by Lizzy Ford
“You know how … why I swore the oath never to marry again,” I started. “I am willing to bend my will, Batu. But in return, I need your will to be bent on an issue related to your uncle’s fate but not directly. I want to ask you not to kill unless necessary. I do not ask you to forsake your duty as a warrior or to dishonor yourself, but to kill only when absolutely warranted, when disarming or disabling is not enough, when mercy means one of us is at risk.”
He listened, head tilted to the side. “You would dictate who I kill?”
I shook my head. “I would ask you to make that decision but to weigh the risk or danger to us rather than kill indiscriminately. I, in turn, will trust your judgment to determine who that is and never doubt you. I know how honorable you are.” My mouth went dry. Nervousness set in, the kind of anxiety I knew stemmed from my experience with Taylor. There was no red flag in my mind at the prospect of marrying Batu, but the scars of Taylor remained.
He was thinking it over, gaze glued to mine. I had asked only what I felt I needed for us to make it without me flipping out eventually over him murdering people.
“Yes, Moonbeam. I will bend my will as you ask,” he said softly.
“Then I will be your wife.” Holy shit. I was starting to panic. It had nothing to do with Batu and everything to do with the emotions I hadn’t dealt with yet originating from my trip to the Old West. The sense of detachment crept upon me, and I wobbled.
He closed the distance between us and rested his hands on my hips. I leaned into him, steadied by his heated strength. “Hear me, see me, touch me, taste me,” he whispered and kissed me.
I focused on him, on how his arousal was thick and hard at my belly and the flavor of his mouth stoked a fire that never really went out and burned solely for him. A lifetime with Batu …
It wasn’t enough. I didn’t think any amount of time ever could be. I wrapped my arms around his neck and broke off the kiss, burying my face against his chest to breathe his scent. He held me tightly, his warmth engulfing me.
“You are frightened?” he asked, lips moving against my ear.
“A little. I cared about Taylor. It hurt losing him. But Batu, if I lost you …” I couldn’t even register the idea.
“You will not.”
You don’t know that. I had no idea if I was free and clear of Carter and Taylor’s people. I hoped that, if they hadn’t found me by now, they wouldn’t. I had been in this place and time for over three months. But if they did … the issue was what might happen to Batu, if he’d meet the same fate as Taylor.
“I must deal with my uncle. Wait for me here,” Batu said and eased away.
I almost asked what he intended to do – but stopped. I had promised to trust his judgment, and I meant to do so, no matter what that meant.
I watched him leave. When he was gone, the tears began. I didn’t even know why they appeared or who I cried for, except that I was more scared than I had been in the tent when Batu was ill.
Trying to calm myself, I sat down by the warm fire and did my best to pull some logical reasoning out of my thoughts. I still had the occasional nightmare when I relived the tragic deaths of the people I had met in the Old West. Of them all, Taylor’s was the one that plagued me, because I had an indirect hand in it.
Batu wasn’t a time traveler or a target to Carter or his enemies. Carter had discussed me moving forward in time a hundred years, not seventy, which meant I never would’ve met Batu. So it didn’t seem likely Batu was on Carter’s radar to uncreate the way he had Taylor. Batu was a normal person, one I happened to care about more than I recalled caring about anyone else.
It hit me that I was crying for another reason: because giving my heart to Batu meant I was never leaving here. Even if Carter did find me, I was committing to someone whose world was here. I was therefore choosing never to go home rather than being trapped.
I gazed around at my surroundings. Sorrow was deep within my breast at the prospect of never going home and yet, I’d gradually come to adapt to this place. I might still wear my clothing inside out or on occasion become the center of laughter for the rest of the community, but I was also a part of Batu’s clan, a member in every way but one.
Marrying Batu would finish the process. I’d belong here officially, with my new family.
Along with sorrow, a warm emotion bloomed within me as well, one of joy. I would finally have my own family and definite direction to my life. I kind of liked the sound of it, of undoubtedly knowing my place in the world.
And then there was Batu, the most incredible man I’d ever known.
“I can do this,” I whispered, calming. “This is my home now.”
I didn’t feel the sense of resignation I had when I thought I was stuck in the Old West. I wouldn’t have to learn to love Batu as I had Taylor, because I already knew I’d finished falling for the warrior brute the first night I slept with him. As confused as I sometimes was about what happened in the eighteen forties, I also understood I’d never been in love with Taylor. Attracted to him, I’d harbored nothing but deep respect and gratitude for the man who rescued me and helped me navigate my first time travel trip.
But love was not among the emotions I experienced with Taylor.
I had, however, found it here in the unlikeliest of places with the unlikeliest of men.
Wiping away my tears, I drew a steadying breath and realized that yes, Batu was once again right. Against all odds, counter to any expectations I’d ever held about my life, I was meant to be here. My destiny led me back almost a thousand years in time to a man I never imagined existed.
And it was … fantastic, as the Ninth Doctor would say. Absolutely fantastic.
Before I had a chance to clear my thoughts, Batu returned. I met his gaze as he walked in, afraid to ask after his uncle. His weapons were clean, his body free of blood.
