Savage Desire (Savage Lagonda 1) (30 page)

The tide of the battle was going against the Lagonda. They were hopelessly outnumbered. He saw the dead and the dying. The Kiowa might win, but their victory would be a costly one, for there were many more Kiowa dead than Lagonda.

He noticed that his tent was burning. He looked quickly at Mara's tent, and saw a fire-tipped arrow slice easily through the deerskin. Fire danced on the structure as it ignited into a blaze.

Running across the open space, he leaped into the air and removed the fiery missile. Then he threw dirt onto the flame. He soon saw it was a losing battle, for other arrows penetrated the tent. Rushing around to the front of the tent, he saw the two warriors who had been guarding the entrance were dead, but there were many Kiowas lying dead beside them.

Opening the tent flap, he found the inside empty. He looked about for some sign of Mara, and finally sighted her. She was being led to the dry riverbed by Palomas. He saw them being pursued by two Kiowas. Tajarez leaped into action to help Palomas, who had by now turned to do battle with the enemy.

Tajarez grabbed one of the men, and with an armlock around the man's neck, applied pressure. He did not loosen his grip until the man ceased to breathe.

Grabbing a frightened Mara by the hand, Tajarez dragged her into some bushes that grew along the riverbed. He quickly shoved Mara down and covered her body with his own. Tajarez knew it was only a matter of time before they were discovered. He turned Mara over and held her in his arms while he kept a lookout over her shoulder for any intruder. She was trembling in his arms. He saw three Kiowas coming in their direction. It flashed through his mind that they might take his life before he could end Mara's. He slowly unsheathed his knife. "Kiss me, Mara," he whispered, knowing it would be only moments before the Kiowas were upon them.

Her lips trembled beneath his. There were so many things he had wanted to tell her, but there was no time, there would never be time now.

Mara felt the point of Tajarez's knife at the base of her spine. She looked into his eyes, seeing the anguish written there. "Make it quick, Tajarez," she whispered, "and kiss me once more. Let me die with the feel of your lips on mine."

Tajarez felt so many conflicting emotions—anger that he must kill the one he loved most in the world; sadness that they must die without ever having really been together; and pride in the way she faced death at his hands with such bravery. His lips touched hers with reverence. His hand tightened on the hilt of his knife.

The hand that held the knife trembled. Tajarez knew in that moment he would be unable to end her life.

Mara felt him hesitate.

"I cannot, Mara. I cannot," he said in agony.

They stared into each other's eyes, each knowing they could die at any moment. Tajarez's eyes were wild in his grief. Mara's eyes were teary and sad.

Hearing movement, Tajarez looked over Mara's shoulder and saw one of the Kiowa fall with an arrow in his back. Palomas threw down his bow and charged the other two.

Tajarez was torn. He could count at least seven more Kiowas charging down the embankment toward them. Should he help Palomas, and leave Mara alone and unprotected? He feared that either way he would die, and Mara would become the captive of the Kiowa chief.

Pushing Mara away from him roughly, he jumped quickly to his feet. Standing not twenty paces from him was the Kiowa chief. If he could overcome the chief, he could yet turn the tide of the battle in his favor.

Mara saw Tajarez race across the dry riverbed. She stared in horror as one of the Kiowa braves lifted his bow and aimed at Tajarez's broad chest. She screamed as she saw the arrow penetrate Tajarez's body. She jumped to her feet as she saw his knees buckle beneath him. He fell to the ground.

Tajarez did not see the arrow that struck him. He felt a stinging sensation, then he was overcome with a feeling of weakness and felt himself falling to the ground. Using all his strength, he rose. His wound was bleeding profusely. Gritting his teeth, he broke off the shaft of the arrow, leaving the arrowhead imbedded in his body. Tajarez struggled and fell to his knees. Struggling again to rise, he found he did not possess the strength. Looking up, he saw the Kiowa chief advancing on him. He watched helplessly as the chief drew his knife.

It flashed through Tajarez's mind that because he had not been brave enough to end Mara's life, once he was dead, she would be alone and unprotected.

The chief was now astride Tajarez, who did not have the strength to throw him off. Tajarez saw the man raise his knife over his head and watched helplessly as the blade descended. The knife halted halfway. Tajarez watched as the knife fell from the hand of the Kiowa chief and landed on the ground beside them. The chief had a puzzled expression on his face as he slumped forward, pinning Tajarez to the ground. In a haze of pain, Tajarez saw Mara standing beside him, holding the bloody knife that had ended the chief’s life.

Throwing down the knife, Mara began frantically tugging and pulling at the dead man, trying to remove him from Tajarez.  She seemed to have superhuman strength, and she finally succeeded. Kneeling down beside him, she tried to stem the flow of blood from his chest wound. With every beat of his heart, Tajarez's life blood pumped into the dry riverbed, turning the sand red.

Mara was making little animal sounds as she tried to stop the red flow. She applied pressure to the wound. When that did not bring results, she ripped a long strip from the skirt of her gown and held it against the wound, but the cloth was soon soaked with Tajarez's blood. She knew if she could not stem the flow of blood, Tajarez would die.

Tajarez felt darkness closing in on him, and he struggled to hold it at bay. There were so many things he wanted to say to Mara before he died. There were so many misunderstandings to clear up between them.

He was aware that Palomas was kneeling beside him with a worried frown on his face. "Get . . . her away . .
.
from here ... I do . . . not want h-her ... to see me like . . . this," Tajarez told Palomas with considerable effort just before he lost consciousness, something he had never before done in his life.

The Kiowas, seeing that their chief was dead, picked up his dead body and rode away, leaving many others of their dead behind.

Palomas lifted his fallen prince, carried him out of the dry riverbed, and laid him gently down upon the grass.

