White Wind (19 page)

“Condition? What condition would you ask of me?” Golden Eagle’s brows furrowed as he anxiously waited.

Choosing her words carefully, Sarah spoke quietly. “If you must marry Wild-Flower, I ask that you respect my wishes and return me to my home.” Turning to see Golden Eagle frown in displeasure, Sarah confessed, “I can’t share you with another. It is not our way. It would cause me great pain to see you married to another. Do not ask that of me.”

Pulling her back into his arms, Golden Eagle sat for long moments in deep thought. “I will not allow you to return to your home unless it is safe for you to do so.” He held his hand high to forestall her protests. “In the meantime, I give you my tipi and all within, save my warrior’s belongings. Should Golden Eagle have no choice but to make Wild-Flower his wife, White Wind will have her freedom and her home.”

Golden Eagle sighed and wrapped his arms tightly around White Wind. “This warrior promises to find a safe place for you to go to if you must leave. With your own tipi, you would not be considered a slave.” He felt Sarah’s nod as she accepted his compromise, although he alone knew he would never let her go. Holding out his hand in front of her, he opened his palm. There sat the wooden eagle. “I wish to place this where it belongs.” He slipped it over her head, pleased with her gasp of pleasure.

Lightly he placed a forefinger under her chin and turned her to him. Looking deeply into her moist eyes, he saw love shining there. “Does White Wind have words to say to her golden warrior? Words that he longs to hear from her lips, not just see in her eyes?”

Grinning with mischief, Sarah turned in his arms, her fingers wrapped around the much-loved eagle, and placed a fingertip to his lips and traced the fullness. “Are not
actions better than words, my brave warrior?” The corners of his lips beneath her caressing fingers started to turn downward, and Sarah hastily added, “I only tease, my love. My golden warrior knows of my love for him.”

On her knees, straddling him, Sarah clasped his face between her hands and planted light kisses over his face as she declared, “I love you, Golden Eagle. With all that is me, I love you. Without you and your love, I would be as an empty shell. I wish to show my love to you.”

Trailing her lips down his warm body, she eagerly explored his firm flesh. Closing her hand around his swollen flesh, fingers stroking his velvety softness, Sarah lowered her head. Golden Eagle fell back on his elbows as his hoarse moans of pleasure echoed off the walls when she did indeed show her love.

Golden Eagle and Sarah remained in the secluded cave for two days, leaving only to take long walks, refill the water and food pouches and bathe. On their last morning they woke late and had a leisurely meal of nuts, fresh berries and pemmican, the shredded dried meat Sarah so enjoyed.

Golden Eagle loaded the horse and by early afternoon, they were set to return. Swinging onto the sturdy animal’s back, he pulled Sarah behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist. “Are you ready?”

Twisting around, Sarah nodded. “I wish we could stay longer. But yes, I suppose I am ready.”

“We will come here many times. There are many beautiful places Golden Eagle wishes to show you. We will explore them together.” And with a quick kiss for her, he nudged his horse forward, Sarah settling behind him as they wound their way downhill, the sun’s radiant rays following the progress of the couple.

They weren’t far from the cave when Golden Eagle unexpectedly drew to a halt. Without moving his head, be made a slight movement with his hand, warning Sarah to keep silent. He sniffed the air. He felt a prickling sense of unease run down his spine and knew the enemy was behind them.

Golden Eagle tugged Great Star around to face the way they’d just come. He slid one hand to the hilt of the knife strapped to his calf and slowly drew it from its sheath.

Sarah gasped as two figures stepped out from the trees, lances and shields held in their hands, eyes glinting with evil.

Golden Eagle took in their ragged clothing and dirty appearance, and knew these Arikara Indians were renegades on their own. He wondered briefly if there were more.

One of the warriors pointed his lance toward Sarah, clearly indicating what they wanted. Golden Eagle was using sign language to reject their offer to trade when he spotted a movement from the corner of his eye. “Hold tight, White Wind,” he yelled as a third warrior appeared behind them, attempting to snatch Sarah from behind. A sharp tug on the reins, accompanied by a terse command, and the stallion whirled about, rearing high on his hind legs, front hooves flailing the renegade warrior.

