The Book of Crows Page 2

  Just when I was getting used to stretching out my body again, I spotted the large cart they were rolling into the courtyard. On the top was a huge wooden cage – just like the one I’d been in, but several times bigger. There’s no way on earth I’m getting into any kind of cage again, I thought to myself. However, after the big men began to whip one of the old prisoners who refused to climb up into its open door, splattering his blood over the paving stones, I hastily changed my mind. A whole horde of us was shoved inside, the door swung shut, and the big men knotted it tight. We pressed and jostled into each other’s bodies as the cart wobbled round the corner back onto the city streets. Over the sound of squealing pigs and caterwauling hawkers I heard a few of the men around me begin to hurry out half-remembered prayers to ancestors under their breath.

  I shoved my way closer to the bars in time to see us draw to a halt in what looked like the market square, a big open stretch of traders selling piles of pistachios, muslins, jewels, dyes, medicines and cloth. There was already a crowd gathering around us, and as the cart tipped back and the big men dragged our cage down the slope to the ground, even more people appeared, shoving their hands through the bars, pinching and tugging and stroking and groping. A middle-aged woman yanked at my hair, while a fat man prodded my stomach. I tried to slap away the more persistent hands grabbing at my breasts, but my screams and curses got lost amidst all the bustling and shouting. I did my best to hide behind some of the others in the cage, hoping the rude city people would soon get bored and leave us alone.

  It was only after the first man was dragged from the cage that the crowd began to calm down, though after a few locals had approached to feel his biceps and prod his chest and gut, the shouting soon started up again. The accents were thick and most of the people around me seemed intent on spitting out each word, as if they were trying to speak with a whole jugful of water in their mouths. Then I understood: they were making bids. While one of the big men was occupied counting the coins that had been thrust into his hands for the first sale, I began to push my way to one of the sides of the cage, thinking I could prise myself between the bars.

  I struggled and squirmed, and managed to push my legs out. But my father always used to say that I had a big old useless head, and now I saw that he was right. However much I twisted, I couldn’t force my head to squeeze through the gap. I was too late spotting the big men coming back towards me and as I turned over and tried to move towards the other side of the cage one of them caught hold of my foot. He began to tug, and then another one grabbed my ankle. I stretched out to the other prisoners to steady myself, but they recoiled as I reached for them. The big men had pulled my whole leg out now, and I gripped onto the bars so tight I felt my hands burning. I cried and started to kick, but the man holding my ankle only grinned at me and said something to his friend, who laughed. Then they really began to pull, and I flailed and yelped as they tugged. Soon half my body had been yanked out from between the wooden bars, and once again only my head and arms remained inside with the prisoners. My hands were rubbed raw and pricked with splinters.

  ‘Ok, ok, I’ve learnt my lesson. I’m sorry! Listen, I’ve said I’m sorry!’ I screamed at the big men as they yanked harder.

  They had soon lifted me from the ground completely and they turned me, letting my shoulders slide right through. It wasn’t long before I felt the pressure on my head as it began to stretch the bars. I was sure that my skull was about to burst open and spill out all its juice. As I screamed they pulled a little more, and then the bars were clamped around my temples. I closed my eyes to try to stop the dizziness and pain, and at that moment I could hear the temple bells clanging deep inside my head. I was no longer screaming – I was struggling for breath. Just when I thought I was about to faint, there was a loud pop, and I was through. The big men flew backwards and tumbled to the floor with me sprawled on top of them.

  The Empress, whom I had yet to meet, watched the whole stupid struggle, apparently, and she later told me it was one of the funniest things she had ever seen. ‘It looked like a big wooden animal was giving birth to you,’ she laughed, revealing her entire set of mouldy brown teeth. And I guess she was right in a way. That was the day my new life began.

  The big men lifted me to my feet and beckoned the customers forward. A line of people approached. I gave my best smile, hoping that some kind family would take pity on me. A bearded man hooked his finger inside my mouth and pulled back my lips to look at my teeth. A short woman examined my hands and scalp. I tried not to cry when a tubby, grey-haired man grabbed my buttocks. After what felt like hours, the big man pushed them back and the sale began. People began shouting and shoving and throwing their hands up in the air. As the auction went on, most of the crowd fell quiet, until only two people were left calling out offers, a fat woman with curly brown hair and the bearded man who had inspected my teeth. As soon as one of them shouted something, the other one would holler right back. It seemed to me that they’d probably keep going until one of their throats got so dry that they couldn’t shout any more, though I wasn’t sure how long that would take. In the end the fat woman offered something that the bearded man couldn’t beat. I wish I’d heard what she had said, but by then I was so nervous and confused I wasn’t really listening to the bidding. All I noticed was a loud gasp from the crowd. Silence followed, and then the bearded man shook his head and spat. I’ve thought about it a lot since then, trying to work out what she paid for me. But perhaps it’s better not to know how much your life is worth.

