Tajarez watched, wanting to call her back. Once she entered the fort she was lost to him forever. All she asked of him in parting was his name. He was willing to sacrifice the rest of his life for his people, but he would break only one law, his vow of silence.
"Mara!"
Hearing her name, Mara turned around quickly and looked at him.
Walking slowly toward her, he draped the mink robe around her shoulder, then reached up and removed the golden armband from his arm and handed it to her.
Mara held the armband tightly in her hand. It was still warm from the heat of his body.
He touched her hair, then let his hand drift down to her cheek. "Mara," he spoke softly. "Tajarez."
Mara opened her mouth to speak, but he had already turned away and mounted his horse. With a heavy heart she watched him until he was out of sight, then she fell to her knees, clutching the golden armband. It was all she had left to remind her of the tall, handsome Indian who was riding out of her life as quickly as he had entered it. But now her love had a name. Her love was Tajarez.
THE SPANYARDS HAVE NOTICE OF SEVEN CITIES WHICH OLD MEN OF THE INDIANS SHOW THEM SHOULD LIE TOWARDS THE NORTH EAST FROM MEXICO. THEY HAVE USED AND USED DAILY MUCH DILIGENCE IN SEEKING OF THEM, BUT THEY CANNOT FIND ANY ONE OF THEM. THEY SAY THAT THE WITCHCRAFT OF THE INDIANS IS SUCH THAT WHEN THEY COME BY THESE TOWNES THEY CAST A MIST UPON THEM SO THAT THEY CANNOT SEE THEM.
—Henry Hawks, English merchant
5
Tajarez rode home at a killing pace. The speed with which he traveled was responsible for the death of his horse. It was not like him to mistreat his horses.
Discarding most of his belongings, he rode his packhorse the rest of the way home. Many times he wanted to turn his horse around and ride back to find Mara, but he kept pushing on, knowing she would be on her way to her home by now, and he did not know where to find her. Even if he could find her, he could not take her to his home.
The dreams had returned, and they were the same as before. He welcomed the dreams, because at least in his dreams he could hold on to her for a while. His heart grew heavier as he reached the mountains that surrounded the hidden valley of his home. He entered the cave, the only entrance to the Seven Cities. When he rode out the other side, he was saluted by one of the warriors who guarded the entrance against any intruders. Halting his horse, he let his eyes feast on the beauty that was his home.
The huge mountains looked almost blue in the late afternoon sunlight. A river snaked itself across the valley, lending its life-giving water to the residents of the cities.
Tajarez never tired of looking at the beauty of the valley. The largest of the Seven Cities rose majestically above the other, smaller ones. The six smaller cities were governed by lesser chiefs, who owed allegiance to his father, Hamez, king of all the Lagonda.
He urged his horse forward. Word had already reached the cities of his return, and the people were out in large numbers to welcome him home. He was very popular with his people, and had always been received with high regard and deep affection.
He saw many of the young maidens push to the front of the crowd, smiling and waving to him. His eyes moved over them absentmindedly. Seeing his father standing on the wide stone steps that led up to the palace, he dismounted and ran up the stairs to greet him.
Father and son clasped each other's arms, as was the custom. The two men looked very much alike, and it was easy to tell they were father and son. Hamez's hair was laced with gray, but he was tall and handsome, and every inch the king.
"Welcome home, my son. The days have been long since my eyes last rested on your face."
"It is good to be home, my father. The world outside does not compare with our valley."
Hamez clapped his son on the back. "Well said, my son. Come. You must be weary. While you dine and refresh yourself, you can tell me all about your journey." They climbed the steps together. Hamez studied his son's face. "There is something different about you, my son. A sadness, I think."
"We will talk of it later, my father." Tajarez wondered how he would be able to tell his father that he loved Mara, since he held the white race in such contempt. He would also have to tell him that he had broken his vow of silence, and his father would not be pleased with him.
There was a commotion in the crowd, and both men turned to see the people being pushed aside as Sagas the Wise made his way' to the palace. He had seen one hundred and twenty summers, but he moved with the agility of a much younger man and was not even out of breath from climbing the steep steps.
