East

by Lizzy Ford

  Not again. Not after watching John, Nell, Fighting Badger …

  Taylor. He walked into his death the same way Batu was: with his eyes open and his heart seemingly at peace with it. The parallels between this moment and the last I spent with Taylor rendered me speechless. My stomach was twisting, my body tense. I wanted desperately to block the memory of Taylor and to escape before I had to witness Batu’s death, too.

  “Do not mourn. I am not dead yet, ugly one,” Batu teased.

  “I don’t want you to die,” I told him truthfully.

  “If I have your favor, I have the Eternal Blue Sky’s. I am not afraid.” He moved away.

  Unable to shake my darker thoughts, I struggled to focus on the present. Khulutei joined me, tense and serious.

  Cheers went up as a man larger than Batu made his way through the crowd. He reached the corner opposite us, and I gasped. Batu was large; this man was a tree displaying the scars of previous battles.

  “Can Batu win?” I asked Khulutei uneasily.

  “All things are possible.”

  It wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement. I glanced at the quiet man beside me then at Batu. My champion was stripping off his tunics and over shirts down to his pants. He had the body of a large cat: powerful muscles moved beneath a thick layer of skin, wide shoulders and chest that slimmed down to narrow hips, a flat stomach and long, lean thighs. His torso bore multiple scars in different shapes and was bow legged, probably from riding horses. He was large, strong and fearless.

  Impressed, I caught myself staring at his exposed back. He was hairless except for the darkened patch filling in his baldhead. Like Taylor’s lean frame, Batu’s body wasn’t molded in a gym but from constant battle and everyday survival. He just happened to be much bigger than everyone around him, with the exception of the giant champion he was facing off with.

  One of the warriors teased him about his baldhead. Batu rubbed it and smiled in response. I didn’t understand how he was so easy with men who would kill him at the drop of the hat if his uncle ordered it.

  “Do they use weapons?” I asked.

  “No. It is a wrestling match,” Khulutei explained. “One must kill the other with his bare hands.”

  Barbaric didn’t begin to explain how crazy that sounded.

  The two men went to the center of the ring, and the crowd fell silent. Chaghan rose from his position seated on the ground with his back to his tent. He looked over both men and then gave a solemn nod of his head before returning to his seat.

  The two faced off, bowed and then lowered themselves into low stances.

  I didn’t want to care about what happened. But I didn’t want Batu to die, either. He shouldn’t become the next name on the list of people around me to suffer, and I wasn’t looking forward to another layer of guilt.

  I didn’t deserve to have someone fighting for me. I had done so much harm in my first adventure …

  My thoughts were soon dashed when the giant landed his first punch against Batu. The solid smack of fist on flesh made me flinch. I had never seen a fight, aside from glimpsing UFC matches while flipping through television channels. There was a reason I never stopped to watch; I didn’t care for violence, especially something this brutal.

  I was soon immersed in the battle before me. It stretched longer than I expected, with the two men sometimes locking up in wrestling moves before one of them broke free and they began beating on each other with such ferocity, I started to feel sick and couldn’t always look. Batu was as quick to react as he was thick, which seemed to be his only real advantage, aside from apparently taking a beating pretty well. Every time the giant knocked him down, he bounded to his feet as if he hadn’t just been smashed by a three hundred pound rock.

  The giant went down less often, but when he did, struggled to recover. Batu was more of a gentleman and let his opponent get to his feet before continuing. At first, I thought this considerate in his unique way, until I realized one of them had to die before this was over.

  Tense enough for my neck and chest to ache, I watched the giant draw first blood while Batu landed more direct punches. They locked up in mid-grapple on the ground once more, both of their chests heaving. Sweat and dirt coated their bodies. The men around us were cheering, some for Batu and some for the giant, while Khulutei remained stoic and tense beside me.

  “Batu is hurt,” he said for my ears only.

  I peered more closely at my guardian, unable to see what Khulutei did. “They’re both bloody,” I said.

