Daughter of Xanadu Part 15

Then Master Li flipped the beast over onto its back. A gash was ripped from its neck to mid-belly. Bile rose in my throat and I had to look away for a moment. Master Li took a knife and cut the creature open the rest of the way. With expertise, he immediately found a small pear-shaped organ, the gallbladder. He held it up, still dripping. He handed it to Marco, who accepted it as if it were pure gold.

This gall was the precious medicine that might cure the Khan's swollen feet.

The village men dropped their knives and baskets and began dancing around the dead dragon with joy. Marco placed the gallbladder into a small bamboo container he had brought, and held it high for all to see.

"For the Great Khan, may he live ten thousand years!" he shouted in Mongolian.

Suren and I shouted back, "May he do so!"

That was the easy part of our mission. Capturing live dragons would be far harder.

25 Dragon Hunt

Little Li gestured for us to follow him down to the river, where we could hear men shouting. The muddy path sucked my feet every time I lifted one.

At the river's edge, the trap had worked better than expected. Little Li said we had brought good luck from the Emperor. In the trap were six juvenile dragons, all about the length of a span of two arms, fingertip to fingertip.

Although smaller than the dead beast we had just seen, they were far more frightening. They were thrashing and biting each other, ripping at the rope, trying to escape. Some had damaged the skin on the sides and tips of their jaws, exposing the bone.

Though they were young, I could see how powerful their jaws were, filled with sharp teeth. One had a chicken in its mouth and flailed its head side to side to rip it apart.

Little Li told us to stand on a bank overlooking the scene. Then he strode to the trapdoor. His fellow villagers fell back in respect. He tossed off his coat and I saw bulging muscles in his wiry arms.

In one move, he slit a small opening in the net, grabbed a dragon by the tail, and pulled it swiftly out of the trap.

I grabbed Suren's arm when I saw the live dragon outside the net. A villager tossed a thick wet cloth over the creature's head. Little Li pinned it down by straddling its hindquarters, grabbing the base of the neck with one hand and the base of the tail with the other hand. Quickly, another villager wrapped a thick rope around the creature's snout, stopping its snapping. A third villager dragged the bound creature back by its tail. It was done before I could breathe again.

Little Li stood back for only a moment before making another swift cut in the rope netting, grabbing another young dragon by the tail, and dragging it backward out of the trap. The dragons in the trap directed their snapping and thrashing at Little Li. I wondered how long the netting would hold.

A villager again tossed a wet cloth onto the dragon's head, but this second creature seized the cloth in its teeth like meat and whipped its head from side to side, as if trying to kill it. The next thing I knew, another man tossed a wet cloth onto the dragon's head. It was Marco. Little Li straddled the creature's hindquarters and grabbed it in the same two spots. Someone handed Marco a rope and he wrapped the creature's snout tightly closed. How had Marco found the courage to do such a thing? He was grinning.

Suren struggled out of my grip and jumped down the embankment to help with the next creature. It seemed wrong to let amateurs do this work, but he managed to help Little Li subdue a third small dragon.

Two of the creatures had escaped from the trap and slithered back into the river. Only one remained. Little Li wiped sweat from his forehead and stood panting, catching his breath before the final capture. Then he looked up at me.

I shook my head. I had not traveled all this distance from Khanbalik to lose my arm or leg to a sharp-toothed creature that could easily be captured by someone else. The villagers grinned at me with gold-tipped teeth. Suren was panting from exertion.

"Don't do it," he said. Yet he had obviously enjoyed the thrill of it, and his arms and legs were intact. Even a foreign merchant could do it. This chance would never come again. I had killed a lion.

I moved slowly down the embankment, everyone's eyes on me. Little Li's grin grew bigger. Suddenly, I realized they all knew I was a woman.

A villager handed me a wet cloth, far heavier than I had imagined, and stood by with a long rope. Inside, I was quivering. I could not do this. I handed the wet cloth back. The villager looked at Little Li for guidance.

Little Li put the rope into my hands instead. I followed him to the far side of the trap, near the remaining dragon. With more s.p.a.ce, it scuttled around inside. Little Li had to move quickly. Once, he cut the netting in one spot only to watch the creature run to the other side of the trap. It was remarkably fast for such a long, low animal with tiny legs.

Finally, Little Li was quick enough, cutting the netting and grabbing the tail. The creature snapped around to bite his hand, but Little Li was too fast. He pulled it straight out and fell on its back, grabbing it behind the neck. The villager tossed the wet cloth onto its head. Little Li seemed to be wrestling with the creature, which was snapping its jaws under the cloth.

