Julian Stockwin - THE SILK TREE

‘Not until they say you’re ready,’ Nicander said wearily, pulling it back again.

‘Have you checked the silk eggs, Nico? I’ve got to know they’re safe.’

Reassured, he closed his eyes again.

The two men had been left at the lamasery as a deserving charity, poor travellers on a caravan that had been set upon by brigands and who’d made a desperate escape into the desert, arriving with little more than the clothes they wore.

Not daring to reveal the contents of Tai Yi’s chest in a strange place they had humbly accepted the hospitality of the lamasery. It was not a richly endowed one, however, and there had been pointed remarks about their future plans.

One vital piece of information they had gleaned was that Khotan was a major trading centre on the rim of the Great Desert. From here argosies set out for many destinations, especially Kashgar. Situated where the Kunlun range in the south curved up to meet the Tien Shan from the north, Kashgar was the transfer point for goods coming from the desert to the mountain crossings.

No one seemed to know exactly what lay beyond the mountains – India was somewhere past them, in another direction was the land of horses that sweated blood. Yet another route, it was said, led to the home of the barbarous nomads.

As it happened, Kashgar fell in well with their story: that the journey to Ying Mei’s sick father’s bedside had been interrupted by their fleeing across the desert to escape marauders and now she wanted to resume it by going to Aksu the other way around – to do so, they’d have to pass through Kashgar. They still had their original documents to back up their tale.

Nicander did not want to vex Marius until he had regained his strength but he had much on his mind. He recalled Su’s worry that it was late in the season – did this apply to mountain travel too? And there was the fact that as Marius lay recovering, Su and the caravan was on their way here around the same desert edge. If they didn’t get to Kashgar before them, they’d meet somewhere along the route. And were Tai Yi and Ying Mei safe? They had been separated when the ladies were led away to a nunnery to recover. So many concerns… but at least they had been able to reward Arif for his loyalty with the gift of Meng Hsiang’s deposit.

There was every reason to be gone at the first opportunity. Nicander had heard that in these parts caravans were more frequent and the abbot had been quick to point out that one was on its way north in only a few days. But Marius-

A firm knock at the door broke into his thoughts. With a disapproving frown a monk informed him that they had visitors, but being female they could not enter the lamasery. Nicander gave a start: it could only be Ying Mei and Tai Yi.

He was escorted to the gate. Ying Mei stood outside wearing borrowed novice’s robes. Apart from the high colour of a sun-touched face she seemed none the worse for her ordeal. Tai Yi had not been so lucky and her swollen features obviously gave her pain.

Ying Mei gave a hesitant smile. ‘Tell me, how is Ah Wu?’

‘He’s on the mend. Complains all the time of lying still. We’ve been told he’s too weak to leave yet, so I worry we’re going to miss the next caravan.’

‘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!’