Savage Betrayal

by Scott, Theresa

  “That—and the dead bodies of his concubines,” Sarita muttered under her breath.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.” She smiled brilliantly at him, relief evident on her face. He gazed at her beauty, a warm feeling spreading through him.

  “Fighting Wolf, how long can we go on like this?” Sarita asked, serious once again.

  “Like what?”

  Her golden eyes bored into his. “I will be honest with you. I—I care about you, too.” She dropped her gaze, momentarily regretting telling him her feelings. Still, the way he was tonight, with the rapport between them, she felt she could do no less than speak truly. She raised her eyes. “How long could we be happy together? Chiefs and slaves have no future together.” There, she had said it. Their biggest problem: the status difference. She couldn’t take the words back. Let him deny it if he wanted to, but she—she had been honest.

  He took her hand, “We’ll be different. We can be more than just slave and master here, in the privacy of my house. I’m willing to let you be fee here under my roof. Not in the village, of course, but here in my house.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not as private as you think. There are many that live here.” She gestured around them. “Many that observe you and talk about you. You don’t give them a second thought. They’re only slaves,” she added, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  Fighting Wolf was silent, plans turning over in his mind. “That’s the best I can offer you,” he finally said.

  She was acutely disappointed. Her position was still the same. She sat silently, lost in thought. Beside her, Fighting Wolf waited quietly, his mind busy. At last Sarita roused her flagging spirits. He’d said he cared for her. That was an improvement, she thought ruefully.

  He yawned, effectively dismissing the topic. He climbed into bed and nudged her warm body. Soon they were in their own private world where they showed each other just how much they did, in fact, care.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Precious Copper squinted her eyes as she scanned the fog bank rolling in on the bay. Yes, the day should be clear and hot once the mist burned off. She called to an old slave woman. “Frog, go prepare a basket of food for three people. We’ll take it with us today. We’re going on a short canoe trip.” The woman nodded and bustled away to do her bidding.

  Precious Copper walked over to where several of Fighting Wolf’s canoes lay on the beach. She saw an older male slave crouched nearby, patching one of the canoes. He had served her family faithfully for years. “Slug, old friend,” she said, “it’s time for our yearly voyage to pick flowers. Do you know what I mean?”

  He nodded. “Yes, mistress. Every year we go and pick those little white flowers you like so much. Been expecting you.”

  She smiled at him. “Today we go to that beautiful little island to gather the flowers. Make sure no one knows where we’re going, won’t you?” She added conspiratorially, “I don’t want my secret to be known. For generations my family has been known for the lovely dye that only we can make. I don’t want anyone to know where we get the flowers that produce such a rare color.”

  She paused and thought for a moment. “There’ll only be three of us—you, old Frog, and me. She’ll help me pick the flowers. We’ll leave as soon as Frog comes back with the supplies.”

  “You want me to take a weapon with us, mistress? Might run into trouble. Never know,” he said.

  “No, we’ll be safe. We’ll only be there during the daylight hours. Cougars and bears will leave us alone, I’m sure.”

  “’Twasn’t the cougars and bears I was speaking of, mistress. Thinking more about the two-legged animals we might run into.”

  “Why, we’ve never had trouble before, Slug. Why are you worried now? Our people are stronger than ever.”

  “That may be, mistress, but I hear there’s been raiders in this area lately. Don’t want to cross them.”

  “Oh, surely they wouldn’t raid so close to our village,” she answered, trying to discourage his fears and hers. “We’ll take a bow with arrows then, if you’re concerned. I don’t think we’ll need them, though,” she said, trying to make her voice firm.

  He nodded, relieved at her decision, and headed over to another small canoe. “We can use this canoe, mistress,” he called to her. “I’m going to the longhouse to get my bow. Be right back.” He headed up the beach.

  Soon, the beautiful young woman and the two elderly slaves were paddling out into the bay. Already Precious Copper could see through the wisps of fog. “Let’s hope the blossoms are ready,” she told Frog.

