THE SILK TREE

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

‘Where the hell have you been, Nico?’ Marius asked indignantly. ‘I get this stupid message about you stopping at the monastery, which of course you didn’t, did you? On the town with one o’ those Kuchean tarts, I reckon!’

‘Actually I was there. Learning to look inside myself, see past things into the real world…’ He tailed off.

‘So you’re going to join that Buddha crew, spend your day on all that fool mumbling!’

‘No, I won’t. The sage who I’ve been talking to isn’t one of those, he takes all philosophy and learning as one and-’

‘Well don’t start boring me with it all. Don’t you know you missed the Feast o’ Lanterns? Had to take the women myself, all that ooh and aah at these pretty lights on the water and stuff. Bloody fine eating after, though, believe me. Anyway, Su Li is in a fit, wants to be away off while things are right for us.’

The caravan master was everywhere, chivvying, driving, directing. Another camel train had come through from the opposite direction and had reported that there were no troubles in the oasis realms that lay ahead of them and that the going was good. Su let it be known he would be displeased at anyone who got in his way, or made it difficult for the caravan to leave for Karashahr within the next day or two.

‘No, that won’t be possible.’ Tai Yi was in no mood to change her mind about spending good money. ‘My Lady Kuo has a mount, you do not.’

So it was ‘Lady Kuo’ still, as far as she was concerned. ‘Not even a camel?’

‘Certainly not! You will walk, as will I, and there’s an end to it.’

It would be sand the whole way by all accounts so they took Korkut’s advice and found special shoes in the market. These laced up tight above the ankles and being made of camel skin had a flexibility the heavier ox-hide did not.

‘Bugger that old woman,’ Marius grated. ‘What right has she-’

‘She’s the one with the silver,’ Nicander replied matter-of-factly. ‘So we walk.’

‘I’ve a mind to do something about it. Come on.’

They went to the caravanserai where the camels were being prepared. Nicander was pleased when Meng Hsiang gave a snort of recognition.

‘He’s remembering me!’ he chuckled to Arif, the young cameleer who was combing him down.

‘If you are kind to him, of course!’

Marius didn’t waste time. ‘How are the females?’

‘Two sick, lost five calves on the way – why do you want to know? You going to buy one?’

‘How many young ’uns?’

‘Thirty-two – no, six.’

‘You’ll get a good price for ’em all when they’re ready.’

‘Yes?’ Arif said warily.

‘I’ll tell you what we’ll do for you. Any young beasts as are newly broken in, why, we’ll take one and by riding him all day get him used to the saddle, like. You can sell him for more that way.’

Arif grinned. ‘I understand. We do this if you man enough!’

‘Go and get one, let’s try it.’

The cameleer went to a string of young camels at a rail and patted one affectionately before untying it and bringing it over. ‘Meng Hsiao – baby Meng. One of your Meng Hsiang’s own sons.’

The father gave a glassy stare of indifference but the young one pawed the ground restlessly, his eyes rolling.

‘Say hello, he know who you are.’

Marius came forward cautiously but before he could say anything the head reared up and a frightful set of bared teeth clashed ominously.

‘Hey, hey, Meng Hsiao, he a friend,’ Arif said reprovingly, then to Marius, ‘Touch his muzzle, talk.’

The long-lashed eyes were beautiful and Marius reached out to stroke the downy brown fur. The head recoiled and before he could react the camel spat at him, stinking ejecta catching him on his cheek and shoulder.

‘The fucking bastard!’ Marius roared in Latin, wiping his face, ‘He’s scored one on me!’

The camel jibbed fretfully.

‘Try – hold your hand in front of his nose so he smell you, then do.’

Eventually they came to speaking terms and Arif was satisfied. ‘Now we ride him.’

Meng Hsiao was made to kneel, which he did unwillingly.

‘Get on.’

Marius gingerly slid between the two humps, holding on by a scruff of hair on the mane. ‘Where’s the reins?’ he demanded.

‘This not a horse, lao na,’ Arif said. ‘You ready?’

The camel snarled menacingly, its head twisting to see what was on its back.

‘Yes. Get it going.’

Arif thwacked its hindquarters. Meng Hsiao gave an ill-tempered low grumble.

He gave another slap. Without warning the back legs levered up on the knuckled forefeet and Marius was jerked forward wildly. His grip on the mane was the only thing that saved him from a hard landing but then the front legs came into play and he shot backwards, hanging on grimly.

Marius found himself sitting precariously atop a nervously gyrating camel. The animal eventually settled and stood still, the hide on its back giving nervous twitches as though trying to rid itself of a foreign object.

‘Well done!’ Arif said with a wide smile.

Marius clung on tightly to the mane. ‘How do you steer the beggar?’

‘Don’t worry. Meng Hsiao follow his father, who is bigger.’

‘Well, then. Now make him let me off.’

There were newcomers joining the caravan: a troupe of entertainers who plied the northern route and a party of monks on their way to the oases of the west. Two of the merchants had decided that they’d had enough and after disposing of their wares planned to return as soon as possible but the others were keen to take advantage of a caravan heading in that direction.

In the morning, bright and early, they set out again.

But of Dao Pa, there was no sign at all.