THE SILK TREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Nicander gazed out on a flatness so vast it was limitless. A deadness – where nothing lived, the eternal grey-brown dust and sand with occasional clumps and tufts of desiccated vegetation stretching out in ever-tinier detail until it dissolved into nothingness at the horizon where the desert met the hard blue sky.

And with it a silence descended that was so profound that his ears filled the void with a soundless screaming.

For weeks – and countless miles – they had travelled in company with a solid, reassuringly visible work of man – the Great Wall of China. The wall came to an end in a tall open structure with upturned eaves above a massive portal, the Jade Gate. The act of passing through this was the formal leaving of the Middle Kingdom, China.

After this point they were entirely on their own.

Near overwhelmed with the sense of desolation and loneliness he trudged back to the safety and familiarity of the caravan in time to farewell Wu Kuo Chin, the young officer, who took his leave with a wooden face.

‘A great honour for him,’ Nicander murmured to Korkut.

‘Ha! He’s going to a living death, and he knows it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He’s to command a band of criminals, slaves and broken-down misfits sent here for punishment. They have to man those watchtowers and shift for themselves, there’s nobody cares what happens to them. No glory to be won here, only sudden raids by brigands and those bastard Hsien Pei Mongols.’

‘The Great Wall, how long has it been here?’

‘Why, this part… from the time of Western Han. Five, six hundred years.’

Nicander shook his head at the thought that it had been manned continuously for centuries even before Julius Caesar had seized power in old Rome.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Marius, and gave a hail.

His friend waved, his clothes, like Nicander’s own, were now dust-stained and worn. ‘Just heard. We’ve been called up before Su. Wants to talk about what we’re going to face or something.’

It wasn’t a large, formal meeting. The camel-drivers and passage crew were busy at their preparations and knew what was expected but Su was taking no chances with the travellers.

He stood at the centre of a loose circle: Korkut, his lively wife, the monks in a group, others, some thirty in all – and the Ice Queen.

She had compromised her courtly appearance and was now dressed in a plainer robe with less ornately styled hair. Her expression, however, was the same – a patrician stare above the common herd, a controlled blankness.

Su’s bluff features had a serious cast. ‘You’re seeing me because I want you to hear me tell you what’s ahead. To leave you in no doubt what you have to do if it starts getting rough.

‘The first thing for you to know is that I’m in command of this caravan and therefore responsible for it. That means you do exactly what I say. Understood?’

He looked from one to the other. ‘Very well. The second is just as important. Never leave the caravan. We carry only so much water, camel feed and so on and that means the caravan never stops. Not even to look for anyone who’s missing, wandered off somewhere. We never go back!’

Checking to see he still had their full attention he went on, ‘Up to now we’ve more often than not stayed at a comfortable caravanserai. That’s all over. We’re going on our own resources by day-stages as fast as we can across the plains between oasis stops, where we rest and take on fresh victuals and water. There’s no roads, no paths – if you ramble off you’ll never find your way back, you’ll leave your bones as a warning to others.’

He continued. ‘Water. More precious than gold – you have your own gourds during the day which you’ll only be able to refill from our skins at the end of the day. Never more than three sips at a go, relish it before you swallow.’

‘What about attacks by raiders, barbarians?’ one of the monks wanted to know.

‘We’re a good-sized caravan but with an escort to match. No band of raiders is likely to trouble us, but they might if they’re desperate. If it happens, we’ll have the camels form a circle and get down, you stay behind them while our archers and cavalry deal with ’em. Don’t stray or run, stay until we give the word.’

Su continued. ‘So where are we going? This is the start of the southern caravan route. The first stop is Dunhuang, then we’ll be keeping close to the mountains all the way to Khotan. It won’t be pleasant but believe me it’s better than the northern route across the desert!’

‘What will it be like for us?’

‘Going’s good, if that’s what you mean. Plenty of water from snowmelt off the Kunluns but pretty bare else. Sooner we get through the better.’

One of his crew signalled to him.

‘We’re ready to move out. Remember what I’ve just said. The season’s advanced but we’re on time. Should have a good run.’

His confidence was reassuring and they mounted up quickly.

Soon the camel train was moving out, every pace setting more distance from civilisation, the world of men and order – deeper into an arid wasteland. A few heads turned back to catch a last glimpse of the Jade Gate, now a forlorn outpost in a sea of desert.

The sun reached its zenith and they plodded on. It began to descend but before the usual violet dusk of the desert stole in, Su had found his place for the night; a twist of sand and rock that had given shelter for a line of grey-green camel thorn and a flat area to settle.

A fire was quickly started and the well-practised routines of preparing for the night were begun. In respect for the cold of the desert nights Nicander and Marius had now accepted a tent.

This evening seemed in some way different. Was it the certain knowledge that they were utterly alone at the empty heart of the universe? That they would meet no others until they reached the next oasis?

