Savage Splendor (Savage Lagonda 2)

by Constance O'Banyon

  When he reached the second floor where his apartment was located, he opened the door of the nursery and saw Tamera toddling toward him on unsteady legs. She laughed gleefully when she saw her father and held her arms out to him. Tajarez lifted her into his arms and smiled at the kiss she planted on his cheek. "Do you miss your mother, little Tamera?"

  Tamera nodded her head. "Mother," she said in her brand of baby talk.

  Tajarez handed her to Vista and picked up his son, Hamez, who had been named for his father. Lifting him over his head, Tajarez was rewarded with a happy giggle from his small son.

  Little Hamez fixed his father with an intense gaze with his green eyes. It was almost painful for Tajarez to look into Hamez's eyes, since they so closely resembled Mara's. Mara's and Hamez's eyes were a clear emerald color, while Tamera's were green with brown flecks.

  "Are the children eating well, Vista?"

  "Yes, my king," she answered with a smile on her face. It was not for her to tell the king that he had asked that very same question only that morning when he visited the nursery.

  Tajarez kissed Hamez on the cheek and placed him back in his bed. Ignoring his son's loud protest, he walked to the door. "I will be back to see the children later this evening, Vista."

  She smiled. There was no need for him to tell her he would return. He was a most devoted father, and Vista thought the people would be surprised if they could witness the many occasions on which their king sat on the floor playing with his offspring. He was a very loving man, and since Mara had become his wife, he showed his affection openly to those who were close enough to the family to witness it.

  To his people he appeared a commanding figure, but many were the times that Vista had seen the soft look of love in the king's eyes when he looked at the young queen. It was a special look that warmed Vista's heart.

  Vista's brother, Palomas, was protector of the queen, and their family had been honored to have two members serving the royal family. The positions she and Palomas held were coveted by many.

  She picked up the young prince royal, trying to soothe him. The two infants missed their mother greatly, and Vista would be happy when the queen returned. It seemed the young queen could brighten up a room just by entering it, and Vista, like many others, had been the recipient of the queen's kindness on many occasions. The queen had insisted that Vista's own baby daughter be brought to the nursery so she could have her near her. There were two other women assigned to help her with the twins, but Vista preferred to do most of the personal things for the young prince and princess herself. Her husband, Naras, had been given a position in the royal stables so the family could be together.

  "Do not cry, little prince," she soothed. "Your mother will be home soon. Until she returns Vista will speak to you each day of her, so you will not forget she loves you."

  * * *

  Tajarez entered the anteroom and found Sagas pacing the floor. He watched the old man in silence for a moment. Sagas stopped in front of Tajarez and glared at him.

  "You took your time coming. Did not Jeffery tell you that I sent for you?" Sagas demanded.

  Tajarez smiled slightly. Sagas had the habit of addressing the king as if he were his subject. But Tajarez took no offense. It had been no different when Tajarez's father had been king. Sagas the all knowing, the sage, was a very dear and trusted friend and advisor.

  "Had I known the summons was an order, I would have rushed to you, Sagas." Tajarez told him lightly.

  Sagas waved Tajarez aside. "I have to go away for a while," the old man said wearily.

  Tajarez saw nothing unusual in this. Sagas was always going into the mountains where he would disappear for long periods of time, and no one knew what he was doing or when he would return.

  "Where are you going, my old friend? When can I expect you to return?"

  "I am going to the mountains, and I do not know how long I will be away."

  Tajarez was thoughtful for a moment. "Did you hear about Unat's death?"

  "Of course," Sagas said impatiently.

  Tajarez raised his eyebrow. "You are in a rare good spirit."

  Sagas favored Tajarez with a look of disgust. "I have no time to pass pleasantries with you."

  "I was not aware that Unat's death and the danger Mara escaped was pleasant," Tajarez snapped. "Do you care to tell me why you are going?"

  Sagas avoided Tajarez's eyes. "I go into the mountains because I have seen a vision that disturbs me, and I need to be alone where I will not be distracted."

