Falcon’s Captive (16 page)

Not moving, listening intently while straining to see, she reluctantly acknowledged something she never believed she’d have to. For the first time in her life, she was among the enemy naked and without use of her arms. Not only that, she was about to leave someone who’d become important to her.

No! She wouldn’t let herself think that!

Turning slowly, she located the shaman’s tent. Lord Sakima’s was farther away and lost in the night. Whoever was snoring let out a series of blasts that set her feet to dancing. How could anyone sleep through that racket?

Deciding that leaving now was more important than choosing the most advantageous route, she turned her back on the shaman’s tent. She’d taken maybe five steps when something behind her rustled.

Spinning around, she covered her throat with her hands.

“It’s me,” came a faint, deep whisper. “Lamuka.”

The slave!

“Don’t run, not yet.”

Leg muscles screaming, she started in the direction the voice had come from. A mound near the dying fire stirred. Then Lamuka sat up.

“Don’t run,” he repeated, still whispering. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

Much as she wanted to believe him, she didn’t dare. Neither could she think of anything to say.

“I knew you’d try to escape,” Lamuka continued. “Of course you would. Without your freedom, what do you have?”

What was it Nakos had told her, that Lamuka had been a slave for many years and didn’t seem to be interested in any other existence. “What do you want?” she managed, her voice squeaking.

“To wish you well. And to help.”

“I…”

The elderly slave slowly stood. “If I wanted to do you harm, I would have already called out.”

“Then what—”

“I told you, I wish you well.”

“Why?”

“Because—” He took a step toward her, then stopped. “Maybe because I don’t want you to turn out the way I have.”

Walking toward him might well jeopardize her freedom, but something in his tone made it worth the risk. “Why haven’t you tried to leave?”

“I did several times at the beginning, but I came from a small, poor tribe. We never had enough food in our bellies, and other tribes, sensing our weakness, often attacked us. Here I’m seldom hungry and I usually sleep warm. Are you cold?”

Strange. She’d stopped thinking about her nudity, perhaps because Nakos had taken her so deep inside herself. However, now that Lamuka had asked, she nodded.

“And you need to be able to use your arms.”

Holding up her bound wrists, she nodded again.

“That is how I can help you.”

She might be mistaken but thought he’d smiled.

“Wait here,” he continued. “I have extra clothes in my tent, and my cooking knife will easily cut off those ropes.”

Grateful, she blinked back tears. “Thank you.”

“No, I thank you.”

She was still pondering what he’d said when he emerged from his small tent holding a well-worn shirt she guessed would reach to her knees. She’d moved closer to the coals and had turned her back to the fire so she could both warm herself a little and still watch for him. In some respects, he reminded her of her clan’s elders. Although age had slowed them, they still moved gracefully. Wanting to weep, she extended her hands toward Lamuka and watched as he sliced through the strands and threw the rope into the coals. Then she slipped into the shirt.

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted, torn between the need to leave and an even stronger desire to embrace this man. Man, yes, that’s what he was. “You’ll be all right? No one will suspect—”

He indicated the already smoking rope. “You escaped. That’s all they’ll care about.”

“I just don’t want you to jeopardize—”

“Maybe it’s time I took a chance. Go where you need to. Resume your life. But never forget, Nakos is not a cruel man. He is simply who he is, an Ekewoko.”

N
akos stood before the assembled men. One at a time, he met their gazes and then fixed his attention on the one who’d raised him. Tau sat glowering next to an expressionless Sakima.

“I fell asleep,” Nakos said. “I have no other excuse.”

“You didn’t secure her to you?” Lord Sakima asked.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Carelessness,” he said because the truth was between him and Jola, if he ever saw her again. “I was tired. I let my exhaustion take over when I shouldn’t have.”

“Tired, why?”

“A long day of travel followed by getting past her defenses.”

“Getting past them?” Tau repeated scornfully. “If you had succeeded, she would still be here.”

