His eyes were familiar, yet watchful and cold. He gripped her arm with a speed that left her dazed and tugged her forward. She felt the cold rasp of his tongue as it touched the side of her face and bile rose to clog her throat.
“Do you know who I am?” Ni’zin words were confirmed when Denoa turned her head away without speaking. She knew him. She remembered him, just as he remembered her.
“You are the reason that I am not the leader of a great village unlike any that has risen or fallen since the time when my father lived.”
Ni’zin felt the desire to possess Denoa swell and he recognized the gift given to him by his gods. He had followed their command, their glory would be known throughout the land under his dominion. Soon, all would know.
The three men with him dismounted and cheered him on as he swung onto the back of his horse. “Bring the woman to me.”
Denoa put up little resistance as she was lifted up to Ni’zin. She was not surprised when he swiftly tied her hands together and then urged his horse forward. She would need to trot behind the animal or risk being dragged along.
The other men watched as their leader carried off his prize. Denoa tried to pace herself but when Ni’zin finally stopped his horse, she was out of breath and sweating. If he wanted to make certain that there would be little fight left in her, then he had succeeded.
She raised her chin as he easily dismounted and stood before her with a smile upon his lips. The black paint that covered one side of his face was fitting. Darkness had long since rotted out his soul.
Denoa was aware that he planned to rape her. Her bound hands prevented her from fighting. She had learned how to defend herself over the seasons, but her strength had never been tested until now.
He grabbed hold of her hands without speaking and then he bore her to the ground. Denoa looked around wildly, seeking help, but there was no one to help her, no one to save her. She felt Ni’zin’s cruel hands upon her body and she shuddered in disgust. He ripped her doeskin dress open and let his eyes feast upon her body.
“I will enjoy this. You should have been lying on your back before me long before now.” Ni’zin grabbed her roughly, drawing an unwilling gasp of pain from her lips even as Denoa’s mind spun.
“You were a boy when I knew you.” She spoke through teeth that were clenched together, she was held fast between a place of mind-numbing fear and blinding anger.
“I was more man than boy but you could not see it, you had eyes only for my brother.” Ni’zin pinched Denoa’s breasts hard, causing tears to come to her eyes.
She blinked furiously as he fought to free his manhood and claim her. Denoa had no strength left in her legs as he straddled her body, pinning her to the ground. She had nothing left to fight with and she knew that she could not simply rest beneath him while he violated her. “How many women have you dishonored with your quest for power?”
It was the wrong question to ask. Ni’zin felt no shame over his actions. The memories of his past conquests only strengthened his desire to possess the one woman that had escaped his grasp. “Why is it that you do not fight me?”
Denoa’s silence confused him, he was used to resistance, and it gave strength to his manhood and ignited his lust. Ni’zin slapped Denoa once and then again and still, she simply stared up at him with dark, knowing eyes.
“I see that you are still a boy pretending to walk as a man. You are weak, ill-equipped to mate with a woman. You are powerless.” Denoa spoke bravely as she stared into Ni’zin’s glittering eyes.
Ni’zin’s fury mounted over her words but it was not enough to stir his manhood. He needed her to fight him; he wanted her to fight him. Ni’zin lifted his hunting knife and cut the ties that bound her hands. Her wrists fell slack within his punishing grasp. “Fight me!”
Ni’zin slapped Denoa with the back of his hand but his actions were restrained. He wanted her awake and watchful. “I will make you forget that my brother ever lived.”
It was then that Denoa knew the power that she held over Ni’zin. He could not force his body to respond to her as a man responds to a woman. He could not work up the lust needed to violate her unless she fought back.
She looked upon his manhood, which he clasped in one hand as his knees forced her thighs apart. As long as she did not fight him, he would still try to dishonor her. With no other recourse, Denoa did the only thing that she thought might stop him from accomplishing his goal. She laughed.
Her laughter was rich and open and in her mind, she was with Shale inside of their dwelling, laughing for the simple joy of it. From a distance, she heard Ni’zin shout at her to cease laughing and she felt his fist connect with her jaw. Ni’zin roared with fury as blood spewed from Denoa’s mouth and still she continued to laugh. Hot fury caused him to lose control as he pounded his fist once more against her jaw.
White-hot light seared Denoa’s eyes and then blessed peace swept over her.
Tamol opened his eyes to see one of the raiders riding off with Denoa thrown over the back of his horse. He felt bile rise into his throat at the thought of the harm that the raider would cause Denoa.
Men held him down, pinning him to the ground but Tamol continued to fight. His efforts were in vain. He knew it, the men holding him knew it, but still he fought. He could not live with himself if the man dishonored Denoa and then dragged her back to share her with the other men.
“Where is the one that the others call Cloud Bringing Woman?” One of the warriors that held Tamol drew back his head and pressed a knife to his right eye.
Tamol remained silent. When the tip of the man’s knife pierced the tender skin under his eye, Tamol braced himself.
“Do not blind him. We are to watch over him and wait. If you blind him, it will be on your hands.” One of the men interjected just as the warrior prepared to press his blade in and take away Tamol’s sight.
