Captive Travelers (19 page)

Wacasa nestled against him, completely wasted and satisfied. She inhaled his scent; leather mixed with spice and the musky heaviness of sex. It had been a long time since she felt so completely satisfied and content.

It seemed odd that she had no fear or doubts about staying with him. None of the strange unease she used to have concerning plans for her future lurked as a warning in her mind. Wacasa felt comfortable with the rhythm and her life with the tribe. Scooting closer and wrapping her arm over Nashoba’s chest, her eyes finally closed. Her last thought before drifting to sleep was to hope that Kayla could bring her warrior down from the hills for the ceremony.

The shaman returned to his teepee after their meeting. He stared into his fire, with the spirit women meditating and chanting. Two of the signs had already been shown to him, with Tokala’s death and the Wolf’s joining with the white woman. For the third sign, he took the bones from his worn leather pouch and tossed them.

The eagle claws rested in the middle. Surrounding them was the single Wolf fang, split tip of the cow horn, and the knife tip with the raven claw resting on it. Closest to these was a jumble of tokens, and he knew they concerned the rendezvous. It would be interesting, this year.

Further out in the circle from the trinkets of his mystical castings, three tokens he had marked for the travelers rested side by side in the dirt. His eyes narrowed on the split cow horn. The side with the ox pointed to the travelers, the other rested securely with the horse. The spirits were asking a great sacrifice, and he would need to discuss this with Chief Paytah.

* * * * *

Kayla stood on the ledge, looking down on the Wehali settlement. It had been two days since she caught sight of Aubrey sitting in front of the chief’s tent with Nashoba, the shaman, and some women. She felt a twinge of loneliness, even though she enjoyed the solitude with her warrior. Kayla rarely mentioned her friends or returning to the village. She was afraid that if she were insulted Ahiga would get injured fighting for her.

Ahiga walked silently up behind her and wrapped his arms under her breasts, pulling her against his chest. He knew he had to bring her down to the village, but he did not want her upset with the tribe’s smirks and insults. Ahiga still believed that his tribe considered her a traitor.

A flash of color through the trees at the edge of the meadow caught Kayla’s eye. “Someone’s coming.”

“The shaman,” Ahiga replied. It was a long trip for the old man to make. He watched the Indian climb the hill, and braced himself for the news. Ahiga felt a nervous hitch in his stomach, with a fleeting thought that the shaman would announce the raven must be returned to the tribe. This, he could not do. Any other sacrifice, Ahiga would make willingly… but he would not give back Wyonet. “Make us some tea.”

Wyonet disappeared into the cave, brushing away tears. Ahiga had stiffened behind her; she had felt his stomach tighten and felt the jaw resting on her head clench tightly. Whatever news the shaman was bringing, Ahiga was not looking forward to hearing.

She stared at her lap while the two Indians spoke. The shaman rose and walked back down the hill without ever acknowledging her. Wyonet waited patiently for Ahiga to speak.

“We are to return to the village tomorrow at noon. Wacasa is to be adopted into the tribe, and then she and Nashoba are to be married.” Ahiga gazed into her blue eyes and tried to judge her reaction. She stared at him, but did not speak. “Wyonet, you are to be made a member of the tribe as well.”

Her eyes widened. “And?”

Ahiga toyed with the fringe on her sleeve, and said softly, “The shaman sees us bonded together, but there was a sign blocking a marriage between us. This may change in the future, but he has only seen the sign that you are to join the tribe.”

Wyonet smiled and curled her arms around his neck. “As long as we stay together, it’s all right with me.” Since she had healed from her cleansing, they spent their mornings and evenings running different paths along the hills and through the forest. Ahiga had shown her what roots and plants to collect for their meals while he hunted. He had also shown her a very different sort of pleasure.

Wyonet felt his fingers brushing through her hair, and without warning he gripped deep into her tresses. Her lips smiled against his, and she looked into the black depths of his eyes.
Oh… oh, yes.
Her body responded with anxious anticipation, and she trembled while she gazed back at him. Passion and desire burned in his stare, and she knew that she was in for a torturous scene. He backed her against the stone wall where soft leather straps were secured. Wyonet let out a frightened gasp when he pulled her shift over her head. Ahiga lashed her wrists to the wall, and her mind flashed briefly on her time secured to the cleansing poles.