"Where is the Golden One? What have you done?" he said, facing Tajarez.
Father and son looked at each other in astonishment. "Of whom are you speaking?" Hamez asked.
Sagas looked at Hamez as if he had lost his senses. "The Golden One, of course, who did you think?" Sagas was the only one who could speak to the king in such a way and live. Hamez had once laughingly told Tajarez that when the time came, Sagas would question the Great Father himself.
Tajarez took Sagas fondly by the arm, leading him up the steps. "Is this all the greeting I get from you after being gone for so long?" ,
"You have made a grave mistake, Tajarez, and I do not know what the consequences will be." So saying, Sagas turned his back and entered the palace, leaving father and son to follow, looking at each other in puzzlement.
"We had better see what this is all about, my son."
With a final wave to the crowd, Tajarez entered the palace. Looking around the huge anteroom, he saw Sagas pacing the floor, his white robe flapping against his legs, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Sit, Sagas, and refresh yourself," Hamez said, clapping his hands to summon a servant.
Sagas gave him a disgusted look and continued his pacing.
Hamez shrugged his shoulders, and turned to the serving woman who answered his summons. "Bring food for my son," he told her.
She gave a big smile of welcome to her prince, and rushed to do the king's bidding.
The anteroom was bathed in light from the huge candles that were placed in golden wall sconces at different intervals along the wall. Large golden shields hung on the stone walls. The floor was made of polished stone, with huge handwoven rugs placed around the room. There was a raised dais at the end of the room, where the king conducted his business.
Tajarez and his father sat on soft white doeskin cushions and watched Sagas with a look of pure amazement on both of their faces. It was out of character for Sagas to become agitated about anything. His manner had always been calm, almost stoic. He was a very important man and was well respected by the Lagonda tribe. His powers were legendary. He was advisor to the king, who consulted with him on all important tribal business, but most of all he was a trusted friend, and now he was plainly upset about something. Both Tajarez and his father knew from long experience that it would do no good to press Sagas. He would tell them what was bothering him in his own good time.
Sagas turned to Tajarez at last and pointed an accusing finger at him. "You have gone against the prophecy. You were supposed to bring the Golden One back with you. Why did you not?"
Tajarez rose to his feet and placed his hand on Sagas's shoulder, and looked into the wrinkled face that proclaimed his vast age. The dark eyes that stared back at him accusingly were alert and full of life.
"I seem to have displeased you in some way, Sagas, but I do not understand what you are accusing me of."
Sagas shrugged Tajarez's hand away from his shoulder and turned to Hamez. "Your son has gone against the prophecy, and I charge you with the fault," he shouted.
Hamez seemed undaunted by the accusation or the tone of voice. There was not a man, not even his own son, who would dare to speak to him in such a manner. That was an honor that was afforded to Sagas alone.
"Sit down, my old friend, and tell me what I am guilty of. Neither my son nor myself know of what you speak."
Sagas's shoulders drooped as he sank down heavily on the soft cushio
n. "Forgive me, my king, if I spoke out of turn. I am an old man, and have waited long to see the prophecy fulfilled. As you know, it was foretold many hundreds of years ago. I have not many years left. I do not want to go to my forefathers without first seeing the Golden One." Sagas's eyes glazed over and he seemed to grow older before their eyes. "I am too old already and have lived too many years," he said wearily.
"You are my best friend and advisor. It would be difficult for me to rule without you to guide me."
The serving girl brought food and drink and placed them before Tajarez. Hamez dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
Tajarez ignored the food but took a drink of the refreshing honeyed nectar. "Tell me, Sagas, why you think I am at fault for the Golden One's not being here."
Sagas fastened his eyes on the young prince, whom he loved like a son. "Did you not meet the Golden One while you were on your journey?"
Tajarez had always tried to envision what the Golden One would look like. He had pictured him dressed all in gold with a voice that boomed like the thunder. He shook his head. "I did not meet him. If I had, do you not think I would have known?"
