Savage Splendor (Savage Lagonda 2) (26 page)

After he had finished with her he shoved her away from him. "Do not think you can ever keep me from taking what I desire, Mara. I can have you any time I want."

Mara was humiliated by the thing he had just done to her body and the words he had spoken. She was nothing to him but a body, someone he could use until he was with his queen again. She turned her head away so he would not see the tears that scalded her eyes. She would never submit to him willingly again, she told herself. He might take her body, but never again would he reach her heart, and never again would she let his lovemaking render her mindless. All she would have to do when he came near her in the future was remember the cruel words he had spoken to her tonight, and it would be the shield she needed to save herself from him.

She was beginning to realize that behind her outer facade was a strong-willed person. He might have more outward strength than she, but he would be no match for her inner self. If it was possible, she would leave and seek Jake and Zeke. They would take her and little Andrew back, but she had no idea where to find her two friends, and with Andrew to think about, she could not afford to be irrational. Perhaps she could ask her brother to take her away. She was so deep in thought that she did not hear Tajarez leave.

Sitting up clutching the robe about her, she noticed she was alone except for Andrew, and he was sleeping. She slipped her nightgown over her head and lay down once more, to ponder her future. She could tell Jeffery that Tajarez had made love to her, and perhaps he would help her. But what could she say to him? "Jeffery, your king made love to me and I welcomed it?" She began to feel hatred for the man who had used her for his own pleasure while he claimed to love the woman who was his wife. Mara no longer envied the queen. She had a faithless husband in Tajarez. How many other women had he made tremble at his touch while professing to love his wife?

Her sleep was troubled, and she dreamed that Tajarez was taking her body against her will and afterwards he mocked her.

The next morning she found her Indian gown and moccasins and dressed herself in them. She braided her hair in one single plait that hung down her back to her waist. Then she woke Andrew, fed him and dressed him warmly, and left the tent in search for her brother.

Her mind was made up. She would ask him to take her back to Jake and Zeke. She would beg him if she had to. She found her brother shaving a day's growth of beard from his face, something that the Indians did not have to contend with since they had no facial hair. Jeffery watched her approach through the mirror he had hung from the branch of a tree.

"Good morning, little sister. I am glad to see you wearing the Indian garb. It is much more sensible than the gowns you have been wearing."

"Jeffery, I want to talk to you," she said, not knowing quite how to broach the subject of her leaving.

He wiped his face on a cloth and turned to her. "You have about five minutes before we have to leave.

"That is what I want to talk to you about. I do not want to go with you to this city."

He placed his razor back in its brown leather case and placed it in his satchel. "I was wondering when you would get around to that," he said, unruffled by her announcement.

"Would you consent to taking me back to Jake and Zeke?" she said, her hopes rising.

"What would you do stuck in an obscure cabin in the wilderness with no one for company but two grizzly old trappers?"

"They are like family to me. In fact, I know them far better than I do you, who are my own brother. I want you to take me and little Andrew where we will be safe. Please, if you love me, do this for me," she said clutching at his arm. "I do not belong with you and your Indian friends. I felt safe only when I was with Jake and Zeke."

"What has happened to make you feel unsafe? I can assure you each man you see here would give his life to protect you. What could be safer than that?"

She wanted to tell him that what she feared was the man he called his king. She was frightened of what he might turn her into with his dark eyes that drew her to him like a magnet and his lips that could make her surrender all of her principles and cause her to sacrifice all she felt was right and decent. But she could not tell him this.

"You said I had been on my way to visit our brother David when Jake and Zeke found me. Could you not take me to St. Louis, where you said he lives?" she said, clutching at straws.

He could see how distressed she was, and he did not want to tell her that Tajarez would never allow her to leave.

"I could talk to Tajarez and see if he would allow you to visit David perhaps next spring," he said, trying to put her off. If she would only remember who she was, she would not want to leave.

Mara's eyes narrowed, and he had been on the receiving end of her temper far too often not to recognize her anger now.

"I am not one of your mighty king's subjects! I am not governed by his laws, as you seem to be. I can leave any time I please, and not you, he, or anyone else can stop me!"

"Mara, be reasonable. I cannot take you back. It is impossible at this time," he said, hoping he could make her see reason.

"Very well, if you will not help me, I shall just go by myself."

"You are being childish now, Mara. You know as well as I do that you could not survive past the first day in the wilderness. Besides, what about Andrew? What would become of him should you lose your way? There are wild animals, hostile Indians, and the weather that would all be against you."

"You are a coward. I am ashamed to call you my brother. I believe you are frightened of this man, this king, whom I detest."