He did not always bind her for torment before they had sex. Most times, they rolled in the furs delighting each other. Sometimes a cloud would settle over Ahiga. He remembered the woman who had deceived him, and worried over the raven’s purported deception of the warrior in the other world. Wyonet paid for the transgressions through his tortures, but his desperate visage always lifted when he worked through his pent up fears and frustrations. He slowly transformed her suffering into a pleasure that blended with the pain. Wyonet trusted him, and she knew he would never harm her. Over the course of time with him in the cave, she found herself looking forward to the erotic sessions.

He stood naked and magnificent in front of her. Wyonet’s eyes traveled the length of his body, studying the planes and ridges of muscles until they focused on his cock, standing firm and proud through a mat of black curls. He raised the lash and she licked her lips nervously, tears brimming as she anticipated his target.

The whip snapped forward, searing the side of her breast. The raven feather jumped and swayed, kissing her tender flesh with a gentle stroke that contradicted the pain of the lash. She bit her lip. Ahiga wanted her silence while he tormented her. The other breast received his attention, and a matching pink welt ridged the creamy surface.

Ahiga’s eyes fixed on the marks and the whip dropped from his fingers. He walked up to his captive and smeared the tears on her cheeks. A part of him was angry that he enjoyed her pain, and her fearful eyes excited him. His hand reached between her legs and he stroked her pussy, pleased and relieved to feel her need.

Wyonet pushed her hips into his hand and moaned. She could see the anguish in his eyes. “Untie me, Ahiga,” she whispered. “Help me put salve on the welts.”

He worked silently and sat next to her on the furs, massaging the ointment into her flesh. When he first noticed the forgiveness in her eyes it angered him. Ahiga took this as a sign of his weakness. Wyonet had lain next to him in the dark and told him she never wanted to leave him. She had run her hand down his chest and told him how he made her feel safe. She said that if he needed this to outrun the ugliness, then she could bear it for him.

His desires had become eccentric, with him leaving her breathlessly pleading on the edge of passion while he kept her bound and stroked her pussy, thrusting fingers and brushing her clit until she writhed in need for him and cried. Always, she curled beside him and slept in the protection of his arms. And now… and now his tribe had learned she was no seducer to the other world’s warrior. She was a seductress to only Ahiga. She would be Wehali, and Ahiga silently prayed for the wisdom of the spirits to foresee a future binding her to him as his wife.

The next morning, they ran along the foothills and then splashed each other in the cool stream that flowed near their cave. Wyonet sat between his strong thighs, preparing his breakfast while he combed out her hair. Several times she had caught him staring at her with a look she could not discern.

“Have I done something wrong, Ahiga? Or are you worried about going down to the village?” Wyonet put down her cup when he did not answer. “Are you worried that you might have to fight again?”

His chest puffed out with the sting at his pride. “I can beat any warrior in the tribe.”

“I know that.” Wyonet stirred her finger in the dirt. “Do you think there will be a fight?” Wyonet thought she saw fear in his eyes… the same fear that built when he tormented her.

“You are to be Wehali, Wyonet. Any warrior will be able to approach you to join him.”

Wyonet’s mouth dropped open. She put down her cup and crawled over to him. Her hands cupped under his strong jaw, and she looked into his eyes. “Ahiga, I love you. You are the fiercest warrior. Why would I choose another? You have protected me and taught me to survive.” She leaned forward and gave him a deep kiss, and rubbed her head on his chin. “You are my warrior, Ahiga. I will stay with you.”

Wyonet could tell he was still worried she might be deceiving him, and would choose another when she was a member of their tribe. She knew that only her actions after the ceremony would convince him of her loyalty, so she rode silently behind him on the back of his horse.

Chapter X

Wacasa was excited, and she was thrilled when Leotie brought her own wedding shift for her to wear. It was made from soft rabbit skins with matching moccasins. Leotie pushed Nashoba out of the teepee so she could help Wacasa prepare.

“Today, you will wear your hair down,” she decided. “The golden rays will bring good fortune to you.” Leotie threaded rabbit feet and sage through Wacasa’s hair.

“Are you disappointed Nashoba is marrying a white woman?”

