She put her hand against his chest and stopped him. “You should,” she said. “By teaching me.” She smiled at his expression. Clearly he had been thinking something else had been planned for tonight. “Remember? We made a deal. I help you; you teach me to fight.”
Gansukh frowned at her hand on his chest. “Yes,” he said. “We did.”
Lian was pleased that he didn’t try to deny making the deal. She hadn’t brought it up since that first day in the bath. It had been a dangerous proposition, one that could have gotten her killed had Gansukh been more inflexible in his ways. But Master Chucai had said the young man had promise, that he seemed to be able to think for himself and had confidence in the decisions he made. As long as he trusted her, she could trust him; while she had that trust, there were some skills she could stand to learn.
She wasn’t going to stay here forever.
“But you weren’t planning on training like that, were you?” Gansukh gestured at her green silk robes—much finer than the one she wore earlier in the day. “Tie your hair back, at least.”
She gathered it up—slowly, knowing he was watching her—and wound it into a bun.
“What?” he asked, some irritation creeping into his voice.
“I need something to hold it in place,” she pointed out.
Exasperated, he grabbed a willow branch and snapped off a long piece. With a jerk, he stripped the leaves from it and held out the thin stick. “Will this do?”
She smiled and took the offered twig. She slid it into place without a word.
Gansukh admired her. “You’re too small,” he noted, and as she drew breath to object, he continued. “Until you get a little more muscle, I don’t think you’re going to beat anybody in hand-to-hand combat. If it comes to that, you don’t have a chance. We need to try something else.” He stepped out of the confines of the tree and scanned the garden grounds. “Yes,” he said when he spotted a pair of guards. “Wait here.”
Before she could object, he hurried off. He called to the guards, getting their attention, and they came together, their heads bent toward Gansukh as he launched into some complicated story. Somewhat curious, she stepped forward so as to better see what the three men were talking about, and when Gansukh paused and the two men looked in her direction, she realized she was standing out in the open.
The guards laughed, and one of them handed Gansukh his bow and quiver before slapping the young man on the back. Saluting them with the weapon, Gansukh trotted back to Lian. “Come,” he said, handing her the quiver to carry. “Let’s go over by the wall. There will be less distractions.” He looked back over his shoulder and waved at the guards as they walked off the path.
“What did you tell them?” Lian wanted to know.
“They’re Khevtuul,” Gansukh said.
“Yes, I know that.” The Khevtuul were the imperial Night Guard, the ones who watched over the Khagan while he slept. “What did you tell them?”
“Munokhoi is Torguud. Day Guard.” He grinned at her. “You said it yourself. People like to talk at court. Word has gotten around already.”
She stared at him, amazed at what she was hearing. He shrugged, misinterpreting her look. “I told them I wanted to show you my bow, but as I had left it in my chamber, I was in danger of losing face to a pretty woman. I asked if they could lend me one.” He hefted the weapon. “They were happy to be of assistance.”
He slowed, glancing around at the open space they had wandered into. “Plus,” he noted, “they’ll leave us alone, thinking that we’re…”
Lian nodded, trying her best not to smile. “Engaged in an archery lesson,” she finished for him, arching an eyebrow. Yes, she thought, Master Chucai was right. He does have promise.
Gansukh blushed. He took the quiver from her and gave her the bow instead. “Try it,” he said gruffly, embarrassed now.
She lifted the weapon and put her left hand on the grip. She drew the string back and let it go with a faint twang.
“Not like that.” Gansukh moved behind her and touched her shoulders lightly—pulling them back, adjusting her stance. “Arm all the way out. Point your knuckle at the target. Now draw back across your body.” He brought her elbow back slowly, guiding her arm. “Same thing with this hand, knuckle at the target.” Her body turned slightly under his guidance until she was pointed toward a stand of aspen trees, their pale trunks glowing in the late-afternoon light.
He stepped back and she let go of the string, feeling a difference in the motion. “I feel it,” she said.