  “Batu is favoring his right arm. It is likely broken.”

  “Broken?” I identified which arm was his in the tangled limbs of the warriors. It looked fine to me, and it was currently wrapped around the giant’s neck. His expression was that of someone in extreme concentration, not pain that I could tell. The blood of both men was mixed and smeared everywhere, though I didn’t see anything like a bone piercing his skin. “Are you sure?”

  “Be prepared to leave.”

  I crossed my arms, fear shooting through me. “He’ll be okay,” I whispered, unable to bear the idea of Batu being killed over me. Come on, Batu. I can’t lose anyone else.

  Khulutei said nothing. I had the feeling he’d yank me out of there fast if the battle passed the point of no return for Batu. I wasn’t schooled enough in this kind of barbarism to identify that moment. Even if it came, I’d rather stay here and face my fate than run away and live with Batu’s death on my conscience.

  Batu’s grip around the giant slipped, and the larger man rolled free. The two launched to their feet and another brutal round of punches, grabbing and kicks. I still didn’t see what Khulutei did; Batu didn’t seem to be pulling punches the way I expected someone with a broken arm to do.

  Khulutei shifted his weight between feet beside me, the only indication he was worried. I glanced at him and swallowed hard. I was starting to like this world even less watching how they settled disagreement. It didn’t seem likely that any of them had made it this far.

  “Good,” Khulutei murmured.

  I focused again on the battle, frustrated I didn’t understand the battle like Khulutei did. Batu had just been thrown off the back of the giant, who was staggering. All I could think of was that Batu did something before being tossed onto his back. He rolled and hopped to his feet, a little more slowly this time, but still bright eyed and focused.

  The giant, however, was shaking his head and stumbling.

  “Finish it, cousin,” Khulutei said under his breath.

  As if hearing him, Batu pounced. Any mercy he had shown the giant in letting him stand whenever he fell appeared to be gone. He smashed one of the giant’s knees and sent the man crashing down with a cry of pain.

  And then he began to pound his fists into him. Over and over, until the giant fell onto his back and weakly tried to fend off Batu’s blows.

  Batu didn’t stop and continued to beat the man’s face and neck. Blood sprayed everywhere while the men around us cheered more loudly.

  Sickened by the sight of a man being murdered, I closed my eyes and ducked my head, seeking my happy place.

  The sense of detachment stirred and tugged me away from reality and consciousness. The scary world outside vanished, for which I was grateful.

  See me. Hear me. Touch me.

  This time, I fought the attempt to bring me back. My senses, however, disobeyed me, and I gradually became aware of Batu’s body pressed to mine, his arm around me, the scent of his sweat and blood as I was held against his chest.

  “… wrong with her?” Khulutei’s words were alarmed.

  My eyes fluttered open, and my nose wrinkled. Batu’s blood and sweat smeared my cheek and hands. I drew my face away from his chest in disgust.

  “She is not of this world,” he explained.

  With a sigh, I looked up at his strong features. His face was bloodied, one eye and his lip swollen already. His right arm hung at his side limply, and he was breathing hard. The image of him beating a man to de
ath was at the back of my mind. Combined with the blood marring my skin, I had the urge to run far away until someone from the future found me.

  I pushed at him.

  “You are back, goddess.” His voice was strained, though he appeared steady on his feet. “Cousin.”

  Khulutei looped an arm around me. I struggled, but he was as solid as Batu. Resigned to being in his arms, I watched Batu wipe blood from his face with one of his tunics.

  The crowd was dispersing. Their uncle was gone from his place of honor, while the body of the man he slayed remained in the ring. I looked away from the bloody mess quickly.

  “It would be wise for you to leave soon,” Khulutei advised. “Our uncle is angry. He will honor your victory for now, but when night falls, much can happen.”

  “I suspect the same.” Batu gazed at the tent. “I will need a healer before we go. May I see your wife?”

  “We can go there now.” Khulutei released me and started away.

