would tell me that I am savage?"
She wasn't sitting, she was kneeling, in exactly the position in which
he had pressed her. She was trembling, shaking like a leaf blown in
winter, and she was praying that Jamie would arrive and rescue her.
But of course, she didn't know if Jamie was alive or dead. He had faced
Chavez in a knife fight, and she couldn't know the outcome. And now she
was facing an articulate Apache who seemed to have reason to want
vengeance.
"You speak English exceptionally well," she said dryly. He did not
appreciate her sense of humor. He wrenched her to her feet and pulled
her against him. "You will find no mercy with me," he assured her.
"Do not beg." "I--I never beg," she said, but the words came out in a
whisper. She wasn't certain if they were defiant or merely pathetic. It
didn't matter. He pushed her forward, then tossed her over his shoulder
again.
"No!" she protested wildly. She hit his back, but he did not notice her
frantic effort. She braced against him and screamed, loudly.
desperately.
Jamie. Dear God, where was he now?
Perhaps it did not matter. Perhaps there was no help for either of them
anymore.
That brought him to a halt. He lifted her and slammed her down upon her
knees. She tried to rise, and he pressed her down with such fury that
she went still. He towered over her.
"Savage? You, a white woman, would call me savage? No one knows the
meaning of brutality so well as your own kind. Let me tell you,
Sun-Colored Woman, what the white man, the white soldier has done to us,
to my people." The moon rose high, shimmering down upon him with sudden
clarity. Nalte, his bronze shoulders slick and heavily muscled, walked
around her.
"In 1862 your General James Carleton sent a dispatch unit through Apache
Pass. Cochise and Mangas Coloradas lay in wait. There was a fierce
battle, and Mangas Coloradas was seized from his horse. He was taken to
Janos, but his followers told the doctors that he must be cured or their
town would be destroyed. So he survived.
"Mangas Coloradas survived so that he could come a year later, under a
flag of truce, to parlay with the soldiers and miners for peace. He was
seized.
Your general ordered that he have Mangas Coloradas the next morning,
alive or dead. So do you know what your civilized white people did to
him?
They heated their bayonets in the fire, and they burned his legs, and
when he protested, they shot him for trying to escape. It was not
enough. They cut off his head, and they boiled it in a large pot. Do you
understand? They boiled his head. But now you would sit there, and you
would tell me that I am savage?"
She wasn't sitting, she was kneeling, in exactly the position in which
he had pressed her. She was trembling, shaking like a leaf blown in
winter, and she was praying that Jamie would arrive and rescue her.
But of course, she didn't know if Jamie was alive or dead. He had faced
Chavez in a knife fight, and she couldn't know the outcome. And now she
was facing an articulate Apache who seemed to have reason to want
vengeance.
"You speak English exceptionally well," she said dryly. He did not
appreciate her sense of humor. He wrenched her to her feet and pulled
her against him. "You will find no mercy with me," he assured her.
"Do not beg."
"I--I never beg," she said, but the words came out in a whisper. She
wasn't certain if they were defiant or merely pathetic. It didn't
matter. He pushed her forward, then tossed her over his shoulder again.
"No!" she protested wildly. She hit his back, but he did not notice her
frantic effort. She braced against him and screamed, loudly.
desperately.
Jamie. Dear God, where was he now?
Perhaps it did not matter. Perhaps there was no help for either of them
anymore.
Chapter Eleven.
Nalte moved through the darkness so swiftly that Tess had little idea of
how far they traveled. She felt as if they twisted and turned
rdentlessly, but slowly she realized that they were moving downhill. She
tried at first to reason with him, but he ignored her, and it was
painful to t~ to talk when she was held so 'tightly against him. She was
exhausted, and the words she hzd said to Chavez were true at the very
least. She wanted to be free from Nalte, but she did not feel the same
loathing for the man that she had felt for Chavez. And now she knew
Jamie was alive. Or at least he had been alive. lie had gone to battle
Chavez, but now she had hope, if not ling else.
Hope. Could he come for her against Nalte? Could he slip out in The
darkness and come furtively against the Apache? S~ didn't know what to
think anymore. She hadn't thought that Nalte would speak English, but he
did so, very well.
He halted suddenly, letting out the cry of a night bird, and was
answered in kind. He started to walk again and they descended a final
cliff to a clearing where tepees rose magically againft the night sky,
and where camp fires burned with soft gl~s, where only the movement of
shadows could be seen.
Nalte set her down and let out the soft sound. of a bird cry once again.
