues. Agymah and his comrades begin their long return to their homeland of Egypt. North across seas of bronze to the land of the Q’in and on to the court of the Khan. They travel endless seas of grass and flowers and see many wonders - the great wall in the clouds, where battlements spun with mist curl across distant peaks unto the far horizon; the mighty city of Chongqinq, its heart thundering with the roar of a great host of voices; the Mongol, his horn bellowing, his arrow darkening the skies, his sword sharp and swift; and the mighty Yellow River, its swirling waters dark and filled with malice. There is much yet to tell of Agymah’s story, and much hardship and danger still must he face - the evil intent of Dong Yun, the icy wastes of the Tien Shan and the beasts beneath; and the seas of Sand and Blood. All must be vanquished if he is to return safely to his homeland.

“Far to our left we saw a wave of horsemen stream over the top of the hill, banners red and gold in the light of the evening sun. It was the Golden Peony and her band, their horns sounding as they raced to join the caravan. But the thunder of hooves that came behind was greater than that of the Golden Peony and her warriors, and we watched as the top of the hill filled with horses and men, clothed in furs, long spears held aloft, tipped with ribbons streaming in the wind. I felt a stab of fear at my throat for I knew, as did every man of our caravan, that I looked upon a Mongol horde, greater than two score, mayhap even three score, the peak of the hill a churning mass of horses and men and waving lances. Even from a great distance we heard Mongol horns, not sweet as is the bell of the horns of the Q’in, but as if the bellow of a mighty oxen. A finger of ice caressed my body.”

“All but five score of warriors now rode against the Mongol on two fronts, short bows to hand, sharp arrows showering upon the furred horsemen of the west. But the Mongol also loosed many arrows. I saw Q’in warriors fall, struck in the eye or at the throat, or falling as their horses fell, with arrows striking at their legs and shoulders. But many Mongol also fell, sharp arrows piercing tunics of fur and leather and striking horses in throat and body. The air was filled with the thunder of the hooves of many horses and the screams of the Mongols, the screams of wounded horses, the shouts of Bo Mingyu and Dong Yun and those of the Q’in warriors and the roaring of the horns. I heard also the screams of my comrades and that of my own throat, though, truth be known, I screamed in fear.”

“I leapt forward and struck my sword against that of the pale fox, seeking that I might halt his attack, such that I might then turn and throw myself against he of the long body. But the pale fox struck with a greater speed than I, his blade crashing upon my right arm in a cold blaze of pain, and my sword was thrown unto the mud beneath. The Mongol of the long body leapt forward, and I knew in that moment, even as I sought again for my sword, that the Gods now called upon me. Above me the Mongol rose, sword high...”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Sullivan
• Release date: Mar 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370619627

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The Golden Peony

Robert Sullivan

Copyright © 2017 by Robert Sullivan

Table of Contents

1. We sail north

2. Omar’s eye

3. Partha

4. The Ha’ka

5. Liu Sheng barters with Naguib

6. We travel west on horses with short legs and sturdy bodies

7. The Q’in

8. Naguib takes mai’tai with Bo Mingyu

9. Seas of grass stretch endless unto the horizon, strewn with yellow flowers

10. The days and nights grow cold

11. The wall in the clouds

12. Mongol

13. The Golden Peony

14. Xian

15. The battle of Denfu lane

16. To the court of the Great Khan

The Land of the Q’in

2151BC

We sail north

(Here is written the first night of words of the second chronicles of Agymah Chahine of Abydos – these words are scribed by Khuyb, Daughter of Agymah, in the City of Memphis in the fourth year of the Ox.)

Five moons have journeyed through the skies since last my daughter sat before me and in this time much has come to pass. She is now betrothed to the hapless Imhotep who, though perhaps a businessman of some cunning, is of but modest intelligence. Indeed he is blessed that my daughter has grown so fond of him, for it is she most certainly who will steer the fortunes of that family. Sometimes I think that he has the brain of a sheep. And even then I am too generous. But now I see that I have said too much, and the sharp eye turns towards me. But I see also a smile at the corner of the mouth, for my daughter knows that I jest. Mostly. It is as I have said before. Who am I to judge the lives of others, or the journeys upon which their heart might take them, for the heart, as it is for all men, is something that still I scarce understand. But even for one so clumsy as I you will see, as my story unfolds, that I have indeed been fortunate.

