Dark of the Sun

Passage to Kumul was uneventful beyond the deepening cold as the sun moved southward in the sky and the days shortened. In slightly less than three fortnights, they went from An-Hsi to the easternmost rising of the Tien Shan range. During the first fortnight, Zangi-Ragozh elected to travel most of the night and into the morning, resting through the brightest part of the day, and then moving off again in late afternoon; it helped him stave off the worst of his hunger, for there were few opportunities for nourishment beyond the occasional blood of a goat or a wild ass, and that was barely sufficient to his needs. They encountered few other travelers on the road through that desolate waste, and those they did see were more small groups of horsemen, clans bound in search of flourishing pastures, not well-laden caravans from the West. The foothills of the Tien Shan range proved difficult to approach, for there had been a number of rock slides, and from time to time, Zangi-Ragozh had to dismount from his pony and clear the way for the wagon and the camels.

The stone walls of Kumul were a welcome sight when at last they came around a massive outcropping of rock and caught their first glimpse of the five watchtowers on the flank of the mountain's swell. On the floor of the narrow valley just at the town's foot where there was usually a sea of caravan tents, this morning there were no more than twenty, less than a quarter of the usual number.

"Not what I was expecting," said Zangi-Ragozh as he drew in his cinder-brown pony and stared at Kumul in the first, sizzling light of glaring dawn.

"No," said Ro-shei, on the driving-box. "Do you think there is trouble?"

"Beyond the cold and the first touch of famine? I do not know," said Zangi-Ragozh harshly.

"Does this surprise you?" Ro-shei asked, mildly startled. "With all we have seen-"

"I know; I know," said Zangi-Ragozh, and admitted, "I had hoped that there would be a lessening of difficulties by now, that the sun would be stronger, and that the peaks would not have yellow snow upon them, that there would be warmth, or new grass, or-I had hoped some sign of improvement would be evident."

"There are Jou'an-Jou'an tents down there; do you see? They have been forced off their usual lands, and the cold may be the least of it, for the clan markings say that this group is one of the more isolated ones," said Ro-shei, doing his best to find some less dire outlook than the one Zangi-Ragozh foresaw. "Because Kumul is out of their usual region of travel, they may be trying to find better conditions for their herds, and perhaps they may be willing to tell us what they have seen on their way here. Any information they impart could help us." He squinted at the sharp peaks to the west, with their crown of golden snow. "Wherever they have been, it could be helpful to know what they have encountered."

Zangi-Ragozh tapped the pony with his heels and felt the instant of resistance he had come to expect from the tough little animal. "The gates should be open soon. We will go directly into the town, and to the Holy Trinity compound. I hope Seraphim is still Apostle there."

"It is more than a decade since you have been here," Ro-shei cautioned him. "And Seraphim was not a young man then."

"No, he was not. But he had children of his three wives, and that might mean he has a successor, if he has died. In any case, Holy Trinity compound will not have been abandoned, not with the school and the library," said Zangi-Ragozh with determined optimism. As they passed through the clusters of tents on their approach to the town gates, he noticed that most of the men he saw showed signs of hunger, and that their animals were thin. The one woman he saw was gaunt.

The guard at the gate was in a leather shai-fa topped with a scale-armor tunic, as if he expected trouble. To reinforce this impression, he was more heavily armed than any town-guard they had seen since leaving Yang-Chau; his Chinese was in the western dialect of Chiu-Ch'uan. He was accompanied by three other soldiers, equally heavily armed, all lined up to block the entrance to the town. "Who are you and why are you here?"

Zangi-Ragozh identified himself and presented his safe-conduct to the guard. "I am going westward, if the weather permits. I have come to Kumul in order to visit Holy Trinity compound."

"To pray for good fortune, no doubt," said the guard caustically. "There is a duty to enter, whether or not you are here to buy and sell. You must pay it in full before you can be admitted."

"Of course," said Zangi-Ragozh as affably as he could. "I have strings of cash, gold, and silver, as you see on the inventory. What is the duty for my one wagon, my ponies and camels, to enter?"

