Through the Fire (The Native American Warrior Series)

by Beth Trissel

  Skizenoh released her and she dropped onto her knees beside it, plunging her bound hands into the frigid water. She brought her dripping hands to her lips again and again. Skizenoh knelt beside her and drank, though not with such desperation.

  He laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Drink too fast will make you ill.”

  It was a risk she was prepared to take. Had he told her the pool was poisonous, she still would have gulped great mouthfuls of the cold clear fluid until she dropped unless he’d prevented her. He relented, lifting his hand, and let her drink at will. Never had water tasted so good. Sated at last, she splashed her face and thought again of Shoka. Longing to be with him consumed her.

  She looked back at the gathering. Two dozen Catawba warriors had already come and more were arriving. She couldn’t expect Shoka to pluck her from the midst of so many. Yet, how was she to escape them alone?

  “What a predicament,” she murmured.

  Skizenoh wiped the water from his mouth and looked at her. “What did you speak?”

  “I’m in a great deal of trouble.”

  He bent his head nearer to her. His chin brushed her hair. “I will help you.”

  “You are very kind. But I’m Tonkawa’s captive.”

  Skizenoh darted wary eyes at her captor then looked back at her with determination. “I will not let him kill you.”

  “Will you watch him every moment?” She’d seen how little time it took to draw a blade across a throat.

  Skizenoh smiled faintly. “I like better to watch you.”

  Rebecca doubted a brave of his age, likely not more than eighteen, commanded a great deal of respect in the larger group. Still. “You are a Godsend.”

  “God? No.”

  The corners of her mouth tugged up in an unbidden smile. “Would you like to watch me eat?” she asked, more aware of her gnawing hunger now that her thirst was quenched.

  He got to his feet and helped her up. “I will get food. Take you to the fire.”

  She didn’t care to share the warmth cast by the dancing flames with Tonkawa or any of the other dour faces around the blaze. She drew the cloak that had stifled her before against the chill. “Please, take me away from the others. There,” she said, nodding at the recess in the back of the grotto.

  Skizenoh fingered his scalp lock, less severely plucked than her captor’s. “You think Tonkawa will forget you?”

  “Anything is better than keeping in plain sight.”

  He cast thoughtful eyes at the dark nook and gave a nod. “Wait here.”

  He walked across the cave floor while she crouched in the shadows as nervous as a cat stealing scraps from the dog’s bowl. Tonkawa stabbed a finger at the young man and lambasted him in Catawba.

  Skizenoh shot back a few terse words.

  The two bristled like dogs. An older warrior whose graying hair shone silver in the firelight shook his head at Tonkawa.

  He fumed in silence while Skizenoh sliced a portion of the venison, speared it on his knife, and walked away. She feared Tonkawa would leap up and follow him, but he remained seated beside the fire.

  Taking a dark blue blanket and deerskin from an alcove, Skizenoh walked to her, his mouth tight, eyes angry.

  “What did Tonkawa say?” she whispered.

  “He says I want only to—” Skizenoh stopped. “Make you my wife.”

  She doubted Tonkawa had phrased his remarks so delicately. “Did he say anything more about taking my life?”

  Evading her question, Skizenoh guided her toward the back of the cavern where the floor had been worn smooth by millennia of underground streams flowing across the rock bed. He halted short of that black hole leading to only God knew where and set the skewered meat on a flat, raised stone. He spread the deerskin on the floor and motioned her onto it.

  She sank down on the hide, glad for the padding and warmth, but horribly aware of Tonkawa. Skizenoh knelt and drew his knife. He sliced some venison and held it out to her.

  “Skizenoh?” she said apprehensively.

  “Eat now. I will not let Tonkawa harm you.”

  She tore into the smoky meat. “Thank you,” she said between mouthfuls.

  As he ate, he cut another piece for her. She snatched the cooling meat from him and devoured it. He sat down beside her and offered her more. She snapped up a third helping and a fourth.

  “You eat like a starved dog. Shoka not feed you?”

  She swallowed and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “He tried. And Meshewa. I was too distressed over the assault on Warden to eat much.”

  “Who is Meshewa?”

