Savage Desire (Savage Lagonda 1) (31 page)

"Yes. My sister is right. It is the only way to combat the fever."

Palomas immediately issued the order for more water to be found, and he and Jeffery began helping Mara bathe Tajarez. It was a long and tiring process, and they stayed at the task for much of the day. It became unbelievably hot inside the tent as the three of them labored over Tajarez.

It was long after sunset when Mara felt Tajarez's forehead and saw that the fever had subsided. Wetting a cloth, she applied it to Tajarez's dry lips. She examined the wound, and saw that although it still bled a little, the wound was clean and showed no signs of infection. She had done everything possible with her limited knowledge of medicine. She could not be sure it would be enough.

Touching his face softly, she now allowed the tears she had kept bottled up inside her to flow freely. She held his limp hand to her cheek.

"Tajarez, if you can hear me, I want you to know that I love you." Realizing she had spoken in English, she began speaking in Lagonda. "I love you. You must try to get better. I need you." Hot tears fell on his hand. She leaned forward and kissed his lips softly, not caring that Jeffery and Palomas watched.

"You must rest now, Mara," her brother told her, pulling her to her feet.

"No. I will not leave him," she told Jeffery, pulling away from his grasp.

Tajarez opened his eyes. He tried to remember where he was. Why did he feel so weak? There was a pain in his chest that burned like fire. He tried to raise his hand, but found he was too weak. He looked around the tent, seeing the three people. His eyes rested on Mara, and everything came back to him. He should be dead, but it seemed he was not. The pain in his chest was all too real for him to be a part of the spirit world.

He saw Mara struggling with her brother. He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry, and no words would pass his lips. His mind rebelled against Mara's seeing him in his weakened condition.

"Palomas." The sound was hardly more than a whisper, but Mara and the two men heard him. Mara went down on her knees beside him, tears sparkling in her eyes.

"You are conscious. You are going to be all right," she choked out between sobs.

Tajarez tried to rise, but the pain was too acute. "Palomas, get her out of here," he whispered painfully.

He watched as she wiped the tears from her face and stood up slowly. Then without a backward glance, she left the tent of her own accord.

Palomas knelt down beside him. "How do you feel, my prince:

Tajarez closed his eyes, too weary to reply.

Mara made her way to her tent, and lay down upon the fur robe. She stared dry-eyed into the darkness. Tajarez would live. She was weak with relief. She said a prayer of thanksgiving to God for sparing his life, but once more she had felt the sting of Tajarez's rejection of her, and was more determined than ever that she would ask his father to allow her to return home when she reached the Seven Cities.

The next morning Tajarez awoke, feeling a little stronger. He drank some broth that had been served to him by Palomas. His wound was still very painful, but he found with Palomas's help he could sit up for short periods of time. Falling asleep once more, he slept until late afternoon. When he awoke, he saw that Palomas was still with him.

"The Kiowa were defeated, Palomas?" he asked weakly.

"When they saw that their chief was dead, they left. I do not expect they will return, but just in case they do, I have posted extra guards."

"How many of my people are dead?"

"There were twenty slain, and twelve wounded. Three of that number may not recover. The woman, Maga, was slain," Palomas told him as he named all of the dead.

"So many lost," Tajarez said wearily. "Mara was unharmed?"

Palomas laughed. "Pity the one who would come up against her. You will have your hands full, my prince, when she is your wife. She already runs my life, and that of anyone who stands in the way of her objective."

Tajarez could not fail to recognize the pride in Palomas's voice as he spoke of Mara.

"It was she that slew the Kiowa chief," Tajarez said.

Palomas nodded. "She is quite a woman, this Golden One."

"She is my woman," Tajarez said proudly.

Palomas laughed deeply. "May the Great Father help you. The joy you will find with her will be bought at a price."

Tajarez smiled. "What price?"

"You will never bend her to your will. You may lead, but she will not follow unless she is willing. You are used to everyone's jumping to do your bidding when you command it. How will you handle a small girl who is so obstinate, and does not know the first thing about following orders?"

Tajarez's smile deepened, and his dark eyes blazed. "What bends with the wind does not break. The petal of a flower will turn its face to the sun without getting scorched. Mara will be mine, and I believe she will enjoy it. I would not wish to break her; I will allow her to bend with the wind . . . but I may scorch her before I am finished."

The second week after the battle, a much smaller party of travelers set out on their homeward journey, leaving behind them dead friends and kinsmen.

Tajarez resumed his place at the front of the column as they rode over the sun-parched earth. He was mending well, but Mara knew he still suffered from his wound. Sometimes she would see the look of pain on his face, which he tried to hide, but he did not slow their pace. He seemed to be pushing the small group of weary travelers past all endurance. At night, they would fall wearily onto their robes to sleep the sleep of utter exhaustion. There was very little socializing or laughter. Everyone felt the loss of so many dead.

One day around noon Mara sighted a group of mountains in the distance. Palomas told her they would be in the mountains by the next day and would reach the hidden valley in a few days.

Mara found the news both welcome and frightening. That night they made camp in the foothills of the tall mountains, and it felt much cooler. They camped by a small river, and Mara and Sasha enjoyed bathing in the cool stream while Jeffery and Palomas stood with their backs to them, ever alert in case of danger.

Mara walked back to camp with Palomas, giving Sasha and Jeffery a chance to be together. She and Palomas had become co-conspirators, giving Jeffery and Sasha time to be alone. Mara had not spoken either to Jeffery or Sasha about their feelings for each other, but she knew she would have to in the not too distant future.

"Daydreaming, Mara?" Tajarez asked as he pulled up his mount beside her.