“You will be Wehali by the time he joins with you. You are strong and smart, and you bring a light to my son’s eyes that I have not seen in many years. It is a good match, Wacasa.” Leotie continued helping her dress. “I would like to know something.”

Wacasa turned and focused questioning green eyes on her. “Yes?”

“Do you mourn for your old world? Would you go back if you could?”

Wacasa dropped her stare, and she was silent for a moment.
Is she saying that I could go home?
Her mind flew back in time… to Aubrey and her frivolous relationships, her job as a receptionist, her classes. It seemed as though it belonged to a different person, one who was not nearly as satisfied and happy as she was now. She felt a physical pain at the thought of living her life without her warrior. Wacasa looked up at Leotie. “No. If I was given the choice, I would choose to stay with Nashoba.”

Leotie smiled. “There is no chance for you to go back. I just needed to know your answer.”

Wacasa panicked when Leotie pulled her towards the tent flap. “I don’t know what to do. What is your ceremony like?”

“The shaman will explain,” Leotie replied without looking back at her.

Nashoba was standing by the stone fire pit, speaking with his father and Tocho. Except for wearing the three eagle feathers, he was dressed in his usual breeches and bare-chested.

There was a commotion beside her, and Wacasa turned to see Waka and her friend dressed in large, shapeless shifts, and laughing at a horde of children running around them. Waka bent and picked up a little boy. “Show me your muscles.” The little boy bent a thin arm, and she squeezed it lightly and acted impressed before she put him down.

“The children adore Waka and Ganali,” Leotie said. There was a touch of sadness in her voice.

“Can I speak with her?” Wacasa asked.

“No. She will stand with her friend at the side to see the ceremony. Waka is not joining the tribe.” Leotie still gripped her hand, and she led her to Nashoba.

Wacasa stood silently while the men continued speaking. Leotie joined the spirit women, and Wacasa felt odd standing with the men. Tocho kept staring at her while he listened to the others. She thought she saw sadness in his eyes.

It took her a moment to realize Ahiga and Wyonet had joined them. Ahiga waited for Chief Paytah to nod that it was all right for him to stand in their circle. “None may challenge for her,” the Chief assured him. “You have already fought and won her, Ahiga. It will be her choice which warrior she chooses.” They all noticed the glare in his eye soften. The Chief had guessed correctly.

Wacasa whispered, “Are you getting married?”

“No,” Wyonet answered. “Not yet, anyway. I still won’t go with anyone else.”

Wacasa looked at the fierce warrior. “Doesn’t he scare you?”

“On the contrary. He makes me feel safe.” Wyonet looked up at Nashoba. “Now, that would scare the hell out of me. The chief’s son? Shit, Aubrey.”

“Wacasa… not as elegant as Wyonet, but it holds special meaning to us,” she smiled.

“Why isn’t Cici over here?”

“Waka, and I don’t know. Nashoba’s mother said Waka won’t be joining the tribe. She didn’t say why.”

The ceremonies were uneventful. Wacasa had figured they would be a somewhat elaborate affair, with dancing and drums. After the shaman touched their foreheads, called them by their Indian names and announced them Wehali, they were members of the tribe. A big downfall was that Wacasa got her wish: none of the tribe, except her family, was to speak English to her any more.

The marriage was equally as quick, with Chief Paytah laying his hand over their joined hands, and nodding. Leotie gave Wacasa a hug and spoke happy Indian wishes she did not understand. Wacasa turned to search for Wyonet, and she saw that Ahiga’s horse was already climbing the foothills. Even Waka was walking away with her friend and Soquila, with children dancing and laughing around them.

Nashoba and Leotie patiently led Wacasa through common words and phrases. Now that she was a tribal member, a few women her age introduced themselves. They were very patient helping her with their dialect, but stared blankly when Wacasa became frustrated and spoke in English.

She picked up more of the language as the weeks passed, and she was relieved to discover that hand signals sufficed when the words eluded her. Ahiga made a trip down the mountain to see the shaman, but he left Wyonet up in the hills. Wacasa figured out that they were soon traveling south for the summer rendezvous with the other tribes. Ahiga and Wyonet were asked to join them.

