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“I mean no harm,” Marco said. “You are always safe with me. I am a merchant, not a knight. A teller of tales. I hope I did not offend you.”

“You should not …,” I began. It took a moment to get my voice back. His eyebrows rose. “You should never, never tell such a story to the Great Khan.”

Marco guffawed.

“If you did, he would …” I did not want to continue. He would not trust you to spend time alone with me, ever again, I thought. Did I trust Marco?

If Marco thought, for even one moment, that he could love me, a princess of the Khan’s family, he was making a terrible mistake. A dangerous mistake. A daring, delicious mistake. No, I would have to be firm with him. I was not a lady giving her scarf to a warrior. I was preparing to be a warrior myself.

This conversation had gone too far.

I took off, running.

Marco ran behind me, through the tall grasses speckled with wildflowers. We were like two children, racing across the meadow. I was much more comfortable moving.

Marco caught up with me, ran alongside me, then sprinted ahead. I was surprised to see that he could run so fast. Here was one physical activity at which he excelled.

I veered off toward a little hilltop I knew about, and he followed me up. This hill was a berm, part of the outer defenses of Xanadu. At a strategic spot on it stood a heap of stones, taller than I was. I stopped when I reached the cairn.

“What is this?” Marco regarded the heap with curiosity.

“An ovoo,” I told him. “It marks a sacred place.” Mixed in with the rocks were blue and white scarves that travelers had left there, to show their respect. “See? You pick up a stone from the ground and circle the ovoo three times, making a wish. Then you toss the stone onto the pile.”

I picked up a nearby stone and began walking to my left around the ovoo. Marco did the same, following me. He remained quiet, respecting our custom.

After three times around, I stopped, repeated my wish inside my head, and tossed my stone onto the heap. Marco did the same.

“What was your wish?” I asked him.

Marco’s grin was lopsided. “Should I tell you?”

“Yes!”

“I wished that you would not join the Khan’s army.”

His wish surprised me. “Why?”

He twisted his mouth. “You could be killed.”

I laughed. “That’s what makes it exciting.”

He shook his head. “I don’t like this warfare business. Too much blood. Soldiers are trained to kill. Surely you wouldn’t want …”

My irritation returned. “Yes, I would. The most highly regarded men are the finest warriors. They are the noble ones who make a difference in the world.”

“Ah, yes, sorry. We have it upside down in Venezia.”

“Upside down?”

“The noble men become senators, to help govern the city. They get an education. Some buy ships or go off to trade, to bring back precious goods that make life more comfortable. Not as noble as invading countries.”

It seemed he was mocking me and my desires and my people, but in such a lighthearted way it was hard to take offense.

“The young men don’t wish to train to become warriors?” I asked.

“You saw how slow I was with my dagger!” He laughed. “No, most wealthy young men aspire to go to sea, to take part in trade. But it’s not just to gain wealth. We travel to other countries, learn foreign languages, try to understand other people. It’s an appealing life, one of adventure. In my homeland, this is considered noble work.”

Upside down was right. Who would aspire to go to sea?

Marco grew serious. “Everyone suffers during wars. We traders like stability. During times of peace, we can trade with countries that are far away. This is why I admire your Great Khan. Although your armies are still fighting in China, he has established peace for thousands of miles between here and my homeland. When my father was my age, a Latin could not safely travel this far. We traders prefer peace.”

“Peace!” I nearly spit. “The only way you can make peace is through conquest. And the only way to keep it is to suppress rebels and bandits, by force.”

“True.” Marco smiled. “But I can’t help