The warrior yawned sleepily. “Do you need us?”
Johnny shook his head and stood up. “See you in camp.”
In moments, he saddled Katis, and headed back at a gallop.
It was the middle of the night when he made it back to the village. He rode to the lodge where Luci had been imprisoned and ran inside. Empty.
His heart skipped a beat as he went to Deer’s lodge.
She and her father sat up suddenly as Johnny ran in. The old man looked bewildered. “What are your doing back?”
Johnny ignored him, grabbed Deer by the shoulders, and hauled her to her feet. “All right. Where is she?”
“I–we let her go early,” Deer stammered, but she didn’t look at him.
“That’s right,” Crow said, and yawned. “Deer persuaded me to let the Cheyenne girl leave. Charish escorted her part of the way back to the fort–”
“Is he back yet?” Johnny demanded.
The guilt was evident on Deer’s face. “Well, I don’t know. He said something about going hunting after he saw her off. But we did release her–”
“I warn you, if anything’s happened to her, if you broke your word, Deer, consider our deal off!”
Crow Feather blinked. “What goes on here?”
“Ask your daughter.” Johnny strode from the lodge. The guilt on the girl’s face was evidence enough that something was not as it was supposed to be. Johnny had decided to give Luci safe escort back to the fort himself. It didn’t make any sense for Deer to be so concerned about the girl that she would give her an escort. And Charish?
He mounted and took off at a gallop through the moonlight. On the edge of the camp, he picked up the fresh trail of two horses. He followed it. A couple of miles out, they headed east.
That wasn’t the direction of the fort. Now why would Charish take Luci east? There was nothing in that direction except his father’s old Skidi village. Johnny had not been in that village since he was a small boy. There were too many memories attached to that place–unhappy memories. His father had been cruel, even to his own sons. They had all scattered like windblown leaves as soon as they were old enough to fend for themselves-except for Johnny, who was too young and was placed unwillingly in the white man’s boarding school.
Was that where Charish and Luci were heading, and if so, why? Johnny nudged Katis into a gallop. Even riding fast, it would be dawn before he arrived.
The old woman awakened Luci less than an hour before dawn. The drums still echoed outside and Luci heard rhythmic chanting. Obviously some kind of ceremony had been going on most of the night.
Luci looked at her. “What is it you want?” she asked in English.
The withered hag struggled for words. “Ceremony,” she said finally. “You must get ready.”
Luci tried to ask her more about the ritual but gave up with a shrug when the old woman could not understand. She knew nothing about Pawnee custom–except that they revered the Morning Star that showed on the eastern horizon just before the sun rose.
Luci started to refuse then reconsidered. Deer had said she was going to free Luci. And she had given her word. If Luci took part in this ritual, whatever it was, then they would set her free. She was too afraid to think of any other possibilities.
The old crone brought in ceremonial paints and indicated she would paint Luci.
Mercy! What was this about? Not that she had any choice. If she refused, no doubt the old lady would bring in someone to help her tie Luci up and paint her anyway. Luci didn’t seem to have much choice. With growing doubt and more than a little fear, Luci submitted to having her naked body smeared with red and black paint. Outside, the chanting and drums seemed to be growing in intensity as dawn neared.
Now the old woman threw her a buffalo robe to wrap herself in, and indicated they were to go outside. Without any clothes? She tried to argue, but the old crone ignored her. What else could she do but go with her? Maybe once outside, she could break and run for a horse, then escape. But she wasn’t even wearing moccasins. The ground felt damp and cool beneath her bare feet as she followed the old woman out into the darkness.
Any thoughts she had for escape were lost when she found herself suddenly surrounded by some kind of honor guard, which escorted her across the village toward a giant fire burning in the center of the camp circle. Now what?
The people pressed forward around the big fire, chanting and dancing. As Luci and her escort neared, they fell back and made room for them to pass. The drums beat so loudly that they sounded like thunder in Luci’s ears . . . or was that the beating of her own frightened heart?
