THE SILK TREE

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

The first day promised well of their journey as they threaded along roads passing sweet-smelling melon beds, orchards with fruit in season and clumps of giant sunflowers three feet across whose seeds Korkut declared were excellent eating.

Soon however they were away from the intensive irrigation works and the familiar desert landscape returned.

Ying Mei rode a steppe pony, now with an easy grace and in colourful riding dress while the ever-faithful Tai Yi walked beside her. Then came Meng Hsiang and tagging along beside was Meng Hsiao, getting used to being away from the females and other young.

Marius had quickly adopted the lazy sway of a cameleer, finding there was no need to hang on at all.

At midday it was Nicander’s turn to ride and he tried to copy Marius’s easy posture as the rhythm of stately sway and rocking took hold. But when the camel train came to a halt that evening he was grateful to be able to stretch his aching muscles.

The stopping place was well chosen, between two spurs of the Tien Shan and with firm ground. The crew energetically got to work in anticipation of the entertainment. The space around the fire was widened and traveller and cameleer quickly found places.

Ying Mei felt an expectant thrill. These, of course, would not be as accomplished as performers at the imperial court but their stage was the grand spectacle of the desert at night, under the stars by the dancing flames of the firelight.

A troupe of musicians came on with their instruments and squatted to one side, opening with a lively piece.

The show started with the acrobats: young girls in crimson blouses and green tasselled trousers skilfully leaping and throwing each other aloft in time to the music.

When the applause finished they scampered off to allow a pair of dancers to steal in opposite one another. The slim-waisted woman had dark curled locks and long legs half-concealed within mysterious gauze finery. The man, in a dashing costume with sparkling gems on his bared chest, prowled like a panther around her to the sensuous throbbing of the drum.

Ying Mei stole a glance at the two holy men: Marius was rapt, watching with undisguised excitement the intertwined playing of hands and the woman’s wanton pout.

Nicander was taking it in, but had a distracted frown – was this because he was disapproving or was he regretting his status as a holy man?

As the dance livened Ying Mei found herself caught up in its charged atmosphere. Beside her Tai Yi shifted uncomfortably so she quickly assumed an immobile expression in the best traditions of an imperial court.

The acrobats came on again with somersaults and juggling and were followed by three female contortionists who drew gasps from the crowd.

Ying Mei noticed Nicander and Marius lean back in conversation. Was this not to their foreign taste?

In fact, she wondered, what was?

She knew nothing about them, really – they were barbarians, from somewhere in the outer world beyond the bounds of civilisation. But did they have any culture or civilisation of their own – she doubted it, for all the peoples she had heard of shaded by degrees from the Middle Kingdom’s delicacy and elegance into the unspeakable brutality of its far borderlands.

Her protectors were holy men seeking after truths, so it was understandable that they would come to China in this quest. Who could foresee that they would be caught by pirates and sold into slavery? The strange part was that now neither seemed particularly interested in the gentility and aesthetics of the greatest civilisation of them all.

Yet they were taking back to their kingdom a wonderful treasure of precious works of literature and philosophy – which neither of them was able to read! What did this say about their mission to seek the great truths of mankind?

There could be only one explanation: their searing experiences at Yeh Ch’eng had soured them on Chinese culture.

And, she reminded herself, the works they carried and looked after so well in their little chest were there only as ‘holy scriptures’ as a cover for their leaving China and would probably be discarded at the first opportunity.

A new set of performers pranced on, the famous Sogdian whirling dancers, entrancing the crowd with trailing ribbons and dazzling smiles.

Ying Mei glanced again at Nicander and Marius; both seemed to be enjoying this part of the show – or was it the Turfan wine?

One thing was certain: the freedoms and spice of danger was making this the adventure of a lifetime for her. It wouldn’t last, though. Sooner or later they would cross the mountains and she would be duly delivered to the Western Lands and left to find a new life.

She had to face it with courage and resolve – which for her father’s sake she would – but it was a frightening thought. Was there nothing that could prepare her for exile?

Then a daring thought came. She would get the holy men to teach her the language of their tribe, and as well perhaps discover what it was like to live there, the customs and etiquette of the natives. She had her gold secreted away with more to be withdrawn from her uncle’s agent in Kucha but would this be enough to sustain the life of a gentle lady in their society?

