The Silk Tree

by Julian Stockwin

  And they would be resting here for a whole three days!

  That night as Nicander lay staring up at the smoke-grimed roof, he forgave them everything, even the red-eyed cockroaches as long as his finger, and jumping spiders with bodies as big as pigeon’s eggs. He just wished he couldn’t hear the crunching of their jaws as they took their prey.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  ‘It’s the toughest of all, no doubt about it,’ Korkut told Nicander and Marius. ‘When we pass through the Shuan Ch’eng range we’ll be in the Black Gobi, and that’s flat all the way, completely open to the worst from the north.’

  ‘It’s late in the season, too, dear,’ Zarina said. ‘But once we’re through to Turfan it’s much easier.’

  Korkut grimaced. ‘Hm. Su heard a rumour that the Mongols are out. That I don’t like!’

  ‘He said that we’re going to move as fast as we can,’ his wife added.

  ‘Meaning it’s up early and flogging all day until the last of the light. I’m already feeling it. Perhaps I’m getting too old for this kind of thing.’

  The road petered out and once again they were moving over the trackless plain, towards a distant blue-grey rumpled line. In the clear desert air distance was deceptive and it was not for another stage that they had reached the foothills of the range. The peaks were abrupt and craggy with long scree slopes. Su led the camel train through a gloomy defile, its walls sheer and forbidding.

  On the other side were uplands populated with jagged boulders, and then another stone-strewn range with a gorge appeared.

  As they passed through the ravine, they were met with a wind that set everyone’s clothing a-flutter. Down on the level ground it eased off. The landscape was now utterly featureless. Not a hill, a dune or even a distant range, simply an iron-flat stony plain reaching out into the limitless distance.

  They tramped on.

  The wind picked up with force. It had a coolness in it that was strangely disturbing in the still fierce heat of the sun out of the cloudless sky. With nothing to deflect it, it came in flat and hard, making the camels lurch and stumble. It stung exposed skin with sand and rock particles, whipping mercilessly. Nicander wound cloth around his face and kept his hands inside his robe. He tried to lean into the wind but within a short time it was impossible to move.

  The camels knelt down and Nicander and Marius took shelter in the lee of the big bodies, so close they could smell their rank but comforting goat-like smell. Ying Mei and Tai Yi could not be seen through the dust.

  The sandstorm passed as quickly as it had arisen. Spluttering and protesting, the camels got to their feet with their riders and the caravan got under way again.

  Nicander was taken aback at the sight that met his reddened eyes. On the next camel in front the familiar structure of the howdah was missing, ripped away by the force of the wind. Between the humps was a hunched figure, ragged strips of clothing streaming out in the last of the wind. Another bedraggled figure trudged gamely along beside.

  He’d never given much thought to the howdah before; but he now realised it must have been a never-ending nightmare in that lurching, swaying, broiling prison. Yet Ying Mei had always come to the evening fire looking fresh and cool. What torments this noble lady must be enduring!

  They set up for the night, the usual desert evening chill an icy breath that came out of nowhere, sending everyone scrabbling for their sheepskins and impatient for a hot supper.

  The crew came around with iron pegs for the tents. All eight guys were rigged on each side and fully tensioned.

  Soon after midnight the wind got up again, waking Nicander. The sides of the tent began flapping and banging in a terrifying bluster. The wind then turned to a devilish shrieking and the agitated flailing became a vicious thrashing.

  With it was a cold that despite his layered clothing pierced his innermost being, leaving only a tiny point of warmth remaining. For hours he lay awake, frightened and shuddering with the cold.

  Before first light, the order was given to form up ready as soon as a quick meal was taken. While the tents were struck by the crew, just moving shapes in the gloom, no one spoke for the misery of it all, the need for endurance. Surely this howling wilderness could not last for ever …

  The first needle-sharp rays of sunlight appeared and they were off once more. The sun rose higher and the icy cold turned to baking heat. A general halt was called to change clothing and then it was onward, always onward, through the unvarying dreary flatness.

  The sun dipped in the west and another dramatic desert sunset began building. Marius peered into the distance and growled, ‘Something over there!’

