Chapter 1.7

Chapter 8

When she awoke again to the new day Lian realized that Ivo had already gotten up and was dressed. With her usual insight the girl perceived that the man had a distinct air on his face, as someone who has made up his mind.

"Is something wrong?" She asked with some uncertainty.

“No, nothing. Since last night I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Tell me what you want to know.”

"I noticed you have a rather peculiar spot on the junction between the neck and the right shoulder.”

“So it is. Is it unpleasant for you to see it?

“Not at all. Just…”

Ivo hesitated, knowing that his question would entangle him in dangerous ways.

"Tell me at once what happens to you."

"It's just that the stain is familiar to me ... but in a completely different context.”

"That" context "... Is it the neck of another woman?

Lian saw with a mixture of jealousy and amusement that Ivo stammered without knowing what to answer.

"I'll take those babbles like a yes."

"But you have not told me anything about the stain."

"You did not ask me anything."

The logic in the woman's responses permanently made the Italian stumble. He shook his head and Lian could read in his face that he was wondering why he had gotten into that mess. Resignedly the woman added.

"It is a hereditary stain, my paternal grandfather had it in the same place. Actually I doubt very much that the one you know is identical to this one because it is very rare and only exists in members of my family.” She stretched her neck in order to show the spot.

“ As you can see that it is very symmetrical, with strangely straight edges and has a perfect rhomboidal shape.”

"That's why it called my attention." The man answered. "The one I know is identical.”

At the edge of a jealous rage Lian tangled her foot in his leg and pulled him to the bed where she was still lying. The man let her do but when he placed his head on the pillow next to hers instead of the expected cuddles he asked again.

"Are you sure you're one hundred percent of Chinese descent?"

“What? Why you ask?”

"Do not answer my question with another question.”

"Well ... there were always rumors in my family that we have Mongolian ancestors… I already told you, now you tell me why you ask.”

"You're very tall compared to Chinese women. Are the Mongols tall?

“Not much. True, my father and grandfather are taller than the average Han. Satisfied?”

"You never told me anything about your family."

"You never asked me. And now you tell me. Who do you know that has a stain just like mine?”

Ivo looked embarrassed by the question but finally answered.

"The woman I've lived with in Venice. A lady of the aristocracy of the city.”

"And you think I descend from the Venetian nobility?" Asked ironically Lian. “Do I look Italian?”

"No," He frankly answered,

"Are you not looking only for women who have this exact stain?" The question had a playful tone.

"Actually I've also had some without marks."

Furious, Lian spread her leg over the man's torso and said in a feline tone.

-You know? Mongolian girls are known for devouring men.”

After a two-year stay in the oasis near Khotan, Chief Ganzorig decided to move the camp across the Kunlun Shan towards Tibet.

The Kunlun Mountain Range is one of the most extended in Asia, more than 3,000 kilometers long in an approximate west-east direction. It is born in the massif of Pamir and stretches eastward forming a natural border between the Chinese Xingiang to the north and the Tibetan plateau to the south while farther to the east lays the great Chinese plain.

Having exhausted the possibilities of feeding livestock in the narrow world of the oasis in the Taklamakan desert, Ganzorig had made the difficult decision to cross the Kunlun Mountains along the lower valleys and canyons during the summer in order to try his luck in Tibet. The fame of fierce warriors of the locals was not capable of intimidating a Mongol chief.

Enkhtuya was traveling in the heavy wagon, overcoming the discomforts of her new pregnancy, accompanying her one year old son who was startled by the blows of the wheels on the rocks of the road and wept frequently. The woman knew that it was the first emigration the child endured, but he was a Mongol, a son of a nomad horde chief and would surely one day replace his grandfather in the direction of the clan and therefore he should get accustomed to that way of life.

Cosimo rode on the side of the wagon and looked at it every so often, so that the child could see his father whom he resembled physically. However he had no illusions, for now the little child idolized his mother and his grandfather. In a moment Ganzorig put his horse side to side with the one of the Venetian. The chief used to walk the caravan back and forth as they were on their way to make sure everything was going well. He stretched out his hand and looked inside the wagon. The boy looked at him and smiled at Ivo's jealousy, while Enkhtuya ran a curtain of cloth to avoid the entrance of a draft of cold air. Ganzorig patted Ivo on the shoulder and extended to him one of his few smiles. The boss expected a scion of his favorite daughter every year and the foreigner was fulfilling his role so far. True, the old man would have preferred a Mongol of pure descent son-in-law, but his daughter made her own decisions and had chosen the tall, skinny foreigner with pale complexion and red hair.

Ganzorig wanted to approach Karakorum, the important city that played an important role in the economy, politics and commerce of those days. The chief's purpose was to participate in this prosperity in some way, whether as merchants, looters, or guardians as the opportunity arose. He knew that riches in gold and silver were difficult to access, but he had heard from Persian merchants that the Arabs were trying to introduce opium into China and that they used that route to do so. The uses of this precious product were not clear to Ganzorig, but apparently they were mainly medicinal, especially to maintain kid or life force and as an aphrodisiac for Chinese nobles, too accustomed to being surrounded by wives and concubines. Ganzorig boasted that he did not need such means and was grateful that his son-in-law did not need them either. In fact, Mongolian women, and in particular his daughter Enkhtaya, could turn men on more than opium or any brew.