Daughter of Xanadu - Dori Jones Yang [24]
Temur faced him and deflected a blow before both sword tips dropped to the ground. Fortunately, both swords were wrapped in cloth. Still, two heavy swords in the hands of untrained boys looked like trouble.
I felt wildly jealous. While all Mongol boys and girls learned archery from a young age, women were never permitted to handle swords. No one would ever train me in swordsmanship. This was my only chance. “May I try? Please?” I asked.
“No,” Suren said, heaving to catch his breath, looking embarrassed. Suren usually gave in to my pleading, but I should have known he would not do so in front of Temur.
But he was eager to show off what he had learned at his first lesson. “You need to hold it with two hands at first. You’re probably not strong enough.”
I bit my tongue to keep from responding. He needed time to gain back his dignity after losing the archery contest.
Drawing attention to himself, Temur grasped his sword with two hands, lifted it high, and plunged it straight down, into the soft earth. This was the simplest move with a sword, the easiest to control. It looked like he was killing a wounded enemy.
I laughed. “One less foreigner to fight!”
Suren laughed, too. “Don’t tell anyone, but the Khan has assigned me to get to know a foreigner, to learn about his homeland. Temur has one, too. Do you believe that?”
“Interesting,” I said. Suddenly, it seemed more of an honor, this assignment. I straightened my shoulders. “He assigned me a foreigner, too.”
Temur sucked in his breath. “That can’t be.”
Suren looked at me strangely. “He wants you to speak to a foreigner? A man?”
“A young man. At first it was supposed to be three men, but the other two did not come to Xanadu because they are sick.”
Suren cocked his head. “The Khan said that this would help us prepare to join the army. It doesn’t make sense that he would ask you to do it.”
Hope jumped up in my heart. Maybe the Khan was preparing me to join the army, as well. “Who is your foreigner?” I asked, glad to be on equal footing with them.
Suren lay the sword down and wiped his forehead. He sat on the ground. “He looks so strange. Wears a white turban on his head, with a long tail of cloth hanging down his back. From Arabia. Big thick beard. Eyes a strange light brown.”
“My foreigner has green eyes,” I said proudly, sitting next to my cousin. “And his hair is brown but shines red like fire in the sunlight. No turban, though.”
“Temur’s foreigner has a turban, too. He’s Bactrian. Fierce-looking.”
Temur was still standing, leaning on his sword, regarding us from above.
“These foreigners,” said Suren. “What can we possibly learn from them?”
“I told you,” said Temur. “The Khan wants us to keep an eye on them.”
Suren looked thoughtful. “But others are better suited to getting information from them. Maybe he wants to make sure we can resist foreigners even after talking to them.”
“Resist? Hah!” Temur shook his head in disbelief. “Their countries are too weak to face us in battle, so they come here, begging favors and spying on us. They keep trying to weaken our resolve to fight. I can’t wait till the Khan bans them from court.”
Suren frowned. “Bans them? The Khan would never do that.”
“You haven’t heard? Some men at court want to get rid of the foreigners,” Temur said. “Several of the princes and military leaders are starting an antiforeign movement, trying to convince the Khan that their presence at court is dangerous.”
Suren frowned. “How can foreigners be dangerous if they are weak?”
“They are clever. They write in strange script and send our secrets back to their homelands. They manipulate people. The movement is seeking evidence of treachery.”
I had never heard of this antiforeign movement. I wondered if Temur was exaggerating. Still, I realized I knew little about the many factions at court.
Suren shook his head. “My foreigner seems friendly enough.”
“Of course, they all do,” Temur said. “Don’t get taken in. They want you to forget about loyalty. We have to show how strong we are—not just our arms but our minds.”
This idea