  With a lurch of unease Nicander spotted a series of black objects on the skyline.

  Shouts of alarm came from up and down the camel train as the numbers grew.

  An urgent order to halt went out.

  Soon half the horizon was filled. There was now no doubt – these were a murderous horde of Hsien Pei Mongols on the move.

  ‘Why have we stopped?’ Nicander blurted. ‘We’ve got to get away!’

  ‘Su’s right. While we’re stationary there’s no dust being kicked up. Maybe we’ve got a chance of not being noticed,’ Marius said, steadily watching.

  ‘Our escort …?’

  ‘Haven’t a chance. That’s cavalry, over firm ground, no cover. We’ll be cut to pieces without mercy.’

  ‘So we’re … doomed?’

  ‘Depends. If we offer to surrender – and if they take it, well, we may get away with slavery o’ some kind, but if they’re in a murdering mood, I suppose …’

  Nicander watched the slowly moving host in a chill of horror. They were angling away as if to cut them off – but why weren’t they thundering in at speed?

  Up and down the line people watched transfixed like statues: there was nothing they could do to save themselves against the brutal flood.

  The glorious sunset was shining full on the horde. It picked up an occasional flash of steel, the different horse colours, one or two banners – all pitilessly illuminated in grim detail. But still they made no move to ride in for the kill.

  The tension was unbearable. Through Nicander’s mind stampeded images of the Ostrogoths’ cruel and barbarous attacks. Surely he had not been spared their callous butchery to face his end here in this hell on earth?

  Marius stiffened, then turned to him with a twisted smile. ‘So o’ course, we just wait it out. They’ll be off soon and we can get back on the trail,’ he added off-handedly.

  ‘What are you saying?’ Nicander said incredulously.

  ‘Well, any fool can tell we’re right in the eye of the sunset. So they can’t see us, can they?’ He gestured out behind them to where the final minutes of the sun’s glory blazed out.

  Su waited a full hour after the Mongols had passed out of sight ahead before giving the order to set up for the night. But there would be no hot food or drink, for no fire dared be lit that might draw attention. As the icy chill stole in everyone crept into their tents in dread of the fearful horde somewhere out there in the night.

  The next morning some wondered whether it was wise to continue in the same direction as the Mongol horde, but Su pointed out that the slow-moving caravan would never catch up with their steppe ponies.

  The wind started up again, a hard blast that blustered and stung. Nicander felt a grudging admiration for the little figure on the camel ahead, hunched and enduring as the wind plucked and battered. This was suffering indeed and should never be expected of a woman, let alone a gentle-born one. There was nothing now he and Marius were taking that she was not sharing, and she had never once complained.

  After two more days there was a subtle change in the desolate landscape: a golden-yellow sand was appearing.

  It pleased Korkut. ‘Praise the gods! This is Taklamakan sand, but from the Tien Shan mountains. We’re nearly through to Yi Wu and from then on it’s much easier.’

  Nicander remembered being told that where the Kunlun
mountains flanked the southern side, the Tien Shan stayed with the north – it meant that they were well on their way to having crossed from one side of the Great Desert to the other, and there it would be the famed oasis kingdoms to welcome them.

  The sprawling golden-yellow dunes increased and then they were back on the softness of sand.

  It was not long, however, before Nicander sensed there was something affecting Meng Hsiang. Not in the same way as when he had smelt water but there was an uneasiness, a restlessness. His big head swung this way and that, and he gave out occasional drawn-out rumbles.

  ‘I think old Meng Hsiang is having a fit,’ he called across to Marius.

  ‘Can’t be the Mongols, he didn’t worry about ’em last time. Or the water – didn’t they give him a swill before we started out?’

  Their stout-hearted beast had never let them down. ‘He’s on to something, and I don’t know what it is. I don’t like this, Marius!’

  Whatever it was, the whole camel train was getting infected. Up and down the line there were tossing heads, ill-tempered snarling, and then the caravan came lurching to a stop.

  Nicander shook his head. ‘What’s got into them?’ There was nothing ahead that looked like a threat.

