Wild Splendor

by Cassie Edwards

  As she was carried hurriedly into the shadows of the hogans, she peered anxiously toward Pure Blossom’s hogan, knowing that Sage must still be there. Tears of frustration stung her eyes as she was then carried on away from the village. Soon she saw the outlines of horses and other warriors just ahead of her.

  Then spirals of despair swam through her when beneath the light of the moon she could see more than one Navaho sentry lying dead, arrows piercing their backs. Now she understood how the Kiowa could have gotten away with the abduction. They had killed everyone who had gotten in the way.

  As she was laid over the back of a horse and secured there with a rope, Leonida realized that Chief Four Fingers did not want an alliance with Sage and his people any longer, or he would not risk losing it over the abduction of a woman.

  Now tied onto the horse, hanging over its back, Leonida found her head spinning, the blood flowing quickly to it. When the horse began traveling down the steep incline, a keen dizziness overcame Leonida.

  She soon drifted off into a black void of nothingness.

  * * *

  Sage felt hopeful for his sister again when her breathing became easier and more even. Finally she lay on her platform, sleeping soundly. He stayed on his knees a moment longer and watched Pure Blossom sleeping, remembering her when she was a small child, even then battling all sorts of ailments. His mother had told him that it did not appear that Pure Blossom’s health would ever be strong and had warned him even then that she might not live past three years.

  “My sweet sister, you fooled them all,” he whispered, stroking her cool brow with his fingers. “Even now you tease death and are victorious. Perhaps you will live to see my children? Little one, that would make your brother happy.”

  When she emitted a shaky sigh and turned to lie on her side in a fetal position, Sage made sure the blankets were still fully covering her, drawing them up over her, smoothing them out just beneath her chin.

  “I think I can leave you now,” he whispered as he rose to his full height next to the sleeping platform. “My wife has been without her husband long enough. When the sun replaces the moon in the sky I shall return and check on you again.”

  Anxious to be with Leonida, always desiring her as though it were their first moments together, Sage left Pure Blossom’s hogan and hastened his steps until he entered his own dwelling. A soft fire was burning in the fire pit as he walked past it. He stopped and looked into Runner’s room, smiling when he found that the child was fast asleep.

  Stopping just outside his bedroom door, he stepped out of his breechclout and moccasins. He smiled down at himself, seeing how aroused he had become at only thinking of her. Perhaps he would awaken her and let her see how he hungered for her even at this midnight hour. Surely she would want him as much.

  His loins on fire with desire, Sage walked on into his bedroom, having decided that he must awaken her. He could not wait until morning to quench his passions.

  When Sage looked over at the empty sleeping platform, he stopped short. Where was she?

  Not believing she could be gone, Sage rushed to the sleeping platform and gazed down at it with wide, worried eyes. Then he spun around and raced back to the outer room, looking frantically around him.

  He slopped when he discovered the squash blossom necklace on the mats beside the fire. His pulse racing, he swept the necklace up from the floor and spread it out between his fingers, inspecting it. His eyes locked on the break, and he realized that only a struggle would have caused such a break. Leonida had not just wandered away from the hogan.

  She had been abducted!

  He dropped the necklace to the floor and began pacing in agitation. “Who would do this?” he growled, his fists tight at his sides.

  He recalled the time when Harold had grabbed the necklace from Leonida and had forbidden her to wear it. Seeing the broken necklace reminded him that the white man just might do anything to get Leonida back, perhaps even risk entering the village alone to achieve his foolish goal.

  “But he knows not where the village is,” he said, kneading his brow feverishly.

  He stopped and his jaw tightened. “Chief Four Fingers,” he said, his teeth clenched. “He desired her. Has he risked everything to have her?”

  A rush of feet in the hogan made Sage spin around to see who had entered, hoping it was Leonida. Instead he saw two breathless Navaho warriors standing there, their eyes filled with anguish.

  “What brings you to my hogan this late?” Sage asked, fearing the answer.

