“All right, Ronnie. Here’s your first lesson.” I then explained the reason for the open-chested zodag 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 not only to train his warriors, but also to pit political rivals against one another. 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 nineteen twenties. There’s a lot to admire about a man like that.”
Veronica sat silently, digesting the information. As a cultural anthropologist, she was bound to be interested.
“I read an article before I came,” she said as she stared off into the distance, “that 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 experience 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 Ulaanbaatar.” 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 and 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 that 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 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.
Zolbin, 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, Zolbin 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 Zolbin 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.
Zolbin was going through the motions of his eagle dance, and I noticed with surprise that his competitor was none other than the man who had bested me and Zerleg. This was going to get interesting.
“His name is Sukhbaatar.” Chudruk appeared at my side. “It means ‘Ax Hero.’”
Veronica looked at my friend with interest. “That’s a tough name.”
He nodded. “He is favored to do well at nationals.”
The combatants slapped their thighs and we turned our attention to the field. Both men were matched for height and weight. The only difference was experience, as Chudruk whispered. Zolbin was a bit newer to the sport.
Unlike his cautious brother, Zolbin dove immediately for Sukhbaatar’s hips. His opponent broke free and grabbed Zolbin’s ankle. Zolbin spun on his heel and slipped from his grasp. Apparently, this match was going to be quite different. Sukhbaatar had to fight for every inch, and it became clear immediately that Zolbin’s very aggressive and active fighting style was a problem for him. I noticed Zerleg cheering for his brother on the other side of Chudruk.
Sukhbaatar charged Zolbin’s hips, but Zolbin stepped just out of reach. He spun behind Sukhbaatar and from behind managed to throw him to the ground. The crowd roared, and I noticed with some pleasure that Zerleg was pumping his fist in the air in celebration. Yalta even sported a slight grin.
Zolbin did not grandstand. He merely nodded modestly at the crowd, then walked over to his opponent, extending his hand. Sukhbaatar’s face was bright red as he slapped Zolbin’s hand away. The crowd jeered. No one, no matter what culture, thought bad sportsmanship was acceptable.
The families celebrated the win with cooked mutton bought from a vendor. More vodka was passed around, and we all got pleasantly drunk as the day drew to a close and the competition ended. By besting his opponent, Zolbin achieved the coveted rank of zaan, or elephant. Both families, Sansar-Huu’s and Chudruk’s, celebrated the win as if they were all related. This was the way of the steppes. They now had a connection, and I was more than a little touched that I was the catalyst.
I insisted that Yalta and Zolbin ride in the cab of the truck while Veronica and I climbed into the back with the others. The darkening sky brought a chill to the windy road as we drove along. I was warm in my fur-lined deel, but Ronnie began to shiver. I put my arm around her and pulled her close. She resisted at first, then relaxed against me. The alcohol buzzed warmly in my veins and I felt good.
Our friends chattered around us and I translated a bit for Ronnie. She laughed at the jokes a few moments later than they were told-and at many mangled translations I attempted-but I could tell she was starting to feel comfortable. That convinced me I had been right to invite her. In the sterile environment of a hotel in the big city, she wouldn’t learn anything.