He knelt beside me, and I reached out to him instinctively, taking his face in my hands. “I delivered the punishment times nine but spared his life in exchange for a wedding gift,” he told me.
I started to smile, my heart swelling. I wasn’t going to dwell on the torture aspect – but on the idea the man was still alive, and I’d helped him stay that way. “What gift?”
“It is for you to name.” A smile spread across Batu’s face, and he peeled off his tunic in a sign of what was going to come next. “I have few horses for your dowry, but he is one of the wealthiest men in the steppes. Is this not clever, ugly one?”
I laughed loudly, impressed by my conniving – yet mercy granting – soon to be husband. “Very clever!”
“Mercy worked this once,” he allowed and wrapped his arms around me. “Come here, my wife.” He nuzzled my neck. “Or do you wish mercy as well?”
My breath caught. “Never,” I whispered. “I want my warrior husband to pleasure me so well, I float back to the moon.”
“As long as you always return to me.” There was an odd note in his voice.
I leaned back and met his gaze, not expecting the troubled expression marring his features.
“Why do you say such a thing?” I asked, surprised. “Because I came from somewhere else?”
“Because my heart goes where you do, be it Ghoajin’s for a feast or the moon from where you came.”
“You don’t have to worry about that now, Batu. Even if I could return to the moon, do you think I’d leave you behind?”
“I do not know. Would you?”
“Never.” I kissed him gently. “I promise, Batu. Nothing can or will take me away, until it is my turn to go to the Eternal Blue Sky in death. I promise never to become lost again, either.”
“I can find you anywhere,” he assured me. “I will ensure you are never lost.”
I liked the idea of him becoming my home. A lot more than I expected. “Thank you. Now shut up and make love to me.”
He smiled in response.
Chapter Sixteen
The wedding ceremony, I learned the next day, was all of sixty seconds l
ong. It was a formality once the clan elders had given their blessing and the people had been informed. It was completed by a three-day celebration, hosted by Ghoajin, and attended even by the uncle who once tried to kill me. I even saw The Persian storyteller and Batu’s cousin.
They were the best three days of my life. I spent the days with the family and the nights in Batu’s arms being loved physically until I couldn’t move. Batu was happy, too. Not that he ever appeared unhappy, but he smiled twice as much and was always within reach. I knew he was a warrior, one who might eventually be called away to serve his Khan, but for those three days, I could forget anything beyond the moment existed.
I had a home, a man who loved me more than I ever imagined possible, and an extended family that adored me.
I had everything I’d ever dreamed of wanting. My first time travel adventure ended in tragedy. My second in heaven.
Batu left early in the morning to train with the warriors of his clan on the fourth day, and I left our home to attend to Ghoajin, who was continuing to educate me about herbs. It was in early December, and the air was frigid. The blue sky was brilliant but cold and the sun bright despite the fact the temperature didn’t climb above freezing. Shivering in my clothing, I adjusted the satchel containing herbs wrapped in linen and a couple of wooden containers I had filled with my practice balms.
“Moonbeam.”
I turned and smiled at The Persian, whose quick step drew him to me. He bowed his head.
“Good morning,” I said cheerfully.
“May I walk with you?” he asked.
“Sure.”
We began walking towards Ghoajin’s tent.
“You are quite content here,” he observed with a trace of a smile.
“No. I’m ecstatically content here,” I replied. A whisper of an instinct stirred, as it often did around people. I was guessing the empathic memory chip had never fully shut off but on occasion, subtly told me something about the people around me. I had never feared Batu despite seeing firsthand what he could do, and I had once wondered if the earthy Persian was a time traveler.
The sense about him re-emerged, but I dismissed it outright. If I had it my way, I’d never think about Carter ever again. I loved my new life and had every intention of enjoying every second of it.
“It pleases me to hear this,” The Persian said. “Batu is an honorable man, more so than his uncle, who I’ve shadowed for a year or so. I am surprised you don’t wish to return to your home, though.”
“To the moon?” I asked with a laugh. “No. I’m happy here.” I looked around me and felt the truth of those words to my core.
“Good.” He appeared distracted or maybe troubled. “Moonbeam, may I tell you something in the strictest confidence?”
I stopped walking, not understanding what this man could possibly say that needed to remain a secret. “Yes,” I said curiously and waited.
He faced me, hesitated, and then drew a breath. “Batu is very happy as well. He wishes for nothing more than to remain by your side forever.”
I suppressed a smile. “Why do you say it like it’s a bad thing?”
“Moonbeam, I know … I know who you are. What you are. Batu is of a similar mold. By deciding to remain here, permanently, he has angered his employers.”
For a moment, I was held in such disbelief, I wasn’t able to understand a word he said.
“I know you are both happy, and I know Batu much better than I do you. He deserves peace and love.” The Persian’s smile was genuine. “But … the people who are after you are not likely to care for the happiness of either of you.”
The satchel slid from my hands. I didn’t even feel it, barely registered the clinking of wood against wood as it hit the hard ground beside my feet. “What’re you saying?” I managed.
