Falcon’s Captive

by Vonna Harper

  Unfortunately, struggling with him had aroused her in ways she prayed he didn’t know. Hopefully he’d only heard her angry words, noted nothing except her pathetic struggle to get free.

  Determined to keep her hands off herself, she stared at the tent top she couldn’t see and breathed when he did. She didn’t care if he had a nightmare. How could she have possibly believed it mattered to her? Let him thrash and scream, sweat and shake. He deserved to be haunted by—

  By what?

  Sighing, she admitted that his midnight fears had impacted her. She, who had covered Raci’s lifeless body with her wings, knew all too well what helplessness felt like. And rage. And grief. She didn’t want Nakos to have to weather the same emotions.

  Why?

  Close to sighing again, she swallowed the sound and hopefully with it the damnable insistent question. Tomorrow was for clear thinking and, once she’d broken free, flinging her body into the sky.

  Sleep nibbled at her edges, and she welcomed it in. She became selfish. Nakos’s attempt to rest was his concern. He’d put her through enough today, and she didn’t care.

  The sound again. A man’s harsh voice. Something between a cry and a shout. Limbs thrashing. A heel, maybe, striking her thigh.

  Hopefully scooting out of reach of his leg, Jola turned onto her side and propped an elbow under her. Even though she couldn’t separate his form from the unrelenting night, she had no trouble determining where he was. Unlike earlier, however, she wouldn’t try to save him from whatever had seized him. Instead, she’d let it play itself out while learning everything she could.

  “No! Run. Please, run. The smell, ah, the smell! Fight, don’t—no! Don’t ask that of—no! I can’t. By the spirits, I can’t!”

  His voice shrilled, then dropped to a whisper. An moment later, he made a sound that reminded her of a child crying. The harsh sob tore her apart. Not caring about the consequences, she stretched herself over his writhing form. Pressing her hands to the base of his throat, she spoke into his ear, or rather she crooned and hummed, even sang a little. Mostly she hoped he wouldn’t ask why she was trying to help.

  “Not again. No, not again!” His almost frenzied shaking frightened her.

  “Nakos, listen to me. Whatever it is, it isn’t happening. It’s behind you, part of the past. Nothing for you to worry about, nothing—”

  “Go away!”

  “I can’t!” she insisted, pushing down to keep him from thrashing. “You need me, Nakos.”

  Maybe her words reached him; maybe he’d simply exhausted himself. Whichever it was, he stopped struggling although he continued to shudder. Her first thought was to bring him fully awake; then she decided to let him leave his nightmare in his own way and at his own pace.

  Bit by bit, his body quieted, and his breathing settled down. She told herself that she didn’t understand why his relaxing meant so much to her. Mostly she remained stretched out on top of him with her breasts flattened against his chest while lightly stroking his side and arm.

  “That’s good,” she ventured. “Much better. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Afraid? She couldn’t imagine this man fearing anything and yet…“You’re safe. We both are.”

  “Both?”

  His unemotional tone caught her unaware, and she straightened, trying to look into his eyes. Would morning never arrive?

  “You heard me?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Never mind. We’ll talk about it later.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. “Nakos, you said something about a smell. What was it?”

  Jola’s voice came from a distance Nakos couldn’t measure. He was acutely aware of her body on top of his but couldn’t remember how or why or when that had happened. She was his captive, his prisoner, so why was she willingly lying on top of him?

  “Nakos?” she repeated. “What did you mean about a smell?”

  He could have refused to answer, but what defense could he throw up against that gentle, caring voice? Still, he ordered himself to wait until the familiar nightmare had lost its hold on him. When, finally, it did, he willed himself to relax. After pushing herself off him, she stretched out beside him. Before he could guess what she had in mind, she took his hand and rested it on her belly.

  “Does anyone know what’s behind your dreams?”

  “No.” His fingers twitched.

  “Why not? Maybe your shaman could help.”

  Tau hadn’t been the shaman back when the too-familiar nightmare had been reality. He couldn’t possibly understand. No one could.

  “Why don’t you trust him?” she asked.

  “I never said—”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  He’d never noticed how dark the tent was at night; at least, it hadn’t made such an impact before. He supposed he should be grateful for it because he didn’t have to look at her, but it wasn’t that simple.

  “You know nothing about us,” he countered after a moment. “The Ekewoko are strangers to your—what do you call yourselves?”

  “Falcons.”

  “What? Why?”

  A fine tremor ran through her. “Falcons—are skilled hunters. No bird is swifter. We, ah, admire them.”

  “So much so that you’ve named yourselves after them?”

  “The name came to be long before I was born. I never questioned the reason behind it.”

  Her voice had taken on a tone he hadn’t heard before, something between strain and reluctance. Given everything that had taken place between them, he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to say more about her background than absolutely necessary.

  “Will you answer me one thing,” she said, sounding more like herself. “What are you smelling when you’re having one of your dreams?”

  Her body was soft and warm and alive when he desperately needed those things. And with night close around them, he couldn’t think beyond that need. Granted, he’d already fucked her twice since capturing her, but his body had recharged itself. It would take almost nothing for him to spread her legs and house his cock in her heated walls.

