Savage Hero (5 page)

Brave Wolf dismounted and tethered his horse to a low tree limb. He motioned for his warriors to do the same.

After they were all on foot, the warriors gathered around Brave Wolf.

“We shall go see whose camp this is,” Brave Wolf said. “Bring your bows and quivers of arrows. We must be ready to fight if there is reason.”

Each man positioned his quiver of arrows on his back, and carrying their powerful bows, they crept stealthily closer to the campsite.

When they got close enough to see more clearly, they halted in surprise.

“A woman,” Brave Wolf gasped as he gazed with troubled eyes at a white woman who was tied to a tree behind the campfire. Gathered around the flames, the renegades were laughing, talking, and eating. “A . . .
white
woman.”

Brave Wolf felt great hatred for the shameful men who took whites captive, especially women. To him such men were the worst of cowards.

He himself had worked hard at keeping a peaceful relationship with the
washechu
, white eyes, for he saw that it was necessary in a world where whites now outnumbered his own people.

Brave Wolf had learned from his peace-loving
ahte
how to make things work with the white eyes. So many people of other clans, who had fought against the whites, had lost their freedom, confined on plots of land called reservations.

Brave Wolf had hoped that if he proved to be a strong and peaceful leader, he could keep his people on their own land at least for a while longer. He did not want to see them forced onto land where the deer were not as plentiful, and where the soil might not be fertile enough for growing food.

Tonight as he gazed at the white woman being held captive, he knew there was only one thing to do: release her and reunite her with her people.

“The woman must be saved from a fate worse than death,” Brave Wolf said, his gaze moving from renegade to renegade. “I hope that she has not yet suffered the disgrace and shame of being raped by those who took her.”

Brave Wolf nodded at his warriors. “We shall make a wide circle around the camp, and then I shall shout at them and tell them how it must be if they wish to live to see another sunrise,” he growled out. “We must try our best to settle this peacefully. It is not best that we enter into a fight with these renegades. I am on a quest. I do not want it hampered by more spilled blood, even if it is not our own.”

His jaw tightened. “But have an arrow notched to your bowstring in case they do not listen to reason,” he said, his eyes narrowed.

Their bows notched with feathered death, they circled the camp. Brave Wolf positioned himself somewhat closer than his warriors, with his friend Two Tails only a short distance behind him.

“Renegades, you are surrounded!” he then
shouted. “But there need be no fight tonight. Just hand over the white woman and then you can be on your way, unharmed. If you do not comply with my demands, you will all die. There is an arrow readied for each of you renegades. So which shall it be? Life? Or death?”

Mary Beth's heart skipped a nervous beat as the voice in the dark came to her. She couldn't help believing that things were getting worse for her by the minute, for surely the presence of other Indians meant still more men who would want to take their pleasure of her.

After the renegade had abducted her, he was soon joined by others. But her heart had sunk when she had seen that none of them had David with them. She could only conclude that the renegade who took him had gone on elsewhere, or . . . he had killed her son and left him somewhere for animals to feast upon.

The possibility of her son dying such a death made her heartsick and ill.

And now?

What was going to happen to
her
? Would she become a pawn between two factions?

She was even more afraid than before. Whichever group won her, she would more than likely end up being raped, perhaps by many, then surely slaughtered.

She waited breathlessly to see what the response of the renegades would be to this new threat.

She watched, then flinched and screamed when one of the renegades raised a rifle and shot it. A
cry of pain from the hidden Indians was proof that although the renegades could not see whom they were shooting at, a man had been hit.

Brave Wolf turned and gazed in disbelief at Two Tails as he crumpled to the ground, a bloody wound gaping in his chest. By the stare of Two Tails's eyes, Brave Wolf knew that he had been killed instantly.

A rage he had not known since the death of his father swept through him. He shouted at his men to release their arrows.

Mary Beth gasped as she heard the whine of flying arrows. The deadly missiles sped from the darkness and showered onto the renegades until they had all fallen.

She felt a bitter taste rise from her throat at the sight of all that blood . . . even though those who had died were her ardent enemies.

Everything was now eerily quiet. All that could be heard was the crackling of the campfire.

Mary Beth watched, wide-eyed, as the killers stepped from the darkness and entered the camp, their bows now resting over their shoulders, their eyes moving from one fallen renegade to another.

“They are silenced forever,” Brave Wolf said quietly.

His gaze moved to Mary Beth; then he looked over his shoulder at one of his warriors. “Big Hawk, take our valiant fallen warrior home for burial,” he said, his voice hoarse with sadness. “Tell his mother,
ahte
, and wife that a piece of my heart died with him, and that he will be honored in
death, as he was in life. Take his children into your arms and tell them they will be cared for and loved, forever and ever.”

The warrior silently nodded and went to Two Tails.

Mary Beth soon heard hoofbeats and knew that the one who had been given the order was now on his way home with a warrior who had died at the hand of the renegades.

Then she swallowed hard when she saw the warrior who seemed to be in charge coming toward her.

The flames of the campfire gave off enough light for her to look deeply into his midnight-black eyes and she felt a moment of relief when she saw something in his eyes that said he did not plan to kill her.

She saw kindness.

Or . . . was it a ploy to gain her trust?

No.

She would never trust a red man. Was it not Indians who had killed poor Lloyd and stolen David?

She had no choice, though, but to wait and see what this redskin's intentions were for her. She was at his mercy, as David had been at the mercy of the renegade who had taken him.

She truly doubted now that she would ever see her son again. Perhaps she would never even see a new sunrise.

There was one thing that she could not help noticing about this man. Not only did she see gentleness
in this warrior's eyes, but also how handsome he was. There was a clean, noble quality about him that she had not seen in the renegades.