It took two days to make it to the meeting, and Wacasa’s thighs ached from riding behind Nashoba on his horse. There were hundreds of Indians, and Wacasa was relieved to discover that they all spoke the same tribal language. She was allowed to spend time with Wyonet. Waka and Ganali kept to themselves, in a small group with Soquila and a few other women.

Wacasa taught Wyonet some basic hand signals, and they managed to communicate pretty well. The week was filled with trading and contests, though it was not difficult to see that the main purpose was to match warriors and women.

Wyonet and Wacasa cheered their men on in the contests. The Wehali warriors were superior in skill, and swept most of the games. Then, the women began competing. They harvested baskets, showed off tanning and weaving, and held simple physical games.

Wyonet saw Ahiga standing with some men, staring across the grass to another tribe’s campsite. She followed his gaze to a tall woman standing with a brave. Her stomach lurched, and she whispered to Wacasa, “It’s her.”

“Who?” Wacasa asked, searching the bystanders on the opposite side of the field.

“The woman who tricked Ahiga.” Wyonet felt an unfamiliar seething jealousy towards the woman. She narrowed her eyes, and followed the length of the woman’s long legs and the wear of her moccasins. “She’s a runner. I should have guessed.” After months of soothing her warrior and seeing the torment in his eyes from the woman’s deception, Wyonet was as angry with her as Ahiga was.

Wyonet braided her hair like Wacasa’s, and reached into the pouch on her side. She retrieved a long, black, perfect raven feather, and slipped it through her hair.

“Are you crazy? Or are you trying to piss everyone off?” Wacasa asked. Only warriors wore feathers, and to mark herself with the sign of the raven was like advertising she was a seductress.

“That bitch already knows who I am, so I might as well announce it before she tries to use it against me. Come on.”

Wacasa followed her towards the woman. “This might not be a good idea, Kayla.”

Her friend spun around, and hissed, “Wyonet. I’m Wyonet, now… and this is the perfect idea.”

“Oh shit.”
And I have no frikkin’ idea how to say that in Wehali.
Wacasa walked nervously beside her friend, hoping Nashoba would rescue her.

Wyonet did a murderous job of hand signaling to the woman’s warrior that she wanted his knife. It looked as though she was threatening to cut his throat.
Shit, maybe she is.
Wacasa managed to convey the message. The brave looked surprised, the woman narrowed her eyes in anger, and Wacasa looked over to see Nashoba and Tocho staring at them in amusement. Ahiga did not look amused.

“Tell her I’ll race her for the knife if her stupid warrior hasn’t lost the damn thing.”

Wacasa was not quite as adept at that message, but apparently they deciphered it. The man pulled the knife out of the sheath and ran a finger over the carvings. The woman looked at Wyonet and hand signaled.

“Um, she wants to know what you are going to give her when you lose,” Wacasa interpreted. The brave signaled, and Wacasa said, “And he wants to know why Ahiga doesn’t fight for his own knife.”
Wacasa turned back towards the Wehali men.
Oh shit.
“And Ahiga saw him, because his eyes are burning into the back of your skull and his fists are clenched. You better say something before he comes over here.”

“Tell him he used this woman to get the knife, so Ahiga’s woman will get it back.”

Wacasa signed the message. She turned to see Tocho and Nashoba trying to calm Ahiga. He was chomping at the bit to come over to them.

“Tell the bitch I’ll give her my moccasins if I lose.” Wyonet pushed them off and handed them to Wacasa to hold. It had taken her over a month to tan the hide and stitch the soft boots, but she needed the excuse to take them off anyway. She ran barefoot with Ahiga.

Wacasa chanced a look at Ahiga again. He was smiling and talking to Tocho and Nashoba, with his arms crossed over his chest. He pointed at Wyonet, and the three men walked over to them. Ahiga said, “What have you bet for, Wyonet?”

“The knife.”

Ahiga looked at the enemy brave. “Then that leaves only my horse. I will take it back when Wyonet wins.”

“A raven,” the man spat. “The best you could do for a woman is a seductress.”

“Wyonet has proved herself not to be a seducer, and she wears the feather to remind the people that not all we are led to believe can be trusted.” Ahiga stared directly at the woman who had caused him so many years of anguish and humiliation. She winced at his glare, and gripped her warrior’s hand.

