The Silk Tree

by Julian Stockwin

  Ying Mei laughed in delighted surprise. ‘You know of the Tao? How wonderful! But … how did you … when you can’t read the works of the masters?’

  ‘I had a wise teacher.’ He eased into a smile. ‘It’s an attractive offer. Yes, I agree – a fair exchange.’

  As usual they moved out at daybreak, taking nearly half an hour to unwind into the long camel train. It was hot, the fierce heat radiating up from the sandy ground, but they were used to it now, wearing wide hats and loose robes and keeping with the relaxed gait of the camels.

  Ying Mei eased her pony to the side and dismounted. She pressed it on Tai Yi then waited for the men to come up with her.

  ‘Ah Yung – you made me a promise last night.’

  ‘To teach you our tongue?’

  ‘Yes, and I mean to keep you to it!’

  ‘Very well – tonight will be lesson one, and—’

  ‘Why not now? It’s so boring doing nothing. Let’s start right away!’

  ‘But I haven’t thought of the lesson yet.’

  ‘Nonsense. Come on, we’ll go and keep Tai Yi company and begin.’

  She looked up at Marius riding Meng Hsiao. ‘You’ll be able to look after the camels, won’t you, Ah Wu?’

  Tai Yi twisted around in her saddle to see what was going on.

  ‘We’re going to learn about the Western Lands, and Ah Yung is going to teach us.’

  Nicander frowned. It really was unfair. The woman was expecting, on the spot, a grammar lesson in Greek, the most precise and logical linguistic structure in the known world. Where was the wax tablet and stylus, the board and chalk – even the word lists of meanings? Ying Mei herself wasn’t helping the situation. Since emerging from her Ice Queen personality he had discovered that she was bright and had a sense of humour that rose above the fearsome conditions. Not only that but he was uncomfortably aware that she was no ordinary attractive woman – she had elements of beauty that were classic in their lines and symmetry of the kind that he’d only seen before on ancient statuary.

  She paced expectantly next to him, flashing an encouraging smile.

  ‘We’re ready, Ah Yung!’

  ‘Well, the first thing you must know is that the structure of Greek – the tongue of Hellenica that is,’ remembering Dao Pa’s term, ‘will be that it is—’

  ‘No, no, the most important things first. When I arrive, will I be dressed correctly? I mean, what do the ladies wear?’

  ‘Can we not leave this for later? There is so much to learn.’

  ‘If you insist. But first you must tell us about your tribe and village. How big is it? Does your family own many water buffalo? In your house are there many slaves?’

  Tai Yi leant down from the horse. ‘She means she wants to know about the kingdoms and their history. When we get there, what will we see?’

  ‘Yes, yes. But it’s not so easy. Let me see … Well, we can start with the first civilisation, which began nearly one and a half thousand years ago in the land we call Greece …’

  He was no professional teacher but he thought he’d made quite a good fist of explaining origins, the rise of the Greeks and their superior culture, and then the Romans overwhelming them yet taking their philosophy and thought as their own.

  There were no Chinese names, of course, for the people and cities and he made them up. When she knew more Greek he’d correct her understanding.

  ‘If the Roman dynasty rules Greece, why do we not learn their tongue – this Latin instead of Greek?’

  He would have to be careful with Ying Mei, she was very quick.

  ‘Ah. Well, in the top ruling dynasty in Constantinople there is little Latin left, everyone speaks Greek as being the superior form. But don’t mention this to Marius, he’s a Roman himself.’

  ‘Is he?’

  Nicander felt a stab of irritation at her look of wide-eyed wonder. ‘Yes, but many say they are much debased now.’

  ‘Then why is he your friend?’

  ‘Because … because we set out on our mission together, that’s all.’

  ‘How wonderful! Tell me, why …’

  Nicander didn’t want the conversation to go this way and have to lie to her.

