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Wearily, D’Jwan opened his eyes, blinking as he tried to understand his current predicament. The previous evening, he had started a spiritual journey. He had been alone in the ruins of the old temple of his grandmother’s goddess. Now he found himself waking in what was surely a circular-shaped tent. Like the favorite in a litter of puppies, he had slept smack in the middle of a heap of bodies. While raising his head, he squinted. His heart thumped heavily and his pulse raced as he surveyed the area. These were no ordinary bodies but those of Goddess Xia and her handmaidens. How could this be? Was he still in the spiritual realm?
“Uuuggghhh,” he groaned as pain seared his skull.
“Easy.” Xia sat up and placed a hand over his forehead. She gently rubbed his temples. “You hit the koumiss hard last night.”
“Koumiss?” He repeated the unfamiliar word.
“Fermented mare’s milk,” Micah said, stretching as she sat upright.
“I did?” He squinted, scratching his head.
“You did.” Xia tilted her head as she eyed him. “Not that you weren’t already saturated with strong drink when we came upon you, shaking and shivering in the cold evening air.”
“Yes,” Scyleia said as she shook off the evening’s grip and stood. Her stretching accentuated her body’s nudity magnificently. “We did what we could to warm you up, offering you koumiss and the heat of our bodies.
He glanced down at his nakedness. The offer of warmth could explain their lack of clothing. Perhaps he had dreamed the whole evening?
“It can’t be. I performed a spiritual ritual in the temple of my grandmother’s goddess.”
Xia pulled a tunic over her head before beckoning him to follow her. She led him to the door, opening the flap to the morning’s sun. Pointing, she asked, “That temple?”
D’Jwan covered his manhood with his hand, popping his head out the door to take a look. It was as she said. The ruins were well within sight of where they were camped. “I...I don’t understand. How did I get here? I met a goddess. She looked just like you...”
Xia laughed loudly, throwing back her head before giving it a shake. “Me...a goddess?” She called out to her friends.
They laughed as well.
“Only deity we bow to is Munkh Khukh Tengri,” Scyleia added.”
He shook his head. His grandmother only worshipped the old goddess she would not name, but his mother, uncle, aunt and cousins worshiped many gods. Still, he had never heard of this one. “Apologies, I have not heard of your God.”
“Perhaps not,” Xia replied, “but you see him every day when you look upward to the heavens. We worship the Eternal Blue Sky. He is our god and our empire.”
D’Jwan nodded though he did not completely understand. Disappointment churned in the pit of his stomach. As he stewed in his self-pity, the women dressed and then packed their possessions. Xia touched his shoulder, distracting him from his grief. He turned his head her way. His eyes widened and he tilted his head as he looked her over. Truly, she was like no woman he had ever met. Rather than an ankle-length, sleeveless chiton, Xia was garbed in embroidered trousers, a colorful red and blue tunic, and ankle-length boots. In the light of day, he noticed another beautifully rendered tattoo on her shoulder. This one appeared to be a dragon. Indeed, all of the women were adorned with at least one ink drawing on their skin.
All dressed in their warrior finery, they did not lack for weapons or jewelry. The women carried bows and upwards of thirty arrows in their decoratively embroidered quivers. Kepes toted a light, thin-bladed bronze battle-ax and wore gold earrings and bracelets. Scyleia and Micah had both equipped themselves with riding crops and short swords and each woman wore a long, dangling gold necklace depicting reindeer. Xia wore less jewelry than she had the evening before. Of note, the larger necklace had been replaced by a smaller, less gaudy one but the earrings, bracelets, and gauntlet remained. She sported a dagger at her hip and carried a javelin. The sight of them in full gear set D’Jwan’s heart thumping and struck him with more than a little fear. These were fierce warriors and if the tales about nomadic tribes, who practically lived their lives from the back of a horse, were to be believed, they were capable of great violence.
Kepes, in particular, surprised him with how much she could carry all on her own. Women in his village rarely carried anything heavier than a pail of milk. They were homebodies who busied themselves with light, household chores. These warrior women literally disassembled the roof above their heads. In awe, he turned in a circle, taking a gander at the building they had all but cleared out. All the cushions, tapestries, carpets, and even those heated stones had been packed up and taken out of the tent.
“What are you gaping at? Never seen a ger?” Xia walked up behind him.
Startled, he jumped, turning in her direction. “I...I should help.”
