One Night in Xanadu

Chapter 02 - A Gift, That Was All I Was

"Keep your people's ways to yourself, Han." I had scorned Jiang Shunfu when he had thought to place me in a tent identical to his own on that first night, with guards at every corner as if he feared that his companions would kill him in his sleep. What use were those guards then? Who did he distrust? I knew not, and I cared not.

I had laughed in his face as I displayed my trust in my escort from the very first, placing my bedroll alongside the warriors who now guarded me as my father's warriors had once guarded me. Sleeping on the ground as they did, warmed by the bodies of the men to either side of me for I was no Han, unused to hardship. Brushing the frost or the early snow from my covering in the morning, for winter was closing in now.

Out there on the great grasslands, my people, the Hu, the Hun, the Hunnu, the Xiongnu, call them what you will, they would be camped in sheltered valleys, feasting, singing our songs of courage and victory and glorious death in raids and in battle and of the stealing of Mongol and Tatar women and of the feuds that had gone on for generation after generation.

None here would have the temerity to attempt my virtue, close to them as I lay, for I was gifted to the Khagan. It would not have mattered if any had made the attempt. My knife would have ripped the throat out of any who attempted such an act, as I had ripped the throat from men of my own people before for such offences against me, smiling as their blood spurted onto the grass while my father laughed and praised his only daughter's skill with weapons. My brother had had good reason to dispatch me thus, for assuredly his blood would very soon have fertilized the grasslands if I had remained with my people.

The Captain of Five Hundred had chuckled at Jiang Shunfu's outraged protests. Chuckled, and silenced him with a look and a hand to the hilt of his sword, for all knew who were the masters and who were the servants in this great Khanate of the Khagan's. The Captain of Five Hundred knew well that no warrior of his would dare touch me, for I was gifted to the Khagan, whether the Khagan knew or not; and I would come to the Khagan with my virtue intact.

I had laughed at that Han woman who thought he was a man as I rode my horse through the autumn snow, scorning the meals that the Han's cook prepared. Instead, I took my food from the iron pots my guards shared, eating as they ate, drinking milk, hot and fresh from the teats of the mares, guided to my mouth by my own hands, drinking mare's blood, thin and hot and fresh, my lips pressed to the pulsing neck vein as I sucked at the nourishing blood, staining my lips redder than any artifice those fragile and timid Han girls used to tempt men.

Smiling with those reddened lips at Jiang Shunfu, smiling as he recoiled in horror, smiling as I tore at the dried meat with my pearl white teeth while we rode, and in the evenings I wrestled with the men, as I had wrestled with my father's warriors. Never did I win, for they were men and they were warriors; but often I forced them to exert all their strength and skill before I was defeated; and the Captain of Five Hundred oft silenced Jiang Shunfu's incessant whining with a single gesture of his hand when his voice was raised yet again in protest.

"This must stop, it is unseemly for this woman to fight men."

This as I gave Arslan a butt to his nose with my forehead that had the hot blood spurting onto my face and his, and in this I had an advantage, for none of these warriors would risk the wrath of their Captain or of the Great Khan by inflicting permanent damage on me. An advantage that I shamelessly used, and they knew it.

They knew it, and they knew that I knew, and they laughed, for my bravery and my skill and deceit at the wrestling and my skill and unerring speed and accuracy with the sword and at the archery won their admiration. Their admiration, but not their loyalty. They would kill me in a moment if the Captain of Five Hundred ordered it so, for these men were hand-picked men of the Khagan's, loyal only to him. Loyal by blood and by oaths sworn; but I, I was gifted to the Khagan, the Great Khan, and their duty for now was to guard me. I had their admiration, they knew their duty well, and I was as safe with them as their own sisters would have been. Safer perhaps than their sisters, for they were, after all, Mongols.

"She is of the Hunnu, the Hu, the Xiongnu, the People of the Wolf, Han." The Captain of Five Hundred deigned to respond. "She is of the Xiongnu, she is trained as all the Xiongnu women are, to fight as a warrior would fight, and she is a gift to the Khagan. We will deliver her to the Khagan as she is," and the Captain was smiling as I took Arslan with a kick to the head that staggered him backwards and a second that almost took him down.

