THE SILK TREE

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

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!’