At the top of the heap sat the small number of people who could call themselves Mongols. I made the mistake of referring to them as Tartars when I first arrived in Xanadu, because this was the name the western world used. Perhaps as a reminder that they were once thought of as the Hounds of Hell — or Tartarus. I was soon told that the actual Tartar tribe was one that Kubilai’s grandfather, Chinghis, had slaughtered for the treacherous murder of his own father. So I quickly learned that it was not Tartars, but Mongols who rule the world in these parts. They were not many in number, but they were the princes and the overlords of everyone else in the empire. Below them, and trusted to run things for their masters, were the Se-mu Jen — non-Chinee foreigners many of whom were Turks and other Easterners. Coming third in the heap were the Han Jen like Lin, who were Chinees from the conquered North of that vast land of Cathay. Finally, beyond all contempt at the bottom were the Nan Jen — Chinees from the as-yet unconquered South. Lin’s fate was to be the clerk to a drunken Turk who found it difficult even to put his mark on the bottom of the documents Lin wrote for him without smudging it. So the truth was Lin Chu-Tsai was de facto the embodiment of justice in the Mongol Empire. And now I was his right-hand man. It’s a strange world, isn’t it?
When we entered the summer house, Lin was not seated at his table with its usual stacks of papers, but was standing looking out the window at Jade Island. When we entered, he turned round abruptly. Chu-Tsai was a man of average build with a chubby face that nevertheless was quite pallid due to the necessity of his indoor existence. His jet black hair was pulled back tightly from his face, and hung in a plaited queue down his back. This was still shorter than usual, due to a fire some time earlier that had robbed him of most of his hair. His small hands and slender fingers, normally so graceful, were now clasped tightly round a paper scroll. His tendency to overweight was probably due to the fact that as a child his parents had had him castrated. The hope had been that, as a eunuch, he would stand a greater chance of progressing at the emperor’s court to a position of power. The irony was that the Mongol overlords who grabbed the throne of China in his youth cared little for such Chinee niceties. In the end Lin had made his way by use of his intellect and his not inconsiderable sharp wits, and not because he had no balls. In fact, I would say he had balls a-plenty. Just not between his legs any more. He was a man of decisiveness and a bold one too. Today, he looked nervous and unsure of himself.
‘Master Nick. At last.’
I began to explain what had taken us so long. That is, I lied about what had taken so long, not wishing him to know I had preferred to romp with Gurbesu rather than answer his call immediately. But, as I formed my excuses, he held his slender hand up.
‘That is of no importance now. This is.’
He waved aloft the paper that he held in his other hand. Behind me, Gurbesu sighed and slumped down on to one of the cushions that were arranged around the low table. I glanced down, and watched as she peeled the dirty socks off her feet. Lin looked on disapprovingly at the sight of her bare feet, then took my arm and guided me to the other side of the room. We looked out over the lake towards Jade Island, as he explained the bind he was in. That we were both in. On the surface, it appeared to be a straightforward investigation of a murder case. But for Lin it had darker undertones.
‘You see, Master Nick, Ko has no formal reason to be acting for the Great Khan in a simple case of murder. He suggests it is a delicate case concerning a local official who may be corrupt, and that is why he has intervened. He further goes on to say that it requires my attention in particular. That the Great Khan specifically asked for me to go to P’ing-Yang-Fu — ’ he gave the town its formal name — ‘and that you should come with me.’
I shrugged my shoulders, not seeing what the problem was. I was more concerned about the mountain about to land on me that was Mongotai, actually. If we had a reason to leave Khan-balik, I was more than happy to comply.
‘Then let’s go.’
Lin looked at me as though I were a little child who did not understand the world. He could be very obtuse and irritating at times, but I had learned to listen to him. He had been brought up in the convoluted world that made up Cathay, and could see currents under the muddy waters that were invisible to me.
‘What’s the problem?’
A look of distress crossed Lin’s face. He didn’t like openly pointing out my failings, as it offended his sense of politeness. And to have to explain would show up my ignorance. So he carefully phrased his reply.
‘The request — which in essence is a command that has its origin with Kubilai — has come through the agency of Ko Su-Tsung. So it is really Ko who has caused the request to land on my doorstep. The apparent purpose is to investigate the ruling of a death sentence made by a prefect on a Chinee woman, who is now languishing in gaol under threat of execution. The prefect acts for his Mongol overlord in P’ing-Yang-Fu, which by the way is a journey of at least two weeks from here, so we have little time. The problem is that we will be in effect arbitrating between a lowly Han Jen woman and a Mongol governor of high status.’
‘If she’s guilty, what’s the problem? We can confirm the verdict and get on our way.’
I could see Lin was distressed by my cavalier approach. He pressed on with his insight into Chinee politics, and the serpentine coils of the civil service that ran Kubilai’s affairs.
‘If she were guilty, there would be no point in us being there. Therefore I assume she must be innocent, or Ko would not want us to go. Oh, it will suit him that we are in some forsaken backwater of the Khan’s empire, leaving him free to plot his way back into favour at our expense. But if it were only that, I would not be worried too much. No, I am certain we are being set up to be in an impossible position. We will find her innocent, and have either to suppress the truth, which Ko will use against us, or judge in her favour and embarrass a highly placed Mongol official. We can’t win, Master Nick. Ko has us in a stranglehold.’
I grimaced, my mind racing.
‘You said at the beginning that whether the command originated directly from Kubilai or not, we would have to go, yes?’
‘Yes. Ko must have persuaded him of the importance of the matter.’
‘Then we do not have an option. We must go, so let’s get on. There will be time a-plenty to plan our strategy on the journey there, if it takes as long as you say.’
Lin appeared almost relieved by my apparent fatalism. He gave a short nod of his head that I took as approval.
‘As ever, you cut through my indecision like a sword through a watermelon, Nick. We will make ready.’
I didn’t point out to him that my decision sounded, even to me, more like avoidance than decisiveness, and had been driven by my desire not to have Mongotai’s sword slice through my cheating brain as through the previously mentioned melon. But twas the decision made, so I grabbed the sulky Gurbesu’s arm and pulled her to her feet. Throughout my discussion with Lin, I had failed to consult her, and I knew she would now resent being dragged off to pack for a long journey that she had not agreed to. But I knew she fancied the chance to see more of Cathay, and wouldn’t object for long. I grinned and looked down at her bare feet.
‘Come on, Gurbesu. Be good, and I might even buy you some new shoes.’
I know how to win the heart of a girl, don’t you think?
G urbesu and I hurried back to Old Yenking in the south of Khan-balik in order to tell the others our new plans. The buildings there still clung to the old grid of streets laid out before Kubilai’s grandfather, Chinghis, had laid waste to the Chinee city. Ironically, this act had assisted Kubilai. Fifty years later, he had fewer buildings to clear away in order to build his new winter capital. Many had already been obliterated. Most still remained to the south, and that is where we were living. Like most of the foreigners in the Great Khan’s empire.
My little entourage was made up of Gurbesu — the Kungurat Tartar girl from the North, Tadeusz Pyka — a Silesian Pole from Breslau, and Friar Giovanni Alberoni — a Venetian like myself. He and I had come together in strange circumstances, each drawn to the pole star that was Kubilai Khan. Friar Alberoni had picked me up out of the gutter in Sudak in an area some call Crimea. I had been going through a bad patch in my life, forced out of Venice through little fault of my own. Missing my lover, Caterina Dolfin, I had for once made a mess of my business dealings, and had resorted to the consolation of the bottle. Though I would not admit it to him, Alberoni saved me from myself, and offered me a job as bodyguard for his trip to the furthest edge of the world that was the Mongol
