Falcon’s Captive (20 page)

“Ten. Between youth and man.”

She already understood more than he thought she would. Maybe she sensed where the telling was taking them. “I wasn’t there because I’d wanted to attend spring’s celebration. My grandparents insisted they needed my help in preparing the land for planting, but I argued that another two days wouldn’t make any difference. By the time I returned…”

“It was too late.”

It was, but not for the reason he’d told her earlier. “I spotted the smoke before I reached the hut. I kept telling myself that they were burning weeds, but I knew better. Then, when there was no hiding from the truth, I was afraid to go any farther.”

Still resting her hand on his arm, she leaned back a little, and he guessed she was trying to study his expression. Hopefully the night would keep its secrets because these might be the hardest words he’d ever spoken. He still didn’t understand why tonight, with her, everything was spilling from him.

“Scouts had alerted us that strangers had come to Ekew, but the shaman—Tau’s father—said we had nothing to fear from them. Seeing the smoke, I knew he’d been wrong. Horribly wrong.”

“Couldn’t you have gone back to the village and asked the warriors to come with you?”

With both of them on their sides facing each other, their knees touched. Although they’d recently fucked, her presence so distracted him that he rolled onto his back and stared at the sky. After a moment, she sat up, took his hand, and held it between hers.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” she said. “Would you rather I say nothing? Wait for you? Or maybe you need me pushing you a little.”

How could he have once thought her less intelligent than him? “I need to get this out, but it’s hard.”

“You’ve started. That was the hardest part.”

Not sure she was right, he nevertheless nodded. Then, staring at the stars, he pushed on. “I wanted to turn around and run back the way I’d come, but before I could take the first step, I heard my grandmother scream.”

“Ah—she was still alive?”

“Yes.” His tone became flat and emotionless. “They both were. Burned. Badly burned.”

Her ragged breath was nearly a twin of the one he’d just taken.

“Somehow they’d gotten outside, but they’d collapsed. They were holding onto each other, my grandmother screaming and my grandfather—he kept making a sound I’ve never heard from a human throat.”

Jola’s hold on his hand tightened. Pulling this proof of her strength into him, he continued. Although he plowed through the telling as quickly as possible, he left nothing out. When he saw what had been done to them, he’d tried to get his grandparents to stand so he could help them into the river with its cooling water, but neither had been able to move. They’d begged him not to leave them, but he made a number of trips to the river, filling the family’s water bladders each time and dragging them behind him. He’d poured the water over the worst of their burns, beseeching them not to cry out as he did. But they had.

“Then Grandfather ordered me to stop. He grabbed me with what was left of his—and…” The old memory of the stench of burned flesh stopped him.

“I’m here, Nakos,” Jola muttered as she settled his hand on her soft thigh. “Don’t forget, I’m here.”

And because you are, I’m saying things I never believed I would.
“He—he begged me to end his wife’s agony, and then his.”

“Nakos? Are you saying—”

“Yes.” His eyes became hot coals while ice clogged his veins.

“It was you who killed them, not the enemy.”

Much as he needed to thank her for saying what he still wasn’t sure he had the strength for, he couldn’t because his throat had closed down again.

“Nakos, don’t blame yourself.”

“They were my life,” he managed. “Before—before they died, I’d been upset at them for expecting me to work instead of sharing in the festival. On my way home I’d realized how selfish I’d been. I was feeling guilty because they had to do my share of the labor, and I had decided to apologize. I never got the chance.”

She’d kissed the back of his hand and returned it to her thigh before the gesture registered. “They know.”

Thank you for saying that.
“I pray they do.”

“Believe me, they do. My parents, particularly my mother, tells me that when I become a mother, I’ll understand how deep a parent’s love is. It must be the same for grandparents. Besides…”

“What?”

When she didn’t respond, he rolled back toward her. Looking at the night had been easier, yet he needed her gaze on him.

“What were you going to say?” he prompted.

“That—that you did what they couldn’t for themselves. You put a swift end to what would have taken a long time.”

Yes.
“Who was I to decide when they should die, to take the decision in my own hands?”