At this thought I cast my eyes to my wife of so many years. She sits at her bed as I speak, watching me, a smile upon her face, her comb passing through her hair, that even now is dark as pitch and shining with light, and so long that it reaches unto her waist. Surely, her name is Eti. And so it has been for so long that sometimes I can forget that her name and her life were once so different. I have oft wondered if the happiness and joy we have shared is such that it could replace all that she forgave when she came to me. I look again at her face, so different from mine and from those of my countrymen, but a face of grace and beauty, and one that I have loved so dearly for so long. Yes. The Gods have smiled upon me.

So what is it that has come to pass? To my surprise my old friend Naguib came to our house during the autumn floods. It was good to see my friend, though his withered stump gave him great pain in the cool of the evenings and he limped badly, such that whenever we ventured forth it was indeed a slow and ponderous procession. To the dismay and scolding of my family we spent many nights with Nedemeb, remembering our journeys and the many friends that were made and lost during those perilous times. Needless to say these were fine nights, though the days that followed were oft vile and dark. Indeed, so vile and dark that I am sure the scolding of my wife and daughter could be heard in Thebes. It is for this reason that I have not eaten of dates or dried meats for many days, and my bowels now are settled. But it is yet a small comfort, for each night my wife places before me a thin soup of pumpkin and barley. A soup without spice, and of little taste. It is truly terrible. But my physician tells me that it must be as succour to my bowels, and he speaks truly. The soup is more of water than of pumpkin or barley but I fear, if I do not heed the physician’s call, that I never again might I taste of my wife’s stuffed dates. Of the spiced almonds or salted fish, of hot breads or honeyed cakes, or the other foods that I love to eat. I can only pray that this does not come to pass.

I have spoken with Naguib and told him of my daughter’s wish and that she should scribe our tale and tell of our journey and its adventures. I said also that in the telling of the tale it did bring unto me many memories, some of great happiness but also some of great sadness. Naguib placed his hand upon my shoulder and said unto me ‘Yes Agi, our journey was filled with many adventures. We knew great happiness, and also great sadness. But so also was it a great quest, asked of us by the Pharaoh. It was a mighty journey, so much that sometimes it is hard to believe it to be true, but so it was and you should speak of it with pride. It is a great tale, one such that when any man’s eye falls upon the papyrus he also will see the grace of the Pharaoh and the courage of our comrades. Our journey was long and many of our comrades fell, far from their homeland. Some unto the seas, others unto the deeds of other men, some unto intemperance, some unto greed. But never should we forget our comrades. All must be honoured and in the telling of the tale so will this be.’

But now I see that I have tarried long, that my daughter’s foot begins to tap, that her ink tipped cane draws dark circles upon the papyrus. Her hair, as that of her mother, as black and shiny as pitch, falls across her face and cascades at her back, her almond eyes are upon me. It is time that I continue my story.

* * *

As we sailed north from the golden isles we followed the coast of Gond for many days. It was clear that the hot season fast approached for the days grew ever warmer. And in the late afternoon, when the day was so warm that we had shed all of our now tarnished leathers, the clouds would darken and the heavens open, sending down torrents of rain, so thick and so heavy that I could not see even unto the foredeck. But such torrents were short lived and, after no more than a few moments, the clouds would part and bring forth the sun and the decks would steam as they dried.

The rains were a welcome relief from the boiling heat of the sun, and also an opportunity to cleanse our bodies and to fill our water barrels. At night we slept upon the decks, our bedding lying where the cages of the mighty Beasts had rested. And without the cages of the Beasts our ship seemed larger, the decks longer and wider. Our ship now rode the waters with ease, moving freely with the winds and the waves and turning lightly as we steered across the breeze. The coast of Gond lay dark and low to our port side as we sailed north, passing small islands, clotted with trees and shrubs, past the wide mouths of rivers that poured forth muddy fresh water into the seas, past long and endless mudflats peopled with tall birds that stood upon stilt-like legs, their long beaks digging in the mud for small creatures. Sometimes we could see the smoke of fires, far behind the trees of the shoreline, but never did we see again the Men of Earth and Straw.

The waters stretched blue and endless before us, a firm breeze held to our stern, driving us forward through frothing waves of blue and white and sometimes, when we journeyed into shallow waters, over white sands, curling greens and soft blues, the colours as bright as stones of jade or lapis lazuli. Each day, as the sun fell towards the horizon, we put to the shore, our anchor fast in the sand as we lay off small islands or sandy bays, the waters around us alight in the colours of the evening, greens, blues, yellows and purples, as if a mighty scarab swam beneath us. There were many nights that I felt the tears in my eyes as I gazed upon the colours of my homeland.

