In silence they turned and headed at a walk toward the village on the terrace bordering the deep, rapid river. The sorrel followed docilely alongside Night, and Wanderer and Naduah rode almost knee to knee. The Wasps’ lodges stood among the white oak and overcups, the elms and hackberry trees along Sac-con-eber, the Little Wichita River. They could hear the laughter of children as they dove and splashed and threw sticks for their dogs to fetch.
“I remember when we used to do that,” said Naduah, breaking the silence. “Star Name and the dead Arrow Maker’s granddaughter and I.”
“Knowing Star Name, I suppose she still plays like that.”
Naduah grinned at him. “She never changes much. Not inside. But now she wants to marry, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know. My sources of information aren’t that good. And we just arrived, Spaniard, Big Bow, and I.”
“Big Bow?”
“The Kiowa. He’s running from an irate husband again. They’ve gone ahead with the ponies and the packs. I came to find you. One of the children said you’d be here. Tell me the gossip. Who’s the unfortunate warrior that Star Name has picked out?”
“What do you mean, unfortunate?” Naduah bristled a little, and Wanderer laughed, raising his arm as though to deflect a blow.
“I mean she’s such a stong-willed—” he hesitated ever so slightly, “—woman. She’ll be a lot for a man to handle.”
“I like her that way.”
“I like her kind of woman too, but not many men do.” He stared at her solemnly. “Whom does she want to marry?”
“Deep Water. He’s a very brave warrior, but he doesn’t have enough horses to buy her. She said she was tired of waiting for him to steal them, so she’s gone off on a raid with him. I think she intends to steal ponies to buy herself for him.” Wanderer laughed, and Naduah looked at him with delight. She had missed that laugh, rare as it was even when he was around. Tell me the three most beautiful things you saw or heard or touched today. That’s easy, Grandmother. Wanderer. Wanderer. Wanderer.
“How is Medicine Woman?” Naduah jumped a little at his question. Could he read minds too? She wouldn’t be surprised.
“She’s well enough, although I think she’s getting weaker and won’t admit it. It’s amazing how she gets around. People who don’t know her often don’t realize she’s blind.”
“And Pahayuca?”
“He doesn’t change either, unless he’s gained a few more pounds. On Pahayuca it’s hard to tell. Wind had a foal, a colt. I’ll show him to you. I bred her with one of Pahayuca’s best stallions.
“And Old Owl had to sell Cub back to the white people. They took him away over a year ago and he hasn’t returned. Some people say Cub turned white again, but Old Owl swears that won’t happen.”
“What do you think?”
“I agree with Old Owl.”
“Has anyone tried to buy you back, Naduah?” It was a painful question, but Wanderer felt he had to ask it.
“No. but some traders were here last month and stared at me. They were probably just surprised to see me. I suppose I stand out here.”
“If traders come, keep out of sight.” The intensity in his voice startled her.
“Wanderer, it’s been seven years. They’ve forgotten all about me back there.”
“They hadn’t forgotten Cub. And have you forgotten them?”
“Yes.” She didn’t even stop to think about it. “I’m one of the People. I would die if I were taken away, like a fish dies when it’s thrown up on shore.”
He didn’t answer her, and they rode in silence for a few moments. Finally Naduah asked what was on her mind.
“Will you be staying long this time?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On how long it takes me to do what I came here to do.”
“What did you come here to do?”
“Find a wife.”
Naduah flinched. Stupid! So you thought you were finally a woman. You’re still a child to him. You always will be. She tried to keep her voice light.
“Do you have someone in mind?”
“Yes.”
“Wanderer!” Pahayuca and Buffalo Piss and several of the men galloped toward them through the village, waving their robes over their heads. War ponies reared at their tethers and neighed in fright and dogs scattered in front of them. Naduah spoke fast.
“I suppose I won’t see you again until you leave and come to say good-bye as usual.”
He only had time to grin at her before he was surrounded and herded good-naturedly toward the council lodge. She watched him go, then slid off the sorrel and led him toward her tent. As she walked through the camp, she noticed the slight change that had come over it. The unmarried women were suddenly interested in their appearance. Several of them were combing and rebraiding their hair. And mirrors and paint were brought outside where the light was better. There was more tittering and more bustling as others tried to show how industrious they were.
They’re disgusting. Like dogs groveling for meat scraps. If Wanderer wants one of them, he deserves her. Naduah’s hair had almost dried in the sere air of the plains, and she tossed her head to shake stray wisps of it out of her eyes. It fell in gentle ripples to her waist, like a field of pale wheat ruffled by a light breeze. As she strode along, the rounded curves of her body flowed smoothly under her thin dress.
But inside, she was empty of everything but despair. It was finally going to happen. She had been dreading it for years. As she went looking for Medicine Woman for consolation, she remembered her grandmother’s words the first time Wanderer had left, seven long years ago. “He belongs to all of us.” Now, even worse, he would belong to only one.
Naduah sat disconsolately in front of her lodge, watching the evening fire die down. She had pulled her knees up in front of her, laid her arms across them, and rested her chin on her forearms as she waited to cover the fire with ashes for the night. She was using the chore as an excuse not to go to the dance, not to see the women flirting with Wanderer. The full moon was so bright she could see colors in the pretty quartz pebbles that littered the ground. From another part of the village she could hear the rise and fall of drumming and singing, carried on a fitful breeze.