“Don’t do this to yourself!” She started to scramble onto her knees; then, perhaps seeing something he wasn’t aware of in his expression or voice, she sank down beside him, resting her head on his chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to try to stop you from talking. You’ve kept this inside for so long. It’s time for the truth to come out. The words, your doubts—those things don’t matter as much as leaving nothing behind does. There isn’t more, is there?”

He hadn’t told her what he’d done to stop his grandparents’ hearts from beating, but that would have to wait for another time, if it ever happened. “No,” he managed.

“How do you feel?”

His feelings? He almost told her that he’d had years in which to reconcile himself to what he’d done, but holding the truth to his heart was far different from what had just happened. “I don’t know.”

“More at peace, maybe?”

She was right, in a way. Even with pain still tearing at his throat and his heart in agony, he experienced a sense of freedom he’d never expected.

“I hope you are,” she continued. “Nakos, thank you for trusting me with this. Do you want to say more? Details maybe. I don’t know what to ask, or whether to say nothing.”

“Say nothing.” Night air pressed against his shoulders and legs to remind him of the world beyond the two of them. When he ran his hand over her back, she shivered, and although he wanted to tell himself that his touch was responsible, he couldn’t. “It’s getting colder.”

Rolling away from him, she grabbed the blanket and pulled it over both of them. Having her move against him like that sent erotic messages to his cock, but although it stirred, he didn’t try to encourage it. Truth was, he felt more exhausted than he had just after they’d had sex. His mind was drained; his emotions had slipped off into a place he couldn’t reach.

Drifting, he again rubbed her back. This time he found no goose bumps, just a long, slow shudder that spoke of an emotion that had nothing to do with the cold. Leaving her to deal with it, he studied one star after another until his lids closed. His breathing lengthened out. A moment later, he heard himself snort. Instead of turning onto his side so, hopefully, he wouldn’t snore, he concentrated on one slow breath after another.

Sleep drifted over him. This time no nightmare waited.

S
he didn’t love Nakos, nothing like that.

Still, as she watched him get ready for the day, Jola acknowledged an emotion she’d never expected to feel where the Ekewoko were concerned. She still didn’t understand why he’d shared his deepest secret with her, but even more important, she hoped he didn’t regret it. They’d said nothing when they’d woken up. Instead, they’d rolled away from each other and sat with their backs still to each other. But before that, she’d felt his erection against her belly and acknowledged the soft warmth between her legs. Those responses, she told herself, were primal and primitive. They had nothing to do with what she felt for Nakos or whatever his thoughts about her might be.

As soon as he’d relieved himself, Nakos had joined his friends in rekindling the fire and pulling out strips of dried meat to eat. Assuming they’d share their food with her, she got dressed and walked off by herself so she could urinate. Then she returned and knelt before the fire warming herself.

Farajj had been tying his sleeping mat into a bundle, but now he stopped and studied her. “What happened to her ropes?” he asked Nakos.

“I took them off her.”

“So I see.” Farajj exchanged a look with Ohanko. “I told you. The Wilding has been tamed.”

“Maybe,” Ohanko muttered. He handed her a piece of meat. “Is my friend right?” he asked her. “You’ve become Nakos’s pet?”

Although she wasn’t sure what “pet” meant, she sensed it was less than complimentary. “I belong to no one,” she replied.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Why aren’t you running away?”

“Stop it,” Nakos interjected.

“Stop what?” Ohanko asked.

“Whether she stays or leaves is between her and me.”

Ohanko and Farajj exchanged another look. “Our orders—” Ohanko started.

“You heard our lord,” Farajj broke in. “And Tau. They’re determined to learn where the falcons nest and where, maybe, her people live.”

“We’re here.” Nakos pointed at Raptor’s Craig. “We can find the trail.”

Despite the seriousness of the moment, Jola couldn’t stifle a small smile. How little Nakos and the others knew. The Falcons had nothing to fear from three men many hundreds of feet below them. They never would.

“What will it be, Jola?” Nakos asked her. “Do you guide us, or do we find the way on our own?”

She stared up at the man who’d impacted her life in so many ways. A part of her longed to show him what it meant to be Falcon, to be as honest with him as he’d been with her last night. But his revelation about his grandparents had touched just the two of them, while anything she said or did impacted her people’s future.

“You came armed,” she told him. “I will never expose my people to your weapons.”

