Jinhai

 

At daybreak next morning, the first thing I do is slip out of the wagon and check on Shan, wrapped in his quilts by the fire.  He’s still asleep, a frown between his brows.   That frown’s becoming permanent.

For a moment, I wish we were back in our house in Qiu City, with the day’s work to look forward to and the knowledge that we’d come back to one another in the evening, rather than out here in the middle of nowhere with miles to go and no certainty of safety anywhere.  But there’s no use thinking about it. 

It’s a day like all the others and is succeeded by several more all alike.  We hear that a caravan’s been attacked by bandits further along the road.  Hao Meng’s jumpy.  Shan’s soon back to full strength and the efficiency of the caravan ratchets up several notches. 

Zhu Yu’s still confined to his wagon.  Shan, Yao Yuhan and I aren’t at all convinced that this is the best way to handle him, feeling that he’s likely to go crazy locked up all day for months.  But Hao Meng refuses to listen to our suggestion that the boy be freed under certain conditions, and he’s the ultimate authority.

The fact that I took care of Shan while he was wounded means that most people seem to find it quite natural that a closer relationship has developed between us.  Nobody’s bothered that we’re spending more time together, sitting next to one another at supper round the camp-fire.  Only sometimes I catch Hao Meng glancing at us with a calculating look in his eye.  He’s no fool and he has eyes and ears all up and down the road.  Who knows what he’s heard and deduced?  But he says nothing.

In fact, I learn something about Hao Meng that I expect he’d rather I didn’t know.  One evening, we’re once again camped beside a small wood.  I’m seeing to the horses when I observe Madam Zhu coming out of the woods, looking a little pink.  I assume she’s gone in there for a natural purpose and avert my eyes in order to save her embarrassment.  But a minute or two later, Hao Meng emerges from the same place, adjusting his clothing slightly.  He doesn’t see me and proceeds towards the wagons, whistling quietly to himself.

Hao Meng and Madam Zhu?

“It wouldn’t surprise me at all,” Shan says, when I tell him, “She’s much younger than her husband and he’s probably as indecisive in bed as he is out of it.”

“So all that bickering’s just a cover-up,” I say wonderingly.  “Who’d have thought it?”

He laughs at my expression.  “Innocent,” he says mockingly. 

“It’s reckless.  If Zhu Min finds out, he could divorce her and disown the children.”

“He’d be just as likely to turn a blind eye.  In any case, they’re adults.  We can’t interfere.”

“And if Zhu Yu were to find out……” I say, pursuing my train of thought.

“He won’t.  He’s locked up, remember.”  He reaches out and caresses the back of my neck.  My whole body shivers.  I think about how thick those woods are.

“When we get to the next town,” Shan says softly, “We’re going to have a night off in the best inn we can find.”

I’m thinking about this next day as I ride along, lulled by the uneventfulness of the past week, when I’m jerked out of my day-dreaming by alarmed yells from up ahead.  The caravan lurches awkwardly to a halt.  I stand up in the stirrups to get a better view and see that a wagon has pulled out of the line and is heading at full gallop up the road.  It’s Zhu Yu’s wagon, recognizable by its ornate decoration.  My first thought is that the horses have taken fright and bolted.  My second thought’s much more alarming.  What if Zhu Yu’s making a break for it?  Almost without thinking, I urge Blaze into a gallop.  Out of my left eye I see Shan galloping on Swift.  We overtake Hao Meng, who’s leading the caravan today.  It’s clear from his face that he hasn’t grasped what’s happening.

Shan and I are both riding powerful horses and the wagon can’t compete in speed.  We start to overtake, one on each side.  Perhaps sensing this, Zhu Yu veers violently to the left off the road and sends the wagon bouncing full tilt over the uneven ground.  He’s mad, I think.  The wagon won’t stand up to that.

Shan has got a little ahead of me and is almost level with the front of the wagon.  Suddenly he yells out – I don’t catch the words but I hear the urgent warning in his voice.  At the same moment, I see Swift lift into the air in a tremendous leap.  The wagon inexplicably takes a nosedive into the ground, horses and all, almost disappearing from sight.  Blaze gathers himself under me and surges into the air for what seems like minutes, before landing cleanly on the other side of what I now realize is a deep wide cut in the ground which extends as far as the eye can see in both directions.  As we make the leap, I hear the fearful sound of wood crashing and see Zhu Yu thrown into the air.  He lands head-first on the ground and rebounds in a dreadful boneless way which tells me he’s been killed outright.

