The Silk Tree

Home > Other > The Silk Tree > Page 21
The Silk Tree Page 21

by Julian Stockwin


  They were led along paths lined with peonies and trees, through several courtyards, and then past a series of modest buildings of a charming style to a formal hall.

  It was delicately appointed in the same spare, elegant taste as his brother.

  They sat by a low table, Ying Mei close to her uncle. A set of tiny porcelain dishes was brought and a larger container used to decant a fragrant steaming liquor.

  Kuo told Nicander, ‘You may not yet have tried jasmine cha.’

  Nicander lifted the dish and caught a subtle aroma – there were tiny leaf fragments and a dried white blossom floating in the tea. It was delicious.

  ‘Now, my dear, tell me. How is your father?’

  Ying Mei replied without emotion, ‘Uncle, this is why I’ve come. I beg that before you hear me, you desire all of your household to leave save yourself.’

  In the same controlled tone she laid out what Kao Yang’s usurping of the Dragon Throne had cost her family.

  It was the first time Nicander had heard the full story, and despite himself, his heart went out to her.

  To stand helpless while her father was mutilated, to hear that her mother had hanged herself in shame soon after, and that all the time she had been living with the constant fear of being taken up as a concubine by the tyrant was deeply shocking.

  She had held her dignity for her father’s sake and, like him, had done her duty as she saw it. With the Emperor’s cruel putting to death of his own son they had felt released of the bonds of loyalty.

  Kuo’s face went pale and when she passed him a letter from her father his hand trembled.

  He read, twice, then turned aside.

  She waited quietly, her face an impenetrable mask.

  Recovering himself, Kuo addressed her gently. ‘Your father is a great philosopher, a worthy disciple of the sages and a loving and dutiful father. And I will not refuse him. But in this he is asking for more than he can possibly realise. The obstacles to be faced are very severe. On the other hand you have little choice: your fleeing the Emperor’s court has earned his rage and vengeance – you will be hunted for the rest of your days. Or his.’

  He went to the door and looked out, then resumed his place. ‘So – you seek to leave China for exile in the Western Lands. Are you still resolved on this?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Not Japan or Korea, as others have done?’

  ‘My father despises their debasing of our civilisation, and as well, fears that the Emperor’s agents have influence even there.’

  ‘So he wishes you to be entirely out of the reach of the Emperor.’

  ‘Yes, Uncle.’

  ‘Therefore beyond the influence of our civilised ways, into the land of the barbarians. This is hard indeed, my child.’

  ‘Our history has many instances of a princess journeying beyond civilisation in obedience to her father. How am I to be so different?’

  ‘Very well. I bow to your wishes, my dear. Now, you gentlemen …?’

  Nicander answered. ‘We have sworn to your brother that we will stand by his daughter until she has reached her sanctuary.’

  ‘That is most noble in you, sir. May I enquire where you come from?’

  Wary, he knew the question would not have been asked if Kuo had mentioned it in the letter.

  ‘Sir, from a small kingdom far away, it is of no consequence for we came by sea. We are seekers after truth and have travelled far in our wandering.’

  ‘I honour you for it. Yet the obstacles remain a threat to you all. I shall be frank. I am a merchant in silk and it is in my interest to know of far places to learn of the market there, prices, demand. Yet my knowledge extends only to the oasis towns in the great desert before the mountains. Past these, no one knows what is there.

  ‘We merchants consign our stock and sell to the highest price as advised to us by our agents in those places, the most distant of which is in a place called Aksu, still far from the mountains. That is to say, this is as far as my knowledge and influence extends. I cannot help you any further. After Aksu … you are on your own.’

  ‘How will we go on from there?’

  ‘You will join a caravan leaving here for those regions. They are large, some several hundred camels is the usual number. These go to an agreed destination, like Dunhuang, Khotan and such, so the merchant may plan to send his freight there. On arrival there may be an entirely different caravan going on – the silk is transferred and the original caravan returns. The furthest I personally have sent a freight is Kucha. The merchants in the various cities know the market prices and conditions further on the route, having their own agents out there. They can advise of caravans going on and make arrangements for you.’

