History Keepers: Nightship to China (16 page)

Yoyo smiled at him. ‘Welcome to the South China Sea.’

‘
HOW MUCH DO
you three know about China?’ Yoyo asked, polishing the blade of her sword.

They were eating lunch as they sailed north from the horizon point towards the port of Canton.

‘Shall I come straight out and admit it?’ Nathan said with a theatrical flourish. ‘Of course, I know the basics – the Great Wall and so on – but my know ledge is shamefully sketchy. Educate me!’

Topaz grimaced; Nathan’s continual sucking up to Yoyo was starting to grate. He had been following her around like a puppy and cooing at everything she said.

‘I know it’s the longest continuous civilization in history.’ Jake remembered a passage from his book about the travels of Marco Polo. ‘Four thousand years and counting.’

‘Spot on,’ Yoyo told him. ‘In four millennia, though it’s had its ups and downs, our civilization has
never
fallen apart. The Romans lasted barely seven hundred years, the ancient Greeks even fewer. The Egyptians and the Mayans did better, but China wins the prize.’

‘
Naturellement
,’ Topaz commented with a tight smile.

‘As for your western civilizations – the Ottomans, the Habsburgs, the Romanovs’ – Yoyo looked at Topaz – ‘the so-called French civilization . . . they were all over before they began.’ She emphasized her point with a few clicks of her fingers.

Topaz bristled. ‘Although, of course, that depends on how you define civilization,’ she pointed out.

‘France’s heyday was fun – with a lot of powder and gaudy dressing-up – but ultimately it was all rather hollow and short-lived.
Non?
’

Nathan fell about laughing. ‘You have to admit, that
does
have a ring of truth!’

Topaz was determined not to rise to the bait. ‘Carry on, Yoyo. I’m fascinated.’

‘So, you’re asking, how on earth have we lasted so long? How have we been so absurdly successful? How have we earned our title, the Middle Kingdom – as in, “the realm between heaven and earth”?’

‘Yes, yes, tell us!’ Nathan exclaimed.

‘
Pour l’amour de Dieu
,’ Topaz muttered under her breath.

‘The answer is: our talent for invention – and
re-
invention – through the ages. Since 1700
BC
the country has been ruled by a series of dynasties: all-powerful families, each one seeing in a new era of change. The Shang invented the Chinese alphabet and built the world’s first navy. The Zhou followed with cast iron and mathematics. In 221
BC
, the Emperor Qin – the first emperor – started on the Great Wall, the largest structure ever built: over four thousand miles long, the distance from London to Delhi.’

‘The Emperor Qin,’ Nathan piped up excitedly, ‘was the one who buried himself with all those stone soldiers.’

‘Not just soldiers,’ Yoyo replied. ‘An entire court: governors, cooks, musicians, slaves – thousands and thousands of them, all to look after him and run his empire in the afterlife.’

‘I’ll give them this,’ Topaz quipped, ‘they’re not afraid to be grand.’

‘And why should they be?’ Yoyo answered. ‘Modesty is for the rest of the world. After the Qin came the Han. Obviously, they invented paper, the compass, the seismograph – but, more importantly for all of us, they opened up the first global trade route. The Silk Road, as you probably know, wasn’t just one road, but a whole network running through Asia, connecting the east to the west. The Romans couldn’t get enough of that silk – this was the age of Julius Caesar, more or less; but even more importantly,
ideas
started going back and forth. It became an information superhighway.’

‘Fascinating . . . fascinating,’ Nathan gushed, running his hands through his hair.

‘And we’ve barely scratched the surface.’ Yoyo checked her reflection in her gleaming blade. ‘During the Tang dynasty – AD 800, give or take – while the rest of the world was entering a dark age, we were scaling new heights. There was an explosion of art and culture. White porcelain was created, printing, gunpowder . . . There were huge advances in science, astronomy, geography.’

‘What about Genghis Khan?’ Jake asked. ‘When was he?’

‘He came after,’ Yoyo told him. ‘In the thirteenth century he pushed the boundaries of the empire further than ever, from Europe in the west to Mongolia in the north. After Marco Polo visited the country and took his stories back, the whole world was clamouring for all things Chinese. The obsession grew and grew, and since the early 1500s, sea routes have been opening up between east and west.’

