"Batu!" he exclaimed when close enough.
I focused on the mane of my horse, not feeling well enough at all to care what they spoke about. A real bed was my only concern. That, and not embarrassing myself by falling off my horse before we made it to the tent town.
The rider returned to the tents, and soon, several people were gathered at its edge. I didn't feel up to greeting anyone and sighed. It was past sunset, though plenty of light remained. My legs were shaky, my hand throbbing and my skin clammy.
But I wasn't going to tell Batu I was weak.
We reached the people, and he dismounted, cheerfully greeting several men and two older women. I waited until everyone's attention was elsewhere before dismounting and leaning against my horse.
How was it possible I felt worse on the ground than I did in the saddle? I leaned for a long moment, closing my eyes and breathing in the scent of leather and horse. Gathering what strength I had left, I straightened, resolved not to appear weak to the hardy people of the steppes.
Several more people had joined Batu, who appeared to be telling a story by the grin on his face and his expressive hand gestures.
"Moonbeam?" The voice was ancient, thin and papery.
I faced the old woman who looked like she was over a hundred. Wrinkles engulfed her feature as she smiled. White hair was piled on top of her head, and she was hunched over a cane. Her dark eyes were bright, and she wore a white feather in her hair.
White feather. Like that worn by the spry young woman who helped me when I first landed in Mongol Empire before the pills.
"Ghoajin?" I asked hesitantly.
She laughed, the sound coming out mostly air.
"Omigod!" I was on the verge of squealing but didn't, not wanting to draw more attention to how different I was. I did, however, hug her gently.
"I told … Batu … to find you or not … return," she told me in her ancient voice.
I laughed. "You've lost none of your edge!" Leaning away, I was careful not to disrupt her precarious balance or mine.
"You have not … aged, Moonbeam," she said, squinting at my features. "What happened … to you?"
"Well, it's a little difficult to explain," I started. "I was put into a deep sleep for a very long time."
She nodded, though I sensed she didn't understand. I didn't know how anyone could. "It is good to see you, Moonbeam. You will … come to my ger." She turned and started away. "Batu!" she belted.