The Silk Tree (34 page)

Directly before them was Osh.

Ying Mei did not speak but her eyes darted everywhere: this was the crowning moment of her journey.

Nicander glanced at her. Against all the odds they had made it through, over the endless miles. And now she was in the Western Lands he had fulfilled his bargain.

The ground levelled in the last mile or two and the caravan joined a treelined road. As the travellers drew closer however, they could see that the houses were mean and seedy; the streets and lanes unplanned and dirty, full of ragged children and herds of pigs. Noisy, uncaring and stinking.

By the time they had come to a halt in the big caravanserai it was clear that this was a trading outpost, a town perched on the frontier.

Seeing Ying Mei’s set face Yulduz said defensively, ‘Osh is a fine place, M’ Lady, but I’m thinking, not so good for a princess.’

She gave a confused look to Nicander.

He had only a hazy idea of the geography. ‘Where is Constantinople from here?’ he asked Yulduz.

The man just shrugged.

‘The Mediterranean – the great sea?’

‘I am a man of the mountains, I know not much of what is across the
plains. But there is a great city many times the size of Osh. This is the home of the Sogdian people. It is called Samarkand and is only a week or two away. There you will find every kind of comfort and civilisation that would suit you, M’ Lady.’

‘How will I …?’

‘My brother, he runs caravan there. I will see him directly, you wait.’

After he had gone Ying Mei forced a smile. ‘Ah Yung, we are in the Western Lands, you have completed your mission.’

She paused. ‘But can I ask … will you go with us to Samarkand?’

What else could he do? In all conscience he could not leave Ying Mei and Tai Yi in this town alone. In Samarkand she could settle down in some comfort, yet still keep her ear to the ground for news that it was safe to return to China.

At the same time hanging over him was his own quandary – how to get to Constantinople from here. What more likely place than the capital of the Sogdians to find out?

That night Nicander found sleep impossible.

He now knew it was more probable than not that he and Marius would eventually succeed in getting through to Constantinople. It was no longer a fearful adventure with no end.

But it was only a very short time before the moment when he would never see Ying Mei ever again.

He had accepted that their friendship, warm as it was, could go no further. She was a noble lady and would see out her exile in Samarkand. He and Marius would continue on to Constantinople.

Yet she had entered his heart and mind in a way that no other woman had. A disgraceful thing to admit for a holy man, he reflected ironically. The holy man conceit, of course, was as much a defence against what could not be, as to allow her the trust to be close and he had to see it through. In any case, it would be a shameful thing if he had to admit that he’d deceived her all this time.

No, it had to be faced, there would be a parting soon and it would be final.

It were better for both, therefore, that from now on he keep away, withdraw from her company. Be polite – but distant. The only way to get through it.

Yulduz came back with good news. ‘He can take you. Like I said! If you quick.’

The caravan was already on its way and they had to chase it on horseback, rendezvousing in the early afternoon with a colourful line of laden camels, packhorses, all the familiar jingle and panoply.

The caravan master, looking nearly identical to his brother, accepted their fee and it was arranged that their baggage would catch up with them at their first staging.

Ying Mei’s face was flushed with anticipation. ‘Will they speak Greek in Samarkand, Ah Yung?’

‘If it’s as civilised as they say.’ He rode on without taking his eyes from the road.

‘I’m so relieved! A new land with all these things to see, to learn about – aren’t you excited, Ah Yung?’

‘Yes – I suppose so.’ He couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

‘Oh, you worry too much! The bad part is all over now.’

When he didn’t reply there was a tiny frown. ‘Are you feeling unwell, Ah Yung?’

‘No.’

‘I wouldn’t want to miss our Greek lessons, now we’re so close to Samarkand.’

‘I … I don’t think I’ll have time tonight. I have to … to meditate.’

‘Oh. Well, when you’re free you’ll find a ready pupil.’ She quietly fell back to Tai Yi.

As the days passed, Nicander found it harder and harder.

In her place, alone in a country that was as different from her own as it was possible to be, he would be clinging to anything that was familiar, secure. Yet she never allowed her fears and anxieties to drag her down, standing before the world as the high-born lady she was.

He nearly weakened several times over resuming their Greek lessons but he knew he couldn’t, the closeness would be too difficult to bear.

