The Silk Tree (20 page)

‘We must go through – who’s with me?’ Marius roared.

Kuo spoke for them all. ‘Better death in the cataract than at the hands of Wen Hsuan!’

Marius elbowed Wang aside and gripped the steering oar tightly. His eyes fixed on the approaching terror, calmly judging distances, angles.

Small whirlpools appeared and their onward velocity increased as they were gripped by the current. ‘Get the oars in,’ he rapped. ‘Everyone, low as you can get – we’re going through!’

Angry shouts came from the banks.

The thunder of water increased but even in the rising moon the narrows were in shadow – there could be anything waiting for them.

Nicander glanced at the shore. ‘Look!’

On either bank the horses were being reined in, baulked by the craggy escarpment across their track, their riders brandishing weapons in frustration.

He peered into the darkness ahead in cold fear. They had escaped from one fate but were hurtling to another.

The sides of the gorge whipped past and a heavy roar battered their ears in the confined space. As his eyes got used to the gloom Nicander made out the figure of Marius, standing on the afterdeck, heroically straining to keep the boat from splintering against some lethal rock.

Their speed was now dizzying – vague black masses flicked by and the odour of churning water and pungent weed rose up.

Kuo and Wang crouched with Nicander in the middle of the boat. Ying Mei and Tai Yi huddled in the little shelter.

They plunged on. It was impossible to make out much ahead; the very next instant could see them smashed to their deaths.

The gorge seemed endless, the darkness near impenetrable. White lathering over deadly rocks showed as Marius slewed the fragile craft this way and that to avoid them. Nicander could only imagine the burning pain in his body.

The lip of the chasm was still relentlessly high. How much further?

Then a massive buttress jutted out from one side, obscuring what was ahead. It was also constricting the waters – and the little craft gathered speed into the roaring chaos.

Nicander knew it was beyond even Marius to take them through alone and hauled himself up beside him, grabbing at the oar.

‘Tell me!’ he yelled against the noise.

Marius nodded. ‘Left!’

They thrust against the shuddering haft, the frightful strength of the shooting water transmitted directly to them.

‘Right!’

It was working: they were slipping past the vicious hazards in the narrowing channel, but then the buttress loomed close. There was no sight of the river ahead which seemed to be curving around it.

‘We take it in the middle!’

In a nightmare of speed and terror they shot past and into the void beyond – it opened up wide but just ahead, spreading right across their track was a continuous chain of white.

There was nothing they could do except scream a warning.

The boat hit and reared up before dropping with a rending crash on the other side: Nicander felt himself flung into the air and then plunging into the water. He was rolled and tossed, choking and helpless until it quietened and he managed to get his head above water. Thrashing about he saw that the boat had entered a broad patch of placid water and Marius was levering it towards a sandy outcrop.

He struggled towards it and was hauled in as the others scrambled, damp and trembling, on to the sand.

‘Got to check the boat,’ Marius croaked.

The craft was fast filling from a splintered plank. Without tools there was no possibility of repair.

‘We can’t wait here,’ Kuo said through chattering teeth. ‘The soldiers will find a way around before long – we must leave!’

‘Then get in and bail – every last bastard!’ Marius ordered.

They found whatever they could to use and when the boat was refloated even Kuo, feeling for the gunwale, bailed as hard as he could.

‘Oars again,’ growled Marius at the steering oar.

Nicander and Wang took up their labour once more. They were keeping pace with the leak – they had a chance!

The night wore on until, imperceptibly, delicate light stole in to lift the darkness.

Ahead, Wang spotted a familiar fork in the river. ‘Heaven be praised!’ he gasped. ‘Ye Ching!’

At a rickety bamboo landing place their little craft came to its rest and they scrambled thankfully to the shore.

Wang made off quickly down the river path to the village while Kuo, clinging to his staff with weariness, called the rest together.

‘It has been a cruel experience for us all, but as so often in our mortal existence, with a hidden gift. In the usual way we should have disembarked before the gorge, made our way across country to the tributary and in another boat followed it down the longer way to this conjunction. Instead we went by a more direct, and you will no doubt agree, a faster route.’

He straightened painfully. ‘By this, we have broken through the search cordon and have arrived here at Ye Ching well on schedule. They have no proof that a single fleeing boat held their quarry and therefore they cannot afford to relax their pursuit in other directions. I’m certain that if we move without delay we will stay ahead of them.’

Wang met them at the inn. ‘Sir, we are desired to wait in the private room while our transport is prepared.’

‘We have little time to waste,’ Kuo said briskly once they were inside. ‘Thus I will tell you now what must be done.

‘You will head as rapidly as possible for the north-west. You will be safe there after crossing the mountains at the Wu Tsen Pass; on the other side you will reach the Yellow River. From there it is a simple journey to Chang An and the rest of your adventure.’