But however beautiful the waters about us, I knew in my heart that great peril waited beyond the horizon. And thus it was, that after ten days of clear skies and stiff breezes, we came upon what we were to call the ‘low isles’. For indeed they were low, so low that only when the tide turned could they be seen, their jagged teeth cutting white through the sea as it surged around them. And at full tide their sharpened claws were hidden below the waves, not more than a bright flicker of colour beneath the rolling seas, yet able to tear the heart from our mighty ship in but a moment.

And the ‘low isles’ were many. So many. We had long sailed in clear seas, but when we awoke on the morning of the tenth day the ‘low isles’ lay to all sides. So many that no matter how we turned our mighty ship it seemed that before us lay even more danger. At each side the waves dashed upon rocks of green and black, of red and yellow and white, yet touched also with colours of rose and purple. Beneath the seas we saw strange curling shapes that were as if trees, curling one upon the other such that they were greater in girth than is our dhow, and coloured also in soft roses and greens and blues. Indeed there was great beauty in the ‘low isles’ but also great menace. Naguib called for us to run to the sails. ‘There is danger here’ he cried. ‘For the rocks are sharper even than the swords of our Pharaoh, and will cut the heart from our ship in but a moment. We must take care.’

For greater than a half score of days we sailed the ‘low isles’. Naguib called for all sail to be bound unto the masts, keeping only the smallest sail open above us, filled only the smallest breath of wind, our pace not more than that of a snail. We moved slowly between the ‘low isles’, Naguib holding firm to the tiller arm and steering us past shoals and strange rocky uprisings. Gase and Isesi hung from the bow, calling forth a warning when danger neared. Each night Naguib took our ship close by an isle, seeking the shallows where we might better place our anchor yet ride safely upon the tides.

On all sides of our ship we saw waters that teemed with life. So many fish and of so many colours that it seemed a rainbow flowed through the waters beneath us. We saw crocodiles, larger even that those of the Nile, and turtles, or at least creatures that reminded us of the small, long necked Nile tortoise, but many times larger, as large as a man and with a beak that snapped as does that of a bird. One day, as our ship sailed slowly between the outcrops of rock, we watched two of these large creatures swim through a school of tiny bright fish, their sharp beaks taking many. There were strange long winding creatures that lay in the rock crevices, waiting for small fishes to swim by; enormous round fishes, mayhap the size of a camel and the colour of lead, that hung in the water, their tiny fins barely moving; sharp toothed fishes of silver, as long as my sword, their speed greater than that of the fastest arrow. Truly these were wondrous seas and we fed well, the Nubians casting spears laced with rope, Naguib and Isesi also casting a sharpened hook caught with twine, the barb honed on Minkaff’s vats and impaled with a small lump of the runtish pig. We watched as the schools of fish swarmed to the hooks. So many did we catch and eat.

So slow was our passage that it seemed that the ‘low isles’ were endless, that they might stretch unto the end of the world. But it was not so and at last we came to the place where they were no more. This we could see from the colour of the water, for the soft blues and greens of the ‘low isles’, the sandy floor of the sea and the strange but beautiful colours were all become the darkest green, a colour we knew to mean deeper waters. As the Omars and Isesi ran to the foredeck and loosed the sails I again felt the hand of fear touch me. A score of days and more had passed since we set forth from the Golden Isles, yet our journey seemed peaceful and without great danger. The gods had not sported with us. Even the ‘low isles’ had shown us no anger.

At last, after many days had passed, the coast of Gond fell away behind us, our sails stretched firm and white in the breezes, our ship skipping lightly across the blue water. Many times we saw large fishes of the sea, racing beside the bow of our mighty ship, their bodies smooth and sleek, leaping through the water and the waves. One of the Nubians made ready to spear one of the fish but Naguib made motion with his hand. He told us that these fish were messengers and guides and that no mariner must harm them. He said we should follow where they lead, that they would take us safely unto our destination. I recall that Minkaff looked at Naguib when he spoke of the fishes. ‘But what is our destination Naguib. Do you believe that these fishes will guide us until we come again unto Egypt?’

Naguib snorted and laughed. ‘Of course not. But they will lead us safely on the next part of our journey. I am sure that you too will see the truth of this before many days more have passed.’