She would have to watch herself. She could not allow herself to be fooled by his handsomeness . . . by his attitude.

She must remember to be on guard at all times. She had to find a way to survive . . . to escape. Above all, she needed to be able to search for her son.

Brave Wolf saw the fear in the woman's eyes and how she cowered from him as he took another step closer to her. “Do not be afraid,” he said, speaking English surprisingly well. “I am a
wicasaiyutanyapi
, a man of honor. I am from a friendly clan of Indians. I am Chief Brave Wolf of the Whistling Waters Clan of
Absarokee
, Crow.”

Mary Beth was stunned that this young warrior was a chief. His face was so handsomely set, so perfectly formed, and he was tall and very muscled, not at all how she envisioned an Indian chief to be. She had always imagined chiefs to be old, gray, their faces lined with wrinkles.

She wasn't sure if it was a good thing that he was so young and vital, his dark eyes so mesmerizing.

What danger was she in now? Would he assist or rape her?

Brave Wolf went behind her and cut the ropes that held her captive, then stepped quickly in front of her as she crumpled to the ground, her legs seeming to have lost their ability to hold her up.

He bent to his knees before her and gazed into her eyes. “What is your name?” he asked, seeing now just how beautiful she was.

Her hair was the color of autumn leaves, and hung down past her waist. And her oval face had such soft, pretty features. And she was so tiny! He could not see how any man could want to harm her.

He was so glad that he had come this way tonight and found her. A night with the renegades would have probably been her last.

And her eyes! The fire's glow revealed to him a color like that of the tiny flowers he saw growing in clusters along the mountain slopes—violets.

Mary Beth used every bit of strength that she could muster to stand again. She pushed herself up from the ground, then leaned against the tree for support as the Indian rose and stood before her.

“You want my name?” she said, her voice filled with disgust. “Here is all that I will give to you.”

She spat angrily at his feet, then shot him a defiant stare.

Brave Wolf was not at all surprised by her attitude toward him. He knew that she was right not to trust him, for she surely knew the horror stories that had spread about what some redskins did to white women . . . what was probably even planned for her tonight had he not come along and rescued her.

So he was not insulted by her behavior.

In fact, he saw it as valiant. This lone woman
might pose more of a challenge than the renegades he had surprised tonight. They were all dead. This woman was very much alive.

He thought of Two Tails's death, and an ache crept into his heart. He and Two Tails had been friends since they were young braves learning the ways of warriors. It did not seem possible that he was gone from him so quickly, and so needlessly.

He wondered how he might have approached the confrontation without placing his best friend in danger. Shaking his head, he left off such fruitless speculation. He had to decide what he was going to do with the white woman.

He couldn't take the time to escort her to Fort Hope, where he had friendly relations with the colonel. And he did not dare send her away with just one of his warriors, especially since there were still renegades out there who would enjoy getting their hands on a white woman.

She was best kept where there were many warriors to protect her from the threat of any other renegades who might wish to claim a white woman as a prize. Yes, he had to keep her with him and his warriors, at least until he could return her to people of her own skin color.

“White woman, I have no choice but to take you with me for now,” Brave Wolf said, making certain that his voice was friendly and reassuring.

“I am on a quest for my mother,” he said. “I am looking for my brother and I have traveled far in my search. I cannot turn back for your sake. You must travel with me, but I assure you that when I
succeed with my quest, I will return you safely to your people.”

He was not surprised when he saw no look of relief upon her face. He guessed that she truly did not expect to come out of this alive. But there was no way to reassure her other than what he had already said. She would learn to trust him in time.

“Please, oh, please take me to Fort Henry,” she begged, overwhelmed by a horrendous sense of powerlessness. “That was where I was headed before . . . before the renegades attacked our wagon train.” She hung her head, then slowly looked at Brave Wolf. “I am so weary . . . so tired.”

“I have promised to return you to your people at my first opportunity,” Brave Wolf softly explained, yet even then he would not take her to Fort Henry. The colonel there was not his ally.

He gazed into her eyes and saw a renewal of defiance. She looked guardedly around her, as though she had it in her mind to attempt an escape.

He sighed heavily. “Seeing that you just might try to escape, I have no choice but to tie your wrists as we travel,” he said.

He nodded to a warrior and told him to bring leather thongs from their travel bag.

“No, please don't,” Mary Beth pleaded. “I promise not to try to run away. I will cooperate.”

“I do not know you well enough to know whether or not promises mean anything to you, so I must secure your wrists,” he said regretfully. “I am doing this for your own benefit, to assure that
you won't suddenly break free and ride away from me and my warriors. I fear for your safety should you find a way to escape. There are other renegades besides those who abducted you. You are treated as a captive by me now only to keep you safe from harm. In my heart you are anything but a captive.”

Mary Beth's eyebrows rose at what he had just said.

She had no idea how to feel about her situation now. How should she regard this handsome chief who had come in the middle of the night to save her from the hands of those hideous, murdering renegades?

She was quiet as he tied her wrists, then led her to a horse and lifted her into the saddle. She winced when he tied her ankles to the stirrups.

“You will be riding my best friend's steed. Two Tails was slain as we rescued you,” Brave Wolf said.

Mary Beth could see torment in his eyes when he mentioned Two Tails. She almost felt as though she should say she was sorry for being the cause of his friend's death. But no, she was the one who was owed an apology, not him.

She set her jaw firmly and looked straight ahead, ignoring anything else this redskin savage might say to her.

When Brave Wolf mounted his own steed, he rode close to Mary Beth. He took the reins of her horse, then held them as he rode onward without another word to her. He noticed that as she rode
beside him she was giving him occasional angry glances. He ignored them.

Once again he focused on the true reason he was riding so far from his home in the middle of the night: the guest he had undertaken for his mother.