‘And you, sir?’

‘Master Wang and I will be taking horse in the opposite direction, to Shaolin.’

‘Then …’

‘Yes,’ Kuo said with infinite gentleness. ‘It is therefore here that we must part.’

Ying Mei’s features remained blank.

‘First, I give over to you the chest. It contains sufficient means to get you to Chang An, together with required passes and documents.’

Tai Yi firmly took it in charge.

‘Next, I ask my daughter to accept this staff of mine that has done me such service.’

‘F-Father …?’

‘I do so for a reason. It is this.’ From inside his robe he brought out an extraordinary object, a thick length of black hair, shiny with lacquer. He looped it over the tip of the staff.

‘It is the tail of the yak, a beast not seen in China but much esteemed by the western barbarians. It is a sign to them that you are of noble birth and you will be respected. Receive it with my blessing.’

‘And to you gentlemen – staffs also for your journey, but more than that, I now give my daughter into your protection.’

‘My Lord, we …’ Nicander struggled for words.

‘I take that to be your accepting. Then … then if you will permit me, I would desire to take farewell of my daughter in private.’

Nicander motioned for the others to leave and they went outside into a bright early morning. There was a small carriage waiting, with gauze veils over the window spaces. Behind were four mules, two with saddles, two with packs.

A pair of birds began singing among the blossom of a nearby tree. The sweetness of their song brought a lump to his throat as he thought of the anguish that now must be in Ying Mei’s heart.

Then she emerged. Pale but erect she stood and blinked, eyes overbright but her face a mask of control. Without a backward glance she went toward the carriage.

Impulsively Nicander pressed forward. ‘Miss Ying Mei, do please understand how much I feel for you in this—’

She stopped … and looked into the distance, her chin lifting defiantly.

‘How dare you!’ Tai Yi thrust herself between them, her face pinched
with anger. ‘This is the Lady Kuo Ying Mei! Ni
sheng
– know that any communication from the likes of you goes through me, and me alone!’

Struck dumb, Nicander watched Ying Mei enter the carriage and draw the veil.

‘In the future I’ll thank you to remember your manners, foreign devil,’ Tai Yi said icily.

The Yellow River was broad and slow-moving, its muddy waters sliding along as they had done for untold centuries through the featureless flat plain.

Settled under an awning on the timber cargo of the big lighter, Nicander watched the passing spectacle while Marius snoozed.

He looked aft. The amiable old man in a curious conical bamboo hat at the steering oar, who was owner and captain of the craft, gave a toothless smile. His whole family was on board in a tiny house-like structure perched right on the stern.

From above came the comfortable creaks of the single lofty rectangular sail, heavily slatted and needing little handling, driving them on at a steady pace.

Forward, Ying Mei and Tai Yi were keeping out of sight in the privacy of their own spacious temporary quarters atop the long timbers. He shifted in annoyance. There had been no thawing in the Ice Queen and in fact it felt as if she was going out of her way to antagonise them with her airs.

Damn her Chinese ways!

He had reluctantly accepted that there was a distance to be kept between a high-born and commoner but this was ridiculous – having to communicate only through her doughty and ever-vigilant lady-in-waiting, the averted eyes,
the cold hauteur. The boatman and his wife were always fawning and bowing, overawed by her presence. Even Marius was uneasily polite and deferential in front of her.

Nicander had tried to get Ying Mei to utter words directly but never once succeeded. He’d come up with strategems, from saying there was a unicorn behind her, to pretending she was not there and passing sly comments to Marius on her appearance. None had broken the silence.

There was no future in a confrontation. No doubt he and Marius could seize the chest, but to what purpose? Her uncle was crucial to their deliverance and that needed her presence. The Ice Queen had the upper hand.

They left the broad expanse of the Yellow River for a tributary and with distant mountains always to the left, sailed on westward.

Nicander idly wandered back to the boatman, who grinned in pleasure at the break in the tedium.

‘Ho!’ he cackled, pointing to the horizon off to the right where a long, low dun-coloured smoke haze betrayed the presence of a great city. ‘Chang An!’

Although it was hard going, as the accent in this part of China was flat and guttural, Nicander pressed the old man for information about their destination.

It was a very old city, perhaps the oldest. It had been the capital of the first emperor of China and counted on gnarled fingers by centuries, it was apparently two thousand years older than the Rome of Augustus – clearly impossible, of course.

Its size was equally fantastic – from excited sweeps of the arms it would need to be measured in handfuls of miles, but he’d not wanted to show sceptic and let the old man babble on about the sights and the pleasures in the venerable city.