Golden Eagle watched his enemy fall beneath his horse to lay unmoving as the other two advanced. A bolt of fear struck him, fear not for himself, but for White Wind’s life. He knew he must get her away, keep her safe at all costs. If he attempted to bolt, Sarah stood a chance of having a thrown lance pierce her back. He came to a decision.

He turned, placed the reins in Sarah’s hands and commanded, “Go. Ride for our village. Do not stop or look back. Get to safety, White Wind.” Golden Eagle jumped down with a loud whoop and slapped the flanks of the horse, sending the stallion down the path toward safety.

Sarah made a grab at the horse’s long flowing mane to prevent being thrown as the animal lunged forward. She glanced back and saw the two warriors advance, circling Golden Eagle, knives drawn.

“No,” she cried, turning back to the stallion, trying to halt his headlong flight. She struggled with the reins until the horse reared in protest. Talking in a low, soothing voice, she finally calmed the animal, yanked him around and prayed it wasn’t too late to help Golden Eagle.

How could she go on if anything happened to her golden warrior? She suddenly realized that she would rather see Golden Eagle married to Wild-Flower than have him hurt or worse. She kept her eyes focused ahead, and saw the two warriors and Golden Eagle. The taste of fear flooded her mouth, and she nearly fainted when she saw the amount of blood streaming from gashes on Golden Eagle and one other warrior as knives were viciously slashed into flesh.

Sarah’s gaze locked on to Golden Eagle’s crouched form. He held his knife in front of him, oblivious to all but the two circling warriors in front of him. She clapped one hand over her mouth to keep from crying out when one warrior’s knife made contact with Golden Eagle’s arm.

With a cry of outrage, she steered Great Star into the group, scattering the warriors. Spinning around, she felt her blood turn to ice as one warrior ran toward her, his intentions clear, while his friend kept Golden Eagle occupied.

“Run, White Wind,” Golden Eagle ordered once again.

“No, I won’t leave you,” Sarah shouted, preparing to run Great Star at the enemy again. Digging her heels into the sides of the horse, she let out a strangled cry as the Indian feinted to one side and grabbed her leg as she charged by.

Sarah found herself on the ground, flat on her back, the wind knocked out of her. She stared into the grinning face of their enemy as she struggled to get her breath back. As the filthy renegade neared, hunkering down on his haunches, she turned on her side, drew her knees to her chest as she lifted herself on one elbow and allowed a look of helpless fear to overcome her.

The Indian tossed his knife to the side with a laugh that made her flesh crawl. His intense gaze burned into her as he leered. Sarah forced herself to remain still in her half-crouched position, keeping an eye on his every move, her heart pounding so loudly she couldn’t hear above it. When his hand came toward her, she noticed his thigh muscles beginning to bunch as he prepared to spring.

She sprung first, thankful for the fighting moves Golden Eagle had taught her. Her coiled feet kicked out, making contact with the warrior’s groin, as she leaped to her feet and assumed the same crouched position that Golden Eagle and the other warrior were using as they continued to circle and slash at one another.

One of Sarah’s hands remained at her side, lost in the folds of her skirt, palm slick with sweat as she concealed the small but sharp knife she used for her chores. She was now thankful she’d taken to wearing her knife strapped to her thigh as the other women did.

The warrior assumed the same crouch, his eyes furious slits, his breathing labored, indicating the pain he still felt. With a loud cry the warrior charged, hands outstretched.

Sarah held her breath, clenched the knife and waited until her enemy was nearly on her before ducking to the left. Her right hand shot out from her side to make contact with the warrior’s chest, using his forward momentum to her advantage as the hidden knife flashed briefly before embedding itself to the hilt in the chest of the attacker.

Breathing heavily, she watched the warrior fall and writhe in pain before gasping his last breath. She glanced over at Golden Eagle, and sucked in her breath in horror as Golden Eagle fell to his knees from a vicious kick to his middle. Each warrior sported several gashes on his arms and chest.

The other warrior laughed and brought his hand high, the sun glinting on his bloodied knife—Golden Eagle’s blood, Sarah realized with a sick feeling of dread. Without conscious thought, Sarah yelled and flew toward the gloating warrior, jumped on his back and used both hands to keep him from stabbing Golden Eagle.

Suddenly, the warrior jerked backward, knocking Sarah to the ground as his legs crumpled beneath him. Sarah screamed as the warrior fell on top of her, his blood soaking her, his weight pinning her to the ground, blocking out the sunlight.

