SEVEN
We completed the journey to P’ing-Yang-Fu in six more arduous days of travelling. Gurbesu and I could have got there in five, but the other riders, and Lin in his carriage, held us back. Alberoni complained of a persistent back ache, though I think he meant some spot lower than that. He certainly was a pain in the arse himself. The closer we got to our destination the more whining he got about it. The daily conversation went something like this.
‘Will we be there soon?’
‘I have told you. It is six/five/four more days yet…’
Taduesz was unusually silent, and just sat uncomplaining on his pony as it jogged along. Lin was his serene self, his nighttime encounter with Natural Elegance in T’ai-Yuan-Fu — if such it was — not being mentioned by me. But finally we crested a rise in the fertile meadowlands we had been passing through, and the city came into view. Beyond it rose the grey outline of far distant mountains, but Pianfu, as Lin called it, lay on a flat plain. From where we stood, I could see the grid-like pattern of streets and thoroughfares. The weather was cold but still dry, so a cloud of dust hung over the city. The curve of red-tiled roofs, like waves in a sea of ochre stretched for many li. The Chinee measure of distance was always unclear to me, but I reckoned on three li to make a league or a mile roughly. Let’s just say that as I looked over the plain, I could barely see the other side of Pianfu.
We descended the hill and rode into the outskirts. Soon we were on a main thoroughfare, which must have been forty paces wide and ran through the heart of the city. Every half mile or so this broad road opened out into a square, around which stood large stone buildings. To my eye they looked like warehouses, and indeed most of the squares we passed through had a market of some sort. One sold game, and I could see stalls plentifully supplied with stags, harts, hares, and rabbits, and all sorts of fowl such as pheasants, francolins, quails and ducks and geese. Another square had all sorts of vegetables and fruits, strange to my eye, though I did recognize pears and peaches, and bags of raisins. The third square had stately buildings on all sides, but was quieter than the others. I thought it unusual, and trotted beside Lin’s carriage to ask why. He gave me a dark look.
‘If you come here after dark, you will see more activity.’
Stupidly, I still didn’t know what the business of the square could have been.
‘After dark?’
‘These apartments you see are the residences of women of the town. In the evening you will see them parading attired in great magnificence, and attended by many handmaidens. It is said they are highly accomplished in the use of endearments and caresses to suit every sort of person. I am told some foreigners call it the Square of Heaven.’
I grinned, and cast a look around to see if any of the ‘women of the town’ as Lin euphemistically referred to them had risen from their beds. All windows were shuttered, however. Lin took the opportunity to remind me of our purpose here.
‘You, of course, will be too busy to find your way here again.’
As we passed through the centre of this vast city, curious eyes turned our way just as in T’ai-Yuan-Fu. My beard was quite luxuriant now, and I could not have looked more like the images of the demon Zhong Kui. A few of the people in the garb of labourer or peasant made a sign with their fingers, probably to ward off the evil emanating from my presence. The more prosperous, and so less superstitious, reserved their discreet glances for Lin Chu-Tsai. They could see our little procession heralded the arrival of an important official. Once again he was in his official court robes, and it was obvious he was a man of consequence. As if to further emphasize his importance, Lin clicked his fingers at a passing man. His fine embroidered robe suggested he was a prosperous merchant, but he still hurried over to Lin’s carriage and bowed low.
‘What does your honour wish to know?’
‘Tell me where the house of the prefect is located. This little town stinks, and I would prefer not to dally in it too long.’
I stared with astonishment at Lin. His peremptory tone and denigrating words were quite unlike the man; especially as the city was so startling in all its aspects. But he ignored my querulous look, and fixed the other Chinee with his cool gaze. The man blushed.
‘I am sorry our hamlet displeases you, your honour. You are correct though; the place smells of unwashed bodies and old meat. But what can poor people like us do? I am sure the prefect will ensure your stay is as pleasant and as brief as possible.’
He raised an arm, covered down to the fingertips in a silken sleeve, and pointed in the direction we were already travelling.
‘The prefect’s house is on the southern edge of town, close to the river. It is a fine house with a red tiled and prettily gabled roof. You cannot miss it.’
Lin waved a desultory hand, also hidden in his opulent sleeve, and the humiliated merchant scurried away. Po Ku urged the carriage horse on, and we proceeded along the wide but bustling avenue. I rode my horse close up beside Lin’s carriage again, and glanced his way.
‘I have never heard you be so authoritarian, Chu-Tsai. It was quite a revelation.’
I could see a blush forming on Lin’s neck, and he sighed.
‘You have only seen me in either the summer or winter capital until now. There is no need to assert my authority where I am already known. If I was not respected for my very position at the court of Kubilai, I would not be able to do my job. This may be a big city, but it is still in the provinces — the back of beyond as far as such high officials as we are concerned. And if I do not make myself known immediately as someone who will not stand any nonsense, I might as well sneak back north. Or kill myself.’
He nodded back down the avenue to where the merchant was already in a huddle with several other well- dressed individuals. They were staring in our direction.
‘The story is already spreading that someone of importance is in town, and that he is not impressed by the show of wealth that is so evident to the locals. I will be well respected, and many will try to find out about me and my entourage. It should help our enquiries, don’t you think?’
I laughed at Lin’s ingenuity, and pulled a ferocious face.
‘Especially if the rumour includes the fact that Zhong Kui is on their tail.’
We made our way through the suburbs of Pianfu, and in the final square we passed on the way a large building with a familiar smell to it. I spurred my horse towards a set of large doors that stood partially open. Inside I could see stacks of wooden barrels, and at the back of the shed large copper urns. The smell was unmistakeably that of a winery. I licked my lips, and urged the horse back level with Lin’s carriage.
‘Perhaps you can arrange for the winery we just passed to provide some of its produce to the great and important official from Tatu.’
Lin gave me a hard look.
‘You should not risk getting drunk before you have solved this case. We require our wits about us. Besides, you do yourself a disservice to imagine only I can command the respect of the local dignitaries. Me a mere human and all. You are the great and mysterious demon appointed by Kubilai as his Investigator of Crimes. They will hold you in awe and fear. Your paizah will be enough to see you drowned in free wine.’
He was referring to the small gold tablet that both he and I held as a badge of authority from the Great Khan. I touched the front of my jacket, and felt the tablet nestling inside it. It was about fifteen inches long and five fingers wide, with a hole at the top end. Mine and Lin’s had a lion’s head stamped on it, which made us more important than a commander of the Mongol army, but less so than one of Kubilai’s great barons. Their paizah had a gerfalcon on it. All tablets were printed with an inscription which read as follows — ‘ By the strength of the great God, and of the great grace which He hath accorded to our Emperor, may the name of the Khan be blessed; and let all such as will not obey him be slain and be destroyed.’ It was a very useful weapon in an empire ruled by bureaucracy. I turned the head of my horse back towards the winery, and told Lin I would find the prefect’s house on my own.
When I did find the house, I could see why Li Wen-Tao chose to live where he did. The noise and bustle of the city — the cries of the pedlars and shopkeepers, the curses of the draymen and porters as they barged their way past fortune-tellers, scholars and monks blocking their way, and the warning call of the men bearing ladies in