How amusing to think of Marius teaching her elements of societal delicacy! It would be fun – but on reflection she realised that Nicander was more suited. He had been quicker to pick up spoken Chinese and was intelligent enough to go about selecting what were the more important aspects for her to learn on his side. But with his religious outlook would he agree to teach a woman?

There was one thing she could offer. In return for teaching her his barbarian ways she could make him literate – teach him written Chinese so that when he arrived back, the ‘scriptures’ would have some value.

The more she thought about it the better she liked the idea. She would make it her mission to reveal to him the enthralling beauty of the poetics and subtle strength of the prose of the ancients, to bring him to a realisation and respect of the glory that was Chinese culture.

The last act, a trio of madcap dwarfs, ended the entertainment in a riot of laughs.

‘Well done!’ Ying Mei called and was generous when the gratuities bowl went round.

‘Ah Yung, did you enjoy it?’ she called sweetly.

Tai Yi threw a reproving look at Ying Mei.

She ignored her and went over to Nicander. ‘There’s something I want to ask you, a favour which I would very much appreciate.’

‘Why, if it’s possible, of course.’

‘I was just thinking. I’m to go to the Western Lands and then you’ll leave me there and I’ll be on my own. I’d be grateful if before then you could teach me your language, tell me what to expect and prepare for. In return I agree to teach you Chinese characters so then you’ll be able to read your scriptures when you get back.’

Tai Yi bristled. ‘My Lady! This is impossible! These two are barbarians and it’s well known that such are quite incapable of a true understanding of the sages. A waste of time!’

‘Really?’ said Nicander. ‘Then, Lai hsiao chieh, I’d be interested in your views of why Lao Tzu denies transcendence in the Tao. How can this be?’

Ying Mei laughed in delighted surprise. ‘You know of the Tao? How wonderful! But… how did you… when you can’t read the works of the masters?’

‘I had a wise teacher.’ He eased into a smile. ‘It’s an attractive offer. Yes, I agree – a fair exchange.’

As usual they moved out at daybreak, taking nearly half an hour to unwind into the long camel train. It was hot, the fierce heat radiating up from the sandy ground, but they were used to it now, wearing wide hats and loose robes and keeping with the relaxed gait of the camels.

Ying Mei eased her pony to the side and dismounted. She pressed it on Tai Yi then waited for the men to come up with her.

‘Ah Yung – you made me a promise last night.’

‘To teach you our tongue?’

‘Yes, and I mean to keep you to it!’

‘Very well – tonight will be lesson one, and-’

‘Why not now? It’s so boring doing nothing. Let’s start right away!’

‘But I haven’t thought of the lesson yet.’

‘Nonsense. Come on, we’ll go and keep Tai Yi company and begin.’

She looked up at Marius riding Meng Hsiao. ‘You’ll be able to look after the camels, won’t you, Ah Wu?’

Tai Yi twisted around in her saddle to see what was going on.

‘We’re going to learn about the Western Lands, and Ah Yung is going to teach us.’

Nicander frowned. It really was unfair. The woman was expecting, on the spot, a grammar lesson in Greek, the most precise and logical linguistic structure in the known world. Where was the wax tablet and stylus, the board and chalk – even the word lists of meanings? Ying Mei herself wasn’t helping the situation. Since emerging from her Ice Queen personality he had discovered that she was bright and had a sense of humour that rose above the fearsome conditions. Not only that but he was uncomfortably aware that she was no ordinary attractive woman – she had elements of beauty that were classic in their lines and symmetry of the kind that he’d only seen before on ancient statuary.

She paced expectantly next to him, flashing an encouraging smile.

‘We’re ready, Ah Yung!’

‘Well, the first thing you must know is that the structure of Greek – the tongue of Hellenica that is,’ remembering Dao Pa’s term, ‘will be that it is-’

‘No, no, the most important things first. When I arrive, will I be dressed correctly? I mean, what do the ladies wear?’

‘Can we not leave this for later? There is so much to learn.’

‘If you insist. But first you must tell us about your tribe and village. How big is it? Does your family own many water buffalo? In your house are there many slaves?’

Tai Yi leant down from the horse. ‘She means she wants to know about the kingdoms and their history. When we get there, what will we see?’