At first she couldn’t read his reaction. Then he shrugged and turned toward his companions. “You heard her,” he said.

Farajj grumbled that Tau and Sakima would be less than pleased, but Ohanko only nodded. “Her loyalty for other Wildings is no less than ours is for the Ekewoko,” Ohanko said. “Can we expect it to be any different?”

“If he”—Farajj indicated Nakos—“had turned her into a sex slave as our leaders wanted him to, she’d be on her knees before him and eager to do whatever he commands.”

Jola scrambled to her feet. “I’m not a beaten animal.”

“That’s not what I said,” Farajj insisted. He planted himself in front of her. “I never called you an animal. But you’re female. A slave to your sex.”

Sometimes. And only around Nakos.

“If that’s what you think of all females,” she told him, “then you know nothing.”

Farajj looked as if he’d like nothing better than to backhand her, but before he could make a move—if indeed that had been his intention—Nakos grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him. Furious, she stepped around him only to be forced to stop as Nakos extended his arm in front of her. “Enough,” he said. “Do what you believe you must, Farajj. Are you going to join Ohanko and me or—”

“I’m with you,” Farajj said. “I’ve always been. I just need to know what’s going on inside you.”

Wondering what Farajj would think if he knew the man he considered a close friend had spent years keeping something from him, she nevertheless envied the relationship between the three. Long seasons in each other’s company and acknowledging that their lives depended on each other had forged close ties. In contrast, all she and Nakos had was mutual physical need. She loved Falcon Land while he considered it worthless.

As the men set about arming themselves, another thought struck her. Since waking to find Nakos’s bonds on her and lake water coating her body the other day, her mind had only briefly and occasionally turned to her family. Granted, as an adult, she no longer lived with her parents and didn’t see them every day. But since Raci’s death, she’d felt the need for their company. In Falcon form, she’d flown to the outcropping where they lived almost every day, and if she didn’t make the short trip, one or both of her parents would fly to the nest she’d set up with Raci.

Undoubtedly they’d been looking for her. When whichever Falcon had been keeping an eye on her told the others what he or she had seen, they would have gathered as many Falcons as possible around them and maybe tried to plan her rescue. Whatever their decision, she’d be surprised if keen predator eyes weren’t on her and the men right now.

As for why the Falcons hadn’t attacked Nakos before now, the answer lay in what it meant to be a Falcon. Although they all shared a common bond, Falcons were by nature solitary creatures. They came together to mate, breed, and raise their young, but Falcons hunted alone. Flew alone. Not only that, never before had their existence been threatened. Even if the Falcons understood the danger, they might not know how to respond.

She tried to study the sky without drawing attention to what she was doing, but between the bright morning sun and her weaker human eyes, she couldn’t make out a single dark speck in the heavens. However, thinking about how much more she could see when in raptor form filled her with sharp longing. She’d never occupied her human body this long before meeting Nakos and needed the swoop and sway of freedom, the reckless dive through hundreds of feet of air. Needed freedom.

Forcing her thoughts off what made her want to cry out, she focused on Nakos and his friends. Yes, his form was still familiar to her, but he stood across the campfire from her, dressed in the trappings that proclaimed him as Ekewoko. He was here because he and the others believed they could claim Falcon Land and rob the Falcons of their future. He was wrong, of course; none of them had that right!

She wanted him gone.

“What are you staring at?” Nakos asked, startling her.

She met his gaze. “I’m trying to understand what makes you so arrogant.”

“Arrogant?”

“You and your companions, you’re all strangers to this land. Just because you’ve been forced to leave Ekew, that gives you no right to claim mine.”

“Yours?” Walking around the campfire, he stopped a few feet away. She should have prepared herself for his impact, but maybe that would never be possible. “Why is this”—he pointed up at Raptor’s Craig—“any more yours than mine? If the birds Tau is after are up there, what do you care?”

Steeling herself against his body’s draw, she stood her ground. “Your shaman is wrong. He has no right to—do you agree with him? Falcons are necessary if you’re ever going to go home?”

“We have to try something.”

“Nakos?”

Recognizing Ohanko’s voice, she reluctantly acknowledged the other warrior who’d joined them.

“What?” Nakos asked.

“We’re ready.”

