The Treasure Hunter's Lady (25 page)

The group was laughing, some of the children doubled over with breathless giggles. The soft sound of her laughter spoke to his soul. They hadn’t hurt her and she was obviously free to wander around the camp. It lightened the worry weighing on his shoulders.

“Let me do another one,” she said. She hummed in concentration and tilted her head, caught in thought as she attempted to launch the rock from the sling. Then she stiffened and the sling swung by her side, allowing the rock to fall from its cradle. She turned and met his eyes, like she'd felt him watching. “Abel!”

Genuine happiness flooded her face. Her eyes were wide and her mouth stretched in a welcoming smile. She threw herself into his arms.

“Looks like you've got the tribe wrapped around your pinkie,” he mumbled at the top of her head.

“Just the children. They enjoy laughing at me. I'm a novelty to them with my accent and hair.” She looked him up and down. “My God, I thought that brute had killed you. And of course Hummingbird said I wasn't of any use fussing around the lodge, so she banished me outside. Oh, I'm so glad to see you.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his for a quick kiss. The children giggled again. Her face took on a rosy color and she lowered her eyes, but continued to smile.

Abel rested his forehead against hers, holding her tight against him. “You're sure you're all right?”

“Quite. They fed me and put some more of that stinking ointment on my knees, gave me these clothes and turned me out with the children. I swear, no one thinks I'm capable of doing anything useful.” She stroked his shoulders and made no move to pull away from him.

“White Elk wants to know what we're doing here.”

“Yes, I heard. I offered to explain it all, but the big, important chief won't speak to a woman. How interesting that their leaders are so like our own. I'm an empty-headed bit of fluff, suitable only for acting as a parlor decoration no matter where I go.” She sighed and took his hand, clutching it like she'd never turn him loose again.

“You can come with me. I don't plan to let you out of my sight for a while.” He hoped she didn't notice the way his hands shook, more from relief than anything else. He'd been certain they would kill him and make Romy a slave or a lesser wife. It couldn't be often that they came across redheads as breathtaking as her. He gave her hand a squeeze, grateful to be back at her side.

From what little he knew of the natives in this part of the world, they should have been living on one of the reservations. At the very least, a renegade band ought to be living in teepees, chasing after herd animals for food and shelter. Permanent lodges were seldom used out west. But on second thought, he wasn’t even sure what world they were in.

Romy led him through the small village like she'd grown up there. She stopped in front of a modest lodge and poked her head in. Over her shoulder, Abel saw five men sitting around a fire.

“I bring you Abel Courte—He Who Seeks.”

“I have a different name?” he muttered.

She rolled her eyes. “Fire-hair Woman? Don't complain. Go on.”

He entered with Romy on his heels. The men at the fire nodded to him. He sat and she followed, sitting slightly behind him, her knee against his hip. White Elk had washed the paint from his face, but it still clumped in his hair. One of the men on his right was the warrior Abel had hit.

Abel cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the unblinking eyes staring at him. “Good evening.”

No one spoke.

“I'm Abel Courte. He Who . . . .” Looking at the five seasoned and bemused men made his memory as holey as a fish net.

“Seeks,” Romy whispered.

“He Who Seeks. Referring to the one you all don't speak of. A serpent called Uktena.”

The men, craggy-faced and stern, tensed. The only sound was the crackle of the fire. Abel unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the tattoo, but the men kept their eyes averted.

“This is the mark of the Horned Serpent. A fang from its mouth was used to poison me. A bad man purchased this fang, a man who wants to use the Diamond to do more bad things. I want to stop that man. I want to use the Diamond to heal my uncle who was also poisoned, and myself. And also, we think Romy, uh, Fire-hair Woman's father, might be touched by the mark too.”

More silence. Yellow Knife didn't seem to want to translate his words. This was a waste of time. Abel sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Well, is someone gonna tell the chief, or should we just go?” he demanded.

“You will show proper respect to the council. We must discuss your release. You are not free to wander on sacred land.” The warrior who'd pushed him sneered. He turned to White Elk and spoke. Another brave jumped in. All the men leaned together.

