Daughter of Xanadu - Dori Jones Yang [64]
The thin air of Tibet, and the magical quality of that village, distorted my thinking. I knew very well that a closer friendship with Marco could destroy my standing in the military. Yet I was not thinking about that. Right then I just wanted to be alone with Marco.
The moon was as large and clear as I had ever seen it, a brilliant silvery white, with patterns visible on its pale face. Its light made the landscape glow with an otherworldly clarity. I walked upstream, around a bend, where the huts of the village were just out of sight. I could not even smell the smoke from the wood fires in the village. I wondered briefly about wild creatures, remembering the gleam of the big cat’s eyes. But I pushed aside all thoughts of dread and safety.
I leaned back against a boulder and stared at the stream, which reflected a moon that bobbed and changed shape with the rushing water. The Tibet sky, I noticed, had twice as many stars as ours, and each shone more brilliantly than those we saw at home.
I heard footsteps behind me. I sensed the fragrance of spices before I saw him. Somehow, I had known that Marco would come.
He, too, was wrapped in a thick coat and walked with his hands tucked under his arms. He still favored his left arm, though it was no longer in a sling. With his fur-lined hat, he could have passed for a Mongol, but I recognized his step.
Marco stopped when he saw me, then approached wordlessly. He leaned against the same boulder, an arm’s length away. It seemed that he, too, had been looking for a way for us to talk alone. We had more to say than we could put into words.
I broke the silence. “Surely the stars are not this brilliant in Venezia?”
He looked above us and soaked up the spectacle. “I have never seen them so brilliant. This land is blessed.” I could see his breath as he spoke.
There was comfort and familiarity between us, but also a pulsating tension.
“Marco, tell me. Why did you come on this journey?”
“I swore to your Great Khan that I would tell no one, except Abaji. But it will become clear soon enough, once we arrive in Carajan.”
“You can tell me.”
“I am loyal only to the Great Khan.” He was lightly mocking my own protestations of loyalty that day in the garden.
“You know I would not betray you,” I said, echoing his tone.
He cocked his head but did not mention that I had already betrayed him once. I smiled reassurance, and he chose to trust me. “There is a medicine, in Carajan, which is powerful enough to heal the illness that afflicts the Great Khan’s feet. To cure gout.”
I smiled. Clever Marco. He had figured out a way to make the Khan grateful to him. “And he has sent you to purchase it? You will heal our Great Khan?”
He laughed in that familiar way. “It is made from the gall of a dragon.”
I thought he had mispronounced a word. “A dragon? You told me once they were mythical creatures. Superstitious people, you said, think they breathe fire.”
He smiled a delicious smile. “In Carajan, in the mountains of southwest China, dwells a creature men call a serpent. In fact, it is not a serpent but a kind of dragon. One that does not breathe fire. The medicine comes from its gallbladder.”
“And how will you obtain this medicine?”
“They sell it in the markets of Carajan.”
“The Great Khan could have any man buy this medicine and send it back. One of his most trusted generals is governor of Carajan.”
“He asked me to capture a dragon and bring it back to Khanbalik alive, so he can have a continual supply.”
I laughed. “Even I know you cannot milk gall from an animal. You have to kill the animal to get it. You will need at least one male and one female, to reproduce. I cannot imagine how you would transport two dragons back to Khanbalik.”
He paused. “Will you help me?”
“Capture a dragon, with rows of teeth in its jaws?”
“Yes, but without slaying it.”
I laughed again. “I can think of nothing I’d rather do.”
“Tell no one.”
So this was the secret he