The Empire a Fortress

The Son of Heaven summoned his councilors, and shared with them his troubling visions, of his realm crumbling into ruin. He ordered them to build a wall, to make of the empire a fortress.

“Who will build the wall?” asked the Vizier. 

None volunteered, so they hired laborers from the western desert. 

Ten thousand men labored for ten thousand days, and the shadow of the wall lengthened and grew, shutting out the lands outside. Behind its foreshortening walls, the people cast their gaze inwards, and grew fat on wealth and certainty.

“Who will man the wall?” asked the General.

None volunteered, so they recruited mercenaries from the northern steppe. 

Ten thousand men marched upon the ramparts, and the forest of their spears blotted out the sun, made a cloudy cataract of the moon. Beneath their watchful gaze, the people dazzled one another with displays of gold, and cast their sights on comfort and ease.

“Who will pay for the wall?” asked the Treasurer.

None volunteered, so they borrowed gold from the eastern islands.

Ten thousand tons of gold were sent in ten thousand boats, and the glow of it was as blinding as the sun. Secure in their own private, hoarded wealth, the people closed their eyes, and slept.

And when the invaders came from the southern kingdoms, the northern mercenaries, western laborers and eastern bankers looked the other way. It was neither their land nor worth protecting, for the realm inside the walls was already ruined.