“Ah, be in the way, you would.” Kepes grunted.
Frowning, he asked, “A ger?”
Xia and Kepes laughed at him again. The other two probably would have too if they hadn’t stepped out of the tent.
“You are standing in one. A nomad’s ger is a structure with a round, wooden frame and a canvas covering. She is designed to tear down and transport for reconstruction elsewhere.”
“That’s what you do? Move your home every day?” He tilted his head, lifting an eyebrow.
Xia shrugged. “Not all days. Sometimes, we settle for a spell, but wanderlust is in our blood.”
An ache pained D’Jwan’s chest. Imagine not having a place to call home. What happened to displace these women? Words failed him as he stared back into this woman’s intense dark eyes.
She ruffled his hair. “You are a funny one.”
After being shooed off, he sat out on the grass, rewrapping his robe to fasten around his waist since the garment had been cut down the middle. What remained hardly covered his ass and left his chest mostly bare. He watched with interest as the women took apart their home and packed all their worldly belongings up on an ox-drawn cart. The ox and a few of the unburdened horses were plain enough but the steeds the women rode were extravagantly ornamented with saddles covered with colored felt and sewn with decorative appliques depicting rams, horses, and other animals. These pampered stallions looked like walking art in their exquisite headdresses. A memory of a horned beast from the prior evening flashed in D’Jwan’s head. He ran his palm over his face as he realized how much of a fool he must have looked screaming about monster demons. He had no spiritual journey, only a dream influenced by stout drink.
He contemplated crawling under a rock but his shoulders stiffened as two of the warrior women drew longbows and pointed them nearby. Jumping, he turned to face their quarry, only to see his manservant, Malka.
“Wait!” D’Jwan held up his hands. “It’s okay. He’s with me.”
Kepes and Scyleia lowered their weapons and mounted their horses.
“Apologies, dirt slave,” Kepes addressed Malka with near disdain. He could ponder no reason why she disliked his old farmhand but shrugged off her rebuke without response.
“Young master, I return to lead you home,” Malka announced to D’Jwan’s great humiliation.
His cheeks flushed as he responded. “I know the way.”
“As you say, young master, but these are dangerous times. This area is unsafe.” Malka twisted the knife, albeit unintentionally.
The four women laughed raucously, throwing back their heads and cackling at his expense. Kepes and Micah were even slapping their knees. “Be sure to protect him, ancient one.”
Only Xia appeared to be holding back. She, too, had mounted her steed but brought the horse around to trot in his direction, halting next to him and Malka.
The old man bowed his head. “Gratitude to you for looking after the young master.”
The right side of her lips curved upward. “The pleasure was ours.”
Kepes and Scyleia rode over, filing in on either side of Xia.
“He provided us with some much-needed entertainment,” Kepes added.
Xia tossed Malka a small bag. “Some dried horsemeat. Do you have enough water?”
“Yes.” Malka held up the satchel. “Our thanks.”
She nodded her head slightly before turning her attention to D’Jwan. “Safe journey...I fear I will sorely miss you, worthy traveler.” Her voice grew husky on the last syllable and she licked her bottom lip suggestively.
He parted his lips and lifted his eyebrows, his eyes widening as he finally understood he had not experienced a drunken dream. At the very least, some of his fuzzy recollections had been real. His breath hitched but he managed to speak. “You could come with us!”
The boisterous laughter filling the air around him wiped the naïve smile from his face. Even Malka snickered at his expense. D’Jwan appeared to be the only one not in on the jest.
“But why not?” He turned and followed as the horse began to trot away. “Why not settle down, make a home for yourself?”
The women pulled their reigns. Micah’s jaw hung down, exposing her tongue and Kepes and Scyleia shared looks of disgust. Even Xia wore an expression of disbelief.
Kepes broke her silence, her voice venomous. “And become a dirt slave like you? Hobble myself to one place?”
Xia raised a hand, silencing Kepes. D’Jwan’s ears burned as all the blood rushed to his head. Kepes’s harsh words wounded him like an arrow to the gut. Xia’s gaze darted down the length of him, a wistfulness in her expression as she shook her head. “Why not leave your home, learn to ride as we do, sleep under the stars and turn away from everything you are?”
His face flamed as he looked away and nodded. “Understood.”
“Safe travels.” Xia winked before bolting off on her horse. The others followed, driving their scarce livestock.