  ‘So we travel by camel caravan.’

  ‘Yes. Do understand that the purpose of these caravans is the moving of freight – you are only a variety of goods requiring special handling.’

  ‘Then people regularly travel?’

  ‘On the nearer routes, often. Officers relieving outer garrisons, imperial messengers, merchants consulting agents, but the further parts very rarely. In fact, I can tell you that I know of not a one who has gone beyond the last oasis towns, as you must. There have been famous travellers who have gone into the mountains, devout monks wishing to reach India to acquire the original writings of the Buddha, but only very few, and none whatsoever any further.’

  ‘Sir, are you not curious what lies at such a distance?’ Nicander asked respectfully.

  ‘We Chinese have little interest in barbarian peoples. To journey into the direction of the setting sun can only end in regions of darkness at the edge of the world. Whatever is the nature of the tribes there makes no difference to the price they seem willing to pay for our silk.’

  He gave a wry smile. ‘But of course, I’m forgetting the Sogdians.’

  ‘I know little of them, sir.’

  ‘These are peoples who make a profession of running the caravans. You will find them in every town, every stage. Your caravan master you can be sure will be a Sogdian, and they speak among themselves the intelligence to make a crossing, but never to we. The secrets of the way are theirs and they are jealous to keep them so. It is possible they do know what is beyond the mountains but we will never learn of it.’

  ‘Then, sir, it is clear: we join another caravan at Aksu for our onward journey.’

  Kuo’s face set. ‘Before you go further, I find it my duty to express something of the horrors – yes, I use that term – of the journey. As you move away from here, you will enter a region of madness. You will reach the edge of a desert that is an empty wilderness that stretches for eternity. You will then leave the world of mankind entirely and enter upon a place where you have nothing save what is carried on you, no friend but who is on the camel ahead, no stranger will you meet but the fiends and demons of the desert.

  ‘The heat of the day is all but unendurable, at night the cold can petrify a man. Sandstorms arise that mount to the heavens in blackness and grief to fall upon the hapless traveller and force him to his knees to scour him mercilessly before burying him.

  ‘And all the time there is no living thing save the caravan, which moves at the pace of a walk, yet it has to exist on its own resources until it finds the next oasis. If it does not, or misses this place, the next caravan will find its bones.

  ‘If you think this a small risk, know that not three years ago a Turfan caravan of over a thousand camels was overdue at the Yi Wu oasis. It had vanished into the emptiness and no one knows why, it was never found nor a soul survived to tell of it. And I have to tell you this is not uncommon. I beg you, reflect on what you are contemplating. This I beseech you!’

  ‘We go on,’ Ying Mei said. ‘It is my father’s wish.’

  Kuo hesitated, then spoke. ‘Very well. I shall begin preparation. As your father would remind you, Confucius confides, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step” and so it is in our case.’

  ‘We are in your hands, Un
cle.’

  ‘Then, to the first consideration. To leave China is a serious matter – there are the customs, of course, and you will be searched for contraband, but above all your passes will be demanded.’

  ‘Passes?’

  ‘Signed by the military commander that you are no threat, are not spies, are known to the authorities as loyal subjects of the Empire and, most importantly, have good reason to leave. These will be sighted by the caravan master before he lets you join. I need to arrange these for you with General Wu. For that, I will have to find a story that satisfies.’

  He pondered. ‘Here we have a well-born lady summoned by her father to attend on his final sickness in, say, Aksu. She is accompanied by a lady attendant, naturally. That is the easier. She is under the protection of two holy men – that is the harder. These two are clearly foreigners and therefore suspect. However, she can vouch for them and carries a letter under the seal of a well-known abbot of a monastery here in Chang An.

  ‘I think it best if these holy men carried some token of their truth-seeking, an earnest of their studies while here in China, something to take back with them to their native kingdom. By way of holy scriptures, as it were. I’m thinking of the Great Learning and Mencius, perhaps?’

