The opponent threw his arms up in the air and grandstanded for a moment. Zerleg reached up for assistance and the victor scoffed and walked away. I’d seen that look on the face of many a bully over my lifetime (and fortunately, I’d been able to kill a few). Yalta helped his grandson up and patted him on the back as they walked off the playing field. The boy looked miserable, but as his grandfather and coach kept whispering in his ear, he finally broke into a sad smile. This was his first match. He did very well.
I joined in congratulating him and his spirits seemed to rise. Although I don’t think that was as much because of me and his family as the cluster of giggling teenage girls waving at him from across the field. Within moments he had put on his deel and was walking over to them. I had to smile. He may have lost the game, but some of his poetry would likely score him some points today.
The other matches were equally as tense and no less dramatic. By the time the fourth contest ended, I realized I needed to take my eyes off the field and focus on my own upcoming competition. I sat down on a blanket with Sansar-Huu’s wife, Odgerel, and closed my eyes. My thoughts were devoted exclusively to all that I had seen today and what Yalta had taught me. The sounds around me were tuned out until it was just me picturing how it would or could go down.
“Coney!” Chudruk shook me. “It is your turn.” He led me to the field, to where my zazul, Yalta, stood quietly. I turned only to see who my competitor was. It was the bully who’d defeated Zerleg. As I began my eagle dance, I pictured what I had seen him do before. He was my size and weight. It would be more evenly matched than it was with the boy. But this man had experience I didn’t.
My dance ended, I crossed the field to my opponent and slapped my thighs. He grinned and did the same. Our contest had begun.
I had decided that I wouldn’t walk around him but immediately make the first move, which I did, grabbing him by the shoulders. He gripped mine with hands that felt like steel, matching my strength. Jesus. What do they feed these guys? Is it the soup?
We strained against each other, our heads looking down at our legs for an opening…a sign of weakness. Sweat made it difficult to hold on, but I didn’t give in. My fingers and arms burned, but I knew that if I eased up in the slightest bit, it would be all over. And that’s when I knew that this was going to be much harder than I ever imagined.
And I thought this was a good idea…why?
CHAPTER NINE
Luther: “Warriors, co-u-me out to play-i-ay.”
- The Warriors
I gritted my teeth, which hurt, by the way. It felt like I was going up against a steel beam, which also seemed silly. Now I understood why my training involved wrestling with boulders. This was damn near the same thing.
My opponent kicked at my feet, hoping to knock me down. I looped my right leg around his right leg and tried to trip him. He didn’t budge. It was like trying to topple a redwood tree. I got my feet planted before he could take advantage of my being off-balance. We continued to strain.
At some point, it became clear that we could very well be like this all day. He had the best of me and knew it, but I refused to budge…a typical Bombay trait. Soon, however, I would have to break. My muscles weren’t trained for this kind of torture and were rudely beginning to complain.
I’ve been told that because of my pale blue eyes, I have an unnerving gaze. Maybe that would work against an opponent who only ever saw brown eyes grimacing back at him. It was crazy and a little stupid because my concentration would shift. But it seemed like a good idea at the time.
I looked up and stared at the top of his head. What was I thinking? He wouldn’t look up. Why would he? I continued to stare at his sweat-soaked, dark hair as I held him off at the shoulders. The longer I did, the more I realized that only he could see the position of our legs and feet, giving him the advantage. But I didn’t look down. Look at me, damn you! I thought over and over.
By some small miracle, he actually looked up! I was about to wonder if I was telepathic but abandoned that idea, directing every ounce of energy that wasn’t shoving against this brick wall into my glare. Our eyes locked just like our bodies. Great. So much for that idea.
Until I felt him give a little bit. Not more than a slight shift maybe in his elbow perhaps. I stared as hard as I could, even though it felt a little ridiculous. The stress was unimaginable. I’ve never, in any fight, had an opponent who didn’t budge in any way. Even his flesh was hard. I decided it was time to use something that had worked for me on other objects of prey. I winked at him.
His eyes widened slightly, and I felt a fleeting slip of victory. Without looking down, I moved my left leg around his and shoved with every ounce of strength I had left. I felt his stance shift. His shoulders gave slightly. I had him! In just a second, he’d be down on the ground and Zerleg would sort of be avenged.
I knew the second I did it that taking my eyes off him was a mistake. But something glinted in the distance, just behind his ear. There was no stopping my wandering eyes as I found the source of my distraction. Blonde hair. There was a woman with blonde hair standing there, her eyes wide and her mouth shaped like an “O.” I couldn’t stop myself. It was too late and as my opponent took advantage of my breaking concentration and I fell backwards to the ground, the very surprised face of Veronica Gale watched.
I never took my eyes off of her as I rose to my feet and walked over to my coach.
“You did really well.” Chudruk clapped me on the back. Yalta nodded.
“Thanks.” I knew I had done well. It didn’t make me feel better. I wanted to beat that smarmy son-of-a-bitch, but my guard had been lowered and he kicked my ass.
“No, really!” Sansar-Huu laughed. “You lasted longer than anyone else has. Not bad for your first match.”
