The Silk Tree

by Julian Stockwin

  ‘That’s why I came to talk to you. I’ve an idea to get us on the caravan. Why don’t we hire a camel or a horse just for him? When he’s better we can take turns on it.’

  ‘He won’t like it, but it’ll get us going.’

  She hesitated. ‘Ah Yung – would you walk with me? There’s something I want to say to you.’

  Tai Yi gave her mistress a sharp look.

  ‘This is private between Ah Yung and me, Tai Yi, please understand.’

  Nicander’s heart skipped a beat. Could it be that she had similar feelings for him? Damn his monk’s disguise. Was she going to …?

  They began walking; Tai Yi fell behind at a distance.

  ‘It’s … well, we’ve come through a horrible time and it was all of us together, wasn’t it?’ Her tone was stiff, unsure.

  ‘Yes, it was,’ he answered carefully.

  ‘And if it wasn’t for Marius we wouldn’t have …’

  ‘We owe him much.’

  They walked further in an awkward silence.

  ‘Ah Yung.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘We’ve been good friends, haven’t we? I’ve learnt such a lot of Greek, about your country and … things. And you’ve come along a long way with your Chinese characters. You’ve a natural gift, do you know that?’

  ‘And it’s been a pleasure, always,’ he said softly.

  She hesitated, then said so quietly he had to strain to hear, ‘I want you to know, Ah Yung, that I will never forget you as long as I live.’

  ‘And … and I also, Ying Mei. I will remember these times until the day I die.’

  This caravan was far bigger than their last – a cavalcade of nearly a thousand camels and horses, stretching for miles. It was a rich one with not only the usual precious jade of Khotan but tons’ weight of finished silk goods, ivory and spices from India, carpets and tortoiseshell, ornaments and toys – and, it was rumoured, quantities of musk which was known to be four times the value of gold, weight for weight.

  So close to the great Kunluns there was no shortage of water run-off and horses were plentiful and easy to sustain; not just Marius but all four were able to go by horseback.

  This was an official caravan. High-ranking bureaucrats from Khotan and Tibet were going north on diplomatic business and the escort was impressive, a column of Turghiz cavalry. There was also a promised oasis caravanserai every night – no tents for this caravan. And with the need to keep the dignitaries at their accustomed level, the rations and entertainment were of the highest order.

  With such comforts, time passed congenially.

  On their left the Kunlun range kept pace, snow-capped and majestic. After some days they began to change: to loftier, more complex jagged peaks – some said that for those with the courage, fabled India lay far beyond.

  They continued following around the mountain’s flanks on the left and across the vast plain to their right, another white-tipped mountain range rose above the horizon.

  The two gradually converged – and there ahead was Kashgar.

  ‘Not as if it’s a place I’d like to spend my days in,’ Marius muttered when they arrived. It was big, sprawling and had an air of hard trading and squalor.

  As their caravan made its stately way through mean streets to the vast caravanserai, a chill squall flapped their clothing. From an unrelieved humid and grey sky, rain began falling and the streets soon ran with mud. Quite unprepared for a heavy downpour, they were quickly soaked and arrived at the caravanserai dripping.

  ‘How wonderful,’ laughed Ying Mei. ‘I feel like a child again!’

  Although small, their cells were adequate in which to refresh after their journey but Marius wanted no time wasted. ‘We get together, ten minutes!’ he ordered.

  It was more like half an hour as the ladies begged time to make themselves presentable.

  When they were all assembled Marius got down to business. ‘This caravan moves out in two days – and we’re not going to be on it. Instead we’re going over the mountains!’

  ‘We know all this, Marius,’ Nicander said gruffly. ‘What we don’t know is where? I mean, it’s all very well saying we’re going across the mountains, but in what direction? We choose the wrong one and we’ll end up in India or some place the world hasn’t heard of.’

  ‘Simple! Like you said, we follow the silk. It’s eventually going to end up in Constantinople.’