He recovered, he closed with a sudden rush, ignoring my knee and elbow strikes as I attempted to strike him to the ground where I should have danced backwards, and I cursed myself for my overconfidence when he grappled with me even as I doubled him over with a knee strike to his guts and an elbow to the back of his head. Despite those blows, he managed to fling me to the ground so that the blood burst from my own nose and I saw the stars even though the darkness of night had not yet fallen on the great grasslands.

"I give you best, Arslan," I groaned, lying there watching the stars circle as he pushed himself to his hands and knees while I still lay there and he took my hand and pulled me to my feet and almost I fell and I would have had he not supported me.

"Almost she took you, Arslan," Basan laughed, standing, taking my other arm. "Sit here, Princess." For these Mongol warriors, they gave me honor and respect where the Han did not. "A bucket of water is coming. The shaman brings the tea for the bleeding."

"Unseemly," Jiang Shunfu hissed, making no pretense that his words were not meant to be heard and my sword hand itched to hew his ugly head from his scrawny shoulders.

* * *

And so the days and the weeks had passed, riding, always riding, east towards this fabled Xanadu of the Khagan's. Now I was here at last. Seated on my great black stallion, gazing at the stone walls of this Xanadu. The sun was low in the sky, a great red ball of fire sinking towards the distant horizon and those walls of stone now loomed before my eyes, my long journey nigh over and once through those gates, I would be fortunate ever to leave.

My heart quailed, my anger at my fate grew, and before me, his gelding blocking my path, Jiang Shunfu was insistent. No doubt he felt that here, at the very gates of Xanadu, about to enter the city of the Khagan, the man to whom my brother had given me as a gift, whose concubine I was destined to be, he could force his will on me where he could not do so on the endless steppe.

"Dismount and seat yourself in your palanquin, woman." He raised his voice as none but my father had ever dared raise their voice to me. "Or I will have you punished."

He smiled and that smile was that same smile worn by a thousand such Han emissaries as they worked their sly tricks on my people. As they worked their "diplomacy," playing one tribe, one clan against the other. As this Jiang Shunfu had played my brother for a fool. Or perhaps not.

Perhaps he was aware of the danger I represented, but if he was, then more fool him for threatening me here and now where I sat Aranjagaan still with spear in my hand, sword at my waist, bow in its bow case slung from my saddle, for no man other than my father or my husband would punish me, and the cold anger rose within me for there would be no husband now.

A gift, that was all I was.

A gift, I was destined to be a mere concubine. That was what I was and this Jiang Shunfu, if I could not have my brother's head, I could have his.

My Mongol escort sat their horses impassively, their commander, the Captain of Five Hundred, saying not a word, sitting unblinking as his eyes met mine and there was no clue there as to his thoughts for he wore the cold face and perhaps that was a clue in itself. Perhaps. Dare I? I looked at Jiang Shunfu, considering him, and then I spat on the ground at the feet of his horse.

A horse? A gelding. A horse for a slave-woman, or a man who was a woman.

A sham of a horse for a sham of a man such as this Jiang Shunfu was.

"I am the daughter of the Chanyu of the Xiongnu. I am to be concubine to the Khagan. I am not to be commanded by some effete Han whose hands have never held a sword or a spear or drawn a bow."

"Woman, you are about to enter Xanadu. You will do as you are commanded, or it will be the worse for you."

I shrugged. The Captain of Five Hundred watched, unblinking, waiting, but I knew these Mongols. In the past my people had fought them and often we had defeated them, as at times they had defeated us in the raids and warfare of the steppe tribes. Now we were ruled by them, but this Captain, he and I we knew each other, as we both knew the Han, and I was no Han. I was no servant to be commanded by this woman in men's clothing. This rider of a gelded horse that a child of the Xiongnu would be ashamed to be seen on.