  “All of our sentries have been slain,” Spotted Feather said in a rush of words. “It was time for change in sentries. All those who went to relieve the others found death on the mountain. They are all dead, Sage. All of them had Kiowa arrows in their backs.”

  Sage was taken aback by this news. Despair and anger fused within him. He shook his head back and forth, not wanting to envision his friends all dead, or wanting to think that his beloved was now in the hands of those who betrayed him.

  “My wife has been abducted,” he said, turning to grab his clothes. He hurried into his breechclout and moccasins, then yanked his rifle from where he had leaned it against the wall. “Gather together many warriors. We must go after Four Fingers. He is responsible for this.”

  “It is such an unwise thing to do,” Black Thunder said, walking from the hogan with Sage and Spotted Feather. “And all for a woman? I see her as special also, Sage, but to destroy peace over her? It is not something I will ever understand.”

  Sage turned to his warriors. He clasped his hands on Black Thunder’s shoulders. “It is not hard to see why he chanced all for my woman,” he said, his voice drawn. “First, I denied her to him. Second, he realizes that Kit Carson and the white pony soldiers are near, and perhaps he thinks our time of camaraderie has been outlived. He has taken my woman and will ride even farther than the mountains. He is fleeing life as he has always known it, believing it is gone anyhow. He no longer sees a need for an alliance with the Navaho. Taking my woman was a way to throw sand in my face to say that he is no longer my friend and ally, but as before, my archenemy.”

  “He is foolish,” Spotted Feather mumbled, and Black Thunder nodded in agreement. “Never can he outrun the Navaho.”

  “Yes, that is so,” Sage said. “We will overcome them soon. But we must be cautious in how we approach them. Getting my wife back is more important than how many Kiowa we kill.”

  Sage’s thoughts went to those warriors who had been killed. He ordered Spotted Feather to take others with him to return the dead to the stronghold.

  Black Thunder rushed away to awaken many other warriors.

  Once he saw that his orders were being carried out, Sage stamped away toward the corral. It was hard to control the rage that was searing his insides, yet for his woman he had to keep a level head.

  Her survival depended on him.

  And he would not allow himself to think that the Kiowa chief would take the time to stop to ravage his woman. He would keep thinking that her body would be left pure, to be touched only by her husband.

  Chapter 19

  Singing and loving—all come back together.

  —COLERIDGE

  With his bow slung over his left shoulder, his wildcat quiver of arrows poisoned with rattlesnake blood secured at his right, and his rifle sheathed at the side of his horse, Sage was ready to travel. He was not taking the time to share war songs with his warriors, or even to dress in his thick buckskin war shirt. He had stopped only to eat dried yucca for energy. Haste was of the essence, for the longer he tarried, the farther his wife was being carried away from him.

  He was already riding through his village when a thought struck him. He brought his horse to a stop, his warriors following his lead, when he remembered Runner all alone in his hogan. If he awakened and found no one there, he would become alarmed and feel as though he were orphaned all over again.

  Sage quickly explained to his warriors, then urged his horse into a hard ga
llop until he reached his hogan. Dismounting in a bound, he gazed over at Pure Blossom’s dwelling. Most people of the village had been awakened by the noise of the departing warriors. All but Pure Blossom. He looked at her hogan but still saw no signs of her at the door, and he did not think it wise to awaken her. She needed the rest. And she was not well enough now to look after a young boy full of spirit and spunk.

  “Then who?” Sage mumbled to himself, staring at the door of his hogan.

  “You’ve returned because you are worried about Trevor?”

  The gentle, friendly voice behind Sage made him turn around with a start. He was stunned when he found who it was. His jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. Because of prejudice, this woman had turned her back a second time to his wife. She had also refused Runner a friendship with Adam—Runner, who was innocent in every way.

  And now she was showing concern? Somehow he did not trust her.

  “Yes, I have returned because of my son, and I do not have time to talk with you,” Sage grumbled.

