The Private Papers of Eastern Jewel (13 page)

'He has a fine big body,' she said with pride, 'so you will not lose too much heat.'

I did not want to lose any, but the anticipation of intercourse with Kanjurjab excited me. I had been celibate for too long and it would surely be the most pleasurable thing available to me in Suiyuan. My healthy appetite for sex, food and adventure had been starved for too long. I remembered my brother, all those years ago in China, telling me I must have been a warrior in a previous life. Things would certainly have been easier for me if I had been born a man, yet, given the choice, I would not relinquish those senses and experiences peculiar to a woman. A man will never know that mysterious sisterhood we have with nature, or the exquisite touch of silk against a heavy breast, or the power that comes with knowing you are beautiful. And then again, who would give up the vanilla-scented skin of a woman, a fragrance so delectable that no distillation of oil or nectar could match it? I envy men their power and their freedom, but not their minds or their bodies.

Mai advised me not to talk too much while lovemaking, in case Kanjurjab thought he was not pleasing me. 'In any case,' she confided, 'no man likes a chattering wife.'

She gave me a scarf made from thick wool to keep my head warm when it was time to go from ger to ger. I thanked her and said, 'It is a day for presents, Mai, and this is a very practical one.'

'Well, your ears could freeze without it,' she said, 'and it will hide your short hair.' She took my hand and led me, bending in the wind, to my husband's ger.

Kanjurjab was sitting on a saddle at the back of the ger in a space usually reserved for honoured guests. Mai left quietly as he beckoned me to sit beside him on a deep fur rug. I couldn't help noticing that this positioned me below him so that I had to look up to speak to him. It has been my experience in life that men, whatever they may say, prefer a woman in this position, and can be encouraged to pity or generosity better while we look up to them. Lucky for us, I suppose, that such simple ploys often reap generous rewards.

Mai was right: Kanjurjab was a large man both in height and weight. He was a good four inches taller than most Mongolian men, who only looked big when on their small horses. He had huge hands with dirty nails and a surprisingly benevolent face. Although we were of a similar age, he looked younger and reminded me a little of Hideo when he was pretending to be not the least bit interested in me. His expression was nervous and irritated at the same time, like a fish when netted but still in the water.

We sat in silence for some minutes and then without looking at me he said he would like some tea. I offered him vodka from the flask I had stolen from Kawashima, but he made no reply, waiting instead for me to get up and serve him the tea he had requested. When I did, he handed it back to me without tasting it and said that I had forgotten the salt. I generously laced the milky brew with the preserve and placed it into his hand.

'Thank you, Yoshiko,' he said. 'I hope you will learn my tastes before too long. I cannot be expected to explain every little thing to you.'

'I hope so too,' I replied. 'I have always been a quick learner and would not wish to bore you with the tedium of becoming my teacher. Boredom is surely one of the worst things in life, don't you think?'

Silence fell again as he sat slurping the horrible tea and looking into the distance. Despite his pomposity I liked him. He had a boyish sweetness that he couldn't disguise and on that evening at least, in the forgiving firelight, I found his lack of pretension and the rudeness of his ger exciting. Even though I would have preferred a little more danger in his make-up I reminded myself that there were things about him that I did admire. He was known in his tribe for his skill at mounted archery and no one could deny his fine horsemanship or his tenderness with Mai.

It occurred to me that Kanjurjab, used to having everything done for him, was waiting for me to prepare myself for him by removing my clothes. Perhaps he wanted me to lie at his feet and wait to be mounted. I had no intention of undressing in his near freezing world, so I decided to take matters into my own hands and show him that with a little imagination a fully clothed woman can be as exciting as a naked one. I knelt before him and released the silver buckle of the Russian belt that he always wore at his waist and it fell clanking to the floor. Slowly, one by one, I undid the loops on the buttons of his long del and, except for his thick leather boots, I found him naked underneath. I began to softly bite and lick my way up the insides of his legs, taking my time and placing my tongue where past experience had shown it would give the most pleasure. Behind the knee I knew to be a particular favourite, and the shallow cup where leg meets groin in a tender run. The muscles on his legs were hard from a lifetime of riding and contrasted strangely with his plump skin, which both smelled and tasted of butter.

