The Road of Skulls

by David Barber

Led by musicians to frighten away malicious spirits, the Imperial hearse was pulled by white mourning horses and followed by a straggling procession of nobles, guards, priests and servants along the Road of Skulls.

The Emperor never found time to see the mausoleum where his ashes would be interred one day, though he had often pored over the plans. It was unfinished at the time of his death and artisans still worked day and night.

Chancellor Guan Zhong had ordered priests to find an auspicious date for the cremation and this led to a helpful delay.

In the gloom of evening, the procession came to a halt, planning to arrive at the tomb early next day. It was Son Jeong, the Chancellor’s servant, who later glimpsed the white horses vanishing into the darkness and raised the alarm.

Rushing from his tent, the Chancellor shouted orders at the Imperial cavalry captain, who shouted orders at his troopers, who galloped off in pursuit.

Son Jeong hovered close to the Chancellor, perhaps a little too close, waiting for a suitable moment to speak.

"My Lord, it was I who raised the alarm and then came straightway to tell you."

Guan Zhong paced up and down. "Yes, well done," he said absently.

But Son Jeong persisted. "On the way I passed the hearse and saw its door ajar." He lowered his voice. "The casket containing the Emperor’s ashes was open."

The Chancellor stopped pacing. "Open?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And the ashes…"

"I dared not look, but came here at once."

If the Emperor’s ashes were missing it would mean the Chancellor’s execution and generations of dishonour for his family name.

Guan Zhong hurried to the hearse and peered inside, then carefully closed the carriage door.

"The gold casket was not taken," he mused, handing Son Jeong the lamp.

"The thief would have found it heavy and difficult to conceal," replied Son Jeong. "Whereas a bag of ashes—"

Though useful and clever, Son Jeong sometimes forgot they were servant and master.

Seeing troopers leading back the Imperial horses, the Chancellor realised their flight had been merely a diversion.

"This was plotted by my rivals at Court," he declared. "They will demand to know why the hearse was not closely guarded, and I have no reply except I never imagined such desecration."

"No," he said with finality. "I am a dead man."

After a long silence, Son Jeong ventured to speak.

"You are a man of honour and your enemies use this to trap you. Perhaps someone without honour to lose, a slave say, or a servant, might return the ashes this night and no one need ever know."

Guan Zhong gazed at him.

"This is the Road of Skulls, my Lord. So many tombs. So many cremations."

"Are you suggesting that I—"

Son Jeong bowed his head. "Such matters are beneath your notice, my Lord."

The Chancellor stared into the darkness. Perhaps seeing his death, perhaps his life.

"But an honourable man might still ask what this creature wanted in return."

"Remember that by law your servants would be executed also."

Guan Zhong shrugged. "Still."

"A man of honour might think to free the servant and send him back to his own country."

So it was that after the funerary rites attending the interment of the ashes were complete, Son Jeong received his scroll of manumission. The cavalry troopers who followed him waited until dark before cutting his throat.

The Chancellor was certain he had never revealed the Emperor’s ashes were contained in a bag.