“Ready to go home, young master?” Malka’s jovial voice struck D’Jwan as irritating at the moment.
He frowned. “Not exactly. How will I tell my grandmother I mixed the potion improperly and never reached the spiritual realm?”
Malka laughed, slapping his master on the back. “You had a spiritual journey. Most men would lay down all that they own to experience such an evening.”
“How would you know? You weren’t even there.” He sighed as he walked toward the temple ruins.
“Young master, home is in the opposite direction.”
“I just have to collect what I left at the temple.”
Malka hooted. “Nothing there. Those women cleaned you out—even the donkey leaves with them. You’re lucky to still have the clothes on your back and your cock between your legs.”
D’Jwan stopped in his tracks. “What?”
“Those women were fierce raiders. They take what they want. Luck smiled upon you that you were happy to freely give what they desired of you!”
He considered all Malka had to say even as the warmth of humiliation burned his cheeks. “How do you know?”
“As I promised, I set up camp away from the ruins, but only a man without eyes or ears could have missed what unfolded when those four removed you from the temple. You put up a spectacular fight. I feared for your life. Took my sword and hid in the shadows, awaited an opening for a rescue. Ah, but the young master needed no liberation, only stamina!”
“You saw that?” He groaned.
“I did!” The old man’s voice rang with delight as a jolly smile spread across his face and he nudged D’Jwan with his elbow. “At least the start but once I was sure you were in no danger, I returned to my camp to allow you your celestial experience.”
“Droll...laugh all you want but you must not tell Grandmother.”
“I will be as silent as the grave,” he answered but before D’Jwan could breathe easily, Malka added, “unless she asks me.” D’Jwan grimaced and the old man hemmed and hawed. “Oh, come now, young master, I jest...I jest.”
* * * * *
HAVING LEFT SCYLEIA and Micah behind to set up camp, Xia and Kepes sat on their mounts as they trotted side-by-side.
“Why are we tracking them?” Kepes huffed.
“Because I ordered you to go with me.” Xia cut her gaze at her friend and smirked. Kepes shot her a look of annoyance and shrugged, eliciting a laugh from her commander.
“You aren’t going to tell me?” Kepes paused for an answer but none was forthcoming. “Are you making sure the handsome dirt slave gets home safely?”
“If that was the case, I would have followed them from the beginning and stayed close.”
Clicking her tongue as she rode, Kepes groused until she hatched another possible answer. “Are we going to raid his settlement?”
“No.”
Kepes pulled her steed’s mane while commanding he halt. “I will ride no more until you give me an answer!” She straightened her back and raised her nose in the air.
Xia giggled, enjoying the rise she had gotten out of her fellow warrior. “I simply want to know where he lives.”
“Why?” Kepes’s voice filled with insistence.
Slightly embarrassed, Xia looked away. She had no desire to answer and wished Kepes would simply drop the subject, regardless of how unlikely that was to happen.
“Answer... We are going to raid them!”
Xia shook her head. “The opposite is true. I have to know where he lives so we never hit them.”
Eyes widening as if they might pop right out of their sockets, Kepes stared at Xia as she gasped. “Losing your edge?”
Xia lifted her eyebrow in warning. “Never.”
“Those other men we spent time with from that rich, dirt-loving settlement of Scythians—”
“They were fun.” Xia interrupted.
“Yes, but that didn’t stop you from hitting the outskirts of their village!” Kepes called Xia on the hypocrisy.
“The two instances bear no resemblance to each other. The Scythian nobles ruling there had once been nomads who became merchants. I bear no ill against buying and selling but to greedily gather so much that they could no longer carry it...sitting their asses down in the same spot every night, letting their feet grow roots and their bellies bulge with fat? Disgusting! I’ll not let them keep their entire precious horde.”
Kepes laughed. “And the fine, young farmer with his manservant and garb colored with expensive dye? He’s different?” Xia tapped her horse with her heel to set him moving again and Kepes followed, keeping up with her leader. “I’ll admit I enjoyed him too, but...” Kepes’s voice drifted off as if she’d lost her train of thought.
“D’Jwan was never a nomad nor were those who came before him. He never stood a chance. Those Scythian nobles turned their backs on our ways and let their asses grow soft.”
Kepes nodded, “Fair enough.”
“There.” Xia lifted her chin in the direction of a dirt path leading to a vineyard. “That is where the trail leads us. We will circle to look closer and then head back to camp.”