  ‘Not so easy,’ Nicander came back heavily. ‘From here they’ve got camel trains going everywhere under the sun.’

  ‘We ask, bugger it!’

  ‘Ask what? “Are you going to Constantinople, sir?” Nobody here’s even heard of it!’

  ‘For fuck’s sake! We ask to go somewhere on the way, o’ course!’

  ‘Do you know any town on the way? You can’t, because the Sogdian’s keep very quiet about it. They don’t want any outsider connecting east and west and turning into a business rival, so they keep it all a great secret. No one else knows because they pass the silk between themselves. We’re stuck, Marius, admit it!’

  ‘Please try, gentlemen,’ Ying Mei pleaded. ‘I’ve heard camels can’t walk in snow. What do they have to carry the loads? If we can find a caravan without camels perhaps we can see if—’

  ‘No idea. You, Marius?’

  He scratched his head. ‘Never really thought about it. Hannibal did well with his elephants but I’ve not seen many around here …’

  Ying Mei looked blank at the foreign words.

  ‘I’ll explain later,’ Nicander said hastily. ‘Right now time’s short. Su’s caravan could be along at any time, and this one will be on its way soon.’

  Marius lifted his chin and growled, ‘I’ve made a decision.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ Nicander said archly.

  ‘While the ladies and I go to the caravan master and tell him we’re stepping off and need to settle up, you, Nico, will go around the caravanserai and, any way you like, find out about mountain caravans and stuff. Right?’

  Nicander smiled wryly – all the blame would be his if he couldn’t find a way out.

  He returned late with mixed news. ‘I made out I had a cargo needing to be shifted west and they all said the same thing – that it would be going through the Terek Davan Pass. Wouldn’t say where to, but at least we’ve got a direction.’

  ‘That’s wonderful, Ah Yung. But you also said bad news?’

  ‘We’re too late. The last freight has gone through and now the pass is closed by snow. Nothing now until the following travelling season, next year.’

  ‘Next year?’

  ‘About seven months to wait.’ He paused. ‘But I did hear from one of the cameleers that if they’ve got need to get hold of more carrying capacity, they hire a small crew on a temporary basis to follow on independently. This lot are Kyrgyz and while unreliable, know the mountains well. Could be they’re running for a little while longer …?’

  Marius beamed. ‘We find ’em! Ask what they’ll take to get us through!’

  ‘Ah. Now there’s a problem.’

  ‘Bugger you, Nico. Always coming up with something as will queer things! What is it now?’

  ‘Our friends the Sogdians. Nobody’s saying, but it’s clear that if they’re keeping their whole system end to end a secret they’ll slit the throats of any who let through spies. And we look just that – a couple of western barbarians and their Chinese concubines.’

  ‘Ni lao na! I resent that!’ Tai Yi spluttered. ‘In front of the Lady Kuo, as well!’

  ‘Yes, yes. But look at this from our caravan master’s point of view. Is he going to risk taking on spies and having the Sogdians down on his neck? I don’t think so. We have to come up with a good story.’

  Ying Mei gave a little smile. ‘What if I’m a Chinese princess who’s been taken with a lover. I flee from the palace but my father is so angry he vows to slay me. I fly, but his vengeance follows me everywhere I go. In the end, accompanied only by my faithful attendant and two
foreign slaves I find I have to seek exile in the only place he cannot reach – beyond the mountains.’

  ‘A disgraceful tale!’ remonstrated Tai Yi.

  Nicander beamed. ‘That’s just the story we want! How can such as we be business spies? And it shows we have to move fast and secretly – well done, Ying Mei!’

  Early the following morning Marius and Nicander hired two horses and headed towards the foot of the mountains.

  They had a name and a place and quickly found the outlying compound. A modest collection of snug timber buildings, it had a bare pasture at the back with many horses and a few donkeys. Was this an operation that could cross those titanic snowy peaks and take them to the Western Lands?

