Tando Ghazi Khan

Born of a wealthy and noble family, Tando has long since left his native homeland in the Indus River Valley. For years he has been working the “Silk Road” trade routes from Dun Huang China to Kashgar and Samarkand.

As the story opens, Tando is leading a small caravan of 20 camels out of Dun Huang and heading west to the markets of Kashgar. He bears a very rare and highly desired tea known as “Jade Ring Green,” and he hopes to earn enough on this last trip to retire in comfort and forsake the difficult trade routes altogether.

Tando is also chasing the mystery of a strange map he purchased months ago in Khotan. The map is curiously permeated with subtle errors that he struggles to decipher. After joining with the Tibetan forces, he is able to follow his map and is led to a secret far more profound than the simple political struggles of kings and emperors. A Brief passage below will introduce you to his mind and motives.


EXCERPT - From Chapter 1...

Which way ahead? Tando returned to his thoughts. If I go north with Drekk I’ll be two weeks getting him through Kara-Kum and Korla and then another week before we get up to Kucha—if we get up to Kucha. The Kuruk Mountains near that place have been infested with nomads of late and all that land is plagued by bandits from accounts in Dun Huang. Drekk will want to sign on more men for Gor, and he’ll want thirty Kuan a day for them. Once we make it to Kucha, the way should be safer as we skirt the Tarim River over to Ak’su. From there I can either head up into the Tien Shan Mountains to Samarkand or make for Kashgar to pass my cargo on for delivery to Byzantium.

  Tando did not relish the thought of trying to make Samarkand on his own. Strange folk up that way, he thought, and dangerous for all wayfarers these days with the Arab Caliphate holding sway in that region. It will still take me another week to get through the Tien Shan and that last leg over the mountains is very hard. Miss a day or two on the march, for any reason, and we won’t get over the passes near Khan-Tengri before it snows. If that happens, or if we get an early storm, I’ll get stuck in the Tarim Basin for the whole winter. That would be the dreariest thing imaginable! Unless…

 He suddenly remembered the map he had obtained from the Dorian traders, and the strange shrines that were said to be built of gold in the deep desert. He had often wondered about them, pouring over the map when he was alone in his tent each night, and trying to visualize the shrines in his mind. The rumors he had heard spoke of sacred ruins where shrines to the Buddha had been secreted away in the desert. It was said that they held ancient sutra scrolls written by the Buddha himself with his own blood, and that a sect of rebellious monks fled here from India to hide the sutras in the desert to prevent them from being tainted by the hands of non-believers. Why would they be so foolish as to build a shrine if they wanted to keep the scrolls secret? Particularly a shrine of gold! He realized that the rumors, like all tales and stories that passed along the trade routes, had probably been exaggerated.

 The map showed the figure of a seated Buddha drawn in the deep desert near Niya and Old Domôko—both on the southern road to Kashgar. He had explored the region once, and he was very tempted to go that way again to satisfy his curiosity. If nothing else, he would put an end to the rumors that had been teasing and nagging him over these last months. But there was something else about the map that continued to plague him. This was the strangest map he had ever seen! There were images of common trade commodities drawn along the fringe, but they were oddly out of place. He knew enough about the trade routes to know that they no longer traded jade in Kara-Kum. Why was there an image of jade drawn there? It did not make sense, at least in the beginning. Perhaps the map was just very old, he thought—Until that night in Dun Huang when he had cast the yarrow sticks to read his fortune. His view of the map changed a great deal after that, and he kept it very close.

 Which way? His mind returned to the matter at hand. If I take the southern road the Wend will be happy, because it will mean I will have to pass through his home city at Khotan. The road on the southern fringes of the Taklamakan will not be a friendly one. If the Zari are stirring up trouble again, things could get ugly anywhere along the way. If I can get as far as Khotan I could just pass my teas on to the merchants there for transport to Kashgar. I could trade the Jagham for jade again, and head back to China. Perhaps next year the roads will be safer, and I could make an earlier start.

 Suddenly the thought of waiting another year was not so appealing to him. He was tired of the trade routes and wanted to settle somewhere safe to live out his graying years in peace and relative comfort. No, he would have to get his cargo to Kashgar where it would fetch the best possible price, or he would have to get it up to Samarkand, one way or another. Then he could take his profit and go his own way without worry—even to seek out the strange shrines in the desert if he wished!

 So, which way now? Both routes will take me two months or more, but if I’m late, the southern route has no mountains to cross and I can forget the snows of the Tien Shan—if I can avoid the Zari and get my cargo through intact. I’ll let Drekk and the Wend have their say on it, and then brew a deep cup of my Jade Ring Green before I decide. It was all about the tea in the first place, wasn’t it?

Taklamakan            The Land of No Return      © 2001, John A. Schettler