Khan's Legacy

Prelude Part One

Prelude

Part OneEast Africa Coastline

Malindi

The year 1294

Marco Polo was headed home; he’d been away over seventeen years serving his Asian Master, the Great Kublai Khan. He had left a boy and would return a man to tell of things no one from his world could imagine in their wildest dreams. He was incredibly proud of his homeland and couldn’t wait to tell the world of his adventures in Asia. In doing so, his name would become synonymous with travel. Before sailing for Venice he had promised the Khan he would complete a secret task his master would entrust only to him.

The task had taken him from Asia across the Indian Ocean to Zanzibar and from there north to the great Kenyan estuary where he made landfall. Here, in a new and strange continent, he would complete his mission which was to ensure the Khan left a legacy that would underpin his Empire. He had given Marco two metal boxes; they were beyond value and required every possible measure to preserve what they contained for future generations.

He journeyed upstream, the jungle closing in on all sides. Eventually he found a suitable place to bury half of the Khan’s legacy and having completed that task he headed back to the ocean. He intended to hide the remaining half of it on a tiny island in the Indian Ocean. After three days’ hard sailing, he landed on a small beach covered by undergrowth right down to the shore and only visible at very close quarters.

This was the only voyage he wouldn’t be able to talk about in his subsequent tales. His tasks now completed, he could return to his beloved Venice to help build its stature and prominence in the world.

1430 New Zealand, North Island

48 degrees North, 166 degrees 55 east

Admiral Zheng He could hardly believe what he was seeing. The noonday sun was disappearing, night was replacing day. The crews of his armada looked to him for guidance. Trying to keep calm he ordered the sailors to their stations to furl all sails, and fasten themselves to anything fixed to the deck. In total darkness the ships rocked violently and the more daring men lit torches. Slowly they regained confidence, the world wasn’t coming to an end but Zheng hadn’t experienced anything like this before.

He was a pupil of the Mongol dynasty and had been chosen to educate the barbarian countries beyond the Mongolian borders by his Emperor, Zhu Di, the first to recognize the need to understand other countries’ cultures. He regarded it as his first duty to the greatest Mongol ruler, Kublai Khan. To carry out the programme, he had assembled the world’s largest ever fleet. It was to be an undertaking to exceed all his other achievements. Unfortunately, Zhu Di’s rule ended in 1424 and his death put an end to the idea of a maritime expedition. The new Emperor, Zhu Zhanji, revived the project but on a smaller scale and Zheng He was again given command of it.

The Admiral looked apprehensively at the darkening sky; he was concerned for the safety of the legacy entrusted to him. The sky gradually lightened, illuminating the dark clouds with an ethereal glow; he wondered if this was God’s final strike. He hadn’t failed the Emperor totally, he had already deposited two of the three Artefacts entrusted to him, but what of the one he still had on board? His mind whirled as he thought of his own personal legacy - something he had done of his own volition that would be just as important to him as the Emperor’s task.

During a voyage the previous year he’d established a group of trusted leaders in a monastery on a remote island called ‘La Gomera’ and named them, ‘The Elders.’ No one knew of his secret plan to engineer a world that would honour those who, like him, from humble birth had fought their way upwards to become powerful and revered. He hadn’t left the Emperor’s Artefacts with the new community; they needed to prove they understood his plans and find them from pointers left by certain historical leaders. He had still to deposit the remaining Artefact but that final task was in dire jeopardy.

Zheng sensed something more frightening was imminent. The eye of the storm had passed but worst was yet to come. They made slow progress towards land before the world exploded again. Zheng’s eyes were seared by a flash of light and felt as though they were on fire. A comet twenty-six times brighter than the sun, screaming and blowing out the eardrums of the sailors had fallen near them and the howling wind ripped their main mast off. The world went black again.

Zheng regained consciousness in semi-darkness and staggered up the gangway to see that Zhang Li, an experienced captain, had managed to regain control of the terrified crew who were now trying to work the oars. The ship was moving towards land, but struck something hard and grounded. He realized he would have to act fast to salvage the Artefact before the vessel broke up. It took eight men to move the crate from his cabin, slowly they maneuvered it onto the deck and heaved it over the side attached by a rope to a small boat that towed it ashore; the Emperor’s legacy was intact.