What to do? She walked toward the blazing fire, holding the robe close about her naked, painted body. She was all alone with no one to help her in this enemy camp.
Johnny. Johnny Ace, where are you? And then she chided herself. He was an enemy, too, about to marry that Pawnee girl. He wouldn’t help her; why had she grown to think of him as a refuge in time of trouble?
All the men seemed to be armed with bows. She wondered if there was to be a hunt this morning.
It wasn’t long until dawn, Luci noted, glancing toward the eastern sky. Already the Morning Star hung over the far horizon with the first gray light breaking behind it.
She recognized Charish standing near the bonfire as she approached. He smiled at her. She looked back at him suspiciously, pulling the robe tighter around her small, naked frame.
She spoke English to him, “What is this? Why are these people gathered?”
He smiled disarmingly. “It is nothing. The people are gathered to see you off.”
“Such a ceremony for a mere captive?” She blinked in surprise, knowing there was something terribly wrong here. Now she saw that there was a stairway with a platform next to the fire and at the top of the platform were several old, important-looking, Pawnee priests, all garbed in ceremonial dress. They stood staring down at her as the drums beats louder and the people broke into frenzied chanting and swaying.
Charish spoke loudly. “It is a good omen if you take part in our ceremony; if you walk to the top of the platform unassisted and greet the priests.”
She swallowed hard, looking around for an escape through the hundreds of people. The crackle and heat of the giant fire were warm on her face. “Suppose I refuse?”
Charish grinned and shrugged. “Then you will anger the people. Perhaps they won’t release you.”
She wanted to ask a million questions, but all she thought of was that the sour man was right-she could easily be dragged up the platform if she wouldn’t walk. If she angered them, maybe the Pawnee wouldn’t set her free. For whatever reason, she would humor them and take part in their curious ceremony.
All eyes seemed to be upon her. Luci took a deep breath for bravery, squared her small shoulders, and walked to the foot of the steps. The people set up a roar of approval, nodding and chanting. The priests at the top of the platform smiled encouragingly at her. She put one small, bare foot on the first step and the Pawnee shouted again.
Of course it was the right thing to do-not that she had any choice in the matter. She must not make them angry. What kind of a ceremony was this anyway? She took another step upward and the people chanted louder. Her knees shook so, she was having a hard time climbing the steps up to the platform next to the fire, but she went halfway up. For the first time now, she noted a wooden beam out over the fire. Curious. What was that for?
She paused uncertainly and looked behind her, back at Charish standing at the foot of the platform. He smiled encouragingly at her, then followed her up, taking her arm.
“Do you need help?” he asked in English and then half led, half carried her up the rest of the steps to the top of the platform.
From the top, Luci stared out at the sea of dark faces looking up at her expectantly. What was it they wanted? What was it they had come to see? She half turned as if to run back down the steps, but Charish held her arm.
He said to her, “It is a good omen for our
people that you walk to the top willingly and bravely.”
The old priests were obviously happy about it, too, smiling and nodding to her. Her heart pounded so hard, it threatened to burst through her chest. She didn’t like the way the people were pressing in closer to the fire, looking up at her, the way their eyes gleamed in the firelight.
She took a deep breath and smelled the smoke of the big fire, felt the heat of it as the flames crackled in the pit below the platform.
The chanting and singing began all over again. Now a grizzled old priest held up one gnarled hand and the drumming and the singing ceased so suddenly, the silence echoed through the darkness. The only sound was the crackle of the flames and her own gasping breath. She was scared, so scared that she didn’t think her legs would support her if she made a run for it, but of course she couldn’t since Charish still held her arm. Beneath the robe, she felt perspiration on her naked skin begin to smear the scarlet and ebony ceremonial paint.
The old priest turned and looked at the Morning Star, seemingly suspended on the eastern horizon at this moment. He nodded toward Charish.