  Sally lowered her eyes, then lifted them stubbornly up again. “I know you have no time to waste,” she said hurriedly. “That’s why I came to you. I am offering to watch Trevor for you while you go and search for Leonida.” She swallowed hard. “I feel terrible about what has happened. Terrible.”

  “And so you should,” Sage scolded. He looked past her at his waiting warriors, then put a hand to her shoulder. “I accept your offer. Watch over this boy I now call my son.” He lowered his hand from her shoulder and leaned down into Sally’s face. “But never call him Trevor again. He carries with him a Navaho name because he is the son of a Navaho.”

  He straightened his back slowly, his eyes watching her expression for signs that meant that he still could not trust her.

  But she showed no visible signs of resistance. She seemed accepting now of Runner’s new lot in life, and perhaps even of this man who now called himself the boy’s father.

  “Please go on,” Sally said, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress. “I promise to look closely after Runner and call him by the name you’ve chosen for him.”

  Sage nodded, placed a hand of friendship on her shoulder again, then left in a run toward his stallion. He mounted his horse in one leap and rode away, his men soon following after him.

  When they reached narrow mountain passages, Sage risked everything by not stopping to walk the horse to safer footings. His stallion knew the way. His steed’s hooves stayed firm on the narrow, slippery path until once again they reached a stretch of stone that was wider and safer.

  Determined to catch up with Four Fingers, Sage gave his horse no rest. He pushed him farther and farther, and his stallion seemed to understand the desperation of its master in the way it galloped steadfastly onward, snorting white clouds of air from its flaring nostrils.

  Crouching low on his horse, Sage raced through the twilight of morning as it became evident in the lightening skies overhead. He knew that they should be reaching the base of the mountain now, and he feared finding Kit Carson somewhere close by.

  Yet Sage could not let this worry stop him. The life of his woman was at stake. If he allowed anything to happen to her, his future would be gray and lifeless. So would it be the same for his people. Without his woman at his side, he would no longer be the leader they needed to keep their lives meaningful.

  When flat land stretched out before him, shadowed by the hazy morning light, Sage rode onward. He knew of a place where Chief Four Fingers might have stopped to rest and eat, a place that Sage had so often used himself before tackling the steep sides of the mountain to get to his stronghold. It was another canyon, only a short ride away, where a waterfall splashed and fish were in abundance in a mountain stream. If Four Fingers had been at all careless or had misjudged the amount of time it would take Sage and his warriors to follow, then Sage was in luck.

  His pulse raced, hoping that Four Fingers had not yet had the chance to touch Leonida.

  If so, Sage would make Four Fingers’ death agonizingly slow.

  Four Fingers would beg for the poison arrow to be shot into his heart.

  * * *

  Leonida was only slightly aware that her horse stopped. She was still drifting in and out of consciousness, her head pounding from having been forced to hang low for so many hours. She looked dazedly over at a Kiowa warrior as he came and untied the ropes that held her on the horse’s back. She sighed with relief when he laid her on the ground, even though she was fearful of what might happen to her next.

  She was fully awake now.

  She glared up at Four Fingers as he came and stood over her, his legs outstretched, his fists on his hips. The gag was removed from her lips, and another warrior untied the rope that held the hot, clinging rabbit fur against her body. When that also fell away from her, and her pores were allowed to breathe again, and she had inhaled enough breath to give a reprieve to her throat, Leonida tried to scamper to her feet, then fell clumsily back to the ground, weak from having been tied so awkwardly on the horse for so long.

  “Your legs will become strong again,” Chief Four Fingers said, sinking to his haunches before Leonida. He reached a hand toward her, chuckling when she raised a hand and knocked his away. “The white woman is not only beautiful, but she also has spirit. This is perhaps why Sage chose you over women of his own coloring to be his wife? Does your spirit exceed that of women of Sage’s village? Has it been put to a true test?”

  “I will tell you nothing,” Leonida said, her throat parched from the need of water.