Pulling Blaze to a halt, horrified, I see that Shan has leapt off Swift’s back and is scrambling down into the ditch to deal with the horses, which are struggling and screaming in terror.  I slide down from the saddle and quickly check Zhu Yu.  His neck’s broken.  I rush to the ditch.  One look tells me the horses are too injured to survive.  Shan has his sword out.  He yells, “Don’t come down.” 

A few moments later and the horses are silent and still.  The wagon’s a broken mess, the contents scattered around, chests open and spilling out their treasures on the ground.  The pole has snapped clean off.

His face grim, Shan wipes and sheathes his sword.  Then suddenly he raises his head and says, “Listen.”

I hear it at almost the same time:  yelling and the clash of weapons.

“The wagons,” Shan says.

He pulls himself out of the ditch by clutching at the long grass that’s growing on the sides, and swings onto Swift’s back to get a better look.  I scramble back into the saddle as well and come to his side.  From the higher viewpoint, we can see that in the distance, men are swarming round the wagons.

“Bandits,” says Shan.  He sounds very calm.  “Listen.  We’re going to jump the horses back over and counter-attack.  Bows and arrows.  When we get there, you go to the right and I’ll go to the left.  Keep moving fast round the wagons and keep shooting.  Understand?”

“Yes,” I say, my mouth dry.

“You’ve practised this,” he says.  “You’ll be fine.”  He reaches over, pulls me to him and hugs me.  Then he says, “Let’s go and nail ‘em.”

If my mouth’s dry, it’s not from fear but from excitement.  I’ve never fought alongside Shan before.  Side by side, we turn the horses and leap back across the ditch.  As we ride towards the wagons, we unship our bows and start shooting.  I veer to the right, he to the left.  The attackers aren’t expecting this.  They’re not skilled fighters, their clothes are ragged, they’re expecting the caravans to be unprotected, slow and full of frightened civilians.  They have no defence against mounted archers.  All the same, I find that shooting at real people isn’t quite the same as shooting at targets.  I don’t want to hit anybody from our side.  As I start my second round, I see bodies on the ground.  The shouts of the attackers have turned to shouts of panic.  Some of them break away and make a run for it.  Their horses are hidden in the ditch.  It gives them cover as they pound away.  Exhilarated, I pull Blaze to a halt and Shan reins in by my side.  “Well done,’ he says, grasping my shoulder.  “Well done.”

We dismount, to be greeted by Hao Meng brandishing a sword with blood on the blade.  “By the Gods, that was a pleasure to watch,” he roars.  “That’ll teach those rats a lesson.”

There are eight bandits lying dead around the wagons.  Our people are all alive, though not all have escaped harm.  One of the backsides has a nasty cut on the leg and the Fang boy has somehow got himself knocked out.  Others have assorted cuts and bruises.  Luckily, the Yaos are fine.  Yao Lin’s full of excitement.  “I had a go at someone.  He tried to get into the wagon and I hit him with the sword and he fell out again.  Are they all dead?”

“We got some of them, but some got away.  They had horses nearby.”

“What about that wagon?  Was it Zhu Yu driving?  What happened?”

“There was an accident,” I say, remembering.  My exhilaration fades.  “Don’t spread it around, but Zhu Yu’s dead.  We have to tell his family.”

Yao Lin’s face is shocked.  Shan’s speaking to Hao Meng in a low voice and I hear Hao Meng swear.  He turns away and heads towards the Zhu wagon, while Shan starts issuing orders and people start scurrying about.  We move the bandits’ bodies off the road into the ditch.  I go round and collect up the arrows that have missed their mark.  Hao Meng comes back, looking grim.

We’re ordered to move up the road and stop near the site of the accident.  All the able-bodied men are mustered to help with the salvage operation.  Shan orders me to go from wagon to wagon with Madam Zhong to tend to the wounded.  We see to the man with the slashed leg, treat the various minor injuries and go to the Fang wagon where Fang Tian’s regained consciousness.  He’s looking very poorly.  He grabs my sleeve and says, “Is it true?  They’re all saying Ah-Yu’s been killed.  Is it true?”

“Yes, I’m afraid it is.  He was thrown from the wagon and broke his neck.”

To my amazement, he starts to cry, which causes consternation among the women of the family who are gathered round.  I leave them to their clucking and consoling and go to the Yao wagon, where Yao Yuhan’s looking very anxious.

“Is it true?” he asks, echoing Fang Tian.  “The boy’s dead?”

“Thrown from the wagon.  Killed outright.”

“Oh, dear Gods.  His poor father.  I can imagine what he must be feeling.”

“Yes, it’ll be a severe blow.  But I came to see if you were all right.”