  The old woman, scrunched up in the bow, was dipping her paddle carefully in the water on every second stroke of Precious Copper’s. “Yes, mistress,” she answered in her creaky voice. “I’m sure they are. You haven’t been wrong yet. They’ve always bloomed, just for you,” she cackled.

  Silence reigned once again as the trio paddled onward. After a long while, they reached the small island and pulled their canoe ashore.

  The day had indeed turned beautifully clear and warm. Precious Copper and Frog began picking the mature white blossoms on the low bushes. Precious Copper looked over to see Slug stagger up from where he’d been sitting on the beach.

  “I’ll help you too, mistress,” he called.

  “No, no, Slug. You rest. You did most of the paddling to get us here.” It was true that the old man should rest. It was not true he’d done most of the paddling.

  “I am a bit worn out,” admitted the old man, sinking gratefully to the gravel.

  “You can guard us,” suggested Precious Copper tactfully.

  He reached for his bow and took up his position, looking out over the small cove of the island. Precious Copper went back to picking blossoms. When next she glanced at Slug, he was sound asleep. She chuckled to herself. These slaves were getting too old for such expeditions.

  She looked at Frog. “Why don’t you take a rest, too,” she urged. The old woman eyed the snoring man doubtfully. “Go ahead,” coaxed Precious Copper. “I’ll wake you in a little while.” The old woman nodded and tottered over to where the old man sat slumped over his bow, his soft snoring borne away on the gentle wind. Soon the two of then snuffled in harmony.

  Precious Copper hummed to herself as she picked the blossoms. They really were lovely. Her timing was perfect—ideal for making the dye, the flowers were at the prime of their fullness. One day more and she would have been too late.

  Chapter Eighteen

  They swept down from the north—bearded, short, tough, dark men who threw terror into the hearts of the Nootka. The five brutal warriors were of the people known as the Kwakiutl.

  Kwakiutl warriors were trained from childhood to be efficient killing machines. Raised as soldiers, the boys were shown little affection by either mother or father. They slept outside at night without blankets or covering to warm them. Physical training was arduous and efficient: they were carefully trained in running, swimming, diving and weapons. Taught to be cruel and treacherous, warrior sons were encouraged by their fathers to beat up other boys, to seduce girls and leave them crying. A boy in training to be a warrior had no friends, except perhaps other warriors. Even then, it was a cautious kind of friendship.

  Kwakiutl warriors raided their Nootka and Salish neighbors for slaves to take back to their villages. They also raided to revenge the loss of relatives and chiefs in either war or accidental death. The Nootka were not always successful in avoiding these warlike neighbors and often fell victim. Even other Kwakiutl tribes were not safe from their brothers’ predations.

  The five men in the large war canoe skimmed quickly over the smooth surface of the ocean, heading for the small island they had sighted.

  Their mission of vengeance had already met with success. They’d found several wayfarers to murder. The dead would accompany the deceased Kwakiutl chief the warriors had sworn to avenge. No longer alone, he would have the company of the victims in his afterlife. He would
“pillow” his head on their bodies.

  Like sharks, the five warriors had been cruising the sea, searching for more unfortunates to satisfy their battle lust.

  “Now my uncle has a ‘pillow’ in death. He has the companionship of those three chiefs we killed,” stated the leader. Taller than his companions, his headband of grizzly bear claws bore mute testimony to his prowess against his enemies. A string of grizzly claws also draped his neck. The claws scratched his bare chest with each movement of paddling.

  The youngest warrior grunted assent. ”Yes, Grizzly Crusher, your old uncle should be happy now.” He spat over the side of the canoe. “He never was in life.” Seeing Grizzly Crusher frown, Devours Men added, “Let’s stay overnight on that island ahead. We can rest tomorrow, then head back home.” He kicked a bloody, pulpy mass of hair lying in the bottom of the canoe. “I want to show off these scalps.”

  “Going to add them to that fine cap you already wear?” joked Grizzly Crusher. Devours Men grinned and nodded as he fondly patted the cap of scalps adorning his own jet locks. The cap was his favorite possession. The men were in a good mood after their successful raid, and talked easily amongst themselves. Rather taciturn in public, they tended to be garrulous among their own kind.