  He assumed a stiff expression. ‘You must know that there is one central sea. It is called the Mediterranean and is bordered by the burning regions to the south and the frozen regions to the north, and …’

  The time passed quickly but he had to beg fatigue when the searing heat made it difficult to think.

  That evening at the meal Ying Mei shyly came over to sit by him. ‘I did enjoy our lesson, Ah Yung. I can see now how much there is to learn.’

  ‘It was my pleasure.’ To his surprise he found he meant it.

  ‘And I haven’t forgotten our bargain. I’ve talked with Tai Yi and we’ve found an arrangement that will serve as your classroom.’

  ‘You’re really going to teach me to write?’ He was keen to have the means to read the words of the masters but he’d assumed the offer was a token one to save face. How could it be possible in these conditions?

  ‘Yes. After we’ve eaten we start your first lesson.’

  ‘My dear!’ Zarina called across. ‘You look so well tonight! While we’re all so weary, it’s not fair you know.’

  ‘It must be the mountain air coming down, I find it so refreshing.’

  ‘Forgive me for bringing it up, but I can’t help thinking that it won’t be so long before we reach Aksu and … well, your father might be … and you so … happy?’

  Without a moment’s hesitation Ying Mei smiled sadly. ‘That is true – but just between you and me I’ve never really known him, being away all the time like he is, and when he comes home he’s a beastly tyrant. I go to him only out of filial duty, you see.’

  ‘I understand, my dear. You are a good and obedient daughter.’

  Nicander’s classroom turned out to be the ladies’ tent. It was just large enough for them to sit cross-legged on a cushion opposite each other while Tai Yi occupied herself to one side. The master stroke was using her folding horse-mounting stool as a desk, complete with a little oil lamp.

  ‘This is really very thoughtful of you, Ying Mei,’ he said sincerely. ‘I’ll try to be a good disciple.’

  ‘I’m sure you will.’

  ‘But what will we use for the writing?’

  ‘Ah. My teacher today told me there is much to learn first. I think these are very wise words.’

  He grinned. ‘He must be a fine teacher. So what must we do?’

  She assumed a grave expression. ‘The first is to acquire a proper respect for the power of the characters, the play between words and meaning. Please listen carefully to this quatrain.’

  Closing her eyes she recited:

  ‘Than colours of the peony

  my raiment is more fair.

  The breeze across the palace lake

  takes fragrance from my hair’.

  ‘You see? So sublime – and only four characters in each line. And this one …’

  For Nicander, who only knew the tongue from workaday utility and Dao Pa’s stern metaphysics, the beauty leapt out at him. She recited three more and then got out her portable writing set, an inkstone and a selection of brushes on their stand.

  Taking just one character from each line she showed how a delicate shading of understanding was built up by a coalescing of the individual meanings of its elements. Then she used the same character several times in company with others. In each case the totality of what was derived had a subtle difference.

  Where each Greek word was fixed and immutable in meaning, in Chinese it was a much more supple process. If in Greek there was no exact word for an intended meaning then it was too bad, the conceit could not be put across. In this language, however, something could be built up in order to match the precise requirement of what was intended; there was the possibility of an infinite variation.

  It was a revelation.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT


  In the predawn chill the two holy men waited by Meng Hsiang, already harnessed and loaded.

  ‘So how’s it going for you?’ Marius said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You can’t fool this old soldier!’ he sniggered. ‘Although how you’re going to get the old biddy out of the way …’

  ‘You bastard, Marius. That’s not how it is at all!’

  ‘Oh? So you’re hanging about just in case she needs a fan or something.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘I’ve seen how she looks at you! She’s out to make a monkey of you, Nico, take it from me – I know women, and this one’s bad news.’

  ‘You’re jealous! That’s what it is, you’re jealous!’

  ‘Look at her – she’s a fucking high-born and there’s no way she’s for you. She’s just playing around with who’s available!’

  Nicander went rigid. ‘She’s an honourable, intelligent lady. She knows literature and the arts and—’

  ‘Hah! All right – tell me what you’re talking about all this time.’

