Julian Stockwin - THE SILK TREE

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.’

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.

Yes, Turfan was indeed hot – but most houses had underground retreats where it would be cool enough to sleep. Yet it was close to the Tien Shan mountains where the snow would be falling feet thick while they were baking below. But snowmelt was the very reason for the existence of Turfan. It came down in torrents, streaming far out into the desert. With it, irrigation was possible and there was more than enough to sustain a whole kingdom.

The dynasty that ruled Kaochang might owe fealty to any external power that was in sway at the time but thrived by reason of one thing: competence at regulating the caravan trade. A river of precious and exotic foreign goods flowed in both directions, real wealth, with the Sogdians at its very heart making it happen.

As Turfan was allowed its independence the Chinese had no power there and therefore they should expect all the bureaucratic nonsense of a foreign country waiting for them. Fortunately, Su had Sogdian friends who would be able to help matters along – for a small fee.

With a glint in his eye Su declaimed that Turfan was to be experienced! All the races and breeds of man that ever were – long-haired Gokturks, uncouth Uighurs, the odd Tibetan, he’d even seen with is own eyes some Tocharians with red hair and blue eyes! And of course those from other oasis kingdoms – the Kuchean dancing girls were famed for their liveliness, and-

‘Thank you, Su hsien sheng,’ Tai Yi said with asperity. ‘For giving us an understanding of the nature of Turfan.’

After the hard experiences of the Gobi it was easier going. Days of soft, wind-blown sand and then on the horizon, a grand white-tipped mountain range rising – the Tien Shan. They had crossed from one side of the Great Desert to the other.

With a quickening of the pulse Nicander noted that now their direction was firmly to the west. At the same time the country changed abruptly from the parched glare of desert sands to the sudden green of fertility where a snowmelt river chuckled through.

The caravan closed with the mountains and then, gloriously, a great town lay in the plains beneath them. Turfan.

Within an hour a detachment of Kaochang cavalry had ridden up to escort them in, and they arrived in style.

It was on a scale they hadn’t seen since Lan Chou; big, sprawling and with the vigour and noisiness of a great trading centre.

The first order of business was for Su to render his documents relating to his travellers. The pass he held for the caravan as a whole detailed their status and occupations, their intent of travel and liability for imposts.

Each traveller then had to produce their own to be levied a transit fee and issued with a permit. Ying Mei was required to sign for Nicander and Marius; underneath they made their marks – touching the inkstone as instructed, they made three horizontal lines under her beautifully formed characters.