Daughter of Xanadu (17 page)

After Abaji finished, Chilagun led us to our quarters. We were to stay at the army’s training camp every day of Ninth Moon, with no more than half a day’s rest every ten days. The soldiers were to sleep on pallets in long, low wooden buildings surrounding a courtyard of hard-packed earth. Where would I sleep?

When we arrived in the courtyard, Chilagun took me aside. “My orders say you are to be treated like the other soldiers,” he said gruffly.

“Yes, Sergeant.” My muscles ached so much it was hard to stand at attention.

“But we have had to make separate sleeping arrangements for you.”

I nodded. He marched me to a small room on one side of the courtyard and left me there. I was expected to sleep alone, something I had never done. Of course there would be no maidservant to help me. What was more, this was a drafty square building made of wooden planks, not a
ger
covered in felt and designed to withstand the wind. I took off my leather armor and propped it in a corner. Standing in that small room, I felt more exposed than I had in the company of the other soldiers. I sat on my pallet, exhausted, head in my hands.

At dinner, I sat with Suren and met several other recruits. A few avoided me, but some came to converse with us. Suren chatted easily and made friends quickly. No one knew what to say to me, but I didn’t mind. I sat quietly, listening to their chatter.

Once, one man used a crude word, then caught himself, looking in alarm at me. Suren laughed. “Don’t worry. She’s heard it all.” After that, they didn’t censor their words in my presence. I enjoyed the illusion of being an ordinary soldier.

Not long after dinner, though, I returned to my small room, alone. I had my own privy, but I suspected that some soldier might be tempted to look through the wooden slats. To my horror, I discovered that my monthly courses had arrived, several days early. My body had slapped me, reminding me that I was, after all, female. How could I wash my monthly cloths here? At court, a female servant took care of this annoying task.

I emptied my bag, looking for something I could use. At
the bottom, I found several clean white cloths. Apparently, my mother had packed them.

Later, without removing my clothing, I snuffed out the candle and lay down. After feeling hot all day, my body felt stiff and cold, and a heavy weight tugged at my belly. In the darkness, I could hear every sound from the men’s barracks across the courtyard. From this distance, their easy laughter seemed mocking. In my loneliness, I imagined that they were talking about me, a young woman by herself, sleeping across the courtyard. Would Suren stop them from saying rude things about me? They had joined the army to protect women and children, and having a female soldier in their midst confused that view.

That night I barely slept. After the sounds died down in the courtyard, the quiet seemed more ominous. I watched the faint light under the door flap, imagining shadows of feet outside. Once, I heard a loud cough that seemed to come from just outside my door. I sat upright, clutching my sleeping fur around me. My insides went cold as I sat frozen in place, listening to phantom footsteps.

What would I do if some man came into my sleeping quarters? Would I scream? Soldiers were supposed to be courageous, yet I feared my fellow soldiers. How could I show valor in battle when I was quaking in my own bed?

By daybreak I had made a decision. At the morning meal, I sought out Suren and told him I could not sleep alone. He searched my eyes as if trying to read my thoughts. “Shall I arrange a guard for you, to sleep by the door?”

My eyes said yes for me, even though the request betrayed weakness.

“I will arrange it.” His voice took on a tone of authority
I had never heard before. He saved me the embarrassment of asking myself.

That night and every night afterward, a guard kept watch outside my door. My nighttime fears were eased.

I had never worked my muscles so hard, day in and day out, morning, afternoon, evening. We raced on foot and on horseback and practiced standing archery, mounted archery, and swordsmanship. We also learned how to wield hatchets in battle, against enemies made of straw.

The other soldiers, all sixteen to eighteen years old, were at the peak of their physical strength. In many ways, I could not match them. I surprised them with my endurance and could beat most of them in archery. But no matter how hard I worked on swordsmanship, most of the men surpassed me quickly once they received proper training. And I was always one of the last in foot races.

I was frustrated, since as a child I had been on more equal footing with boys. Now they were far taller and stronger than I was. Their muscles had continued to develop, and despite my efforts, I could no longer make mine stronger than theirs. By bedtime each day, my arms and legs ached so badly I had trouble sleeping although I was overcome with fatigue.

After the first few days of euphoria, my mood dropped. The sheer exhaustion drained my spirits. Training was more routine and less exciting than I had expected. On the surface all was well. I was treated with respect yet pushed hard to my limits.

I could not understand my moodiness. I had promised myself I would be tough, and I refused to complain. But sometimes when Chilagun shouted an order at me, my instinct was to shout back. I had to keep reminding myself that
I had achieved my highest dream. Coping with the reality of military training was much harder than dreaming of it.

Some days I didn’t perform as well as I knew I could, even in archery. When my arrow was far off target, I imagined the men laughing at me. This increased my anger at myself. When I tried to channel that rage into my performance, my arrows flew farther but did not hit center. I began to get headaches. Often I wished I could escape to a quiet place by the side of a lotus pond in the Khan’s garden in Xanadu.

I missed Marco. I thought of him often, especially at night, in the solitude of my room. When I looked up at the green trees, I thought of his eyes. A horse’s date red mane reminded me of his beard. One soldier had Marco’s deep laugh, and whenever I heard it, my head turned quickly. I was always disappointed to see the wrong face. I regretted my betrayal.

After dinner, the soldiers would sit in the cool night air, drinking
airag
and talking. Many expressed disappointment that they could not immediately join the main army in the final conquest of southern China. That would be the big victory.

The soldiers had heard rumors about the intelligence-gathering missions. They all assumed that my uncle Chimkin would lead a mission to the desert lands of the West. Abaji’s mission would be to the Southwest, to subdue the king of Burma and prepare for the invasion of India. Many men had heard that a battle against the king of Burma was likely. Most of the men wanted to join this mission, to have their first taste of war.

