We’re ready to leave in the morning and the Commander’s about to give the order when a delegation led by Zhao Zhan arrives from the estate to bring us the Lord’s formal farewell.  The Commander replies suitably.  A long object is handed over with some ceremony.  The Commander speaks again.  Zhao Zhan bows and the delegation withdraws.

The Commander walks over to where Mo Jiang’s standing with the rest of us and hands the object over to him. 

“For you,” he says.

The wrapping falls away.  It’s a flute, carved out of jade.  It’s worth a fortune.  Mo Jiang goes pale and starts to stammer.  The Commander cuts him off.  “Lord Zhao feels your talent's worthy of a better instrument.  I thanked him on your behalf.  Now mount up, all of you and let’s be on our way.”

As he turns and moves off, Mo Jiang finds his voice and stammers, “B-but I don’t know how to play it.”

“Mo Jiang,” I say, “You taught yourself to play on a bit of bamboo with a few holes cut in it.  This’ll be a breeze.”

He’s in a daze.  Grinning, we help him onto his horse.  And I mount Arrow, because miraculously, it seems that I no longer have to travel in the medical wagon all the time and can now ride with the column again like everyone else. 

“Did you hear?” Wu Shun says to us, keeping his voice down but unable to subdue a certain amount of glee, “Qin Feng’s on latrine duty for the week because he got pissed last night.”

Unworthy though it may be, for some reason, the day seems brighter.

The caravan creaks off and we retrace our steps to the road we were following before.  We’ll now be moving on the main trading route which leads out of the Empire and into lands unknown, to us at least.  There’ll be mountains and deserts.  I can’t wait.  But as I ride along, I can’t help mulling over everything I’ve learned in the last few days.  It’s like having a window opened unexpectedly to admit a freezing wind and the more I think about it, the colder I am with fury.  My mother, my grandfather, Lord Zhao:  three futures casually destroyed at the whim of an obsessed Emperor, my father.  He already had dozens of beauties in his harem, but he was ready to go to extreme lengths to get one more, only to abandon her at yet another whim.  The brutality of it.  The waste.  Lord Zhao isn’t a man who consciously invites pity, but I ache for him, living all these years without the person he loved. 

As I think these sombre thoughts, a hand lands on my shoulder and I look up to see the Commander, who’s ridden up behind me.

“You were the star of the show last night,” he says, smiling.

“You were a hard act to follow,” I respond.

The hand leaves my shoulder and he’s off.  I watch him have a quick word with Mo Jiang, who flushes red and grins, and then he rides on back up to the head of the column. I know that he’ll have a word with each of us about last night’s dinner. 

How can he look so unconcerned, given all this plotting that we’re caught up in?  My mind's full of questions.  How are we going to get out of this?  Depose a King?  Take over a kingdom?  Where do I fit into it all?  But then I think, maybe it’ll be a chance to escape once and for all.  Then I could join the troop and stay with all my friends.  Then I could stay with him. 

Maybe working in the medical wagon isn’t so bad after all.  At least it doesn’t give me time to think.

Over the following days, we move further away from the prosperous plains and into the north-western land corridor along which the trading road has run since time immemorial.  Mountains tower in the south, while to the north lie more mountains, deserts and the Great Wall built in our ancestors’ time to keep out the barbarians.  Rivers flow down from the mountains to irrigate farmlands surrounding busy market towns.  The goods travel east and west in lengthy caravans of horses and camels, are deposited in guarded warehouses and then moved onto wagons for further transport to the corners of the Empire.  There are Imperial soldiers in every town to protect the goods and the road from barbarian attack.  With the Mongol tribes on one side, and the Tibetans on the other, this has always been a debatable land.

There’s no problem with water or supplies here.  The problems are now to do with protecting our cargo against thieves who want to sneak into camp at night.  We camp outside the towns and no-one’s given leave to go inside the walls.  This causes much grumbling, but the Commander’s adamant. 

We’re heading for the Jiayuguan Pass, the Gate of Demons, and then this place called Border Town.  And from there, we’ll leave the trade road and strike out towards the Kingdom of Qiu.