Broken Promise

by Theresa Scott

  He shook his head to dispel the strange feelings that came over him whenever he looked at her.

  "Do not deny it," she said.

  "I will not deny it. Only I did not remember you as so, so ..." Compelling, he wanted to say. So beautiful. He saw that she was waiting for him to finish his words, and the tiny flames looked cold to him suddenly. He shook his head; he must not let her know how drawn he was to her. "What have you prepared for dinner?" he asked, hoping the mundane question would put a distance between them.

  "Berries," she answered shortly. He marveled that she seemed unaware of what he felt so strongly.

  When she held out a handful of tiny red and blue berries to him, he walked over and stared at her palm as if he had never seen a berry before.

  He struggled to focus on what he was seeing. "Is that all? Five berries?"

  She shrugged. "It is better than nothing." Then she withdrew her hand and popped all the fruit into her mouth.

  He watched her chew. He swallowed. "I want more than berries," he answered.

  She shrugged. "Claw did not see fit to provide me with any meat to cook."

  Falcon frowned and glanced over at the two other fires. At the closest one, the Badger brides were talking and murmuring among themselves. The smell of roasting venison permeated the air; they were cooking their evening meat. At the other fire lounged Claw, Lance, Red Hawk, and the other Jaguars. Lance straightened a sizzling meat stick that leaned over the fire.

  Falcon could hear the hot fat sputter as it dripped into the flames. "The others have meat."

  "Yes, they do. A hunter brought in a deer yesterday." He saw that her berry-stained lips were set in a stubborn line. She would tell him no more.

  He stalked over to Claw. "Where is the meat for my captive woman?"

  "She does not get any meat," answered Claw lazily. "She is troublesome. Troublesome women do not get fed. She must learn this."

  Falcon kept a tight snare on his rising anger. "Did you feed her last night?"

  "At first. I gave her some meat, but then when she started the fight between Lance and Red Hawk, I took the meat away. After that, she sat quietly. I think she was hungry." He smiled. "That

  will make her think carefully before rousing the anger of Jaguar men such as myself."

  Falcon leaned over and grabbed Claw by both arms and yanked him to his feet. "I told you to care for my captive," he gritted. "That includes feeding her!"

  Claw shrugged. "She is troublesome," he repeated. "I think she would be more manageable if she went hungry. That would make her more docile."

  Falcon dropped his hands from Claw's arms. Disgust coursed through him. His captive was staring at him. "Look at her," snarled Falcon. He pushed Claw's head in the general direction of the Badger captive. "Does she look docile to you?"

  "No," answered Claw. "She still looks fierce. You must starve her some more, I think. That would be my advice."

  "Your advice?" snapped Falcon. "I did not ask for your advice! I asked that you care for my captive."

  "I kept her alive, did I not?" argued Claw. "And she is still lively. Look how she glares at you, even as we speak."

  Both Jaguars stared at the captive. She curled her upper lip in a silent snarl.

  "She is not hungry enough, in my opinion." Claw sat back down beside the fire. "Join us for some venison," he offered.

  "No," answered Falcon, "I will not join you. But I will take some of your meat." He pulled up two of the meat sticks, ignoring Lance's cries of protest.

  Falcon sauntered back to the captive women's fire and handed Star a meat stick. She eyed him carefully before sinking her white teeth into the roasted flesh.

  Falcon stared at her as they ate in silence, wondering at the new feelings that rose in him because of her. He had felt nothing for so long that numbness and indifference had been his usual state.

  But because of this woman, numbness was being edged out. Taking its place were new feelings: protectiveness, anger, jealousy. He wanted to protect her from Claw's cruelty. He felt angry that she had gone hungry and angry at her for causing a fight between two men. He was jealous that Red Hawk and Lance both wanted her for a mate. Since meeting her, he had even helped two children, an action unlike him ever since his son had died and his wife had left him. What was wrong with him?

  Falcon decided he did not like these new feelings. Life was simpler when one's feelings were like the cold, black embers of a hearth long dead.