The warrior grunted with anger but he slowly removed his knife. Tamol’s arms and hands were behind his back and he lay flat upon his stomach. One of the warriors stepped upon his wounded thigh and still he did not cry out. He had expected as much from the men if not worse. They were eager to prove their value.
“What do your leaders want with the girl?” Tamol paid for his question with another blow to his injured thigh.
“Why not tell him, he will die soon anyway.” The warrior that had stopped the other man from blinding Tamol studied him as Tamol rolled to his side and sat.
“Our leaders seek power. They have already raided across the canyons and low lands, soon they will overtake the mesas. Men travel from far and wide to join with our band. Each season we grow in strength and might.”
“What of the woman?” Tamol expected a blow but the warrior that spoke to him enjoyed the position of authority that he had taken. It was obvious that he was one favored by his brother.
“Cloud Bringing Woman? A woman that can bring the rain with the call of her flute? Traders told us about her long ago. They traded everything they had and then forfeit their lives.” The men laughed amongst themselves as they spoke of the death of innocent men as if it held little meaning.
“What god do you men worship?” Tamol thought furiously as he tried to keep the raiders talking. He could hear nothing over the steady flow of water but he knew that Amara was near. His instincts had not led him astray.
“We worship the sun and the celestial bodies. It is from this source that we draw our strength.” The man laughed cruelly as one of the other men slipped in to stomp his foot upon Tamol’s back. Tamol rolled with the blow, but the men held him still.
“You could have continued to stand aside, now you have marked yourself as our enemy. What great band of men do you lead? They are not here with you now, are they?” The warrior waved his hand around to show the evident lack of support for Tamol. When Tamol asked again about the man that had taken Denoa the raiders sneered at him with disdain. “He will take what all women have to give and then he will return and end your life.”
&nbs
p; Tamol saw the blow coming, but he was not quick enough to avoid it. The warrior had not taken his eyes, but his well aimed fist caused it to swell shut as blood trickled down the side of his face. “If you do not die today, perhaps I will allow you to serve me for a time, as a slave.”
The others laughed and one of the men called out that the raider that led them had been spotted. Tamol felt little pain as he looked past the men that stood before him and took in the sight of the man riding toward them. Fresh blood seeped from his clenched fists and the back of his horse was empty.
“Look, what do I see? A man that does not know he is already dead.” The raider with the painted face smiled cruelly and then he turned to his men. “Take this one back to our dwelling place and hold him until I return. The rest of you come with me to the village of those that harvest their food from the land. Whoever kills the most men will be given first choice of the women. Are you with me?” The men shouted as one and galloped after the man that led them.
“Where are Kaichen and his friend? Where are the men that the others took after the hunt?” Tamol stared after the raider as he spoke to the man that had remained with him.
“They are dead men, just as you are.” Tamol looked up in time to see a fist coming toward his face. The warrior that had bloodied his right eye struck him in the jaw as hard as he could. The first blow brought a grunt of pain from Tamol and the second blow laid him out flat.
Chapter Twenty-One
From the top of the ledge, Amara looked down in despair. Denoa had been dragged away and the leader of the raiders had returned without her. His hands had appeared bloody even from this distance. The blood on the man’s hands brought her thoughts back to Kaichen’s mother. Denoa.
She caught the sound of a few words as they drifted up to her. It could not be! The man below said that Kaichen and Antuk were dead and soon Tamol would be too.
Grief speared through Amara’s heart. Kaichen could not be dead. Antuk could not be dead. Denial warred with the grief inside of her heart.
She blinked to clear the gray haze from her vision. Suddenly the desire for water came back to her and Amara trembled. She needed to get down from the ledge. She had made a mistake that could have been prevented if she had only listened to what Kaichen had tried to teach her.
“Always escape as soon as possible, never wait.” It was the day before they reached his mother’s village and Amara road behind Kaichen.
She was tired to her bones and swayed with each step of the horse. No matter how much food Kaichen and Antuk forced upon her she did not feel full.
The small amount of weight that she had on her continued to decrease. Much of the land was in a constant state of drought, whereas other areas were flooded. There was no balance.
“Are you listening, Amara?” Kaichen’s voice was the sound of the warm season as it blew over her. Amara had begun to doze off and she was instantly alert as Kaichen gently shook her. “Do you need to rest?”
“No.” Amara croaked as Kaichen pressed a waterskin toward her. It was the last of their fresh water. It should be saved until the last possible moment. “Please continue.”
“If a person waits until they are too weak to move, it might be too late to escape. Always escape whatever situation faces you when your strength is at its highest point. Will you remember this lesson?” Kaichen’s voice was somber as he considered the dangers that could befall Amara without his protective presence.
“Yes, Kaichen, I will remember.” Antuk answered as Amara smiled and held back her laughter. A deep chuckle rumbled through Kaichen’s chest, Amara felt it ripple beneath the flesh of her back as it rested against Kaichen’s chest and then he was gone.
“I will walk for now and we will let the horse rest. Hold tight.” Kaichen’s voice was gone just as quickly as it had come to her and Amara was still alone on the ledge overlooking the river below.