Yoyo sheathed her sword and looked at them seriously. ‘Which brings us to now: the famous Ming dynasty. An age that is rich beyond all imaginings. The Great Wall is complete. Peking, the most populous place on earth, is filled with the golden palaces of the Forbidden City. And trade, the bringer of all this wealth – not just to China, but to all the world – is booming like never before—’

‘And there ends the lesson,’ Topaz couldn’t resist putting in with a smile.

‘Land!’ Jake suddenly shouted, leaping to his feet. ‘Land ahoy!’

They all turned to look at the horizon ahead, hazy in the midday heat. They pressed on, merging with a stream of ships heading to and from the mainland. Jake watched the other vessels with interest. There were many galleons from the west, setting off on their long journey home, their timbers creaking, their sails charged with wind, but it was the Chinese merchant ships – the junks – that intrigued him most. They were squarer than the western ships, the bulky sterns rising steeply out of the water – a sheer cliff of timber – and their sails looked like the fins of giant fish.

‘That’s Macao there . . .’ Yoyo pointed towards a port just visible in the distance – a multitude of roofs nestling amongst undulating peaks. ‘Almost a new city. It’s a Portuguese trading post, administered by the Chinese. In just a few decades – since world trade really began to explode – it’s grown twenty-fold.’

They forged on along the coast into the giant delta of the Pearl River. The estuary was so huge that it was hours before the banks narrowed enough for them to see land on the other side. A sequence of tributaries flowed into the river mouth, each carrying away a portion of the ships. It was not until mid-afternoon that the
Thunder
finally reached the harbour of Canton itself.

The sun had got the better of Jake, and for the last hour he had been sitting under an awning, sweat dripping down his face. His discomfort was forgotten as the city came into view – like a mirage forming out of the sweltering heat. He stood up, gawping.

As in London, there were ships everywhere; the jungle of masts seemed to disappear to infinity. But where the other port had been rich and dark, Canton was a blaze of light and colour. The sea was a vivid turquoise, and the city itself looked golden, with its layers of yellow- and orange-tiled roofs. Adding to the magic, clusters of tropical palms sprouted between the buildings, and in the distance Jake could see elegant pagodas – slim towers rising in ever-narrowing tiers.

On one side of the river, in the grandest part of the port, the banks were teeming with people, mostly wearing conical
rice
hats to protect them from the sun. There was a carnival atmosphere, with people waving batons and jostling forward to get a better view of the river.

‘How touching.’ Nathan grinned. ‘Our very own welcoming party.’

A cheer went up, and soon everyone was clapping and shouting. Nathan found himself waving back and tossing his glossy locks.

From behind came a blare of horns, so earsplitting it made them all jump. They had been so busy looking ahead they hadn’t noticed the vessel on their tail – a gargantuan ship that cast a shadow over the
Thunder
as she glided towards the dock. The horns were soon accompanied by pounding drums:
boom, boom, boom
.

The ship had seven masts, each with a fin-shaped sail of canary yellow. Along her many terraces was a series of grand pavilions decorated with golden carvings; on the prow a golden dragon, its jaw wide open, tongue reaching out. The decks teemed with soldiers, and a flotilla of at least twenty smaller vessels accompanied her.

‘She’s a flagship,’ Yoyo commented, ‘owned by the emperor and his family. It’s illegal for any other craft to be decorated with royal yellow.’ The colour was everywhere; Jake noticed a throne of lemon silk standing on the foredeck.

‘A flagship?’ Nathan asked. ‘Sounds appealing.’

Yoyo was about to continue when Topaz butted in. ‘They were made famous by Zheng He, the fifteenth-century explorer who went on many imperial missions across the globe – partly to explore the world, but also to blow China’s trumpet, so to speak.’ She turned to Yoyo. ‘Am I right?’

‘I suppose we
were
blowing our trumpet,’ Yoyo replied, ‘because we had a trumpet to blow. Navigationally speaking, the west was inept, stuck in the Middle Ages.’

Nathan laughed. ‘She has a point there, Topaz: it did take us a while to get going on water – though I like to think we’ve made up for it now.’

His sister smiled back through gritted teeth.

‘Anyway, as you can see,’ Yoyo went on, ‘a flagship like this, or a
treasure ship
, as they are sometimes known, is a remarkable craft by any standard. They can carry up to five hundred passengers – navigators, explorers, doctors, sailors, soldiers; they’re really miniature cities, the royal court at sea.’