The guard scowled at the documents in his hand, then glared at his three companions. "A string of silver cash for each of us, and two bars of silver to enter."

The amount was shockingly high, well beyond what a town like Kumul could usually demand, but Zangi-Ragozh took only a moment to consider. "These are hard times and travelers are few, and your town suffers the same privations as the rest of the world. You do what you must to make up the shortfall." He reached into the capacious sleeve of his shai-dan to retrieve the money he had put there; he was careful not to reveal how much more his sleeves held. "Is there a chit to show we have paid our duty?"

The guard looked annoyed, but he lowered his head reluctantly and produced a small, thin strip of wood. "Take this. If anyone should question you, show them this and say you had it from Tsomak at the main gate. I will vouch for you, Worthy Foreigner."

"I am deeply appreciative, Honorable Guard," said Zangi-Ragozh without a trace of irony as he put his pony to the walk to lead Ro-shei and his wagon and animals into the walled town.

They found the streets subdued, with few people abroad; those who were regarded Zangi-Ragozh and his little caravan uneasily. Although they kept to the major streets and went directly toward the Holy Trinity compound, they were aware of feeling out of place, in unfamiliar surroundings, among townspeople who distrusted them.

At Holy Trinity compound, the gate was closed and barred, and a tug on the bellpull did not bring a response for some little while. Finally a man of advanced years opened the grille in the center of the gate and peered out, summing up what he saw with a jerky nod; from his place in the saddle Zangi-Ragozh made the gesture of greeting, his left hand fitted into his right, and waited.

"God be with you," the man said in the local dialect, then in Persian, and finally in Chinese.

"And with you," said Zangi-Ragozh as he dismounted. Approaching the gate, he went on in Chinese, "I am the foreign merchant Zangi-Ragozh, come to pay my respects to Apostle Seraphim, and to seek the comfort of his school for a short while, if it is acceptable to him that I should do so."

The old man blinked. "The Apostle Seraphim died two years ago. The Apostle Lazarus, his son, is in charge here now."

"I am grieved to hear of the death of the Apostle Seraphim, who received me with great kindness more than a decade ago. I ask to see his son, the Apostle Lazarus, to express my condolences and to make his acquaintance," Zangi-Ragozh said, holding out a visiting card imprinted with his eclipse device on one side, and his chop on the other.

The old man took the visiting card and studied it. "I will show him. If you will wait?"

"Of course," said Zangi-Ragozh, anticipating a delay. He turned to Ro-shei. "I remember Lazarus as a young man of fifteen or sixteen." Zangi-Ragozh shaded his forehead with his hands to see what lay inside more clearly. He blinked in surprise. "There are two Jou'an-Jou'an saddles on the rack in front of the stable."

"Are you sure?" Ro-shei wondered skeptically.

"The clan marks match those on the tents outside the town," said Zangi-Ragozh. "And they have those metal foot-loops the Jou'an-Jou'an have started using on their saddles."

"Are there Christians among the Jou'an-Jou'an?" Ro-shei inquired, much astonished.

"They may be seeking help. Apostle Seraphim was always devoted to charity, and the gathering of information about the middle and northern routes of the Silk Road," said Zangi-Ragozh, leading his pony to the rear of the wagon and fixing an empty lead to his bridle.

"Apostle Seraphim would certainly do so," said Ro-shei.

"Then we'll hope the present Apostle will share what he knows with us," said Zangi-Ragozh, glancing down the narrow street toward an open convergence of several ways; there was a well in the center of the space that was not large enough to be a square, but too wide to be only a part of the road. "I seem to recall that there were inns by that well."

"Do you think we should command rooms there?" Ro-shei asked.

"I think it would make it easier for me to find sustenance tonight if we are at an inn than if we are inside the compound," said Zangi-Ragozh rather drily. "Apostle Seraphim would have extended his hospitality, I know, but then food was not in short supply, and the town was flourishing. That sort of hospitality was easily provided, eleven years ago. His son might not be so willing to have us as guests." He made up his mind. "Yes, let us choose an inn; I will inform the Apostle that we are making our own arrangements for shelter and food. We should also make sure we let it be known that we have our own provisions."

