On the surface the near outbreak of plague, the raging famine in Yuzhou was of much concern to them. With its growing casualties and blood curdling human suffering at fore, it would have been only natural for Lord Wei to summon an urgent meeting of the Grand Elder’s Council. And on the surface, it had. For a while.
“…since half of the Jinghai’s well known personage were already present for my grandson’s capping ceremony, it was only natural for us to proceed from there to these more secluded corners to conduct this formal affair. I beg your pardon, all too clear as I stand, that much of the theme for todays table is unpleasant, sordid at best. The famine sees no respite – and at this moment, the whole town of Anshui has been barricaded for some while.”
The location was still in Wei’s premises; time, on the very day of that auspicious occasion. Like an aged piece of threadbare brocade, with their proper manners and airs, and silver strands of age crowned over their head – although not much could be seen in that chamber, but a sniff of resemblance, a repertoire of ease and discomfort at the same time hung overhead – these men were seated with a shared sense of despondency.
“…though we see no results, as of what we had expected from such great a measure –”
This declaration cued some shifting in the audience; rustling of fabrics followed screeching’s of pulled out chairs, gasping of some sort, a cough or two with clearing of throats. All instruments seemed to be being checked and ascertained to see them fully functioning. The nervousness was palpable.
“Anshui, their inhabitants, and their recent antagonism – we have plenty time to talk of all that. But let’s talk of the unjust uprising we have been affronted with in the south first–”
Warm chairs, biting coldness and darkness of a chilly, rainy day - the plague, as it turned out, was of less importance than the growing unrest in the southern Dajin; Lord Wei left no doubt in others mind of his growing concern over this particular event which he foresaw as a call of something more devilish. At that moment, the sunlight slowly crept down from the roof, stealing stealthily from the window panes, arousing every face to have a feature, all the shadows lost to show those haloed faces of twelve men in that cold chamber.
“Those barbarians in the south wouldn’t agree to renew the Agreement pact of their subordination to Dajin; they were particularly unhappy with current state of their affairs even before the famine. Since this region lies under our jurisdiction, we were to negotiate with them in the coming winter, but no one could have foreseen such a bad turn of events. The famine followed drought, a plague is at hand, the barricade can only save us only for a while. Now, we have been informed that we can see some uprising in nearby regions affiliated with the barbarian chief. Furthermore,’ here he looked pertinently at someone at the end of the table with his eagle like sharp eyes, “some young men from capital and Jinghai have added fuel to this raging fire, and the call for a separate recognition of this region has been successfully pushed anew inside the court. The age-old promise of the previous emperors is now being flagged and unearthed to ask for renewed recognition; you go and ask them what they desire, more than ever you will hear them utter this common sentiment – the fire clan of south wants autonomy. As their ancestors had in the past.”
With this bristling brisk introduction to current affairs, there was a moment of silence. A few coughs, a little movement in the dark – yet no one rose to speak.
The court was still in chaos. The king was ill; the crown prince drowning in his own sorrows at the untimely death of his only offspring, the future heir to the crown, had relegated all his duties to others. An untimely nuisance but of a great consequence at present times. While the Dowager Empress Song – a figure of constant disregard inside the court herself – held a heavy title suitable to lead, but having no disposition suitable for that office or courage to set all things right, was finally left to her own comfort despite the urgency of the circumstances.
As such, quite naturally the second prince – the only other adult prince in the current Harem – had to take up the great responsibility of directing the court at such a tense moment of outer and inner unrest in the nation.
But Lord Wei, as he finished opening the meeting with all affairs explained to keen ears, had a niggling doubt which he did voice in shaded words and allusions – his senses screamed of incongruity, and all incrementing evidence supporting his fancies aligned, he had found that the present of what he saw itself sketched a very different kind of reality. Rather than facing a mutiny of some sort in south, he feared another kind of unrest, something that was both out of his hand and completely unstoppable. And, specifically somewhere in the east.
