THE SILK TREE

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Reflected moonlight splintered into myriad shards on the river as groups of people prepared their floats on the bank. Sitting on a rock ledge, watching as the Feast of Lanterns reached its climax, Ying Mei sighed deeply.

From here and there bright points of light started then a couple would go to the water’s edge and launch their tiny craft. At the base of the little incense-stick mast a message was tied, known only to them.

It would gradually be consumed but not before the couple’s wish had been read by the kindly gods.

Soon the whole river was a dazzling display of bobbing floats intermingling as they were carried away on their romantic mission. She watched as they sailed further and further along until the pinpricks of light began to disappear one by one.

Ying Mei was happier now than she had been for an achingly long time. On this adventure she was tasting a freedom she had never before experienced in her life. No more stifling correctness of court, rigid rules and excruciating rituals of etiquette. No longer was there the necessity to guard every word and move for fear it could be used against an innocent, and gone too was the train of those set about her, watching her day and night. Now there was only the ever-faithful Lai Tai Yi, at the moment down at the water playing with the children.

Dear Ah Lai! She had made the sacrifice of her own future to accompany her into exile and share whatever lay ahead. And she was watching over her just as she had when she’d been a child and now had gamely taken on this very different world.

She hoped that she had not disappointed too much in her behaviour but it really was impossible to sustain the front of a noble lady any more. Later, when the journey was over she would mend her ways.

She looked to where Marius, also down at the river, was rescuing a float for a crying child.

Her father had been very astute in choosing her two protectors, for apart from being from the Western Lands themselves they were holy men and therefore to be trusted.

She smiled as she remembered their arrival and transformation from holy men on a quest, into the beastmaster’s star comic turn. It must have been hard for them, especially for the big Ma Lai Ssu who stood every inch the proud barbarian.

She wondered why he had chosen to be a holy man on a sacred mission for there was little that was outwardly sensitive or contemplative about him. Bold-eyed and confident he strode fearlessly through life and stepped aside for no man. This was not the bearing or attitude of the clerics she knew.

And he looked as if he’d seen a lot of the world, one not to be too easily taken by surprise, who could be relied on in frightening situations. In fact, he had the build of a warrior with that deep chest, muscular arms and those massive thews she had seen at the river as they were escaping.

She caught herself: was she physically excited by Ma Lai Ssu? He was a barbarian, uncouth and with crude Chinese but as a man he stood head and shoulders above the rest she had known. Others in the court she was familiar with were primped and pampered, knew poetry and the classics but they had little…

It was odd, though. The two holy men were so different to each other.

Ni K’an Ta was more of a mystery – the more perceptive of the two, he had been cooler to her. Was this because he didn’t like her? Or was he holding himself distant because of his piety and vows? He had spent a lot of time at the monastery in retreat, even missing this feast. Yes, it was probably that – he was holding true to his calling, and she must respect this.

But then again, could it be that he was disappointed in her behaviour? That he expected more of the noblewoman? She vowed to be more ladylike the next time she met him.

Even so, it was strange that she had never seen or heard either of them at their devotions. This could be that they worshipped a god of the night who could not be approached during daylight. But it was not proper for her to pry.

Marius came up from the water, laughing. ‘Stupid child got the frights, thought I was a hungry ghost!’ he chuckled, stroking his dark beard.

‘Do sit!’ she commanded, shifting along to make room for him.

Surprised, the big man obeyed. She became aware immediately of the musky scent of masculinity and its secret thrill caught her off guard.

‘Ah Wu,’ she said self-consciously. ‘The fierce one. A good name for you, I think, don’t you?’

‘Yes, M’ Lady,’ he said.

‘It’s Ying Mei.’

‘Y-Ying Mei.’

She was touched – he was shy with her, like a little boy!

‘That’s better. Tell me, Ah Wu, what tribe do you come from?’

‘I’m a Roman!’ he growled.

‘Wo Mun. “The culture of the commonality”. Wonderful! A deep meaning indeed.’

He didn’t reply and lowered his head awkwardly.

‘Tell me. When you decided to become a holy man, did your family approve?’

‘I didn’t ask ’em.’

‘Not even the… lady you were attached to?’

‘No.’

‘So you gave her up for a holy life. Do you miss her?’

‘Why are you asking me questions?’

‘Well, it always puzzles me that the first thing a holy man does is to put away his feelings for the opposite sex. Can you not feel it in you to respond to the love of a woman – that is, if it is true and honourable?’

He looked at her with a twisted smile. ‘I reckon that whichever way you say it, a holy man can only be man first, holy second. Is that what you’re asking?’

Ying Mei felt herself blushing. ‘I didn’t wish to intrude, please forgive me.’