and filled it with the molten metal…
Casca waited beneath the bas-relief friezes depicting the glories of the Persian kings, listening carefully to the dialogue taking place between the hawk-nosed ruler and a thin, mild-mannered man from the Nile.
Imhept stood, head bowed before the King of Kings. He wore his thin robes of linen with an unmistakable dignity that seemed out of place in one so slight and mild in manner. Imhept's eyes were deep brown and behind them lay a sparkle that belied his advanced years. Shapur's Vizier had sent for him to come to Nev-Shapur to advise them on the construction of new edifices and also to aid them in their new program of expanding the networks of irrigation systems that had fallen into disrepair.
Shapur was somewhat puzzled by the Egyptian. He was used to overawing everyone about him, not only by the virtue of his throne, but also by his own strong personality. He was not just a king, but a warrior to be reckoned with.
But this calm, elderly man with his shaved head showed no sign of fear or apprehension. Shapur had known few that had not feared him and they were either mad or one of the holy hermits wholived in the trackless wastes of the desert. This man, like the holy ones, was at peace with himself. Shapur knew that here was one who would speak the truth, though it may cost him his head. And that was a man to be valued or destroyed-there was no middle ground for such as the Egyptian standing before him.
Shapur stroked his square-cut beard with long, graceful fingers. 'Egyptian, it is told me by my Vizier that you are a man of great learning and wisdom who has devoted his life to study. Now I would pose a question for you.'
Imhept raised his face to look in the eyes of Shapur. 'I will answer if able, Lord.'
Shapur pursed his lips, thoughtful for a moment, phrasing the question properly in his mind before speaking. 'Scholar, the question is this: Of all the achievements of mankind throughout the ages, from all the known races and lands, what has been the single most significant achievement of man since his beginnings?'
Imhept closed his eyes and nodded slowly- once, twice-then opened his dark eyes and smiled as a teacher would to a beloved but wayward child. Shapur shifted uneasily on his throne. A small smile played around the lips of Imhept. 'Lord of Hosts, King of Kings. The single greatest achievement of man, that has permitted all else to come forth is-the plow.'
Shapur shook his head as if throwing off a bothersome thought. 'Do not take liberties with me, scholar.'
Imhept bowed his head again. 'I do not say this in jest, Lord.'
Shapur was still confused. 'The plow? But what of the great pyramids and temples of your own land? What of the libraries where the knowledge of man is accumulated that others may learn from the past? What of the great kings who brought prosperity and glory to their nations? Do you say these are of less importance than the common plow that peasants use to till their fields?'
Imhept nodded. 'As you have said, Lord, so it is. One must not start at the end of a thought but at the beginning. All that you have said would not have come to pass without the lowly plow to till the fields. For with the plow man began to grow. With the plow man was able to plant more than he could eat and the threat of starvation was removed for the most part. This gave man time to organize, to build cities over which kings could rule. For with cities there had to come law and order.”
'And from the plow came many of the other achievements of man. For example, if there is a surplus of grain to be stored, then there is need for containers to store it in-hence pottery. From storage there had to come a means to count and determine how much would be needed to last a village until the next season and how much would be available for trade. Hence, mathematics were needed. And writing, so that one could keep track of what went where and what agreements were reached between buyer and seller. This is naturally a simplification, as the actual total of arts and sciences that came from the plow would take days to enumerate. But suffice to say that the leisure time the plow afforded man gave rise to those sciences and arts by which the great temples and structureswere built. For the early village beginnings, where leaders were needed to rule, did give rise to the great houses and empires. Lord, all this would not be if the ordinary plow had not been.'
Shapur was impressed. The logic behind the thought progression was clear, the extrapolation easy to follow. The very simplicity of the idea made it complicated. Shapur was satisfied with the answer.
