Savage Betrayal (29 page)

Seeing his glance run over her, she hugged herself and assured him she was fine, only bruised. “You arrived just in time. I’m so very grateful to you and your men.” She nodded in their direction. “My family will want to thank you and reward you for my rescue.”

She looked up into his gaze. “I’m so relieved to be rescued from those wicked men. I shudder to think what they were going to do.” Here she bowed her head and was quiet for a moment, striving desperately to regain her self-control in front of these strangers.

Mention of her family started an idea in Feast Giver’s fertile brain. Perhaps she and her family, owing him a debt of gratitude, could help him find his sister. Aloud he said, as he saw her bowed head and shaking shoulders, “Mistress, my men and I are glad we arrived when we did. Please think no more of it. We were happy to help you.”

“You’re very gallant, sir. Truly, I am grateful.” She wiped a corner of her left eye. She would not, could not, break down in front of these men. Regaining her composure, she straightened and met his bold gaze. “Might I know your name, sir? I see by your dress that you are of the nobility. I, too, am of good family,” she said proudly.

Better and better
, thought Feast Giver. If her family was influential, maybe he could get his sister released and humiliate Fighting Wolf publicly. Still, he didn’t want to let her know too much, since they were in Fighting Wolf’s territory. “My name is Feast Giver,” he said shortly. “How is it that are by yourself, out in the middle of the sea, on a small island?”

“Oh, I was not alone, at first,” she explained. “I and my two old retainers were gathering flowers on my yearly flower-gathering expedition to this island. There were so many flowers I decided to stay overnight. The Kwakiutl attacked us and killed my slaves. They had other plans for me,” she added wryly. “They were going to eat me.”

“I suppose they were,” said Feast Giver doubtfully, “but they didn’t look like they had a meal in mind when we arrived on the scene.” Then he frowned. “Gathering flowers? You risked your life to gather flowers, woman? That wasn’t very smart,” he said angrily.

Precious Copper was surprised at his tone. “I always gather these particular flowers at this time of year,” she said defensively.

Thinking sympathetically of what she had just been through, Feast Giver relaxed his stance a little. “Never mind,” he muttered. “But if you were my wife, I certainly wouldn’t let you go so far from the village with only two old slaves for protection.”

“I’m not married, sir,” she replied demurely, eyes cast down.

“Oh, I see,” answered Feast Giver, neutrally. She was certainly an attractive woman. Perhaps later when relations between their two families were established, he might…With an effort, he drew his thoughts back to the present. “What is your name?” he inquired.

“Precious Copper.”

“Hmmm, that name sounds Kwakiutl.”

“It is. My grandmother hailed from that group of people. When I was born, she told everyone they would come to value me above all else. The Kwakiutl put all their wealth into those large pieces of copper that they give away at potlatches on special occasions. They have powerful names for those valuable pieces of copper and each piece has an illustrious history. My grandmother was very insistent and so the name stuck.” She smiled at him, her dimples showing.

Even in the firelight, her smile lit up her face. Feast Giver could only stare for a moment. She really was very beautiful. But more than that, there was something kindly and honest about her that seemed to shine forth from her eyes and smile. Then, realizing he was staring rudely, he turned to his men and gave orders to make camp. “Can I lend you one of my cedar mats for a blanket?” he inquired solicitously. “We’ll take you home in the morning. I’m sorry it can’t be tonight, but my men are weary and we’re new to this area.”

She flashed her lovely smile and graciously accepted his offer of the blanket. “The morning will be fine,” she answered. “I thought I’d never see my home again, so a short wait is no hardship.”

She retired to the far side of the fire, and seeing that the men respectfully gave her a wide berth, she rolled herself into the soft mat. She lay awake for a short while, reliving the events of the day. She shuddered as she realized anew how close to rape and death she had come at the hands of the vicious marauders.

Then her thoughts took a pleasanter turn as she dwelt for a while on her rescuer. He certainly was a handsome man, she thought wistfully. Had there been a man like that in her village, she would not have hesitated to encourage his suit! He seemed honorable, too, and concerned about what happened to her…On this note, she drifted off into a much-needed, dreamless sleep.