  “Shoka’s cousin. It’s a pity you and Meshewa are enemies. You could be good friends.”

  Skizenoh acted as scandalized as if she’d asked him to befriend the devil himself. “You are much alike,” she said.

  He snorted. Taking his wool blanket, he laid it across her shoulders. “You’re both kind to me,” she insisted.

  “You are like ituse, a soft white dove. I have no surprise Meshewa treats you well.”

  She slipped her numb hands out from under the blanket. “He would never keep me bound. Cut my cords. They pain me.”

  Skizenoh glanced at Tonkawa, then shrugged and picked up his knife. “I care not what Tonkawa wants,” he said, and severed the rawhide with a metallic whisk of his blade.

  Rebecca rubbed her chafed wrists, taking care where the cord had cut more deeply. “Tonkawa did not bind me. This was Captain Bancroft’s doing.”

  Even in the murky light, she saw Skizenoh’s black brows draw together. “You are English prisoner?”

  “For a short time. I escaped him.”

  “Why did the captain bind you?”

  “I’m not a traitor if that’s what you think. Black Knife sent me to Fort Warden to plead with Bancroft for surrender.”

  “You wish for this surrender?”

  “My uncle and cousin were in the fort. Black Knife promised to spare their lives if they returned with me and Shoka said far fewer would die if Bancroft surrendered.”

  “Perhaps. Still, surrender holds only defeat. With battle comes hope for victory.”

  She sighed. “Defeat came heavily today. My uncle lies dead. How many others fell?”

  “Not Captain Bancroft. The French capitaine took him prisoner.”

  She clenched her hands. “It isn’t right that bastard should live.”

  Skizenoh’s eyes flickered. “You hate the captain much to call him this name.”

  “He threatened to have me flogged. But there was something else he preferred to do.”

  Skizenoh grunted his disapproval. “Why did the captain think to force an English lady?”

  “Loving a warrior makes me little better than a whore in his eyes.”

  “You are right. Captain Bancroft is a bastard.”

  “Not only him. You think the English are your friends?”

  “They give us blankets, shirts, knives—”

  “To fight their enemies,” she broke in. “When they have no more use for your people, they will turn on you. Catawba would be better served to join forces with the Shawnee and fight the English.”

  His forehead furrowed. “Why speak this?”

  “If you heard what I did today, you would understand. The settlers thought I was crazy for giving myself to Shoka.”

  “Because he is Shawnee.”

  “Do you really think they would hold a better opinion of me if I belonged to you?” Rebecca countered.

  The corners of his eyes crinkled as he weighed her question. “Some better.”

  “Little. Their scorn for all Indians runs deep.”

  “So much you speak. You confuse me.”

  “Odd words, perhaps, coming from a white woman. But think on what I said.”

  He nodded. “I never saw a woman like you. Tell me your name.”

  “Rebecca Elliot. Shoka calls me Peshewa.”

  He smiled as though he understood the significance. “To me, you are Sweet
Dove.”

  “A lovely name, but I promise you I can be fierce when I’m not so weary.” She yawned, but it was cut short by a bout of shivering. “’Tis chilly in here. You wear no shirt.”

  “The cloth was torn from me in battle.” He twisted and lifted his arm. The edge of a knife or a tomahawk had cut a bloody red line down his side nearly to his waist, but his flesh hadn’t been deeply flayed.

  “That wound should be washed and a poultice applied.”

  He shook his head. “To gather healing leaves I must go from the cave, leave you to Tonkawa.”

  “Couldn’t you take me with you?”

  His lips hovered at her ear. “I will take you from here. Help you escape.”

  “You would risk this for me?”

  “To keep you from Tonkawa’s anger.”

  Sweet hope welled in her. “How? When?”

  “Tonkawa watches now. Later, when he sleeps.”

  Tonkawa did not appear at all sleepy when Rebecca darted a look at him. She couldn’t keep her own eyes open any longer, though. With another enormous yawn, she curled on the hide. “Share the blanket with me, Skizenoh.”

  He hesitated. “What will Tonkawa say?”

  She could well imagine. Likely Shoka would be none too pleased, either. “Come. I’ll not take your only cover.”

  Still he made no move to avail himself of the cover, so she changed tactics. “Please. I need your warmth.”

