Hao Meng’s caravan - Jinhai

 

Day follows day and the road stretches endlessly onwards.  Every morning I wake up thinking today I might see Shan, and every night I go to sleep disappointed.  There’s consolation in the cheerful company of Yao Lin and Lei Qing and the quiet support of Yao Yuhan and Madam Zhong.  Hao Meng joins us round the camp-fire for the evening meal now and somewhat to my surprise, Lai Xue has taken to turning up too, seeming to prefer our company to that of his own family.

We reach an undistinguished town with little to offer in the way of distraction.  On my way back from buying supplies, I pass the command post with all the wanted posters on the wall and can’t prevent myself from going over to take a look.  The poster with Shan’s name is there, but the parchment’s no longer sparkling white, it’s yellow and ragged round the edges. 

As usual, there are two guards at the entrance.  As I stop to look, one of them rushes off round the corner of the building with an agonized face.  His comrade looks at me and grins.  “Call of nature,” he says.

“Ah,” I reply, nodding.

He takes a step out to see what I’m looking at, then steps back.

“Ah, you’re out of luck there.  That guy’s dead.  Pick someone else.”

Dead?

Suddenly I’m icy cold.  My mouth moves with difficulty.  “D-dead?  When?  How?”

“There’s a family called Ding, big wheels, own a lot of land west up the road.  Well, seemingly they caught this Liao Shan guy and banged him up in their private prison.  Then they went off to Qiu City and while they were gone, there was a big fire on the estate.  Main house, warehouses, prison.   He was burnt to death, along with the Ding sister, the one that married the old king of Qiu.  And her boy and a woman she brought with her from Qiu Palace.  And the Dings are in deep trouble for nicking some of the old king’s treasure.  Troubles never come singly, eh?  Family’s ruined.”

He tells me these details with macabre relish, but I can hardly take them in.

“Burnt to death?” I manage to say.

“Well, the smoke would have got them first.”

My lips seem carved out of wood.  “When did this happen?” 

“Ah, weeks ago now.”

 “You should take the poster down,” I say, stupidly.

“Ah well, that’s not up to me.  Can’t take it down without an order.”

The man’s fellow-guard reappears, hastily adjusting his clothing, and they resume their watch.  I move away, hardly knowing where I’m going.  Burnt to death?  Weeks ago?  All this time I’ve been hoping and watching, he’s been dead?

The pain hits me so hard I can hardly walk.  I manage to get out of the town gate and then my legs start to give way.  There’s a tree with a thick trunk.  I collapse underneath it, my face in my hands, and try to take all this in.  I can barely think.  The Dings, a prison, a fire on the estate.  Shan dead, with Lady Ding and her son and a woman servant.  My brain’s a complete muddle, but there seems to be something important here.  I force myself to remember exactly what the guard said.

A woman from Qiu Palace?

I lift my head out of my hands.  A woman from Qiu Palace.  Surely there’s only one person that could be.  Han Ming!  Could it be?  My memory replays the scene at the filthy Ding watering-place:  a Ding voice barking orders, the carriage with the burnt-out torches, a woman’s hand taking a jug of water from one of the guards.  If that really was Han Ming, this story of a fire with such selective results doesn’t hang together.  I got to know Han Ming very well during those months in Qiu City.  I know how capable she is.  With her skills, there’s no way she’d have got herself burnt to death.  Could it have been planned to allow her and Lady Ding to vanish?  And if so, could Shan have escaped too?

Am I grasping at straws?

I may well be, but any hope, however thin, is preferable to the utter despair I was feeling moments ago.  I put my head back in my hands, my eyes squeezed shut, waiting for my heart to stop thumping.  He must have escaped.  Surely he escaped?

A concerned voice breaks into my thoughts. “Ah-Jing, are you all right?  What‘s the matter?”

It’s Yao Lin, his face a picture of worry.

With a huge effort, I pull myself together.  “I’m fine, just got depressed – missing my friends.  It comes over me sometimes.”

He sits down next to me and sighs.  “I know how you feel.  I get really down when I think about what things were like before Dad’s accident, when Mum was still alive.  We were so happy back then.  Why do we have to lose people we care about?”