"No. Just enjoying being clean."

He noticed how her damp hair clung to her face, and resisted the urge to touch the curls that fell about her shoulders. "I wish to speak to you. There has not been much chance for us to talk lately; we have left much unsaid between us."

"I suppose so," she said wistfully. Tajarez dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to Palomas.

Mara looked at him. His handsome face was still unreadable. He seemed as arrogant and unbending as ever, but now she felt the gap that separated them like a pain in her heart.

He led her to a fallen tree trunk and sat her down. Then he sat down beside her. He picked up her hand and studied it for a moment. "It is hard to believe that such small hands could kill a man, Mara."

She shuddered, remembering what it had felt like driving the knife into the Kiowa chief. "I do not like to remember it. It was horrible."

"Do you know what my people are saying about you, Mara?"

"I suppose they blame me for so many dead."

He looked up at the tree branches over his head. "No, they do not blame you, rather they think you are more goddess than human. They say that you slew a great chief with your bare hands to save their prince."

"It was no great act of heroism. The man had his back to me."

"I am very proud of what you did, Mara, and I am grateful to you as well."

"Could we talk of something else?"

Tajarez folded his arms across his broad chest. "I owe you a debt, Mara."

"It is Palomas whom you should thank. You owe him your life."

Tajarez looked at her in exasperation. "I have already done so, and he accepted my thanks a lot more graciously than you do."

"Let us just say we are almost even, Tajarez, though not quite. You saved me three times, while I only helped you once."

He was quiet for a moment, staring at the distant mountains. "I want to tell you that I am leaving you tomorrow. I ride for home. I must ask my father to allow Jeffery to enter the hidden valley."

"You are going alone?"

"Yes. I can travel faster that way."

"You should take care not to ride too hard. You would not want to reopen your wound."

He pulled her to him. "Do you care so much?"

She pulled away from him. "Of course I care. You are my . . . you are ... I would care about anyone who had been through an ordeal such as you have."

"Ah, Mara, do you and I try to hide our feelings from one another? I wonder why this is?"

"When will I see you again, Tajarez?"

"Within a week. We have many things to put right between us, Mara, but it will have to wait until you reach the Seven Cities. There is no reason for you to fear anything now. The tribes in this area are friendly, and they would never attack a party of Lagonda warriors." He stood up and offered her his hand. "Will you miss me, Mara?" His hand closed over hers, and she felt the warm stirring of her blood.

She hated the thought of his going away. A week would seem endless to her. "I have not seen much of you lately. It will not be very different if you are gone."

Tajarez tilted her chin up. His eyes seemed to look into her very soul. "So you will not miss me? I shall miss you every moment. It will seem an eternity until I rest my eyes on your beautiful face once more." His voice came out a harsh whisper, sending tiny shivers down Mara's spine. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she knew that was impossible with the whole camp looking on. "Practice your language, so you can speak to my father when you arrive at the Seven Cities, Mara."

He touched her lips with his finger. "Good-bye for now, my brave one. I pray the days will pass quickly until I see you once more." He smiled and dropped his hand, then turned and walked away from her.

Mara wanted to run after him, to tell him that she would miss him, that she loved him. She hated this weakness within her body that seemed to cry out to him, even after all his hateful words, and after her finding him with Tanka. All it took for her to forget his past misdeeds was a touch of his hands and a few kind words. He had the power to turn her body into a trembling mass with just one look from his dark eyes.

She was glad he was leaving, she told herself, for while he was away, she could sort out her feelings and try to exorcise the hold Tajarez had over her. He had hurt her and humiliated her, and her pride would not accept that kind of treatment, even if it meant living without him for the rest of her life.

Mara had many chances to reflect on her future in the next few days. She made up her mind that she would ask Tajarez's father to allow her to return home to St. Louis.

The land they were traveling through was the most beautiful Mara had ever seen. It was green with huge pine forests so different from the woods that Mara had grown up in. And the mountains were magnificent. They rose into the sky as though reaching for a piece of heaven. There were rivers and valleys and wild flowers of so many different varieties and colors it was unbelievable. It seemed to Mara that it was only right that Tajarez had come from a land of such mystery and beauty.

They had made camp for the night and Mara was standing at the base of a mountain, letting the beauty of the land wash over her. A cool wind caressed her body, while the sound of the rushing water from the nearby river filled her senses. Before her were the tall, majestic mountains. At one point the peak was so high that the top of it was hidden among the fleecy clouds that seemed to be attached to it permanently. A full moon bathed the surrounding countryside in soft light.

She heard footsteps, and she smiled as Jeffery came up behind her and slipped his hand into hers.

"Palomas tells me if we could see the top of that mountain, there would be snow on it," Jeffery said. "It's hard to imagine snow in August, is it not?"

"It is so peaceful here, Jeffery, I have a feeling I have come home. It is as though I belong here."

"You are home, Mara. Remember when we were children how we dreamed of this? I do not believe even in our wildest imaginings we could have dreamed such beauty and contentment."

"Jeffery, what are your feelings for Sasha?"

He did not move, nor did he look at her, but fixed his eyes on the distant mountain. "I love her."

"I thought that was the case, Jeffery. And does she return your feelings?"

"Yes." He gripped Mara by the shoulders. "I want her for my wife. I want to be with her for the rest of my life."

"She could never survive in our world, Jeffery. The people you and I know would crucify her."

"I know that, and I would stay here with her if she were permitted to be my wife. I can imagine living here in peace and contentment for the rest of my life, and never returning to the world we came from, with its 'civilization,' greed, and power struggles."