Chapter 14

Pei Yao paused, then smiled. “Mind what you say. The princess is to marry the khagan. I am merely here to escort his bride.”

The Goguryeo man laughed. “A son inherits from his father. The khagan… is fifty-six this year, isn’t he?”

Pei Yao abruptly drew his saber. “Who are you to curse our Turkic khagan behind his back?”

The seemingly drunken men all sobered up. Each drew his own blade and faced Pei Yao.

Their leader wore the longest, brightest feathers on his cap and looked the least concerned. With a careless smile, he pushed Pei Yao’s saber aside and approached. Leaning close, he asked pleasantly, “Heyan, are you truly content with that?”

Pei Yao narrowed his eyes.

They exchanged a look and sheathed their weapons in unspoken understanding. The others slowly put away their blades too.

Then Pei Yao and the man went off with their arms about each other’s shoulders. Two guards dressed as Turks took charge of me and escorted me back to Pei Yao’s tent.

Once there, I slipped out again when no one was looking. At the edge of the camp, I could see a town in the distance.

It was not large, but its walls were extremely high. Ragged refugee tents crowded the ground outside.

I was committing the scene to memory when an angry shout came from behind. The soldiers on watch had seen me and rushed over to drive me away. I took to my heels. They followed at an unhurried pace, plainly enjoying a game of cat and mouse.

Twisting and turning, I nearly circled the whole camp. Just as I was gasping for breath, I ran into a hard chest. Looking up, I found Pei Yao’s face dark and still as deep water. He seized my hair and asked coldly, “Where were you planning to go, my Zhuzhu’er?”

I pretended to be beside myself with humiliation and fury, punching and kicking him. He suddenly threw me over his shoulder and strode away.

The moment he tossed me into the tent, I began screaming again with practiced ease.

I was getting thoroughly carried away when Pei Yao’s expression began to contort. After a long struggle, he finally burst out laughing and whispered at my ear, “Zhuzhu’er, aren’t you a little early? I haven’t even begun questioning you.”

I stopped short, my face burning. Then he tickled me mercilessly until I was laughing and crying at once.

After a while he let me go and began striking the pole again, making a show of furious anger. As he did, he asked, “Have you learned your way around?”

I nodded, shouting that I would confess nothing while taking a small piece of paper from inside my clothes. With my little charcoal stick, I quickly outlined the camp, marked the directions, and circled the granaries, sentry posts, and troop positions I had seen.

Delight flashed across his face. He secretly gave me a thumbs-up, then put on an angry expression and shouted, “My Zhuzhu’er is a stubborn one!”

Annoyed, I punched him, then tickled him in return. We began fooling around again until both our faces were crimson. Finally we went to sleep in each other’s arms, still wearing our thick clothes.

Before we slept, he told me that he had spent the day plotting a rebellion with the Goguryeo leader, Yeon Namdon, nephew of the powerful minister Yeon Gaesomun. Namdon wanted to seize the throne. Pei Yao had claimed that he, too, harbored ambitions against the khagan. They would join forces: “Ashina Heyan” would first send troops to help Namdon take Pyongyang, then Namdon would help him kill the khagan.

The next step in their conspiracy was to use the journey into Pyongyang to fetch the Goguryeo princess for the khagan as their opportunity to strike.

During the night, someone seemed to lift the flap and slip inside. I opened my eyes but could see no one. Pei Yao, alert as ever, called Sanbing’s name. An immediate answer came, and at last I dimly made out a pair of white crescents.

I had to admit, Sanbing’s teeth were extraordinarily white.

Pei Yao beckoned him close, whispered a few instructions, handed him my rough map, and sent him away.

By early the next morning, Sanbing had stolen back the drawings. I breathed a great sigh of relief and stitched them inside my clothes.

For the next few days, we staged our daily battles of love and hate. The entire camp treated our chases and quarrels as entertainment, marveling at them and savoring every detail.

Only one of Yeon Namdon’s servants behaved differently.

He appeared to believe our performance. He even gave me gold beads and urged me to flee while “Ashina Heyan” was in Pyongyang.