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think.’
    â€˜You know I cannot read Chinee or Mongol script, only Turkish. And that rather poorly.’
    â€˜Then trust me. I have read them all. There was reason to examine Jianxu strongly. But of course you are right in another way. A confession obtained in such a situation is a flawed piece of evidence. That is why I need you to do what you do best, and uncover the truth.’
    Lin knew he could always win me over with such flattery. And, predictably, I gave in to it.
    â€˜Very well. But tell me one thing. You didn’t answer my question concerning who petitioned the court of Kubilai in support of this girl, Jianxu.’
    Lin smiled his little enigmatic smile again, and patted my knee.
    â€˜Ah, just a bunch of vagabonds, one of whom you will meet in ten days time when we get to T’ai-Yuan-Fu.’
    He liked a good secret, did Lin Chu-Tsai, and refused to say any more to me about the matter. I could not imagine how a bunch of vagabonds and ne’er-do-well Chinee could exert any influence with Kubilai. But then they didn’t have to. It was the sneaky Ko Su-Tsung who had lifted the case out of obscurity and convinced the Khan to consider it. A hopeless case, supported by a ragtag of lowly Chinee, was a perfect trap in which Lin and I could be ensnared. I still didn’t know how we were going to save ourselves, and it was not until we reached T’ai-Yuan-Fu that I had an inkling of what truly awaited us.
    The following morning, we reassembled and continued on our journey. A mile beyond Cho-Chau the road forked, one branch going westward still in Cathay, and the other south-east towards Manzi and the southern lands not yet conquered by Kubilai. Our direction was westward, and we passed on the way salt works where men laboured by pouring water over salt-laden earth then boiling the brine in big iron cauldrons. Lin told me they exported the pure, white salt to many countries, bringing in a great deal of wealth for Kubilai’s coffers. I have to say, I lost interest in his explanation of the industries that we passed. That was until I spotted some well-tilled fields and land dotted with low growing bushes that were very familiar to me. Lin saw where my gaze was turning, and nodded.
    â€˜Yes, they are vineyards, Nick.’
    Things were beginning to look up.
    The girl sat and shivered in the cold mud hut that was her cell. Her thin green cotton robe did little to keep her warm as the night approached. She could almost feel the chill of autumn creeping across the barren land she could see outside the little window set in the door to her cell. There would soon be frosts turning the broken earth white and hard. But she would not see that. She would be dead by the executioner’s hand. Another shiver ran up her spine, this time caused by the fear that ran through her every fibre. She did not like the fact that the road to where she was being kept was also visible from the window. It was unlucky to have a door facing a road.
    She huddled up on the little pallet which was the only furniture allowed in her cell, picking at the scabs on her feet. Her luck had been bad recently, particularly since the death of her husband. But she had turned twenty a month ago, and she was convinced that her big luck cycle was returning. She needed the luck – yun – or she would not survive to see the winter. She had begged the boy to help her, to petition the Khan if necessary. He was not the brightest person to have your fate dependent on, and had looked at her with horror when she had suggested going over the prefect’s head. But she had smiled at him through the bars on the cell window, and reached through to stroke his hairless chin, suggesting who else he might rally to her cause. She knew she had aroused him, and that should be enough to get him to do as she wished. He had left with a scared look on his face, but lust in his eyes. Pulling her knees to her chest, she felt a little warmer. Yes,