  They were met outside the largest building by a young man in red and black with ornate boots and tassels. He was not of any of the races of people Nicander had come across and his fierce, dark-tanned features had no trace of the oriental. He carried a whip which he passed from hand to hand as he snapped a question at them in a strange tongue.

  Ignoring it, Nicander asked in Chinese, ‘We come to offer business. Who shall we speak with?’

  ‘In here!’ came a reply.

  They entered a smoky room and sitting at a table was the most ancient old man he had ever seen. He barked something at them.

  Taken aback by his vigour Nicander repeated what he had said.

  ‘Who are you to come here asking stupid questions?’ The man replied in near-faultless Chinese.

  ‘Are you still crossing the Terek Davan Pass?’

  ‘If I am?’

  His heart skipped a beat. Dare he hope?

  ‘You were recommended by Kashgar to take a late freight. I’ve got one that has to get over before the end of the season. Can you do it?’

  ‘Why aren’t you using an agent?’

  ‘Because this is a special, I want to organise this myself.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not? You’re crossing still, aren’t you?’

  ‘You’re new around here, stands out like a tree in a desert. The Sogdians have a hold on everything here, that’s why. Don’t want trouble with ’em, they spying me taking a freight away from them. See?’

  ‘I can understand that. But this isn’t cargo, it’s people. Let me explain …’

  Before the man had chance to interrupt he launched into their story, telling of harrowing times fleeing unjust retribution, the constant fear, the trust they were putting in himself at that very moment.

  ‘… so all she asks is to be taken beyond the mountains until his wrath is spent. Surely you have enough pity in your heart? Your Sogdians wouldn’t care if you took just four across – they’re only being taken there into exile, it’s not as if you’re robbing them of freight.’

  The man stroked his straggling beard then shook his head. ‘I’ve never taken travellers. It’s too hard on them who aren’t used to it. And a princess! No, this is not for me.’

  Nicander, however, saw an opening for a commercial negotiation. Names were exchanged and within the hour a deal was done.

  He, Yulduz, would take them for a fee and on conditions they dress as Kyrgyz and supply their own gear, which he specified. It would be a freight run, the usual when not hired by the Sogdians, which comprised goods needed by the mountain folk on the way up and taking theirs to sell down the other side. Therefore there’d be no fancy treatment as they’d enjoyed in a proper camel train.

  ‘Osh! Did you hear that, Ah Lai? We’re going to Osh!’

  ‘Now, don’t get too excited, Ying Mei,’ Nicander cautioned. ‘Yulduz told me it’s going to be the worst journey we’ll ever take and he can’t do much about it. And there’s not long to get the gear he said we’ll need.’

  ‘Why can’t I be excited? We’re saved!’

  ‘How do you know? Where’s this Osh anyway? – I’ve never heard of it,’ Marius rumbled.

  But there was no suppressing the general optimism.

  They quickly arranged to purchase new kit – mainly warm clothing; leather boots, a double-thickness padded coat and a peculiar felt pyramid that wrapped around the body. With a pair of fur-lined leather gloves and their existing sheepskins, they were ready.

  Yulduz met them with a gap-toothed grin. ‘Which one’s the princess?’

  Ying Mei froze him with a glance.

  The smile disappeared and he gave a clumsy bow. ‘Is Your Highness ready to depart, M’ Lady?’

  Their mounts were led out to barely stifled gasps of dismay. They looked like runts; donkey-coloured, they had bushy manes and long tails. Nicander heaved himself up on one, which didn’t appear to be troubled by the burden.

  Their baggage went on a pack mule and with the other ponies, five drivers and Yulduz they got under way.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  As they skirted the base of the mountains, they were overawed by their dark bulk thrusting vertically to arrogant heights. The limitless immensity of the desert floor stretched out to the other side.

  After an hour or so a river valley opened up and they entered the world of the mountain.

  Bare, forbidding grey cliffs dropped precipitously down to the narrow valley floor and a small jade-coloured river.

  On each side the cliffs began closing in and before long they were threading their way along an uneven rocky track by the side of the river. Ahead through the winding defile Nicander caught breathtaking glimpses of snowy peaks.