  Tajarez did not press Sagas. His long experience with the old man had taught him to ask no questions. Sagas would only tell him as much as he wanted him to know, and no more.

  "Can I reach you should the need arise?" Tajarez said, trying a new approach, hoping Sagas would tell him more of his plans.

  "You cannot reach me. When the time is right I shall return. There are black days ahead. Do not always believe the worst, but keep the faith," the old man said, looking inward. Tajarez watched as Sagas walked away from him with his white robe flapping against his bony legs.

  "Wait, Sagas, what do you mean about dark days?" he asked, feeling fear. Sagas was never wrong. If he said something would happen, it would always come to pass. "Sagas, is Mara in danger?"

  Sagas turned to Tajarez as he reached the door. He saw the worried frown on his king's face. There was no need to worry him unless he could not find Mara. "Be at peace, my king. Mara was caught in a flood, but she was saved."

  The color drained from Tajarez's face and he rushed across the room to Sagas, and grabbed him by the arm. "What are you saying, Sagas, tell me about my wife!"

  Sagas knew he had already said too much. He had not intended to upset Tajarez. It was just that he himself was upset. The spirits had been unable to locate Mara since she had been taken away by the two white men. Mara must have removed the golden medallion.

  "There is no need for you to be concerned, my king. As I told you, Mara survived the floodwaters." He shrugged Tajarez's hand off his shoulder. "I must leave you now. Keep good thoughts."

  Tajarez wanted to call him back to make him explain about Mara being caught in floodwaters, but he knew Sagas would say no more. Wild thoughts kept nagging at Tajarez's mind. That night as he tried to fall asleep, his thoughts were still troubled.

  Sagas climbed the high mountain, not needing the bright moonlight to guide him. His footsteps were sure and accurate, for he had made the trip many times in the past. It was near morning when he reached the huge cave. The entrance was hidden by the thick foliage that grew along the rock wall. Across the opening of the cave there was a large boulder. With superhuman strength Sagas rolled the stone aside and entered the dank, dark cave. The first thing he did was to light a torch, which he placed in a metal holder that was attached to the stonewall of the cave. Sagas did not need the light. He knew the inside of the cave as well as a mother knew the face of her own child.

  He sat down on a rough buffalo hide, the only comfort he allowed himself. Closing his eyes, he looked inward to where his true sight could be found. No one knew it, but Sagas was almost completely blind.

  His voice was but a whisper as he rocked back and forth. "I am searching for you, Mara. I told you not to remove the medallion. How can I reach you? How will I guide you home?"

  Sagas saw only darkness. He was silent for a long time. Suddenly he saw a pinnacle of light, and Matio's face flashed before his eyes. "Ah, I have a tool. I will use the young warrior, Matio. He will be my eyes and my legs," Sagas said loudly. "I will find you, Mara," he said in a voice that shook with emotion.

  The Lagonda warriors searched both sides of the river thoroughly, desperately, hoping to find their queen. They found Palomas washed up on the shore. He was gravely wounded and they feared he would not live. For many days they continued to search, but they found no clue to lead them to their queen, and the young warrior Matio was missing. They did not find his body. It had been raining for some time and the downpour wiped out all foo
tprints. There was no clue for them to follow.

  Miraculously, no one had thus far lost his life because of the flood, unless the queen and Matio had drowned, or unless Palomas died from his wounds.

  Palomas was taken back to camp and examined by the young medicine man who was traveling with them. It was discovered that his wound had been made by a white man's bullet.

  Falon knelt down by Palomas with tears in her eyes, while Minet nervously clasped and unclasped her hands.

  "I wish Palomas would awaken. Perhaps he has some knowledge of the queen," Falon cried.

  The medicine man looked from one maiden to the other. "I fear Palomas will not recover. I doubt he will ever open his eyes again."

  It was a week after the queen's disappearance that the weary, dejected warriors returned to camp. Each man dreaded the thought of returning to the Seven Cities to tell the king Mara was missing, probably drowned.