  “That matters not to me,” Four Fingers said, shrugging. “Words from a white woman are foolish and unimportant. And as for testing, once you are among the Kiowa women, they will test you plenty.”

  He grabbed her wrists and held them immobile as he lowered his lips toward hers. “Now? Let Chief Four Fingers test your ability to kiss,” he said huskily. “After your strength has returned, your skills at lovemaking will be thoroughly tested by Four Fingers, and then by those of my warriors who desire to see how a white woman might compare with a Kiowa squaw, in all ways sexual.”

  His threats made Leonida shiver. She was going to be used by many men? If Sage ever found her, she would not be fit ever again to be his wife. She would be too defiled, perhaps even ripped apart.

  As Four Fingers’ lips covered hers, she struggled to get free but found him too strong. She could not budge him.

  As his kiss deepened, she tried to blank out the moment, pretending it was not happening. Tears streamed from her eyes as he lowered her to the ground. One of his hands now held her wrists together over her head, and his other hand moved up her velveteen skirt. When his hand covered her womanhood and pressed down against it, his middle finger seeking entrance inside her, she wanted to die. She tried to kick her feet but realized now that they were being held down by warriors on each side of her. They were forcing her legs farther apart, making her more accessible to Four Fingers’ probings.

  When two other warriors came to kneel on the ground on each side of her head, each one taking one of her hands and holding it on the ground, she stiffened and readied herself for the assault that was near. She wrenched her lips from Four Fingers’ mouth and turned away, trembling with fear when his free hand swept up her blouse and cupped one of her breasts, his thumb circling the nipple.

  After this was all finished, she vowed, she would find a way to steal a knife.

  She would kill Four Fingers first, and then herself.

  For now she would concentrate on the peaceful sound of the water splashing down from the waterfall.

  She would concentrate on the smell of the wildflowers that dotted the banks of the stream.

  She would imagine herself somewhere else, floating, free and pure again, and held in the protective embrace of Sage’s powerful arms.

  Suddenly her eyes opened wide. Four Fingers jumped away from her. The warriors who had been holding her immobile were all running toward their horses, left watering at the
stream.

  “Sage!” the sentries shouted as they came running into the camp. “Sage has been spotted. He brings more warriors than we have to fight him off! We must flee! Now!”

  Hope filled Leonida in warm splashes, and tears streamed from her eyes.

  Sage.

  Wonderful Sage.

  He was going to rescue her.

  But she had to help him. She had to get away from the Kiowa before they had a chance to grab her and put her on one of their horses.

  No matter how hard she tried to get up, though, her knees buckled from weakness and she fell back to the ground, breathless. Desperate to get away from the Kiowa, she began crawling toward a nearby boulder.

  As she did, she kept looking guardedly behind her, waiting to be discovered. But the Kiowa seemed to have forgotten her. They hurriedly mounted their horses and rode away.

  As Sage came into the camp, he got a last glimpse of the fleeing Kiowa. Anger grabbing at his pounding heart, he urged his horse into a faster gallop.

  His hands strung his bow without conscious willing. The arrow leaped to the string almost by itself. His hands and arms worked methodically together.

  He drew the arrow to the head and released. The twang of the bow echoed and the arrow soared through the air. Pride seized Sage when he saw the arrow pierce the back of a Kiowa warrior, and he strung his bow again as he raced onward, another Kiowa warrior in sight.

  Leonida pulled herself up against the rock, steadying her back against it, panic racing through her as she saw Sage and his warriors rush on past her without having seen her.

  “Sage!” she screamed, stumbling after the rush of the mounted warriors.

  To her, the world seemed a roar of hooves, the Navaho leaning forward over their horse’s necks, their mouths wide, shouting. “E-e-e-e.”

  Again Leonida screamed Sage’s name, her arms outstretched before her. “Please, Sage,” she cried. “Oh, darling, it is I, Leonida. Please hear me.”