The music had been going on for hours. She stood and looked toward where the drumming was coming from. The lodges glowed softly, like huge, fat candles set out under the canopy of trees. Overhead, the moon winked at her through the clouds, as though trying to cheer her up.
A pony trotted from among the lodges and headed in her direction. It was Night. As usual, Wanderer leaped off before Night had stopped completely. Wanderer dropped to the ground as gracefully and as casually as a mountain cat. The light from the fire and the moon gleamed on the rippling muscles under his smooth, chestnut skin.
As he turned to throw the reins over Night’s back, Naduah realized that he was naked. He wore moccasins and a breechclout, of course, but he was naked. The straight lines of the breechclout only emphasized and framed his long, lean body. It was the first time she had ever stared at a man that way. And it frightened her. But he fascinated her too. She couldn’t take her eyes off the flowing curves of his legs, the power of his haunches, and the straight line of his back. He wasn’t handsome. He was beautiful. He was like a wild animal perfectly built for the life he led. And he was as unconscious of his beauty as a wolf or a panther. She took a deep breath, clenched her fists at her sides, and spoke.
“Sunrise isn’t here. He went to the dance.”
“I know. I saw him. I came to find out why you aren’t dancing.”
“I told Takes Down The Lodge I would cover the fire for her.”
“How many hours does it take you to cover the fire?” He was mocking her again. Why didn’t he find his wife and go back to the Staked Plains and leave her in peace? Peace, she thought miserably. Was it possible to mourn someone who still lived?
“Come. You can ride with me.” He waited while
she covered the fire.
“I’ll walk.” As she started toward the sound of the drums, she heard Night trotting up behind her. A strong pair of hands gripped her, and almost as easily as when she had been a child, Wanderer lifted her up in front of him. His arms were like gentle vices around her and she knew there was no point in struggling. He thought of her as a child still, and there was no way she could prove him wrong. He would call her sister, and marry someone else, and go away and never come back.
She sat stiffly until they came to the ring of dancers just beginning to sway to the slow drumbeat. Overhead soared the black sky, brilliant with stars. The leaping light from the fire danced counterpoint to the slow drums. Naduah dismounted and joined the watchers, humming the low chant of the love dance along with the other singers.
The circle of women faced outward, rising from their heels to their toes in time with the music. Then they glided to the left, holding their arms out and choosing a partner from among the men. Wanderer didn’t wait to be chosen. He put his hands on Naduah’s shoulders. His touch sent chills down her spine and spawned a slight churning sensation somewhere below her stomach. It was the first time she had ever danced with him.
For an hour they swayed in the moonlight, circling, rising, and gliding to the hypnotic beat of the drums. The beat surrounded them and permeated them like the heartbeat of Mother Earth. Naduah danced with her hands on his hard shoulders and her eyes closed. Perhaps he was only being kind to her, to his little sister. But if she should die right then, this night would have made life worthwhile.
“I don’t want to get married.” Naduah sat stubbornly against the bedstead. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her mouth was set in the stubborn Parker line.
“Naduah, he is a chief. He will give you many things. It’s an honor for him to ask you.” Sunrise had given up and Medicine Woman was trying to talk reason into her granddaughter’s head.
Naduah didn’t want Wanderer to marry anyone else. But the thought of marrying him herself terrified her. It had taken her years to reach the point where she was comfortable with him as a friend, an older brother. Now they expected her to rush into marriage with him. It was preposterous. Besides, she couldn’t believe he really wanted her. She’d convinced herself otherwise.
“He’ll take me away from you. He’ll always be in council or on the war trail. He’ll take six other wives and have no time for me.”
“You’ll be lucky if he has six wives,” put in Takes Down. “There’ll tie less work for you to do.”
“I won’t marry him.”
It was unheard of. Sunrise shook his head in puzzlement. She couldn’t refuse. He had made an agreement with Wanderer seven years ago. But Sunrise had learned from past experience that Naduah was as impossible to intimidate as a boy. He tried one more time to persuade her.
“We’ll visit you often.”
“Will you move to the Staked Plains with me?”
“No. Our place is here with my mother and her brother.”
“And so is mine. How can I leave you and Pia and Kaku? Who will help Takes Down with all the work around here? Who will gather herbs for Grandmother? Star Name and Something Good and little Weasel and all my friends are here. I don’t know anyone among the Quohadi. I’ll be lonely. I won’t go.”
Sunrise sighed and went out into the night. If Wanderer wanted her, he would have to persuade her himself.
Naduah awoke with a start when a hand clamped tightly over her mouth. She stared up at the shadowy face above her, straining to see in the dark lodge. He slowly lifted his hand, and she looked around. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light from the banked fire and the moon shining through the leather wall, she recognized Wanderer.
“There’s no one here.” His voice was low and soft in the darkness. She lay, tense and afraid. She had heard the women talk of this, of what men did when they sneaked into a lover’s tent at night. But she couldn’t imagine it. The thought of him entering her, invading her, was terrifying. Yet she dared not cry out. She’d never escape the gossip and the shame.
