Savage Betrayal (18 page)

Running now, she dashed onto the gray sand, her bare feet squeaking in the hot, dry sand. Racing towards the pounding breakers, she gained the harder wet sand and sprinted as fast as she could to the water. Seeing the beautiful stretch of beach, hearing the pounding waves, she felt free for the first time since her capture.

Tossing the cedar basket and digging stick carelessly to the sand, she ran to the water’s edge, stepping high and lightly in the cool clear shallows.

She jumped through the waves, showering cold droplets of water, little glistening rainbows, all over herself as she pranced through the shallow waves. Seeing no one about, her sense of freedom was exhilarating and she ran along the beach, breathing the bracing air and feeling the stretch of every muscle in her legs.

She runs as fleetly as a deer
, thought the man standing hidden at the top of the trail. He gazed hungrily at the loping girl.

Sarita ran until she could run no more. Her breath was coming in deep gasps until she at last halted to stand in the clear, cool waves that teased her ankles. Pausing, she stared out to sea, inhaling the cool, ocean-scented breeze that tickled her nostrils and ruffled her free flowing hair.

Breathing restored to normal, she glanced down the beach, back the way she had come. She could barely make out a dark dot on the sand, her clamming basket. Seeing tiny round holes in the sand reminded her of why she was at the beach. Good, she thought. Many clams live here.

Walking slowly back towards her basket and stick, she bent over occasionally to pluck a pretty colored shell out of the swirling clear water. Picking up the basket and pointed stick, she searched for the tiny air passages of the clams.

Small jets of water were the telltale sign that the tasty little creatures were at home. Sarita found a spot where every step she took forced several small geysers into the air.

Her digging stick was admirably suited to digging the elusive clams. Choosing one of the narrow little holes, she plunged the stick far down into the sand and twirled it energetically. Then she kneeled over the small hole, using her hands to quickly scoop up the sand. In this way, she soon chased down several of the small white-backed clams to put in her basket. She gathered gray striped clams, too. These were especially good when steamed.

Occupied as she was, Sarita thought herself alone until a shadow fell over her as she worked. Her head jerked up in consternation. A large man, vaguely familiar, loomed over her.

Then she remembered where she had seen him before. On the morning of her arrival to Ahousat, he had been one of Fighting Wolf’s fellow warriors who had danced about with a gruesome head dangling from his hand. In fact, she remembered clearly now, it was his cruel face she recalled as he had licked the bleeding head of one of the victims. Her stomach churned at the thought.

He stood there quietly, looking at her. She stared back at him. A large man, he wasn’t particularly handsome. There was an underlying current of controlled violence in his manner. His nose was large and hawk-like. Dark circles ringed his eyes. She saw that his face was painted in typical fashion, alternating small red squares across his cheeks. Both arms were painted red too. His lavish decoration must have taken him a long time to prepare, she thought.

Sarita grimly noted his noble status. He was dressed in a yellow kutsack bordered with sea otter fur. She knew instinctively she would have to be very careful with this man.

He continued to gaze at her without speaking. His silence was unnerving. Getting slowly to her feet so she could run if she had to, Sarita faced him fearlessly.

“What do you want?” she asked evenly.

“You,” he shot back.

She gasped. “Who do you think you are to say such things to me?”

“I am Birdwhistle,” he stated arrogantly, continuing to ogle her. “I’m a very important chief. Now, enough of this. Come with me.”

He reached out and grabbed one of her arms in a steely grip. She pushed at his hand with her free one, but he wouldn’t let go. Struggling now, she wriggled her arm, attempting to dislodge his grip. Still he held her. He began to drag her across the sandy beach towards the rolling dunes. She struggled against him, kicking and writhing. He stopped, as if surprised that she was fighting him.

“Come along now,” he said impatiently. “I don’t have much time. Get over to those sand dunes. Now!”

Shocked at his arrogance and angry that he would treat her so callously, Sarita drew herself up to her full height, threw his hands off her arm, looked him straight in the eye, and said coolly, “I’m not going anywhere with you, Ahousat dog!” She glared at him defiantly.

Somewhat nonplussed, he said, “You’re too proud for a slave. You should be honored that I want to lie with you.”