He told himself that in any case he’d been teaching under false pretences: he’d assumed that here, as everywhere in the civilised world, Greek would be spoken by all but the barbarians but this, it seemed, was not the case. She’d trusted him and …

If he and Marius safely made Constantinople, in their box of holy scriptures – now mustered daily by Marius – was the means to make both of them insanely rich, never to be troubled by anything again. He should be rejoicing, looking forward to the climax of their adventure.

Instead, he was being torn in two at the thought of parting from a woman who he now knew he loved but who saw him only as a friend, albeit one she had said she would never forget.

They were soon approaching Samarkand. The verdant plain was populated by farms – irrigated peach orchards and greenery stretching on and on. In the hazy distance a single massif thrust out of the flatness.

The caravan headed towards it and as the roads thickened to streets and the traffic choked the way it came into plain view. It seemed peoples from every conceivable corner of the world were streaming there.

A walled city with impressive towers and monuments was atop the rocky eminence. After they had passed through the caravan gate they wound along a wide flat area to the prodigious-sized caravanserai.

There were two other caravans in the bays and their arrival caused little interest.

Nicander dismounted. This had been the last time he would be with Ying Mei in a fabled caravan on the silk route. From now on—

Suddenly she gave a squeal. He wheeled round in alarm to find her pointing to a shabby sign above an alcove that read, ‘Andros and Sons, Merchant Factors’ in Greek.

She ran across into the office, Nicander quickly following.

‘Good morning!’ she said breathlessly in Greek to the clerk.

‘What do you want, lady. We’re busy, can’t you see?’ he replied in the same language.

‘How wonderful!’ she breathed.

She turned to Nicander, ‘You see? I can speak – I can talk! Isn’t it marvellous!’

A lump came to his throat at hearing his native tongue. He thrust outside hoping she did not see the tears welling.

Ying Mei followed in concern and put her hand on his arm. ‘Something’s the matter, isn’t it, Ah Yung?’

The touch was all fire and flowers and he strove for control. ‘Oh – only that – someone speaking Greek after all this time.’

The others came hurrying up.

‘Anything wrong?’ Marius wanted to know.

‘No, nothing,’ Nicander managed. ‘Well, we’re here, aren’t we?’

‘Yes, o’ course we are, Nico! Now, there’s to be no caravanserai for the ladies any more. This is going to be their home, so we’ve got to find ’em a place to start off.’

‘I was just about to ask here if there’s a Greek-speaking lodging house nearby. Somewhere to stay while they find out what they want to do.’

There was one such, and in a better-quality quarter up the steep slope above the caravanserai.

The door was answered by a maid who quickly sent for her mistress, a Mrs Malech.

She was a pleasant-faced woman who took to Ying Mei immediately. A guest of quality who knew Greek: it would be an honour to have her.

It was a modest but comfortable house, faintly reminiscent of the antique Euboean style with its mock porticoes and inner courtyard. Quiet, away from the lower streets, it seemed to fit the bill perfectly.

‘What do you think, Ying Mei?’ Nicander asked, puzzled that she had suddenly gone pale and withdrawn.

‘Yes. It will do,’ she said woodenly, then enquired, ‘What are you asking for the rooms?’

Mrs Malech named a value in Sogdian soms which Nicander’s quick merchant’s brain quickly converted to a usable reference, but before he could speak Tai Yi snapped in Greek, ‘That’s too expensive!’

Nicander wheeled around in astonishment.

‘Who do you think I was practising with?’ Ying Mei said with a small smile.

He shook his head in admiration as an arrangement was satisfactorily concluded.

‘Then you’ll need your gear to settle in. We’ll have it sent to you from the caravanserai. Is there anything else …?’ The lump in his throat had returned.

Ying Mei turned and looked at him for a long moment. ‘You promise you’ll come back and say a proper goodbye before you leave?’ she whispered.

Nicander nodded slowly, unable to speak.

Marius chuckled. ‘O’ course we will! There’s the little matter of settling up for the rest of our trip, we haven’t forgotten. Come on, Nico, we’ve a lot to do.’

‘Well, how did you get on?’ Nicander asked Marius.

‘There’s a caravan, sure enough, but the master needs clearance from his agent before he’ll put us on the books. How about you?’

‘Good and bad.’

‘Tell me.’

‘I know more about where we are now.’

‘Oh?’

‘Marcanda of Transoxiana.’

‘What?’

‘This is what Alexander the Great called this place when he conquered it. And it’s why they still have Greek here. You wouldn’t believe it but he put in another week’s march from here towards Osh but when his generals saw the mountains we came down they mutinied and wouldn’t go on any further.’