She wore nothing under the thin blanket, and she felt helpless and vulnerable. Wanderer laid his fingers lightly on her lips and pulled back the cover. She shivered at his touch, and her heart tried to beat its way out of her chest. He placed a hand over it, cupping the full, round breast, and circled the nipple gently. She felt dizzy as his hands moved down her body, stroking and caressing, sending ripples of pleasure coursing through her. As his fingers wound into the golden hair between her legs, she cringed and whimpered, thrashing her head from side to side in protest.
He had been sitting on the edge of the bed. Now he lay down beside her, his long body warm against her. He half covered her while his hand rested between her legs. They both lay still a few moments until she calmed a little. Then he spread her thighs slightly. She couldn’t stop him. Her muscles had ceased to respond to her will.
She felt his fingers probing, and there was fire in the tips of them. Waves of heat flared through her groin, and she felt a silky wetness there. He dipped into the source of it and spread it upward through her soft, swollen ravine. His fingers trailed fire in their wake until he touched the tiny mound. Her back arched and she threw her arm across her mouth to keep from screaming. Every nerve in her body seemed to meet in that nub. Her whole being was centered there.
As he circled and stroked it gently with his fingers, the intensity built. She whimpered again, tossed by the waves of ecstasy washing over her. They left her arched and straining, for more and for an end to it. The crest came in pure, undistilled sensuality. When it ebbed, she lay there panting, drained and helpless. Her body still pulsed with a warm radiance that spread from her groin to her toes and her fingertips.
She turned to look at Wanderer, whose face lay so close to hers. He was grinning. He was grinning like a wicked boy who’s just pulled off a wonderful joke. She smiled back at him and, reaching out, touched his cheek with her fingertips. Remembering one thing from her past, she pulled his face toward her and kissed him lightly on his curved, sensual mouth.
He pulled away and frowned a little, as though tasting the kiss. Then he kissed her back. He tickled her gently until she rolled over and wrapped her arms around him to make him stop. They lay entwined, their hearts beating in unison. Finally he spoke.
“Will you come with me?”
“On two conditions.”
“What?”
“That you let me raid with you.”
“If you want.”
“And you do that again sometime.”
“We’ll do it often. And we aren’t even finished this time.”
As she pressed against him she felt him move, his cock hard and insistent. She buried her face in the hollow of his neck and shoulder.
“Wanderer, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t be. We’ll go slowly. I’ll only cause you pain once, then never again.”
Two days later, not long after dawn, Naduah hid in her father’s lodge with her family. They went about preparing and eating breakfast as though nothing out of the ordinary were happening. But Naduah could hear the stacatto “Li-li-li-li” of the women. The cry swelled as more of them joined in along Wanderer’s route. He was coming with horses to buy Naduah from Sunrise, but there was no call for so much commotion. Men were shouting raucous, good-natured taunts, and the children were cheering. How many horses was he bringing? Sunrise probably knew, but he wasn’t talking. His face was a maddening, noncommittal blank.
The noise outside grew into an uproar. Naduah felt her face and neck heat up. She was blushing, and she was grateful that she was expected to stay out of sight. Then she heard the thud of hooves. She tried to estimate how many ponies there were by the sound. The blush deepened. The three women, Naduah, Takes Down The Lodge, and Medicine Woman, looked at each other. Sunrise stared at the ground to hide a tiny, secret smile.
“A hundred horses,” said Medicine Woman matter-of-factly. Her ears were the sharpest.
&nbs
p; “There can’t be. No one pays that many horses for a woman.” Naduah would have estimated that many animals too, but she couldn’t believe it.
“Wanderer does,” said Takes Down.
Unable to resist, Naduah pulled back the edge of the heavy hide door and peeked through the narrow crack. Outside, it looked as though a river of ponies had overflowed and flooded the village. They jostled in the spaces between the lodges. There were stockinged bays and toasted sorrels, blue roans, horses the color of rust, fox-colored ponies, steel grays, and gaudy paints.
Naduah maneuvered the crack in the doorway until Wanderer filled the space. She shifted her position slowly to follow him as he rode toward the lodge. Her stomach churned with excitement, but also from pride and embarrassment and longing. He was beautiful, dressed in his finest clothes. But in her mind’s eye she saw him as he looked best. Naked.
While Spaniard brought up the stragglers. Wanderer piled the pony he led with presents and tied her apart from the others. The horse was the best of the herd, a young coyote dun with black legs and tail and a black stripe down her backbone. She was a gift for Naduah.
Then, without a word, Wanderer turned and rode away with Spaniard. Sunrise waited an appropriate time, and then a little longer, before going outside. He had a wicked sense of humor that was so subtle many people didn’t know it existed. It would be like him to let the village think he was spurning Wanderer’s incredible offer.
Finally, when Naduah thought she couldn’t wait a second longer, he beckoned to her. Together they went out to collect the horses. They led them to the pasture where their own herd grazed, and turned them loose. Sunrise had accepted Wanderer as a son-in-law.
Robson, Lucia St. Clair Page 43