  Jantu, who was next in command after Palomas, sat beside his gravely ill leader, wishing he would awaken and tell him what to do. He did not want to face the fact that if Palomas did not regain consciousness he would have to give the order to return to the hidden valley.

  Matio regained consciousness as the heavy rain fell on his face. He looked about him in a daze, not remembering where he was, or why he was lying on the ground. His head ached painfully. Reaching up, he tested the painful area and found his hand covered with blood.

  Suddenly he remembered! He and Palomas had been shot by two white men. He remembered trying to warn Palomas, but pain had exploded in his head and he had fallen into darkness.

  He rose unsteadily to his feet and staggered weakly forward. "Mara! My queen! Where are you?" he shouted. He dropped to his knees and examined the ground about him. It was no use, the rain had washed away every trace, every footprint. He remembered seeing Palomas fall into the water, but surely the white men had not shot the queen. They must have taken her, he reasoned. They would not harm her, would they? No, they would have made her their prisoner. He tried to think clearly, but his head was aching painfully. He could return to camp, perhaps Mara had been found and taken back there. No, if she had been found he would have been found as well, and taken back to camp. If he were to return to camp he would only waste valuable time. Perhaps the others were searching for her as well and he would meet up with them on the trail. He tried to pull himself over the high cliff, and he fell backwards many times before he finally succeeded.

  Matio had no way of knowing how long he had been unconscious, but he calculated it had been at least two suns. He was extremely hungry and thirsty. He could do nothing about his hunger for the moment, but he could drink from the river to relieve his thirst.

  Once his thirst was quenched he started moving in a northerly direction. Some unknown force, some instinct, was driving him, guiding his footsteps. He did not question the instinct's origin. He merely followed where it led him. He would push on until he found some clue that would help him locate his queen. Many times he fell to the ground in total exhaustion, only to rise again to forge on. When at last he fell to his knees, too weary to go further, he slumped over and slept, unaware that the rain had begun to fall again.

  Mara awoke and looked about her in total confusion. Where was she? She sat up slowly and tried to remember. She seemed to be lying on a blanket with a crude structure over her head to protect her from the falling rain. It appeared to be some kind of animal skin stretched across four stakes that had been driven into the ground. It was no more than a camp….She frowned. She was in the woods, and apparently alone. Her mind was a blank. She felt unbridled fear. What was she doing here? She looked down at her hand and saw some strange object she was holding. It appeared to be a golden medallion of some strange sort. She turned it over wondering where it had come from. There was some writing engraved on it, but she did not bother to read it. It was heavy and she did not want to slip it over her head. Looking down at her legs, she noticed she was wearing leather moccasins. Without thinking she slipped the medallion into one of the shoes. She stood up slowly, testing her legs to see if they would support her weight. She felt shaky and weak, so she leaned against the trunk of a tree.

  She had the strongest feeling that she did not belong in her surroundings. It appeared she was in some kind of a camp. There was a campfire, but it had evidently been put out by the rain that was falling. Mara looked upward and noticed the rain had ceased and the clouds were moving away leaving a bright, sun-kissed day. She circled the camp, looking for something that might appear familiar to her. There were several animal traps hanging from the branch of a tree, and many animal pelts lying against the tree trunk giving off a not too pleasant odor.

  Mara spotted a leather pouch, which she hoped would contain water. Lifting it to her mouth with shaky hands she took a sip to sample its purity. Finding it cool and refreshing, she drank deeply until her thirst had been satisfied. Now that she was no longer thirsty she looked about for something to eat. Spotting an iron skillet resting in the cold ashes of the campfire, she fell to her knees and scooped up the piece of meat in it and bit into it. It was not too tasty and she knew if she were not so hungry she would never have eaten it. She ate quickly, trying to alleviate the hunger pangs that were causing her stomach to growl in protest. After eating her fill, she felt somewhat better, in spite of the slight feeling of nausea that sent her back to the waterskin to sip the cool water.