From the shadows a man emerged. He was dressed as Nalte was, in a breech
clout He wore high buckskin boots and numerous tight beaded necklaces,
and carried what appeared to be a U. S. Army revolver. He began to speak
with Nalte very quickly, and Nalte replied. Then the man turned and
disappeared into the shadows. The Apache camp was sleeping, Tess
thought.
"Come," Nalte told her, catching her arm and leading her across the
camp.
She saw more shadows. The camp might sleep, but men were on guard.
She started to shiver, realizing that now she had no defenses. She had
enjoyed a certain safety with Jeremiah and David, so much so that she
could even be sorry that Jeremiah had been killed so coldly. But now.
She had come here as Nalte's prize.. That had been yon Heusen's plan.
The darkness lay all around them, and Nalte was leading her toward the
largest tepee. It glowed in moonlight, and she could see the designs and
colors upon it, the scenes of warfare, the furs attached to the flaps.
Smoke rose from the hole where the structure poles met at the top
indicating a fire within the tepee.
"Get in," Nalte said, thrusting her inside.
She nearly fell, but she regained her balance and stood quickly, ready
to fight him whatever came. He let the flap fall over the entryway and
crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. She moved backward,
noting the amusement that flickered in his dark eyes. She stumbled upon
something, looked around and saw that blankets and packs of clothing
were neatly rolled against the sides of the tepee and that there were
several cooking utensils by the fire that burned in the center of the
tepee. Its smoke escaped through the high hole.
There was a woman in the tepee already. A young, very pretty woman, who
stared a
t Tess with wide eyes. Tess stared in return, coloring as dread
filled her. Nalte had wanted a blond woman: He already had a wife. He
intended to rape her here in front of his first wife.
He took a step toward her. She tightened her fingers into fists at her
side.
There was no escape here. This was not a place like the haphazard
Comanchero dwelling. If she could escape Nalte she would only be caught
by his warriors.
Jamie had been so close! Rescue had been within reach. But now she
couldn't even hope that he would come against the Indians. Nalte would
kill him.
Tess gazed from the young woman to the Indian.
"You are a savage!"
she shouted. Tossing her hair, she stared at him defiantly.
"I don't want you. I don't want to be here! I was kidnapped for your
entertainment! And now here sits your poor wife, and you think that
you're going to ... that you're going to ... No!" she shouted, for
the flicker of amusement had deepened in his eyes, and he was striding
toward her.
She lashed out wildly, her fists pummeling his chest. He seemed to
barely notice her effort, and bent low to pick her up and throw her on a
blanket roll. She opened her mouth to scream, but he did not come close
to her.
He stepped back, watching her.
"This is not my wife. This is my sister. And because of her, you will be
safe from me this night. With the light we begin the ceremony that makes
her a woman." He smiled at the woman, and there was deep affection in
his gaze, but it faded when he looked at Tess again.
"It is an important ceremony, a religious one."
He turned and found another blanket roll. He had dismissed her entirely,
Tess thought. She stared from the war' riot to the young woman, longing
to bolt for the opening. Nalte was already stretching out comfortably on
his blanket.
The woman tried to smile at Tess. She patted the ground, indicating that
Tess should sleep.
Tess swallowed, keeping a wary eye on Nalte. She pulled out a blanket
and carefully lay down on it. Stretching out, she pretended to close her
eyes.
But she kept watching Nalte. When he slept, she would try to escape. If
she could return to the trail in the mountains, she could possibly find
Jamie.
Was he alone? she wondered. Or was Jon out there somewhere with him?
She was exhausted, and tears threatened her eyes. No matter how hard she
tried, or how she fought, she never seemed to escape the fate that yon
Heusen had intended for her.
Jeremiah and David were dead, and she could pray that Chavez was dead,
yet it had done little for her. She was where von Heusen had intended
she should be, and she was certain that men braver than she and far more
knowledgeable of the rugged terrain could not escape the Apache.
Nalte was finally sleeping. She rose very carefully and tiptoed across
the dry earth flooring of the tepee to the slit.
She glanced at Nalte again. His eyes were closed, his features immobile.
She started to slip beneath the flap.
A hand wound around her ankle, bringing her down hard upon the floor.
In seconds the fierce warrior had crawled over her. His eyes were ebony
in the night.
"You have courage," he told her.
"But you are stupid!"
"You speak of our savagery!" she charged him.
"You deal with the despicable Comancheros, you buy rifles and women from
them!"
"My sister is my only family," he told her in turn, "because the others
were killed. Killed by white men. Beaten, skewered, broken and left to
die. My mother died this Way, my sisters. Babies, little babies. I have
not brought you here to kill you. Not unless you force me to."
"You are holding me against my will."
He touched a long strand of her hair. He seemed reflective for a moment.
"You will come to understand me," he told her.