  As I stared out into the crowd at the woman who had bought me, one of the big men moved behind me and slipped my hands into a knotted rope, which he then hoisted tight. I didn’t even bother to struggle. What would have been the point? While the fat woman spoke with one of the big men in their language I gave her the once over. She wasn’t simply fat; she was enormous. Her cheeks were great jowls that swung when she spoke, and her clothes seemed to be straining against her drooping rolls of flesh. I’d never seen anyone even half that big before, not even some of the permanently pregnant wives back in the villages. Her thighs were the size of whole roast hams, and they wobbled like the ripples in a lake as she waddled slowly towards me. It crossed my mind that she might have bought me so she could eat me, and a shudder ran over my body. There was no sign of kindness beneath her greasy brown curls, only creases and crow’s feet.

  ‘You may call me the Empress,’ she said, speaking now in the familiar language of the plains. ‘If you do exactly as you are told, you’ll find that we’ll get along well.’

  It was pretty clear that, despite her haughty manner, she wasn’t a real empress. In fact, I doubted that she was much better born or bred than I was. She took the free end of the length of rope that bound my hands and began to shuffle down the street with me. Her voice was as deep and scratchy as a dried-up riverbed in the middle of the desert. I just nodded nervously whenever she spoke, since my tongue was too jumpy with nerves to respond. All I kept thinking about was that this woman owned me now. My bare feet were not used to the scuffed stones and cobbles of the city, and I noticed jealously that the woman’s swollen feet were stuffed into shiny red slippers.

  As we veered off into a tight alley filled with families washing their vegetables in wooden buckets, she turned to me again.

  ‘How many moons have you seen now?’

  Once again I nodded nervously, then tried smiling. I hadn’t seen any moon lately, and I wasn’t in the habit of counting them anyway, since I was pretty certain there was only room for one up in that big tattered blanket of a sky. The fat woman’s face scrunched itself into a scowl.

  ‘Are you stupid? How old are you?’

  ‘I’ve seen about fourteen summers, miss,’ I said.

  ‘Hmm. Those liars at the market assured me you were only twelve. Never mind, never mind. No one need know but us. You’ve got a young face, and that’s the important thing. The only thing we’ve got to worry about is your dreadful accent, but I’m sure a few le
ssons should smooth that out.’

  She laughed to herself a little and shook her head. That was rich, complaining about my accent. I wanted to tell her that she sounded like the boy from my home village who had his whole set of teeth knocked out by the kick of a rowdy mule, or like my father after he fell asleep drunk in the sun and a bee stung his tongue, but I thought it probably wasn’t a good idea to insult her – after all, she was holding the rope that bound me – so I kept my mouth shut.

  I couldn’t help but peer in through the doorways of the houses as we passed: inside I caught glimpses of squat tables laden with freshly baked naan, children crawling over raised beds and women tending fires. The alley grew narrower and the dwellings rose up on either side of us until people had to hold back in doorways to let the Empress pass. The houses were joined together now, one long wall of dried earth, and I wondered how these people could bear to live so close to each other. Back in the villages my father and I used to travel through, there were sometimes arguments about the tiniest corner of great fields or endless plains at the edge of the desert. Some people would argue so much about a handful of land there that they’d end up in a bloody fight, and when one of them got killed the man left standing found he had to use that handful of land to bury the other anyway! So I had trouble believing people could really live so close together without killing each other. How could you keep a secret in a place like that? I was naïve. It would not be long until I found that you can fill every nook and cranny of your body with secrets and still keep your tongue silent, no matter how much it burns your mouth.

  That was more than twelve summers ago now. I’m lying in bed, trying to conjure up that scared little girl being led to the outskirts of Gaochang. We travelled on up into the arid plains and valleys on the very edge of the desert, spending the next two days in a donkey cart because the Empress had begun turning red and breathing heavily from the walk.

  It’s hard to recall the amazement I felt when I first set eyes on this place. The Whorehouse of a Thousand Sighs. It sounds grand at first, doesn’t it? Trust me, it’s not that special. I haven’t left this set of buildings for a single day since I arrived, and now they just look like the same old familiar piles of mud and rock to me. The banners and garlands hanging in the gateway and the courtyard are a bit raggedy now, to tell the truth, and the murals on the walls and the doorways are chipped and fading. But back then it looked like a palace. Because we’re high up on the side of a hill – beyond the garish gateway most of the rooms on our level are actually caves cut into the hillside – from the entrance you can see down to the desert valley below. More importantly, as the Empress explained to me, it also means we can be easily spotted from far away. That’s what all the colourful ribbons on the gate are for. A lot of merchants pass through these parts so as to trade with the middle kingdom, she said, and a lot of them get homesick.

  As we approached the gateway, the Empress dismissed the donkey and his driver and pointed to a trail leading further up the hill, telling me to walk ahead of her. I was slowly getting used to her accent. We followed the trail up and came to a smaller gate, behind which I was shown a couple of badly constructed wooden huts encircling a small courtyard with a few benches, a pile of smouldering ash where a fire had been burning, a trough and a small covered room. This was where the cook lived, I was told, and this was also where we would eat, that is if we weren’t invited to dine with others. The cook, she said, was her eyes and ears, and if I even thought about running away he would be sure to catch me and bring me back for the worst beating of my life. He had gone higher up the hillside to graze the camels, she told me, grinning. ‘The pair of them’s worth more than all you young girls put together.’