The dour warrior said to Luci, “Take off the robe. The people must see you naked and painted with the ceremonial paint
“Naked? Before all these people? No! I–”
But he reached out and jerked the robe away, and she stood there, naked and ashamed, her beautiful, petite body bared for all to see.
Luci cried out in protest and tried to cover herself with her hands while the people roared their approval at the perfection of her virgin body.
“Let them see you!” Charish commanded, and he grabbed her arms, twisted them behind her, and tied them while she struggled. Then he turned her slowly so that the crowd below could gaze on her lovely, nude body.
There was nothing she could do except close her eyes so that she could not see the hunger in the warriors’ faces looking up at her in the glow of the firelight. She brought her head up proudly and stood there, enduring the stares. She would show them the pride and dignity of the Cheyenne to these cowardly Pawnee!
If only Johnny Ace were here. What would he do? She thought bitterly. Nothing. Maybe he had known about this. Even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t bring down the wrath of his people on his own head by helping her.
When she opened her eyes, the priests were shouting instructions to each other and the people. She stood there on the platform, naked and proud, staring down into the hundreds of eyes. The men seemed to be fitting arrows to their bows. A priest pointed to the Morning Star on the horizon. Of course. The Morning Star ceremony. She had only heard it whispered about around the forts. She was going to be sacrificed. Why hadn’t she realized that?
She couldn’t escape. Very well, she would show them how a Cheyenne died. To Charish, she said, “Even a Cheyenne girl has more bravery than a Pawnee dog!”
His cruel eyes gleamed with admiration. “What a waste to sacrifice a female like you! What a waste that some Pawnee doesn’t get to enjoy that virginity!”
Wasted virginity. She thought of Johnny Ace, regretted the chances she had missed to let him make love to her. Now she would never experience that coupling between a man and a woman that led to such ecstasy. Then she chided herself. He was an enemy. His people were about to murder her and all she thought of was the taste of his mouth, the way his strong arms had sheltered her against his chest. How ironic that in the seconds before her death, all she could think of was an enemy warrior.
The priests came forward and began to tie her. She glanced up at the beam out over the fire. She knew now what was to happen. They were going to hang her out over that fire and at the precise moment she swung to face the Morning Star, there would be hundreds of arrows loosed to pierce her naked, painted body. Her scarlet blood would drip into the fire to ensure a good planting and harvest.
She would show them how a Cheyenne could die. These cowardly Pawnee would be impressed with her bravery and dignity. For only an instant as they bound her, she wondered if she would feel the flames or if the shower of arrows would kill her quickly so that she need never feel the heat on her defenseless skin.
She was so afraid, she could not swallow and her heart pounded as loudly as the drums. Tears tried to well up in her eyes and she blinked them back. She would not let the enemy see her fear. She closed her eyes, hoping it would be over quickly, wondering what part Johnny Ace had played in this, then shook her head. She could not believe it of him. From the first moment she had seen him, he had protected her, looked after her. Was it his revenge because she had spurned him when he wanted her?
It didn’t matter now. She saw his strong dark face in her mind and it comforted her. As she died, she would think of him, remember the taste of his mouth, the strength of his arms around her.
Vaguely in the distance, she heard a horse whinny, and she half opened her eyes. Was that Johnny coming in at a gallop? She felt a deep, burning disappointment. So he was arriving just in time to see the enemy Cheyenne girl sacrificed. She wouldn’t have believed it of him. And in spite of it all, deep in her heart, she loved him still.
Johnny rode at a gallop into the Skidi village and turned Katis toward the crowd gathered around the roaring fire in the center of the open area. What the hell was going on?
He reined in, almost unnoticed in the darkness by the milling, chanting people. He looked up in horror at the platform with the ceremonial-garbed priests, Charish standing next to a small, bound woman.
Her naked, painted body was beautiful and she looked out at the crowd bravely while the priests conferred. Her tragic eyes were full of dignity as if she knew she was to die and would show them how to meet death with her chin raised high. Blue eyes. Eyes the color of a starry sky.
