Daughter of Xanadu Part 10

I looked away, watching the bushes for signs of movement. That had been the Khan's purpose in a.s.signing me to this task. I had succeeded. Now it felt wrong.

At what point during the summer had my feelings changed? During that elephant pavilion ride with the Khan, my choices had appeared clear and simple: Loyal without question, I had wanted to prove myself capable by gathering the information the Khan had requested. Then, gradually, meeting by meeting, in the gardens and gra.s.slands, I had learned to see the world through Marco's eyes. Now loyalty to one man felt like betrayal to another.

Those jade eyes bored into me, and I needed to defend myself. "It was my a.s.signment, before I knew your name, Marco Polo. If I do well, I will be allowed to join the Khan's army. That is my dream." Even as I said the words, I thought, What have I done? What have I done? This man had never harmed me, never tried to control me. He had trusted me. Now I had sown the seeds of the destruction of his homeland. This man had never harmed me, never tried to control me. He had trusted me. Now I had sown the seeds of the destruction of his homeland.

Marco rolled over onto his back, still clutching his ankle. "What a fool I've been."

I looked again at his thick curly beard, his reddish hair, his delicate lips, his well-formed eyebrows over those deep-set eyes whose color changed in every light. How often had he made me laugh and forget my worries? Just as I had shown him the sights of Xanadu, he had introduced me to the wonders of the world beyond, painting verbal pictures. I blushed as I remembered the map he had traced on my back.

I reached to touch his shoulder. "Marco, I..."

He rolled his head in my direction, and I cringed at the deep disgust in his face. I hated the person he saw.

"Marco. I wanted to tell you. But what could I say?"

His face darkened with anger.

Marco laughed bitterly. "Ah, Emmajin Beki. My n.o.ble lady." His sarcasm dripped like acid onto burnished metal. "We Latins are people, like you. We love our homeland as much as anyone."

My face burned. When I had told my uncle about the strategy, I had felt torn. But I had a.s.sumed that Marco would never know of my role. Now it seemed possible, even likely, that the Khan would send me on a mission to invade Marco's homeland. Instead of triumph, I felt shame.

Venezia was far away, and Marco was here, glaring at me. Now that I had lost his friendship, his admiration, I realized how much I cared for him. My heart felt stabbed.

Once we knew we had not been followed, Marco leaned on me and limped back to his ger ger. His anger and resentment weighed heavy on my shoulder.

He did not say good-bye. I was certain I would never speak to him again.

16 Commission

Finally, it rained in Xanadu. A heavy storm one night blew branches off trees and watered the parched gra.s.ses of the meadows. The thunder and lightning woke me. At first, it seemed a punishment by Tengri, Eternal Heaven. But no lightning struck in the valley of Xanadu, so we took it as a good sign: G.o.d's anger was directed elsewhere.

The next morning, the gra.s.ses shone greener and the world seemed made afresh. A cool breeze softened the air, chasing away the heavy humidity.

Suren and I grabbed our swords and headed for our secret clearing in the woods. We began our daily practice, slashing cloth-wrapped sword against sword. Thunks and whaps rang out, instead of clangs of metal. The slices and blows were a wonderful way to vent my anger and confusion.

We had not been practicing long when we heard the sounds of horses crashing through the trees to our secluded site. The entourage was hidden until the last minute.

Entering our clearing was the Great Khan's palanquin, carried by six servants. When they had pushed up the last twist of trail, they carefully lowered the carriage, draped in imperial yellow silk covered with dragons.

Suren and I froze. We had no time to run or hide the signs of our forbidden activity. We bowed low, heads to the ground, swords laid out before us in the wet gra.s.s. When we heard the cloth pulled aside, we shouted, "Long live the Khan of all Khans!"

The Khan's servants lifted him out, wooden seat and all, and carried him to a high spot of ground.

"Arise."

We rose and faced our grandfather. Apparently, my training was not a secret. Suren and I stood with spines stiff, he stocky and thick, and I lanky and thin. I heard Suren take a sharp breath. Would the Khan punish him for teaching me swordsmanship?

"Prince Suren, Emmajin Beki, I have heard that a woman is learning swordsmanship in these woods."

We bowed our heads. I should have sought his permission. Now I was getting my beloved cousin in trouble.

"I have come to watch you practice."

Suren glanced sideways at me, clearly apprehensive. He had made progress, working with the master, but still we handled our swords like beginners.

I spoke. "Our skills are meager. We have little to show to one who has watched the greatest swordsmen in the world."

The Khan laughed deeply and switched to his familiar tone of address, used only within families. "Show me what you have learned so far."

Suren glanced at me, and I smiled to put him at ease. Maybe now I could show the Khan directly that I was worthy of becoming a soldier, not just a spy.