* * *

For greater than two score of days we sailed north, the sun ever hotter upon our shoulders. Before us stretched a boundless ocean, the colour of bronze and lead. Each day the rains came, falling as if from a waterfall, until the sun sprang once again from the clouds and the steam and heat rose from the decks of our mighty ship such that we could not breath. Much water did we capture from the rains but our stores of food were soon gone. The dried runtish pig we ate until there was no more. Then we ate of fish and the few berries that remained of those we had gathered on the Golden Isles. Indeed it was that some of the berries we gathered were filled with a poison for, after eating of these berries, the faces of Omar the Centurion and Isesi became yellow and green, and they could not hold their food for many days. Two of the Nubians were also afflicted and indeed did look quite strange, their dark skin turned unto the colour of ash, their eyes bulging and yellow. But the fruits and berries also were soon gone and so we looked unto the many small islands that dotted the seas around us.

When the winds were fair and the seas light beneath our keel Naguib brought our ship to land, close against one of the small islands. Minkaff and the Omars went forth and brought down many large birds, almost of the height of a man, with sharp beaks and short wings, with long legs and heavy clawed feet and with body as large as that of the runtish pig. These Minkaff called the ‘Devil Birds’, for they indeed were fierce and fearless and so of great danger. Their call was as if the ten horns of the Pharaoh had sounded as one and, if one was to throw itself upon you in a rage, it’s claws and long sharpened beak were such as to strip the flesh from your bones and the eyes from your head in but a moment. It was so named by Gase to be the spawn of the Devil.

But when brought down with spear or arrow and cooked by Minkaff, with oil and salt and fragrant leaves, its flesh was firm and filled with juices, its taste as that of a goat. It was welcome fare after so many days of runtish pig and fish. Minkaff and the Omars also collected the eggs of these birds, each as large as is a full goat skin and such that when broken into one of Minkaff’s vats and cooked among the coals in the evening each egg gave of so much food as to ease the hunger of four men. Minkaff stored many eggs in his cabinets below the foredeck.

Twice Naguib brought us to the shore of other small islands and we set forth and collected more fruits and berries. Isesi also brought down three tall birds with stilt-like legs and pink feathers and long necks. We ate well that night. Sometimes we would gather nuts and berries and fruits, trusting that we might eat of each without fear of illness. Of course this did not happen and many times we saw our brethren at the railing, their dinner spilling into the sea, their faces the colour of rotting papyrus.

Now it was that when we first sailed forth from the Port of Heliopolis our crew numbered one score and four. Of this number many had perished on our journey to the Golden Isles, some by ill fortune, others by the evil deeds of their comrades. Some had leapt into the sea, seeking to return unto their homes or to avoid the wages of their sins. We knew not what their fates had been. Mayhap they had been able to swim to land, may the Gods be merciful, or mayhap they were taken by the creatures of the ocean. We did not know. But so many of our comrades had we lost that now we must sail our mighty ship with all but a half of the crew that had set forth.

It was with this thought that I cast my eye upon my comrades of these many days past. When we boarded our ship in the darkness in Heliopolis we were all strong men. Battle hardened and well trained. And hardy and strong after so many days amid the dry sands and the boiling sun of the Empty Quarter. But as I looked about me I could not see such men. No. The men that stood at the railing, or lounged against the sternpost, were greatly changed. Yes, we had toiled long and hard in the service of the Pharaoh such that our bodies were lean and strong and our skins browned by the desert sun. But the men around me were stronger, harder men, their bodies stripped of fat such that muscles and sinews, even bones, were clear beneath the skin; a skin now darkened to the colour of pitch, such that when Sione and Omar stood near to each the other, they were as brothers. The teeth and eyes of all on board were yellow and bright; our hair no longer brown and dark but streaked with gold and red; our faces covered by long beards, also streaked with gold and red; our hands of such strength as to be greater than that of the water oxen and curled like the claws of the eagle. In truth, sometimes when I looked upon my comrades, from even a small distance, it was only by their scars that I could know the Nubians. If not for the scars then all men looked as one to me.

Ah yes, of course, I jest a little. For as you know, the Nubians did not grow beards. Neither did all Nubians grow hair upon their heads as did I and my other comrades. Many of the Nubians still shaved all hair from their heads and from their bodies. Others filled their hair with oil and pitch. Isesi, being sometimes of soft mind and oft a pest, one night touched a flame to the head of Mashane which, being coated in mud and pitch, began to burn. There was much screaming by the Nubians and water was quickly thrown upon Mashane. Mashane’s head was not wounded, for the mud and pitch was a paste of great thickness. But this did not spare Isesi, for Asan and Gase then beat him such that he ran unto the