In a way Nicander felt a kinship with these ancestors of his and a comforting realisation that at last they were on known territory. On this very ground
Greeks and Macedonians had set their boots and in a line that stretched back to Greece itself, a saga of conquest that was unmatched in history.

‘You also said bad,’ Marius prompted.

‘Yes. The way home is due west in a straight line. Just a small obstacle we have to face.’

‘What?’

‘We’re the wrong side of Persia, it’s in the way and we have to get through it – Justinian’s greatest enemy and we don’t quite look like harmless Sogdians.’

Marius was not going to be put off. ‘Well, let’s see what happens with the caravan. We may have to go in disguise or something. We’ll work it out – after coming all this bloody way there’s nothing going to stop me now!’

Nicander tried to be enthusiastic for his friend’s sake.

It was tedious, having to remain at the caravanserai for word, not being able to get out to see sights that might take his mind off things, or visit a wine house to drown his sorrows. Hanging over everything was the crushing thought of having to see Ying Mei one last time.

Nicander pulled himself together. It had to be done. Then he would try to get on with what was left of life.

‘Marius. I think I’ll say my farewells to the ladies now. No sense in waiting to the last minute. Will you come?’

‘I don’t think so. I’m not much for goodbyes, and some bastard has to stay around here. You go, tell ’em I wish ’em well, that sort o’ thing, you know. Oh, and don’t forget the settling up!’

Ahead was her lodgings: in a way so sweet-sad in its Hellenism of another age, and from now on where she would have her being. How could he just go in and end it all?

Nicander shied away as if he’d come to the wrong address. But this was just delaying things. He turned back, determined to see it through; he would make it short and final, be strong and resolute – it was the only way.

His hand hovered at the door then he knocked firmly.

Ying Mei opened it uncertainly, pallid and tense. Her face lit up on seeing him. ‘Ah Yung! You came!’

‘Why, yes,’ Nicander answered, taking in the image of her standing there; he would remember her beauty for as long as he lived.

‘I promised … to say goodbye before we left.’

‘Please come in!’ she said happily.

The room had been transformed: there was now an elegant throw over the long couch, a deep-pile rug in green and gold on the wooden floor. And after her desert travails: flowers everywhere.

‘Would you like some wine? Here it is all made from grapes, I find.’

‘That is kind of you.’

He sat diffidently at one end of the couch.

‘Tai Yi is not here at the moment,’ she called from a side room. ‘She went
out with Mrs Malech who’s showing her all the local shops and bazaars. I … I couldn’t really face it myself but they said they’ll be back for supper.’

He stood up. ‘There’s nobody else here? I should really leave.’

There was a sudden clatter. She hurried in. ‘Please – please don’t go!’ she blurted, her face strained and the glint of a tear visible. Nicander steeled himself – she was taking the reality of her exile harder than she was admitting to the world and it was all he could do to prevent himself going to comfort her.

‘I – of course.’

‘I’m such a silly, it’s just that …’

‘Ying Mei, you don’t need to explain. I understand.’

His heart began to weep for her – and what could not be.

‘Yes, I know you do. We always did get along well, didn’t we?’

He struggled to answer. ‘You were a good pupil.’

She came and sat on the opposite end of the couch. ‘And you! Do you remember how quickly you understood how Hsün Tzu and Confucius could be enemies, yet friends at the same time? I was amazed at you!’

‘It must be that my teacher was a very wise and patient … being,’ he said, unable to keep the feeling from his voice.

She looked at him, her expression unreadable, her hands working together.

In the silence the emotion in his breast swelled.

‘Ying Mei – I can’t help it. I have to tell you this or die!’ he cried out suddenly. ‘I … I love you so much! I can’t bear for you to be taken from me, God help me!’

She froze at the words but he didn’t care. In a few minutes it would all be over anyway and if it was the last thing he did on earth he wanted her to know how deeply, passionately and hopelessly he felt about her.

‘I … I’m sorry, but this is how I am. I’ve tried but I just can’t stop it! My love – it keeps getting stronger and I c-can’t help it!’

Tears came and he gazed at her in dumb misery.

She still sat rigid; then, very deliberately, moved over and knelt down in front of him.

‘Ni K’an Ta. I … I didn’t know!’ she said with an infinite tenderness. ‘You should have told me.’

She took his hands, raised them to her lips and kissed them gently, looking into his eyes with a compassion that was unbearable. ‘For I would tell you … that I care for you too,’ she whispered. ‘I have for a long while but I mustn’t show it. You see, I have to say it: I … I love you too.’

