‘The scribbler of plays?’
A clear voice rang out from behind me, speaking in the Mongol tongue for my benefit.
‘I may be a second-class citizen in Kubilai’s empire, occupied in the lowliest of trades. But I would like to believe that I am the best at what I do, sir, and more than a scribbler.’
I turned round to look at the interloper. In the doorway stood a tall, well-built young man, probably in his twenties. He was clean shaven, and his hair was cut short, unlike Lin’s and those of his class who wore a long queue hanging down their back. He affected the clothes of a peasant, wearing brown homespun with a green pattern to it. But I could see that the motif was woven in the cloth, not stencilled as a common man’s would be. Under the coarse outer garment the edge of a silk shirt poked out. He also wore the leather boots of a scholar. He noticed the direction of my gaze, and shuffled his feet.
‘I am a mere clerk in the Office of the Grand Physician. And, it seems, a scribbler of plays in my spare time.’
He may have thought to embarrass me by throwing my words describing him back at me. But it took more than that to cause me to blush. I smiled blandly and relaxed back on my cushions. There was an awkward pause until Lin waved his arm, indicating that Guan should come in. But the youth stood resolutely at the door.
‘I will not disturb your august personages more than is necessary. I merely came as you bid me to announce myself and my intentions. I acted as scribe and fellow petitioner to Geng Wenbo.’ A sardonic grin flitted across his lips. ‘His own skills at writing and composing a suitably grovelling letter to Kubilai were limited. I was in the town when the case came before the prefect, and I saw the great injustice that was taking place. I could not stand back and let it happen.’
Lin broke into what was obviously a carefully considered speech.
‘And you no doubt saw the situation would enhance your reputation, and would make an excellent kung-an play.’
Guan, to his credit, was not put off by Lin’s deliberately rude interruption. A quiet smile played across his face.
‘Indeed, Master Lin. You have me there. A great play for sure, that will stand as a beacon for the cause of justice for years to come.’ He looked me in the eye. ‘You believe in justice, do you not?’
I surprised myself with a reply that sounded deeply philosophical.
‘Truth and justice are ephemeral creatures that can have different skins at different times, like the chameleon lizard I have seen sailors bring back from lands beyond the sea.’
Guan was nonplussed by my reply, and his prepared presentation was broken. He recovered himself enough to say that he would see us again in P’ing-Yang-Fu, and then bowed out in to the night. Lin laughed breathily, and patted me on the back.
‘That was a very thoughtful retort of yours. And the simile was excellent. I have seen such a lizard, and the changing of their skin colour is remarkable.’
I blushed at the compliment and confessed the truth.
‘I borrowed the idea from you, Chu-Tsai, as well you know. Though I confess the imagery was my own. I have been saving it up for just such a moment.’
Just as I finished speaking, I was conscious of another figure standing in the doorway. The well-built Guan had not returned, however, because framed by the moonlight, I could tell this was Natural Elegance. Her hips were slightly tilted and her shape curvy. My mouth went dry. Then she stepped into the room, and the light from one of the lamps fell on the figure’s face. I gasped in shock. The luscious Empress Tu, the sweet Yu-Niang from the play, the lubricious Natural Elegance was a youth. A pretty, willowy youth, but a youth nevertheless. I turned to Lin and scowled.
‘You knew.’
Lin had a big grin plastered on his face.
‘Forgive me for deceiving you. It was so amusing seeing how you lusted for Tien-jan, when I knew all along that she was a he.’ Suddenly his tone became severe. ‘Besides, you should not have forsaken Gurbesu for a passing… amusement.’
For once I had to agree with him. Gurbesu’s charms were suddenly all the more attractive, when compared to those of young Tien-jan. I silently thanked the God that I was not sure I truly believed in for saving me from a grievous error, and beat a retreat from Lin’s rooms.
Gurbesu was surprised but pleased when I burst into our room a few moments later.
‘You are earlier than I thought, sweetheart.’ She gave me a piercing look that I feared meant she had seen right through my subterfuge. ‘I imagined you would be hours with Lin and his visitor, and then looking over all the documents in that case.’
I brazened it out and shrugged nonchalantly, as though we had solved the problem easily.
‘It was not such a difficult matter, after all. And our interview with the playwright Guan, who drafted the petition, was brief. It would seem he is more interested in making a name for himself than chasing justice for Jianxu. Though like many young men he burns with the idea he sees injustice everywhere. He hails from that part of Cathay where fifty years ago the leaders went quickly over to the Mongol side to save their skins. They were called the Black Army according to Lin, and escaped relatively unscathed from the invasion. Maybe Guan feels guilty about his ancestry. Who knows?’
I unfastened my Mongol jacket and eased down on the low bed, reaching out to Gurbesu’s hips.
‘So now we have the whole evening to ourselves.’
As I felt the warmth of Gurbesu’s thigh, I shuddered at the thought of touching Natural Elegance, and finding a male member between ‘her’ legs. I wiped the image from my mind, but as I grabbed her, Gurbesu’s face fell.
‘Oh I am sorry, dear. I thought, when you said that you would be hours that I would invite Tadeusz and the friar to our room. We are going to have a little supper. You are welcome to join us, naturally.’
Before I could protest, the door suddenly opened, and the aforesaid pair poked their heads in. Alberoni smiled broadly.
‘Ah, Niccolo, you are here. I wanted to ask you about something before we got to our destination.’
I think I must have replied a little sulkily, because Alberoni gave me a strange look, and shook his head. Gurbesu, noticing the awkwardness, started bustling around, producing smoked meat and fresh fruit from somewhere. And a stone flagon of Chinee rice wine. Tadeusz was already laying on the table some dried fruit he had brought with him. He cast a glance at me too, before asking me about the details of the case.
‘Will it be resolved easily, do you think?’
I shrugged. It seemed to be the only communication I was capable of at the moment. As we settled down together at the table, I looked out of the window and across the courtyard. In Lin’s rooms I saw a shadowy figure embracing Lin tightly. Before the lamp in the room was extinguished, I felt sure the figure looked willowy and elegant. I returned my attention to the others in my room, but not before Tadeusz also had seen what I was looking at. I tried to concentrate on the matter in hand.
‘Let’s see what we do know.’
Tadeusz had placed an oil lamp in the centre of the table, and its flame cast a circle of light in which we all sat. To my right sat Gurbesu, who was biting into a peach. I watched as the juice ran down her chin. She smiled and wiped it away with delicate fingers. She then waved them in the air.
‘Don’t look at me for enlightenment. You have told me nothing so far. I feel that I am just along for the ride.’
I brushed aside her self-deprecating words. I knew how useful she would be when it came to talking to the main suspect — and presumed perpetrator — Jianxu. She could use her wiles on a man to get him to talk, but more importantly was able to extract the innermost thoughts from another woman. And truths often emerged from such a meeting of minds that would have been held back from me or the other men. I reckoned even Alberoni would benefit from her powers of truth-finding in his confessional. The friar was the next round the table, and I raised a questioning eyebrow towards him. He clasped his hands together.
‘I did manage to talk to Lin on our way here. I understand that the poor girl confessed to the crime. What more is there to say?’
I gave a harsh and braying laugh.
‘Do you know how they obtain a confession here? They use a bastinado, beating the soles of the person’s feet until they cannot stand the pain any more. Then they confess.’