Several others muttered agreement, and in their expressions, he read doubts as to his right to call himself a warrior.

“You are right, all of you,” he said. “I allowed myself to be blinded by—”

“Does it matter?” his friend Ohanko interrupted. “So she has escaped. When she returns to her people, what will she tell them? That the Ekewoko are skilled and well-armed warriors. I say we have nothing to fear from her kind.”

“Perhaps not.” Tau spoke slowly. “Perhaps she will indeed warn her kind not to risk their lives trying to attack. But have you forgotten why she’s valuable?”

No one immediately answered, which Nakos took as proof that none of them wanted to risk being seen as in opposition to Tau.

“I heeded your words,” Nakos said. “That’s why I went in search of a Wilding and why, after I’d captured her, I brought her here. You talked to her, Tau. You know better than anyone how determined she is not to help us.”

The discussion swirled around him with Tau repeating his conviction that the future of the Ekewoko depended on turning his dream of training falcons to attack the Outsiders into reality. Ohanko and Nakos’s other close friend, Farajj, while not calling Tau’s dream foolish, quietly agreed that Ekewoko warriors didn’t need help from the spirits to reclaim their birth land. Other warriors, mostly the older ones, agreed with Tau, while the younger men were more likely to question the accuracy of the shaman’s dream. Much as he appreciated not being universally condemned for letting Jola escape, Nakos hated being the cause of so much disagreement.

Even more he hated having failed and being made a fool of.

Wishing he was the carefree boy he’d been before his grandparents’ death, he stood. As he did, all conversation stopped. But even with everyone’s eyes on him, he was slow to begin. He’d trusted her. What it all came down to when he’d let sleep steal over him instead of securing her to him was that he’d believed she wanted to spend the night nestled against him.

He’d been wrong. She’d simply been biding her time, and while she had, she’d enjoyed everything he’d done to her. Instead of fighting him, she’d opened her body to him and welcomed him in. Used him.

And now she was probably washing his cum from her sex and scrubbing her skin until she could no longer remember what his touch felt like.

“I failed,” he said. “But it will not happen again.”

“What are you saying?” his lord asked. “You’re going to try to capture another—”

“Not another, her.”

“But you don’t know where she is, do you?”

Lifting his head so he could see beyond the camp, he stared at the endless barren horizon. “Several times when she and I were together, I caught her looking at the massive peak north of the great lake. When she did, her expression filled with longing. It was important to her, maybe more important than anything else.”

“That mountain?” Ohanko questioned. “It is nothing; solid rock where not even a single bush can grow. If she made you believe it is special, she was lying.”

That was possible. After what had happened last night, he’d believe anything of her. But her eyes had come alive with love and loss when she’d stared at the peak. He’d seen a hunger as strong and inescapable as what he’d endured when he would have given anything to save his grandparents.

“We’ve already been at Screaming Wind far longer than we believed we would be,” he said. “We’ve gone on countless searches and, although we’ve spotted Wildings any number of times, until I nearly drowned Jola, none of us has ever gotten close enough to capture one. More important, we’ve never found where either the Wildings or falcons live.”

Nakos expected the shaman to blame their failure on the warriors’ inability to garner the spirits’ goodwill. Instead, Tau only cocked his head, obviously waiting for him to continue.

“That’s because we’ve been searching as Ekewoko, not Wildings.”

“What are you saying?” Tau demanded.

“We’ve looked at Screaming Wind through Ekewoko eyes. As such, we saw that mass of rock as worthless, but what if the Wildings have made it their home?”

Quiet muttering followed his comment. Hoping the others were truly listening to him, he pointed toward his tent. “I intend to arm myself. When my preparations are complete, I will head for the mountain. I hope some of you will join me but do so only if you agree with what I just said.”

“Why should we?”

Much as he hated hearing that question from his lord, he understood the reason behind it. Sakima wasn’t going to give up his leadership role without proof that his successor, at least for today, had no doubts about what he was doing.