A storm of feeling broke and he tore himself free and stood, his chest heaving. If he didn’t run – flee from the room instantly – he would be overcome.

But before he could move, she was clinging to him, her face buried in his shoulder, weeping brokenly.

His arms went around her in an instinctive comforting but he felt her body pressing into his.

With a roaring in his ears he held her closer.

The warm, soft form yielded to him and they slowly slipped to the floor in each other’s arms.

Images intermingled: robes in disarray, a flash of nakedness, a shoulder, a young breast.

Ying Mei looked up at him, her face impossibly beautiful, dear and precious.

He kissed her again and she responded passionately. Her body under him came alive, awakening and arousing his own in a sweet agony.

Finally, in an uncontrollable ecstasy, they came together in a hard, thrusting convulsion, leaving them both spent.

They clutched each other for a long time as if desperate to hold on to the moment; wild-eyed, ecstatic – fearful of the storm that had passed.

Nicander gathered his robe about him and rose to the couch, fighting back tears at the sight of her naked form, still shuddering with passing spasms.

She collected her scattered garments and joined him, both lost in a haze of unbelief and joy.

Her hand crept into his. ‘I-I’m sorry,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I’m truly sorry. It … it just happened, I couldn’t stop myself.’ Her head fell.

‘Ying Mei, don’t say that!’ he stammered. ‘I love you! So much, so very much – this happened because we love each other, we need each other!’

‘I have disgraced you. You will hate me for seducing you like a common whore.’

Hardly believing his ears he seized her hands and forced her to look up. ‘What are you saying? I don’t understand.’

She looked up at him tearfully. ‘You will never forgive me, for I’ve done something that is wicked, yet I ask you to—’

He stared at her in amazement. ‘You’re saying things that don’t make sense. Please tell me!’

‘Your calling is now affronted. As a holy man you have your standards and—’

‘A holy man!’ he gasped. ‘Is this …’

‘Since that time in the desert you pulled me out of the sand, I’ve looked up to you, admired you – and then loved you as I knew I must not. Now I’ve dishonoured you, shamed you and I bitterly regret it.’ Her eyes filled, imploring his understanding.

At first he couldn’t answer, struck dumb with what he was hearing. Then he tenderly lifted her chin and looking deeply into her eyes said simply, ‘My love, I never was a holy man.’

‘You … you’re saying this to comfort me.’

‘No, it’s true. I couldn’t admit I was not a holy man or you wouldn’t trust me. And then it went on for so long, if I admitted it you’d despise me for an impostor.’

‘Then you’re really not …’

‘No.’

She flung her arms around him and wept in release.

‘My very, very dearest, it should be me who should beg forgiveness. You are a noble lady and … and have a future … and I …’

Touching his lips she murmured, ‘When we’re married …’

‘Married?’ he stuttered, overcome.

‘When two people love each other, it’s the usual thing, I believe.’

In a whirl of emotion he blurted, ‘My darling! I … I …’

‘Dear Ni K’an Ta, we’ve always been meant to be together! And now we shall!’

‘I … I …’

‘And you’re not Ah Yung any more. I’m going to call you the same as Ah Wu does – Ni K’ou. It’s a fine ancient name, and one for the man of my heart.’

He swallowed, hardly able to speak. ‘And you, my very dearest, I shall call you … Callista, the most beautiful.’

She looked long and deeply into his eyes. ‘We will live and love together, you and I, for always and always, to the end of time.’

In a delirium of feeling he pulled her to him, crushing her with tenderness.

‘But what now?’ she whispered.

‘Well …’

‘We’ll live here in Samarkand, but … but I really don’t know that much about you, Ni K’ou. If you’re not a holy man then …?’

‘It was only a means to protect us while we went on our mission.’

‘For the king! How wonderful – do tell me about it!’

‘Later, Callista. Shouldn’t we …?’

‘Oh, yes. They might be back early.’

She gave him a kiss then left the room, calling back, ‘I won’t be long. Don’t go away, Ni K’ou!’

When she returned, sparkling and radiant, he had restored his outward composure but inside he was nearly overwhelmed in an unstoppable tide of happiness.

She came and sat by his side. ‘When will we tell everybody, Ni K’ou?’ she said dreamily. ‘It will surprise them both, don’t you think?’

‘Ah. This could be a problem. Could you hold off telling Tai Yi until after I’ve spoken to Marius? He’s going to need careful handling.’