Sagas stood up abruptly. "Him! The Golden One is not a man!
Tajarez felt his heart contract. Hamez watched as the color drained from his son's face. "I thought that . . ."
Sagas smiled. "You know who it is, do you not, my prince?”
Tajarez looked at Sagas in confusion. "I never thought ... it did not occur to me that the Golden One was female. Yet all the signs were there. Her hair was as spun gold."
Hamez looked from one man to the other. "You are both talking in riddles and make no sense to me."
Sagas grabbed Tajarez by the shoulders. "Did it not occur to you? Did you not suspect who she was? Did she not tell you her name was Golden?"
"No . . . her name was Mara."
"Yes," Sagas said impatiently. "Mara Golden."
Tajarez felt pain in his heart as he stared at the old man. What a fool he had been. It had been right before him all the time and he had been too blind to see it. His dreams of her years before he ever met her. Her golden hair. His feelings for her. She had even begged him to take her away with him. He felt fear gnaw at his insides. She was lost to him; he would never find her now, and even if he did, it might be too late.
'Tajarez, will you tell me what this is all about? I have followed nothing of what you have said," Hamez told him.
Tajarez told his father everything, starting with his slaying the two Indians and ending when he left Mara at the fort. Sagas nodded his head as if he was confirming what Tajarez was saying.
Then Tajarez told his father about the dreams he had been having for years, and of the love he felt for Mara. "She is very beautiful, my father. She is brave and gentle, and I love her more than my own life."
Hamez leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his hands. "A white woman! I will not have a white woman as the mother of the future kings of the Lagonda."
Tajarez turned to Sagas. "Is it written that I will marry her?"
The old man shook his head. "That is not for me to say. I only know you were to bring her back with you. I do not know what will happen now. She may be lost to us forever. You must go and search for her and bring her here." His voice rose in excitement. "So much time lost, so much time lost."
"No!" Hamez said, rising to his feet. "I have sworn that no white man will set foot in the Seven Cities. I will not allow it."
"It is not for you to say, Hamez," Sagas told him. "It is written in the stars, and no man can go against the prophecy."
"It would appear that my son has," Hamez said with authority.
"Your son loves her. He will never love another. Does that mean nothing to you?"
"Is your love so great for this maiden, my son?"
"My father, I love her with every beat of my heart. To leave her was to tear my heart from my body."
"Yet he left her because of his love for you and the promise he made to you when he was a boy," Sagas accused.
"But you have known her for such a short time, my son," Hamez said.
Tajarez looked at Sagas, and the old man smiled. "Not so, my king. He has known her a very long time."
Hamez looked at Tajarez wearily. "I had always envisioned you married to one of our own." He shook his head sadly. "Light-skinned grandchildren, a half-white king upon the throne of the Seven Cities. Maybe I also have lived too long, Sagas."
"I do not know that she will marry your son. I do not even know if she can be found. I have seen no more visions of her. The future is unclear."
Hamez was quiet for a long time. Tajarez and Sagas both waited for him to speak. Staring into space, at last he said: "There is much preparation to be done if you are to find her. I am confident that you will succeed."
Tajarez reached for the golden plate that held his food. Suddenly he was hungry, and his heart felt lighter. "I will find her, my father. I must."
The Indian maiden, Sasha, walked toward the huge white doeskin tent that belonged to her cousin, the prince Tajarez. Her heart was overflowing with happiness at the great honor that had been bestowed upon her. Her long black hair was braided into two braids that fell down her back to her waist. She was small and graceful, with fawn-colored eyes. She had been chosen to serve as handmaiden to the Golden One if the prince was successful in finding her.
Word had spread throughout the Seven Cities that the Golden One had been seen by the prince, and an envoy would be sent out to locate her and bring her to the Seven Cities. It was like a miracle. The Lagonda tribe had talked of little else since they found out the old prophecy was about to be fulfilled.