Finally, they broke off. Abel stared at the only English-speaking warrior. “I am called Yellow Knife. White Elk says many braves have tried to kill the one we do not speak of. Why do you believe you will be the one to finish the Serpent?”

“Because I promised my uncle I would. I owe him my life.”

Yellow Knife relayed the words and White Elk nodded then said something else.

“The men who seek out the stone in the Serpent's head want to brag and tell stories of their greatness. White Elk believes you will do the same. The white men came and brought disease to our lands. They tried to conquer us. We believe you will tell of our secret camp and send the soldiers to find us.”

“Tell your chief that I didn't know your camp was here and I couldn't care less about it. We're all just tryin' to survive. I won't tell the army, won’t tell anyone, if that's what he's worried about. I'll give you my oath.”

He waited, impatient as Yellow Knife conversed with the chief. White Elk’s eyes burned into him, almost as though he could see straight into Abel.

“White Elk says he can see the truth in your eyes. But how will you kill the beast? The bones of those who have tried in the past rest at the bottom of the river.”

Romy's hand slipped onto his thigh.

“I don't know,” Abel admitted. “I guess I hope to shoot it.”

There was some more talk and a lot of animated hand gestures before they gave Yellow Knife the floor again. His eyes glowed in the firelight.

“That you have come this far gives White Elk a great interest in your burden, Abel Courte. Our people are descendants of the ancient tribe that raised Uktena from the water. Our chiefs used strong medicine to conceal us from the world and hide us from the white eyes and to hide Uktena from those he would harm. This world is not your world.”

Which confirmed Abel's suspicions. “But how'd we end up here?”

“The fang was found in your things. The Great Serpent calls what is his. It will always find a way back to him.” Yellow Knife's voice was grave. “Many years ago, one foolish brave sought Uktena's lair and the jewel in the Serpent's head. He found the Serpent slumbering. He could not remember that its heart lies in the seventh ring. Instead of piercing the life of Uktena, he drove his lance in the sixth ring. Uktena fought against the lance. He snapped at the brave so hard, his teeth cracked. Frightened, the brave snatched up the teeth for proof and ran.”

A wave of bitterness washed over Abel. This was how his family had come by the fangs. One arrogant warrior's mistake.

“When he arrived at the camp, his family had gone to join others on the Spirit Road. Mad with grief, he sold the fangs to white men.”

The general air in the lodge was heavy. Abel's mind went back to the auction slip in Christensen's desk. A little research would have led straight back to the Serpent and the legends surrounding it.

“You could find a way to slay Uktena, you could take the Diamond, but what good would it do to have it if your family dies?” Romy asked, her fingers tightening over his leg. “I'd almost rather Christensen did find it. Let him be the one to suffer. But he'll know all this and if he sends Papa after the snake, then the curse will fall on me.”

Her face had gone pasty white. Abel covered her hand with his.

“We know that he hasn't found it yet.”

There didn't seem to be any good solution to their problem.

“There must be a way to see him, to get him to surrender the Diamond without causing so much death. The ancient people who raised him didn't all die,” Romy reasoned. “You say there's magic protecting this encampment. There has to be some sort of chant or spell we can use to protect ourselves.”

Yellow Knife stared at her and Abel knew the council didn't care much for a woman's input. He spoke with White Elk, who shook his head, the long white braids sliding on his shoulders.

Five pairs of eyes gazed at them. Yellow Knife spoke with reluctance. “The council will not give away that kind of medicine. Not to white men.”

Before he could clarify that there actually was an enchantment to protect them, Romy shot to her feet, indignation blazing from her eyes.

“That's foolishness. Abel would never misuse your-your precious magic tricks. He's come so far, at great personal risk to find this snake that your ancient peoples raised to destroy the sun! If not for that ridiculousness and this warrior who failed to kill Uktena in the first place, poor Abel and his uncle wouldn't be dying. I'm sure your reasons are noble, but right now neither of us is interested in noble. We're going to kill this demon with or without your help!”

“Romy,” Abel hissed, jerking at her skirt.

There was absolute silence in the lodge.

The Indians turned to one another, conversing rapidly, their voices growing more and more agitated, their gestures coming faster and sharper.