“Fate.  But we meet people we care about too.”

“True,” he says cheering up, “We met you, after all.”

“And I met you and your Dad, and Ah-Qing and her mother.  So it’s not all bad.  But I’m going to get into real trouble with Madam Zhong if I don’t get these supplies back before supper.  Here, you take some of them.”

I’m on guard-duty for the first part of the night and there’s plenty of time for the dark thoughts to creep back.  The fire happened weeks ago.  If Shan escaped, where is he?  Could he have been hurt?  The awful doubts nag away.  And a huge question looms like Mount Tai at the back of my mind:  What would I do without him?  Since I left the Imperial Palace, he’s been a constant presence in my life.  Our quarters at the Black Snake in Qiu City were the only real home I’ve ever had.  My heart falters at the thought of having to face the rest of my life alone.

I sleep badly and the miserable thoughts continue, but every new day brings tribulations to distract me.  A huge row breaks out between Zhu Min and the Fu brothers, driven to the end of their rope by Zhu Yu’s insolence.  There’s a mighty shouting match which only ends when Hao Meng intervenes.  The Fu brothers reject his attempts to mediate and march off together in disgust.  Zhu Min stamps up the steps of his wagon and slams the door.  Hao Meng’s left alone, glowering.  The crowd disperses, commenting in low voices.

“If this goes on, the Fus will quit,” I say to Yao Lin. 

Two days later, we have an accident to deal with, the first major accident since I’ve joined the caravan. One of the Lai wagons hits a hole in the road, the back axle breaks, the wheel comes off and the wagon crashes down on one corner, jerking the horses almost off their feet.  Screams come from inside the wagon.  I urge Blaze up the line to find a crowd round the stricken vehicle.  Lai Xue’s father, a heavy, perpetually grumpy man, is shouting at the unfortunate servant who was driving.  The screams are continuing, though my ear detects a rather theatrical quality to them. 

“That’s my sister,” Lai Xue says, not sounding too bothered.  “I wouldn’t worry, she screams at everything.”

I dismount and start to go up the wagon steps, which are tilted perilously to one side.  Sir Lai stops yelling at the servant and rushes to stop me.

“Young Master, you can’t – my daughter – most unsuitable – “

“She may be hurt,” I say, rather more crisply than I intended.

A hand tugs at my sleeve and I hear Madam Zhong’s voice.  “Sir Lai, perhaps you’d allow me?  Young Master, would you give me a hand?”

With my help, she goes up the stairs and disappears into the wagon.  The screams rapidly diminish and finally stop.  We all breathe a sigh of relief.  At my elbow, Lai Xue says disapprovingly, “Xiaxia likes making a fuss.  There’s probably not a scratch on her.”

This turns out to be true.  Madam Zhong reappears, escorting a small girl so muffled in a huge cloak and hood that we can’t see her face.  Her father helps her down and Madam Zhong descends nimbly by herself.  A large young woman follows, obviously a maid.  I automatically extend my hand to help her and she blushes and simpers.

“Sir Lai,”  Madam Zhong says politely, “If I might suggest it, your daughter’s welcome to take shelter in my wagon temporarily.”

“Good idea,” Hao Meng says, emerging from under the wagon where he’s been investigating the damage, “This wagon’s not going anywhere.  We’ll have to send carpenters back from the next town.”

The harassed father accepts with a dismissive wave of his hand and Madam Zhong escorts the cloaked girl through the crowd.  Young Miss Lai gives a little shake of her head and the hood slips back to reveal a small, exquisitely pretty face looking round with unconcealed excitement and not a trace of tears.  The maid follows, glancing back with another simper.

“I think that big girl fancies you,” Yao Lin says, grinning and jabbing me with his elbow.

“I thought she was looking at you,” I reply and he chortles. 

“That’s Xiaxia’s maid,” Lai Xue says.  “She’s really dumb and she’s always dropping things but she was the only one who was willing to come with us.”

“Has your sister been in that wagon all this time?  How come we haven’t seen her?” I ask.

