Daughter of Xanadu - Dori Jones Yang [47]
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 pass 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. 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 noblemen and sons of high commanders. The rest were chosen on a competitive 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