“I know.” Turning back toward her, Nakos brushed his fingers over her forearm. At the touch, she jumped. It took all her strength not to touch him in return. “You’re not coming with us, are you?”

She shook her head.

“What if I forced you?”

“You won’t.”

She was still where Nakos had left her that morning when he and his companions returned. In her own way, she’d already told him good-bye and could have slipped off to a secluded place where she could become Falcon, but she’d wanted to know if they’d come to the only conclusion they could. Not only that, if they told her what they’d found, or rather what they hadn’t found, she might be able to tell her kind that they were truly safe. As for how Nakos would deal with his discovery—no. That wasn’t her concern.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Nakos said as he drew close.

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t say anything. Why not?”

“Would you have believed me?”

His eyes were weary, his expression sober. At the same time, a spark flamed inside him, prompting her to wonder if it was a flame she’d ignited. Maybe, even if they never saw each other again, they’d always feed off that unique heat. Her body hummed the way the earth sometimes did when a thunderstorm was approaching, and she didn’t dare get any closer to him. Neither did she risk a downward glance.

“No,” he said. It took her a moment to recall what she’d asked him. “I wouldn’t have believed you. I had to see it for myself.”

“Tau is wrong.” Farajj’s voice was heavy with disbelief. “The Ekewoko can never reach where falcons nest.”

A glance in Farajj’s direction left her feeling sorry for the young man. He’d always believed his shaman. His entire life revolved around Tau’s visions, dreams, and
wisdom
. It was Tau who’d helped Lord Sakima decide where the Ekewoko would go and what they needed to do after invaders forced them from their home, but now Farajj and certainly Ohanko and soon everyone else would question Tau’s guidance.

What would that leave them with?

“We looked everywhere.” After dropping to his knees, Ohanko sat cross-legged on the ground. He stared at the bits of ash that were all that remained of the morning’s fire. “There’s no trail up, not the smallest path. Nothing but sheer rock.”

Which was why Falcons had chosen Raptor’s Craig to raise their young.

“What are you going to do?” She wasn’t sure whom she was asking her question. “Will you return to—”

“To camp, yes. We have no choice,” Nakos said wearily. He was looking at her, yet she doubted that he actually saw her. Maybe his eyes had been just as unfocused last night when he’d told her about his grandparents. A wave of sympathy threatened to swamp her. “Our warriors are waiting for us.”

“And once you’ve told them everything?”

Nakos glanced at his companions, then shook his head. “I want to say that Tau will find a new direction to guide us, but I don’t know.”

“All Tau’s visions and dreams,” Ohanko interjected. “How could they have been so wrong?”

Strangely, she wanted to offer an explanation, but what would it be?

“A dark spirit maybe,” Farajj offered. “If one has stolen Tau’s soul—”

“Then maybe the Ekewoko are doomed,” Nakos said.

Doomed? With no future? Knowing Raci’s life was over had devastated her, but the rest of her world had remained the same. But what if everything she’d always believed turned out to be a lie and she couldn’t even return to the land of her birth?

Hurting, not just for Nakos but all Ekewoko, she searched her mind for something to say, but no words filled her throat. Even offering her body to Nakos wouldn’t shelter him from reality.

“I should not have said that,” Nakos said. “I won’t accept that we’re doomed. I can’t. As long as strength remains in him, a warrior doesn’t surrender.”

“I agree,” Ohanko said after a too-long silence. “But what are we fighting? Not the Outsiders; they aren’t here.”

Studying the men’s somber expressions, she guessed that the argument, if that’s what it was, wouldn’t go on much longer because no words could erase the reality of what they’d discovered about Raptor’s Craig. One thing she’d learned while watching them: they were barely aware of her presence. She should, could leave. Now, before the walking away became even harder than it was.

“Tell Tau what you found,” she suggested. “The rest is up to him and Sakima, not you.”

Nakos stared at her from under thick lashes. The silence between them stretched out and became heavy. Then a mist slid into place, blocking him off from her. Much as she ached to tear it apart, she was grateful for it. Turning toward the wilderness, she took her first step. Her legs trembled, forcing her to fill her lungs before going on. Her feet thudded dully on the packed ground, and her arms hummed in anticipation of becoming wings.

“Listen,” Ohanko said, the unexpected word spinning her back around. “Something’s coming.”