  Maybe she knew what he was thinking because she tugged her arms free and closed her fingers around his wrist and guided his hand to that sweet place. Feeling as if he was coming home, he began stroking her nether lips. Her breathing, although ragged, stretched out.

  “The—smell. Nakos, please tell me about it.”

  “Smoke.”

  “What kind of a fire is it? What’s burning?”

  He wasn’t going to answer. Years of keeping everything locked away should have made holding onto his secrets simple. But his existence and hers had somehow intertwined. He couldn’t, wouldn’t tell her everything but maybe enough to satisfy her.

  And himself.

  “Years ago,” he told her with his fingers on her and the sound of her breathing filling his ears. “We—the Ekewoko—were attacked by a fierce and powerful tribe.”

  “You were a warrior?”

  “A child, a boy.” He turned his head in the direction her voice was coming from. “I was with relatives at a camp a short distance from where the attack took place.”

  “Some tents were set fire and you smelled—”

  “Not just any tents. My grandparents were living in one of them.”

  “Nakos, no.”

  Yes, he corrected her, yes, his father’s parents’ home had burned to the ground. His grandparents hadn’t had time to arm themselves before fleeing the flames.

  Even though he couldn’t strip emotion from his voice, he didn’t stop talking until he’d told her everything he was capable of. As he relayed it, he’d reached the smoldering tents while his uncle was still gathering other warriors around him in preparation for attack. His aunt had tried to hold him back, but he’d twisted out of her grasp.

  His grandparents had been everything to him, second parents and the source for everything he knew about the Ekewoko past. His grandfather had taught him how to hunt, and he’d
sat at his grandmother’s side while she cooked and sewed. His mother had died giving birth to him. His father had turned Nakos over to his grandparents to raise and lived another six years—until he’d been killed in a battle with the same savage tribe that later set the fire.

  “They were dead by the time I reached them,” he said in response to Jola’s quiet question. “Stabbed to death by the enemy when they tried to flee their burning home.”

  Silence surrounded his words. No matter how desperately he needed to get beyond them, he couldn’t think of anything to say, and Jola, too, remained silent. Although he was grateful because she kept her sex open to him, even guiding his hand over her core, he couldn’t take his mind beyond the too-simple sentence.

  The lie.

  Finally she shifted position a little. “You found them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Touched them? Knew they were beyond help?”

  “Yes.”

  “And your nightmare—you kept seeing that one thing in your mind.”

  He again told her yes. Then, determined to end the topic, he lied again, saying he seldom had that dream anymore and didn’t know why it had returned tonight. Whispering, she suggested that her presence might have played a role, and he agreed.

  Not long after, when she was on her back with her legs draped over his shoulders and he’d hidden his cock inside her, he told himself they’d never need to have this conversation again.

  Only he knew the truth, the horrible things he’d done.

  13

  Jola welcomed the morning. Not only wasn’t she still inside Nakos’s too-small tent, the air outside was fresher and the breeze sharp. Most important, her captor’s body heat no longer touched her.

  They’d had sex an unbelievable three times since he’d hauled her nearly lifeless body out of the great lake. She hadn’t tried to fight him off. In fact, each of those times she’d desperately needed his cock in the place only Raci should have known throughout all the days and nights of her life. Fucking had left her satisfied and satiated, for a while.

  Once they’d gone outside shortly after dawn, he’d given her a bowl of stew. There hadn’t been much flavor to or meat in the stew, but her stomach had welcomed it. She would have tried to identify the ingredients if she hadn’t been so aware of the interest directed her way. Nakos had left her in the care of one of his fellow warriors, a husky man he’d called Farajj after informing her that he had things to attend to which didn’t concern her. That might be true, but she couldn’t help wondering if he wanted distance between them as much as she did.

  At the moment, Farajj was sitting on the ground while smoothing the sides of a spear, but he kept stopping his task to study her. Finally he set down his weapon and faced her. “Nakos says you have a human’s mind. I say you’ve turned him around until he doesn’t know what to think or believe.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Ha! The question is, why wouldn’t you try? You don’t want to be here. You’ll do everything you can to get free, even pretend to be something you aren’t.”

  How little you know. “Perhaps.”

  Farajj’s expression became quizzical. “You don’t deny it, do you?”

  “Deny what?”

  “That my friend would be a fool to trust anything you say or do. Maybe—maybe you want to see him dead. And not just him but all of us.”

  “By myself?” Going by Farajj’s smooth features, she guessed he’d recently left childhood. In a few more years, he’d have gained the wisdom a man needs to survive and succeed, but right now he reminded her of boys who would rather play and wrestle than assume responsibility. In some ways she envied him. “How would I do that?”

  “Maybe because you’re more than human.”

  Even before she turned her head and looked up, she knew who was speaking. The shaman stood behind her, his lips thin and eyes narrowed.

  “Come with me,” Tau ordered, jerking his head at her.

  “Nakos ordered me to—” Farajj started.

  “Are you saying I have no right?” Tau interrupted.