"Would you like me to go to command accommodations?" Ro-shei could sense Zangi-Ragozh's indecision in the silence that met his question.

"Not just yet," Zangi-Ragozh said at last. "When I am admitted, then if you will, go secure a place for us."

"Very well," said Ro-shei.

"You may think this is an unnecessary precaution," said Zangi-Ragozh, reading the distress in Ro-shei's faded-blue eyes. "And it may be."

"But given the state of the town, you are concerned?" Ro-shei ventured. "If you were to give the Apostle some of our supplies, he would undoubtedly welcome us with thanksgiving."

Zangi-Ragozh shook his head. "We cannot spare the supplies," he said.

"I am aware of that," said Ro-shei.

"If he will permit me to use the athanor, then perhaps I can repay him in gold." Zangi-Ragozh was about to say more when a thunderous rolling of drums came from beyond the compound walls, and then gongs were added to the cacophony. "Their morning prayers are beginning."

Ro-shei held the alarmed ponies on short reins to keep them from bolting, and the camels moaned. "It may be a while until the gates are opened."

"So it might. Go on-find an inn and get our animals stalled and watered. Give them a little to eat. We'll make them proper nosebags later, when we can supervise their feeding."

"Do you think the nosebags might get taken?" Ro-shei asked, preparing to swing the wagon around in the narrow street.

"I think it is possible," said Zangi-Ragozh, raising his voice in order to be heard over the din.

Ro-shei nodded to show he had heard and continued to work the reins, finally facing the downward slope toward the well. "I will return here when I have made arrangements."

"Excellent; thank you, old friend," said Zangi-Ragozh, stepping aside to allow the wagon and the camels to pass.

The noise went on for some little while, then the compound grew quiet, and for another short while no sound came from within. Then there was a flurry of drums and gongs, and the babble of voices came from beyond the gate, and there was a loud report as the bolt inside was drawn back and the gate swung open, revealing a great number of men and women going purposefully toward their morning labors. The old man who had spoken to Zangi-Ragozh through the grille was waiting just inside, his seamed face creased into a smile.

"Enter, stranger, in the name of the Savior," he said formally.

"Thank you," said Zangi-Ragozh. "My traveling companion has gone to find us an inn. He will return when he has made arrangements."

"He will be welcome when he comes," said the old man with undisguised relief. "The Apostle Lazarus has asked me to bring you to him. He is with a magician of the Jou'an-Jou'an," he went on as he started across the courtyard toward a two-story building with a cross over the main door. "He says he recalls your visit some years ago and is anxious to speak to you again."

Zangi-Ragozh said, "It is a great honor to me that the Apostle should recall those distant days."

"The Apostle is mindful of his duties," said the old man.

"Will it be a problem for him to receive me if he is with this Jou'an-Jou'an magician?" Zangi-Ragozh was careful to ask without giving any implication of his opinion.

"It should not be," said the old man, going up the broad, shallow steps with sufficient effort to reveal painful knees.

"I have a medicament among my belongings that may ease your discomfort if you would allow me to present you with a vial of it," said Zangi-Ragozh.

"I thank you, but I offer what God has given me to Him," said the old man.

Zangi-Ragozh shrugged. "If you change your mind, you have only to let me know."

"I will not change my mind; this pain is mine to bear. It would slight Christ's suffering for our sins to refuse what I must endure," said the old man affably as he paused to bow to the altar at the end of the room, then indicated a well-lit corridor off to the left that connected to a single-story building next to the church. "If you will come this way? The Apostle is in his study."

"I will gladly follow you," said Zangi-Ragozh, doing so. The corridor made another turn, and Zangi-Ragozh found himself facing a shrine that showed Jesus dancing before the brilliant golden disk on which God's Throne was hammered. "This is new," he remarked.

