‘We are in your hands, Uncle.’
‘Then, to the first consideration. To leave China is a serious matter – there are the customs, of course, and you will be searched for contraband, but above all your passes will be demanded.’
‘Passes?’
‘Signed by the military commander that you are no threat, are not spies, are known to the authorities as loyal subjects of the Empire and, most importantly, have good reason to leave. These will be sighted by the caravan master before he lets you join. I need to arrange these for you with General Wu. For that, I will have to find a story that satisfies.’
He pondered. ‘Here we have a well-born lady summoned by her father to attend on his final sickness in, say, Aksu. She is accompanied by a lady attendant, naturally. That is the easier. She is under the protection of two holy men – that is the harder. These two are clearly foreigners and therefore suspect. However, she can vouch for them and carries a letter under the seal of a well-known abbot of a monastery here in Chang An.
‘I think it best if these holy men carried some token of their truth-seeking, an earnest of their studies while here in China, something to take back with them to their native kingdom. By way of holy scriptures, as it were. I’m thinking of the Great Learning and Mencius, perhaps?’
He looked pointedly at Ying Mei.
She bit her lip then said in flat tones, ‘The Doctrine of the Mean, Uncle. The Classic of Changes and of course the Analects have meaning comprehensible even to the barbarous.’
‘Splendid! I think we have our story! Oh, your family name must change of course, my dear. That of my agent in Aksu is P’eng, you shall borrow it for now. And these faithful gentlemen have a Chinese name but this, of course, is unknown to the authorities and may safely remain.’
He stood. ‘Time presses. If they seek you ardently, we may soon expect imperial agents in Chang An. This very afternoon I will make enquiries, but meanwhile you shall be my welcome guests.’
CHAPTER THIRTY
The next day a little procession weaved through the busy crowds. At its head a footman wearing an emblazoned tabard sounded a gong every five paces to clear the way. Several attendants followed and then Kuo and the two holy men, more footmen in the rear.
They had received the best of news: a caravan would leave shortly and with a letter from the abbot secured by a suitable donation, Kuo’s friend the general would be agreeable, for a trifling fee, to expedite their passes.
And now they were heading for the market to fit the men out for their great journey, Tai Yi and Ying Mei in a separate party with Kuo’s wife.
A maze of streets opened up; the wards were divided into lanes, each specialising in different goods. They passed singing crickets in cages, apothecaries, ironsmiths and fortune-tellers.
Kuo led them to a bazaar completely devoted to the camel caravan.
There was a welter of offerings: bridles for camel and horse, saddles of every level of comfort and expense and, of course, clothing. With the pungent aroma of new leather and fresh-oiled felt on the air they made their selections under the canny eye of their benefactor.
First was good stout ox-hide boots with extra thick soles. Deserts were not all sand and wind-scoured gravel would be trying on the feet.
Next came full-length padded cloaks with all-enfolding lace-up hats recommended for the fierce cold.
Then – peculiar sandshoes made of felt scales like a fish, lined with colourful cloth and reinforced with leather. They had a strong drawstring that bound them tight to the ankle, vital for long stretches in the dunes.
Other articles for the journey were added: personal water gourds, a clothing repair kit, wide bamboo hats against a merciless sun, gloves.
Kuo advised they delay buying hot-weather clothes, linen smocks and trousers, until they got to the edge of the infernal regions.
After a restorative snack of pork dumplings Kuo announced that they were expected soon at the caravanserai which was finalising the dispatch details of their caravan.
The offices of the caravan master were in a large cobbled courtyard, with stables and warehouses on the other three sides. Nicander’s heart beat faster – in just two days they would be leaving on a fearsome journey that if all went well would only come to an end in Constantinople!
Seeing Kuo, a large dark-featured man bellowed, ‘You’re back!’
‘I said I would, Su hsien sheng. Shall we talk?’
‘Who are those?’
‘Two of your passenger freight, should your price be right. I have another two coming later. Now-’
‘Passes?’
‘On their way. The Lady P’eng has been summoned to her father’s side in Aksu, a final sickness – things have been rushed, you understand.’
‘Lady? Aksu? Sounds like trouble to me, Kuo!’
‘Not at all. These gentlemen, foreign holy men, have agreed to be her protectors and she does have a female companion. And she’s of gentle birth, no competition for your girls on the way.’
‘Humph. So I guess she’s after top treatment?’
‘I don’t think so. In this time of sadness she desires privacy, not display. Tell me, is this an official trip or…?’
‘No, private. No hordes of slaves sucking your water all the time, if that’s your meaning. Carrying silks, that’s raw bolts and made goods, porcelain, copper. There’s a crowd o’ Buddhists bearing brass images to Khotan – that’ll be fun for everybody – the usual other stuff. Two hundred and twenty camels in all. You’re not shipping on this run?’
‘Only my two-legged freight and a few letters. Anyway, that sounds quiet enough, gold and ivory in a caravan always makes me nervous. Shall we get to details?’
‘Fine.’
‘What’s the escort?’
‘Fifty cavalry, Uighurs; twenty bowmen, Kuchean and Chinese, but these are good men.’
‘Usual fee?’
‘Joint, divided among all with a stake in the caravan? Yes, the usual.’
‘Good.’
‘So you’ll be finalising? You’ve left it a bit late, Kuo.’
‘Not so fast. I trust you, Su Li, best caravan master I know, but I’d like to set eyes on your camels if you please.’
As they were led out from the stables for inspection Nicander blinked at the first one and looked again. ‘Wh-what do you call that?’
‘What’s wrong with him?’ Su asked defensively.
‘He’s got two humps!’
‘What do you expect of a camel, you idiot! He’s going to cost you, Kuo! Troublemaker, knew it as soon as I sees him.’
‘No, no. He’s a holy man from a far kingdom, I don’t suppose he’s ever seen a camel before.’
Kuo and Su agreed final prices and fees in the office.
‘Holy men, monks, like? There’s a cut in it for them if they know healing. Not much, there’s others I can call on…’
‘What’s the word on the route? Any worries?’
‘Tibetans causing trouble east o’ Niya, knocked over a garrison at Miran. Usual bother, otherwise quiet.’
‘Seems well enough. You’ve been to the diviner?’
‘Why would I not, soon as we knew the date for sure?’ Su replied in an injured tone. ‘Almanac gives us a fair passage, should we sight the rat star before we leave.’
‘So we’re settled. My party will see you at departure.’
They returned to Kuo’s home to find the ‘holy scriptures’ had arrived from the bookseller.
Written on a curious material called ‘paper’, these were in an ingenious portable form Nicander had never seen before – the usual scroll flattened and folded on itself many times so ‘pages’ could be turned. Kuo found a gemstone specimen box of the right size to carry them and demonstrated its false bottom, used to conceal the more precious stones.
That evening Nicander felt restless, and sensing Marius was too, suggested they take in the gardens.
They walked in silence, then Marius said, ‘Can see m’self setting to rights a dish or three of faggots when we get back. How about you, m’ friend?’
Nicander gave a half smile. How could he put into words his sense of foreboding?