  Farajj shook his head so violently that his long, fine hair flew about. Not waiting for the young man to speak, Tau grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. After letting her tend to her morning needs, Nakos had retied her arms in front in such a way that there was less pressure on her wrists than before. To her relief, he hadn’t placed anything around her throat. Judging by Tau’s take-charge attitude, the shaman would have relished treating her like an animal. Hoping Farajj would tell Nakos where she was, she didn’t resist as the shaman led her over to his tent. She reluctantly went inside.

  The smell was a mix of herbs and spices along with the shaman’s body odor. Unfortunately, the time she’d been forced to spend in his presence yesterday didn’t make weathering his stench now any easier. She wondered why he had no use for cleanliness, then guessed it must have something to do with protecting his shaman powers.

  “You and I, we need to have time alone,” he said sternly. Not giving her time to sit on her own, he jerked her down. She fell onto her side but quickly positioned herself on her knees. He wasn’t particularly large, yet he carried himself with a self-confidence that she had no doubt came from years of wielding power.

  Settling himself onto a stool made from leather and wood, he leaned forward with his hands gripping his knees. It took all her self-control not to shrink from his commanding and suspicious glare.

  “I know who you are,” he said. “And what exists between your people and the birds you call falcons.”

  No, you can’t! Please, you can’t. “What do you believe exists?”

  “I ask the questions, not you, understand!”

  Determined not to recoil, she nodded. Her every nerve was on alert.

  “I have visions,” he continued. “Visions sent to me by gods and spirits. Those forces gifted me. I have seen what falcons are capable of.”

  “Did you?” She hoped he wouldn’t notice that she’d asked a question.

  “You think I wouldn’t?” He filled his lungs and continued to stare down at her as if she was something lesser than him. “Foolish creature, why do you think I wanted you captured?”

  Last night’s conversation had been much like this except the shaman and she hadn’t been alone then. Sensing that Tau felt freer than he had when he’d had an audience, she forced herself to incline her head a bit. Hopefully, he’d believe she was cowed. She then prayed she wouldn’t give away anything she shouldn’t.

  “Ekew is a wondrous place. The gods gifted it to the Ekewoko when the earth was made, but over time our ancestors became lazy. They stopped thanking the gods for that great gift. The gods grew angry. They sent another tribe, a fierce one, to Ekew. Their warriors, whose weapons are greater than ours, forced us to leave Ekew.”

  “There was fighting?”

  “Of course! Do you think we are nothing but whipped animals who slink away with our tails between our legs?”

  Taking his outburst as a warning to watch everything she said, she shook her head.

  “Some Ekewoko died during those battles. For a long time everyone insisted we would stay and fight for what was ours, but there are so many Outsiders. We lack the warriors and weapons necessary to vanquish them.”

  “So the Ekewoko decided they had to leave if they were going to stay alive?”

  “Yes.” Tau whispered the word. “But no matter where we go, our hearts belong to Ekew. It’s our destiny to return.”

  “What is Ekew like?”

  “You think I would tell you? Ha, hardly. Someone like you would never appreciate its richness or see its beauty.”

  “Perhaps not.”

  “Look at this place,” he continued, sneering. “There is little dirt, mostly rocks incapable of sustaining growth. Winters are so cold that the earth remains frozen and in summer, heat bakes everything. When our scouts described this land, the decision was made to leave our women, children, and elderly near the sea where we’
d spent last winter and spring.”

  If he had such a low opinion of Falcon Land, or Screaming Wind as the Ekewoko called it, why had he ordered his warriors to come here?

  “It seldom rains and the wind never stops.”

  We’re used to it. We hear music in the wind.

  “No gods bless this place.”

  How wrong he was! About to tell him so, she clamped her teeth together because she guessed he was deliberately pushing her.

  “Evil spirits walk here, nothing else.”

  “Then why—”

  “Dark spirits with a single gift.”

  They were getting to the heart of why he’d wanted a captive. Her heartbeat kicking up, she studied him without moving.

  “Falcons.”

  Her heartbeat continuing to increase, she forced herself not to blink or speak.

  “Magical predators with the speed of the gods.”

  Fighting a sudden chill, she could only pray her expression wasn’t giving anything away.

  “You say nothing, slave. Is it because you can’t comprehend how much I know?”

  But he didn’t know everything, did he? “What do you want me to say?”

  “Nothing, yet. First you will hear me out. And then”—he smiled a smile that didn’t reach his eyes—“you will give me everything I demand.”

  Nakos couldn’t possibly suspect what was taking place, could he? He wouldn’t leave her to Tau’s mercies, would he?

  She was still searching for the answer when Tau began. As a favored son of the heavenly Ekewoko spirits, he’d been gifted with a series of dreams, each more revealing than the one before. At first he’d seen only a small bird with a slate-gray back and long, pointed wings. The underparts were white with thin, dark brown bands. The long, narrow tail was rounded at the end and mostly white except for a black tip and a white band at the end. The top of the head and along the cheeks were black, contrasting with the pale neck and throat. Most compelling were the powerful, yellow talons and piercing black eyes ringed in yellow. Black claws and beak completed the fierce image.