“So, gentlemen, we must not forget the east as we wrestle with the south issue. We have such formidable neighbors like Temeir’s losing their wars at present times there, it’s only right for us to dwell some more on those grounds. With that, let’s begin our meeting – hoping that such great minds as are present with us today, with their keen insights on the raging pulses of world will serve as answers to our predicament.”
Lord Wei finished with his low voice, never halting in his languid tone. His eyes finally found all the occupants searchingly, trying to glean any recourse, any alternative that hadn’t already sifted through in his own mind. He did know a little more than he let on. There was much mischief in current affairs. Some from the court itself, while some certainly did come from a foreign intervention. but he was also aware, the majority in the room had already gleaned some of that, if not all.
In perspective though, if it were the intentions of the Gods above, then what could he, a mortal do? If they desired chaos, they got chaos; and when the battlefields strewn with broken bones and flesh of humankind, and rotting carcasses of once dignified men became an inevitability, Lord Wei could then at least save his conscience of having any heavy pangs by saying, ‘look, they left me nowhere to go. I could have only done that, wouldn’t have I?!’
A cowardly sentiment, but the times had chiseled out all his rough edges and left him with no impression of his youthful bravery. And it wouldn't even be the first time that such an incongruous event had been demanded of him. He had sacrificed much; counted more black heads leaving under white sheets from under the glazed tiles of Weijia, six-feet under the ground, than he cared to count.
Sometimes, even with his loyal heart bowed down in low obeisance to his great Masters in the heaven, with their omniscient gazes, and all knowing hearts, he was pushed to doubt if the Gods he had talked with were actual Gods not demons themselves impersonating them. Now, there was no doubt left of their being the gods, immortals; he could only mourn that he had met some of the most malevolent kind in the bunches. There was a decided selfishness of purpose in their brows and deeply entrenched indifference to human suffering in their dealings. Malevolent spirits, weren’t they like that in old tales?
Here, though Lord Wei was aroused from his ponderings by a gentle tap.
“Lord Wei, are you sure that you have guessed it right? That there will be a war in Daxia?” The speaker was a gentle looking man, his beard touching the table surface. His sonorous voice entrenched in worry captured everyone’s attention. “How will it affect us, if say, the last Jing landholdings lose their current battles like the Temeir’s? Those people will surely want to enter Dajin by that time. Are we certain, that the battle will not reach our frontiers? Will the mutiny in Daxia settle down before it reaches us of the east?”
‘Did the gods desire the upcoming war between Dajin and Daxia so bad, even at the cost of eventually burning out all their feverous devotees in Daxia?’ this question seized their imaginations yet no lips dared to utter this blasphemy.
“Unfortunately…I am not.” Lord Wei rubbed his face and then he stood up from his chair. He walked up to the window sill, peering through the grey lands. “Yet I dare say, no one of us CAN be, Master Song. The things of our great Masters are not to be thought of by us mindless human beings, with all our limited human senses. All I can say is that, let’s not rush to any conclusions yet. There is a need for preparations yes, but let’s steer clear from ‘guessing’ what their intentions are or are not.” There was no clue to be found in this decrepit consoling.
But everyone heard the underlined meaning. ‘If it’s a war that they asked we wage, what else could they do but prepare?’
Lord Wei didn’t look sardonic, yet his words contained a strange flavor. Yes, it was helplessness. Something everyone in the room had been afflicted with once or twice in their small term in the office. Serving Gods was not a piece of cake – they had to shut their eyes and cut their throats a number of times to appear as decent unthinking slaves as much as they could– while still appearing useful. There was a fine balance to be maintained in their piety.
"True. What a disaster! We can only hope to see Daxia stand its ground if it can.”
“Their nobility might be in shambles but the martial strength should probably hold for a few more years. We cannot be certain of their victory, but we can pray for them to hold a while longer. Who would have thought, the mighty lions of deserts, those Temeir would lose?! If we fall like them…Dajin will not only fall to ruins, we would be shouldering millions of blood debts and a fate worse than death!” A weasel like man sported his scrunchy face, mouth frothing with muted anger as his haggard sallow skin jiggled, sagging to bones.
