Indigo Sky
Page 27
The little man scurried away and dived into the coach.
Charley dusted his hands together and glared at the other two men and sneered. “Well, ladies, yer carriage awaits ya.”
An elderly gentleman puffed out his chest. “I object to your tone. And how dare you insult us?”
“Ah, piss off, ya old goat!” Charley went to Joshua and Michael. “I’ll make the yellowbellies sit atop or ride a horse.”
Michael shook his head. “I was going to ride anyway, and so will our wives. Those snivelers can squeeze into one seat. We obviously can’t stay here. Get us to Fort Hall. They should have a physician.”
Charley nodded. “Let’s get goin’ then.”
By the time Fort Hall came into sight six days later, Rork had a raging fever. Cornelia sat cross-legged on a mailbag next to him, swabbing his face with wet cloths. She sagged with relief when the incessant jolting and swaying stopped. “Help is at hand, Rork,” she whispered.
Michael opened the door. “You all right, honey?” She climbed out, and he put an arm around her. “Some grueling journey.”
She leaned against his broad chest, sweeping a strand of blond hair off her damp forehead. “Well, it’s over. We must get a physician. Rork is not faring well.”
Charley organized a stretcher for Rork and ensured he was safely in the care of the army physician. “Are ya leavin’ him here an’ movin’ out with me, or are y’all stayin’?”
“We’ll stay, of course.”
Charley touched the brim of his hat. “Then I’ll bid ya farewell.” His good eye twinkled at Joshua. “Thank ya again for helpin’ with them Injuns.”
Michael lifted one eyebrow. “You aren’t resting here tonight?”
“Nope. Enough time lost already.” He handed Michael the arrow on a leather thong. “Be obliged if ye’d give this to Mr. Millburn. Tell him I’ll not forget his brave deed—if he makes it.” He strode out, slapping the rolled whip against his thigh.
The friends stared after him then looked at each other. “Well, that was positive, if nothing else,” Michael muttered, slipping the arrow necklace into his pocket.
Rork burned with fever for a week, and the friends wondered if he would indeed make it. Cornelia hardly left his side, constantly swabbing him with cold, wet cloths.
Michael walked into the infirmary with Joshua and Kate, putting a hand on Cornelia’s shoulder. “Have a break. We’ll take turns keeping him cool.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.” She put her hand on Rork’s forehead. “He actually feels cooler, and he’s calmer. When the physician dressed his wound earlier, it seemed cleaner, and the inflammation has gone down. I think he’ll be all right.”
Rork’s eyes opened, and he blinked, shying from the light. “What happened?” he croaked, running a tongue over cracked lips. “Thirsty.”
“Thank God!” Cornelia smiled and lifted his head, dribbling water between his cracked lips. “Your wound became infected, and fever beset you.” He struggled up, and Cornelia pushed him down. “You are not going anywhere, Mister.”
“I have to find Leila. Something is wrong. I can feel it.”
“And you will, but you need to recover first. And Leila will be quite safe with that trapper.”
“You’re a bully,” he said, and fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter 35
Screeching and hollering echoed against the cliff face. Tom held up his hand, grabbed the harness on Leila’s horse, and dragged her behind the boulders.
He dismounted, and she followed suit. He pointed up at the mountain.
She nodded, heart pounding as they slowly climbed rocks to the summit. Her foot slipped, dislodging a stone.
Tom glared at her, put a finger over his lips, and continued the climb.
Sweat streamed off her face, and her fingers slid off the boulders. She struggled up the steep incline after Tom.
He reached the top and waited for her to draw level. “Dog Soldiers,” he whispered, pointing and handing her a telescope.
“It looks like some of them are injured,” she whispered. As the Indians rode closer, she drew a sharp breath. They were a frightening sight.
“Keep very still. My guess is that they attacked someone and came out second best. Their mood will be bloody. If they catch us, we will be killed.”
Leila nodded and handed back the telescope.
A man in an ornate headdress held his bleeding side, galloping close to where they hid. Three Indians carried injured men slumped over their horse’s withers. One of the Indians yelled.
Tom crawled around the boulder. “They’ve found our horses,” he hissed. “Let’s get to the cave backside of these rocks. Hurry, and don’t make a noise.”
Panting, Leila scrambled after him, dislodging rocks. She had heard stories of atrocities carried out by Indians. She crouched low.
“Keep quiet, girl!” Tom hissed then disappeared down the other side of the rocky hill.
Leila slipped on the next outcrop of rocks. She fell and rolled into a massive rock. Agonizing pain shot through her. She hit the bottom with bone-jarring impact. Dazed and disoriented, she lifted her head.
Close by, Indians chattered and bushes rustled.
Leila turned onto her stomach and clamped her mouth shut to muffle a painful cry. She ignored the pain and pushed up onto her knees to crawl toward the undergrowth.
Horses neighed, and the noise of men crashing through the bushes grew louder.
The ground sloped toward thickets. She had to hide. Sobbing, she crossed her arms over her chest and rolled down the incline, landing in a thick clump of thorny shrubs. She bit her lip to stop from crying out as thorns hooked into her flesh. Rocks rained down on her. She squeezed her eyes shut and lay still.