Warriors had volunteered in large numbers to go along on the journey, but only fifty of the finest had been chosen, and three women—Sasha, Maga, who would continue to help Sasha with her English, and Tanka, a woman who was friend to the prince.
Sasha had never dared hope she would be one of the maidens chosen to accompany the prince. She had always held her handsome cousin in great awe. When he sent word that he wanted to see her at the palace, she was full of apprehension, until he told her she had been selected to go on the journey, and she was the one chosen to serve the Golden One once she was located.
Sasha was the envy of all the other maidens, and they looked on her with new respect. Tajarez had told her she must spend much time learning the white man's tongue, which he called English, so she could converse with the Golden One. Her tutelage was under Maga, the old woman who spoke not only the white man's English, but many different Indian dialects as well. In the weeks that had preceded the quest, Sasha had spent every waking hour with Maga. She was eager to learn and was soon speaking the language, if not perfectly, at least understandably. The prince had commanded her to speak only in English while in his presence, thus making her better-versed in the language.
Sasha had been more than anxious to begin the trip. She half feared that something would come up at the last moment to prevent her from going. When at last the day arrived, she could hardly contain her excitement. The people were lining the roadway to see them off. There had been a great fanfare and much rejoicing.
Sasha was the youngest member of the tribe to be going with Tajarez. The prince had told her that she was about the same age as the Golden One and that was one of the reasons she had been chosen to go along.
Sasha tried to picture what the Golden One would look like. Was her skin golden? She knew that she must be very beautiful. She had seen the prince with the faraway look in his eyes when she knew he was thinking of the Golden One, who he called Mara.
"Hold up, Sasha. Where do you go in such a hurry?"
She stopped as Palomas called to her, Palomas had been chosen by the king as protector of the Golden One. He was tall and very strong. He was of one and twenty summers. Not a handsome man, his nose was crooked from being broken in battle when he was younger. His strength and courage had won him the title Protector of the Golden One.
Sash
a had heard of the ceremony he had gone through to hold that title. It was said that his manhood had been taken from him. Sasha wondered what that meant.
"How is it that you are up so early, Sasha?"
"The prince sent for me."
Palomas shook his head. "See if you can comfort him, little Sasha. He has a great sadness in his heart. He fears we have failed in our quest."
"Palomas, we must not let him lose heart. I cannot think that the Great Father would let our prince see the Golden One only to have her taken from him."
"You must tell this to him, for when you speak thus you make even me believe it."
"Pray that it is so, Palomas. I think he would be very sad if he does not find her."
Palomas watched as Sasha paused at the entrance of the tent. He did not feel in his heart that they would ever find the Golden One. They had nothing to go on except her name, and the white man's world was vast and covered much land.
Sasha entered the tent to find Tajarez sitting on a white robe, talking to her brother Anias. Her brother was best friend to Tajarez. They had grown up together and bad achieved manhood at the same time. They looked a bit alike, which was not unusual for cousins of the same blood. Sasha and Anias were children of Hamez's younger brother. Their father was chief of one of the lesser cities, and was devoted to his older brother, as Anias was to Tajarez.
"Sit, Sasha," Tajarez told her.
She lowered her head and sat down beside her brother and waited for Tajarez to speak.
"Word has reached me that all is not well between you and Tanka."
Sasha looked up quickly. "Who says this, my prince?"
"Speak English," he scolded her lightly.
"I am sorry, my prince," she said in stumbling English. "Tanka told you we quarreled?"
"Let us just say that I have been told that the two of you do not have any love for one another."
Sasha lowered her head, feeling great shame that the prince was displeased with her. It was true she and Tanka did not like each other. Tanka was a beautiful woman who had come along to serve the prince, and Sasha knew she was more than a servant to Tajarez. Sasha also knew her to be cold and calculating. Tanka watched the prince with the look of a predatory cat about to spring. She resented Sasha because she was so much in the prince’s company. She said spiteful things to Sasha, who usually managed to ignore her, but last night she had gone too far, and they had quarreled.
Savage Desire (Savage Lagonda 1) Page 7
