The fire flared and spat but already people were moving to be near it, as all around the darkness fell silently and completely.
‘Korkut sheng, where is your wife?’ Nicander said, needing to reach out.
‘As always, she paints her face as if she’s to meet the king of the fairies the next hour. She’ll be here – if only to hear the gossip.’ The burly merchant’s face was impassive as it was lit by the firelight.
‘Well, Ya? Your men are posted?’ Korkut asked.
The commander of the escort, a self-important and opinionated ex-soldier of obscure origins, was condescending to sit with the travellers instead of his customary holding court in his own tent.
‘Of course.’
Nicander found it difficult to follow the thick accent; the man was reputedly a Uighur due to his almost Western features – and brutal treatment of his men.
Zarina stepped into the firelight in a profusion of fur and exuberantly coloured leggings. ‘Good evening, everyone!’ she beamed, and took up position next to her husband.
‘Good to see you in spirits, habib,’ he said, helping to arrange her cloak.
‘Yes, dear. I’m always feeling better when I have so many big men about to protect me. You know the desert frightens me.’
‘As I keep telling you, demons are terrified by fire – as long as those lazy beggars keep it going you’ve nothing to worry about.’
‘Oh? You men never stop to think what it is for us ladies. What if we have to go out into the dark to… you know… what then?’
‘Then, beloved, it is clear I must go with you, whatever your business.’
There was laughter but it tailed off as a figure came out of the blackness, moving gracefully towards them.
It was Ying Mei.
No one spoke as she entered the firelight and looked about uncertainly.
Until now she had kept to herself, taking her meals in her carriage and seldom seen.
She was in a plain robe and held a shawl close.
Seeing Nicander she went to him. ‘May I sit with you, Ni lao na?’ she asked in an even tone, her elegant poise not out of place at a court reception.
Thunderstruck at being addressed directly for the first time, he stood up. ‘Why, of course, Lady P’eng.’
Tai Yi silently appeared with a travelling cushion.
Nicander took his place again slowly, aware that not a word had been spoken by the others. Ying Mei sat next to him, looking modestly into the fire.
What did it mean?
Zarina smiled at Ying Mei. ‘You’ll have had a dusty ride in the carriage, my dear. How do you keep yourself so…?’ The well-meant opening faltered at the realisation that she had forgotten the complex honorific due a lady – who of course in any event was not to be troubled with such trivialities.
‘A woman’s appearance is her chief ornamentation, without which pearls and gold lose their meaning,’ was the quick reply. ‘As your own appearance and dress does so well confirm. It is our duty to the world, is it not?’
‘If it please you, Lady P’eng, we’ve been concerned you’ll suffer much in this journey,’ Korkut said awkwardly. ‘It must be for some very important reason, I fear.’
His wife glared at him but Ying Mei answered in the same quiet, level voice. ‘I’m called to my father in Aksu who lies ill. I shall obey him, I believe.’
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ Korkut said hastily with a quick wink at Zarina. ‘We understand.’
A familiar bong started up at the kitchen and before long a steaming wheel-sized platter arrived. Nicander pulled out his bowl. The serving man hesitated then humbly went over to Ying Mei and offered the dish, kneeling with his head bowed.
‘Thank you,’ she said equably and reached out delicately with her chopsticks. Selecting a choice collop of mutton she offered it to Nicander.
He could hardly believe it. This was a common gesture of politeness in Chinese society – but among equals. Was this…
Ying Mei then did the same for Marius and Tai Yi as well, before helping herself.
Nicander struggled to make sense of what was happening. Was it because her self-imposed isolation in this vast emptiness was no longer bearable and she was craving warmth and fellowship? Had the Ice Queen melted? He didn’t know whether to be relieved or scornful. But how far did it go?
‘It must have felt quite a wrench to leave China?’ he said.
‘Yes.’ Her expression was composed but she did not catch his eye.
‘I suppose you’re wondering when you’ll hear proper Chinese again,’ he continued.
She froze – and he saw that her eyes were glistening.
He tried to make light of it. ‘But not before we’ve had a few more interesting adventures, I’d say.’
‘I’d call ’em more trials,’ rumbled Korkut, tucking into more mutton. ‘The stretch between Cherchen and Niya is particularly bad. I remember when-’
‘Are you not feeling well, dear?’ Zarina said in sudden concern, looking at Ying Mei.
She got up and went to her, squeezing her shoulder gently but Ying Mei did not respond, and held herself rigid.
‘The first time’s always hard. Leaving behind-’
‘Thank you, Korkut tai tai,’ Tai Yi said, helping Ying Mei to her feet. ‘The Lady P’eng will now retire to rest.’ She shepherded her unresisting mistress away.
‘Odd sort of woman,’ Korkut muttered, picking at his teeth.
‘No she’s not!’ Zarina snorted. ‘The poor lamb – she’s homesick, that’s all.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The first indication they had of Dunhuang, the oasis to the west, was an increased number of mounds of dull sand clumped around scraggy sage brush.
Grey outlines of hills formed, and then out of nowhere, a single tree, gaunt, with spiky dark-green leaves.
Closer to, there were more trees. The hills were actually massive dunes – not just one or two but stretching away out of sight one after another in mighty curved waveforms.
The caravan wound past the edge of the dunes which towered above them a hundred feet in an awe-inspiring mass.
It was approaching night but Su pressed on into the gathering dusk.
Then a sight to clutch the heart: a walled town. Well-watered gardens outside, people moving, lights, distant sounds of human activity – life!
Nicander’s horse snorted and tossed his head impatiently. Somewhere not far was water.
They followed the edge of the wall then picked up a track along its side and came to a river. It seemed so improbable; rearing dunes and lifeless light-grey sand, but moving through it a channel of living, sparkling water.
They had arrived in the confines of a caravanserai courtyard open to the stream. The order to dismount was given and a crew took charge of the animals and led them to water. The passengers found themselves quickly surrounded: small children running about, merchants claiming their goods, officials haranguing the caravan master, hucksters and others who simply stared in awe.
A welcoming band struck up – cymbals and lutes, a wailing pan pipe of sorts, three drummers. The crowd increased.
Nicander and Marius were told: ‘You two – follow him.’
A youth with laughing eyes darted ahead to show them to their cell in the low building that reeked of the dust of ages. He held out his hand for a coin but Nicander shook his head sorrowfully. The lad ran off trailing shrill abuse.
Their kit was finally brought and they made free with a generous pitcher of water.
A little later Korkut appeared at their door, grinning. ‘Look, while we’re in an oasis we’re off caravan victuals, look to ourselves. Now myself, I don’t take to caravanserai feed, too basic if you get my meaning. Zarina thought you’d like to come with us to the Golden Peach, it being our first night. That is if you haven’t an arrangement with the monks, you being holy men and so forth.’
‘Kind of you to think of us, Korkut sheng,’ Nicander replied. ‘We’d be honoured to come.’ He paused. ‘Would it be possible to take with us the Lady P’eng? She being so cast down and…’
Korkut’s bushy eyebrows rose. ‘Well, if you think so. I have to tell you that the Peach is very much your regular oasis inn, which is to say its pleasures and entertainments might not be to the taste of a lady.’