The Indians were close, very close to the place where she’d fallen.
They whooped triumphantly, and a hand grabbed Leila’s hair, dragging her from the thorny hideout.
Screaming hysterically, she fought to escape. She caught a glimpse of a knife flash in the sunlight and increased her struggles.
A sharp command from the leader stayed the warrior’s knife. With a growl of discontent, he hauled her up and dragged her toward his horse.
Snarling like a trapped cat, Leila raked her nails down his face.
He shook her and grabbed a leather thong from his waistband. He tied her hands in front of her with a length of yucca rope. He mounted his horse in one fluid leap, and jerked the rope, forcing her to run behind.
Leila looked back. Her breath rasped in her dry throat. Unable to see Tom, her heart shriveled. She knew the cave hid him and shielded her abduction. Horrid tales of Indian torture swam in her head.
Leila’s strength flagged, and she stumbled.
Reining his horse, the warrior turned, his dark eyes searing her with hatred. He barked something and jerked the rope.
She fell to her knees and glared at him. “I can’t run anymore!” she screamed. She turned her anger to the leader slumped on his horse. “Tell your Dog Soldier to stop his abuse—emphasis on the word dog!” she spat.
“You say much, squaw,” he rasped and clutched his side. Blood seeped through his long brown fingers.
Her eyes widened. “You speak English?” Hopeful, she said, “I must rest. Water. I need water. I’m p—” She stopped, recalling a story of Indians cutting out a woman’s unborn child.
The leader issued a brief command. Her captor dismounted and thrust a hide flagon of water into her bound hands. Pulling off the leather stopper with her teeth, she gulped the water, spilling it down her neck and wetting her shirt.
The warrior growled and snatched it away. “No waste.”
“No need to be so rude. Maybe you don’t know how hard it is to drink tied up.” Leila wi
ped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at the leader. “My name is Leila. What is yours?”
“Hook Nose.”
She grinned. He was well named. “Please release me. I meant you no harm.”
Hook Nose issued a command, and her captor lifted her and threw her over his horse’s withers.
Her breath escaped with a whoosh, and she winced. How will my baby ever survive this abuse? The warrior mounted, once more on their way. Arms crushed under her, she cried out with the impact of every jolt. Lifting her head, she tried to twist onto her side.
The warrior jerked her up and sat her in front of him; his sinewy arms trapped her. He said something in a deep voice.
“I don’t understand.”
“No jump.”
“Oh, so apart from one word, you do speak a sort of English.”
His black eyes pierced her. “Red Arrow, no speak.”
“Of course you don’t,” she said and settled into the rhythm of the galloping horse.
The conical hide tipis were starkly outlined against an indigo horizon streaked with orange. The sun rested on the low hills.
Injured warriors were lifted off the horses. Their women wailed. A woman ran to Hook Nose, tears running down her smooth olive cheeks. She reached up to touch him. He shook his head and spoke softly to her, pointing to Leila. She eyed her and compressed her full lips.
Hook Nose pushed her shoulder gently. She nodded, dragging her feet to Leila. “Come,” she mumbled.
Red Arrow shoved Leila off the horse.
She landed on her feet, but her legs buckled. She struggled to stand and held the woman’s intense black eyes. She stretched out her hands. “I’m Leila. What’s your name?”
The woman hissed like an irate cat, grabbed the rope attached to Leila’s hands, and dragged her to a tipi. Untying her hands, she opened a hide flap door and thrust Leila into the tent.
Leila fell to the floor. She scrambled to the far side of the tent, sat against a wooden pole, and wrapped her arms around her legs. Tears slowly coursed down her cheeks, and she brushed at them, sniffing. “I’m sorry, Rork. Sorry I didn’t tell you I love you—loved you from the moment I saw you.” She slipped one hand to her belly. “I’m sorry you’ll never be able to hold our baby.” Regret choked her, and her tears fell in earnest. She sagged down and curled up into the fetal position. “Please hear my heart, Rork. Know that I love you and always will, even after death.”
The flap opened, and the woman crawled in with food on a wood trencher. She sat cross-legged with the trencher between her and Leila. “Eat.”
Leila wet her lips and picked up a fire-roasted ear of corn. She was starved. She ate with little finesse and helped herself to squash and meat. She reached for a second chunk of meat.
The woman slapped her hand. “No pig!”
Leila bit her lip. It seemed all her manners, carefully taught by her mother, had disappeared. Lord, have I become savage like this land I traverse? She wiped her hands on her trousers. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
The woman handed her a bowl of water with herbs floating in it.
Heat invaded Leila’s cheeks, and she washed her hands. “My apologies for my bad manners.” She managed a smile. “What is your name?”
“Little Star.”
“You speak English. What will happen to me?”
“Red Arrow need woman.”
Leila blinked. “H—he wants a concubine?”
Little Star compressed her mouth and picked up the trencher.
Leila grabbed her arm. “I-I’m married.” One white lie didn’t seem important, but something cautioned her not to divulge her pregnancy.