  He looked pointedly at Ying Mei.

  She bit her lip then said in flat tones, ‘The Doctrine of the Mean, Uncle. The Classic of Changes and of course the Analects have meaning comprehensible even to the barbarous.’

  ‘Splendid! I think we have our story! Oh, your family name must change of course, my dear. That of my agent in Aksu is P’eng, you shall borrow it for now. And these faithful gentlemen have a Chinese name but this, of course, is unknown to the authorities and may safely remain.’

  He stood. ‘Time presses. If they seek you ardently, we may soon expect imperial agents in Chang An. This very afternoon I will make enquiries, but meanwhile you shall be my welcome guests.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The next day a little procession weaved through the busy crowds. At its head a footman wearing an emblazoned tabard sounded a gong every five paces to clear the way. Several attendants followed and then Kuo and the two holy men, more footmen in the rear.

  They had received the best of news: a caravan would leave shortly and with a letter from the abbot secured by a suitable donation, Kuo’s friend the general would be agreeable, for a trifling fee, to expedite their passes.

  And now they were heading for the market to fit the men out for their great journey, Tai Yi and Ying Mei in a separate party with Kuo’s wife.

  A maze of streets opened up; the wards were divided into lanes, each specialising in different goods. They passed singing crickets in cages, apothecaries, ironsmiths and fortune-tellers.

  Kuo led them to a bazaar completely devoted to the camel caravan.

  There was a welter of offerings: bridles for camel and horse, saddles of every level of comfort and expense and, of course, clothing. With the pungent aroma of new leather and fresh-oiled felt on the air they made their selections under the canny eye of their benefactor.

  First was good stout ox-hide boots with extra thick soles. Deserts were not all sand and wind-scoured gravel would be trying on the feet.

  Next came full-length padded cloaks with all-enfolding lace-up hats recommended for the fierce cold.

  Then – peculiar sandshoes made of felt scales like a fish, lined with colourful cloth and reinforced with leather. They had a strong drawstring that bound them tight to the ankle, vital for long stretches in the dunes.

  Other articles for the journey were added: personal water gourds, a clothing repair kit, wide bamboo hats against a merciless sun, gloves.

  Kuo advised they delay buying hot-weather clothes, linen smocks and trousers, until they got to the edge of the infernal regions.

  After a restorative snack of pork dumplings Kuo announced that they were expected soon at the caravanserai which was finalising the dispatch details of their caravan.

  The offices of the caravan master were in a large cobbled courtyard, with stables and warehouses on the other three sides. Nicander’s heart beat faster – in just two days they would be leaving on a fearsome journey that if all went well would only come to an end in Constantinople!

  Seeing Kuo, a large dark-featured man bellowed, ‘You’re back!’

  ‘I said I would, Su hsien sheng. Shall we talk?’

  ‘Who are those?’

  ‘Two of your passenger freight, should your price be right. I have another two coming later. Now—’

  ‘Passes?’

  ‘On their way. The Lady P’eng has been summoned to her father’s side in Aksu, a final sickness – things have been rushed, you understand.’

  ‘Lady? Aksu? Sounds like trouble to me, Kuo!’

  ‘Not at all. These gentlemen, foreign holy men, have agreed to be her protectors and she does have a female companion. And she’s of gentle birth, no competition for your girls on the way.’

  ‘Humph. So I guess she’s after top treatment?’

  ‘I don’t think so. In this time of sadness she desires privacy, not display. Tell me, is this an official trip or …?’

  ‘No, private. No hordes of slaves sucking your water all the time, if that’s your meaning. Carrying silks, that’s raw bolts and made goods, porcelain, copper. There’s a crowd o’ Buddhists bearing brass images to Khotan – that’ll be fun for everybody – the usual other stuff. Two hundred and twenty camels in all. You’re not shipping on this run?’

  ‘Only my two-legged freight and a few letters. Anyway, that sounds quiet enough, gold and ivory in a caravan always makes me nervous. Shall we get to details?’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘What’s the escort?’