"Guess who has a choice in this matter?” Another one couldn’t take much of his useless rhetoric’s. “Neither did we in the past, nor do we now! Why worry about worthless stuff that only fate can decide? It would be better to see if there is any agreement we can reach with those southern barbarians before they break out in struggle in our frontier. If the war with Daxia is eminent, then a close friction with barbarians will only be a foolhardy expedition... What we don't need at this moment is an additional internal chaos weighing our minds with so much at stake!" Master Feng XueXian refuted while he looked pointedly at the weasel like friend seated beside him, his hands still busy rotating his rosary bead.
"By lord! That wasn't what I meant at all! You are doing me injustice, if you phrase like that. In no way was fear-mongering my purpose; what I meant was for all of us to see what our future holds, if we are not careful with our steps - !" here though, he was cut-off from further explanation by another raised voice.
“On a lighter note, the matter of the second prince and your granddaughter…Lord Wei. Congratulations on securing close ties between Jinghai and Imperial City. With this fateful marriage, we can be more confident representing Jinghai, our side better in the capital. No one can blame us for being abrupt. A legitimate connection between in-laws will weigh on our side more, more than any casual links we had forged over the years with all those delegates.” Master song tapped his fingers over the table as he said softly after some thought.
There were several humming agreements over this statement.
“It’s all good and merry till it stifles out like another collapsed marriage.” Master Rong had his head down, as if counting the lines engraved on his hands. “When the Princess of Hunak was sent to Daxia, no one would have imagined that a love affair of such a small woman would boil down to an outright mutiny…Lord Wei, can you assure us that what follows will not be something grimmer than our expectations of more benefit? The second prince is a man of great destiny, he will have more affairs even after this marriage. Some given as gifts, some earned in wars. If your granddaughter turns out to be the kind of Princess of Hunak –”
He shirked his head, tutting at his imagined state of affairs.
“That is a very foreseeable situation if this holy matrimony doesn’t go as planned. All your children seem averse to happiness of this sort – can we be ASSURED that this child, this granddaughter of yours doesn’t have a mind of her own and is well settled to sacrifice her happiness for the greater good? Because the second prince will never be only her husband but a far greater figure in our history of Dajin, the greatest to ever come!”
As a previous Minister of Royal Affairs, old Master Rong was quite open to voicing his doubts about some eventualities. Looking gravely at Lord Wei, his hands though, clenched under the table. “Not that I am being overly fussy… I assure you of that, I am certainly not. That my concerns lie in the troubles that might arise from any misconduct in this matrimony forged only for benefits, is only natural. If this marriage breaks, what we face is not only a tense connection with the Imperial line, few broken confidences between delegates but more likely the wrath of Gods. They have shown great concerns for our second princes’ marriage, have they not?”
Here he stopped. His eyes as dreamy as they were in the beginning. No one would ever discover, as the darkness covered under its folds, the lines bleeding on his palms, his nails broken from fervor.
Lord Wei took a deep look at the languid old gentleman, his eyes a little more focused than it had been a while before. He walked back naturally to his chair, gently tapping over the wooden surface of his chair, as he addressed others.
“No one should worry over this more than me, my Gentlemen. If you have concerns of this nature about my home, I request you to cease them at this very moment. Our Wei house had taken the pledge with the Gods, Master Rong, that we will be the leading family in Dajin – the principal family that will assure them of the worships and sacrifices to moon goddess.” Silence.
“I assure you; we don’t take it lightly. The previous affairs as you might as well say out loud, between my youngest daughter Hua’er and his highness the emperor, was as much my Wei Jia’s fault as it was your houses. We failed to secure a treaty by marriage. Jinghai faced several man-made disasters, pushing its economy decades behind. The court was angry, the general populace furious. It was a personal loss – no one seemed to recognize THAT! But we were patient in our handlings. What my granddaughter has learned is only virtue of a good woman, with no bad influence to hinder her mind.”
The chair screeched at being pulled, and the sleeves rustled.
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