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Before I could say another thing, several women villagers abruptly pressed forward and started shouting at the men in the ring. Puzzled, I glanced over at Vicente. “What’s going on? Why are they suddenly shouting?”

He listened and then laughed. “The villagers think you’re giving your man instructions on how to fight. Not to be outdone, they’re now offering suggestions to the chief.”

Stunned, I looked around. What had previously been a silent battle among the competitors, was now a cacophony of calls and cheers, but from the women only. The men were staying quiet. Somehow I’d broken that taboo for the women.

I’d lost track of what was going on with the match, so I returned my attention to the ring. Twice the chief got close enough for Slash to grab him, spin him around and throw him to the ground. The second time, Slash did another martial arts movement, rolling the chief over his hip. For a second, my heart stopped when Slash lost his balance and teetered near the edge of the circle. The chief managed to slip away and lunged at Slash. Just as he was about to shove Slash out of the circle, Slash regained his balance and danced out of the way.

The villagers went wild, cheering and yelling, the men finally joining in. I pressed a hand to my chest where my heart was beating like crazy, until I saw the barely detectable smile on Slash’s face. I blew out a breath, realizing he was adding drama to the fight.

The chief changed tactics and picked up the branch I’d dropped inside the ring. He whirled it around with impressive ability, then jabbed it at Slash. Slash feinted and then danced sideways, staying just out of reach of the stick. But the chief was highly experienced and wielded the stick with breathtaking speed. Twice he managed to club Slash hard on the side of the head, and I didn’t think Slash had let him do it.

OMG! Slash couldn’t lose.

Suddenly, there was a huge shift in the wind. Thick smoke from the bonfire started blowing into the circle, obscuring our view of the men.

Holy smoke!

Just as the smoke descended, the chief hit Slash in a brutal double tap. The first smash landed on Slash’s right cheek, the second one went directly into his stomach. Slash stumbled backward as I gasped. The shaman quickly moved behind Slash to detect if he stepped out of the circle.

After that the chief began to rain blow after blow upon Slash. Concerned he was taking the acting too far, I shouted at him, swinging my fists. “Come on, Slash, fight back. Get him, get him!”

But he didn’t, and I began to seriously worry. It was hard to be sure, but it looked like his eyes were partially closed. Possibly to protect them from the smoke or had the chief’s repeated hits to the head affected him? It was hard to tell.

I wished I could see his face better. The smoke had given him a shadowy, mysterious silhouette. It seemed like he was staggering. Apparently, the chief thought so, too. Ready to claim victory, the chief held the stick horizontally across his chest with both hands and bellowed, clearly intending to rush him. As he reared back to run at Slash, the smoke suddenly parted. In one giant leap, Slash leapt forward to confront the chief, grabbing on to the stick. For a moment, the two stood eye to eye, struggling to push it against the other. The crowd screamed in excitement, while my heart pounded so hard I could barely breathe.

Grunting, the two men fought for purchase in the soft dirt. Slash slowly began to make headway pushing the chief closer to the stones. When they were right at the edge, the chief stepped backward on a sharp rock and began a slow topple out of the circle. He windmilled his arms, defeat on his face. But before he landed, Slash shot out a hand, grabbed the chief’s arm and yanked him back into the circle. Then he moved toward the center of the circle and motioned with his hand for the chief to continue the fight.

The village fell completely silent except for the occasional popping of the bonfire. The chief was frozen, the shaman’s face was expressionless, and I covered my mouth with both hands because I wasn’t sure if I should cheer or gasp.

I’d no idea if we’d won, if the match would continue, or if we were all about to die.

After what seemed like an eternity, the chief walked toward Slash and said something. Both Slash and I looked at Vicente for translation.

“The chief says you’re a worthy warrior.”

Slash dipped his head in acknowledgment of the compliment. “Tell him, he’s a warrior worthy of leading this village.”

Vicente translated. The chief then took a minute to survey all the villagers before he turned and stepped out of the circle.

The village went completely nuts. People were shouting, cheering and gathering around the chief. Apparently he had performed heroically, which made him successful in the villagers’ eyes.

But I only had eyes for one man.

I ran to him, jumping into his arms, winding my arms around his neck and wrapping my legs around his waist. “You did it, Slash. You really did it.” I rained kisses over his shoulders, neck and face. “Are you hurt? You got hit a lot of times.”

He tightened his arms around me, pressing his face into the side of my cheek. “Right now, I’m good. In fact, the best I’ve ever been. You’re alive and that’s what matters.”

Vicente joined us in celebrating, clapping Slash on the back and giving me a hug. After a couple of amazing kisses, Slash glanced over at Vicente, but kept his arm tight around me. “Okay, what’s next?”

Vicente raised both hands. “Your guess is as good as mine. No idea.”

Eventually the shaman approached us and stretched out a fisted hand to Slash. While we watched, he uncurled his fist. Nestled inside was a small stone.

Slash looked at Vicente, puzzled. “What’s this for?”

Vicente translated the request to the shaman and after he heard the response, turned back to Slash. “He says Lexi must bear your mark.”

I took a step back. “Oh, no. Tell him I donotwant a mark.”