  He lifted a corner of the blanket and edged closer to her huddled figure. “To keep you safe.”

  “That, too. You saved my life today. I can never repay your kindness.”

  “You owe me nothing. Sleep, woman of many names.”

  ****

  “Will you lie together?”

  Rebecca snapped awake. Tonkawa hovered over her like an evil shadow. She didn’t know how long she’d slept or even what time of day it was. The cave was as disorienting and timeless as the grave.

  Feeling far too vulnerable lying down, she sat up. “We were only sleeping.”

  “Together? Have you no shame, woman?”

  Skizenoh slid out from beneath the blanket and narrowed his eyes in the face of Tonkawa’s scorn. “I must guard your captive from you.”

  “Her life is forfeit to me in place of my brother’s.”

  She wrapped her cloak more closely around her. If only it were a magic mantle and could lend her invisibility long enough for her to slip away. “Which one was he?”

  “If I say the first or the second Catawba warrior Shoka killed, will you know?”

  She recalled the appalling images the battle had seared into her memory. Was he the brave Shoka had shot or the one he felled with his tomahawk? It made no difference now.

  “I had no part in your brother’s death.”

  Tonkawa sneered. “You are Shoka’s woman.”

  “Damn it all, I’m English. Your bloody ally.”

  “No longer. You joined with Shawnee.”

  “I was taken captive,” she argued, wrenching her eyes from his glare, fearful he would fall on her with his knife, and desperately sought an outlet among the shadows. There must be some other way out of this cavernous prison besides the main entrance or that black hole behind her. She couldn’t fly from corner to corner like a crazed sparrow.

  Tonkawa crouched on the rock floor in front of her. He clenched her face in his hand and forced her eyes to his unrelenting stare. “Will you deny you are Shoka’s woman?”

  “You say I am.”

  “Tell me you hate him. Curse his name. Wish him dead.”

  She absorbed his unholy demand with a sick weight in her stomach. “If I do as you ask, will you release me?”

  He jerked his hand away. “Shoka wants you alive, in his embrace again. Tomorrow, you will die with the sun.”

  Skizenoh wrapped his arms around her waist. “I will not let you kill her.”

  Tonkawa spoke with ominous calm. “Chief Tasisuri says I may do as I like to her. Who will tell the English? Shoka?”

  A number of curious warriors left the campfire and walked closer to investigate the commotion.

  “Tai tciki hare! Do your eyes not see her beauty?” Skizenoh’s voice rose in an impassioned mix of Catawba and English.

  Like glowing embers stirred up in the fire, the hunger Rebecca had seen before returned to Tonkawa’s hard gaze. She shuddered as he ran his fingers over her cheek and her hair.

  “I see also Shoka’s lips on her fair mouth. When she falls, he will taste these lips no more. Never again know the softness of her skin, or hair like gold sun. My vengeance will be more bitter than his own death.”

  Rebecca shrank from this vile man back against her ardent defender.

  “Have you no wish to taste her sweet lips? Know her soft warmth?” Skizenoh asked, as if playing to Tonkawa’s appetites.

  Anger burned hotter than desire in the black eyes fastened on her. “Better she dies,” Tonkawa said.

  “Must she die to be lost to Shoka? Make her your wife.”

  Rebecca bit back an explosive refusal. If Tonkawa agreed to Skizenoh’s suggestion, it would buy her time for escape.

  His fingers lingered in her hair as though he loathed releasing the long lengths. “Shoka will try to reclaim her.”

  “Tomorrow we will go. Keep her from him,” Skizenoh said.

  “He will follow, bring Shawnee warriors after us.”

  “We will fight them.”

  Rebecca sensed Tonkawa’s grudging reluctance as he dropped his hand, but his resolve was greater.

  He straightened his back. “I wish Shoka to find his woman with the life flown from her.”

  Skizenoh clutched her. “You must fight me.”

  Tonkawa gestured toward the other watchful warriors. “Will you fight us all? Must we tell your father his foolish son died for a woman?”

  Rebecca took a shuddering breath. She reached her hand to Skizenoh’s rigid fingers at her waist and tried to unclasp his hold. “I cannot allow you to sacrifice yourself for me.”