“She’s not allowed out.  Father wants to arrange a marriage for her in the capital and he doesn’t want her purity sullied.  That’s what he said anyway.”

“She must be bored out of her mind,” says Yao Lin.

“She hasn’t got much of a mind,” Lai Xue says disloyally, “She sits in there all day with Ah-Ting and they talk about clothes and make-up and read romantic stories.  And Ah-Ting tells her all the gossip about the caravan.”

“Quit lounging about, young’uns, and lend a hand,” orders Hao Meng, “We’ve got to get all the goods out of here and put them in Sir Lai’s other wagon.”

“There’s not enough space,” says Lai Xue, frowning. “Not for both Father and me and all the stuff.”

“Come and stay with us,” Yao Lin offers.  "You spend most of your time with us anyway."

Lai Xue’s eyes light up.  “Could I?  That would be great.”

Preoccupied with the salvage of his goods, Sir Lai raises no objection.  We spend an hour shifting goods to the other wagon, then abandoning the wreck, we head on to the next camping place.

Over the evening meal, I ask Hao Meng, “How far’s the next town?”

“Another day’s travel.”

“There might not be much left of that wagon in a day’s time.”

Hao Meng grunts.  “Then Sir Lai will have to buy a new one.  We’ll be in town for two or three days anyway.  It’s time for repair and refitting.”

“What is the next town?” Yao Lin asks.

“Three Springs.  Called, as you might guess, because it’s famous for its hot springs.  Among other things.”  He grins lecherously.

“What other things?” Lai Xue asks interestedly.

“Never you mind,” says Hao Meng.

Lei Qing comes out of her wagon and plops down by the fire, looking disapproving.

“What’s up?” Yao Lin asks.

“Young Miss Lai’s got my mother waiting on her, hand and foot.”

“My sister’s high-maintenance,” says Lai Xue, reaching for more food, “You should tell the maid to do it.”

“The maid’s thrown a fit and is lying down.”

“Yes, she does that,” says Lai Xue, munching.

“I’m sure your mother will be able to deal with it,” I say to Lei Qing.  “It’s only for a day or two.”

“Your mother’s a great cook,” Lai Xue says, totally unbothered by anyone else’s predicament.

“Young Master Lai,” Yao Lin says, “How come you’re so skinny when you eat twice as much as everyone else?”

“Dunno.  Always been like that.  Xiaxia hates me for it.”

I’ve promised Yao Yuhan a game of Go this evening, so after I’ve dealt with his legs, we get down to playing.  But I’m bone-weary and my mind’s elsewhere, so it’s not long before I’m losing.  I move a piece and hear a sudden hissing intake of breath.  Yao Yuhan and I both look round to see that Lai Xue has crept up close and is watching, his face squeezed between his two hands and a frown on his face.  He sees our expressions and hastily says, “Sorry.”

My next move’s a bad one too.  I tumble to defeat.  Yao Yuhan turns to Lai Xue.  “Young Master Lai, do you play?”

He nods eagerly.

I get up, smiling.  “Please excuse me, Sir Yao, I’m not feeling very sharp tonight.  Perhaps Young Master Lai would like to take my place?”

He doesn’t need asking twice.

I have guard-duty later, so I spread out my bedding and try to get a few hours’ sleep before I have to get up again.  Later I’m dimly aware of Yao Lin and Lai Xue bedding down.  We’re rather packed together, with me nearest the wagon door, which is slightly open.  Around midnight, a Fu brother comes to wake me and I go out shivering into the night.  I’m still exhausted.  My nagging mind goes round and round like an old horse tied to a water-wheel. 

Another weary day follows, enlivened, if you can call it that, by another major row, this time between the Fu brothers and Hao Meng.  A little later, the rumour goes round that the Fu brothers are going to quit as soon as we get to Three Springs.  They’ve had enough of the meagre pay and the constant hassle.  Hao Meng’s growling like an old bear, because now he has to hire more men. 