Sarita’s mouth dropped at his unmitigated gall. “I am a chief’s daughter,” she answered as coolly as she could. “I am not here to serve you or any other man!” The nerve of him, she seethed.

“You’re a slave,” he responded cruelly. “You’re no longer a chief’s daughter—merely a slave! Perhaps,” he cajoled, taking a different tack, “if you were to treat me well, I might take you into my longhouse as one of my concubines…
if
you’re nice to me. Otherwise, I might just leave you for anyone who wants you, at any time. Anyone, anytime,” he repeated, growing cruel again. “Not a very nice life for a well-bred girl, is it?” he asked, smiling maliciously.

“That’s not for you to decide,” she returned desperately. “I’m sure Fighting Wolf would be furious if he knew you were here.” Privately, she doubted Fighting Wolf would care, but she had to scare this horrible man away.

“Hunhh,” he snorted. “Fighting Wolf?” The disbelief in his voice shook Sarita. “Fighting Wolf would just laugh. Besides, I don’t see him here. If he’s so concerned about you, why does he let you go about with no protection?” His eyes narrowed. “No, my little clamdigger,” and here he grabbed her arm again, “no one cares what happens to you, so you might as well come with me. Willingly.” So saying, he began dragging her off again in the direction of the sand dunes. Sarita noticed despairingly that the dunes looked closer than ever.

She continued to kick and struggle as they slowly made their way along. Birdwhistle was cursing avidly. Sarita managed to break his hold on her at one point, but when she dashed away, he quickly caught her. She was tiring rapidly, but still valiantly defending herself.

Reaching the sand dunes, he pulled her roughly behind the first mound, away from passing observers. Desperate now, she screamed shrilly, but he slapped a calloused, salty hand over her mouth and growled warningly at her. When she continued her muffled cries, he snarled in her ear, “Shut up, you stupid woman!”

Biting his hand, Sarita managed to get off another piercing scream before his hand descended again. Furious, he threw her to the ground and fell on top of her. Fumbling at the neck of her rough-spun robe, he managed to untie it and drag it halfway down her body. Frantic now, she screamed again and pushed madly at him. He lifted his own robe and she could feel hot, hard flesh pressing against her thigh. She gave one last desperate, frenzied struggle.

Suddenly Birdwhistle was plucked off Sarita, and she watched with incredulous eyes as he sailed through the air to land heavily, his robe high over his thighs. Fighting Wolf stood there, chest heaving. Ignoring Sarita, he lunged for Birdwhistle and picked him up by the neck and shook that hapless man as if he were a puppy. Birdwhistle had no time to recover his wits before a sharp blow from Fighting Wolf’s hard fist sent him sprawling, this time into unconsciousness.

Fighting Wolf continued to stand, panting, and staring at the ungainly figure of Birdwhistle. At last, his breathing calmed, Fighting Wolf turned and walked towards Sarita. As he got closer, he stopped and stared down at the disheveled woman.

She sat clutching her torn kutsack tightly about her. Her hair was tangled and hung loose down her back. Fighting Wolf marveled that she could look so delicately disarrayed after such a brutal attack. He held out a hand to help her to her feet. “Are you all right?” he asked solicitously.

Sarita, trembling, gratefully accepted his support. She shook her head, still too shaken to speak.

With one hand holding her robe closed, she glanced towards the trail. She only wanted to leave this place—and Birdwhistle! As if reading her thoughts, Fighting Wolf quietly guided her to the path that led back to the village. Realizing she was still weak, he escorted her, one arm gently around her.

At last she could speak. “Thank you for saving me from that—that beast. I tried to fight him off but he was too strong.”

Angrily he answered, “What were you doing so far from the village by yourself? Didn’t you realize the danger?” He paused. “Although,” he added as an afterthought, “it’s not your fault he attacked you. The man is vicious. He’s raped many slave women.”

Fighting Wolf wondered at his own anger. Surely he was not jealous over this slave? Nevertheless, he shuddered to think what would have happened to her had he not arrived in time.

Sarita heard the anger in his voice and thought it directed at her. She was grateful he had appeared when he did, so she thought it best to mollify him. “Yes, it was foolish of me to go so far alone, unprotected.” She looked down at the sand for a moment. “I just wanted to get away from the village and all the people for a short while.” She was not about to tell Fighting Wolf she had been trying to avoid
him!
She continued, “I was clamming…Oh! The clams! I forgot them!” She halted abruptly.