The water was lower than it had been for the past two days. She could not jump and she could not see any handholds to use to climb down. She had missed her chance to escape. She knew now what she had not been ready to face two days ago. She should have jumped into the swollen river and taken her chances. Now she would die without water upon a ledge high above the ground.
“No!” Amara shouted the word but there was no one around to hear her. “I will not die. I will not!”
The blue sky above her was clear. There was not a hint of rain or a cloud to be seen. Far in the distance, Amara made out a speck of dust in the air. If it did not rain, she would surely die, she could not last another day and night without water.
“I wish that I was Cloud Bringing Woman. I wish that I was blessed amongst all women and that I could truly bring the rain. Yet, I know who I am and my name is Amara. Our band does not have a name, we are simply the people that dwell beside the small river that does not dry up.” Amara knew that Kaichen had given her a gift. Whether he was truly dead or not was too terrible for her to comprehend so she did not dwell upon it. “I have the will to survive. No one can ever take that from me.”
Amara recognized the difference that Kaichen had made within her spirit. When she had faced death before she had feared it, now she did not know fear, she knew only bitter disappointment. There was more to life than she had known so far and she wanted to experience it. Her fingers grazed over a small rock and without thinking, she placed it upon her tongue. Moisture flooded her mouth and she sighed over the pleasant feeling. Kaichen had given her a round stone to ease the dryness of her mouth once before. Why had she forgotten that until now?
“I will never again play my death song.” Amara knew that there had been a time when she would have welcomed death, now she fought against it with every fiber of her being.
“If I am truly Cloud Bringing Woman, then hear my song and heed its call!” Amara pressed her flute to her lips as her hands stroked over the cherished wood. She knew every note by heart and with little effort, she called the song forth from the flute.
Pele walked on feet that were tired. The other men grumbled but he kept after them to hurry. It was only by instinct alone that he flattened to the ground and listened. The sound of hoof beats could be heard. “Take cover!”
He was smart enough to know that it was not buffalo running toward him but horses. Pele had never seen the wild horses that ran free in the high mountain areas. If horses ran toward them now then it was because they were driven forward by men upon their backs. He and his men easily blended in with the ground around them. They were covered in mud from the land as was their way. Even their dark hair was coated in the colors of the ground. Pele closed his eyes as the men on horseback rode past without taking note of their presence.
“They ride toward Kaichen’s village.” One of the men spoke up with worry in his voice. The men that walked with Pele were hunters, they did not often eat the food that some of their women called forth from the land. Nor did they care to understand how Kaichen’s people had been able to do so and survive.
“We cannot help them.” Pele motioned his men forward. Early on they had decided to seek out Tamol. He had not returned with them and Pele was nervous. Tamol always returned.
When they found his sign upon the ground, long cold, they were certain that he wanted them to follow after him. Pele guessed that they were close. Their leader continued to lay down markings that were obvious to his men, but indistinguishable to others.
Pele had recovered from the beating doled out by Kaichen and at first he wanted to pound the other man into the ground. Kaichen had not humiliated him when he could have and it was for this reason that Pele felt a measure of respect for the other man. It was Pele that his father had to restrain while the others simply watched as Kaichen was knocked senseless and taken away,
His father had lost face before his men that day and Pele thought that Tamol understood what the others would not say aloud. If Tamol was not loyal to Kaichen, a man that had risked his life to save them, then why then should they trust Tamol as their leader?
/> Whether Kaichen meant to do so or not, he had managed to shake the foundations of their world.
Pele was not a fool; their way of life was changing with or without them. He felt a moment’s pang for the men and women of Kaichen’s village who would fall under the raider’s onslaught. However, his loyalty was not to them. Tamol was his father and his loyalty remained with him.
Amara swayed as struggled to maintain her balance on the small ledge. She was weary and lethargic and if she was not careful she knew that she could fall to her death.
Death stalked her, even in this high place. Defiantly, Amara looked to the heavens and prayed for rain. She could survive three days without food but not without water.
It was the hottest part of the day and there was no place to hide from the sun. She turned her back to the sun, using her hair as a shield and she continued to play. This time when exhaustion caused her to slump she almost fell off the ledge that held her prisoner and kept her safe in return.
The sky was blue overhead but off in the distance there was one meager cloud. The cloud drew closer, buoying Amara’s strength and her hope.
She thought of Kaichen. He did not claim to be the Sundancer that his people believed in. He did not worship the sun nor did he claim to have special power.
However, Amara had witnessed the beauty of his dance, in her mind it had been the same dance that his father had performed long ago. She believed that Kaichen was especially blessed and capable of bringing peace to his village. The only problem was that Kaichen did not believe as she did.
“Some men are especially blessed, they walk with power and they do not even know it.” Denoa’s words came to Amara unbidden.
Kaichen’s mother believed that her son walked with power even if he did not. Believing in something that gave you strength was a good thing, Amara could see that now.
Antuk believed that she was Cloud Bringing Woman. What difference was there between her and that first woman who had been so aptly named? Perhaps the only difference was Amara’s failure to fully believe. If she did not believe then she would surely die.
The Last Sundancer Page 27