Mara did not hear Tajarez come up behind her. Jeffery tried to warn her with a glance, but she misread him and continued. "Yes, I can see the fear on your face. This king is only a man, not some god who seems to rule you and his warriors with some strange power. I hate him and I do not like you very well, either," she raged.

"Hate is a very powerful emotion, Mara," a deep voice said behind her. She spun around to face Tajarez, not in the least sorry he had overheard her.

"You can add sneaking up on people to listen to private conversations to your other sins, oh mighty king. I believe an eavesdropper never hears anything good said about himself."

Tajarez stared at her blankly for a moment, then he looked past her to Jeffery. "Had you not better get the men together? We are already late starting out."

Jeffery nodded and took Mara's hand, but she pulled away from him, her angry eyes defying him to say anything more to her. He shrugged his shoulders and walked away from her.

"Should you not mount your horse, Mara? I do not like being held up by a woman's temper tantrums."

"I know what you can do, Tajarez. You can go right straight to the devil."

"Ah, but the devil is a white man's demon. He would not be interested in a mere Indian."

"I think you are wrong. I would suggest you are his disciple."

"If that is the truth, then, should you not fear me? Perhaps I seek your soul."

Her eyes went to the golden cobra that spanned his upper arm. "Do you know what the cobra the pharaohs of ancient Egypt wore represented?" she asked, not knowing where her knowledge came from. "It meant they had the power of vengeance, a grim reminder to anyone who disobeyed them that punishment could be swift and deadly. Do you practice that?"

He looked at her, astounded for the moment. "You never told me that before now. ..."

"Was there ever any reason for me to? Did I have your ear in the past?" she said testily.

"I do not wish to continue this conversation. Either you get on that horse, or I will forcibly put you on it."

"I will do it, but I want to warn you. The first chance that presents itself, I will get away from you. It will be impossible for you to watch me all the time. Once you let your guard down, I shall be gone."

Before she knew what he was doing, he took Andrew from her arms.

"In that case, I will see that you are not left alone with the baby. Knowing you as I do, I know you might try to leave, but you would not go without Andrew."

"If you know me as well as you say you do, tell me what I am that would have made me behave as I have. What kind of woman am I that I would allow you to touch me, and to have another man's child without benefit of marriage?" The anger seemed to drain out of her as she waited for him to tell her the answers that eluded her.

"It would not be a fair assessment were I to tell you what you seek to know. I confess to being blinded in the way I see you. I cannot help you open your past, Mara. You are alone in a hell you did not create. If it were possible I would walk in your aloneness with you and point out the way." He motioned for Palomas to come to him, and when the tall craggy-faced Indian approached, he handed Andrew to him.

"She is not to be left alone with the baby, under any circumstances. See to him," Tajarez ordered.

Palomas's dark eyes went from Tajarez to Mara, assessing the situation with a clarity that would have surprised Mara had she known of it.

Mara wanted to protest, but now was not the time. It would serve no purpose to make a scene before everyone. Her mind rejected the fact that Tajarez seemed to view her as someone who was subservient to his wishes. He would find out different, she thought, as she mounted her horse in mock submission. She would bide her time until she was alone with the king of the Lagonda tribe, then she would tell him she would not tolerate his high-handed treatment of her.

20

I saw the sadness in his dark eyes.

A sadness that he did not try to disguise.

It snowed most of the day, and the temperature dropped to below freezing. The snow made a crunching sound beneath the horses' hooves. The weary travelers plodded onward, always moving in a westerly direction.

Mara was glad when they made camp for the night. Andrew had been changed and fed, and Mara held him gently in her arms, loving the feel of his warm little body. He gave her a bright smile, and she kissed his soft cheek.

Palomas had carried out Tajarez's orders, and Mara was never allowed to be alone with her son except when she was in the tent at night. The only time she was allowed to hold him in the daytime was to feed him, and then Palomas was always near by, with his back discreetly turned to her. Sometimes she would see Palomas looking at her with what looked like sympathy, but she could not be sure.

She watched as Andrew drifted off to sleep. She was like a wild filly chafing at the bit as she paced the length of the tent and back again. Laying Andrew down and pulling the covers around him, she thought that if she did not get away from Tajarez she would lose her mind. She was so angry with him for the way he tried to run her life. He was not her king. She owed him nothing.

She pushed the tent flap aside and felt the cold wind blast her in the face with its icy fingers. Seeing that the Indian Matio was stationed just in front of her tent, her anger rose to a new height. Tajarez would do well not to trust her, she thought, for should he be lax and let his guard down, she would find some way to take Andrew and escape.

She jerked the flap together and continued her pacing. She hoped Tajarez would come, and she was almost certain he would. She had a few choice words to say to him. She expected him to come so he could gloat over the fact that she was little more than his prisoner.