  I wobbled. Batu instinctively steadied me, and I shifted out of his reach, freaked out by his brutal displays of violence.

  “Do not run, lamb,” he warned, as if aware of the thoughts racing through my mind.

  “I won’t,” I replied. If only because I have no idea where to go. “Are you hurt?”

  He shrugged.

  I sensed a warrior of this time did not express pain or emotion unless he was on the verge of death, if then.

  “You are not pleased your guardian is victorious?” he asked, studying me.

  “Death disturbs me, Batu. Violence, too.”

  “This world of yours … it is unusual.”

  I started to laugh, once more on the verge of hysterical, and stopped, aware of how inappropriate it was at the moment. “Let’s get you patched up,” I said instead. If I didn’t stay focused and busy, I was going to have a meltdown.

  Despite the savagery of what I had just witnessed, I was also thrilled Batu was still alive. One less person on my list of people who died because of me.

  He began walking. He was moving slower than usual. With no limp and no outward sign of pain, I had no idea what was wrong. I didn’t want to ask, though, not when I was experiencing profound relief that he had survived and was mostly okay. I didn’t want to feel anything towards him, even the same general concern for his life I experienced about everyone in the world.

  Watching him fight for my freedom …

  It bothered me on a level I didn’t want to acknowledge. “Thank you for fighting,” I said awkwardly. “But please don’t do it again.”

  “You are my commander now, ugly one?” he asked.

  “You’re sworn to obey me, right? So you have to listen. I don’t want you fighting for me.”

  “I’m sworn to protect, not obey, whether or not you wish it.”

  It was a fruitless discussion. I heard it in his tone. Duty yadda yadda. I was edgy after the battle, not only from watching him do what he did, but because I really didn’t want to be here or responsible for the life of someone else.

  What choice did I have? For all I knew, I was trapped here for good.

  Khulutei’s tent was large and close to his uncle’s. We entered, and Batu sat at the fire in the center with a grunt of pain. Two women were present, along with Khulutei, and they immediately went to Batu’s side with baskets filled with apothecary supplies.

  I sat down on the opposite side of the fire.

  “Goddess, these are my wives, Jichin and Bayarjin,” Khulutei said.

  The two women glanced my way, bowed their heads and returned to working on Batu.

  “You have two wives?” I asked, surprised.

  “Three,” he replied. “Two are adept in the ways of healing.”

  “Three wives. But … how?”

  All of them looked my way at this. Batu appeared amused, his cousin confused and the women uncertain.

  “Moonbeam does not understand our world,” Batu explained. “Khulutei is a wealthy man. A wealthy man takes many wives. The more wives, the wealthier he is. It is our way, goddess.”

  “Do you all live here?” I asked, unable to comprehend how three women could live within hearing range of their husband making love to one of them.

  “We each have our own ger, goddess,” one of them answered with a smile.

  “Oh. That’s good.” But crazy. “How many wives do you have, Batu?”

  “None.”

  Why did that answer relieve me? Because I didn’t want to make a handful of women widows?

  “It is forbidden for a guardian of the goddess to take a wife until he reaches forty seasons. A new guardian is appointed at this age,” Batu explained.

  “How many wives will you have?” I asked.

  “I do not intend to live that long.”

  “Why?”

  He eyed me. “I have known you two days, goddess, and been in two battles.”

  “You will need several guardians,” Khulutei said with a trace of a smile.

  I really didn’t like this joke. I wasn’t worth killing for and definitely not dying for.

  “Are you hungry, goddess?” one of Khulutei’s wives asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Milk?”

  “Do you have real food?”

  “The Goddess of the White Path consumes more than milk?” Khulutei asked.

  “Um, yes. I eat what you do.”

  He exchanged a look with the wife who asked me. She rose and went to a low table with jugs of water and wrapped food, returning with dried cheese that crumbled like feta and a small chunk of cooked red meat.