  “No. I will help you.”

  “You think to aid her in escape? Take her past me? Through these?” Tonkawa taunted, nodding his head at the gathering behind him. “Or here?” he mocked, pointing to the dark hole at their backs.

  Skizenoh flinched as though Tonkawa had touched on a secret.

  The older man cast him a jeering smile. “No one knows this way out. Some have tried, never to see the sun again. Hold her while you may. You can do nothing to preserve her life.” He turned on his heels.

  Molten fire bubbled up past fear’s cold grasp in Rebecca’s knotted gut. “May God damn you to hell for taking it, Tonkawa!” she hurled after him.

  He swiveled to face her, shock in his eyes. “You dare curse me?”

  “Would you have me beg for mercy you do not possess?”

  Scorn flowed back into Tonkawa’s hard gaze. “I would pity you more. Admire you less.”

  Skizenoh gripped her as she began to rise. “Then admire this. You are a greater bastard than Captain Bancroft.”

  The ice vanished from Tonkawa’s face in a flash of rage. “How dare you speak this? I could kill you now.”

  “What difference if it’s now or tomorrow? Only a coward takes the life of an innocent woman.”

  “Enough. You are mad.”

  “No. I am Peshewa. And I refuse to die without a fight.”

  He seemed as incredulous as he was angry. “You think to challenge me?”

  She twisted in Skizenoh’s arms. Had she a tail, she would have lashed it and bared her fangs, if she had them, with a primal snarl. Nothing could stop her enraged cry. “I’ll tear your throat out, you black-hearted swine!”

  Skizenoh breathed more heavily with the effort of holding her back. “Tonkawa will swiftly kill you.”

  “Better now, than awaiting my execution. He wants Shoka’s woman. Let him deal with me.”

  The hint of a smile glinted in Tonkawa’s eyes as he pounced on her words. “Now you say
you are his woman?”

  “And his wife. Give over, Skizenoh. Let me go.”

  “You cannot fight him.”

  Tonkawa raised his tomahawk, his lips curled in scorn. “What fight? One blow, she lies dead.”

  “I am unarmed, coward. Will you retain your weapons?”

  He tossed his tomahawk and knife aside and beckoned to her. “Come, Peshewa. Meet your end.”

  “Release me, Skizenoh. Save yourself.”

  “I will not let you face him alone.”

  “It’s not your fight.”

  “No! The fight is mine!” a familiar voice shouted from behind them. “But it is easier to shoot you, Tonkawa. Take one step, I fire. If anyone moves, you die first.”

  “Shoka!” Thrilled and bewildered, Rebecca stared into the shadowed opening. She couldn’t see his face, only the play of torchlight along the leveled barrel of his musket.

  Skizenoh was frozen in place. “How did he find his way?”

  “Skizenoh!” Shoka called. “I give you thanks for aiding my wife. Release her to me now.”

  Her defender’s arms fell away and Rebecca was free. She pecked a kiss against his cheek and looked up into his staring eyes. “God keep you.”

  “And you. Go.”

  She clambered to her feet and fled over the channels in the stone with Tonkawa’s furious stare following her every step. When she glanced around to be sure she wasn’t pursued, she slipped on a wet place and landed on her knees. Stifling a cry, she picked herself up from the rock floor and scrambled back into the yawning darkness where Shoka waited.

  “Any who gives chase, dies!” he shouted. Then, in a whisper, “Keep silent and stay near me, meh newah.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Shoka had never witnessed a more splendid display of female wrath than Rebecca’s astonishing challenge to Tonkawa. It was also indescribably reckless and had forced him to take action before he’d intended.

  The rumble of upraised voices sounded behind him, but he didn’t expect Tonkawa would dare to follow. At least, not immediately. They must make haste.

  “Come, Peshewa.”

  Musket in hand, he swung around and squeezed through the narrow opening in the cave wall. All-consuming blackness swallowed up the faint light from the larger cavern along with the strident voices. Moist rock pressed around and above him. The cold mineral essence filled his nose. He also detected a breeze on his cheek from the chamber up ahead. The furry tail of his faithful guide feathered across his leg.