"City of Jade" is L. J.
LaBarthe's first full-length historical novel. It is set on the Silk Road in
1131A.D., covering the journey between Constantinople and Chang'an and beyond.
It was a great labour of love for her; L. J. LaBarthe has said that researching
and writing this book has been nothing but a joy. As she is an avid historian,
this has long been a period of interest and fascination for her, especially the
Byzantine Empire in the 11th—13th centuries.
The story follows the lives of a Byzantine
soldier named Gallienus, and the man he has fallen in love with, Misahuen, a
refugee from Gyeongju in Korea. They meet in Constantinople where Gallienus,
now a city gate guard, is inspecting wagons of merchants arriving at the city
and encounters Misahuen among the guards of a merchant train from the far east.
As they grow closer, they realize that
between the laws of the Byzantine Empire and Gallienus's own lowly status as a
gate guard, the best thing for their budding relationship would be to leave,
and so they do, taking work as guards for a merchant named Stephanos.
As Stephanos, his family and his trading
caravan travel to Chang'an in China, Gallienus and Misahuen encounter all
manner of situations, from brigands to the merely curious to turbulent weather to
culture clashes to injuries and more.
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| Gallienus and Misahuen encounter many adventures |
"City of Gold" is published by
Dreamspinner Press, and readers can purchase the ebook here: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=3911
and the paperback here: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=3912.
If readers are interested in L. J. LaBarthe's other books (and there's a
section for the extensive bibliography of resources that she consulted while
researching "City of Jade" too), her website is here:
Below is an excerpt from "City of Jade."
This is from Part Six, at the Alay Mountains, which are found in modern day
Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan.
*~*~*
The Irkeshtam Pass was busy.
Gallienus was surprised, although he knew
he shouldn’t be. There were bound to be other merchants and traders on the
road, and here, at the pass that would lead them safely—he hoped—through to
Kashgar, there were two other large caravans waiting to begin the crossing.
Stephanos squinted at the caravans with a
suspicious expression on his face. As Gallienus watched, enthralled, the
merchant’s expression cleared and a smile curved his lips. Stephanos slid down
from his camel and marched toward the two caravans. Two other men came toward
him, wearing the same sort of smiles—cautious yet friendly.
“This is interesting,” Gallienus said to
Misahuen.
“Indeed.” Misahuen was watching with just
as much fascination. “I imagine that Stephanos is going to suggest all three
caravans cross the pass together.”
“Strength in numbers?” Gallienus answered
his own question. “Perhaps, or better pickings for bandits.”
“Perhaps,” Misahuen agreed. “Although there
are other dangers. Avalanches, landslides.”
Gallienus grunted. “That will always be a
danger no matter what pass we take over the mountains. We cannot war with
nature.”
“Some would like to.”
“It would be futile.” Gallienus fell silent
as he watched Stephanos and the other merchants.
A boy, perhaps fourteen years old, rushed
over to the merchants, carrying a small amphora and three goblets. He poured
for them, sloshing some of the contents onto the ground, and the merchant he
worked for barked a sharp command at him.
“Persian,” Gallienus identified the
merchant. “Most likely from Tehran.”
“The other looks to be from Samarkand,”
Misahuen said.
As they watched, the merchants drank from
the goblets and then shook hands, laughing and talking. There was much
gesticulating and more laughter, and then Stephanos drained his goblet and
turned and walked back to the caravan.
“We are all going to cross together,” he
said, confirming Gallienus and Misahuen’s suspicions. “Stay close and do not
mingle too much. There may be thieves about. Gallienus and Misahuen, I want you
to guard my wife.”
Gallienus and Misahuen exchanged a
surprised look.
“Of course,” Gallienus said, “but would
your sons not be better guards?”
“No.” Stephanos glared at him. “I want her
protected by warriors, not boys.” He looked at his sons. “Watch and learn from
Gallienus and Misahuen,” he said. The three nodded, mute in the face of their
father’s resolute attitude.
Gallienus rode Adrastos up to stand beside
Lady Tahirah’s mount, noting Misahuen on her other side. Stephanos climbed back
into the saddle of his camel, bellowed orders to his guards, and then they
began to move.
The road had been climbing steadily upward
since they left Osh several days ago, but now, here at the pass that would take
them across the Alay Mountains and into China, it became extraordinarily steep.
There were times members of all three caravans had to dismount and lead their
animals single file, along narrow, winding switchback paths that led upward,
ever upward. The mountain rose to one side, and the drop on the other was a
long, long way down.
It was cold, too, not as cold as Gallienus
had been expecting, but cold enough. The mountains bred their own weather, and
he found himself getting short of breath much quicker as they climbed higher
and it got colder. He took a small measure of satisfaction from seeing that
everyone was reacting as he was.
His leg ached almost constantly now, but
Gallienus ignored it. The combinations of teas, ointments, potions, and
Misahuen’s tender ministrations had reduced the ache in the lowlands, but here,
where there was no such thing as an easy path, in the thin atmosphere of the
heights, there was always pain. Breathing was hard, and, Misahuen explained as
they took a rest period, that was because they were higher than they were used
to.
“How long will it take to cross?” Gallienus
asked during a rest stop on the third day.
Ahmad shrugged. “Difficult to say. It
depends on the weather. The journey from Osh to Kashgar will take nearly three
weeks, I would wager.”
“And winter is ever on our tail,” Gallienus
said.
“Yes”— Ahmad frowned—“but it is late this
year. The road is still dry. There should be snow. I am not taking this for
granted, friend Gallienus. Enjoy this respite from winter while we have it. We
have yet to reach the Taklimakan and that will, I fear, be a harder crossing
than this.”
Gallienus took scant comfort from his
friend’s words. He ate the heel of bread and drank the small cup of wine that
was their allowance when they stopped to rest and heaved a great sigh as the
caravans moved out, picking their way slowly over what felt like the rooftop of
the world.
The view, however, made up for the pain and
difficulty of the journey. They rounded one of the tight corners of the
switchback road, and Gallienus gasped, pausing as he stared at the vista that
met his eyes.
Mountains stood as far as he could see,
colored blue and white. The snow gleamed in the sunlight and the clouds were
thin, allowing him to see the very peaks of those mountains. They seemed to
reach forever, like a giant dragon’s spine that covered the world.
“The Tien Shan Mountains,” Misahuen said
from behind him.
“They are magnificent,” Gallienus said.
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| An avidly researched novel set in Medieval Byzantium |
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