Vulcan's Woman (5 page)

The Barbarian took a single step forward. “Not badly hurt?
Her flesh is torn.”

Wisteria leaned her head against the tree and rubbed her
eyes, hoping to clear the haze. The Barbarians had no hearts. Why would they
care what had happened to her?

Sledge strode backward, halting when his heels grazed the rocks
surrounding the fire pit. The Barbarian followed, which sent the clan people
scurrying to the entrances of their caves.

“She will unite with me in six days,” Sledge said, his voice
now low and calm. “But I found her in the arms of an unrelated tribesman,” he
added as if hoping the declaration would justify his actions.

The Barbarian clutched the neckline of Sledge’s frock in his
fists. A trail of gasps emerged from the clan when the man lifted Sledge
straight into the air. His feet dangled above the ground as the Barbarian
carried him to the tree opposite Wisteria and slammed him against the trunk.

She cringed at the sound and squeezed her eyes closed. As
much as she detested Sledge and wouldn’t deny she preferred him dead, she
couldn’t watch.

When silence reigned, she opened her eyes to witness the
Barbarian releasing Sledge, letting him crumple to the ground. With the finesse
of a cave lion, the man walked circles around the trees, eying both her and
Sledge. Too terrified to look at his mask for fear of angering him further, she
lowered her gaze to the ground.

From the corner of her eye she watched him crouch low and
lift Sledge’s head by a fistful of hair. She thought he might break Sledge’s
neck or scalp him. Instead he backhanded Sledge so hard across the face, blood
spurted from his nose. “I should gut you with my bare hands,” he growled.

Wisteria’s gaze followed the man as he stood and turned,
addressing his men. “Settle her on my mount,” he ordered.

She gulped and panic shot through her chest. She suddenly
wished she was still bound and being whipped because she feared it’d be less
painful than what she’d endure in captivity. But she wasn’t going to cry or beg
for her life. She no longer had a future with her clan. Sledge embedded in
their minds that she’d deceived them and in a sense she had.

“Please, don’t hurt my sister,” Ivy pleaded. “She’s the only
one I have. I love her.”

Ivy, don’t. Don’t humiliate yourself. He doesn’t care.
The Barbarians probably killed their own just to quench their thirst by
drinking the blood.

As a man lifted Wisteria, burning pain tore through her
belly and thighs. She winced right before she briefly passed out. When she
regained consciousness she was being carried toward the large black horse. Her
arms and feet bobbed and warm blood bubbled from her cuts. Would the Barbarians
spare her clan or leave them in a bloodbath?

The Barbarian’s deep, menacing voice crept into her
near-unconscious state. “You’ve abused this woman, disregarding her safety. She
could’ve been killed and none of you but this young girl spoke on her behalf.
In my eyes, in my land, she’s now mine. If you abuse the young one who spoke up
for her, I’ll be back to claim her too. If I come back, nothing of your clan
will survive.”

The little bit of strength she had drained and she succumbed
to darkness just as she heard her mom yelling.

Something tickled Wisteria’s nose. She sneezed. Her tummy
slightly jerked, followed by a faint burn.
The whipping.

Her eyes popped open and she came face-to-face with a wall of
fur. It swayed back and forth in rhythm to the clapping of horses’ hooves. She
tried sitting straight but something tightened at her waist and she couldn’t
move. Where was she? The last coherent thing she remembered was hearing her mom
begging the Barbarian to set her free.

The Barbarian! She shuddered and her gaze raced along her
body. She lay crouched on his lap, her hands draped at her sides and her cheek
resting flush against the hide covering his chest. She stiffened. A muffled
heartbeat pummeled her ears but she didn’t know whether it was his or her own.

Where were they headed? Even worse, what were his
intentions? She tried relaxing to mislead him into believing she remained
asleep but her body wouldn’t cooperate and her shoulders stiffened. She inhaled
a shaky breath while gazing at the landscape. They were traveling just outside
the forest through an open meadow, a place unfamiliar to her. A line of
treetops brushed across the moonlit sky, their dark branches swaying in the
slight breeze. If not for the moon’s bright rays shimmering upon the ground,
she and her captors would be encased in complete darkness.

How far away was her home? If she escaped the Barbarians
she’d return and beg her clan for forgiveness. She’d even apologize to Sledge
and accept their union. She thought she’d rather die than spend her life under
his pelts but in her current situation, desperation and fear changed her heart.

Had the Barbarians murdered her clan? She tried to remember
exactly what he’d said. Did he threaten them or promise to murder them?