I turned toward my friends. They were complimenting me. I needed to cool down. No one expected me to win. This was my first Naadam. In their minds, the fact I’d lasted so long was cause for celebration.
“Tand bayarlaa,” I said with more feeling this time. And I meant it. Cooling my heels was a good idea because I was pretty sure if I spoke to Miss Gale now, I’d explode.
We walked back to the others and they all joined in the congratulations. I only half-listened as Zerleg in particular grinningly told the story in more detail than I remembered. Apparently, he was satisfied that I’d avenged his loss. At least that was something.
My brain buzzed. What the hell was Ronnie doing here? This was no mirage. I saw her. And what are the odds she’d be in Mongolia…let alone this tiny fragment of it? I wanted answers to these questions, but not yet. First I had to honor my friends, who’d done so much to get me this far.
“To Coney!” Chudruk pushed a glass of vodka into my hands and raised a toast. Both families cheered as I drained my cup. The warmth surged through my veins, which was good because I was still wearing my uniform and it was a bit chilly.
“Cy?” Veronica’s voice caught me off guard and I turned to see her at the edge of the crowd. The Mongolians stared at her. I wondered if any of them had ever seen a blonde woman before.
I nodded to my hosts, then crossed over to her. She looked me up and down, then did something unexpected. Veronica Gale burst into laughter.
“You…you look great!” She giggled.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I growled.
This drew her up short. “You, you’re mad at me?”
I wrestled mentally with this one. “No,” I lied.
She pointed at me, eyes wide in astonishment. “You are mad at me! Unbelievable!”
“I’m not mad at you,” I said quietly, clearly indicating that I was. “I’m just upset at losing my concentration and losing the match.”
Her eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips. “You blame me for this! Don’t you?”
I took her by the elbow and guided her away from the others. “No. I don’t blame you for this.” Because that would be unreasonable. “I blame myself.” Liar.
/> Veronica did not look convinced. “Right.”
We stared at each other for an uncomfortable moment. Then I realized I was actually happy to see her, in spite of being pissed off.
“Let’s take a walk.” I said as I took her hand and led her away from the festival. We didn’t have to go very far to find a place to be alone. We must have looked odd to the Mongolians – two blonde Caucasians – bickering. Veronica just held on to my hand and followed.
It surprised me how intimate it felt to hold her hand. I don’t have many opportunities for that. Most of my liaisons since college didn’t feature enough time for that simple, affectionate act. Holding Ronnie’s hand made me feel the stirrings of an emotion I’d long since given up on.
There was a collection of rocks about two hundred yards from the party. I sat down on a large, flat stone and Veronica joined me, dropping my hand and drawing her knees up under her chin. It was pretty adorable.
“What are you doing here?” The walk had given me a chance to calm down.
“I could ask you the same thing.” She met my gaze defiantly. It seemed as though while my anger had dissipated, hers was just heating up.
“I’m here to participate in the festival.”
“I’m here to observe it,” she said flatly. I guess she was pissed off with the way I’d acted.
“Why?”
“It’s part of my doctoral thesis. And I’ll be interviewing natives and outsiders at the national competition. I came early to get a grasp on everything.” Veronica looked away for a moment, as if she didn’t want to meet my eyes.
“Another paper, eh?” I grinned.
“I take my education very seriously.”
“I believe that. But what will you do once there is nothing left to study?”
Her shoulders slumped and I wished I could’ve taken the words back. “I don’t know.”
I decided to change track. No point in beating her up over this. I’d done it enough before.
“So, tell me how coming here relates to your thesis,” I said with what I hoped looked like a reassuring smile as I sat there on a rock in pink briefs.
“My dissertation examines the ways men choose to glorify violence through everything from tribal war games to murder and assassination. Unfortunately, my thesis committee considered my writing ‘too stiff and dry,’ so they wanted me to observe these war games up close and hopefully apply to my research.”
“But the National Naadam isn’t for another few weeks,” I pointed out. “Why come early?”
“My professors thought it would be good for me.” She cocked her head. “Do I seem dull to you?”
I laughed. “No. Not at all. I had fun with you in Miami.” And I did too, I realized.
“Well, the people I work with think I don’t know how to live. They believe I think ‘fun’ is a four-letter word.”
My laughter came a little harder. “At least you didn’t correct them there.”
Her eyes grew wide. “What do you mean by that? Of course I told them ‘fun’ has three letters.”
Wow. She needed to lighten up. “You know what? I understand why they sent you here now.”
She fairly growled. “Well, I don’t get it. Honestly – Mongolia? Why couldn’t I find something like that in Paris? But no, I have to pick something located in a barren wasteland where the language is impossible. Fine. I’m here, but I don’t have to like it.”
I couldn’t help smiling. Was I the only person who found this little stiff engaging?
“I mean,” Veronica continued, “who in their right mind thinks of Mongolia when going on her first vacation since starting college seven years ago? Well, it’s too late to back out. It was nice of Professor Bialsky to arrange for a grant and everything since I couldn’t afford the trip otherwise. But why do I have the feeling in the back of my mind that they are trying to get rid of me?”