"It was made shortly before Apostle Seraphim died, as a sign of his readiness for Paradise. He commissioned it as his last official act." The old man gestured, urging Zangi-Ragozh to hasten, and took the right branch of the corridor. "The door at the end there is the Apostle's study. Knock once and enter."

"I will. Thank you-" He paused, waiting for a name.

"My name in Christ is Ephraem," said the old man.

"For the poet from Niblisi?" Zangi-Ragozh asked.

"A most pious man," said Ephraem. "His life is a great example to all of us."

Zangi-Ragozh nodded and continued down the corridor, leaving Ephraem to go about his other duties. As he reached the door, he knocked as he had been instructed and waited for a response.

"The foreigner, Zangi-Ragozh, is that you?" called a deep, beautiful voice from beyond the door in excellent Chinese.

"It is," he answered.

"Then enter," said the voice.

Zangi-Ragozh opened the door and stepped into the study of the Apostle of Kumul. It was much as he remembered it-pale walls with ten recessed windows with iconographic pictures of the life of Christ hung between them. The room was not austere, but it was also far from lavish: its most prominent feature was almost a dozen manuscript crates of lacquered leather on shelves against the north wall. There was a small altar on the east wall, and a writing table against the south wall, facing into the room, where four chairs were set around a table. Just now two of the chairs were occupied, one by the Apostle-a handsome man in his midtwenties in a long robe and shuba; he wore a short beard and his hair was clubbed at the back of his neck-and the other by the Jou'an-Jou'an magician. This proved to be a woman, probably about the same age as the Apostle, for her angular Hunnic face was relatively unlined and she had all her teeth; she was dressed in the heavy, embroidered shai-dan of her clan and people. Her eyes were light-blue, nearly the color of ice, and her hair, cut as short as a man's, was almost entirely white.

The Apostle inclined his head in Zangi-Ragozh's direction. "In the Name of the Savior, I bid you welcome to Holy Trinity at Kumul," he said in Chiu-Ch'uan dialect.

"You are most gracious," said Zangi-Ragozh in the same vernacular, closing the door and coming into the room.

"I am Lazarus, son of Seraphim, Apostle of Holy Trinity," he went on.

"I remember you, but as a very young man, with only the beginning of a beard. You were busy with your studies when I was here the last time, and your father saw great promise in you," he said, and fitted his hands together in polite greeting, looking from the Apostle Lazarus to his other guest.

"This is Dukkai, of the Jou'an-Jou'an, the clan of the Desert Cats," the Apostle continued. "She is their magician."

"It is an honor to meet you, Dukkai of the Desert Cats," said Zangi-Ragozh with the same respectful gesture.

She regarded him in silence for a short while, then said, in fairly good Chinese, "It is interesting to meet someone from so far away." She, too, spoke the Chiu-Ch'uan dialect with ease.

"Surely you and your people often encounter travelers from great distances," said Zangi-Ragozh. "Do not the Jou'an-Jou'an follow the Silk Road in their course from pasture to pasture?"

"From time to time we encounter travelers, but they are not often like you," she said, and volunteered nothing more. "What do you call this town? Kumul? Ha-mi?"

"Kumul," said Zangi-Ragozh, "as most of those who live here do."

Apostle Lazarus indicated one of the empty chairs. "Come. Sit. Talk with us. Your presence is most truly pleasing to us, here in Kumul."

"Thank you," said Zangi-Ragozh, and chose the chair that faced the door.

"I must ask you how long you have been traveling, and from where you departed to come here," the Apostle went on as if resuming a conversation with Zangi-Ragozh rather than beginning one.

Knowing his candor was required, Zangi-Ragozh did his utmost to answer fully and without any appearance of deception or omission. "I left Yang-Chau about three fortnights after the Winter Solstice, on the order of the new Wen Emperor in the West, who summoned me to wait upon him in his new court at Chang'an; as a merchant I had good reason to want cordial arrangements with his court, for many of my caravans traveled through his territory. Since I am a foreigner, I must be punctilious in all my business negotiations, particularly where the good opinion of the court could improve my situation." He paused to give Apostle Lazarus a chance to change the tenor of his question. When nothing more was ventured, he went on, "I was, in response to the Wen Emperor's order, bound for that capital, but the weather changed for the worse, some of my men and goods were confiscated, and there was more fighting on the road; it became necessary to abandon those plans, for I could not reach the new Emperor, and there was as much trouble on the road back to Yang-Chau, or so the reports said, so I decided to begin a journey to my homeland. It has been a hard trek."