When Tajarez did come, it was with his usual silence that gave her no warning so she could prepare herself. A blast of cold air was the only thing that warned her of his presence.

Mara whirled around to face him and watched as he dropped his fur-lined wrap onto the robe and looked at her with melting ebony eyes.

"Surely you do not intend to stay here with me. I told you I would never allow you to touch me again," she said angrily. Her ire was boundless as he looked past her to the sleeping infant and dropped to his knees, regarding her discomfort with a smile playing on his lips.

"It  would  be  too  much  to  hope  you  would welcome me into your . . . bed as you did before, but nonetheless you will suffer my presence. After the threat you made today, did you think I would not come?"

"Oh, I knew you would come." Mara sank down on the fur robe and clutched her nightgown tightly across her heaving breasts. "Does my brother think so little of my virtue that he would allow you to come here in broad daylight, so all the camp will know you are spending the night with me? If you are worried that I will flee into the night you could always order Jeffery to share my tent. It would be far more appropriate. He seems only too willing to carry out your slightest command."

"I wonder which is bothering you the most. Is it the fact that my warriors will know I will be staying the night with you, or that your brother will allow it?"

"Take your choice. I have become very disillusioned with my brother, and as to what your warriors think of me, they seem to treat me as if I am not even here."

"I wonder if you are being unfair to your brother as well as to my men."

"What does it matter."

"Mara, would you prefer if I came to you by cover of night, as I did before?" he asked, as his eyes were drawn to her breasts, which were thrust forward with every breath she took.

Seeing where his eyes were resting, she grabbed a fur robe and pulled it about her shoulders, pulling it up under her chin with shaking fingers. She was disturbed by the warmth that spread through her body like wildfire.

"I would prefer it if you would not come to my tent at all," she said, horrified by the fact that her voice came out in a throaty whisper.

Tajarez began unfastening his fringed shirt, and Mara turned away quickly, not wanting to be reminded of the broad expanse of his shoulders.

"W ... what are you doing?" she asked, scrambling to her feet.

"It has never been my habit to sleep with anything on. However, I shall retain some of my clothing for your sake," he said smiling in amusement at her shyness after all that had transpired between them.

She turned her back, more upset by her own feelings toward him than by any fear of what he might do. "I will never allow you to force your unwanted attentions on me again. I will fight you with every ounce of strength I possess," she challenged him.

She had not heard him come up to her until he spoke just behind her, and she almost jumped out of her skin.

"I grow weary of this game we play, Mara." She felt his hand at the nape of her neck, and his touch sent her heartbeat soaring. "I would not need force to get you to submit to me."

No, she thought, he would not have to take her by force. All he had to do was touch her and she fell apart. She moved away from him, hoping she would never again allow him to make love to her. She turned slowly to face him, and she felt her stomach tighten into knots. He wore nothing but the white breechcloth. Against her will her eyes moved over his magnificently proportioned body. His long, powerful legs were spread slightly apart in an arrogant stance. After a sweeping assessment of his body, she lifted her eyes to his face, and found he was watching her closely. She expected some remark or even a smug look, but she read only sadness in his dark eyes. She had seen that look in his eyes once before, in her dreams, and that knowledge brought her no comfort. He was hurting; he was sad, and she needed to know the reason why. All other thoughts were pushed out of her mind as she silently watched him.

"Why are you sad? Who has caused you pain?" she asked, wanting to reach out and touch him, to give him comfort.

A mask seem to fall into place, and the look of pain was replaced with one of indifference.

"You are mistaken. Why should I be sad?"

Mara was not to be put off by his disarming remark. "You have the most expressive eyes. They speak a language of their own. I have seen the sadness, and I would like to help you if you would allow me to."

"Why? Did I not hear you say today that you loathed me?"

"I think I do not like you very well. I find you a man without honor, but still I do not like to think of anyone suffering, if I can help in any way. I can sense about you a very deep sadness, and it touches a chord of pity in my heart." And it did touch her heart more than she was willing to admit. For a man such as Tajarez, with such obvious power and strength, it was almost unthinkable.

"I have been called many things in my life, Mara, but never was I told that I had no honor. Would you explain that to me?"

"Perhaps among your people it is not considered dishonorable to make love to one woman while you have a wife, but to me it is very wrong."

"But, Mara, what about you, who willingly returned my lovemaking, all the time thinking you were allowing another woman's husband to make love to you?"

"I am no less guilty than you. I have not the right to condemn you."

"What did you mean when you said you would like to comfort me? Would you come into my arms, and grant me a moment of forgetfulness?" he challenged her in a passionate voice.

Her green eyes glinted dangerously, and she tossed her golden hair defiantly. "Is that all it would take for you to be happy? I am beginning to wonder if you ever have anything else on your mind. Perhaps you should consider having a harem; I understand it works quite well in some uncivilized countries."