Slowly, I approached the thrashing dragon. The villagers were shouting at me. How was I to get this rope around its snapping jaws? The others had made it look easy. I formed a loop and tried to toss it over the creature's snout, but it fell short. A villager was trying to show me with his hands how to do it. Marco and Suren were shouting directions. Little Li was having trouble controlling the creature.

I tried to wrap the rope around its snout but was too timid. The rope fell to the side. Stupid girl Stupid girl, I thought. How can you fight an enemy if you cannot defeat this animal? How can you fight an enemy if you cannot defeat this animal?

The third time, I went in more boldly, wrapping the rope solidly around the dragon's snapping jaws, once, tightening, then twice, tightening again, then three times, securing it with a knot. I could see myself in action from above, as if my mind had left my body. A villager took the ends of the rope and made a firmer knot, and the others shouted their approval and praise.

It was not the kind of valor I had expected to need in the battlefield. But a rush of pride and energy swept through me, and I whooped with delight.

Both Suren and Marco beamed with pleasure. The villagers began their victory dance, and we joined in. I had never felt such joy. Would victory on the battlefield feel like this? No wonder men craved it.

26 Fire Rats

The next night, we went dragon hunting again and captured four more live dragons, for a total of eight.

Working together, with the villagers, Marco and Suren and I were like three brothers, laughing and joking, in high spirits. I did not realize how much tension had existed between the two of them until it broke. Unlike during the summer in Xanadu, when Suren had held deep distrust and suspicion about foreigners, he now seemed to relax into his true nature in the presence of both Marco and Little Li. This far from Khanbalik, away from the pressures of living up to others' expectations, st.u.r.dy Suren could be himself.

At last I could talk openly and easily with Marco. The three of us talked endlessly about how we could get the fearsome creatures back to Khanbalik. The villagers could not tell male from female, and most of the creatures would probably not survive the long journey. We would need to take as many as possible. Little Li promised to make the journey with us, to ensure that at least some of the dragons would arrive alive. From that remote mountain village, he must have been thrilled at the prospect of visiting the capital and meeting the Emperor.

Suren selected a long, sharp tooth from the adult dragon killed by the blades. With Little Li's help, he bored a hole into the tooth and threaded it with a leather thong. Then he hung the tooth from his neck. "For good luck and protection," he explained.

Marco and the village headman kept the interpreter busy, discussing details about how to get the live dragons all the way to Khanbalik. Little Li rounded up a few men from the village to feed and care for them. The biggest difficulty would be transportation, since horses would be too skittish to transport dragons, and carts would be too b.u.mpy. Marco's eyes shone with zeal as he talked, and Suren was no less engaged. I sat back and watched them with pleasure.

On our last night, the villagers treated us to a big feast. Eating with their hands, they formed b.a.l.l.s of sticky rice and dipped them into several dishes with strong fishy flavors and tart tastes that were new to me but strangely delicious. As we were finishing our meal, I heard a bang even louder than those that had frightened Principessa. We all jumped, and I nearly choked.

Little Li laughed. "Fire rats," he said. He led us toward a crowd of village boys shouting with delight. There I saw what indeed appeared to be a fire rat scurrying around on the ground, its tail aflame, causing people to jump to get out of its way. Suddenly, it exploded with a huge bang, and everyone screamed.

"What is it?" asked Marco.

"We do this every year, at New Year's, to scare away the evil spirits." Little Li picked up a small section of bamboo tube and showed us some powder inside it. He poked a piece of rope into it, sealed it, and dipped the end of the rope into the fire. When the rope caught fire, he placed it on the ground. It began to scurry like a rat with its tail aflame. The "rat" exploded with a huge bang.

"What is inside?" Marco asked.

"Fire medicine. They can fly like arrows, too. Watch!"

Little Li mixed three types of powder-yellow, white, and black-then stuffed it into another bamboo tube, which he tied to a long stick. Then he planted it lightly in the dirt. I noticed a thin rope trailing out the bottom of the tube, along the ground.

Little Li took a burning stick and lit the end of the thin rope.

"Stand back!" he insisted. The fire moved slowly up the rope. Some women put their hands over their ears, and the boys jumped with delighted antic.i.p.ation.

Suddenly, the stick boomed, then shot straight up into the air, like an arrow with a burning tail, trailing acrid-smelling smoke.

"Aaaaah!" we all cried out, admiring the arc of light it traced in the night sky. The stick shot down to earth a few hundred paces away and broke apart as soon as it landed.

"But how does it work?" Marco asked. I admired his curiosity.