  Then the camels jostled together, knelt down and lowered their heads, thrusting their noses into the sand and sending up snuffling fountains.

  Alarmed shouts rang out. Korkut began hastily winding a cloth around his wife’s face and others were doing likewise in a frenzy.

  Seemingly out of nowhere, a long wall of ochre dust and cloud towering up to the sky, dark and whirling, was advancing over the ground towards them, swallowing up everything in its path.

  ‘Sandstorm. Get something over your eyes and mouth – quickly, Nico!’ Marius cried. There was no time to look to the others.

  They threw themselves down against the camel. A fitful wind started, then rapidly grew stronger, spitefully whipping up sand. Then in a sudden buffet the storm struck. In an instant they were plunged into a chaos of darkness and a hot whirling fury that howled and battered at them.

  Nicander choked and gasped as dust and sand was driven into his hair and clothing and every crease and orifice. He felt a drag on his legs and realised he was being slowly buried in sand. He kicked out and tried to rise but his senses were disoriented by the whirling chaos and he fell to his hands and knees, crowded and bullied by the howling storm.

  It was difficult to think: the overriding imperative was to find the camel again – if he was driven away it would be into the fearful desert where he would be lost for ever. He crawled one way. Nothing. Then he tried another direction and to his intense relief found he was clutching Meng Hsiang’s front leg. He hauled himself along and buried his face in the thick fur of the neck, revelling in the pungent smell.

  He clung there while the whistle and roar of the tempest went on and on but then quite as suddenly as it had come, it weakened and died. Nicander snatched a glance around him. The air was still full of dust-smoke but as it cleared the still forms of the camels could be seen, half-buried in sand piled up on one side. Here and there things began to move, ghostly shapes throwing off powdered sand.

  Marius heaved himself up, spitting and swearing while Meng Hsiang spluttered and lifted his head, shaking it vigorously and snorting loudly.

  Nicander stood up too and heard a harsh, barking cry. It was Tai Yi, in a frenzy by their camel. In a stab of foreboding he stumbled over.

  ‘She’s there, in there!’ Tai Yi sobbed, scrabbling frantically. Ying Mei had gone the wrong side of the camel and been buried somewhere under the slope of sand.

  Nicander pushed Tai Yi aside. He bent down and with his legs astride, paddled the sand clear in a continuous stream until he found a limb and knew where her head must lie. He shifted along and did it again. There was movement: he scooped quickly each side. Ying Mei’s arching body then heaved clear, her head hanging while she choked and retched.

  She twisted around. Her wild, dust-smeared face stared up at Nicander then crumpled in emotion. Tears slashed streaks through the dust. Impulsively Nicander held her – she clung to him, whimpering while he smoothed her gritted hair and tried to find something to say.

  Then he felt a determined grip on his shoulders, pulling him away. Ying Mei held on desperately, clutching at him as though to life itself, while the sobs racked her slight body.

  ‘My Lady! My Lady – please!’ Tai Yi admonished. ‘Do remember who you are!’

  Ying Mei fell free and dropped to the ground.

  Tai Yi then said firmly, ‘That’ll do, Ni sheng. We’ll call you if you’re needed.’

  ‘No,’ Ying Mei said in a weak voice.

  ‘My Lady?’

  She heaved herself to a sitting position, her face smeared, her clothing torn and ragged, a pitiable innocent taken by the sandstorm now unrecognisable as the Lady Kuo of Yeh Ch’eng.

  Taking a shuddering breath she cried, ‘I can’t go on like this any more, Ah Lai, I just can’t.’

  ‘My Lady – it won’t be like this for ever. Su sheng said that—’

  ‘No, it’s not that at all. Dear Ah Lai! Can’t you see? I can’t face being a lady any more. I can’t!’

  ‘My child, you shouldn’t take on so. It’ll be better …’

  Ying Mei tried to smooth her tangled hair then replied, ‘Ah Lai, I know. But you see, if we had a full court, attendants and the rest I could do my duty by my father, but out here in this frightful desert …’

  ‘Nonsense! You are born and bred a Kuo of illustrious ancestry. This can never be—’

  ‘No, I’m decided.’