"Because of the cold," said Dukkai.

"And the lack of good food," said Zangi-Ragozh.

"They say that the south has food in plenty," said the Apostle.

"Not that I saw," Zangi-Ragozh said. "Everywhere I passed there were fears of famine, all well-founded. Perhaps much farther to the south there is plenty, but I would doubt it."

"Why is that?" Dukkai asked.

"Because I saw no travelers from the south bringing food to sell, only a few families who were looking for better farms to work. Given the lack of food in the north, I would expect southerners, if they had any, to make the most of their bounty." He waited again. "There are more robbers and bandits-that usually means want."

"You got here safely," said the Apostle.

"My traveling companion and I have but one wagon and six ponies and three camels." Zangi-Ragozh shrugged. "We are not worth the risk of stopping."

"Hardly a caravan," said Dukkai, and fixed him with her pale eyes. "Or is it better on the other side of the Great Wall, and you are telling us this to protect what they have?"

"Anyone who claims so has not been there recently," said Zangi-Ragozh, choosing his words carefully. "The market at Holin-Gol was half-empty when I was there."

"Then you say they lie?" Apostle Lazarus sounded troubled.

"I say they have not been there since last winter. The yellow snow has fallen in many places, and the veil over the sun has been present from near Lo-Yang to this place. It may extend farther, but I have not seen it for myself," Zangi-Ragozh told them.

"The yellow snow," said Dukkai, making the words a condemnation. "It has fallen steadily into the summer, not only in the Tien Shan, but on the wastes of the desert, and it still falls." She fingered her broad, embroidered leather sash. "It is not wholesome."

"No. It burns the fields and sickens many animals. I have seen whole flocks of birds fall dead from the skies," said Zangi-Ragozh.

"That has happened here, as well," said Apostle Lazarus. "It is God's Hand, laid upon us for our unrepentant behavior."

"It is the gods contending over the earth," said Dukkai in a tone of voice that suggested they often debated such things.

"Whatever it is, it is deadly," said Zangi-Ragozh.

"And many are suffering because of it," said the Apostle, going on with increasing emotion. "To have so much taken from us at one time can only mean that God wills it."

"If that is so," Dukkai countered with the ease of long custom, "why would your God demand so much misery of his worshipers?"

"God gave His Son to be the Light of the World. He allowed His Son to suffer on the Cross, for the sins of all men." Apostle Lazarus spoke as if to a recalcitrant child.

"If the son paid for the sins of men, why does your God visit more wretchedness on everyone? Was not that son's expiation sufficient?" Dukkai leaned forward in genuine curiosity as she waited for his answer.

"This is one of the many things that only Christians understand," said Apostle Lazarus. "I am sure that you must know there is only one Son of God, and He reigns in Paradise with His Father."

"So you tell me," said Dukkai, shaking her head slowly. "But that does not explain the travail of the world, not if the son's sacrifice was acceptable to your God, and of true worth. If it truly did redeem men, then no Christian should have to endure want or pain or loss, yet we see they do."

"There is the Fallen Angel, who brought Original Sin," said the Apostle.

"And that should have been discharged by the sacrifice. Are you saying that your God has rivals who are as powerful as he, and who prey upon his people? Why has he not killed them all? Or is it that his power is not without limits, and Fate has sway over him as well as everything else?" Dukkai broke off to take a cup of buttered tea from the table in front of her. She drank half the liquid and put the cup back. "I forgot to tell you this when I arrived last night: I have some tea bricks for you, Apostle Lazarus. Not as many as last year, but not too paltry a gift."