* * *

Early in the morning of the first of Tenth Moon, the leaves on the maple trees had begun to turn red. All three hundred of the recruits lined up in the same field where we had met a month earlier. Only sixty soldiers would be selected to go—thirty on each fact-finding mission. I stood with Suren in the front row, awaiting judgment.

Sergeant Chilagun read out the names of the thirty soldiers who had been selected to go with Prince Chimkin to the West. I held my breath, hoping I would not be among them. Suren expected to go with his father, but his name was not read. The men selected marched off behind Chilagun.

My name was not called. I sighed with relief. Perhaps my words to the Khan about Marco’s homeland had influenced this decision. But why had Suren not been selected? Maybe Chimkin wanted us both to stay in Khanbalik. Suren and I exchanged nervous looks.

General Abaji came forward to read the list of the thirty soldiers selected to go on the other mission, under his command. Again, I held my breath, this time hoping to hear my name. The first name read was that of Suren, son of Chimkin. He closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows with a relieved smile. But my name was not next. As Abaji read the rest of the list, I stiffened my back and reminded myself that I would do whatever I was assigned.

“Soldiers, follow me!” General Abaji said.

Suren started off, then turned as if expecting me to follow. “Emmajin!” Suren’s voice sounded incredulous. “Come on!”

I looked at him, not understanding. General Abaji had said my name, and I had been so certain I was not selected
that I had not even heard it. Not until Suren called me did I realize what had happened.

I would be going on the mission to southwest China, as a soldier. Even as I breathed out in relief, I wondered: Could I find a chance to say good-bye before Marco left? Even my happiest moments now had an edge, because I kept thinking of him.

T
en days later, when we left Khanbalik, I could barely contain my excitement. We were headed to Carajan, a mountainous region just this side of the border with Burma. Troops from Burma had been crossing the border and clashing with our Mongol soldiers, and the Mongol commander in Carajan had urged the Khan to send a much larger army. Abaji’s mission was to assess the gravity of the situation and make a recommendation to the Khan. We would need to invade and subdue Burma before moving on to the bigger prize, India. My fellow soldiers, especially the recruits, hoped we would have a chance to engage in battle with the Burmese. I had packed and repacked my bags for a six-month journey, but I did not feel ready.

When Suren and I reached the south gate, after saying good-bye to our families, fifty soldiers—thirty recruits plus twenty experienced soldiers—were rechecking their horse packs and getting ready to leave. Traveling with us would be
another twenty people: cooks, horse boys, servants. The supplies went on a caravan of pack mules tended by a group of mule boys. Everything seemed chaotic.

In the half-light of dawn, I heard horses whinnying, mules braying, pots clinking, men swearing, leather belts creaking. Clearly, the caravan would not be ready to depart at cock’s crow. I left Baatar in the area where the soldiers were assembling and ventured into the area where the mules were being loaded. What possessed me, I’m not sure. Maybe curiosity, maybe a premonition. There, among the mules and mule boys, was a foreigner rearranging his wares in heavy saddlebags on the side of a mule. He wore no hat, so I easily recognized the reddish curly hair. He was clearly swearing in some silvery foreign tongue that seemed familiar.

Marco Polo.

I stayed still, watching him until he turned slowly. A shock shot through my body as I saw the familiar face. What was he doing here?

He smiled coldly and bowed his head. “Emmajin Beki. You look different as a soldier. I had heard you were assigned to this mission.” His voice, so close, washed over me like cool water on a hot day. I had not expected to see him again.

“And
you
are assigned to this mission?” Why would a merchant, storyteller to the Great Khan, go on our reconnaissance mission?

“I am on assignment to the Great Khan.”

“Because of me?”

He laughed ruefully. “Not everything I do is related to you, Princess Emmajin. The nature of my duties is secret; only General Abaji knows.”

That piqued my curiosity. A foreigner who knew
something I was not allowed to know? “And your father and uncle?”

“They are to remain in Khanbalik. My uncle’s illness has returned.”

“I am sorry to hear it. I see your ankle has healed.”

He nodded. “Mongolian medicine. Your ways of treating broken bones are far superior to ours. The doctor massaged and pressed my leg and foot daily, and somehow the break is healed. It works better than my father’s prayer.”

“Perhaps you were cured by your father’s prayer.”

He laughed in spite of himself. I had missed hearing that sound.

A horn blasted, and I returned to formation.

My mind spun. What would it mean to travel with him? As delighted as I was to hear his voice, I dreaded his presence, a reminder of both how easily I had fallen for his charms and how bad I felt about betraying him. How could I focus on my duties as a soldier when Marco was nearby? Just being near him confused me and made me conscious of being a woman. I had worked hard to toughen myself into a soldier.

We rode out of the city’s south gate in formation, in full uniform, with helmets. A small crowd gathered along the roadside to watch us, just as I had done as a child. I scanned the crowds, hoping that my parents or sister would come to wish me farewell, but I did not see their faces. I held my head high, remembering the military parades I had watched.

In my sixteen years, I had never left Khanbalik heading south. As the houses grew farther apart, I felt increasing exhilaration at the unknowns of the journey ahead. We traveled southwest, along well-paved roads lined with willow
trees. It seemed a time of fresh beginnings. I resolved to maintain my soldierly demeanor around Marco.

Less than an hour outside the city gates, we came to a marble bridge over a large river. As we crossed it, I could see that Abaji and Marco had dismounted to examine the bridge. I wondered how the two of them had met. The bridge was exquisite, made of stone, with marble columns. Each column stood on a base shaped like a lion, and a second beautifully sculpted marble lion sat on top of each pillar, gazing at another lion across the road. There were hundreds of lions, and each was unique.