  “We’ll rest on that island,” said Grizzly Crusher. “But I’m not ready to return home yet. We still have four days to find more companions for my uncle. Maybe we’ll find a slave or two to take back with us.”

  Devours Men shrugged. It was all the same to him.

  They neared the island. Trees covered most of it, right down to the waterline in some places. They steered towards a small pebbled beach. The island seemed a good choice for camping. It was large enough that they could hide in the woods should any larger force happen to pass by, and small enough that they knew it would be uninhabited.

  They pulled the canoe ashore and made camp near a small stream. Dusk was approaching, so they lit a small fire near the top of the beach. Here they would bed down for the night.

  Because they were on a war expedition, they could only eat four mouthfuls of food a day, and drink four swallows of water. These they would have in the morning.

  Devours Men staggered up from where he’d been resting. He strapped on his belt with the two vicious-looking daggers. “Anyone want to come?” he asked, taking a few steps along a narrow deer trail that led inland.

  Cannibal shook his head and the toenail necklace around his neck rattled. Made of the nails from his dead enemies’ big toes, the grisly ornament testified to the wearer’s ferocity. “Not me,” he answered. “I’m too tired from all the paddling and fighting. Better take someone else with you, though—you might get lost in the forest!”

  The others chuckled.

  Devours Men made an obscene gesture and walked into the woods. Grizzly Crusher got lazily to his feet and followed him. He was curious to see what the island had to offer.

  The two men followed the deer trail that appeared to lead across the island. They walked quickly and silently through the forest, glad of the chance to stretch their legs. The lapping of waves ahead caused them to quicken their pace. They had crossed the island. Silently approaching the beach, they stared in surprise at the scene before them.

  Around a small campfire sat three people. Two were obviously old, but the third, ahhh, the third was a beautiful young woman. The men looked at each other, their thoughts the same. They held a whispered conference. Crouching low, Devours Men melted into the bushes to the right, the hand holding his knife trembling with excitement. Grizzly Crusher took the path to the left. The encroaching darkness aided them in creeping closer to their unsuspecting victims.

  Precious Copper sat quietly looking into the fire. Old Frog asked anxiously, “Mistress, do you think they’ll miss us tonight? After all, we thought we’d be home before dark.”

  “I’m sure it’s all right,” answered the young noblewoman. “We really couldn’t help it. There were so many blossoms that I just kept picking. I lost track of the time!” Reassuringly, she added, “We’ll leave early in the morning and be back to the village before anyone has a chance to worry.”

  "Hmmph," was all Frog said.

  Slug sat slumped towards the fire, nodding quietly as he dozed. Soon the soft sounds of his snoring drifted across the two women. Precious Copper giggled. “We should stretch Slug out on a mat for the night.” She winked at Frog. “He’s already fallen asleep.”

  “Hmmph,” answered Frog, “he must be getting old.”

  Precious Copper giggled again. Together, the two women staggered with their burden to the mat and positioned him as comfortably as they could. His bow lay on the ground on the other side of the fire. Frog rested near the old man and watched as Precious Copper crossed over to pick up the bow.

  Suddenly a terrifying cry cut through the dusk and two shapes dashed out of the forest. It was over in seconds. Slug never woke up. His head was severed from his body in one brutal stroke of the knife. Holding up the old man’s head and waving it around in circles while blood poured from the neck, Devours Men crowed triumphantly in Kwakiutl, “One more enemy dies by my hand!”

  Frog gave a low gurgle as Grizzly Crusher’s dagger drove through her back and heart. Her body slumped to the ground, her old gray head bowed and still.

  It all happened so fast that Precious Copper stood as one paralyzed. Realizing she held the bow in one hand, she grabbed blindly for the arrows lying on the ground. If she could but reach one arrow--!

  Too late—she was shoved aside as Grizzly Crusher simultaneously pushed her and kicked the arrows out of her reach. Then he stood there, alert, legs apart, watching her, a menacing smile on his face.