Little Li laughed. "I show you!" he said. This time, he let Marco mix the powder and prepare the bamboo tube. Marco punched a hole in the bottom, placed a thin rope inside, and poured the powder into the bamboo. He stuffed paper into it to keep the powder from falling out and made sure one end of the rope trailed out from the open end. Then he turned it upside down and strapped it to a straight stick.

"That's it? So simple?" Marco asked.

Little Li laughed again, a gap between his front teeth showing. "Here!" he said, pointing to the ground. Marco poked the stick into the ground, but it fell over twice before he could get it to stand straight, with the heavy bamboo tube strapped to it. Marco lit another stick in the fire and touched it to the end of the thin rope.

This time, we all knew to stand back. The fire hit the bottom of the bamboo stick and the powder inside. Again, a noise crashed against our ears as the little stick shot up into the air, tracing a graceful arc of light and smoke.

"What is this 'fire medicine'?" Marco asked. Little Li showed him the three ingredients: common black charcoal, a foul-smelling yellow powder called sulfur, and a white mineral called saltpeter. The key ingredient, saltpeter, was something Marco had not known of before. Nor had I. It was a white powder, like flour.

Little Li took a handful of the white powder and tossed it into the fire. The flames turned pale purple and smoke billowed. Little Li laughed at how easily amused we were.

"Where can I get more of this?" asked Marco, his eyes blazing with interest. Marco stayed up late that night, talking to Master Li and Little Li about fire medicine. He wanted to know the exact proportions of the ingredients and the dangers in mixing them.

We left the next morning, leaving the young dragons in the care of Little Li, who promised to find a way to get them to Nesruddin's palace in Da-li. As we headed back to Da-li, we talked nonstop about the best way to transport them to the Great Khan in Khanbalik.

By the time we returned to Da-li, Suren's distrust of Marco had vanished.

Marco said he planned to go to the market in Carajan City and buy large quant.i.ties of saltpeter, which, Master Li had told him, was common and cheap in this warm southern climate.

Marco and I had not had one moment alone, but I felt closer to him than ever.

27 To Battle

When we reached Da-li, after an absence of six days, I expected everyone would be eager to hear our tales of dragon hunting. With eight live young dragons to care for and transport, Marco could no longer keep his mission a secret, although he warned us not to reveal that his purpose was to cure the Great Khan's ailment.

But in Da-li, everyone was too busy to listen to our stories. The moment we entered the city gate, I could see that the populace was in an uproar.

A pa.s.serby told us the king of Burma was headed toward the border region of Vochan with a huge army. Apparently, he had heard about the buildup of Mongol troops and decided to defeat them before the Great Khan could send a bigger army. Impudence!

General Nesruddin had begun organizing his troops for battle. He had only about twelve thousand hors.e.m.e.n, against a Burmese force rumored to be huge, so he needed every soldier he could get. Abaji had traveled with only twenty trained hors.e.m.e.n plus us thirty recruits, but he offered our services for the battle.

I couldn't believe my good fortune. Less than four months after joining the army, I would fight in my first battle. My muscles tensed, eager for action. Of course, I knew nothing of war, only the fast heartbeat I had felt listening to the tales of old storytellers in the safety of the Khan's court. I a.s.sumed I, too, would survive to tell great tales. Only the unknown died in battle.

I felt no fear. I was confident that the greatest army on earth would easily defeat these upstarts from a small, little-known kingdom to the south. The Mongol army conquered all.

The day we left for Vochan was like none other in my life. I packed my things on my horse as I had many times, but it seemed I was outside myself, watching. Every sound was magnified: the whinnying of horses, the slap of saddles landing on their backs, the creaks of the leather belts being pulled tight under horse bellies, the mud sucking my boots, the flapping banners, the high-energy voices of men heading off to battle. Suren could not stop talking, but I found myself almost silent, in awe.

We rode out of the city gate in rows of ten, one squad per row, wearing our full leather armor, a sword on the left, a bow on the right. Two full quivers on our backs held twenty lightweight long-distance arrows and twenty short-distance ones, with heavier tips. Our plan was to return to Da-li after the battle.

Although twelve thousand was considered a very small army, to me it seemed huge. I could not see the front of the line or the back. Each of us was also equipped with a mace and a dagger. I hated the mace, a crude weapon, a spiked ball on the end of a stick, a blunt force requiring no skill or training. But we were ordered to carry it.

We rode five days westward through the jungled hills toward the town of Vochan in the border province of Zardandan. Each night, we slept on the ground along the narrow road, and Suren kept close to me. The evening after we left, it began to rain, and the downfall continued most of the five days-a cold, continuous rain typical of winter in these parts. We were soaked, but the dreary weather could not dampen our spirits.