  Chapter Twelve

  Falcon watched the sway of Star's hips as she lagged behind the other Badger women. She was taller than the rest; her black hair was thick and long and her legs were slim. He smiled to himself, enjoying the sight of her.

  The Jaguar party wound their way single-file along a sagebrush-dotted gravel trail, past tall palisades of black rock. Claw stepped out of the lead and waited while his men walked by. After the Badger women had moved warily past him, he said to Falcon, "We will halt for the night at the Canyon of the Doves."

  Falcon shrugged. "The women could probably use a rest."

  "They are not very strong," observed Claw with a frown. "Jaguar women can walk faster."

  "They will soon be Jaguar women," Falcon pointed out.

  Claw cleared his throat. "I want the one with the dimples in her cheeks."

  "Your wife," answered Falcon, "will be most pleased."

  "Uh, yes, my wife. Well, that is, I, uh, IWell, my wife will understand!" He snapped his mouth shut.

  Betafor, Claw's wife, was a large, middle-aged woman with a slow, solid manner. Other Jaguar men shook their heads over how she ruled Claw and every person in his dwelling. Argumentative cries could be heard issuing from their elk-hide tent whenever she disagreed with him. Then Claw would come flying out of the tent and slink around the Jaguar camp until his wife let him back into their home. Even his grown sons and daughters always sided with Betafor, a source of great injury to the headman's pride. In fact, it was rumored in the Jaguar camp that any wisdom Claw showed actually came from Betafor.

  "What are you smiling at?" demanded Claw.

  "Just thinking how pleased Betafor will be with your new wife."

  Claw frowned and appeared to be pondering Falcon's words. As the last Badger captive disappeared around the rocky trail, he smiled unpleasantly. "Almost as pleased as Tula."

  At mention of his former wife, Falcon no longer felt like grinning. "I do not care what Tula has to say about my Badger captive."

  Claw chuckled. "Oh, she will have plenty to say. You can be sure of that. And so will her husband."

  "He will not get near my captive," vowed Falcon.

  "Think you not? I would watch Marmot closely, were I you. Unless, of course, you want to lose a second woman to him."

  Chuckling, Claw sauntered after the Badger women.

  Falcon clenched his fists. Claw's words tore into his gut like a spear. It was true that Tula had left him for Marmot. Everyone in the Jaguar camp knew it. Gritting his teeth, Falcon pushed away waves of anger. Many times he had successfully fought off all feelings where she was concerned until he was numb, a form of peace. He would do so again. What did it matter that Tula had betrayed him when he had needed her most? He had learned from that. Oh, had he learned. Never again would he need anyone, love anyone, rely on anyone. No oneman, woman, or childwould ever have a chance to hurt him again.

  Claw pushed past the women. Star stepped out of his way.

  Falcon shook his head. He certainly would never let a Badger woman, one with troublesome ways, ever mean anything to him!

  When once again he felt numb, felt his own familiar peace, he strode after the line of departing people.

  Several small hills of black rock screened the Canyon of the Doves. It was a favorite place for the Jaguars to camp. Water was plentiful from the small creek trickling along the canyon floor. The winds whistled outside the canyon, but inside, the air was still, the leaves of the trees undisturbed.

  There was a disadvantage to the canyo
n: there was only one entrance. There was no chance of retreat if an enemy entered.

  Searing memories washed over Falcon whenever he visited the Canyon of the Doves. This canyon was where his beloved father had once taken him as a youth. Together they had climbed the edge of the walls.

  When at last they reached the top of the towering precipice, Falcon had to gasp for breath. Standing in the wind, he thought he was ill because he had never had trouble catching his breath before. His father laughed and explained about the thin air.

  Then his father raised an arm and swung it in a gentle arc as the two surveyed the land. "It is yours, my son," said his father. "All that you can see is yours."

  Falcon shivered as he understood the power of the heritage his father was offering him. His father pointed to the west. "One day you will hunt fat elk in that river bottom."

  He pointed to the north. "You will climb that cold ice mountain in your search for long-haired bighorn sheep."

  He pointed to the east. "You will kill big deer in those hills."