  I ate both happily. Batu’s broken forearm was set and bandaged with long pieces of timber inside the linens to keep it straight. They dressed the wounds on his face, hands and wrapped one ankle as well.

  He was quiet throughout it all, allowing the women to work their trade. I found myself puzzling over him, unable to understand how he could beat anyone to death. I couldn’t fathom doing such a thing to a mortal enemy who murdered my family. The violence gene passed me by.

  He met my gaze. He was relaxed, his powerful body giving him the appearance of someone always ready to spring into action. There was nothing in his face or eyes I was able to read; he seemed content to study me.

  My thoughts were not so simple. I was struggling with the emotions from my first adventure back in time. I had hoped they’d leave me alone or I could lose them in the whirlwind activity of this new place and time. If anything, they were stirring stronger and stronger. The more I interacted with someone like Batu, the more I felt Taylor’s loss and the trauma of living through the deaths of so many people I had cared about, despite learning who they really were.

  I didn’t know the real Batu and was still concerned for him. He didn’t know me and was laying down his life at my feet. There was so much wrong with these scenarios without taking into account the brutal world I had been thrust into.

  We need to have a real talk. I decided. I needed him to know I wasn’t magical or divine or worth his life. I didn’t necessarily want to know more about him, though, even if I needed to know if he’d turn out to be like the traitorous Nell, who I trusted with everything, or John, the man who murdered his own daughter yet pretended I was her.

  I had run into too much craziness in my first adventure. I had to keep my distance and make sure no one else ended up dead – or uncreated – like Taylor.

  Averting my gaze, I ran my fingertips over one of the bandages on my arms. It was just my luck lately that I could heal others – but not myself.

  Heal others. I considered Batu’s broken arm. I was feeling guilty about him being hurt, but I didn’t need to.

  “Batu, why didn’t you ask me for …” I waved at my arm, not wanting to finish the question.

  “It is yours to give, goddess. I do not ask for your favors.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I do not understand you. May I have some wine?” I asked one of the wives. “And a knife.”

  She brought me both. I hesitated. This
knife was much larger than the one Batu gave me. I wasn’t able to consider cutting myself with the pain of my other wounds still throbbing. I gazed at the sharp blade squeamishly.

  I stood and circled the fire, kneeling beside Batu. I held out both to him. “I can’t do it,” I said.

  He held my gaze a moment before accepting the offerings. He took one of my hands.

  “Just don’t … make it bad,” I said nervously.

  Sensing I was ready to bolt, he tightened his grip and deftly positioned the blade of the knife near my thumb. I closed my eyes and braced myself. The sharp prick made me gasp once more. Assured it was over, I opened my eyes.

  The black specks remained in my blood. There were fewer, though, and I suspected the preservation or cryo agent or whatever it was gradually was being cleaned out.

  Batu released my hand, and I squeezed droplets into the wine with a grimace.

  “How did you come by this gift?” Khulutei sounded unsettled.

  “By accident,” I replied. “I was asleep for at least seventy years. This … black stuff is what kept me sleeping and healthy.”

  The look he gave me was one of unease.

  Batu was peering into the goblet as if uncertain he wanted to drink it. “You beat a man to death with your hands and are afraid of a little blood?” I asked him, surprised.

  “Blood is sacred, goddess. Normally, offering your blood to another in such a way binds your spirits to theirs,” one of the women explained. “It is a way for non-kin to become kin, for strangers to become brothers.”

  “Ah. Makes sense.” I had no clue about their customs or traditions. I started to move my hand so the blood wouldn’t drip onto my white silks when I noticed the delicate layers were already soaked through from Batu’s blood. “Is it too much to ask for new clothes?”

  “Would you trade?”

  I glanced up and saw the envious way one of Khulutei’s wives was eyeing the silk. She settled beside me and quickly wrapped my bleeding thumb.

  “Yes,” I said without hesitation. “Um … do you like this dress?”

  She nodded with a smile. “Come with me to my ger. You can choose what you wish.”