Marius was not impressed. There was only one thing he was interested in and that was getting back to Roman civilisation and a decent feed.

The waterway was now busy; barges and lighters like their own, slim fishing
craft and fat brick transports, pleasure skiffs and sampans – all the usual bustle at the approaches to a great metropolis.

Outer settlements began to appear along the bank, here and there pagodas on the skyline.

The Lady Kuo Ying Mei stepped out of her quarters. She had long restored her appearance, the slim silk gown with its elegant embroidery setting off her elaborate hairstyle, her ceruse-daubed face restored to its impassive rigidity. She looked about with cool detachment.

The captain hurried up, enquiring of her lady-in-waiting if there was anything she desired. It seemed not and the man was dismissed.

The sprawl of settlement became continuous. They dropped sail and were pulled down a long canal against the wind by hundreds of whipcord-thin men.

What they had seen before was the overflow of buildings outside the city. Inside a rectangle of great, towering walls twenty feet high and pierced only once each side with a single set of three gateways, Chang An proper was indeed immense in size.

Peoples of all kinds in every sort of dress were coming and going, quite ignoring the arrival of yet another boat from the outside world.

Tai Yi was soon engaged in spirited bargaining for the hire of their transport.

The merchants’ quarter was well known and they set off, My Lady in a curtained sedan chair, Tai Yi sitting next to the driver of a cart, the foreign devils on the tailgate.

Passing through one of the city gateways they came on an impressive sight – arrow-straight, immensely broad treelined avenues that disappeared into the distance in a regular grid. Minor boulevards and streets led off them and there were canals with pretty arched bridges and every so often a noble pagoda or vermilion eaved mansion showed above the roofs.

They swung off the main avenue and proceeded along a street with high, blank walls on either side. They turned again, into a residential district. Then,
past the hubbub and commotion of a bazaar, they came to street stalls selling fish, pastries and flowers.

Through more urban bustle they crossed another broad avenue and continued along by a residential ward, spacious and well guarded.

Abruptly, they stopped by a dignified entrance. Painted on each panel of the heavy wooden gate were demons. Above, a large red triangular flag trimmed in yellow with huge Chinese characters in black flapped lazily.

Nicander dropped to the ground. ‘Looks like we’re here.’

Tai Yi spoke with a guard who went away, returning quickly to open the gates.

Waiting inside was a group of people, in the centre a small figure in a flowing blue robe, his face so creased with pleasure his eyes almost disappeared.

Ying Mei went up to him and bowed.

Words passed between them; she turned and beckoned the others forward. ‘Dear Uncle, you know my lady companion, Lai Tai Yi, who has served me steadfastly since I was a child. Those two are foreign holy men, Ni and Ma, who are accompanying me in my visit.’

Kuo looked at them in keen interest. ‘From where do they hail, Ying Mei?’

‘A long story, Uncle. It were best left to later.’

‘But of course – I forget my manners! Do enter, my child, take some refreshment while you tell me why you are here. You are most welcome, most welcome!’

They were led along paths lined with peonies and trees, through several courtyards, and then past a series of modest buildings of a charming style to a formal hall.

It was delicately appointed in the same spare, elegant taste as his brother.

They sat by a low table, Ying Mei close to her uncle. A set of tiny porcelain dishes was brought and a larger container used to decant a fragrant steaming liquor.

Kuo told Nicander, ‘You may not yet have tried jasmine
cha
.’

Nicander lifted the dish and caught a subtle aroma – there were tiny leaf fragments and a dried white blossom floating in the tea. It was delicious.

‘Now, my dear, tell me. How is your father?’

Ying Mei replied without emotion, ‘Uncle, this is why I’ve come. I beg that before you hear me, you desire all of your household to leave save yourself.’

In the same controlled tone she laid out what Kao Yang’s usurping of the Dragon Throne had cost her family.

It was the first time Nicander had heard the full story, and despite himself, his heart went out to her.

To stand helpless while her father was mutilated, to hear that her mother had hanged herself in shame soon after, and that all the time she had been living with the constant fear of being taken up as a concubine by the tyrant was deeply shocking.

She had held her dignity for her father’s sake and, like him, had done her duty as she saw it. With the Emperor’s cruel putting to death of his own son they had felt released of the bonds of loyalty.

Kuo’s face went pale and when she passed him a letter from her father his hand trembled.

He read, twice, then turned aside.

She waited quietly, her face an impenetrable mask.

Recovering himself, Kuo addressed her gently. ‘Your father is a great philosopher, a worthy disciple of the sages and a loving and dutiful father. And I will not refuse him. But in this he is asking for more than he can possibly realise. The obstacles to be faced are very severe. On the other hand you have little choice: your fleeing the Emperor’s court has earned his rage and vengeance – you will be hunted for the rest of your days. Or his.’