“For reasons I cannot begin to understand, Carter has found you. It is not like him to pursue any of his agents so tenaciously. He normally lets them go when they wish it.” The Persian shifted his weight between his feet, his features taking on a troubled expression. “I … I am not one of his, but he somehow located me and used me to find you, perhaps from some proverb I recorded about you when we met that survived history. I suspected who you were but had no reason to prove it or to pursue you. Sometimes, we cross paths with other travelers. Our missions and purposes are independent of one another, so we bow heads to one another and move on. Batu is a colleague, one I admire greatly and respect. I simply wish to warn you that the powers who seek you are close to finding you, and there is an inherent danger in that.”
His eloquence ensnared me once more, managed to keep my shocked mind from processing the meaning behind his pretty words.
“You’re saying …” I couldn’t process the warning, not with the more incredible claim beating at my thoughts. “… Batu is a time traveler.”
The Persian frowned as he studied me. “You didn’t know.”
I shook my head, mouth dry.
“I, uh, would’ve thought you both discussed your uh … outside employment before marriage. My agency assigned him to you on the onset of your travels, first to assess then to protect once we determined the level of technology in your brain. No one has ever mastered what Carter did. The microchips in your head are beyond belief,” he explained. “Every agent in our organization knows about this singular success after decades of failure. Carter … interfered, as he is wont to do. I am not privy to the details, but I believe he conscripted Batu somehow – perhaps through force or blackmail – to work for him when you arrived in this era.”
“I’m sorry … I’m having some …” Shit. I needed to talk and think and right now, my sense of detachment was yanking me into unconsciousness. I sagged and felt myself hit the cold, solid ground. My eyes closed despite my attempt to fight the darkness.
Stuck in-between places, I was vaguely aware of being lifted and carried somewhere, of the worried voices gathered around me, of the attempts to wake me.
But I stayed where I was, overwhelmed and straining not to plummet into darkness of emotion that was far, far deeper than where I had gone when Taylor passed.
I saw the man who saved me at the well on the Old West in my visions. It wasn’t the first time I sensed him, but it was the first time I saw him. He had followed Fighting Badger – or perhaps me, since the Native American was stalking me – almost since I had arrived in the Old West.
But the shadowy figure, the one who saved me, had made only two appearances: once at the well and once in the tent of Ghoajin seventy years ago when he forced me to swallow the pills Carter sent with me.
The Persian was claiming that was Batu.
The man I loved, the man I thought I knew, had been lying to me.
Ask him first. He deserved a chance to refute what The Persian was saying or to deny it all. If The Persian hadn’t known what he did, I would dismiss his words, because nothing was coming between Batu and me. Hanging onto the thread of hope that The Persian was wrong, his warning was then able to sink in.
Carter was close. I was being hunted. I wasn’t freed or left to history; I had been lost, like a set of car keys, and both Carter and his enemies were searching. One of them, or perhaps both, had found me.
But this is my home now.
“Goddess!”
I wrenched awake. Ghoajin was leaning over me and sat back in satisfaction when she saw my eyes open. Suvdin and a couple other women in Ghoajin’s entourage were present. I gazed at them briefly and tried to right my thoughts as I sat up.
I’m endangering everyone around me. I hated the feeling. It made me want to weep, reminded me I was meant to remain on the outside looking in wherever I was. Swallowing the emotion, I accepted a goblet of milk and focused on breathing steadily.
“Are you well, Moonbeam?” Suvdin asked, dark eyes searching my features.
“Yes, thank you.” I offered a weak smile. “I think I need to lie down at home, though.”
“I have sent for Batu,” Ghoajin said. “He can esc
ort you home.”
Panic swirled within me. I needed some me-time before confronting him to sift through what The Persian had said, to be able to think straight. “I should go now.” I hurried to my feet. “Excuse me, please.”
Without waiting for them to respond, I fled. Tearing out of Ghoajin’s ger, I raced through the tents towards mine, no longer caring about the biting chill or the peculiar looks I received.
I didn’t stop running or feel safe until I was in the familiar tent that smelled of Batu. Only then did the frantic fear begin to subside and my reeling mind begin to process everything I’d heard.
Sitting by the fire, I wrapped myself in a blanket and stared into it, raw and numb, betrayed and desperate for what The Persian said not to be true. I didn’t notice the passage of time or the disappearance of light as night fell. I didn’t notice anything, just sat and stared.
And wished I’d never met Carter.
“Moonbeam!” Batu’s voice was concerned as he strode into the tent. “We were hunting. I returned as soon as …”
I looked up at him, and he stopped. Wiping my face, I moved stiffly for the first time in hours and wrapped my arms around my knees.
“What is it?” he asked as he removed his outerwear and weapons. “Are you ill?”
“No.” I had spent all day thinking about what to say and still couldn’t figure out a good opening line. Gazing at my husband, the man I wanted to spend my life with, all I could think about was that I was about to lose him in one way or another. “Do you love me, Batu?”
“Yes, Moonbeam.” He sat beside me. “More than the moon or sky or grass.”
I believed him. Even The Persian had claimed it to be true. “I need to ask you something.”
He waited.
“Are you a traveler? Were you with me in the Old West?”
Batu stiffened. For a moment, I thought he was going to walk away. Instead, he pulled me into his body and hugged me hard. “They found us.”
