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Eventually we arrived at the camp. Ogderel invited Ronnie to share their ger, but I insisted she be put up in mine. Too much cultural overload was not a good thing. It would be better if she was with someone she knew. Someone who spoke English. Someone who wanted to have sex with her. Yalta sent the boys over with an extra cot and blankets. Ronnie watched nervously as I set her up on the other side of the tent.

She sat quietly on her cot, cuddling Sartre while I made some tea. It was warm in the ger. The felt walls kept in the heat put out by the small cookstove.

“What are you doing?” she asked sharply.

I kept unbuttoning my deel. “Getting undressed.”

Ronnie’s face had a look of sheer panic. “Surely you aren’t going to strip right here in front of me!”

“You’ve seen me in nothing but a towel. Get over it.”

“I’ll…I’ll go outside and wait.”

“Why?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

“Can’t you just sleep in that?” Patches of red spread over her cheeks.

I shook my head. “It chafes and isn’t very warm.” I found it hilarious that, in spite of her modesty, she didn’t look away as I peeled off my zodag, leaving nothing but my shuudag. In fact, she looked a little frozen with fear.

“Well, since you can’t take your eyes off of me, I’ll turn around.” I smiled. With my back to her, I pulled off the briefs, leaving myself completely naked. For a moment I entertained the thought of turning around…just for the fun of it. But the fact that she was nervous about being here changed my mind.

Did I imagine it, or was there a brief intake of air coming from this modest young lady? I slipped on a sweat suit and socks and turned around.

Veronica looked stricken. And maybe a little excited. I couldn’t tell. It made me wonder if she had sex very often. Now, why did that pop into my head?

She accepted the tea gratefully and drank. “This is good. I was afraid you would give me more vodka. Or…what did they call it?”

“Arikh. You’ll only see that in the cities and at festivals. For the most part, we will be drinking airag.”

“What’s that?”

“Fermented mare’s milk.”

She blanched. “Thank God you have tea.”

“And that’s another thing I should warn you about. They drink their tea with salt and animal fat.” I watched with amusement as she grimaced. “But I have the good stuff.”

She shook her head. “I never thought I’d hear tea called ‘the good stuff.’”

I smiled. “There’s a lot you will have to get used to here. We eat a lot of mutton and goat cheese. Just remember to stay away from tarvag.”

“Why?”

“It’s marmot. And they still carry the black plague.”

Ronnie’s eyes widened. “I guess I really am immersed in Mongolian culture now. What do we do during the day?”

“We aren’t expected to help out, but I think you should. It will give you a little more experience. And Odgerel speaks some English. I’ll be training. You are always welcome to watch Yalta kick my ass.”

This made her smile. “I’d like that.”

I nodded. “I knew you would.” Exhaustion pulled at me, begging me to sleep. Veronica put the guinea pig back in her cage and slid between the blankets on her cot. I turned out the lantern.

“Good night, Ronnie,” I said quietly as I climbed into my bed.

“Cy?” she replied in the darkness. “Thank you for bringing me here, and for explaining and translating and everything.”

“You are very welcome.” And I meant it. Veronica Gale was getting under my skin, and I enjoyed it. In fact, I wondered, as I heard her breathe across the ger, whether I would actually get any sleep at all.

Chapter Eleven

“Those who are easily shocked should be shocked more often.”

– MAE WEST

I decided to let Ronnie sleep in. She looked so comfortable snuggled beneath the wool blankets. Actually, I wanted to get in there with her warm, sleeping body. Wrap myself around her soft flesh…

Shaking my head to clear it, I shrugged on the rest of my clothes and, after chugging some tea and eating a couple of protein bars, went outside to meet Yalta at the stream.

“Pop says you did real good yesterday,” Chudruk said with a grin.

“I could’ve done better,” I replied.

He nodded. “Yes, you could have. But you were distracted.”

I could feel my face warming in the cool morning breeze. Was I actually blushing? I didn’t think I had it in me.

Yalta put his hand on my shoulder. He looked me in the eyes and spoke slowly so I would understand. Yeah, that made me feel better.

“You are good. You will do well at the Naadam Festival,” was all he said. At least, that was how I interpreted him. For all I know he called me an idiot unworthy of castrating sheep.

“Tand bayarlaa,” I thanked him, but wasn’t so sure I deserved the praise.

We trained for a few hours. This time, Yalta stressed technique more than strength training. I felt honored. He was showing me that I’d gone beyond his expectations. I was a Westerner who had made a good showing at the local naadam. We had another one in a few days, and Yalta told me he thought I could win at least one match.

I worked very hard. His faith in me was a great honor, and I wanted him to understand that I knew that. This was what I came here for: to test myself and learn. Maybe I wasn’t too different from Veronica after all.

As we made our way back to camp at midday, I noticed that my fair and lovely roommate was sitting on the grass with Odgerel, making cheese. The Mongolian was speaking English slowly, and Ronnie seemed to understand.

“There is your man now.” Odgerel pointed at me with a smile.

Veronica blushed a bright scarlet. “Oh! Um, he’s not…Well, we’re not…” She stumbled, at a loss for how to explain our situation.

“Sain bainuu!” I greeted the women, plopping down in the grass next to Ronnie. It was then that I noticed she had Sartre with her. The gluttonous pig was between the women, chowing down on the cool, damp grass.

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought her out here…” Veronica bit her lip.

I scooped up the pig. “Not at all. And you had her between you so the falcons wouldn’t get her.”

She nodded. “I was worried about that.”

Sartre squealed, struggling to get out of my grip and back to the juicy grasses. I returned her to her place between the women and she regally ignored me.

I stood. “I’d better get back to the ger. I want to have some tea during my break.”

Veronica looked at her hostess, then looked at me. She nodded and I took it to mean she was okay with that idea. Once in the tent, I stripped off the sweatsoaked shirt and replaced it with a dry one. After creating a fire on the stove and setting the kettle on, I lay on my cot to await the kettle’s whistle.

Every inch of my body ached. And I was extremely proud of that. Being here and working toward my goal gave me a sense of peace. Funny, isn’t it, how training for violence can make one feel that way? I stretched my legs out, kicking something with my foot. Odd. Everything should have been stowed in the trunks.

I sat up and saw that there was a suitcase with wheels and a briefcase sitting next to my bed. Must have been Ronnie’s. Sansar-Huu made good on his promise and brought back her things from the city. I chuckled, thinking of Veronica trying to roll a suitcase on the steppes. My laughter came harder when I thought of her trying to plug in her laptop.