  ‘Fifty cavalry, Uighurs; twenty bowmen, Kuchean and Chinese, but these are good men.’

  ‘Usual fee?’

  ‘Joint, divided among all with a stake in the caravan? Yes, the usual.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘So you’ll be finalising? You’ve left it a bit late, Kuo.’

  ‘Not so fast. I trust you, Su Li, best caravan master I know, but I’d like to set eyes on your camels if you please.’

  As they were led out from the stables for inspection Nicander blinked at the first one and looked again. ‘Wh-what do you call that?’

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’ Su asked defensively.

  ‘He’s got two humps!’

  ‘What do you expect of a camel, you idiot! He’s going to cost you, Kuo! Troublemaker, knew it as soon as I sees him.’

  ‘No, no. He’s a holy man from a far kingdom, I don’t suppose he’s ever seen a camel before.’

  Kuo and Su agreed final prices and fees in the office.

  ‘Holy men, monks, like? There’s a cut in it for them if they know healing. Not much, there’s others I can call on …’

  ‘What’s the word on the route? Any worries?’

  ‘Tibetans causing trouble east o’ Niya, knocked over a garrison at Miran. Usual bother, otherwise quiet.’

  ‘Seems well enough. You’ve been to the diviner?’

  ‘Why would I not, soon as we knew the date for sure?’ Su replied in an injured tone. ‘Almanac gives us a fair passage, should we sight the rat star before we leave.’

  ‘So we’re settled. My party will see you at departure.’

  They returned to Kuo’s home to find the ‘holy scriptures’ had arrived from the bookseller.

  Written on a curious material called ‘paper’, these were in an ingenious portable form Nicander had never seen before – the usual scroll flattened and folded on itself many times so ‘pages’ could be turned. Kuo found a gemstone specimen box of the right size to carry them and demonstrated its false bottom, used to conceal the more precious stones.

  That evening Nicander felt restless, and sensing Marius was too, suggested they take in the gardens.

  They walked in silence, then Marius said, ‘Can see m’self setting to rights a dish or three of faggots w
hen we get back. How about you, m’ friend?’

  Nicander gave a half smile. How could he put into words his sense of foreboding?

  ‘It might not be as straightforward as all that, Marius,’ he muttered. ‘Something about the whole thing that makes me … well, it’s going too well, it can’t be this easy.’

  ‘You just like it here too much, that’s your problem.’

  ‘No, I just feel—’

  ‘It’s all right for you, Greek, you picked up the lingo quick smart. Not like me, half the time I’ve no idea what you’re talking about! I want to be back where a man knows where he’s at with people, can give a straight reply, kind o’ thing. For me, I don’t care if I’m down to hucking the streets again, so long as I’m with m’ kind!’

  ‘Wanting something badly doesn’t make it any more certain you’ll get it, Marius.’

  ‘What’s your gripe, Nico? We get on a camel this end and get off some other one at the other – simple.’ He chuckled. ‘Might even meet up with the camel wrangler I spoke to in Constantinople about getting to Seres. There’s a thought – won’t he gasp to see us!’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Nicander said drily. ‘But look at it my way – count how many things can go wrong, then add to those how many things have to go right for us to make it through. Marius, the odds are piled high against us before we even start!

  ‘Take just one thing. Only this – that no one, and I mean not a single soul – is known to have got through to the other side! They admit it! And I believe them for one simple reason. How many Chinese have you seen in the streets of Constantinople? None. A whole lot of Huns, Syrians, Moors and even weirder races, yes, but none from here. What does that tell you?’

  ‘So we’ll be the first! Does that frighten you?’

  ‘I don’t think you’re getting my drift. We’re heading out into this demon hell of a place and no one knows what’s there at the end. Who’s to say it’s the right way home? It might be in quite a different direction and there we are, tramping on, headed for a boiling sea or frozen place somewhere.’

  He stopped walking. Obstinately Marius continued on, then turned back. ‘Look, Nico, I know nothing’s sure. Is that why we shouldn’t even try? Hey?’

 

‹ Prev