“Are you talking to me or yourself?” I asked.
“You are laughing at me.”
“Only on the inside, I swear.”
“Yeah, well you wouldn’t be laughing so hard if you had a mirror.” With that she folded her arms.
I looked down at myself. My body was in peak condition. It wasn’t terribly embarrassing to be wearing such a skimpy uniform.
“I mean, what’s with the little panties and tiny shrug?” She started smiling at last. “And the little pointed hat and curly-toed boots? I can’t figure it out!”
“All right, Ronnie. Here’s your first lesson.” I then explained the reason for the open-chested zodog and the fact that the “panties” were for ease of movement.
Unfortunately, I had no idea about the little hat and elflike boots.
Her mouth dropped open and for a moment, I wondered what it would be like to kiss that mouth when she was sober.
“You mean this, whatever you called it”—she fingered the edge of my sleeve—“is to keep women from competing? Seriously?”
I nodded. “Genghis Khan referred to this as the Three Manly Games. He used them to not only train his warriors, but to also pit political rivals against each other. He obviously believed the sport shouldn’t be tainted by women. And the Mongolians concur.”
She snorted. “Sounds mighty sexist to me.”
I shook my head. “Genghis Khan wasn’t exactly a feminist, but he had high regard for women. He revered his mother and his favorite wife. They had a lot of power for women of that time. But he felt that this was a man’s world and sport.”
“You sound like you admire him.”
“I do. The man came from nothing. He was a peasant and a bastard, and ended up ruling an area stretching from Russia to China to India. He did this with a group of archers on horseback. He opened up the silk road, introducing East to West and his sons and grandsons ruled Russia, China and India until the 1920s. There’s a lot to admire about a man like that.”
Veronica sat silently, digesting the information. As a cultural anthropologist, I knew she was interested.
“I read an article before I came,” she said as she stared off into the distance, “where they said that a large percentage of people in the world can trace their DNA back to Mongolia. That must be why.”
I let her think for a while, soaking up her interest with affection. I loved learning. I missed the ivory tower a bit. Watching her think was somewhat erotic for me.
“I have an idea,” I said after a while. “Why don’t you come with us? Stay with me and my friends. You’ll soak up the culture and observe the training. And in my downtime, I can try to give you some insight into the…” I paused. “How did you put it? Violent interests of men?”
“Oh.” She looked uncertain. “I don’t know…”
“Where are you staying now?” I asked.
“In Ulaan Baatar.” She pointed to a rickety truck that made Sansar-Huu’s beat-up Chevy look like a Rolls Royce. “The driver brought me out here just for the day.”
“I can’t think of a better way for you to do what your committee wanted you to do than by joining us. And instead of feeling completely alienated back at the HoJo or whatever, you can learn about these people, their nomadic culture and have a built-in translator.”
She considered this for a moment, much to my delight. I wanted her to stay. Wanted to be with her. Veronica Gale brought out something in me that had been dormant a long, long time. And I knew I could help her. And maybe there would be sex. I liked sex.
“But my things are in the hotel room…” she protested weakly.
“I’ll see if my friends can pick them up.”
We sat for a moment, looking at each other.
“Okay,” she replied, and I felt a wave of relief. “I’ll do it.”
I stood and took her hand, hauling her to her feet. “Let’s go take care of the details. And then, your education begins.”
CHAPTER TEN
Villager: If he’s the best with the gun and the knife, with whom does he compete?
Chris: Himself.
-
The Magnificent Seven
Sansar-Huu immediately volunteered to let Ronnie stay with his family. I was a little surprised until I remembered that the Mongols are famous for their hospitality. Veronica became somewhat shy around them. She was definitely out of her comfort zone. Odgerel patted a spot beside her on the blanket, indicating Ronnie should join her. I nodded in encouragement. With one last look up at me, Ronnie sat down and was immediately handed vodka. She sipped at it carefully and smiled when she recognized it. Oh, this was going to be fun. I couldn’t wait for the family to slaughter a sheep and divvy up the carcass for us to eat right there on the floor.
Zolban, Yalta’s other grandson, had done quite well and was in the finals. Part of his success was luck. He had managed to draw competitors much smaller than he was. Tall like his brother, Zolban was heavier, hewn with a great deal of muscle. He was much more outgoing than his sibling and took to wrestling very naturally. I was curious to see him go up against an athlete closer to his level.
I’d managed to get into my sweatpants and deel. Sitting in my uniform felt awkward. Others did it, but I wasn’t them. And it took the comedic wind out of Ronnie’s sails. When Zolban was called up to wrestle, she joined me in front, slipping her hand into mine. I looked at her more closely as she observed the field. Her short hair blew in the wind. She wore a T-shirt and sweater, with jeans and hiking boots. Watching the curiosity on her face inspired me. I remembered when I couldn’t wait to learn everything and anything.
Zolban was going through the motions of his eagle dance and I noticed with surprise that his competitor was none other than the man who bested me and Zerleg. This was going to get interesting.
Greatest Hits Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-4) Page 65
