Despite the sorrow and fear twisting my insides from my first trip back in time, I found myself curious about the place and time I knew nothing about. I was extroverted by nature and interested in people and their lives. When feeling returned to my hands and feet, I stood and went to the wall of the tent, wanting to know what kind of material could completely block the cold and wind of the open plains outside.
"Felt," I murmured and traced my fingertips down the thick, plush wool wall. It was too sturdy to be soft and so dense, not the faintest whisper of a breeze penetrated it.
The walls managed to block most of the ambient sound from outside as well. I opened the entrance without leaving, watching as a tent seven times the size of the one I was in was being erected nearby under the stern gaze of Ghoajin. More women were in this part of the camp, some with headdresses and others who appeared to be waiting on them.
The two guards that followed me from the front of the army were at the door. Neither spoke or moved when I took another step out, and I gazed at them. They wore layers of wool and leather without the fur that lined the clothing of the commander. The blades of their swords were curved, the sheaths plain and they carried bows at their backs. Knives of varying sizes were at their waists, along with thick leather belts inlaid with iron filigree in the shapes of animals.
Ghoajin motioned for two women bearing burlap wrapped bundles on their backs to follow and led them back to me. I entered the warm tent once more, a little nervous about how they would receive someone who seemed to fall from the sky. I was in desperate need of a nap and had no idea what social protocol I should know about this time period. I didn't sweat the eighteen forties and shrugged my shoulders.
Carter wanted something from me. I was safe here, at least until I did what he wanted.
I watched the woman in charge sort through the contents of the bundles.
"I have brought my best clothing. My ceremonial clothes," Ghoajin told me and carefully unrolled long gowns of wool like hers.
"You don't have to do this," I said, surprised.
"It is my duty, Moonbeam." She gave me an odd look. "You cannot meet our Khan dressed as you are."
I glanced down and tried not to smile. I was dressed in my twenty first century pajamas and a long, wool habit from the mid-eighteen hundreds. If nothing else, I was going to freeze to death if I didn't change into something more suitable.