I spat the piece of meat, staring it in disgust.

Currently, sitting in the warrior camp, I was sitting with my dinner. I could eat meat, but the fact it was undercooked and possibly raw on the inside made me want to puke.

The terracotta bowl contained figs, olives, and a humble piece of meat that I'd just couldn't swallow. And this was supposed to be my dinner.

Sigh

Humble because I had seen slaves having only those barely digestible desert fruits. While master invader was gracious enough to raise me from the slave bracket by tossing a chunk of half-cooked meat.

I could be wrong as well. People in olden times worked their asses off so it could be a reason for their excellent digestive system that they didn't need to overcook stuff.

But oh yeah, the E. coli bacteria.

Eating whatever few olives I could, I picked the figs and discreetly buried them in the muddy ground of the camp. Fruits must be juicy, not a shrivelled excuse of a fig.

My only hope was the meat, which could also have the infamous E. coli. A bacterium which makes a person throw up multiple times if not destroyed during the cooking process.

My guess was that people here had an intestine, strong enough to digest the bacteria itself.

I got up with the half-eaten piece of meat and stood at the camp's entrance. Master invader had warned not to step out, or he would chain my ankle with those melon-sized iron balls.

With the only food dangling in my hand, I peeked out to check if he was there or any other recognizable face. My gaze shifted to the night sky.

The sky was buzzing with stars. Literally packed that it was difficult to view the dark blue shade of the night sky.

I looked up in awe.

Back in the twenty-first century, because of elevated buildings and ground level lighting system, the starlight got shadowed. Not to mention the nasty rule of pollution, one ends up staring at the blank sky, which in reality is crowded by a shimmering glow.

Similar camps were set all across this area, which was a border to another city. Men sat around small bonfires, having drinks and chuckling at each other's wild fantasies.

My stomach growled, reminding me of the starving state.

Since Julian was an important companion of Alexander, it could be possible he was in one of the camps. After I had parroted everything written in the AI book, he had taken it back and gone out after warning me.

He didn't return until this time.

Stepping out of the camp with utter caution, I tiptoed around for one last check.

Surrounding clear. Now I needed a little fire.

Searching the area, I only found hulks of men sitting closely around the one thing that could soften my meat to an eatable entity.

They made female slaves to sit on their lap as the probably drunkards yelped like a pack of jackals at sexist jokes.

The poor women would flinch at the voices, causing their masters to make them the centre of attraction.

"Look at that. She fears my voice itself." A warrior gripped his slave's chin, planting sloppy kisses down her neck. Everyone leered at the depiction.

"Man, she looks like a lamb in a lion's arm, doesn't she?" another suggested, smiling smugly.

"That she is, my pretty little war prize," the warrior guffawed. He wrapped his bulky arms around her waist and pushed her against his chest. "What does the lion do to the lamb, my Mila?" he asked her innocently, face buried in her hair.

"He e- eats it," she trembled, shuddering as he began biting on her neck softly.

"Mhm.. that's what I will do to my lamb tonight," and everyone roared with laughter.

As much as I felt bad for the woman, I was thankful Julian didn't do this to me.

Going far from the group as possible, I spotted an old woman shifting heavy utensils to the side. That was an open kitchen within the campsite.

"Greetings, mistress," I bowed my head as she raised her wrinkled face to look at who had come to bother her.

A flash of recognition crossed her features, and she stood bolt upright, a withered hand resting on her waist for support.

"You Julian's woman?" she warbled.

How was I supposed to answer that?

"Uh yeah..." I trailed. My eyes immediately caught the much-needed fire.

"Can I, um, use that?" I pointed to the flame that was close to extinguishing out.

"Sure, sure," she did the extra work of bringing some twigs and threw them in the fire. The flames rose.

I bowed quickly and crouched near the minor source of light, eagerly waving the piece of meat above it.

The oldie came and sat next to me.

"Oh, my!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

I explained something on the lines of a weak stomach and she kept nodding along, staring at my face with a gaping mouth.

When I was finished, I toyed with the piece of bone awkwardly, finding a way to get out of this area. Any more and I'll burn from the stare she had pinned on me.

"Uh, I have to go now-"

"Beware of the eye sellers, woman," she stared deep into my eyes, a lopsided smile twitching on her lips.

"They kidnap people, mostly woman who have exotic eyes. After gouging out the eye, they keep it in a watery thing which hardens the eyeball, turning them into gems."

My heart went into overdrive.

"Like your eyes," she continued, "it would make beautiful blue gems you know," her laughter echoed like a witch, grin turning wider the more she looked into my eyes.

I passed her the most nerve wrecked smile and bolted for the camp.

When she was out of sight, I slowed down. It was unbearably hot, given no wind was moving. Everything appeared stilled in this Egyptian desert. Biting on the bone, I reached the camp.

My doom stood with his arms crossed, looking mad as ever.

I removed the piece of bone slowly from my mouth, fixing my eyes on his neck for the moment being.

"Explain," he uttered a single word.

"It was uncooked..," I shook the bone subtly, "so I uh cooked it a bit, on fire-"

"Inside," he jerked his chin for me to enter.

I stood motionless in the camp's corner as he attached the chain of heavy metal ball to my ankle. Locking it in a way impossible to open with my hands.

"Go to the bed," he ordered, removing the metal caskets he wore in his arms. Then began to scrub his body with a wet cloth.

"I- I can sleep on the ground..." I mumbled, my heart beating in my throat.

He turned around in surprise, staring with hooded eyes,

"I take my time to do it with pure women," he chuckled lowly, "If that's what bothering your not so pure head."

Damn my crazy estrogen to hell.

"Althea Rosemary," he trudged forward, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, "It's nauseating when women cry. I prefer the screaming ones,"

My legs, chained to the metal ball, collided with the bed, but I steadied myself.

I can't lose my sanity and accidentally crash on the bed. Not when I couldn't run.

"And it takes time to make a woman scream," he leant closer.

One of his fingers pulled a strand of hair behind my ear, twirling it on his finger. "Don't you think so?"

His rugged hand caressed the slightest of my face. My eyes closed instinctively.

His presence was a drug. As lethal as some drug whose single dose would drop me straight to the twenty-first century.

"Coming to the time, we'll have plenty of it, Mila," he whispered, tucking the loose strand back in its place. He distanced himself in the blink of an eye, just as he'd closed on.

The knowing look in his eyes told it wasn't a threat, but a promise he would fulfil one day. A disastrous promise.