The fire flared and spat but already people were moving to be near it, as all around the darkness fell silently and completely.

‘Korkut sheng, where is your wife?’ Nicander said, needing to reach out.

‘As always, she paints her face as if she’s to meet the king of the fairies the next hour. She’ll be here – if only to hear the gossip.’ The burly merchant’s face was impassive as it was lit by the firelight.

‘Well, Ya? Your men are posted?’ Korkut asked.

The commander of the escort, a self-important and opinionated ex-soldier of obscure origins, was condescending to sit with the travellers instead of his customary holding court in his own tent.

‘Of course.’

Nicander found it difficult to follow the thick accent; the man was reputedly a Uighur due to his almost Western features – and brutal treatment of his men.

Zarina stepped into the firelight in a profusion of fur and exuberantly coloured leggings. ‘Good evening, everyone!’ she beamed, and took up position next to her husband.

‘Good to see you in spirits, habib,’ he said, helping to arrange her cloak.

‘Yes, dear. I’m always feeling better when I have so many big men about to protect me. You know the desert frightens me.’

‘As I keep telling you, demons are terrified by fire – as long as those lazy beggars keep it going you’ve nothing to worry about.’

‘Oh? You men never stop to think what it is for us ladies. What if we have to go out into the dark to… you know… what then?’

‘Then, beloved, it is clear I must go with you, whatever your business.’

There was laughter but it tailed off as a figure came out of the blackness, moving gracefully towards them.

It was Ying Mei.

No one spoke as she entered the firelight and looked about uncertainly.

Until now she had kept to herself, taking her meals in her carriage and seldom seen.

She was in a plain robe and held a shawl close.

Seeing Nicander she went to him. ‘May I sit with you, Ni lao na?’ she asked in an even tone, her elegant poise not out of place at a court reception.

Thunderstruck at being addressed directly for the first time, he stood up. ‘Why, of course, Lady P’eng.’

Tai Yi silently appeared with a travelling cushion.

Nicander took his place again slowly, aware that not a word had been spoken by the others. Ying Mei sat next to him, looking modestly into the fire.

What did it mean?

Zarina smiled at Ying Mei. ‘You’ll have had a dusty ride in the carriage, my dear. How do you keep yourself so…?’ The well-meant opening faltered at the realisation that she had forgotten the complex honorific due a lady – who of course in any event was not to be troubled with such trivialities.

‘A woman’s appearance is her chief ornamentation, without which pearls and gold lose their meaning,’ was the quick reply. ‘As your own appearance and dress does so well confirm. It is our duty to the world, is it not?’

‘If it please you, Lady P’eng, we’ve been concerned you’ll suffer much in this journey,’ Korkut said awkwardly. ‘It must be for some very important reason, I fear.’

His wife glared at him but Ying Mei answered in the same quiet, level voice. ‘I’m called to my father in Aksu who lies ill. I shall obey him, I believe.’

‘Oh, yes, of course,’ Korkut said hastily with a quick wink at Zarina. ‘We understand.’

A familiar bong started up at the kitchen and before long a steaming wheel-sized platter arrived. Nicander pulled out his bowl. The serving man hesitated then humbly went over to Ying Mei and offered the dish, kneeling with his head bowed.

‘Thank you,’ she said equably and reached out delicately with her chopsticks. Selecting a choice collop of mutton she offered it to Nicander.

He could hardly believe it. This was a common gesture of politeness in Chinese society – but among equals. Was this…

Ying Mei then did the same for Marius and Tai Yi as well, before helping herself.

Nicander struggled to make sense of what was happening. Was it because her self-imposed isolation in this vast emptiness was no longer bearable and she was craving warmth and fellowship? Had the Ice Queen melted? He didn’t know whether to be relieved or scornful. But how far did it go?

‘It must have felt quite a wrench to leave China?’ he said.

‘Yes.’ Her expression was composed but she did not catch his eye.

‘I suppose you’re wondering when you’ll hear proper Chinese again,’ he continued.

She froze – and he saw that her eyes were glistening.

He tried to make light of it. ‘But not before we’ve had a few more interesting adventures, I’d say.’

‘I’d call ’em more trials,’ rumbled Korkut, tucking into more mutton. ‘The stretch between Cherchen and Niya is particularly bad. I remember when-’

‘Are you not feeling well, dear?’ Zarina said in sudden concern, looking at Ying Mei.

She got up and went to her, squeezing her shoulder gently but Ying Mei did not respond, and held herself rigid.

‘The first time’s always hard. Leaving behind-’

‘Thank you, Korkut tai tai,’ Tai Yi said, helping Ying Mei to her feet. ‘The Lady P’eng will now retire to rest.’ She shepherded her unresisting mistress away.

‘Odd sort of woman,’ Korkut muttered, picking at his teeth.

‘No she’s not!’ Zarina snorted. ‘The poor lamb – she’s homesick, that’s all.’