‘So she’s actually the emperor’s ship?’ Jake asked. ‘Do you think he’s aboard?’

Again Topaz cut Yoyo off before she could speak. ‘Probably not Wan Li himself, as he rarely leaves Peking. But he has three sons and, judging by the armed guard, I would say that at least one of them must be there.’

‘And what would they be doing here in Canton?’ Jake wondered.

This time, before either girl could answer, Nathan held up his hand. ‘Why don’t we let Yoyo do the talking? She does seem to be the expert.’

‘Thank you, Nathan,’ she purred. ‘Well, as you know, China is large – double the size of Europe; so the emperor or his family need to visit the provinces from time to time, for purposes of morale . . .’ She turned to Topaz and added slyly, ‘And for generally blowing their trumpets.’

As the imperial behemoth peeled off towards her mooring, the
Thunder
continued further into the port. Jake gazed at the multitude of quays, each buzzing with life: sailors and traders shouting, gulls screeching. The bright colours were repeated in the smocks of the dockworkers and the gaudy awnings of the many carts, carriages and litters that made their way through the tumult.

‘If my memory serves me,’ Yoyo announced, pointing further ahead, ‘Pei-Pei’s paper factory lies on that southern promontory there. Might I suggest we dock just short of it?’

Topaz turned to Nathan at the helm. ‘You heard her: make for that quay.’

Jake reminded himself what they were doing here. Pei-Pei was a Cantonese millionaire who not only collected priceless tide stones – like the Lazuli Serpent – but also owned the factory that produced the paper for Madame Fang’s flyers. The History Keepers hoped that by tracking him down, they might also discover the whereabouts of Xi Xiang.

They moored between a Chinese junk and a western galleon, both double the size of the
Thunder
.

There followed a debate about their clothes. Nathan suggested they go shopping immediately and buy appropriate
oriental
attire. ‘There’s some fantastic stuff to be had, in truly zinging colours,’ he said enthusiastically. But Topaz vetoed the proposal, pointing out that Canton was full of Europeans and they wouldn’t look out of place in their Jacobean costume.

‘It’s just no fun at all,’ Nathan muttered to Jake as they disembarked. ‘What’s the point of coming to these places if we can’t dress up?’

They set off along an alleyway between two warehouses. Away from the water, Jake was aware of the intense heat. The air was like soup.

‘There’s going to be a storm,’ Topaz murmured as she looked up at the sky. Just half an hour ago it had been blue; now it was the colour of gunmetal.

Not far from the dockside they came across a long, low grey building with narrow barred windows.

‘That’s the paper factory.’ Yoyo stopped in the shadows at the corner to assess it.

‘Any reason why it’s so heavily guarded?’ Nathan asked, nodding towards the armed sentries at the entrance. ‘How valuable
is
paper exactly?’

‘Not as valuable as that,’ Yoyo said. ‘Let’s see if we can get in at the back . . .’ She set off, but halted almost immediately, remembering the chain of command. ‘Sorry, Topaz – should we . . .?’

‘Carry on,’ the other girl replied. ‘We’ll follow your lead.’

They edged their way round the building, only to find the back even more impenetrable than the front: just a sheer, windowless wall.

‘I dare say there’s no way in through the roof?’ Nathan asked. It was tiled and shaped in the Chinese style, curving up at the edges.

‘There are air vents there.’ Topaz pointed to a row of slits in the curve of the roof. ‘At least we can
see
inside.’ Without hesitation, she vaulted up onto an adjoining wall and leapfrogged onto the eave, keeping down so the guards wouldn’t see her over the roof. She checked that the slates would bear her weight, then nodded to the others. In a flash, Yoyo was at her side. Jake followed, a little more clumsily. Nathan was about to join them when Topaz let out a soft whistle. ‘You stay down there and keep your eyes on the guards.’

‘No problem,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘You have fun. I’ll just stay here and do the menial work.’

The other three crept along towards the vents; now Jake could see wisps of vapour curling out. They peeked in, and saw a large room below them.

Vats filled with a slurry of water and mashed-up wood bubbled over huge fires tended by men stripped to the waist. Further along, the boiled-down concoction was strained through porous screens. The residue was flattened by stone weights; finally, squares of damp, compressed paper were carried through into the adjoining space.