"You need hardly purchase your reception here," said Apostle Lazarus. "You are welcome if all you have is the breath in your body."

"You do credit to your faith to say so, but my gods would not favor me if I neglected the rules of hospitality," said Dukkai. "My escort will present the bricks to your kitchen-master, and that will please me, and Baru Ksoka, who leads the Desert Cats, will not be dishonored in accepting your hospitality."

"That is his understanding, not mine," said Apostle Lazarus with a warm smile. "It is an opportunity to serve God, having you and your escort here at Holy Trinity, and it is fitting that you should permit me to extend my welcome to your people."

"I believe you, but Baru Ksoka is the Kaigan, and I am obliged to respect his wishes," said Dukkai.

"After all these years? What is it?-seven years you have been coming here? Surely your Kaigan is aware that I expect no gifts other than your presence?" Apostle Lazarus shook his head again. "Your Kaigan is a stubborn man."

"And you are not?" Dukkai countered.

"It is fitting that I tell you that I need nothing from your Kaigan, that my hospitality does not depend on his gifts to me, although I will accept them as donations of our faith, for God will render what gifts I may need in this life, and bring me to glory in the next." He refilled her cup from a large, earthenware pot that sat on a warming plate atop a small butter-stove. "Let us assume that we have had our usual wrangle. I will thank your Kaigan for the bricks of tea and you will not have to insist upon it."

She laughed, sounding lighthearted. "I will tell him of your high regard for him and your gratitude for his gift, as I always do."

Zangi-Ragozh felt like an interloper, intruding on old friends, and it made him awkward. "You have had this discussion before, I take it?"

"It is a ritual, almost," said Dukkai. "I would be disappointed if we could not dispute the Kaigan's gift." She drank a little more buttered tea. "Baru Ksoka would not understand our amusement, and he would be troubled by what we say to each other."

"He will hear nothing from me," Zangi-Ragozh assured her, understanding her intent. "Why should he? We may never meet."

"I think you will," she said. "If you are to remain here for more than a few days, he will come to the compound and will want to know all strangers here."

"Is that part of his leadership?" Zangi-Ragozh asked.

"He is afraid that being in this place, dangerous teaching may leach away my magic," said Dukkai.

"You do not seem worried about that," Zangi-Ragozh observed.

"Magic cannot be taken in that manner. This place is a magical one for Christians, but that does not damage other magic. Few places are so pernicious as to do that." Dukkai drank down the rest of her tea. "I am expected to maintain the secrets of all the gods, to keep them apart from disbelievers, and to preserve their rites for the clan alone."

Apostle Lazarus stared at her in amazement. "So stringent a burden for you to carry. I am surprised that you speak to me at all."

"We share many things in our work," she said. "You and I have rituals to uphold, and many responsibilities to our people, who are afraid the gods may fail them. Yet you trust in the strength of your God as I trust in the strength of all of mine. It is not something the others understand. You probably do not understand it, Zangi-Ragozh."

"When I was a very young man, I was initiated into the priesthood of my people," he said quietly, and not quite comfortably, as it was a part of his past that he usually kept to himself. "It was a long time ago, and my people are disbursed over the earth, but I recall what I was taught in my youth." That had been two and a half millennia ago, but he had not forgotten that night in the sacred grove, when the god had made him one of his blood.

"Then perhaps you do understand," she said. "I would like to hear what your priests taught you. It makes a change from what Apostle Lazarus and I usually discuss."

Apostle Lazarus leaned back in his chair. "Yes, Zangi-Ragozh. I am most curious. My father told me about your skills as an alchemist but nothing of your having been a priest."

"From priest to alchemist to merchant," said Dukkai. "It must be a most fascinating journey."

"That is not a word I would have chosen," said Zangi-Ragozh, meeting Dukkai's ice-blue eyes with his blue-black ones.

"No; those living a life do not usually see the remarkableness of it," said Dukkai. "They leave that to magicians, and story-tellers."

"How can you say such things?" Apostle Lazarus exclaimed. "The lives and writings of holy men are examples, not tales to entertain." He grinned, ready for lively conversation.