"You will learn our ways, and you will be happy here."
"I cannot be happy!" she told him desperately. "We are not savages!"
She shook her head, moistening her lips.
"No, no more so than we. But I am not what you wanted. I" -- "You are
more than what I wanted," he interrupted, and he was smiling.
"Now go back to sleep or I will forget that I keep a sacred vigil this
night."
"Nalte, please" -- "Go back. Now."
She felt the tension in his arms and saw the fierce glitter in his eyes
and she knew that his warning was not without good reason. Hastily she
retreated. She curled into her blanket, pulling it around her ears. She
shivered. She didn't hate the Indian, but he didn't understand that. She
was not repulsed by him, but she had to be free, for she was not part of
his society. She wanted revenge. She wanted yon Heusen hurt as he had
hurt her.
And she wanted Jamie. She was in love with him, and that hurt more than
anything else. If it weren't for him, she could bear anything that
happened.
But he was out there, somewhere. And she could never forget him.
Morning came, and the blanket was pulled away from Tess's shoulders.
She gasped and opened her eyes, expecting to discover Nalte, but it
wasn't him. Several women stared at her.
They spoke to her, but she didn't understand them.
They pulled her to her feet. She protested, but was ignored. Nalte's
little sister smiled at her encouragingly. She had little choice, for
the women set upon her arms and drew her along with them. They left the
tepee to enter the family clearing. The sun was just beginning to shine
down upon the camp.
Men and women were busy, moving around. Some cleaned their weapons,
others watched her with curiosity.
The women moved around with buckets of water or with bowls of food.
A soft word was said to her, and she was moved forward. No one was cruel
to her, but she couldn't have escaped the women who were determined to
escort her.
She heard the stream before she saw it, as they walked a trail that
brought them through trees and dense shrubs.
From the trail she could hear the tinkling melody of the water,
reminding her that she was very thirsty, and that there was a certain
personal necessity she had to take care of. She was glad to he with the
women, even though she flushed when they tugged at her buckskins,
indicating that she was to strip and bathe.
Still, she felt better once the water was against her skin and once she
had swallowed huge mouthfuls of it. She realized that the women were
disappearing between a bank of trees, and she was certain the trees had
to be the latrine. She followed them, and thought longingly once she was
done of disappearing into the brush, but' even as the thought came to
her, she saw that two of her keepers had come for her. Again, they were
not cruel, but the women with the ink-dark hair and the huge dark eyes
placed firm hands upon her and took her to the stream.
There they ignored her. It was Nalte's sister who gained everyone's
attention. Once she, too, had bathed, she was dressed in a soft, pale
&n
bsp; buckskin dress with shades of yellow coloring on it. A yellow paint was
smeared over her face, and her hair was lovingly combed out and let
loose to fall beneath her shoulders. Necklaces were placed upon her,
beautiful pieces of beads and silver cones, and one rawhide strand with
a claw upon it. She smiled during it all, flushed and lovely.
It was her ceremony day, Tess remembered. And then she realized that she
had not been forgotten after all. A woman called for her from the bank
of the stream. She had no choice but to crawl out and let them stare at
her. They whispered over her nakedness and she flushed, backing away
when they would have touched her. Her pale skin was very different from
their own, she knew.
But it was her hair that seemed to fascinate them most--both that upon
her head and that upon her body.
They didn't tease her long, but gave her a new outfit to wear. It was a
soft, pale buckskin much like Nalte's sister's dress, but with no yellow
on it. It fell just to her knees. Her feet were still sore from her
barefoot treks over the mountain trails, and she had hoped that someone
would give her soft doeskin slippers to wear. But nothing was supplied
for her feet, and when she tried to ask one of the women, the Apache
shook her head. They were preparing to go back to the village, and Tess
was to go with them. Tess wondered again about her chances of escaping,
but she had heard that the Apache women could he every bit as fierce as
their men. The women were excited about the young girl they had dressed
so carefully for her rite, but their eyes were still upon her. She
walked along, weary and desolate, trying to focus her thoughts on her
hatred of von Heusen so that she wouldn't be able to fear her own
future, and to wonder desperately about Jamie Slater.
Her eyes were lowered, her head was down when they came into the
village.
She stumbled and looked up to see where she was going.
Looking across the compound she saw that four Indians were in curious
costumes with huge headdresses, obviously preparing for the rites to
come.
But the Indians were staring across the compound at a stranger who had
come among them. For a moment he looked very much like Nalte. Tess
narrowed her eyes, watching the man, trying to figure out why he looked
so familiar. He was dressed in buckskins from head to toe and he wore a
Apache Summer sb-3 Page 23