He went to the door and looked out, then resumed his place. ‘So – you seek to leave China for exile in the Western Lands. Are you still resolved on this?’

‘I am.’

‘Not Japan or Korea, as others have done?’

‘My father despises their debasing of our civilisation, and as well, fears that the Emperor’s agents have influence even there.’

‘So he wishes you to be entirely out of the reach of the Emperor.’

‘Yes, Uncle.’

‘Therefore beyond the influence of our civilised ways, into the land of the barbarians. This is hard indeed, my child.’

‘Our history has many instances of a princess journeying beyond civilisation in obedience to her father. How am I to be so different?’

‘Very well. I bow to your wishes, my dear. Now, you gentlemen …?’

Nicander answered. ‘We have sworn to your brother that we will stand by his daughter until she has reached her sanctuary.’

‘That is most noble in you, sir. May I enquire where you come from?’

Wary, he knew the question would not have been asked if Kuo had mentioned it in the letter.

‘Sir, from a small kingdom far away, it is of no consequence for we came by sea. We are seekers after truth and have travelled far in our wandering.’

‘I honour you for it. Yet the obstacles remain a threat to you all. I shall be frank. I am a merchant in silk and it is in my interest to know of far places to learn of the market there, prices, demand. Yet my knowledge extends only to the oasis towns in the great desert before the mountains. Past these, no one knows what is there.

‘We merchants consign our stock and sell to the highest price as advised to us by our agents in those places, the most distant of which is in a place called Aksu, still far from the mountains. That is to say, this is as far as my knowledge and influence extends. I cannot help you any further. After Aksu … you are on your own.’

‘How will we go on from there?’

‘You will join a caravan leaving here for those regions. They are large, some several hundred camels is the usual number. These go to an agreed destination, like Dunhuang, Khotan and such, so the merchant may plan to send his freight there. On arrival there may be an entirely different caravan going on – the silk is transferred and the original caravan returns. The furthest I personally have sent a freight is Kucha. The merchants in the various cities know the market prices and conditions further on the route, having their own agents out there. They can advise of caravans going on and make arrangements for you.’

‘So we travel by camel caravan.’

‘Yes. Do understand that the purpose of these caravans is the moving of freight – you are only a variety of goods requiring special handling.’

‘Then people regularly travel?’

‘On the nearer routes, often. Officers relieving outer garrisons, imperial messengers, merchants consulting agents, but the further parts very rarely. In fact, I can tell you that I know of not a one who has gone beyond the last oasis towns, as you must. There have been famous travellers who have gone into the mountains, devout monks wishing to reach India to acquire the original writings of the Buddha, but only very few, and none whatsoever any further.’

‘Sir, are you not curious what lies at such a distance?’ Nicander asked respectfully.

‘We Chinese have little interest in barbarian peoples. To journey into the direction of the setting sun can only end in regions of darkness at the edge of the world. Whatever is the nature of the tribes there makes no difference to the price they seem willing to pay for our silk.’

He gave a wry smile. ‘But of course, I’m forgetting the Sogdians.’

‘I know little of them, sir.’

‘These are peoples who make a profession of running the caravans. You will find them in every town, every stage. Your caravan master you can be sure will be a Sogdian, and they speak among themselves the intelligence to make a crossing, but never to we. The secrets of the way are theirs and they are jealous to keep them so. It is possible they do know what is beyond the mountains but we will never learn of it.’

‘Then, sir, it is clear: we join another caravan at Aksu for our onward journey.’

Kuo’s face set. ‘Before you go further, I find it my duty to express something of the horrors – yes, I use that term – of the journey. As you move away from here, you will enter a region of madness. You will reach the edge of a desert that is an empty wilderness that stretches for eternity. You will then leave the world of mankind entirely and enter upon a place where you have nothing save what is carried on you, no friend but who is on the camel ahead, no
stranger will you meet but the fiends and demons of the desert.

‘The heat of the day is all but unendurable, at night the cold can petrify a man. Sandstorms arise that mount to the heavens in blackness and grief to fall upon the hapless traveller and force him to his knees to scour him mercilessly before burying him.

‘And all the time there is no living thing save the caravan, which moves at the pace of a walk, yet it has to exist on its own resources until it finds the next oasis. If it does not, or misses this place, the next caravan will find its bones.

‘If you think this a small risk, know that not three years ago a Turfan caravan of over a thousand camels was overdue at the Yi Wu oasis. It had vanished into the emptiness and no one knows why, it was never found nor a soul survived to tell of it. And I have to tell you this is not uncommon. I beg you, reflect on what you are contemplating. This I beseech you!’

‘We go on,’ Ying Mei said. ‘It is my father’s wish.’