  ‘Why, the history and geography of Greece and Rome, the—’

  ‘I’ll bet you everything I have … that she tries every time to get personal – embarrassing, like. That’s what women do when they want to throw you off guard, get things started down the track they want. Am I right?’

  Breathing hard, Nicander kept himself in check. ‘I don’t think I want to continue this conversation. She’s asked me for help and I’m giving it to her, and that’s an end to it.’

  Marius threw off a harsh laugh and busied himself with Meng Hsiao.

  Su came slowly down the line with his crew on his inspection, grunting a few words to them in the pale light of the morning before passing on.

  ‘Good morning, sirs!’ Ying Mei said gaily as she approached. ‘You look a little out of sorts, Ah Wu. You are well, I hope?’

  ‘My teacher!’ she said to Nicander and gave a decorous courtly bow.

  He blushed but hid it by returning the courtesy.

  She touched his hand. ‘I am going to have my next lesson today, aren’t I?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Nicander said uncomfortably, feeling Marius’s gaze on him. ‘Lesson two.’

  ‘Then I’d better be ready. What will we—’

  Before she could finish someone asked brusquely, ‘Are you the holy man Ni?’

  He hadn’t noticed the group of monks coming up, the ones who had joined at Turfan and who had until now kept to themselves.

  ‘I am.’

  The man speaking was in traditional Buddhist garb but around his neck were many strings of beads and ornate hangings. His features were hard and ruthless.

  He made an elaborate gesture of greeting. ‘I am Taw Vandak, lama of the oasis kingdoms. These are the venerable monks who accompany me on my journeys.’

  Nicander gave a cautious bow. ‘This is Ma Lai Ssu, my brother in faith.’

  Marius gave an ill-tempered grunt but was nevertheless awarded a careful greeting.

  The lama paused to regard them, his eyes cold and appraising. ‘My brothers and I are confused. Caravan master Su tells us you are holy men from a far land. Pray do tell us something of your origins and … beliefs.’

  Nicander realised this was no idle meeting but what was its purpose?

  ‘Thank you for your interest, Taw lao na. We are from a distant kingdom sent on a quest after truth. Our beliefs are very complex to explain.’

  ‘I see. We are confused because we expected you to join with us in our prayers to Avalokitesvara for the safety of this argosy and all within it.’

  ‘Ah. This is because we don’t include him in our pantheon.’

  ‘This is very strange as she is the paramount bodhisattva to the traveller. Which kingdom did you say you came from?’

  ‘Byzantium.’ He couldn’t think of Chinese words to express it and fell back on the Latin.

  ‘Bai Zan – I cannot think to have heard of this. Another thing that puzzles us is that it has been two days and we have yet to see you at any form of devotion. In your beliefs, then, is there no room for prayer to the higher?’

  Where was this leading? Nicander thought quickly. ‘Oh, I can see what confuses you. Well, in our sacrament we think it sacrilegious to approach the higher except within the bounds of a consecrated place, a church. And as we have seen, there are no churches of our faith to be found here.’

  Taw came back in a harder tone, ‘And still another thing. You were seen at profane entertainments of a wicked nature, not to be contemplated by any who does truly profess holiness and purity.’

  Nicander could feel the hostility radiating from the man’s followers.

  ‘There is nothing in our way that—’

  ‘No? Then answer me this – you were seen entering the tent of this woman under cover of night. What does this mean, Ni?’

  ‘We were discussing the beauty of literature and she’s going to teach me writing.’

  Taw spat on the ground and with a final venomous glare turned and stormed off.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Ying Mei said. ‘You have to understand that in China monks are exempt of taxes and therefore many claim to be holy men to take advantage of this. This makes it a harder burden for the taxpayers, who then end up hating all monks. And as holy men only exist by begging alms there is so much less for everyone.’

  There was a jingling of camel bells ahead: the caravan was getting under way.

