Lin looked down at his boots and sighed at the injustice of the world. But when he looked up again, there was a brightness in his eyes.
‘Never mind that. We will speak with him briefly and afterwards you can meet the person who played Empress Tu for you this afternoon.’
I felt a tingling in my loins. But I refrained from scratching my itchy balls, knowing how it hurt Lin’s feelings. Still, I grinned wickedly, imagining the supple girl gyrating just for me.
‘A secret assignation after good entertainment and plenty to drink. Perfect.’
I crossed back over the courtyard, and, watched by a curious Gurbesu, began to dress in my finest.
Later, the square was crowded with people, most of whom had richly embroidered robes on. They strolled around, bowing to their superiors and taking acknowledgements from their inferiors. Rows of benches had been set up facing the stage, which was now lit with flaming torches, and most spaces were rapidly being occupied by the elite. In the very front row lounged a small group of Mongols dressed in clothes quite different from the rest of the crowd. They wore short tunics in blue or red and trimmed in fur with grey trousers. One or two of this small elite had embroidered silk tunics but their mien was nevertheless militaristic. The man at the centre of attention had a full coat of boiled leather strips that marked him out as a cavalryman. Lin pressed my arm and hissed in my ear.
‘See the one dressed like a soldier? That is Taitemir, the governor. His remit covers this city and the one we are journeying to. He is Li Wen-Tao’s boss.’
As he spoke, the man to whom he was referring turned to scan the crowd behind him. His cold gaze took us in too, stopping on my fine features for a chilling moment. Taitemir’s face was hard and composed, his stony eyes outlined by crows’ feet that radiated from their corners like the sun’s rays. He was used to peering into the far distance at an enemy and scaring them with his look. I was glad I had decided not to get involved with him. He would have seen through me in an instant. Even now, I would have kept well clear of him, but Lin was bolder. He squared his slim shoulders and strode towards the Mongol overlord of the region. I reluctantly followed, with Gurbesu, Alberoni and Tadeusz close on my heels.
The crowd, impressed by Lin’s red robe, parted, and we all sliced through the throng with ease. As Lin approached Taitemir, the Mongol deigned to give him a perfunctory look. Lin bowed low, and Taitemir’s gaze focused on me. He screwed his eyes up as if assessing an enemy, though it may just have been in curiosity at the barbarian he observed before him. Then Lin’s head bobbed back up, and I was spared being stripped to the bone by Taitemir’s gaze. We made our way to a space on the second row and settled down to watch this phenomenon so new to us Westerners called a play. Lin spoke to a neighbouring member of the audience then turned to me.
‘It is a new crime case play called the Mo-Ho-Lo Doll. Mo-Ho-Lo is an Indian demigod – a snake-headed demon – whom we Chin have made into a handsome youth with a serpent’s head cap. Dolls of him are used on the festival held on the seventh day of the seventh month.’
Suddenly an acrobat sprang on stage and the tale began. Occasionally, Lin gave us a whispered running commentary at the expense of hisses from our neighbours. The story that began to unfold was one of a wicked apothecary who lusted after this man’s wife. My pretty empress from earlier in the day played the part of the wife. The apothecary poisons her husband, and then when she refuses to marry him he denounces her to the court as the murderer. By now, I wasn’t paying any attention to Lin’s commentary as I was riveted by the pretty acrobat I had encountered earlier. She was willowy and alluring, and even I could follow the plot relating to her being accused of murdering her husband. I could see that the man who lusted after her had done the deed of course. And that he would accuse the woman when she refused his advances. Lin leaned closer to whisper in my ear and avoid Gurbesu hearing. He needn’t have worried – she was entranced by the whole play and giving it her full attention.
‘The person you wish to see is called Tien-jan Hsiu. It means Natural Elegance. Be at my rooms after the play finishes.’
I nodded my head, eager for the play to run its course. By the end, the object of my lust had been exonerated and rewarded for her purity. I hoped the actress – I think that is the word I should use for these performers – was not quite as pure as the woman she portrayed on stage. With the play finished and the actors vigorously applauded, the crowd began to disperse. As we got up, I looked back to the stage to catch a sight of Natural Elegance, but all I could see as the burning torches dimmed was disappointing. The striking view to the rear of a Chinese mountain was now just a flat and pallid painted backcloth with creases in it. I marvelled that I had been so taken in by it all. One of the male actors walked across the stage, his painted face now bare, and I could see his acne scars. He, who had a short time ago been an evil giant of a man, was no more than a skinny youth. I shrugged my shoulders and sighed. Gurbesu was at my side, so I took the opportunity to make my excuses.
‘Darling, I must go and talk with Lin again.’
She stroked my cheek and pouted.
‘But it’s so late, Nick.’
For a moment I almost relented. But it was only a moment. Natural Elegance’s suppleness came to mind again, and I tried out a miserable look on my face. I hoped it was as convincing as the actors’ mugging had been.
‘We will be on our way again tomorrow, and we have little time left to plan. One of the petitioners in our case is here, and we must speak with him. It is a shame, but duty calls.’
She gave me a funny look, and I thought I had overcooked it. But then she sighed and squeezed my hand.
‘I will stay awake for your return. Just in case.’
I gave her a brave but sad smile, and we went our separate ways through the milling crowd.
SIX
One should be as careful in choosing one’s pleasures as in avoiding calamities.
Lin’s rooms were lit by a few small lamps, creating pools of light and shade. Mainly shade. His servant, Po Ku, was nowhere in evidence, and peering into the gloom I could just make out the familiar figure of my friend reclining on a low bench. He had already divested himself of his formal robe and relaxed in his white silk shirt with a red sash around his waist. He raised a hand and beckoned me in.
‘Zhong Kui, you look very demonic tonight. Did you like the play?’
I slumped on the bench opposite, loosening my own fur-trimmed Mongol jacket.
‘What I could understand, yes. It was an interesting story of a murder that was not too far from our own case. A woman suspected of murdering her own husband, and incriminated by the real murderer. Is that what you expect to find when we get to P’ing-Yang-Fu?’
Lin gave a little high-pitched laugh. The brutal castration as a boy had left him with a light voice that he often masked by whispering. It gave him an air of mystery and self-control which was actually quite in keeping with his actions. When he spoke out loud, however, he piped rather childishly.
‘I wondered if you would see the parallels. Maybe we have both learned something from this trifle of an entertainment.’
‘Ah, yes. We should be looking for the spurned lover.’ I paused and licked my lips. ‘Talking of lovers…’
Lin smiled a strange enigmatic smile.
‘Yes. It is all arranged. But first we must see Guan Han-Ching. He is the petitioner I told you about.’
‘The scribbler of plays?’
A clear voice rang out from behind me, speaking in the Mongol tongue for my benefit.
‘I may be a second-class citizen in Kubilai’s empire, occupied in the lowliest of trades. But I would like to believe that I am the best at what I do, sir, and more than a scribbler.’