"This is the Bay of Bohai," said Kidlat, Captain of the Luntian, gesturing toward the horizon. "We are now officially in Xina".

  "I've never seen so many kinds of sea vessels," Urduja replied, scanning the crowded waters.

  "It is heavy traffic. We must go single file up the Duliujian River," Kidlat Captain of her Balangay Luntian informed her. "It will be another day before we reach Xanadu."

  Many had come for the Khuriltai of Khublai Khan. The river was a moving city of sails and oars.

  "Those boats there," Kidlat pointed, "are Goryeon boats. Narrow. A good size for sailing up rivers, but for long expeditions? Nothing beats an outrigger." He nodded toward another cluster of ships cutting through the current. "And those—also outriggered—are the Medang!"

  "The Paraluman is on board! Wave at them! They are our cousins!" Tala cried out, jumping up and down, waving frantically. "Look! They are signaling back!"

  "Aye," said Kidlat with a smile. "The Queen's Guard of the Tawalesi are trained at Medang. We must hazard crossing the Kalaliman alone, mastering weaponry and hand-to-hand combat, defending your ranking in combat, before crossing back on a small proa alone. Likewise, all the master shipbuilders of the Sunda consult the Tawalesi designers. The Likha. That one, designed by Tanda, called a Karakoa. It’s big. Multi-tiered. As you can see. You can mount a cannon on board. Built for war mainly.

  Urduja watched the sister ships with pride. The Sunda and the Tawalesi were cousins; they were all Austronesians. Even as they had their own political orders, culturally they were cut from the same cloth—language, outriggers, and martial techniques bound them. But over the centuries, the Medang had become a rice culture, carving terraces into the mountains that were superior even to those of Xina.

  "Beyond broken Sunda is Sahul," Kidlat added quietly. "And only dragons live there."

  “Why do the Medang keep fighting?” Urduja asks

  “Honor, glory. The only reason we don’t fight is because we live so far from everyone and we have nothing anybody wants”. Kidlat says

  “I thought it’s because we can’t fight but we can sail away”. Uddiawan adds

  “That is true too.” Kidlat nodding at Uddiawan. He turned his attention to a battered, heavy vessel. "And that is a Sindhu delegation."

  "What are those Shaivites doing here? I can't imagine they received an invitation to the Khuriltai," asked Liwanag.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "They indiscriminately invite everyone," Uddiawan averred with a sniff.

  "That ship has been through a lot," Kidlat said, lowering his voice. "That is Dusshela from Dwarka. Can you believe she was married to five men?"

  "Five men?!" Urduja, Tala, and Liwanag blurted out in unison.

  "Yes. Five brothers, all princes. Malicious Kaurvin cousins burned them all alive at the Varanaya Palace. They were all Vedics," Kidlat explained grimly. "Dusshela escaped, but the entire Patnava clan burned. Now her cousins who are Shaivites say she must burn too. Suttee. But she vows to avenge her clan first before she submits to the fire."

  "She's not just seeking sanctuary, then," Uddiawan mused. "She's out for revenge. Does she believe Khan will listen to her plight?"

  "It's not Khan she's here to see. She's here for Crown Prince Zhenjin," said Urduja.

  "He rescues another Royal in distress," Uddiawan stated cynically. "If he is going to provide sanctuary for all women in distress, Xanadu will be overrun by women.”

  ”Rich Widows. They only wanna burn rich widows”, says Urduja

  "Is Zhenjin handsome? He must be! And dashing!" The ladies let out a collective sigh, their cynicism momentarily forgotten.

  ——————————-

  Deep within the Forbidden City, far from the laughter on the river, the mood was very different.

  The five Temple Masters, their monks, their adepts, and their disciples were buried in the details of the coming Khuriltai. On the desk of Temple Master Tengur, the weight of the empire sat in a stack of paper. All the official delegations had sent their confirmations—documents that also included their requests from the Khannate. Trade agreements, military aid, marriage proposals for the Crown Prince... all these matters passed through Master Tengur's hands.

  Master Tenger worked tirelessly. He loved his job because he loved his Khan.

  Old Master Tenger had fallen in love with Khublai when he first beheld him, and he had remained in that entranced state ever since. He longed for the Khan, but since his youth, he had taken vows of chastity, poverty, and silence. Service was the only place he could sublimate his intense desires. Besides, he was a Eunuch—a celebrated member of an elite unit. Thirty years later, that desire had transfigured into something else: a test he had passed.

  And that deep love he had for Khan? Well, Tenger drove grain production up. He made Khan a very wealthy man. And he kept the ultimate secret: Khan had no Heavenly Mandate. Khan was not nominated or elected by the Xinese People. Tenger had rigged the election.

  Tenger had manufactured everything.

  Late the next day, the ships finally docked.

  The Mutya and her entourage were met by monks as the Queen's balangay were parked within the walls of the Forbidden City. Udayan requested her men stay on board while she, Urduja, their handmaidens, and Gng Alda, Udayan's trade minister and master spy Silahis disembarked.

  They were escorted to a pavilion built specifically for them. Tourists and businesses men from all kingdoms and independent prefectures crowded the streets of Xanadu, but at the Forbidden City—that walled city center within a walled city—that enclave within an enclave within an enclave remained closed to all, only the official delegations, representatives of heads of state, titled royalty were housed within. .

  The city of DaDu itself was flooded with guests from all the independent kingdoms of Asia. This year, even Queen Shima of Jeppara had sent the Paraluman, the next in line to the PutriRani Shima herself.

  Khublai had planned the most extravagant fireworks for all to see.

  The guest pavilions were large, airy, and well-equipped, stretching out over the hill. Between the structures lay manicured gardens with lush lawns and flowers, while wine and food poured endlessly from the palace kitchens.