Little Star grimaced. “Not matter. If he come, Red Arrow kill him.” She shrugged. “No more husband.”
Leila gaped at her. There has to be a way out of this. Maybe Tom will find me before Red Arrow ravishes me. She clenched her fingers. I’m to be a concubine—a whore. He will have to rape me because I’ll never submit.
Night descended for the third day, increasing Leila’s anxiety. Tom didn’t seem to be coming. She had no idea how he would secure her freedom, if he did. Leila tossed and turned on her pallet. Perhaps he doesn’t know what happened to me. She pounded the bedding. “How can he not know? He’s supposed to be this wondrous tracker!”
Dawn finally broke, and Leila sat listlessly on the pallet. Is today the day he rapes me? Death was preferable to her.
Little Star peeked through the doorway and crooked her finger. “Come.”
Leila crawled out and blinked against the strong light. Rising stiffly, she stretched, enjoying the sun on her face. She smiled at children laughing and playing between the tipis.
A group of women waited for her. “You bathe.”
Leila almost laughed with relief.
The women led her silently to a copse of trees. A stream gurgled over the rocks. They stripped her clothes off, urged her into a deep pool, and washed her with a chunk of herb-scented soap.
She reveled in the cold water until an elder hustled her out, drying her with scraps of soft hide.
Stony faced, the elder worried her gums and mumbled something as she rubbed oils on Leila’s body. Deep crevices on her face sagged in a perpetual expression of discontent. The elder peered over Leila, her small black eyes glittering with malice. She rattled off an angry tirade.
One of the young women giggled behind slim fingers.
Leila glanced from one to the other. “What did she say?”
Little Star arrived with a hide garment over her arm and handed it to the elder. “She say you white like chicken fat and don’t know why Red Arrow want you.”
The truth dawned on Leila. This was the moment she’d dreaded. She backed away, holding up her palms. “N-no!”
Snarling, the elder grabbed Leila and issued brief instructions. The other women hastily pulled the buckskin dress over her head. Beads and feathers decorated the soft garment. Had circumstances been different, the dress would have delighted Leila. The women took her arms and led her back to the lodge.
Red Arrow stood in the center of a clearing between the tipis, hands behind his back, black eyes impassive.
Leila’s heart pounded, and she hung back. The women shoved her, and she fell to her knees at the warrior’s feet. “I-I will not be your woman—your whore.” She took his callused hand. “Please, I have a husband.”
He shook her off. “You obey.”
“I can’t—won’t!”
Red Arrow looked at Hook Nose. The leader nodded at a group of warriors. They stepped forward and hauled Leila up, dragging her from the clearing.
She twisted around. “What are they going to do to me?” she cried.
Hook Nose rose from his mat with difficulty. He held his side, which was bandaged with leaves held in place with leather thongs.
“You are of no use to Red Arrow anymore.”
Fighting to escape, she screamed at Hook Nose as he walked away, “What will happen to me?”
A warrior barked something at her. He brought up his arm and backhanded her.
Leila’s head snapped to one side. Her senses swam, and she sagged. They jerked her up and dragged her from the lodge. “Wait! Wait! I’ll do as he wishes—be his concubine!”
Red Arrow held up his hand, and the warriors released her. He moved slowly toward her and planted his fists on his hips.
Leila ran a tongue over her dry lips and stared up at him. The sun gleamed on his bronze, muscular torso. The finely chiseled planes of his face held no compassion. “Please, I will be your woman.”
Red Arrow crossed his arms. “You trouble!” He barked something at the warriors, and they grabbed her arms, dragging her to the tipi she’d occupied.
Lightheaded with relie
f, Leila crawled into the now familiar tipi and lay on the floor, drawing rapid breaths. Her fingers curled, digging into her palms.
Chapter 36
Forced to do labor-intensive tasks, Leila worked in silence, planning an escape and pondering how her life had changed—how she had changed. Gone was the spoilt and pampered debutante.
She staggered under the weight of a leg of bison and tried to hang it on a hook to be cut into strips for drying. It slipped and fell to the floor.
The elder picked up a strap and flailed Leila’s back, screaming, “Bad! Useless worm!”
Leila ground her teeth and picked up the leg. “Those seem to be the only words you know, you evil-tempered old hag.” A foot slammed into Leila’s backside, sending her to the ground. She cried out and fell hard. She rolled and clutched her stomach.
The elder jabbered insults in her tongue. She leaned down and pulled Leila’s rawhide dress up, exposing her stomach and genitals.
Leila glared at her and jerked the dress down. “Stop that, you horrible bitch!”
Little Star stood over Leila. “You not call Red Arrow’s mother that.” She pointed at Leila’s stomach. “You have child in belly.”
Leila scrambled backwards, shaking her head. “I-I didn’t know she was his mother.” She wrapped her arms across her stomach. “And I’m n-not having a baby.”
Little Star spun away and left the tipi. Moments later, Red Arrow and Hook Nose arrived and stared impassively at her.
Hook Nose folded his arms across his chest. “You dare to insult Red Arrow’s mother, squaw!”