“I failed when I let her escape,” Nakos admitted. “But I learned a great deal while we were together. Our bodies became one, and when they did, I saw the world through her eyes and slipped into her mind. We were wrong to call her people Wildings. They’re much more than that.”

He looked around at the men who made up his world. Even Lamuka, who usually kept to himself whenever the Ekewoko gathered, was there, although standing back from the group. “They know this land as we never can. They know where they are safest.”

“No human would want to live up there,” someone said.

“Wait!” Tau insisted. “Maybe—if you’re right, whoever is up there can see you approach. They’ll have more than enough time to plan and execute an attack.”

“I know. That’s why only I will make the climb.”

“What will be gained by you sacrificing your life?”

Filling his lungs took a long time. Then: “If she’s there, she won’t want to see me dead.”

Tau looked about to say something but didn’t. For several moments, silence surrounded him, giving him no choice but to ask himself if he was right.

It didn’t matter. He was an Ekewoko. A warrior who’d made a promise to his people.

The air was cooler up on Raptor’s Craig, cleaner, clearer. Standing with her arms outstretched, Jola tilted back her head so her hair slid down her spine.

Freedom! No one controlling her movements or body, no ropes restraining her limbs.

“Do it. Let yourself go.”

Opening her eyes, Jola stared behind her at her chief. Cheyah, lean and muscular despite his advanced age, stood watching her. Like most Falcons, he was naked. Although she’d long ago become accustomed to Falcon cocks, she couldn’t help but compare Cheyah’s to Nakos’s. By Falcon standards, Cheyah’s penis was large. Even at rest, it was longer and thicker than most, which said a great deal about why he’d been made chief. The most virile men made the most commanding leaders.

If that was so, Nakos would be considered Cheyah’s logical replacement the moment he revealed himself.

No! She wasn’t going to think about the man who’d stolen her freedom and more.

“I will celebrate my heritage,” she belatedly responded. “There were times when I wondered if I’d ever be able to change again. Knowing I can become a Falcon whenever I want brings me incredible pleasure, and I’m savoring the moment.”

‘You feel alive, then?”

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

Cheyah shook his head, gray hair flying about. “After Raci was killed, I wasn’t sure you’d ever embrace life again.”

“Did you think that of me?”

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

“I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in my grief that I couldn’t think about anything else.”

“I know. Watching you, I wondered if you wanted to follow Raci into the Otherworld.”

She’d seldom had a private conversation with Cheyah. As chief, he was responsible for the well-being of all Falcons and spent most of his time with the other senior men. As soon as she’d reached Raptor’s Craig, she’d gone to him and told him everything about what she’d learned and observed during her time with the Ekewoko—or rather, she’d told him almost everything. Other than admitting that her captor had tried to turn her body against her as part of his attempts to get her to betray her people, she’d insisted that her captor’s specific techniques didn’t matter because he hadn’t succeeded. To her relief, Cheyah and the other elders hadn’t pushed for further explanation.

“Jola? I still worry about you. Are you all right?”

“I am.” She’d lowered her arms during the conversation but now lifted them again. Her entire body, even her lungs, felt clean and renewed this morning. “I can’t bring Raci back. I accept that.”

“And do you accept that you’re free to choose a new mate? More than free, you’re expected to make a choice.”

A Falcon to spend the rest of her life with, to mate with. “Soon,” she admitted. “Right now I just need to be me.”

“Because your captor stole that from you.” Cheyah extended his hand as if he was going to touch her, then let it drop to his side. “Fly with the sun this morning, Jola. Feel life pour through your veins. Hunt and kill and become strong again.”

She could do that! In truth, she’d ached for that strength ever since Nakos had captured her.

Nakos.