I picked up my cloth-wrapped sword, and Suren did the same. We took our stances. I made the first thrust, and Suren parried. Thunk. Whap. Our m.u.f.fled swords crossed and thrust. I focused hard, trying to remember all I had learned.

Suren made an error, exposing his left arm. I could have pretended to cut it off, but I did not. Instead, I thrust to his right, and I saw realization in his eyes at the last moment. I did not want him to look bad before the Khan.

Although it was practice, the swords were heavy, and we were soon out of breath and sweating.

"Hah!" I shouted. It was the sound we used to end a fight. Suren stopped, his sword high against mine. We froze in that pose for a moment, then dropped our swords to our sides and bowed again to the Khan.

The Khan smiled. "You do not want to kill each other?"

Suren again looked at me, uncertain.

So I spoke: "We are both Mongols and kin. No need to kill today."

The Khan laughed. He tried to stand, and two servants rushed to his side. He wobbled, and his swollen feet would not hold him. He sat again, hard, but on the edge of his fur-covered seat. "You have learned much in a short time."

Suren spoke with fervor. "We are eager to cut down the enemies of the Khan."

The Khan smiled. "Suren, son of Chimkin, you will make a fine soldier."

Suren breathed relief. The Great Khan had not reprimanded him.

Then our grandfather turned his eyes toward me. "Emmajin Beki. Come."

I approached him, my head bowed. The Khan knew everything and did nothing by chance. Did he know I had overheard his military strategy?

The Khan spoke. "You handle a sword better than I expected. But you are more woman than warrior."

I stiffened, then summoned my courage to speak. "I can be both."

The Khan smiled, looking surprised and indulgent. "I have been watching you all summer. Your uncle Chimkin thinks you have grown strong. He says you have carried out your a.s.signment well. Much better than anyone expected."

I nodded but did not smile, remembering Marco's pain.

"What did you learn from the foreigner?"

"Christendom seems defenseless," I said. "It is divided into many countries."

He nodded as if asking me to continue.

I paused, trying to think of the right words. I needed to sound both wise and loyal. Yet I spoke from the heart. "I have learned that the world is large. That every land has good people as well as bad. That no decision can be taken lightly. That the Khan's wise rule can"-my voice faltered-"will unite all the peoples of the world and bring peace and prosperity." It was not exactly what Marco had taught me. But I wished it to be true. unite all the peoples of the world and bring peace and prosperity." It was not exactly what Marco had taught me. But I wished it to be true.

The Khan's thin eyebrows rose.

"The foreigner, Marco Polo," I continued, "wishes to return to his homeland, with goods to trade." The Khan's eyebrows joined. "If that is the Khan's wish," I added.

"My plans for the young Latin are up to me," he said.

I gulped and nodded. Why had I risked my future by asking a favor for Marco? Still, I could not help adding, "He has served you well, and pleased you as a storyteller."

The Khan tapped his finger on his armrest. "I am considering an invasion of the Latin's homeland. Your uncle Chimkin says your Latin words and your knowledge could prove useful. Would you be prepared to join this expedition?"

Suddenly, I had the choice of betraying Marco or my homeland. I knew the Khan was testing me, to see if I sympathized too much with the foreigner. If I said the wrong thing, I would never be able to join the army.

"I would like to fight against enemies of the Empire, but not in Christendom."

Suren sucked in his breath, and the Khan stared at me. While I knew this was not the right answer, something had changed inside me during the summer in Xanadu. If given a choice, I would not take part in the invasion of Marco's homeland.

"You must face a hard truth, young Emmajin," the Khan said. "All enemies are people, like Marco. Every man you kill in battle has a father, an uncle, a homeland, some skill, perhaps a sense of humor. Everyone who joins the army must learn that."

The Great Khan was right. It had been weakness that had made me identify with that foreigner. Soldiers needed to show strength. But finally the Khan had said the words I had ached to hear: "join the army." I had already betrayed Marco. It was time to be loyal to my dreams.

Calm confidence flowed through me. I no longer felt confused or angry, embarra.s.sed or humiliated. I regarded him steadily. "If the Great Khan gives me the honor of being the first woman soldier in his army, I will strive to bring you glory."

He c.o.c.ked his head, as if not understanding. "But you would not obey my orders to invade that man's homeland."

I straightened my back. "I obeyed your orders by reporting what the foreigner told me about his homeland. As a soldier, I will obey any orders the Khan gives."

"Good," said the Khan. "Then I will let you train with the army, in Ninth Moon."

I bowed my head and closed my eyes, flooded with relief and grat.i.tude.

At last I had resolved the battle in my heart. Face to face with the Khan, I had spoken up for what I thought Marco wanted. Against all odds, the Khan had allowed me to join the army anyway.

My blood pounded so fiercely that my head felt light. I was ready to leave my childhood behind. I was prepared to venture into the real world of battles and conquest in the Khan's army. Now I had to forget about Marco and prove myself a good soldier.