Precious Copper awoke to the smell of fish roasting in the hot coals of the fire. These travelers certainly ate well! In the daylight of the foggy morning, she noted uneasily how well-armed the men were.

Carefully straightening her clothes, she did her best to appear presentable. Her braids had come loose, so, using her fingers for a comb, she did her best to re-braid the long strands. Finally, she felt she was as neat as could be expected. She looked around. All around her, the men were busy with domestic tasks, cooking fish or sharpening weaponry they had.

She spotted Feast Giver standing alone, at a small distance from the fire. Folding the cedar mat carefully, she approached Feast Giver and handed him the mat. “Thank you for the blanket,” she said politely. “I was very comfortable in its warmth during the night.”

He smiled, pleased to see in the full light of day that he’d been correct. She was indeed beautiful. His voice reflected his pleasure as he answered, “I’m glad you slept well. After we’ve eaten, we’ll paddle to your village and return you to your family.”

She smiled. “Yes, my brother and uncle will be very pleased to hear how you rescued me.”

“Please, do not concern yourself with that,” he replied modestly. In the role of host, he offered, “Would you like some cooked salmon? It should be ready now.”

At her assent, they walked over to the fire and he pulled a large piece of the succulent fish from the hot ashes and placed it on a broad leaf before handing it to her. She thanked him politely and sat down beside him. They ate breakfast in silence, both very hungry and somewhat shy.

Neither knew what to say to the other as the silence lengthened. At last, Precious Copper broke the impasse. “I notice your men are all well-armed. May I ask why?”

Glad for an opening to talk about his mission, Feast Giver answered enthusiastically, “We’re searching for my sister. She’s supposed to be in this area. We’ve come to take her back home.”

Precious Copper nodded. “Perhaps I, and my family, will be able to help you locate her. Then you won’t need to use all those weapons,” she said, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Surprised at her astuteness, he grinned balefully, “Yes, you may save us a fight.”

“My family has much influence in this area,” she said proudly. “Many people respect my brother and if he makes inquiries, they’ll tell him honestly where she is. I don’t want you to regret rescuing me,” she added. “I’ll do all I can to help you find her.”

Pleased, Feast Giver asked, “About your brother…Just how influential is he? The man who took my sister is supposed to be very powerful, too. Maybe they know each other,” he said speculatively. “Maybe your brother won’t care to go against this man—”

“Oh no,” answered Precious Copper hastily. “My brother is very honorable. When he finds out that you saved my life, he’ll help you.” She looked down at the sand before explaining shyly, “You see, I’m his only family. Our parents are dead and we have no one else.”

“I see,” smiled Feast Giver. “You’re telling me you’re very important to your brother. Well, I certainly won’t turn down any offer of help.” Then, in a lower voice, he confided, “It’s like that for me and my sister. She’s my only close family, except for my father, who is ailing. I don’t know how long he’ll live,” he concluded sadly. Then, seeing her look of sympathy, he added hastily, “But I did not intend to burden you with my problems. It’s just that you are very easy to talk to.”

Precious Copper reached out and patted his hand. “Allow me to help you with your mission,” she said. “That’s the least I can do to repay you.”

Amazed he was so vulnerable to this quiet beauty, Feast Giver carefully changed the topic. “What’s your brother’s name? Perhaps I’ve heard of him, although I do come from a goodly distance.”

“My brother’s name is Fighting Wolf,” said Precious Copper proudly, oblivious to the effect the name had on the Hesquiat.

Feast Giver started visibly, and his mouth dropped open for a moment. Quickly he recovered himself, glad to see she had not noticed his reaction. “He’s the war chief of my people.” She turned to look at him. “That’s why I know we’ll find your sister. Fighting Wolf has many warriors he can call upon to aid in a search.”

Feast Giver was looking at her oddly. His eyes had narrowed and he did not look quite so friendly. Inadvertently, a shiver of fear ran through her. Hesitantly she asked, “Have I said something wrong?”

He looked at her for a long moment, then suddenly threw back his head and broke into loud gales of laughter. Startled, Precious Copper looked at him and then at his men for some explanation for his strange behavior. They appeared as surprised as she was. After his loud, mocking guffaws had died down—it didn’t seem like genuine laughter to Precious Copper—he explained casually to his gaping men, “Her brother’s name is Fighting Wolf.”