Again she stiffened.

Her eyes bulged as visions of slaughter raced through her
mind. Her people. Being bludgeoned to death by barbaric weapons.

It was so vivid and real she squeaked to fight sobs rising
in her throat.

Then she snapped her eyes shut and stilled.

Why would they take her and kill the others? Why not kill
her too?

If she had courage she’d ask about her clan’s fate. And
hers. But she wasn’t that brave. It was probably best not to worsen a bad
situation. They were known to burn people alive after having tortured them
.
She didn’t need to dwell on that until they tied her to the stake and lit the
fire.

She had only one option. Jump.

Then run for her life.

She closed her eyes and swallowed, then moaned, pretending
sleep. Cautiously she spun onto her hip, facing away from the Barbarian. His
grip loosened as if giving her room to maneuver and she used the split second
to position her hands on his thigh.

With her heart beating rapidly and pulse thumping, she gave
herself a swift push off his lap. His hand shot outward and he tried gripping
her as she slid down the horse’s bowed rib cage. Her feet hit the ground hard.
Her knees buckled and she rolled. The horse whinnied and rose on its hind legs
as the Barbarian yanked on its reins. Its front feet landed close to her head,
nearly crushing her. Gruff voices shouted as the others halted their mounts.
Through the commotion she sprang to her feet and ran for the forest. In there
she could increase her chances for survival, unlike the meadow where she had no
place to hide.

Her heartbeat raged out of control and her lungs were on
fire. Everything around her blurred as she ran. The sound of stampeding hooves
closed in at her back. She squealed and forced herself to increase speed. The
skin stretching along her thighs and the constant jarring of her tummy caused
immense pain but she forced herself to run through it. Then suddenly the
thundering hooves stopped. She wanted to look over her shoulder to see if the
Barbarians had backed off but she couldn’t afford to pause. The safety of the
trees stood only mere feet away. Just as she swung a branch aside and lunged
into the brush, she was grabbed from behind and hefted into the air.

She screamed and nearly fainted from fright. “Let me go,” she
shouted, flailing her arms and legs. “Please!” She kicked his knee so hard it
buckled and he stumbled. She didn’t regret it until he threw her upside down
over his shoulder and restrained her legs with his arm. Her hair tumbled
forward. If he wasn’t so tall it would’ve dragged along the ground. She
pummeled his back but it probably felt no harsher than tick bites.

The fur hide poked into the cuts on her belly and thighs but
she was too scared to feel any pain. How idiotic to think she might have gotten
away with outrunning a Barbarian. “You have no right to take me! I don’t belong
to you.”

“You’re my,” he bellowed, his voice an echoing roar inside
the headpiece, “possession now.”

Gut-wrenching fear stopped her heart.

Wisteria barely breathed and remained totally still while
being lowered and placed into another man’s arms. In fact she hadn’t moved at
all during the long trek to the feared Barbarian camp. He’d had his arms
wrapped so tightly around her rib cage while en route, her chest couldn’t fully
expand within the limited space to breathe. She couldn’t move even if she’d
tried. But she hadn’t tried. She knew better. From the rock-hardness of his
chest, flexed arms and heavy breathing, she realized the extent of his anger.
Maybe she should have thought about the ramifications of fleeing before trying
to outrun him.

“Where shall I take her?” the man holding her asked.

She looked into the face of a boar and sucked in a mouthful
of air to repress a scream.

“Hold her until I return.”

She glanced at the beast in the bison mask and froze as he
dismounted his horse and walked toward a large hut made of animal hides. He
disappeared behind the flap and she glanced around the area, her gaze slicing
through the scenery while searching for a way out. The huge camp was well
hidden within the forest walls. Tall trees bordered the entire perimeter except
for a wide path leading into the meadow.

The remaining men tied their horses to trees. As each was
secured, the tribesmen settled inside individual huts smaller than the huge
Barbarian’s.

Only a few people, one woman and two men, both wearing boar
headgear, sat around a fire that burned within a deep underground pit. A dark
pot hung over the fire from some type of frame with black bars. The woman was
weaving strips of leather together and didn’t miss a stitch when she looked up.
Her lids narrowed when she gazed at Wisteria as if curious about her presence
but she didn’t appear shocked that a strange woman had been carried into their
camp.

The woman had long black hair that shimmered in the
firelight. A piece of white fur resembling a rabbit’s foot hung from a leather
strap in her hair. Wisteria didn’t mean to stare but the woman was very
stunning. When their eyes met, Wisteria dropped her gaze to the ground.

