Tender savage (30 page)

At the close of the meeting, ninety-one whites and a hundred and fifty mixed bloods had been released, but there was no sign of Erica Hanson. Mark spoke with each of the women who had been freed, describing his fiancee and asking for word of her, but he received no more than sympathetic apologies, until he found a woman who recalled meeting the pretty blonde in her uncle's store.

Although tired ana hungry, Harriet could not ignore the urgency of the handsome captain's pleas and offered the only help she could. "I can tell you only that I know who Erica is, but she has never been with us. If she is a captive, then she must have been held elsewhere." She gave Mark's arm a comforting pat and moved on, eager to see if one of the civilians might have word of her husband.

Sick with fear, in the following days Mark waited as sixteen more white captives appeared at the army encampment, which had been appropriately named Camp Release, but again, all he received in response to his queries were blank stares. No one had seen his fiancee since the day she had been abducted, more than a month ago. Then, finally, it occurred to him to begin interrogating the Indians who had surrendered, for surely if Erica were being held by a Sioux brave, others would have seen her.

Song of the Wren had been in Chief Red Iron's camp when the uprising came to an end. Her father 2ind her brother. Hunted Stag, had fled with Little Crow, while she

had been left behind to care not only for her little sister and her pregnant mother, who was in poor health, but for an aging aunt and uncle as well. That was a sorry situation, which Wren bitterly resented. When she had seen an army officer moving about their camp asking questions, she had no interest in speaking with him. They had all been badly disappointed to find die army planned to put the braves who had taken part in the uprising on trial rather than treat them as prisoners of war, and she would volunteer no information that might harm one of those who had surrendered. Then a curious friend had discovered that the inquisitive captain was looking for a blond woman named Erica, and Wren knew she had to speak with him.

Mark had all but given up his quest for clues as to Erica's whereabouts when he saw a slender Indian maid incline her head as her eyes met his. She turned away, then looked back over her shoulder at him as she started toward the river. Intrigued, if not certain she had been encouraging him to follow her, Mark brought the conversation he had in progress to an abrupt end and started after her.

Wren pausc3 frequently, delighted to see the handsome officer was in dose pursuit. She waited until she came to three sugar maple trees that grew so close together they would screen their meeting from curious eyes, and stopped to wait for him there. When Mark reached her side, he did no more than raise a brow as if to ask what she had wanted, but she had no intention of giving him the information he needed until she learned how he planned to use it. "I have seen you asking questions," she be^an with a deceptively innocent smile. Her teeth were straight, a sparkling white against her dark skin. She knew she was attractive, and hoped Mark, like otiier men, would think so, too. She brushed her long hair off her shoulders, thinking he could not fail to notice how long and shiny it was.

Mark knew very little about Indian women, but since this one seemed so friendly, he leaned back against the nearest maple and reF>eated the description he had ^ven so often he thought he could probably repeat it in his sleep. "My fiancee was taken captive in New Ulm. Since she was not among those freed here, I am hoping someone might have seen her and be willing to tell me where she is. She is very pretty, slender, and no taller than my chin. She has

long, curly blond hair and eyes of an unusual dark blue. Her name is Erica Hanson. Have you see her, or heard anyone mention a white captive with her name?"

Wren scuffed the toe of her moccasin in the dust of the trail. "Perhaps she does not wish to be found," she suggested shyly.

Mark straightened up, suspecting the young woman wished only to flirt with him, and he had no patience for that. "If you should hear something, please let me know. I will provide a generous reward to the person who helps me find Erica."

Money was something her family would need desperately, since it did not look like their annuity would be paid that year. Keenly aware of that. Wren reached out to touch Mark's sleeve, hoping to keep him talking a while longer. "Let me see the money first. Then I will decide if I wish to help you."

Seeing he had her sincere interest now, Mark smiled as he replied. "I plan to pay the reward in gold, and I do not carry that around with me." Taking a ten dollar bill from his wallet, he folded it nonchalantly as he made what he hojDed would be an enticing offer. "Tell me what you know, and I'll give you this. If it leads me to Erica, then I will see you get one hundred dollars in gold." Mark was a wealthy young man and would gladly have promised his entire fortune to set Erica free, but he thought ten dollars would be enough to tempt an Indian maiden to confide in him.

Wren eyed the money for a long moment, then, wanting to be rid of Erica for good, she said, "I know the brave who has her, but you must promise me he will come to no harm."

Perplexed by that demand, Mark wondered if the girl wanted the brave for herself. "He has obviously taken part in the uprising, or he couldn't have taken my fiancee prisoner. He will have to stand trial with the others."

Wren shook her head slowly. "I cannot help you, if it means he will be captured."

Mark frowned angrily, convinced by her reluctance that she did indeed have valuable information, but not knowing what he could promise that would sway her to reveal it. "If you tell me who and where he is, I will try and

convince him to hand over Erica willingly. I will testify to that at his trial. That he turned over a captive without a fight will be in his favor."

Wren now faced the most difficult choice of her life. The officer provided not only a means of ridding their lives of the blond witch, but also a way to earn the money she knew her family would need to buy food for the wmter. Still, she did not want to see Viper put on trial. It was a dilemma that made her head ache, and she did not know what to do.

Mark could see the girl was as deeply troubled as he was, and he grew certain the brave holding Erica must be the man she loved. "If I am the one to find this brave, I will give you my word he will live to stand trial. Search parties are being or^^anized to look for more captives. If someone else fin(£ Erica, they mi^ht kill the brave who has her. Do you want to take that nsk? You will never see the man again if he is shot dead for what he has done. I will give you my word he will be brought back for trial. We are bound to catch him sooner or later. His best chance to live is if I find him. Now where is he?"

Wren's eyes filled with tears as she looked up at Mark. "He has done nothing wrong. Your woman bewitched him. She used her beauty to make him her slave. She is not his. I want only for you to take her away. Viper is the one you will be setting free."

"Viper?" Mark whispered hoarsely. "The brave's name is Viper?" The day was warm, but he felt a sudden chill. Someone stepping upon my grave, he told himself. He had never liked that expression, and he abhorred it now. It was the brave's name that had alarmed him, for surely a man with such a menacing name would be an evil brute. An evil brute he had just promised to see live to stand trial.

Wren nodded. "He and your woman were here with us, but they have gone south. If there is anything left of New Ulm, they may be there now."

Mark handed her the ten dollar bill. For all he knew her tale was a complete fabrication. It was possible Viper did not exist, or if he did, he might not have Erica. It was the only clue he possessed, however, and he would use it. "Thank you. Tell me your name, so I can find you to pay you the reward."

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