Instantly, ten pairs of hostile eyes were upon her.

Precious Copper wanted to shrink under their cold scrutiny. “What--? Why--?” she began. She jumped to her feet and demanded in a low, controlled voice, “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

No one answered. Feast Giver rose to his feet. Towering above her, he reached out and lifted her chin with one brown finger. Tremulously, she gazed up at him, “My sister’s name,” he explained softly, almost regretfully, “is Sarita.”

The enormity of what he had said struck Precious Copper like a blow. “Sarita?” she could only repeat helplessly. Stunned, she cried, “Oh no! Oh nooo! Then, you—your men—are all--!”

“That’s right,” Feast Giver answered a mocking smile on his lips. “We’re Hesquiats. Your enemies!” He laughed, and it was not a pleasant sound. “But tell me,” he continued, dropping his hand from her chin, “how you, the sister of Fighting Wolf, know the name of one particular slave so well?”

He had a terrible suspicion as to why she immediately recognized his sister’s name, but he wanted to hear the answer from her own lips.

“Why should I tell you anything?” she shot back. “As you just so clearly stated, we’re enemies!” Her eyes were like burning coals, she was so angry. Caught! Again. Only this time was far worse, she feared.

“Let’s kill her now,” spoke up an older warrior. “My nephew died in that slaughter her no-good brother led. She must die. Now!” There were several grunts in agreement from the watching men.

Feast Giver appeared to consider their words, but only for a moment. He held up his hand for silence. “No, men. I have a better idea,” he said. “We’ll take her back to our village. She’ll be our hostage. As such, her brother will be forced to ransom her. What better ransom than my sister, Sarita?”

Some of the men continued to mutter, and hearing them, Feast Giver argued, “That way, we’ll get my sister back with no loss of men. We have too few men to risk right now. It would be disastrous to lose any more to that no-good Ahousat. And,” he continued with emphasis, “think how shamed Fighting Wolf will be when others learn his sister has been captured and he’s been forced to ransom her! It will take him a long time to live down that blow to his honor!” This last point made good sense to the men, and they finally nodded in agreement.

Precious Copper, however, caught the older warrior’s intent gaze at her. He did not look at all pleased, and she knew she would have to stay away from him.

“Gather up your gear,” ordered Feast Giver. “Let’s head out. Now. There’s no telling when her snake of a brother is going to come looking for her.” He glanced at Precious Copper but she lifted her chin defiantly and turned away.

Thus it was a short time later than a war canoe with eleven men and one disheartened woman hostage paddled swiftly back up the coast to Hesquiat village.

Fighting Wolf was sitting in the longhouse of his uncle, Scarred Mouth. It was evening, and several people were gathered about the fire. The nights were starting to get colder now, but the days were still warm. Summer was on the wane.

Fighting Wolf relaxed as he chatted leisurely with his friends. His uncle had given a small feast to honor visitors from a nearby village and now the guests were being entertained with singing and dancing. While the musicians played, the audience listened quietly and gave its full attention to the performers.

At that moment, silence reigned. In the center of the house, all eyes upon them, several young women began a song of welcome. Dressed in their cedar finery, they looked like exquisite flowers swaying gently in time to the song. They shook wooden rattles to keep the beat and provide an agreeable counterpoint to their lovely voices.

Fighting Wolf had admired one of the rattles, earlier in the evening. Carved from alder wood, the rattle was shaped like a bird, hollowed inside, and filled with small pebbles. The craftsmen had paid careful attention to detail and the bird, a duck, looked very realistic.

At the end of the song, the young women smiled and vacated the center, giggling and laughing softly as they ran to the side of the room and squeezed together onto a seating platform.

The next performer was a thin, attractive young man. He was accompanied by several other men drumming rhythmically with wooden sticks on a long plank laid across shorter sticks. His was a song of peace, and reassured the guests of the long-standing friendship between their peoples. The singer had a high-pitched voice that contrasted pleasantly with the deeper voices of drummers when they sang the chorus.