  ‘My Lady?’

  ‘That I want to be among friends! Those who are as frayed and tattered as I am, that I don’t need to put on my airs.’

  ‘Child, this is—’

  ‘To talk with them, bear these hardships together, enjoy things – surely you must understand, Ah Lai?’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘I wish to be just Ying Mei to everyone from now on.’

  Tai Yi froze in horror.

  She gave a shy smile at Nicander. ‘And I shall call you, let me see, Ah Yung – the brave one. Who I do now thank for my deliverance.’

  Then she turned to Marius. ‘And this is Ah Wu, the fierce one.’

  ‘My Lady, this is—’

  ‘Ah Lai!’ she warned, then relented. ‘Only for now, I promise. When we’re in … different circumstances I vow, I’ll behave like a high-born again.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  The Yi Wu oasis appeared from nothing, a miraculous conjuring of life out of the stifling aridity of the desert. There was a clear rivulet, the sweet smell of fruits and blossoms on the air, and a little caravanserai that was eager for custom.

  Their mud and straw cells were clean, the melons cool, and delicious spicy skewers of vegetable and lamb were promised for later.

  ‘Wonder if My Lady has found her airs again, now she’s back with people,’ Marius said, as Nicander went to work with borrowed scissors on his thick growth of hair.

  Tai Yi had contrived to keep her mistress apart from them, pleading the effects of the sandstorm on her health.

  ‘The way she is, who knows what she’ll do next,’ he replied a little too off-handedly.

  He splashed more water on the black locks, hoping this would make the blunt scissors cut better.

  Marius gave him a curious look.

  ‘As long as she keeps away and doesn’t cause me trouble, I’ll be polite enough.’

  A cracked bell was the summons to eat and they wasted no time in getting to the small dining chamber and finding a place next to Korkut and his wife. Ying Mei was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Are you feeling better, Korkut tai tai?’ Nicander asked Zarina. She was looking quite different to the figure that had emerged from the desert storm, red-eyed and spitting sand.

  ‘Why yes, Ni lao na. And the Lady P’eng? I heard she was near to being buried.’

  ‘Her
companion tells me she is recovering.’

  ‘Went down the wrong side of the camel,’ Korkut sniffed. ‘I would have thought it your job to tell her about these things, Ni sheng.’

  ‘We’re not her keepers!’ he replied defensively.

  ‘Never mind,’ Zarina said hastily. ‘Here she is!’

  Ying Mei was transformed. Her complexion had a fresh, natural glow and she had acquired from somewhere a flowing pale-green embroidered dress and a short jacket in blue.

  ‘Good evening, my friends!’ she called gaily. Next to her Tai Yi wore her traditional robes and a disapproving glare.

  Without waiting for an invitation Ying Mei sat down with the little group. ‘I’ve heard it will be hotter still before we get to Turfan.’

  ‘My Lady, if you—’

  ‘Korkut sheng, I’m not to be known by my friends in that way. We’ve faced things together – it would please me should you call me just Ying Mei. And I will call you Zarina.’

  The merchant looked at his wife blankly.

  ‘Well, Ying Mei,’ Zarina said, daring all, ‘we’ve heard the same. It will be quite a trial for we ladies.’

  Ying Mei smiled warmly. ‘It will, but we’ll get through, I’m sure. The Emperor decrees – that is, I’ve heard that the Emperor himself sends for his mare’s nipple grapes from Turfan, and they come in camel containers packed in snow. They even manage to reach the capital without melting!’

  ‘Holy Qormusta! This is what he does with our taxes? No wonder there’s unrest!’

  ‘Please don’t swear, dear,’ Zarina murmured, then added, ‘And how about your General Wang Chih? When he goes on campaign he has a camel with a tank, just to keep his fish swimming and fresh.’

  ‘Have you ever been to Turfan?’ Nicander asked Korkut.

  ‘No, never.’

  Neither had any of the others, it seemed.

  ‘Let’s ask Su Li to come over and tell us something of it,’ Ying Mei suggested.

  The caravan master, expansive with wine, happily complied.