  Lastly he pointed to the south. "You will ambush plump antelope on that grassy plain." Then he turned to Falcon, his kindly black eyes shining. "You are a fine hunter, my son, and all this land is yours to hunt in. I, and my father before me, and his father before him, stood on this exact spot. It is Jaguar land. It is good. And someday you will stand here with your son, a fine strong son, and look out over this land and it will be your turn to show the land to him."

  Wide-eyed, Falcon had surveyed the world of his father. And he had believed his father's words.

  Alas, he wished now his father was alive so he could tell him how wrong he had been. His life had not been full of the good his father had predicted. Not at all. And his son was dead.

  "Good spot to camp," Claw interrupted.

  "There is no way out if the entrance is blocked by enemies."

  Claw shrugged. "We are many. I am not afraid."

  Falcon's mouth tightened and his cheek ticked where Marmot's spear had scarred his face.

  "I stopped by to tell you that four of us are going hunting," said Claw.

  Falcon nodded, glad to be rid of the man for a while.

  "You are in charge if I am gone a long time."

  "Ask someone else. I am no longer headman."

  Claw glared at him. "Who else do I ask? You know this area better than any of us. You know the trail to take." He shook his head. "I do not understand you, Falcon."

  Falcon met Claw's black eyes, daring him to continue.

  Claw had never been known for his good judgment, and Betaforhis wisdomwas unfortunately back at the Jaguar camp. "It is time I spoke with you. You have been like this long enough. You are as prickly as a lodgepole pine; you let none of us, your friends, speak of anything important to you. Your heart is as hard and as cold as a stone. This cannot go on. Your people need you.''

  Evidently Claw did not see Falcon's ticking scar. "If," continued Claw relentlessly, "it had been my wife who had run away with another man, I would be happy she was gone. Who wants a woman who does not want to stay? You are well rid of Tula."

  Falcon froze.

  "And as for your son, well, I admit that was very sad."

  Falcon's grasp on his spear tightened but Claw ignored the danger sign.

  "But even you must admit he would never have grown up to be a strong warrior, or even a good hunter. I do not think he could ever have hunted."

  "Enough." Falcon's voice sliced through Claw's words like an obsidian blade through a hot deer liver. "It is no concern of yours what I do. I am a grown man. It is not your place to speak to me thus!" Indeed, Falcon could barely restrain himself.

  Claw glanced away, beginning to understand that he had goaded a wounded bear. "I go to hunt now," he mumbled. "We need fresh meat."

  Falcon watched him stumble away, and his hand grasping the spear shook with the force of his anger. He took several breaths, forcing the anger from him, unwilling to feel anything but the numbness he had lived with for so many seasons. When he calmed, he glanced over at his Badger captive. She was watching him.

  Walking over to her, he took several more breaths to calm himself so that when he reached her, his breathing was even and his cheek scar no longer pained him.

  She bent and placed a stick on the fire and he realized she did not want to talk to him. Well, he wanted otherwise. "There will be meat tonight for the evening meal," he said.

  She placed another stick on the fire.

  "Look at me."

  She raised her head and her dark brown eyes met his. As always, a thrill ran through him when he looked into her eyes. How could a mere woman, a captive at that, have such an effect on him? She regarded him steadily; he could read no fear on her face. "I know your name," he persisted.

  Her flinch told him he had caught her off guard.

  "Star."

  Her eyes narrowed and she started to turn back to the fire. Some part of him wanted to prevent that. He wanted her attention on him, not the fire.

  "I know your name is Star. I know you are a Badger woman. What else is there to know about you?"

  She shrugged and reached for a stick. "Nothing."

  Irritated, he asked, "Do you know my name?"

  Her sly glance made him think that she did indeed. Perhaps she had overheard one of the other men say his name. "No. And I do not care to know it."

  "My name is Falcon."

  She placed the end of the stick carefully into the flames and prodded the fire with it until it burst into flame. The orange light outlined her beauty and a swift longing lanced through him. He took a breath and let it out slowly, again striving for the numbness, the calm.

  "Say it."