His eyes sparkled in silent mirth. "I do not think my queen would condone a harem. Still, it is not an unpleasing thought, if I could enlist you as my favorite."

She stepped away from him, but her foot became entangled in her long nightgown and she would have fallen had he not steadied her with a hand on her shoulder.

"You do not need to rush into my arms. I will give you time to consider being my concubine," he said lapsing into English, since there was no word for concubine in the Lagonda language.

"Your ego is exceeded only by your audacity. You are no better than a Frenchman called Du Lac, who tried to force me to go away with him. At least he did offer me marriage first, so Andrew would have a father."

Mara drew in her breath at the fire she saw leap into his eyes. She saw the anger distort his face, and when he spoke his voice as hardly above a whisper, but it had the intensity of a whiplash.

"Why was I not told about this? What man do you speak of?"

His hand fell heavily on her shoulder, and she felt his fingers bite into her tender skin. "Speak, Mara. I demand to hear all about this man."

"I beg your pardon. Who do you think you are to demand anything from me? I will tell you nothing!" she said defiantly.

He twisted her around and lifted her into his arms. "Will you not, Mara?" He set her down hard on the fur robe and walked over to the tent flap and threw it open.

"Tell Jeffery to come to me at once," he told whomever it was he spoke to.

Mara would have risen, but he swung around and pinned her with a look that made her change her mind. Why was he acting so strangely? What happened to her was not his affair. She had never seen him so enraged. His eyes were dark and foreboding, and the look he gave her told her not to say a word.

Jeffery entered the tent looking first at Mara and then Tajarez.

"Tell your king that what I do is none of his business, and he has no right to treat me as one of his lowly subjects," Mara dared to say, now that her brother was present to stand between her and Tajarez's unreasonable anger.

"What is she talking about, Tajarez?" Jeffery asked wondering what was amiss now.

"Why did you not tell me about the Frenchman?" Tajarez demanded.

Jeffery looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Palomas and I discussed it and decided not to say anything to you, hoping Mara would regain her memory and tell you herself."

"You and Palomas dared to take it upon yourself not to tell me. This time you have gone too far, Jeffery."

Mara stood up slowly. "Do not talk about me as if I were not here," she said coldly. "It was not my brother's place to tell you anything, or to keep anything from you. We are discussing me. If you are so anxious to hear about Du Lac, I will tell you, although I fail to see that it is any of your affair," she finished haughtily.

Tajarez turned to face her. "I am glad your have come to your senses." He sat down and motioned for Mara and Jeffery to do the same.

Mara gathered the fur robe tightly about her and sat down beside her brother, somehow needing to be close to him.

"Who is Du Lac?" Tajarez demanded.

"He was a Frenchman," Mara replied.

"Was?"

"Yes, was. Palomas killed him."

Tajarez's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps you had better start at the beginning."

"I do not see . . ."

"Do as he says, Mara," her brother interrupted.

Mara sighed. Once again she would get no help from her brother. "Du Lac was a friend of Zeke's, Jake did not like him very well."

"I am not interested in the Frenchman's relationship with the trappers. Tell me about you and him."

Mara looked at him defiantly, but the murderous look in his dark eyes made her suddenly fearful. "Du Lac asked me to marry him. I suppose because I allowed him to kiss me, he felt encouraged to ask for my hand."

"You allowed him to touch you?" Tajarez snapped. "Why?"

Mara wondered why he was looking at her so accusingly. "I wanted to see . . . what it would feel like to be kissed by him." She could have said she wanted to compare Du Lac's kiss to the ones Tajarez had given her in her dreams, but she did not dare.

Tajarez closed his eyes. He could not bear to think of any man's touching Mara, let alone kissing her.

"And did you like the kiss?" he asked in an uneven voice.

Jeffery stood up. "I do not think you want me here, Tajarez."

Mara blinked her eyes. Would Jeffery desert her now when she needed him?

"Sit down Jeffery. You will stay," Tajarez said.

Mara jumped to her feet. "My brother can stay here and be insulted by you, but I assure you I will not."

Tajarez stood up and towered over Mara. "Perhaps it is best for you to leave, Jeffery, this no longer concerns you," he said reaching out to take Mara by the arm.

"Jeffery, do not leave me," Mara cried.

"Tajarez, let her go. She does not understand," Jeffery said.

"I said, leave, Jeffery."

"Tajarez, think. Mara does not know. ..."

"Leave now, Jeffery," Tajarez repeated. His voice was not above a whisper, and his eyes never left Mara's face. She shivered as she heard her brother leave.

"I am not frightened of you," she said in a choked voice, knowing full well that she had seldom been more frightened.