Marco joined us on the journey to Vochan, though he was no warrior. Nesruddin encouraged him to go so he could tell the story of the victory to the Great Khan. Marco had purchased a gray mare, to replace Principessa. He rode, I heard, near the rearguard. I did not see him during our journey, but I wondered how he was faring in the rain.

When we arrived at Vochan, we pitched our tents on a plain, a large greensward surrounded by hills on three sides. On the fourth stood a great wood, thick with trees. The rain stopped, and we spread out our belongings to dry. My boots were caked with mud. The warm baths and clean beds of Nesruddin's palace now seemed a distant memory.

Nesruddin commanded us to rest and renew ourselves. He used the time to give his colonels instructions for the upcoming battle. The king of Burma was known to employ as many as one hundred elephants in battle. Even the experienced soldiers among us had never faced elephants. I could not imagine how the Burmese could get the giant creatures over the mountain pa.s.ses from Burma to the Plain of Vochan.

Marco stayed in Nesruddin's large tent with him and Abaji. I envied Marco for his having the chance to listen to the two generals strategize before the battle. But I also pitied him because he had to camp with such a great host of Mongol hors.e.m.e.n but was not equipped or trained to fight. What would he do, watch from a nearby hillside?

Two days after we arrived, we saw great clouds of dust and heard the thundering of the enemy troops arriving at the distant end of the Plain of Vochan, about a mile away. The sound vibrated ominously in my body. The enemy poured over a low hill, thousands upon thousands, mostly foot soldiers but also hors.e.m.e.n. We jumped to arms, but soon it was obvious that the Burmese troops were making camp there after their long march over the mountains. The proximity of the enemy made my blood churn. How dare they invade the Khan's Empire?

Where the Burmese pitched camp, at the far end of the plain, it looked as if they had built a city. We could see and smell the smoke from their campfires. They were preparing for battle the next day.

In late afternoon, the distant thundering grew louder. The enemy's elephants were arriving over the low hill. I was amazed by their sheer number. Marching twenty abreast, they advanced onto the plain, row after row after row.

All twelve thousand of us Mongol soldiers watched in shocked silence as the ma.s.sive army of elephants crested the hill and advanced. The ground under our feet shook from their stomping. If their intent was to instill fear, they succeeded. I tried to control the dread swelling in my gut, but I had never felt so overwhelmed.

By the time the thundering stopped, more than two thousand elephants, all equipped for war, had marched onto the Plain of Vochan. How the king of Burma had achieved such a feat was a mystery. I could not believe that so many of these giant creatures existed in the world.

A scout returned, and I crowded with other soldiers to hear his breathless report. "They are large and fearsome, the largest beasts in the world," he said. "Each one carries on its back a fortress of wood, well framed and strong, full of archers. At least twelve, maybe sixteen, on each elephant. All well armed."

I quickly calculated. The archers on elephant-back alone far outnumbered our twelve thousand, and that was only one-third the number of troops the king of Burma had brought to Vochan.

All told, there were indeed sixty thousand Burmese troops. They outnumbered us five to one.

Clearly, the king of Burma was planning the battle to end all battles. We had been caught unawares, with the greatest strength of the Khan's army a two-month march to the east. There was no time to get reinforcements.

Many of us would not survive this battle. I looked at those around me, whom I had come to know well. How many of us would be trampled to death by elephants, felled by archers, or cleaved in two by swords?

Valor, I repeated to myself. It will take valor to face them. But another voice in my head kept repeating a different word: folly folly. I tried to suppress that thought.

Standing next to me on the Plain of Vochan, Suren spoke so low no one else could hear. "You and I must leave this place at once."

I couldn't believe he would say such a thing. "Why?"

"I have strict orders, from the Khan. You are to return to Khanbalik alive."

"What?" I was incensed. "You want to flee before the battle has begun?"

"No, I don't. But you are a woman and cannot die on this battlefield."

I laughed nervously. "Those are the Great Khan's orders?"

"Yes. I have sworn to protect you."

The Khan had allowed me to join the army, but he expected me to flee from battle. Suddenly, Suren, with his broad, kind face, seemed like the enemy. "I'd rather die here than have it told that I fled in fear."

It was as if Old Master were inside my head, shaping my words. He had molded my beliefs as a child so fully that I saw myself as part of a legend, conscious of a role I was acting. The thought of fleeing did not tempt me.

I could see conflicting intentions on Suren's face. He had not chosen this a.s.signment. I touched his shoulder. "Together you and I will tell the Great Khan about our first battle. I will a.s.sure him that you tried to stop me."