  She turned away then, as if looking for more wood to feed the fire. He marched around the fire. He grasped her chin and lifted her face. "Say it."

  Her eyelashes were thick and a man could get lost in those eyes, he thought, feeling himself falling, falling... . No, he would not! "Say it," he said, and the hoarse, desperate note in his voice surprised him.

  "Falcon," she snapped. Then, "Falcons are smaller than eagles. And they cannot fly as high." Contempt was in her voice.

  He yanked his hand back and stared at her. "Falcons are more powerful than eagles for their size," he shot back. "They have greater courage, too."

  "Ha. The female falcon is bigger than the male. He is puny." She sneered.

  "Well, we are not falcons, are we? And I am bigger than you." He sneered back.

  "Eagles make big, safe nests for their young. A falcon's nest is a rocky ledge. The eggs roll off." She smirked.

  "To a falcon, a nest is not important."

  She looked taken aback and it was his turn to smirk.

  Silence stretched between them. He found himself liking her fiery answers. He asked, "Who are you? What manner of woman are you?"

  She tilted her head, watching him, and he collected himself. "A Badger woman, of course," he murmured, frowning. "No one but a Badger woman."

  She watched him, her dark eyes bright. "What did that man say to anger you so?"

  He wondered why she sought out his weaknesses. "He said things he knows not the power of."

  She was silent, regarding him.

  "And I am not angry!"

  She had the impertinence to raise an eyebrow at this. "You are." Then she reached for her digging stick. "I am going to dig roots for the evening meal."

  He could detect no censure in her voice. "Very well. I will accompany you."

  They set off for the creek.

  When they returned, he was carrying his spear and she was laden with dirt-covered wapatoo and bulrush roots.

  Claw and the other hunters had not yet returned, but two fires had been lit and several people sat around them.

  Falcon walked over to the men's fire. Red Hawk was polishing a spear tip, and Betafor's brother, Slinks Away, was resharpening an already sharp obsidian blade.

  Falcon could hear Star trailing along behind him.
>
  When Red Hawk spied Star, he frowned disapprovingly at her armload of leafy stalks and roots and said to Falcon, "You would eat what a Badger woman provides? Ho! Not I. I would fear choking on poison!" He looked around at his friends, waiting for their laughter at his wit. There were a few halfhearted chuckles.

  Falcon knew Red Hawk was still angry at losing Star, so he merely shrugged, having no interest in a fight. The walk by the creek with Star had soothed his anger and he felt the welcoming numbness that was so familiar to him.

  His captive woman was staring at Red Hawk as though she thought his suggestion a good one.

  "Cook the roots," Falcon told her. He did not want her starting a fight between him and Red Hawk. Falcon gave her a small obsidian knife with which to peel the outer skin off a bulrush root.

  "Be careful," Red Hawk warned Falcon. "A Badger with a knife ..."

  Falcon waited. "Yes?"

  " ... does not know what to do with it!" And Red Hawk erupted into hearty gales of laughter. After he wiped the tears of hilarity from his eyes, he said to Slinks Away, "You saw those Badger men. They thought to sneak up on us. Well, we tricked them. They are fools."

  Star's back was to the men, but Falcon could see her stiffen at what they were saying.

  "They should be sold to the Fish Eaters if they cannot fight any better than that," agreed Slinks Away.

  "They gave up easily," observed another.

  "I jumped out from behind a tree and grabbed one of them," boasted Red Hawk. "A skinny man with a big head of hair. He tried to run away. Would not fight!"

  Red Hawk jumped up from his place at the fire and began acting out the fight. "He got away from me and ran. I chased him and jumped on his back," he said. "Then we fell down and I rolled over on him." Now Red Hawk was rolling on the ground in imitation of the great fight. "Then he was on top of me, his knife out"

  The other men were on their feet now, acting out their parts in the fight.

  "And I grabbed one!" yelled a Jaguar.

  "Twisted his shirt right off his back!" yelled another.

  "Took his spear away from him. I still have it; it's mine now!" cried Slinks Away, shaking the weapon.