Daughter of Xanadu - Dori Jones Yang [96]
On low tables displayed before the Khan were the trappings of Chinese imperial power, seized after the occupation of their capital, Kinsay. Jewel-encrusted crowns, imperial robes, jade tablets of authority, jewelry, and other treasures were piled high. Most precious was the Sung dynasty’s official seal, a block of jade adorned with the carving of a dragon, which the Empress Dowager had submitted to General Bayan the day our troops entered Kinsay, as the symbol of her surrender.
A man’s voice rang out: “Kowtow to your ruler, the Great Khan Khubilai, founder of the Yuan dynasty, Son of Heaven!”
Behind the princes, I stood on the tips of my toes to see the three of them fall to their knees and drop their foreheads to the ground. This act showed their humble submission to the Great Khan. It was the ultimate symbol that they accepted him as rightful ruler of all China.
Then they stood up. The grandmother struggled to stand, leaning on her cane. They kowtowed again, then a third time. It was painful to watch the elder empress. She had shown bravery by refusing to abandon the capital even when her counselors had advised that she take the imperial family and flee to the South.
At the third kowtow, the three of them, grandmother, mother, and boy, remained with their foreheads to the stone floor.
The Great Khan held the power of life or death over them. With one word, he could order their execution, a public beheading.
The Khan remained seated, high on his throne. His voice rang out, loud and clear. “The Sung dynasty has come to an end. Our Yuan dynasty, which I declared five years ago, has inherited the mandate of Heaven.”
All those present broke out in cheers. “Long live the Khan of all Khans!”
From the crowd, I sought out the round face of Empress Chabi. She was seated next to the Great Khan. Her face was somber. She did not cheer. So I did not, either. Had she been able to convince her husband to change his mind?
The Khan raised his hand to quiet his men. “Rise!” he commanded.
The three stood up and faced him.
How would it feel, I thought, to know that you would die before sundown? The grandmother seemed resigned, the boy confused. I could see raw terror on the beautiful face of the young mother, whose lip quivered.
“Boy, step forward.”
The child looked at his mother, then stepped toward the Khan of all Khans.
“You can no longer call yourself an emperor. But henceforth you shall be known as the duke of Ying.”
A murmur of surprise rose from the sons as the words were translated into Chinese for the prisoners. Not only would there be no execution, but the Khan was prepared to treat these people as royalty. Temur seemed especially agitated.
“You may keep your servants that you brought north with you. You may not return to Kinsay, ever. I will provide residences for you, here in Khanbalik.”
As the translation rang out, the young mother shut her eyes as if in relief. Her dynasty was dead, but she would live, as would her child.
The Khan continued. “I hereby grant pardons to all your officials who submitted to our rule. We will treat your scholars with respect. We will provide support to southern China’s widows, orphans, and childless elderly. Our troops will not plunder your cities or your land. These are now our cities, our land. We will bring prosperity back to them after years of war.”
The murmurs stopped. The Khan had stated his will, and no one could openly oppose it. Clearly, the Khan wanted his sons and grandsons to witness his benevolence and generosity. I wondered if any of them knew that his wife had convinced him to make this decision. Perhaps he would now be known as Khubilai Sechen, Khubilai the Wise.
But what of my fate? Would the Khan be generous with me? Since my talk with Empress Chabi, I had been formulating a plan. Finally, I knew