Even more determined not to let him invade her thoughts, she stepped to the edge of the craig. She’d taken off the garment Lamuka had given her before changing into a Falcon and flying to the top of Raptor’s Craig. Then, because she’d needed to communicate with her kind, she’d shifted back into human form. Now the breeze sweeping over her body put her in mind of a lover’s caress.

Silent, she leaned out and jumped. The instant she did, her body started to compress in upon itself. At the same time, it became lighter. Instantly, her ability to see became keener. Feeling herself fall, she lifted her head and opened her mouth. Instead of a scream, a sharp cry erupted. Reveling in the change, she pressed her lips together, only they were no longer soft flesh but hard, capable of tearing the meat from a kill’s carcass.

She no longer had arms but wings longer than the length of her body. The wind rushed over her feathers in a harsh caress. Breasts, waist, belly, and hips were gone, and in their place, a compact form created for speed. Floating now, she fanned her tail feathers and acknowledged how superior her tail was to legs.

The breeze cradled her. Trusting completely, she held her wings out just as, a few moments ago, she’d extended her arms. Back when she was still learning what it meant to be two things, she’d wondered what happened to her human weight and size when she cast off that shell, but she no longer cared. Now she accepted, gloriously accepted.

When she wanted it to happen, her Falcon body would fade away so the human one could take its place, but right now she couldn’t imagine being anything except what she was. A predator.

Free.

The ground was so far below that if she’d been looking at it with a woman’s eyes, it would be nothing except a distant blur. Fortunately, her raptor vision afforded her absolute clarity. There, an ant hill undoubtedly alive with the tiny black creatures. Over there, a spider making its way over a dry leaf. Further out, a gray snake slithering around a rock. If she wanted, the snake would make a meal.

Instead, she’d wait for larger prey. Fly south or maybe west looking for other birds or perhaps a rabbit.

Usually while in Falcon form, she didn’t think. Instead, burying herself in instinct, she’d fly and float and dive. But, maybe because the air was cold this morning, maybe because she hadn’t cleared her mind of her captor after all, his image returned. He might be looking for her, might even think to come here.

At least she wasn’t concerned with his thoughts or emotions. She’d had enough of that weight during her long walk home. All that night she’d wondered what he’d think and do once he discovered that she was gone. Maybe fury would rule him. He’d be consumed with the need to make her pay, perhaps by killing her.

And maybe he’d vow to capture her again.

It wasn’t going to happen! Not while Falcon blood heated her veins.

The sun, which had been behind Raptor’s Craig, lifted over the top and touched her back and head. Energized by the warmth, she headed higher. The universe stretched out before her. Memories of Nakos and Raci faded. She was alone, a predator in her prime with one overriding purpose in life: to reproduce. Her chief had encouraged her to find a new mate, another Falcon, someone to unite with and then feed her while she incubated their offspring.

Tomorrow. That’s when she’d go in search of Raci’s replacement and when she’d put an end to all memories of Nakos.

Today she’d hunt.

Although Nakos preferred that he alone should bear the responsibility and risk of either recapturing Jola or finding another Wilding, he took a couple of warriors with him. Sakima had wanted at least half of the men to accompany him, but Nakos had stood his ground, explaining that the more Ekewoko the Wildings saw, the more likely they were to perceive their presence as a threat and either attack or flee.

Silently, his friends walked beside him. Both Ohanko and Farajj were well armed. In addition, they carried packs filled with dried meat and water. Neither had said anything beyond agreeing when he asked them if they’d accompany him. As they were taking off, Ohanko had asked if he really thought the Wildings might attack. Influenced by Jola’s courage, Nakos had said it was a possibility. Agreeing, Farajj had pointed out that even creatures who were more animal than human would defend themselves. And if they managed to recapture Jola, or any Wilding, the others might try to free her.

Unless Jola begged them not to.

Splitting his attention between his footing and the crystal-clear sky, Nakos pondered whether she’d care whether he lived or died. If they were still together, he might have no trouble convincing himself that his life meant as much to her as her own did, but she’d shattered that illusion with her escape.