  Circling the camp once again she tried to find anything that would give her a clue to where she was. Once more she had the feeling of not belonging. Suddenly she heard a sound in the bushes, and she clasped her hands tightly together, not knowing whether to run or to stay and face whomever or whatever it was that was walking heavily toward her.

  The bushes parted and Mara saw the tall form of a man appear. She held her breath as he walked slowly over to her. Her eyes were wide with apprehension as she studied him. He was an older man, with long red hair and a bushy beard to match. He was a stranger to her. She was sure she had never seen him before. His dress indicated that he was a trapper. He wore buckskin clothing and heavy leather boots, and over his shoulder he carried several small animal pelts. As she was studying him, he was also sizing her up. She lost some of her apprehension when his face eased into a broad grin.

  "Well now, little lady, I see that you are up and about. Did you get you something to eat?" His manner was friendly without being too familiar.

  Mara nodded an affirmative, still wondering who he was.

  "Can you talk?" he asked as he swung the animal pelts over a low-hanging branch. He looked at her with curious interest. She noticed his eyes were a soft blue color. His face she could not tell much about, for so much of it was covered with his beard. She found nothing in his attitude to make her fear him.

  "I do not know," she whispered, hearing her own voice for the first time and not recognizing it.

  "My name's Zeke Caulfield. Me and my brother, Jake, found you a few days back. You been a mighty sick little gal. Me and my brother were afraid you wouldn't make it, you being so tiny and all." He smiled down at her and chuckled. "You might be small, but you are strong, ain't you? What's your name?"

  Mara knitted her brow in confusion. "I . . . I do not know!" Panic encased her mind as she realized she could not remember her own name. "Oh, Zeke, I do not know who I am. Do you not know me?" she said in a pitiful voice.

  Zeke covered the distance that separated them in two long strides. He took her hand awkwardly. "Don't you fret none, little lady, your name will come back to you given time," he said, trying to comfort her, but not knowing how.

  "Well, well, so our little princess is awake at last," a second man said as he came up behind them.

  Mara spun around to see a man who closely resembled Zeke, although he was an older version. His hair and beard were completely white, but he had the same soft blue eyes as Zeke, and Mara knew he would be the brother Zeke had spoken of.

  "She don't recollect who she is, Jake."

  The o
lder man shook his head. "Is that a fact? Don't let that worry you none, little princess. A name ain't worth two whoops and a holler. Me and Zeke here aim to take good care of you till we can get you to a settlement where someone will likely know who you are."

  Zeke led her over to the shelter and sat her down on the blanket. "What you need is some hot food so you can put some meat on them bones."

  "Mr. Caulfield, where did you find me, and under what circumstances."

  Jake was slapping a slab of bacon in the iron skillet. He paused to look at her over his shoulder. He gave his brother a warning glance that told him not to upset the little princess in her state of mind.

  Zeke read his brother's message and spoke softly. "Why don't you call me Zeke, and my brother Jake? We ain't been called by our last name in many a year. As to how we found you, I will tell you this and no more for now. You was by a river and from the looks of you at the time you looked as if you had had a good dunking."

  "Where are you taking me?"

  "Me and Jake got us a cabin, not a far distance from here. We will take you there until you are feeling stronger, then we will take you to the closest white settlement."

  Mara leaned back on the blanket. Her head ached and she felt very tired. Her eyes closed and she felt herself drifting off.

  By nightfall Mara was still sleeping, so the two brothers decided not to awaken her, thinking she needed the rest more than the food. As they sat by the campfire eating bacon and beans they talked in hushed voices so they would not disturb her sleep.

  "Reckon she will ever recollect who she is, Jake?"

  Jake looked at the princess to make sure she was asleep and could not overhear him. "It's hard to say. Depends on how long she was a captive of them savages. I heard once of a woman was captured by them red devils who never remembered who she was. You recollect when we used to go to that Pawnee camp, where they had that red-haired white girl."