“And when she loses,” the man huffed. His woman was the fastest out of both the southern tribes. Unlike the Wehali, she was not kept from training in winter snows… and she was not a traveler posing as an Indian.

“Wyonet will not lose, but I will put my new horse on the bet.”

The brave looked at Wyonet, studying her lean lines and unusual blue eyes. She was younger than his woman. He knew the white woman could not win, but he did not need another horse. “I will take your raven when she loses. Then I will have taken two women from you,” he laughed.

“Wyonet is Wehali. She is mine, and I will not bet her… and I certainly do not want your slut back. Are you afraid to lose the horse to me? Perhaps he has already thrown you and run into the prairie,” Ahiga challenged.

The brave winced. The horse had indeed thrown him, many times. The stallion was a spirited animal, and if he had not made such a production out of stealing the magnificent beast, he would have given up on him years ago. Perhaps Ahiga’s new horse was easier to ride. “Horses,” he shrugged in agreement.

Wacasa held out her hand and glanced at the knife. The brave handed it to her, eyeing her closely to make sure she was not going to steal it. Wacasa backed into Nashoba, and he felt her soft trembling under the hands he placed on her shoulders.

A crowd had begun to gather after rumors spread about the wager. There were many uneasy, surprised glances at the Wehali’s Fighter who had refused to join them at the rendezvous since the woman had used him. She stood next to her brave with arrogant confidence, glaring at Wyonet. She looked down at her bare feet, and smiled. “We will run the long course, to the outside of the camps.” It was pitted with stones, and the white woman would lose quickly.

Wyonet smiled, her blue eyes flashing in a way that Wacasa knew meant she was pissed off…
really
pissed off. She winked at Wacasa, and turned towards her rival. She gave up on both Wehali dialect and hand signals, and she said, “Well, if you’re sure you want to give me that advantage.” Wyonet began walking towards the starting mark, and she called over her shoulder, “I’m so much younger than you that I’m sure this will be a quick contest.”

The other woman understood what she said, and she was seething. Wacasa covered her mouth to hide her smile, although she noticed Ahiga was doing nothing to stifle his laughter. Nashoba leaned down and whispered, “Do you think Wyonet can really win?” He did not want to consider Ahiga’s anger if she lost.

The two women were at the starting line, with spectators lined around the circumference of the dirt track. Wyonet got into position, and the loosening of her shift made one of the raven feathers flutter across her breast. She dug her toes into the dirt and turned to her opponent. In a clear, loud voice, she said, “You have seduced and disrespected a Wehali warrior.
You
are the raven, and for this you will lose.”

The other woman gasped, and the spear swung down announcing the beginning of the race. The Indian thought her moccasins would give her an advantage, as the stupid white woman would bruise her feet on the stones. She did not know that the bottoms of Wyonet’s feet had toughened from her runs with Ahiga. Her toes could grip into the soft dirt for traction. Kayla kept an easy pace, staying either even or a little behind her opponent until they reached halfway around the track. Ahiga watched her smile soften and her face lose expression. “That’s right, run from the ugliness, my beautiful Wyonet.”

Wyonet thought how unfair it had been that she had been humiliated by the Indian’s rituals for merely being accused of the same charge this woman had committed. She thought of how her betrayal had haunted Ahiga, and how the two of them were healing together. Wyonet envisioned his retribution, when he reclaimed his possessions and left his enemies weakened before their tribe. Before she knew it, she was hearing cheers. She had flown past the finish line, with the other woman three full teepee lengths behind her.

The Indian was livid, panting and gulping air. “She cheated,” she spat.

“What did she say?” Wyonet hissed.

“She said you cheated on the race,” Wacasa answered, laughing and squeezing Nashoba’s arm. Wyonet’s fists clenched, but she did not reply. She took the knife from Wacasa, and handed it to her warrior.

Ahiga looked at the other brave. He was glaring at the tired woman who had lost his pillaged treasures. “You should have cut her throat when you had the chance.” He grinned, slipping the knife into his belt. Tocho walked up with the stolen stallion, and Ahiga added, “Now you do not have a horse to ride away from her on.” The woman shrieked, and Ahiga laughed again. “But you should have no trouble outrunning that turtle.”