Part II - Journey to Carajan

17 The Army

On the last day of Eighth Moon, the Great Khan and his court left Xanadu and returned to the capital in Khanbalik. This time, I rode with Suren, and we were high with enthusiasm. My joy about joining the army the next day helped me to bury my still-simmering regrets about Marco. My independent adult life was about to begin. Temur, too, had been permitted to join. Good-hearted Suren did not seem to mind.

When I arrived home, I found on my bed a fur-lined military-style coat, a fur cap with ear flaps, thick felt leggings, a new pair of leather riding boots, and a set of leather armor. Beside them lay a white del del, embroidered with the insignia of the Khan's army, made of smooth, firm silk. Clearly, someone from the military had delivered them, at the Khan's orders. I held the del del to my face, feeling its texture against my cheek. to my face, feeling its texture against my cheek.

This type of silk, I knew, was a special fabric used only for the army. It was famous from the stories of Chinggis Khan's conquests, a layer of silk worn under the leather armor, so tightly woven that arrows could not pierce it. Mongol soldiers astounded their enemies, because when an arrow struck them, they could pull it out of their armor, toss it aside, and continue fighting. A surge of grat.i.tude overwhelmed me as I held the first tangible sign that I was truly to become one of those soldiers.

I ran my fingers over the leather armor, a cuira.s.s designed to cover the front and back of the torso. It was made of overlapping strips of lacquered black leather and laced with rawhide thongs, and it had flaplike sleeves. The flap that protected the right arm had no laces. That made me smile. The right arm needed to be free for shooting during battle.

I tried on the armor. It was remarkably flexible but still it made my body feel stiff and masculine. I tucked my braids inside and pulled the cap over my head. I wished they had given me weapons, as well. In my room, I pretended to wield a curved saber.

"Why are you doing this?" My mother was standing outside the bedroom door. At her side, Drolma had twisted her face into a look of disgust.

I walked over to my mother and gave her the gentlest expression I could. "You know me. I have always loved archery. I can think of no greater honor."

She looked up at where the wall met the ceiling. "I tried to discourage you."

"No more need to worry about my betrothal. The next suitor will be for Drolma."

Drolma sighed. "No one will want to marry me now."

"If I bring glory to our family, every general's son will want to marry you," I said.

Now my mother sighed. I thought I saw her blink back a tear.

"This is only training," I said. "I will be at a camp south of the city. I am not going far away." But no soldier trains for long. Ultimately, I would go far away.

Early the next morning, the first day of Ninth Moon, filled with exhilaration and apprehension, I donned my military garments and packed a bag of belongings, enough to last several weeks. Clad in full armor, I looked like a soldier in every way, except for my hair. My chest under bulky clothing was flat enough that I could pa.s.s for male.

Suren smiled when he saw me. We were overdressed for that late summer day, and no one wore armor within the city limits. But we couldn't help wearing every item.

"You look intimidating," I said, teasing him. "Where is Temur?"

"My father decided he should train with a different battalion."

Good, I thought. Temur would not be competing with us as we learned new skills.

I wished Marco could see me outfitted as a soldier. He had returned to Khanbalik with his father and uncle, I had heard, but I did not know his plans. I wondered if the Khan had given them enough treasures to enable a return journey. Thinking of Marco made my heart hurt. I wished I had been able to say a proper good-bye.

Suren and I rode together to the camp where we would begin training. We were to be among three hundred new recruits for the Khan's personal guards, the kashik kashik. This was the elite of the army, a roster of ten thousand men. It included many of the Khan's close relatives, as well as select Mongolian n.o.blemen and sons of high commanders. The rest were chosen on a compet.i.tive basis, the best of every battalion. These soldiers remained near the Khan, so they seldom went to war as a unit, but the Khan selected men from this group for special missions.

When Suren and I arrived, most of the recruits had already lined up for inspection. Each holding a bow, they were standing in rows, in three companies of one hundred. All were dressed, like us, in full armor.

For his personal guard, the Khan chose Mongols from many different clans, mixing them so no one clan could conspire against him. Cathayans were not permitted, since they outnumbered us and could not be trusted to support the Khan's rule. But other foreigners, such as Turks and Tibetans, were allowed to join in small numbers if they were from clans allied to the Golden Family through marriage. They were called in-laws. I recognized only one face, that of Jebe, General Aju's son.

It was a crisp fall day with a high, clear blue sky and a slight breeze. It had rained overnight and the ground was muddy. Most of the training would be done by a lower officer, but that day the Khan's son, Chimkin, stood before them, tall and handsome.

I struggled to suppress my doubts. Earning the Khan's permission might have been easier than earning the respect of my fellow soldiers would be. Suren and I tied up our horses, took our bows, and walked toward the troops. We stopped at a respectful distance. Many of the men glanced at us, so Chimkin followed their looks. I stood as straight as I could.