Sarah gasped for breath, fought the darkness closing in on her and shoved, scooting out from under the now-dead Indian. She closed her eyes, shuddering against the grisly sight of the warrior, his innards spilling out from the long slash from chest to abdomen made by Golden Eagle, who still held his blood-dripping knife.

A wave of nausea assailed her and she turned away, retching as the events of the afternoon hit her. Strong arms held her shaking body, soft soothing words finally penetrating her numbed mind as the nausea passed. “White Wind, are you all right? Speak to me,” the voice insisted.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder, her eyes locking on to the most wonderful sight she could ever wish to behold. “Golden Eagle,” she sobbed, throwing herself into his outstretched arms.

As Golden Eagle held Sarah, he stared at the other two warriors, making sure they posed no further threat. The one his White Wind had taken care of lay dead, sightless eyes trained to the sky above, and the other lay trampled, a deep gash in his forehead from Great Star’s mighty hooves.

He continued to whisper his love and praise to Sarah, who had grown quiet—too quiet, he thought. “Look at me, White Wind,” he commanded, putting Sarah from him.

As Sarah continued to stare at the ground, shaking uncontrollably, he lifted her chin and stared into her empty gaze. Golden Eagle realized she was in shock. He knew she’d never killed another human before, nor witnessed such gruesome deaths. He drew himself unsteadily to his feet, forced the pain away and concentrated on White Wind.

“You disobeyed me, White Wind. Did I not tell you to go? Did I not command you to seek safety and not look back?” he lashed out, his voice furious. As her head turned to him in disbelief, he continued, “I am angry that you disregarded my orders. You are my woman, you will obey me.”

Sarah jumped to her feet, eyes now blazing with anger. “I saved your life, Golden Eagle. How can you speak to me like this? How could I have lived with myself if I had left and you never returned because of my cowardice?”

She turned away, not seeing Golden Eagle’s lips lift slightly at the corners. Golden Eagle watched, his eyes shining with pride, as Sarah spun around and came back at him. “You keep telling me we are soul mates. If you die, then I lose my soul mate. I may belong to you, Golden Eagle, but you also belong to me and I will protect what is mine. Do you hear me, Golden Eagle?”

Golden Eagle placed his hands on Sarah’s shoulders and drew her close, staring intently into her dark angry eyes. “Golden Eagle hears you, White Wind. White Wind is a true warrior’s mate. This warrior is proud of your actions this day. I should punish you for disobeying me, for putting yourself in danger, but I am glad you returned. You saved my life this day.”

Sarah threw her arms around Golden Eagle’s neck and whispered, “We are even now, my golden warrior.” She drew back as he moaned in pain. “You’re hurt, Golden Eagle,” she exclaimed. “Why did you not say anything?” she demanded, her eyes taking in the many cuts and slashes, two of them bleeding profusely.

Golden Eagle waved aside her concern. “We must leave and return to the safety of our village.”

Sarah stepped back and whistled for his horse. Golden Eagle’s brows rose at her perfect imitation of his call. Sarah shrugged. “I’ve been practicing. Black Lady comes when I whistle to her too,” she added.

Golden Eagle found himself seated while Sarah checked his wounds, bathing the cuts from the water left in their water skin. Using his retrieved knife to cut long strips off her skirt, she bound the two deep gashes, one on his forearm and the other in his side.

“There, now we can start back. I will finish tending to your injuries when we return,” Sarah said, her tone leaving him in no doubt of her seriousness. He knew from his mother that with the knowledge she’d brought with her and what his people had taught her, Sarah’s skills at healing had become highly respected. Many of his people now sought her advice.

Golden Eagle stood, grimacing as stiffness and pain set in. He glanced once more around him before he made the attempt to mount, and noticed the warrior Sarah had killed still had her knife protruding from his chest. He halted Sarah with a gentle pull on the arm. “You cannot leave your knife behind, White Wind. If there are others around, they will know it was our tribe who killed their warriors. You must remove it.”

Golden Eagle watched the color drain from her face, and was prepared to go fetch it for her, but Sarah drew herself up and strode over to the dead Indian to do what she had to do.

He watched Sarah pull the knife free and wipe it on the leaves, shuddering as she did so. She then turned, faced him with head held high before replacing the blade in the sheath strapped to her thigh. Returning to stand before him, she indicated that she was now ready to return.