“Put me down. Please,” Wisteria begged to the man holding
her like an infant. “I…I won’t run. I…I promise.”

“She’s right, Tyran. Put her down.”

Tyran?
The Barbarians had names?

“The chieftain fears she’ll escape,” he replied, his voice a
dull echo inside the mask. “She attempted it once already.”

“She tried to escape from the chieftain?” The woman glanced
as if Wisteria were maddened. “Stupid, stupid woman.”

Wisteria didn’t need to be reminded of her actions. Her ribs
still ached from the Barbarian holding her so tightly.

“Tie her to the stake,” the lady said, nudging her head
beyond the fire.

Wisteria’s heart lurched. She gulped and glanced over her
shoulder. A thick, charred tree stood tall above the ground. Leather straps
were tied around the trunk from top to bottom. Piles of ashes lay around the
base in a bed of stones.

Human ashes.

“Pl-please, no,” Wisteria nearly cried, frantically wrapping
her arms around Tyran’s shoulders and neck and interlocking her hands. “The
chieftain said to hold me.”

No one acknowledged her plea as she was carried to the tree
and set on her feet. Tyran gripped her wrist while he crouched and prepared a
lower strap, presumably for her ankles. And she swore the cinders were still
smoldering from the last person burned alive. Despite heat traveling through
her soles, her blood turned cold. If she didn’t flee now she may not get
another chance.

Whenever Tyran released her wrist to bind her legs, she’d
run. The big Barbarian wasn’t present and with her life in danger she could
outrun the others. Or try to. What choice did she have?

Beads of sweat pooled along her brows and she fisted her
hands. Her heartbeat accelerated while anticipating the moment Tyran would
loosen his grip, giving her a chance to break free. Just then the chieftain
stepped from his hut.

“Tyran,” he shouted. “What are you doing?”

Wisteria inwardly cringed at the roaring of his voice. Tyran
squeezed her wrist while slowly rising to his feet. He stepped behind her as if
using her as a shield as the chieftain approached, his stride long and
shoulders stiff. “Jade told me to tie her up, sir.”

“You disobeyed me?” The chieftain halted and turned on the
woman. “Who gave you the authority to issue orders?”

She cautiously set her weaving aside and stood, wringing her
hands. Her gaze lowered to the ground. “Tyran informed me she’d tried to
escape. I assumed she’d try again.”

“When have we ever acted on assumptions?”

“Never, sir.”

His shoulders rose then slightly dropped. “Return to your
craft,” he said, lowering his voice, the edge almost nonexistent.

Wisteria gulped as he approached. At her back, Tyran’s
breathing increased to an audible level. She couldn’t tell who was more
frightened, him or her.

The Barbarian stopped directly in front of her body. Despite
him tilting her face upward by the chin, she couldn’t see his eyes inside the
headpiece.

Suddenly he averted his attention over her head toward the
trees.

“Chieftain,” someone shouted. “Look!”

“I see it,” he responded, drawing a large blade from its
sheath at his side.

Tyran’s grip tightened around Wisteria’s wrist as she
reluctantly turned and glanced over her shoulder. A man from the flesh-eating
tribe wearing a pelt with human teeth strung around his hair wandered into the
camp. His face was tilted toward the ground and he walked slowly, as if he’d
been poisoned or drugged and had fallen into a stupor.

“Stay away from it,” the chieftain ordered. He cautiously
approached the Flesh Eater, stopping an arm’s reach away. It halted, its gaze
still lowered. The chieftain lifted its chin with the tip of his blade. “Who
sent you?” he asked.

“Who sent you?” the man repeated.

“His neck is covered in scales,” the chieftain shouted. “It’s
another mutant.”

“His neck is covered in scales,” the man mocked. “It’s
another mutant.”

A mutant? What’s a mutant?

Wisteria gulped as the chieftain lifted the blade. With a
quick overhand plunge he stabbed it into the man’s heart then quickly yanked it
free from his chest. Green liquid spurted from the wound but the Flesh Eater
made not a sound as he fell backward to the ground.

Green liquid?
Had his blood been tainted by poison?

Wisteria clamped her mouth shut to prevent screaming and
squeezed her eyes closed. Too soon she sensed the chieftain’s presence towering
nearby and she was overcome by acute shivers.

“Tyran, take the woman to my hut.” The order was addressed
in a normal, authoritative tone. “Never mind. Dissect what you need from the
mutant for your analysis then bury the rest.”