Three Springs turns out to be a sizeable town, celebrated not only for its hot springs, but also for the number of restaurants and pleasure-houses which have grown up over the years.  The town’s camping area is located some distance from the city walls and is guarded, which means that we’ll all get a good night’s sleep for the next two or three days.  However it soon becomes clear that the men of the caravan have no intention of getting a good night’s sleep.  Instead, they ride off in a body to sample the town’s attractions.

“They’ll all come back stinking of cheap wine and fancy women,” says Madam Zhu, who has walked over to our camp-fire for the sole purpose, it seems, of complaining.  “If they can still stay on their horses, that is,” she adds bitterly.  She accepts a bowl of soup from Madam Zhong’s sympathetic hand and stares at Yao Lin, Lai Xue and me.  “You’re not going, then, Young Masters?”

“I haven’t had a full night’s sleep for weeks,” I say, “I haven’t the energy to lift a cup of wine.”

“And I’m too young,” Yao Lin says, a touch defensively.

“That hasn’t stopped the other Young Masters,” Madam Zhu says, with an edge to her voice.

“My Dad wouldn’t like it,” Yao Lin says firmly.

“And I’ve promised to play chess with Sir Yao,” says Lai Xue.

“Hmmm.”  Madam Zhu takes a sip of soup and turns her barbs elsewhere.  “How are you getting on with Sir Lai’s little flower, Ah-Chan?”

Madam Zhong smiles, but says nothing.  Lei Qing looks as if she’d like to say something, but bites it back.  Madam Zhu glances at her.

“When are you going to get out of those ridiculous clothes, Ah-Qing?  You’re a girl, you know.  You can’t get round it.”

“I can’t drive a wagon and look after horses if I’m wearing skirts,” Lei Qing says.  “Maybe when we get to the capital, I’ll change back.  Maybe not.”

“You’ll never get married if you carry on like that,” Madam Zhu says, exasperated.

“That’s fine with me,” Lei Qing retorts.  “Seeing how all the married men here are behaving.”

Madam Zhu’s soup goes down the wrong way and she coughs and splutters.  Madam Zhong puts a gentle hand on her arm.

“Don’t be upset, Ah-Shi.  I know it’s difficult, but bear with it.”

“There’s not much choice, is there?’ Madam Zhu says in the same bitter tone.  “I should be used to it by now.”

She gets up and walks off, leaving us all feeling a little awkward.

“Ah-Qing,” says Madam Zhong, “That wasn’t kind.  Ah-Shi spoke like that because she’s hurting.  Go and apologize.”

Ah-Qing gets up without a word and runs after Madam Zhu.  She comes back a few moments later and sits down again.

“It’s all right,” she says.  “But why do men behave like that?”

“Because they can,” says Madam Zhong.

Three Springs has no curfew and the town gates stay open till midnight to allow visitors more time to take their pleasure.  I’m vaguely aware of loud voices and laughter some time in the middle of the night when the errant husbands and sons come back.  But when I wake in the morning, I feel fresher than I have for some while.  Lai Xue’s still asleep, his mouth open.  He sleeps like a starfish, which isn’t very convenient given our crowded circumstances.  Yao Lin’s already up and the sun’s well risen.  As I come to the fire, Yao Lin says, “You’ll never guess what happened last night?”

“The husbands all came back with concubines?”

He chuckles.  “No.  Lai Xue beat Dad.”

“What?”

“He beat Dad.  Turns out he’s some kind of genius at Go.”

“Lai Xue?  How did your Dad take it?”

“He was delighted.  He gets bored beating us all the time.”

Hao Meng sees me and comes over.  “Young Master Zhao, I need you to go into town and talk to the carpenters on this list.  Tell them to come by tomorrow afternoon and we’ll talk about repairs.  The addresses are all there – they’re all in the same street.  You can have the rest of the day off.”

“Understood,” I say, taking the list.  “Have the Fu brothers gone?”

“Yep.  Bastards have already got new jobs on a caravan going the other way.  I’ll have to start hiring again.  But first I’m going to get drunk and get laid.  This lot can look after themselves for a day.”

“They won’t be any trouble,” Yao Lin says, “Not till this evening anyway.  They’ve all got massive hangovers.”