‘Yes, yes. But it’s not so easy. Let me see… Well, we can start with the first civilisation, which began nearly one and a half thousand years ago in the land we call Greece…’

He was no professional teacher but he thought he’d made quite a good fist of explaining origins, the rise of the Greeks and their superior culture, and then the Romans overwhelming them yet taking their philosophy and thought as their own.

There were no Chinese names, of course, for the people and cities and he made them up. When she knew more Greek he’d correct her understanding.

‘If the Roman dynasty rules Greece, why do we not learn their tongue – this Latin instead of Greek?’

He would have to be careful with Ying Mei, she was very quick.

‘Ah. Well, in the top ruling dynasty in Constantinople there is little Latin left, everyone speaks Greek as being the superior form. But don’t mention this to Marius, he’s a Roman himself.’

‘Is he?’

Nicander felt a stab of irritation at her look of wide-eyed wonder. ‘Yes, but many say they are much debased now.’

‘Then why is he your friend?’

‘Because… because we set out on our mission together, that’s all.’

‘How wonderful! Tell me, why…’

Nicander didn’t want the conversation to go this way and have to lie to her.

He assumed a stiff expression. ‘You must know that there is one central sea. It is called the Mediterranean and is bordered by the burning regions to the south and the frozen regions to the north, and…’

The time passed quickly but he had to beg fatigue when the searing heat made it difficult to think.

That evening at the meal Ying Mei shyly came over to sit by him. ‘I did enjoy our lesson, Ah Yung. I can see now how much there is to learn.’

‘It was my pleasure.’ To his surprise he found he meant it.

‘And I haven’t forgotten our bargain. I’ve talked with Tai Yi and we’ve found an arrangement that will serve as your classroom.’

‘You’re really going to teach me to write?’ He was keen to have the means to read the words of the masters but he’d assumed the offer was a token one to save face. How could it be possible in these conditions?

‘Yes. After we’ve eaten we start your first lesson.’

‘My dear!’ Zarina called across. ‘You look so well tonight! While we’re all so weary, it’s not fair you know.’

‘It must be the mountain air coming down, I find it so refreshing.’

‘Forgive me for bringing it up, but I can’t help thinking that it won’t be so long before we reach Aksu and… well, your father might be… and you so… happy?’

Without a moment’s hesitation Ying Mei smiled sadly. ‘That is true – but just between you and me I’ve never really known him, being away all the time like he is, and when he comes home he’s a beastly tyrant. I go to him only out of filial duty, you see.’

‘I understand, my dear. You are a good and obedient daughter.’

Nicander’s classroom turned out to be the ladies’ tent. It was just large enough for them to sit cross-legged on a cushion opposite each other while Tai Yi occupied herself to one side. The master stroke was using her folding horse-mounting stool as a desk, complete with a little oil lamp.

‘This is really very thoughtful of you, Ying Mei,’ he said sincerely. ‘I’ll try to be a good disciple.’

‘I’m sure you will.’

‘But what will we use for the writing?’

‘Ah. My teacher today told me there is much to learn first. I think these are very wise words.’

He grinned. ‘He must be a fine teacher. So what must we do?’

She assumed a grave expression. ‘The first is to acquire a proper respect for the power of the characters, the play between words and meaning. Please listen carefully to this quatrain.’

Closing her eyes she recited:

‘Than colours of the peony

my raiment is more fair.

The breeze across the palace lake

takes fragrance from my hair’.

‘You see? So sublime – and only four characters in each line. And this one…’

For Nicander, who only knew the tongue from workaday utility and Dao Pa’s stern metaphysics, the beauty leapt out at him. She recited three more and then got out her portable writing set, an inkstone and a selection of brushes on their stand.

Taking just one character from each line she showed how a delicate shading of understanding was built up by a coalescing of the individual meanings of its elements. Then she used the same character several times in company with others. In each case the totality of what was derived had a subtle difference.

Where each Greek word was fixed and immutable in meaning, in Chinese it was a much more supple process. If in Greek there was no exact word for an intended meaning then it was too bad, the conceit could not be put across. In this language, however, something could be built up in order to match the precise requirement of what was intended; there was the possibility of an infinite variation.

It was a revelation.