With a strangled cry, he recognized Luci even as Katis whinnied. The sacrifice to the Morning Star. In that split second, he realized he would have to make a choice between his heritage and the girl.
If he tried to stop this ceremony, he would be forever an outcast and an outlaw among his own people. What a price to pay in a vain attempt to save a girl who hated him, had spat at him, fought him. Enemy. Beloved enemy.
He looked up at her. She looked back at him. In the length of a heartbeat, he made his decision. There was no chance to save her against all these hundreds of his people, but he would die trying. At least he would fight his way up that platform and they would die together as he tried to defend her. If he could just hold her one more time, he didn’t care if they killed him.
“We’ll die together, Star Eyes!” With a curse, he slashed the startled Katis with his reins and crashed through the crowd at a gallop.
Chapter Nine
With eyes closed, Luci stood prepared to die. She didn’t want to see the arrows flying through the air in the split second before they found their target. Perhaps one would pierce her heart and she would die instantly before she felt the flames burning her alive.
She heard noise, shouts, confusion. She blinked. Katis galloped through the crowd, scattering people. They scrambled to get out of the path of the stallion’s big hooves. The reflected firelight gleamed on Johnny’s knife as he rode to the foot of the platform, swung down, and raced up the steps.
So he was the one chosen to administer the fatal thrust before the rest of the ceremony took place. In that split second as he mounted the steps, fast and fleet as a mountain cat, she was both saddened and relieved. No one could handle a blade like Johnny Ace. He would kill her skillfully, painlessly. And yet she had thought he cared for her. Perhaps it was revenge on his part against an enemy girl who had vexed him so.
The next split second was a blur of babbling, shouts, and shoving.
Almost in a daze, she watched Charish throw up a protesting hand, and scream out a challenge as he reached for his own knife.
Quick as a heart beat, Johnny stabbed the big warrior and shoved him aside, grabbing for Luci. “Star Eyes, will I never stop saving you?”
Even as she blinked in disbelief, his blade slashe
d her bounds. She collapsed into his strong arms. “Johnny, you came for me! I thought–”
“No time for that now, Small One! We either escape or die together!” With that, he swung her up against his wide chest and turned back toward the steps even as the stunned crowd stared at him in disbelief.
A priest shouted a protest, but Johnny shoved him aside and ran down the steps. All Luci could do was cling to him as he carried her and fought his way down the steps. They would never make it, she thought, but they would die together. Somehow, that was enough for her.
But she hadn’t counted on how fast Johnny could move or how stunned the crowd was. Even as he threw her up on the black horse and swung up behind her, the crowd still stood as if paralyzed-as if they could not quite believe what was happening: that a Pawnee would defy his priests and make enemies of his own people to save a mere enemy girl.
“Hang on, Star Eyes, we haven’t got a chance, but we’re gonna try!”
She nodded, clinging to his big body as he urged the stallion to wheel and run. Behind them, the priests yelled at people to stop the pair.
The night air felt cool against Luci’s perspiring face. Johnny turned the horse through the crowd and people ran to escape the great drumming hooves. Behind them, people milled in confusion, but the riders had gained the edge of the circle now and were galloping away from the village.
“Oh, Johnny, we won’t make it!” She clung to him as they raced through the night.
“Then we’ll die together, Star Eyes, I won’t let them have you!” So saying, he held her against the shelter of his wide chest and the big horse thundered away.
There was nothing she could do but hang on to him as the horse ran. She was helpless and naked, his big body her only protection. Behind them, a hundred warriors loosed a flight of arrows or fired shots after the fleeing pair. But the big horse could run, and he ran as if all the devils were pursuing them.
Luci closed her eyes and lay her face against the soft buckskin of Johnny’s shirt while the prairie disappeared beneath the stallion’s drumming hooves. She felt the heat of his big hands on her bare skin as he cradled her, but nothing mattered any more except making it to safety . . . and that he had cared enough to come for her.
Cheyenne Caress Page 13