  A constant cool wind funnelling down from the uplands through the ravines obliged them to find warmer clothes. As they wound ever deeper into the mountain fastness it turned to a sun-bright cold that was piercing.

  Sure-footed, their ponies made their way forward on the rough terrain, delicately, like cats. It was now obvious why these were used in preference to the big-boned horses of the plains.

  By the end of the day their track was appreciably steeper. They stopped at a flat area, a saddle between two valleys. It had spectacular views of the interior, the soaring peaks now tinged with a delicate rose as the lower areas shadowed before nightfall.

  On this caravan there were no crew to take care of the domestics and while Nicander and Marius set about rigging a heavy black tent Tai Yi and Ying Mei took their pot to where a tiny cooking fire crackled.

  Quite swiftly the mountains turned purple and then all disappeared into the shadows of night.

  With no campfire, no entertainments and no fellow travellers there was nothing for it but to retire. To reduce the load, a single communal tent had been brought – and sleeping arrangements agreed. The ladies would enter first and when decency allowed, call out, on their honour to face away as the men did likewise.

  The tent was roomy but stuffy with a strong odour of animal. Nicander threw the door flaps wide but the night air was frigid, feeling far colder than the desert and with a humid edge to it, much more cutting. He quickly laced them up again.

  They lay back in the dark and after a round of stilted ‘good nights’ each was left alone with their thoughts.

  Across the saddle they descended to another valley floor trending in a different direction. It widened and after a while they took a steep path that led out on to a sparse meadow. The ponies were given their head to crop the grass.

  Without any warning a squall came up and fat drops of rain began falling, icy cold. It passed as quickly, leaving the grass wet and glittering and the sun beaming in warmth.

  Suddenly Ying Mei pointed to the sky. A pair of great eagles circled high up. ‘Wild creatures!’

  They were the first such they had seen after months in the dead heart of the desert.

  ‘And there.’ Marius’s keen eyes spotted a montane sheep perilously picking its way along the side of the far mountain.

  They spied more and the time passed agreeably until they found themselves entering some kind of upland kingdom between the crags and peaks. Pleasant grassy sward, trickling crystal brooks and here and there the tiny dash of colour of a wildflower.

  Then a settlement came
into view with blue smoke spiralling up from squat stone huts, flocks of sheep and a cluster of gaily decorated round tents off to one side.

  Their arrival brought out children in ribboned pigtails and little black trousers screaming in delight and women eager to see what goods had been brought.

  But they did not stay long. Yulduz chivvied on the proceedings, glancing repeatedly at the sky.

  Soon they had left the grassland. Their track took on a marked upward gradient and the animals strained at their loads.

  They passed through a towering canyon, a dismal place of cold dankness and shadow, and out into a broader valley where they continued their ascent.

  The ponies were now making heavy weather of it, panting. Yulduz got off his mount and led it, ordering Nicander and the others to do so too. Puffing and wheezing with the high altitude they tramped over the stony path, now littered with boulders and treacherously wet.

  Often the sun was obscured by clouds streaming over the peaks, instantly sending the temperature down to a numbing cold.

  Further on they came to their first snow, scattered slush that made it hard to see what they were stepping into and in their bulky sheepskins difficult and slippery going.

  They passed over the rise and a wide upland area opened out before them. On it many long-haired beasts were grazing peacefully on the slopes before a small village. Yulduz gestured towards it with a smile. As they headed there the first flakes of a light snow came whirling down.

  They stopped at the largest house, a wooden two-storey structure with lean-to stables and animal pens.

  ‘My son’s house!’ Yulduz said proudly.

  Inside, aglow with the ruddy glare of a fire, it stank richly of animals.

  After he was greeted by a succession of sun-browned relatives, Yulduz introduced a shy woman in filigreed headgear and voluminous dress as his son’s wife.

  Then came a number of wide-eyed children to greet them and a deeply wrinkled old woman. ‘Her mother.’