The Chinese Mistress

Chapter 1-2

Cordillera de Pamir- Central Asia- Year 41 BC

The centurion Flavius Tullius raised his right hand indicating to the rest of the diminished century that they would rest in the small plain where they had arrived after a strenuous effort.

Grateful, the legionnaires at his command dropped into the place where they were. They all knew that the centurion was a hard and demanding man, but they also recognized that they had only survived and escaped from the state of slavery of the Parthian Empire thanks to Tullius and other born leaders like him.

Signifer Lucius Sallustius carefully placed the banner of the unit on the ground and looked at it. The insignia had known better times and Lucius remembered the pride with which the portade to the unlucky crossing of the River Euphrates twelve years before. His position in the century was second in command under Tullius and he was in charge of carrying the banner that played an important role in the battles as it visually indicated the course to follow, points of regrouping and other tactical instructions. The legionaries in the heat of the battle constantly watched the course of the banner to place themselves in the battlefield. Being a signifier was a place of honor in the Roman legions and Lucius had been named for his bravery and sagacity in combat.

The man, who was still young but worn out by a life of struggle and deprivation, sat on a high cliff that gave him a broad view of the two valleys that converged on the mountain where they were. The landscape was completely covered with snow except on the steepest slopes and the view stretched in an infinite distance. The Roman had to admit that in other circumstances he would enjoy a beautiful and awe-inspiring sight.

One of the legionaries approached each one of his companions with a large container of water with which he filled the jug that his comrades extended to him. Indeed, combating dehydration was a primary task at a mountain crossing. The signifer extended his jug and listened in silence to the sound of the liquid being poured. The Legionnaire continued on his way, and Lucius carried his vessel to his mouth. At that moment his eyes saw a movement barely perceptible in the bottom of the valley that was opposite him. It was hard to pin down what it was because of the distance that Lucius estimated in more than two miles, as well as a certain fog that covered the valleys as the temperature dropped further. He frowned, trying to get a better focus on the object, and soon saw a kind of long line that his military experience identified as a column of marching men.

The signifer called one of his subordinates who were near him, a youngster that by the time of the Legion's entry into Asia must have been almost a child, and told him.

"Adair, call the centurion and tell him to come here. There is something he must see.”

Both men had descended several hundred of steps by the cliffs in order to see better the column that was entering the valley, still very far from them. The rest of the legionaries had been ordered to hide behind the rocks and to cover their swords, helmets, spears, and every other object that might cast a metallic glow even in the uncertain light of the weak sun. A couple of men had been sent to warn the rest of the cohort, who ascended the ridge behind them, of the disturbing sighting by Sallustius. In fact, the other four thin centuries that comprised the cohort were advancing behind them with several hours of delay.

The signifer pointed his finger at a new group of men emerging from the canyon where the newcomers were advancing. In this group there were men on horseback, palanquins in which those who were without doubt the hierarchs in charge of all the formation were carried and profusion of cloth banners that fluttered in the wind. The whole, still seen from afar, had a festive air, enhanced by the ample and colorful clothes of some of the characters. Lucius thought for a moment, and then said.

"In spite of the long line of spearmen preceding them they do not look like a military detachment. Rather it resembles a parade that would be more appropriate in a public square, and not in this dangerous gorge.”

"Do you know who they are?" The centurion asked, patting his forehead as if he had solved an enigma.

"No, I've never seen anything like it”.

"They are Chinese, undoubtedly commanded by some important character." Flavius significantly looked at his subordinate and friend. "And you know what that means?"

"I'm confused."

"That we have reached the very gates of the Celestial Empire and that therefore we are leaving Parthian territory”.

"Is that good or bad?"

“I do not know if it will be good, but it certainly will not be worse than being prisoners of our captors.”

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