Mara would have followed him, but Jeffery restrained her. She struck out at her brother, trying to free herself. "Let me go. He is my husband. Release me," she screamed. Jeffery lifted her into his arms as she struggled with all her might.

"He is dead!" she cried. "My husband is dead and you will not let me go to him."

"Mara, you are becoming hysterical. Palomas will take care of Tajarez."

She laid her head against Jeffery's shoulder and cried hysterically. Her brother was at a loss how to handle her. It seemed as though hours passed. Mara would become passive one moment, only to rage against Jeffery's restraining arms the next. He was tiring, and did not know how much longer he could control her. Sasha tried to talk to her, but Mara would not listen.

The tents had all been destroyed except for two, and Tajarez now occupied one of those. Just when Jeffery thought he could no longer confine Mara, Palomas appeared at the entrance to Tajarez's tent and walked over to them.

"I have removed the arrowhead. The prince lost much blood, but he lives."

"I want to go to him," Mara cried.

"No, he does not want you to see him," Palomas told her.

Mara renewed her struggling. "I
will see
him, and you cannot prevent me," she screamed.

Jeffery looked at Palomas helplessly. "Could she not see him for a moment? It might quiet her down."

"No. The last order the prince gave me was to keep her away."

"You will not let me see him because he is dead," Mara cried.

Palomas, seeing her overwrought condition, reached out his hand to find the pressure point at her throat. He then applied light pressure, and Mara went limp in Jeffery's arms as she lost consciousness.

"She is not hurt, Jeffery. She will be unconscious for only a short while. Take her to the tent. When she regains consciousness, Sasha will give her the drug to make her sleep."

When Mara awoke, Sasha coaxed her to drink the potion she had prepared for her. Mara complied, not knowing the drink would make her sleep.

Later Jeffery and Palomas sat beside Tajarez. It was strange to see Tajarez unconscious. His bronze skin was pale from the loss of so much blood.

"Palomas, will he survive?
1
' Jeffery asked.

"I have done all I know how to do. All else rests with the Great Father."

"I do not know what my sister will do if he does not recover."

"She is strong. It was she who slew the Kiowa chief."

That night, the camp was a place of mourning. There were many dead Lagonda warriors to be buried. When the task was completed, the Kiowa dead were carried to the dry riverbed and their bodies burned.

Many solemn-faced warriors sat by the campfires and watched as the sun rose, wondering what would be the fate of their beloved prince.

There were many wounded to tend to, and Jeffery and Sasha tended them as best they could.

By evening, Mara still slept, and Tajarez had not regained consciousness. The arrow had not pierced any vital organs, but it had severed an artery, which accounted for the great loss of blood.

Palomas knew Tajarez would not die from his wound, but the danger came from the high fever and possible infection.

Sometime during the night, Mara awoke. Sasha fed her some broth, then on Palomas's orders, gave her another sleeping potion. Mara did not seem to be aware of what was going on around her. She welcomed the sleep, for she felt in her heart that Tajarez was dead.

Sasha told Jeffery later that Mara did not even ask how Tajarez was.

Word had spread throughout the camp that the Golden One had slain the mighty Kiowa chief, and it only served to add to the reverence the warriors already felt for her.

She must truly be a goddess, they said. How else could one so small slay so strong a man.

Mara awoke the next afternoon to find Jeffery sitting beside her. She sat up slowly. The inside of her mouth felt like cotton, and her head was pounding painfully.

Jeffery gave her a drink of water and waited for her to speak.

"When will we be able to return home, Jeffery?" she said quietly.

He reached for her hand. "Mara, Tajarez is not dead, although he is gravely ill. I believe he will pull through."

She looked at him dully. "Jeffery, do not lie to me. I know he is dead. He lost too much blood to survive."

"Honey, I would never lie to you about anything so important. Tajarez lives."

"Can I see him?" she said, trying to rise.

"No. Palomas will not allow you to see him."

Mara stood up on shaky legs. She waved Jeffery aside when he would have helped her. "I am going to see Tajarez for myself, and not you, Palomas, or the devil himself, can stop me."

Jeffery held the tent flap aside for her, knowing it would do no good to try and dissuade her. He knew her so well, and once she had her mind set on something, she let nothing and no one stand in her way.

Many dark eyes watched her as she walked the short distance to the tent where Tajarez lay. When she reached the front of the tent, Palomas stood with his arms folded across his chest, barring her entrance.

"Move aside, Palomas," Mara demanded. Her green eyes were sparkling dangerously.

"I cannot let you enter. I am bound by my prince's orders, and he did not want you to see him."

"Has he regained consciousness?"

"No."

"Then stand aside. I am countermanding his orders."

"I cannot."

Mara's anger flamed to life. "Stand aside, Palomas, and that is an order from me." She did not wait for his reply, but brushed past him, making it impossible for him to stop her unless he used force.

Palomas had never come up against a woman who would disobey the prince's orders. For the moment he was at a loss how to handle her, then a smile tugged at his mouth. She was like no other woman.

Mara knelt down beside the still form of her husband. He was dressed only in his white doeskin breechcloth. He seemed so pale, so lifeless. Touching his brow, she saw he had a very high fever. She found a cloth and a jug of water lying beside him. Dampening the cloth, she began to bathe his face, then his arms and chest. When his whole body was bathed, she repeated the process.

Palomas and Jeffery knelt down beside her. Palomas had cleaned the wound and applied the healing herbs. He knew well how to tend the wound, but the fever was another thing. He had no experience with fever.

"How much water do we have in camp?" Mara asked.

"Enough for our needs," Palomas told her.

"Bring me all of the water we have, and send someone to find more. I will need enough water to bathe him until the fever is lowered."

Palomas looked at Jeffery. "Is it wise to bathe him?"