Julian Stockwin - THE SILK TREE

There was one such, and in a better-quality quarter up the steep slope above the caravanserai.

The door was answered by a maid who quickly sent for her mistress, a Mrs Malech.

She was a pleasant-faced woman who took to Ying Mei immediately. A guest of quality who knew Greek: it would be an honour to have her.

It was a modest but comfortable house, faintly reminiscent of the antique Euboean style with its mock porticoes and inner courtyard. Quiet, away from the lower streets, it seemed to fit the bill perfectly.

‘What do you think, Ying Mei?’ Nicander asked, puzzled that she had suddenly gone pale and withdrawn.

‘Yes. It will do,’ she said woodenly, then enquired, ‘What are you asking for the rooms?’

Mrs Malech named a value in Sogdian soms which Nicander’s quick merchant’s brain quickly converted to a usable reference, but before he could speak Tai Yi snapped in Greek, ‘That’s too expensive!’

Nicander wheeled around in astonishment.

‘Who do you think I was practising with?’ Ying Mei said with a small smile.

He shook his head in admiration as an arrangement was satisfactorily concluded.

‘Then you’ll need your gear to settle in. We’ll have it sent to you from the caravanserai. Is there anything else…?’ The lump in his throat had returned.

Ying Mei turned and looked at him for a long moment. ‘You promise you’ll come back and say a proper goodbye before you leave?’ she whispered.

Nicander nodded slowly, unable to speak.

Marius chuckled. ‘O’ course we will! There’s the little matter of settling up for the rest of our trip, we haven’t forgotten. Come on, Nico, we’ve a lot to do.’

‘Well, how did you get on?’ Nicander asked Marius.

‘There’s a caravan, sure enough, but the master needs clearance from his agent before he’ll put us on the books. How about you?’

‘Good and bad.’

‘Tell me.’

‘I know more about where we are now.’

‘Oh?’

‘Marcanda of Transoxiana.’

‘What?’

‘This is what Alexander the Great called this place when he conquered it. And it’s why they still have Greek here. You wouldn’t believe it but he put in another week’s march from here towards Osh but when his generals saw the mountains we came down they mutinied and wouldn’t go on any further.’

In a way Nicander felt a kinship with these ancestors of his and a comforting realisation that at last they were on known territory. On this very ground Greeks and Macedonians had set their boots and in a line that stretched back to Greece itself, a saga of conquest that was unmatched in history.

‘You also said bad,’ Marius prompted.

‘Yes. The way home is due west in a straight line. Just a small obstacle we have to face.’

‘What?’

‘We’re the wrong side of Persia, it’s in the way and we have to get through it – Justinian’s greatest enemy and we don’t quite look like harmless Sogdians.’

Marius was not going to be put off. ‘Well, let’s see what happens with the caravan. We may have to go in disguise or something. We’ll work it out – after coming all this bloody way there’s nothing going to stop me now!’

Nicander tried to be enthusiastic for his friend’s sake.

It was tedious, having to remain at the caravanserai for word, not being able to get out to see sights that might take his mind off things, or visit a wine house to drown his sorrows. Hanging over everything was the crushing thought of having to see Ying Mei one last time.

Nicander pulled himself together. It had to be done. Then he would try to get on with what was left of life.

‘Marius. I think I’ll say my farewells to the ladies now. No sense in waiting to the last minute. Will you come?’

‘I don’t think so. I’m not much for goodbyes, and some bastard has to stay around here. You go, tell ’em I wish ’em well, that sort o’ thing, you know. Oh, and don’t forget the settling up!’

Ahead was her lodgings: in a way so sweet-sad in its Hellenism of another age, and from now on where she would have her being. How could he just go in and end it all?

Nicander shied away as if he’d come to the wrong address. But this was just delaying things. He turned back, determined to see it through; he would make it short and final, be strong and resolute – it was the only way.

His hand hovered at the door then he knocked firmly.

Ying Mei opened it uncertainly, pallid and tense. Her face lit up on seeing him. ‘Ah Yung! You came!’

‘Why, yes,’ Nicander answered, taking in the image of her standing there; he would remember her beauty for as long as he lived.

‘I promised… to say goodbye before we left.’

‘Please come in!’ she said happily.

The room had been transformed: there was now an elegant throw over the long couch, a deep-pile rug in green and gold on the wooden floor. And after her desert travails: flowers everywhere.

‘Would you like some wine? Here it is all made from grapes, I find.’

‘That is kind of you.’

He sat diffidently at one end of the couch.

‘Tai Yi is not here at the moment,’ she called from a side room. ‘She went out with Mrs Malech who’s showing her all the local shops and bazaars. I… I couldn’t really face it myself but they said they’ll be back for supper.’

He stood up. ‘There’s nobody else here? I should really leave.’

There was a sudden clatter. She hurried in. ‘Please – please don’t go!’ she blurted, her face strained and the glint of a tear visible. Nicander steeled himself – she was taking the reality of her exile harder than she was admitting to the world and it was all he could do to prevent himself going to comfort her.

‘I – of course.’

‘I’m such a silly, it’s just that…’

‘Ying Mei, you don’t need to explain. I understand.’

His heart began to weep for her – and what could not be.

‘Yes, I know you do. We always did get along well, didn’t we?’

He struggled to answer. ‘You were a good pupil.’

She came and sat on the opposite end of the couch. ‘And you! Do you remember how quickly you understood how Hsun Tzu and Confucius could be enemies, yet friends at the same time? I was amazed at you!’

‘It must be that my teacher was a very wise and patient… being,’ he said, unable to keep the feeling from his voice.

She looked at him, her expression unreadable, her hands working together.

In the silence the emotion in his breast swelled.

‘Ying Mei – I can’t help it. I have to tell you this or die!’ he cried out suddenly. ‘I… I love you so much! I can’t bear for you to be taken from me, God help me!’

She froze at the words but he didn’t care. In a few minutes it would all be over anyway and if it was the last thing he did on earth he wanted her to know how deeply, passionately and hopelessly he felt about her.

‘I… I’m sorry, but this is how I am. I’ve tried but I just can’t stop it! My love – it keeps getting stronger and I c-can’t help it!’

Tears came and he gazed at her in dumb misery.

She still sat rigid; then, very deliberately, moved over and knelt down in front of him.

‘Ni K’an Ta. I… I didn’t know!’ she said with an infinite tenderness. ‘You should have told me.’

She took his hands, raised them to her lips and kissed them gently, looking into his eyes with a compassion that was unbearable. ‘For I would tell you… that I care for you too,’ she whispered. ‘I have for a long while but I mustn’t show it. You see, I have to say it: I… I love you too.’

A storm of feeling broke and he tore himself free and stood, his chest heaving. If he didn’t run – flee from the room instantly – he would be overcome.