Through the Fire (The Native American Warrior Series) (29 page)

“Skizenoh, water, please,” she prompted.

“
Come.” He led her over the deep channels carved in the stone and held her steady when she slipped.

Tonkawa glared at her from where he sat near the campfire as they walked past him. His wrath pierced her back like needles, but her thirst overtook her fear and she strained toward the pool.

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?”