He made no sound but set his legs apart on the saddle, tightening his grip to balance himself. I reached his member, took it into my mouth and licked him to a full erection. He began to moan alarmingly and I released him, but he grabbed my head and guided me back to finish what I had started. After a little I rose, pulled up my del and held its hem in my mouth while I undid my breeches, then I squatted on his lap allowing him to penetrate me fully. As we rocked on the saddle I dug my feet into the thick fur of the rug and held my hands above my head in the way that I had seen him do when riding without reins. He grasped my buttocks, pulling me closer at each rock of the saddle until there was no space left between us. As I pushed my tongue into his mouth, caressing his with little darting movements, I ran my nails down his back and moaned his name. I took satisfaction in his noisy climax, for I would have been surprised not to have been able to lead the boy to wherever I wanted him to go. Throughout the satisfying bout I had kept my del on and the scarf Mai had given me around my neck. It was the warmest I had been since arriving in Suiyuan.

It was some time before Kanjurjab spoke a word. He busied himself with his buttons and his belt, then finally he said, 'How did a young girl like you know so well what would please me, Yoshiko?'

I told him that in Japan we were shown in sketches how to give our husbands variety and pleasure in lovemaking, so that they would not tire of us before making their children. I often surprised myself with how easily I could make a good lie. It would be true to say that lies have always been a useful currency to me. One must be careful though, as used without caution a lie will sometimes reveal a truth.

Kanjurjab grunted in a questioning way at the novel idea of having to be taught sex. He slipped the flask from my pocket, poured me a shot of vodka into the cap and took a long swig from the flask himself.

'I hope you saw a lot of sketches, Yoshiko,' he said.

We laughed together and at that moment became friends. I knew that I would never desire him enough to choose to spend my life with him, but he did slip into my history retaining my friendship and goodwill. I doubt though that I kept his.

'We will have a good life and many children together,' he said. 'You were madeto produce strong sons, Yoshiko. Your hips may be a little lean but your spirit is strong. Mongolia is a country blessed by the gods; you will be happy here now that you know your duty.'

There was no true answer I could give him either about duty or the tribe of sons he expected me to produce for him so I changed the subject.

'Will you teach me to ride?' I asked him.

'If you think you need it,' he replied, and we both roared with laughter.

When I next saw Mai, she asked tentatively if I was all right. I said that I was and that I had done my best not to chatter.

'You will be a good wife,' she said.

I told her that no one could be as good a wife as she was a concubine. She giggled at the flattery, but my conscience was not eased.

Airag and Russian Tea with Salt

I would say that most of the Mongolians I have known would be lost in any society other than their own. Their sky, earth, rivers and mountains are as much a part of them as any family member and are treated with equal respect. Land and family are one and the same thing and Mongolians rarely question their place in either. On the vast plains of their inclement realm, surviving the elements breeds in them a kinship with nature and each other that transcends the daily struggle of their lives. While I, permanently seeking escape, felt subdued by the vast acreage of the Mongolian sky, they regarded it as Father Heaven's blanket. Their frozen earth was a mother who bore their weight without complaint. Locked in a symbiosis of blood and soil, Mongolians need their tribes, their elemental gods and their testing land more than any people I have ever known.

And so it was remarkable that my brother-in-law Jon put this oneness, the only life he could imagine, at risk because of his desire for me. This desire, persistent in him as hunger, set him at odds with himself, and eventually turned him from a loyal family member into my faithful creature. Since my wedding day I had been aware that he was attracted to me and although he had done his best to avoid me in Suiyuan I had often felt the heat of his concentration. There had been times when his focus on me was so intense I was convinced it would not go unnoticed. Yet apart from a greeting or two we had hardly spoken.

Only an hour after I first had intercourse with Kanjurjab I settled on Jon as the one who would guide me from Suiyuan to civilisation. We were in his ger drinking the awful airag and listening to a long and dreary story about Mongolians crushing their captive enemies beneath boards as they feasted on top of them. Tsgotbaatar was wandering around in a daze telling his own unintelligible story in a low mumble, while Xue sat next to her daughter Nandak, sipping tea. The ger was steamy with the heat of bodies and panting dogs. Mai kept smiling at me as though we were sharing a delightful secret, while Kanjurjab with his hand on my shoulder listened to the story intently, as though he had never heard it before.