'Scholar you have pleased us. It is by my command that you are made advisor to the court and given jurisdiction over the fields and waters of my lands. I will call on you from time to time. Do as you have done now and always speak the truth and you will find your rewards will be great.” He regretted instantly the automatic promise of reward and the next statement would have been the threat of punishment for failure or lying. He knew that neither would have any effect on the Egyptian. He was what he was, a man committed to the truth and to learning. He could not be induced to be other than that.
'You may go scholar. Travel where you will and return to me in three months, and tell of what you have seen and what needs to be done to the plains and sands so that Persia may bear fruit again, as it did when Cyrus the Acmeanid ruled. The land has been too long barren. Go and help bring back the fields and orchards.' The Egyptian was dismissed and left the hall. Casca watched the thin figure leave and wondered at the minds of men who saw things so clearly without emotion or pride.
It was his turn. The Vizier, reading from a scroll, called out his name and motioned for him to step forth in front of the throne and kneel. While on his knees, the Vizier read off his titles and honors accorded him by the Emperor of Chin.
Shapur snapped his fingers and motioned for Casca to rise. Casca stood at attention as Shapur looked him over. He felt as if the Persian king was eating into his soul with his dark eyes, and he knew something of what the thief had felt. This man would order you sliced into pieces without a second's hesitation.
Shapur spoke. 'You are Casca Longinus, Baron of Khitai and warlord to the Emperor of Chin.' A statement, not a question. 'It is strange that one from Rome would have such honors. I welcome the Emperor's words and the warning about the resurgence of the Hephalites. We will tend to them. But what of you, Roman?' The last word was spoken bitterly.
Casca knew he was walking on thin ice and picked his words carefully. 'I am what the missive from the Peacock Throne says. A man who has served his master well with loyalty and the sword.'
Shapur grinned thinly. 'And what of Rome? Is not your first allegiance to the Caesars?'
Casca shook his head. 'My first loyalty, Lord, is to those that show the same to me. True, I have served in the legions of Rome but have been ill-rewarded for it.' With that he pulled his silk robes down over his shoulders and bared his back to the King.
Shapur wet his lips at the sight of the crisscrossing of scars on the muscled back, mixed with deep cuts from edged weapons. Casca turned backaround to face the King. 'Those, and my years on the slave bench of war galleys, have paid off any debt I have to Imperial Rome. I am my own man.'
Shapur liked the scar-faced man's answers. That he was a warrior was obvious and as one fighting man to another, Shapur had to respect him. 'Where would you go from here, Casca, Baron of Khitai?'
Casca shrugged. 'I but follow the threads of my fate, Lord.'
Shapur thought for a moment. 'I would speak further with you. As a warlord it might prove of interest to learn how the warriors of Chin conduct their battles. You will dine with me this evening.'
Casca was dismissed. Bowing, he backed away from the imperial presence and was taken back to his quarters, a feeling of relief surging over him. He knew that it had been close and perhaps wasn't over with yet. He would find out his fate tonight.
An hour after the sun had set, he was sent for and escorted once more through the winding labyrinth, then up several flights of stairs and finally out onto an open courtyard, set three stories above the main floor.
Shapur waited in loose robes of cool linen. Full-grown palm trees and other flowers and plants Casca couldn't name decorated the rooftop garden. He understood why the King preferred the rooftop garden to take his evening meal — the evening breeze cooled the air. Guards remained unobtrusive at their posts, just out of earshot. Slave girls came and went, setting the low table with sweetmeats and delicacies. Shapur motioned for Casca to join him on the couch opposite the table. Torches and lamps lit the scene and Shapur was at ease. 'Sit down, warrior, and we'll talk of the things men do.'
Casca obeyed and reclined on the couch. Shapur motioned toward the food. 'Help yourself, Roman.'
Casca tried a couple of jellied plover's eggs, washing them down with a wine he hadn't tasted before, smacking his lips over the taste. 'Good, damned good.'' Tearing off a piece of roasted antelope, he sunk his teeth into the meat and chewed slowly as Shapur looked on and ate nothing.