  Precious Copper crouched low, holding the bow in front of her for meager protection. The two men were larger than she. Both wore beards and the one with the headband of grizzly bear claws had a hooked nose. The other was slightly leaner, looked younger and had a more aquiline nose. They were both grinning ferociously. She glanced quickly at Devours Men as he slowly approached. “Let’s have some sport, brother!” he said in the Kwakiutl language.

  Grizzly Crusher laughed, never once taking his eyes off the cornered woman. Seeing the two men between her and the trees, Precious Copper began to slowly back towards the water, where the canoe lay. She didn’t have much hope of escaping these Kwakiutl, but she determined she’d fight to the death. She glanced quickly at Devours Men again, and barely had time to slash the bow across Grizzly Crusher’s face as he lunged for her weapon. He yelped and jumped back.

  Devours Men laughed. “What’s the matter, great killer? One little woman too much for you?”

  Grizzly Crusher’s snarl was his only reply.

  While Devours Men was busy taunting his fellow warrior, Precious Copper bent to pick up a handful of pebbles. Now she was armed with rocks. She would do as much damage as possible before she went down, she vowed.

  The two men were circling her carefully. Grizzly Crusher feinted a lunge, she swung to face him and Devours Men grabbed her from behind, one arm around her waist, the other grasping her wrist. He shook it, trying to make her drop the bow. Struggling desperately, she brought one foot sharply down on his arch, then twisted as much as she could to face him.

  When she kneed him hard in the groin, Devours Men stopped grinning. Wincing, he grabbed his injured parts, all thought of holding her gone. Bent over in pain, Devours Men snarled with rage at Grizzly Crusher’s taunts. “One little woman has disarmed the great warrior! Now who’s having problems?”

  Furious, Devours Men could only gasp hoarsely, “See if you can hold the female bear. I’ve a score to settle with her.”

  Grizzly Crusher began circling his diminutive quarry carefully. Feet apart, Precious Copper watched for an opening. She hefted the rocks threateningly. Taking aim, she threw them hard at his face. Grizzly Crusher raised his arms to shield himself.

  Precious Copper ran for the canoe, never looking back. She managed to get the canoe into the water and
was just pushing it into the waves when strong arms plucked her off the canoe and threw her onto the beach. Landing on her back, she scrambled quickly to her feet, again grabbing handfuls of rocks as weapons.

  The two men were by now extremely wary of her. They held a hasty conference. “You take that side. I’ll take this one. When I give the signal, tackle her,” said Grizzly Crusher in his own language.

  Precious Copper smile grimly. Let the fools think she didn’t understand their language. How were they to know that her grandmother had been Kwakiutl? Precious Copper had heard Kwakiutl spoken since she was a child.

  Despite knowing they were going to rush her, when it happened she was caught off guard. All three of them went down in a heap onto the hard pebbled beach. Precious Copper clawed fiercely with her sharp nails at any arm or leg or torso she could find. She was rewarded by many yelps of pain and angry growls. Inevitably, however, she was subdued.

  Panting, Grizzly Crusher stared at her as Devours Men held her wrists behind her back with one hand. The other encircled her waist, effectively reducing her struggles.

  Chest heaving, eyes flashing, body taut, she continued to fight as best she could. Gradually, her frenzied efforts weakened and she ceased her struggling. Even then, she defiantly spat at Grizzly Crusher. He smiled cruelly at her and sauntered over to fondle her breasts. He pinched one and Precious Copper struggled frantically to get away from his reach.

  “She’s very pretty,” observed Grizzly Crusher. “She should fetch a great deal when we trade her—later. After we’ve had our fun.” He leered at her.

  Grizzly Crusher continued to play with her breasts. Precious Copper, seeing him relax, lunged for his bare arm and sank her teeth into it. She clamped her jaws shut until they ached. With a loud yell, Grizzly Crusher grabbed one of her braids and yanked viciously to make her let go. Fearing he’d rip her scalp off, Precious Copper released her grip on his arm. Furious, he raised his arm to slap her, but Devours Men swung her, still struggling, out of the way.