I became aware of Jon's stare and as our eyes met and held for the briefest moment I knew that an opportunity had opened up to me. I knew too that my choosing him as my accomplice would be his downfall. Yet despite my not wanting to hurt him, he was my chance, perhaps my only one. I believed then as I do now that we should act on our desires or pay the price in bitterness and disappointment. You cannot blame the fox for killing chickens, he is just being a good fox. We are all animals and to survive well should be each individual's aim. I have often wondered why nature included guilt in our make-up; perhaps it was a joke.

Sensing that it would take no time at all to seduce Jon, I reminded myself that I must take things slowly or I might just as quickly lose him. An appetite fulfilled too soon is easily forgotten. Far better that I should linger over the preparation of his seduction so that the uniqueness of the delicacy he desired would remain with him long after his sexual possession of me. My boredom with Suiyuan receded as I began to plan my seduction of Jon. Because the cost to him would be so great, I knew that I would more easily achieve what I wanted in the name of love. This lesson I learnt from Yamaga. I had to become mistress of Jon's feelings so that for my sake he would risk everything that he had previously held dear. Such sacrifices are usually made in the courts of attachment or loyalty and can take years to mature. But love, if the circumstances are right, can succeed just as well.

Although still young by the time Jon came into my life, I had lost count of the men I had made love with. Some were more easily called to mind than others, but I was, I believe, a fair judge of men's strengths and weaknesses. I knew Jon to be a good enough man, but I recognised in him a run of unsteadiness that would make him pliant and easy to manage. His sexual prowess, however, was something one could not guess at accurately. It does not follow that handsome men make good lovers or ugly men bad ones.

Jon was neither plain nor handsome. He was short with a slim, muscled body and skin as brown as tobacco. He had lean lips, a strong jaw line and eyes as dark as raisins and as clear as a baby's. Without those eyes you would not have picked him out of a crowd.

Like Kanjurjab, Jon was a fine horseman, good at wrestling and archery. Although they were close friends, when it came to sport and riding they were as competitive as brothers. Despite the difference in their height and bulk, their wrestling matches were never a foregone conclusion, as Jon frequently conquered Kanjurjab's stature with his agility.

He was married to Xue's youngest daughter Nandak, a hardworking girl, popular because she danced rather than walked about the place. Nandak seemed to enjoy the company of everyone she came into contact with and could often be seen tumbling around with the younger children or running with her dogs. I think that she was a simple girl who didn't have the sense to be critical about anything. I never once saw her without a smile on her face, which was a pretty one with a tiny squashed nose and soft plump lips. As a couple, she and Jon appeared no more than content with each other, but then none of us outside such unions truly knows what goes on in them and there may have been love. Jon had two concubines of about the same age as Nandak. He had three daughters with his concubines and no child as yet with Nandak. I couldn't tell which daughter belonged to which concubine, but it hardly mattered as they were, all five of them, inseparable.

And so it was that on the same night my husband first took me to his bed I began to plot my escape from cold, cold Mongolia. It had been an eventful day in more ways than one. I went to bed tired but optimistic. Rolled in a fur with a dog at my side, I drifted into a deep sleep and dreamt that I was sitting by the carp pool in Kawashima's garden. There was a delicious basket of fruit at my side and my fingers were stained pink from the ripe cherries I had been eating. I was wearing the mother-of-pearl earrings that Hideo's betrothed had given me and on my finger, set now in a ring, was my lucky bee in amber. Natsuko was picking little blue plums from branches that she had to stretch up her arms to reach. She was wearing her pearl which looked so dark and beautiful nestled against the shimmering silk of her kimono that I longed for it all over again. Fluttering nearby was the most gloriously coloured butterfly. It settled on the cuff of Natsuko's robe and I knew that it was Shimako. She was happy now, transformed into colours more elaborate than the kimonos of even the most indulged geisha. She was the Shimako of legend, benign and beautiful, admired by all who looked on her. My body felt relaxed and totally at ease in the warm sunshine. As I reached into the basket for a perfect apricot, Natsuko gave me the sweetest smile I had ever seen.