  Only when we had made our way back down and had gone through the main gate did she untie the rope around my wrists. The courtyard here was much bigger, and though rough, rocky slopes jutted up around it on three sides, light still poured in from above. A long oak table stretched across the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by brightly sewn rugs and blankets. The Empress said that this was where the guests settled down to eat in the evenings if they paid enough for a party. The cushions looked as fancy as some of the strange clothes people had been wearing at the bazaar. I was impressed.

  ‘At the end are the water troughs. One for washing, one for drinking. Try not to get them muddled up. You may not have much time for washing wherever you come from, and I know some girls just plain hate it, but it’s one of the rules here that you keep yourself clean, understand? Now, you girls live on this side, and the two men live on the other side. Best to stick to your side if you don’t want a good hiding.’

  As we approached the girls’ side, I noticed three caverns set back into the rock, their entrances covered by loose, fluttering strips of cloth. Through the gaps I could see more colourful rugs and cushions covering the floor inside. The Empress followed my glance. ‘These rooms are reserved for entertaining. Unless it is your turn to clean them, you will enter them only in the presence of a guest. Understand?’

  I nodded, and followed her to a heavy wooden door built into a cave at the furthest end of the courtyard. The Empress had to slide a knobbly branch from a loop at its side before she could shove it open. It took a while for my eyes to get used to the darkness. The small room was dusty and damp. There was a niche for a torch on the main wall, and on the others old rugs had been hung to cover the bare rock. On the floor were four piles of straw, each covered with a ratty old blanket.

  ‘You’ll be in here with Claws, Tiger and Silk. I’m sure they’ll grace us with their presence soon enough. Everyone here has a working name. I’ve already thought of yours – you’ll be Jade. Try and remember that. This one on the end is yours. Fresh straw and everything – no one can say I don’t look after my girls.’ She must have seen my worried expression. ‘Cheer up, you’ll soon get used to it. You might even start to like it. Some of them do. Just know that if you are a good girl, I’ll take care of you. It’s not a bad life here. Better than working the fields, or tending oxen, or travelling in one of those caravans in the desert. You’ve got it good here – don’t forget that. And if you ever need reminding … well, you can always ask the other girls what happens if people get above themselves or try to make a run for it. But I’m sure they’ll fill you in anyway.’

  I nodded, trying to look obedient and dutiful. I wasn’t going to run away. Where would I go?

  ‘Good girl. Welcome to your new home. Get some rest today, and tomorrow we’ll see about doing something with your hair and your face.’

  She closed the door and I was left in the cramped, dark cavern. I sat down on my pile of straw and tried to stop the tears from pricking up in my eyes. As I sniffled I heard the branch being slid back through the loop on the door, locking me inside.

  I think I must have slept that whole first day and the night too, though it’s hard to be sure. I remember waking up with the feeling you get when you’re not quite sure where you are, when there’s still a little bit of your dreams refusing to be shaken off. There were shards of light poking through tiny holes between the rocks and a puddle of it spilling in under the door. I wanted to go home, even though I didn’t know where that was anymore. What unnerved me most was the quiet; I couldn’t hear a thing except my own heart thumping about in my stomach.

  I’d been dreaming. Maybe even that dream – the one where I’m standing in a big open square and there are lots of people milling around, just going about their business. Sometimes I’m bartering for eggs, say, or picking up string to darn my clothes with. But at some point I always look down and that’s when I start to panic and claw for breath. The eggs smash to the ground, but nobody notices. They’ve all turned to look at me, because my body is covered in feathers. The fluffy down ruffles in the wind, and when I raise my hand to my mouth I see that instead of a hand I have a wing. People start to shout and scream, and out of the corner of my eye I can see a couple of men running at me with a giant cage, like the kind rich people kee
p songbirds in. That’s when I know I have to fly away, so I begin to flap as hard as I can, and the men are getting closer, so I beat my wings more and more frantically and my feet are just leaving the ground when I wake up, sweaty and cold and gasping for breath.

  I must have had the same dream ten or eleven times since I arrived here. I don’t know why, nor who sent it to me. Are the dead in charge of dreams? That’s what Silk says, but then she’s always saying things like that, and if I believed every word she said then I’d be a bigger fool than she is.

  So perhaps I’d had that dream on my first night here, and that’s why I was feeling so jittery. Or perhaps I first dreamt it later; it’s hard to say. You can tell someone what happened one day and what happened the next, and that’s why we give the days names and numbers. But dreams are harder to pin down. They always find a way of slipping free from your grasp.

  I checked the door. It was no longer locked, so I pushed the heavy door open and decided to venture out. I could see three young women sitting on the bright cushions in the courtyard, and it wasn’t long before one of them spotted me.