“Oh, dear,” Romy whispered. “I always seem to turn the natives on their ears.”

The racket in the lodge grew. Abel took Romy's hand and pulled her back down beside him. “It'll be all right. They may not kill us yet.” He forced a smile. “At least you know they don't want you for a wife. Ain't no brave in this camp who would have you on account of that tongue of yours.”

“You're forever telling me I'm not marriageable. Someday I'll show you, when I have a handsome groom at my elbow.” She jerked her hand away from him. “Besides, someone has to stand up for you. And it's true. We're not leaving until we have that Diamond in our hands.”

Me. I want to be the one to stand at your side.
The words almost fell from his lips, but he caught himself. She was a hundred times as fierce as the entire village. Stubborn and proud, the antithesis of the women he'd wooed and flirted with in Texas. But the only one who'd captured his attention long enough to make him consider marriage. To make him wonder how he'd go on without her.

“What
are
you looking at?” she asked, staring down her nose at him. Her eyes darted toward the Indians, who'd fallen silent to watch their exchange.

Abel cupped her face, drawing her attention back to him. He wanted to tell her, even in the middle of a conversation that might well be the death of them. He couldn't think of a more suitable time to lay it all out on the table. “The future. I'm looking at our future.”

Her eyebrows rose so high they nearly touched her hairline. Her tongue passed across her lips. “But we haven't—we aren't—this is impossible.”

“Darlin', we're hunting a serpent with a rock in its forehead because of a curse from the beginning of time. This attraction between us ain't the strangest thing to happen by a long shot. And if we get out of this, I'm telling your daddy that his little arrangement with Christensen and Woefield is off. Because I'm not goin' back to Texas without you.”

She stared at him, apparently digesting his speech. Then she threw her arms around him, hugging his ribs so tight it was hard to breathe.

“Well, then. You'd better figure out a way to get them to give us their magic so we can go to Texas.”

Abel looked at the Indians over her shoulder. White Elk nodded in approval, a ghost of a smile on his leathery face. He didn't need Yellow Knife to translate their actions.

“Oh, I suppose I should let go and we can finish conducting this council,” she muttered, raising her hands to pat at her braid as though she remembered their audience at last.

White Elk spoke, his voice authoritative. One of the other Indians opened his mouth to interrupt, but White Elk hushed him with a glare. He directed his long dialogue at Abel and Romy. Yellow Knife waited a moment before he spoke.

“White Elk is amused by the spirit of your warrior woman. Our chief is known for his fairness and good judgment in all matters. It is up to him to ensure the Serpent never escapes this world. White Elk’s word is our law and if he gives the old secrets to you, then you both must obey his command to bring the Serpent's power to us. It must never fall to evil men.”

Romy's fingers wove through Abel's. He watched her face, the way her eyes widened in excitement. He'd never grow tired of seeing her face change.

“At first light,” Yellow Knife continued, “White Elk will perform the ceremony needed to raise the old spirits who have the medicine to destroy the serpent Uktena. Under protest from the other elders of the tribe, but they must give in to his will. This power will allow you to see the Serpent and keep your family from harm as it was in the days before Uktena turned from man.”

Romy turned worried eyes on Abel. He leaned forward, anxious to hear the rest.

“If you betray our tribe, or use the medicine for ill, neither of you will find happiness nor travel the Spirit Road, but spend eternity wandering the earth in misery.”

The finality of his words didn't leave any room for doubt. Abel looked straight at White Elk. “You have my promise.”

Romy nodded. “Mine as well.”

“The council has spoken.” Yellow Knife rose and nodded to his kinsmen. He was the first to leave the lodge, gesturing for Romy and Abel to follow. In the cool evening air, against a field of stars, he looked twice as formidable even without his weapons. “Hummingbird has prepared your bedding. Dawn will come on eagle's wings. I hope you are prepared for what is to come.”

Abel rolled his shoulders, wondering what the dawn would really bring. “I don't know how prepared anyone could be to face down a giant serpent. Guess we'll see how it goes. This ritual your chief is performing, it's still good after all this time?”