"It may be so," said Dukkai, "but the tales of the gods are often as much adventure as instruction, so that people may understand the nature of the gods' powers."

"Of your gods, perhaps," the Apostle countered.

"Of all gods," said Dukkai firmly. "As well they should be, so that people will want to remember them."

The Apostle made a humorous groan. "This is going to be a long day," he said merrily.

"At least until Baru Ksoka arrives," said Dukkai. "Then there will be things we must do."

"I will keep that in mind," said Apostle Lazarus.

Zangi-Ragozh sat back and listened to the Apostle and Dukkai match wits while the shadows on the walls grew dim as heavy clouds covered the wan sun.

Text of a letter from Eclipse Trading Company senior clerk Hu Bi-Da to Councillor Ko She-Hsieh, both at Yang-Chau.

To the most excellent Councillor Ko She-Hsieh, the senior clerk of the Eclipse Trading Company, Hu Bi-Da, sends this requested report and provides the justly deserving Councillor with the information he has asked be included, on this, the first day of the Fortnight of the White Dew.

This person regrets to inform the Councillor that there has as yet been no further word from Zangi-Ragozh, the illustrious foreigner who is the owner of the Eclipse Trading Company, and who has been gone from Yang-Chau for fifteen fortnights. As the Councillor is aware, the company is well-funded and the instructions left by the illustrious foreigner Zangi-Ragozh provided for the continuing trading of the company, as well as guaranteeing the paying of duties and taxes. Should word come at any time, this person will immediately inform the Councillor of that fact and apprize him of as much information as is to be had. The messenger from Dong-Lin provided proof that Zangi-Ragozh passed through the town, paid the required duties, and went on, which at present is the sum this person knows of his employer's activities.

I Mo-Ching, Captain of the Morning Star, has at last returned to port. His ship is somewhat damaged but not beyond repair. He has brought a cargo that is generally satisfactory, and the goods will be released for sale as soon as the customs officials decide on what duty to charge. I Mo-Ching himself is preparing a report for the Council regarding what he has observed on his voyage, the kind of damage he has seen, the aftermath of such damage, and his assessment on he impact of this on trade. This person urges you to give his account the utmost attention, for he will not lead you astray nor expect you to embrace tales of fanciful events.

This person has provided a copy of the accounts of Eclipse Trading Company for the last twelve fortnights for your review. This person vouches for the accuracy of the records kept and, on pain of legal action, declares they are complete and veracious in all details and particulars. This person adds that the loss of the Bird of the Waves and The Shining Pearl are listed separately for the value of the cargoes of these lost ships can only be estimated, and so this person has based his assessment on previous cargoes of these ships. In addition to the two lost ships, word has arrived that the Phoenix has been badly damaged and most be extensively repaired before it may safely sail to Yang-Chau. This person has arranged for funds to be transferred to cover such repairs and, further, has been advised that the Captain is dead of fever and will have to be replaced. Should the Council authorize it, this person will hire a new Captain to carry the money for repairs to the Phoenix and assume command of her reconstruction as well as her voyage home. However, this person will not ask many Captain to take to sea after the Fortnight of the Frost Kings, when darkness and bad weather make navigation hazardous in good times. Given what has happened in the last twelve fortnights, this person cannot in good conscience send any ship to sea, for great waves might still strike out of nowhere, and ferocious winds drive all ahead of them, sending ships to destruction. If this person is erring in these decisions, he asks that the Councillor remember that Zangi-Ragozh entrusted his business. to my care, and this person is bound to use caution in difficulty circumstances, which these surely are. If, upon his return, Zangi-Ragozh should choose to chastise or penalize this person for his decisions, then this person will accept what is meted out to him as the right of his employer. Otherwise this person will continue to uphold his position in the Eclipse Trading Company in as prudent a manner possible.

Submitted with the inclusion already mentioned, with the abiding respect and regard of

Hu Bi-Da

Senior Clerk, Eclipse Trading

Company

(his chop)