  ‘There’s trouble brewing with those monks,’ Nicander said in a low voice to Marius, ‘I feel it in my bones.’

  The early morning light showed the continuing Tien Shan range on their right at its best, vaunting snow-tipped mountains cleft with dark shadows of night not yet banished; purple, blue and where touched by dawn, a delicate rose. By contrast on their left was the deadly Taklamakan, a grey-brown sea of dunes and desolation that could swallow whole armies with ease.

  Nicander caught up with Ying Mei for the promised lesson.

  ‘This is so kind of you,’ she said with a warmth that left him glowing. ‘I do so look forward to our lessons. I’m hoping that today you’ll give me some real Greek characters to learn!’

  ‘Characters? Well, it’s not quite like that …’

  She was alert and intelligent but there was so much that was different in concept between the languages. The appearance of words in Greek were never the same from one sentence to another as Chinese characters always were – they altered with whether things had happened in the past or present, were single or many, even the sex of the thing talked about. Instead of a holistic meaning from the character cluster as a whole, Greek had to be analysed word by word and presented in a logical structure as a sentence.

  It was a long and difficult exercise but as the days rolled on she proved herself equal to it.

  For his part, Nicander began instruction in writing. He learnt that any character could be made with just eight strokes of the brush and that all these could be exercised in one: the character for ‘eternity’. Then there was the comforting discovery that every character could be found in the dictionary by recognising its pu shou or central essence, and these were limited to just a few hundred to learn.

  But after that came the realisation that writing was more than a mechanical means for rendering meaning as it was in Greek. Instead the Chinese revered it as a form of art – calligraphy, and a gentleman could be judged by his mastery and skill of it. Strength, personality, individuality – all could be deduced from the execution of a single stroke.

  The writing brush had to be held just so, perfectly vertical and all the concentration and power of thought directed down into one bold action, one culmination of intent to produce a thing of beauty – or childish squiggle.

  Nicander was entranced: this was much more than elementary literacy – it was a way of life that seamlessly intersected with what Dao Pa had been saying about the Tao and he felt his mind yearning for more.

  The days passed whi
le the caravan slowly made its way westward. Through the Iron Gate Pass to Korla, then along the flank of the mountains to Kucha, the sand-girt walled oasis standing like a rampart against the encroaching sea of sand.

  Guarded by a pair of stone Buddhas more than a hundred feet high it was a prime stopping place for the caravans, as well as a trading post for the pack animals coming through the passes from the Turkic peoples beyond.

  The bazaars were a place of magic and allure. Nicander and Ying Mei explored them together and she found him the latest Yu p’ien dictionary. Later, they visited the gardens of the old city and tasted peaches and almonds. The caravan did not stop for long; soon it was stretching out over the desert and the rhythms of the trail took over once more.

  Under the watchful eye of Tai Yi they continued their lessons as they walked on, Nicander spelling a Greek word in the sand with his staff and Ying Mei having to speak it in a sentence before it disappeared behind them. In turn she would form a character and he would have to do the same. It lent itself to all kinds of frivolity and they laughed together in delight.

  At night she guided him while he painfully found his way about the vocabulary and applauded loudly when he managed his first lines of Hsün Tzu.

  It was a breakthrough: soon he would know the masters at first hand.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  After the camel train had been secured for the evening Su Li came up to Nicander. Behind him, Taw Vandak and the other monks clearly meant business.

  ‘I’m sorry to disturb, but these gentlemen have made an accusation against you as I’m bound to investigate.’

  ‘Which is?’ Nicander asked stiffly.

  ‘They say that you’re not holy men and not entitled to consideration as such.’

  ‘A scandalous accusation!’

  ‘If this is right, at the very least the authorities in oasis kingdoms will demand I pay full coin for you, as well as stand surety.’

  ‘This is a nonsense! We come from a country far from here they’ve never visited – how can they know what our holy men look like?’