“Yes, thank you, no harm done.  I hear you and Sir Zhan fought them off.”

“Everyone fought them off.”

“And the Zhu wagon?”

“A total write-off.  They’re trying to salvage what they can.  There was a ditch in the way.  Zhu Yu didn’t see it.  Sir Zhan and I only just saw it in time.”

He shakes his head sadly.  “History repeats itself,” he says.  “A tragedy.”

I climb out of the wagon to see two men carrying Zhu Yu’s body towards the caravan on a makeshift stretcher.  They take it to the Zhu wagon.  I hurry to the site of the accident.  The dead horses are being hauled aside by teams of men.  Others are gathering up the scattered goods, putting them in sacks and hoisting them out of the ditch with ropes.  This part of the operation is being overseen by Madam Zhu, her face grim.  All the men in the caravan are there except Yao Yuhan and Zhu Min, servants and masters alike. 

I hear swearing and see three men trying to lever up the heavy base of the wagon.  They’re sweating and struggling and not getting anywhere.  A voice behind me says, “The lever’s in the wrong place.”

It’s Lai Xue.  The frustrated men step back and glare at him.  But a few paces away, Shan’s head turns.  “Where should it be?” he asks, coming over.

Lai Xue considers.  “About this far to the left,” he says, indicating with his hands.

“Try it,” Shan says to the men.  Grumbling under their breath, they reposition the lever, spit in their hands and try again.  The wagon-base lifts a fraction.  Surprised, the men heave it up far enough to make sure there are no goods to salvage underneath, then drop it again.  A few wary looks are cast at Lai Xue as they move off.

“How did you know?” Shan asks Lai Xue, who shuffles his feet embarrassedly, looking at the ground.

“Dunno.  I just did.”

“Well done.”

Lai Xue looks up, turns a little pink and grins.

As darkness falls, Hao Meng calls a halt to operations and we all return to the wagons where the women have a meal waiting for us.  We’re tired and dirty.  Shan goes from camp-fire to camp-fire, as he did in the army, encouraging and thanking all the helpers.  Sitting gratefully down next to Yao Lin, I accept a bowl of food from Madam Zhong.  Hao Meng’s watching Shan closely.

“He was an officer, right?” he says, glancing at me, “A high rank.  Cavalry troop."

Madam Zhong looks up.  “What makes you think so, Sir Hao?”

“The habit of command.  Can’t mistake it.  And that skill at mounted archery - you only see that in crack cavalry troops.   What do you think, Young Master Zhao?”

“Um - couldn’t say.  He doesn’t give much away.”

“And there was I thinking you and he had gotten close.”

I feel myself reddening.  But unexpectedly Madam Zhong comes to my rescue.  “Perhaps he’s happier not talking about his past.”

Hao Meng says, “Hmm.”

“Well, I think you were both awesome,” Yao Lin holds his bowl out for seconds.  A  moment later, Shan drops down beside me and says to Hao Meng, “We’d better post guards.  I doubt if the bandits will come back, but it’s best to be careful.”  He takes a bowl of food from Madam Zhong with a smile and a word of thanks.

“Agreed,” says Hao Meng.  “You two can take first watch, then it’ll be the backsides, and I’ll take the last watch – I’ll have to find someone to chum me.”

“I’ll do it” says Yao Lin eagerly.

“Sure?”

Yao Lin nods.

“You’re on,” says Hao Meng.  “I’ll come and wake you up.”

A four-hour watch at the end of a long hard day is no picnic, but first watch isn’t so bad because you can be sure of several hours’ unbroken sleep.  After the meal, Madam Zhong moves quietly to the Zhu wagon where Zhu Min and his wife are sitting beside the body of their son.  Lei Qing and Yao Lin clear up the remains of the meal.  Lai Xue and Little Huang disappear into the Yao wagon.  Shan and I sit by the fire as the caravan prepares for sleep.  Silence falls, apart from the crackling of the flames.

“Tired?” he asks softly.

“Exhausted.  What was all that with Lai Xue earlier?”

“He has an unusual mind.”

“I sometimes wonder if he was dropped on his head as a baby.  By the way, Hao Meng was speculating about you.  Cavalry officer, he said.  High rank.”

“He’s astute.  And after that business in the last town……  “

I’m suddenly alarmed.  “”Do you think he knows who you are?”

“He may have suspicions.  But I doubt if he’ll say anything now.”

“He also remarked on how close we’d become.”

Shan laughs.  “Good.  That means nobody’ll think it strange if I put my arm round you.”

His arm comes round my waist and draws me to him.  With a sigh, I rest my head against his shoulder.  We watch the fire together.