Scanning the beach quickly, she saw the clam basket, almost submerged by the incoming tide. Still clutching her kutsack around her, she ran as fast as she could towards the pounding breakers. Fighting Wolf waited patiently near the path, watching her run.

Swooping up the basket and her digging stick before it floated off, Sarita dashed awkwardly through the shallows, basket and digging stick held in one hand, the other holding her flapping robe together.

Laughing breathlessly, she approached Fighting Wolf. It was the first time he had heard her laugh and he found he liked the sound. He wanted to hear more of her laughter. “I forgot all about these silly clams!” she exclaimed, smiling up at him. She knew she was babbling foolishly, but she couldn’t stop herself. She was still shaken from the attack, she realized.

Even white teeth gleamed against the tan of her face, and her dark hair blew gently in the wind. She was a beautiful vision as she stood there.

“He won’t—“ she began.

“He won’t bother you again,” finished Fighting Wolf grimly. “I’ll make certain of that.” On a lighter note he added, “It’s easy to forget about a few clams when one is being dragged off into the sand dunes.” His joking seemed to calm Sarita’s fears. He flashed his attractive smile, and his black eyes gleamed with amusement.

Sarita was enchanted. Taking advantage of his good humor, she asked, “How did you happen to be here when I needed help? Did you know what he was planning?” She pointed with her digging stick to where Birdwhistle lay.

Fighting Wolf frowned slightly before answering. “It seemed to me that you’ve been avoiding me lately.” He gazed into her eyes as he said softly, “So I decided I’d follow you today to see where you went. I’m very glad I did.”

“I’m glad, too,” answered Sarita shyly. She suddenly felt awkward, standing there clutching a basket of clams and the remnants of her robe.

“Now,” he said briskly, seeing her discomfiture. “Let’s start back to the village. I’ll escort you and keep any other assailants at bay.” He smiled down at her as he extended his arm for support. “You do feel up to walking, don’t you?” he asked solicitously.

“Oh yes,” she answered truthfully. “I gladly accept your offer,” she added pertly, smiling back at him.

They entered the cool forest, the pounding of the breakers echoing far behind them. The trail was too narrow to walk two abreast, so Fighting Wolf took the lead. After a few minutes of silence, he turned and said, “Are you sure you weren’t hurt in that attack?”

Now that the danger was past, Sarita was beginning to shake as she realized how narrowly she’d escaped being raped and possibly killed. It took all her coordination to force her trembling legs along the forest path. But she assured him she was fine, that the man had not injured her, only scared her badly. Satisfied, Fighting Wolf nodded and turned back to the trail. They walked in silence back to the village.

Approaching the village, Sarita watched Fighting Wolf’s back straighten. She guessed that now they were back in his territory his status as a chief was of paramount importance to him. Pointing to his longhouse, he said gruffly to her, “Go.”

She stopped and looked up at him. “Thank you again for your help,” she said softly. Then, still clutching her torn robe about her and grasping her basket of clams, she ran quickly to the longhouse.

Once inside, Precious Copper took in the torn robe at one glance. She rushed over and grabbed the heavy basket from Sarita’s arm and dropped the digging stick. “What happened?” she cried.

Sarita described Birdwhistle’s attack and Fighting Wolf’s timely rescue. Precious Copper shuddered.

“Please,” she urged, “Don’t go off by yourself. It’s for your own protection that I ask this. I don’t want anything like that to happen to you again.”

Sarita looking into Precious Copper’s dark brown eyes and saw the sheen of tears. Surprised and moved, Sarita reached out and touched Precious Copper gently on the cheek. "I’ll do as you ask,” she said at last. “I’ve no wish to be hurt, nor do I wish to worry you.” Precious Copper smiled tremulously and Sarita smiled back.

The moment of friendship was broken when Precious Copper said quietly, “I’ll get you another robe. That one is useless to you now.” She walked over to a stack of cedar chests and began rummaging through one. Elbowing her way through the clothes, throwing robes here and there, Precious Copper finally held up one particular robe triumphantly. “Here,” she crowed. “I knew I had this robe somewhere!” She tossed it playfully to Sarita who caught it nimbly.