Wisteria’s eyes popped open.

“Jade?” the chieftain continued. The woman jumped up. “Bring
yarrow leaves for her wounds.”

Yarrow leaves? Overwhelmed with relief, Wisteria inhaled
sharply but before she released the air, the chieftain swept her off her feet
into his arms.

He carried her toward his hut, her body bouncing during each
long stride. Once inside he laid her on a fur hide. She skittered to her bottom
and backed up against the farthest wall. On the opposite side sat a small
in-ground fire pit surrounded by large rocks to contain the flames. A thin stream
of gray smoke floated from a pile of red embers and filtered through a large
hole cut in the roof. Despite the warmth, she still shivered. Rubbing
gooseflesh from her arms, she glared at the Barbarian.

“What will you do with me?” She’d never been secluded in
such a small area with a man. And remembering the feel of Vulcan’s large, hard
organ, she wondered if it’d be less painful to burn at the stake or be stabbed
rather than be rutted against her will by this heartless Barbarian.

“Whatever I choose,” he uttered.

She didn’t like the sound of that. At all. Especially having
just witnessed the Flesh Eater’s demise. “Why’d you take me from my home?”

The flap opened and Jade entered, carrying a handful of
leaves. “This should be plenty,” she said. “Shall I apply them now?”

The Barbarian folded his arms across his chest and nodded
once.

Jade knelt beside the pelt, laid the leaves down then rested
her hands on her thighs. “What is your name?”

“Wisteria.”

“These leaves will stop the bleeding and help the wounds
heal. Lie down.”

Wisteria couldn’t take her eyes off the chieftain, whose
arrogant stance now blocked the doorway. Still unable to locate his eyes inside
the mask, she sensed him glaring at her as she moved toward Jade and eased onto
her back.

Why were these Barbarians helping her? Was it their normal
protocol to treat their victims respectfully before ripping their hearts out?
Did they like to toy with their food before the kill?

She laid an arm across her forehead. Just as Jade removed a
chewed leaf from her mouth and placed it on Wisteria’s tummy, Wisteria
shuddered.

“I’m sorry,” Jade said. “Did I hurt you? The leaves are not
intended to cause additional pain.”

Wisteria shook her head. She knew the benefits of yarrow.
Her clan used it often. She even credited it to saving Boar’s life. She and Ivy
applied many leaves to his wounds when their father nearly clubbed him to death
the day their older sister Lily was captured by the Mountain Slayers. If Shale
hadn’t grabbed the club, Boar would be buried with their other siblings.

It wasn’t Boar’s fault Lily was slaughtered. Lily wanted to
learn how to spear fish so he’d taken her to the green lake. At the time he
wasn’t aware it belonged to the slayers and that it was forbidden from the
clan. There, they were overtaken by the mountain tribe. Boar was outnumbered
and fled for help. By the time Wisteria’s clansmen arrived, the slayers had
already shredded her sister to pieces. What remained lay in a puddle of blood
for the Flesh Eaters to discover. The slayers hadn’t burned her remains, which
meant they hadn’t considered her evil, but Wisteria wished they had. It seemed
more humane than leaving her to be fed upon.

Fortunately, before the cannibalistic tribe had a chance to
find Lily, Wisteria’s father gathered her remains and performed a proper
burial. It was the first time Wisteria ever witnessed him cry. Sadly he became
bitter on that fateful day and lost compassion for his remaining children. They
knew Lily had been his favorite.

Wisteria closed her eyes after Jade finished laying warm,
moist leaves on her tummy and began applying fresh ones on her legs.

She swore the Barbarian beast groaned when the woman
separated Wisteria’s thighs to treat a slash that traveled to the inside.

“Who whipped you?” Jade asked.

“I’d rather not discuss it.”

“Her people,” the chieftain replied.

Wisteria’s lashes fluttered open at the disgusted tone of
his voice. Jade was reaching forward to place a leaf but retracted her hand and
gazed into Wisteria’s eyes. “Your own people did this?” She glanced at the
Barbarian over her shoulder. “How did you come about her rescue?”

Rescue?
The Barbarians never rescued anyone. They
murdered people. As she’d seen with her own eyes moments ago.

“I followed her screams,” the man said then he pushed the flap
aside and stomped from the hut.

Jade laid the final leaf on Wisteria’s thigh, patted it into
place then stood. “Rest for a while. Before sunrise, Tyran and I will escort
you to the lake so you may wash away the blood.”

Wisteria nodded as the woman sauntered through the doorway
into the night. As her footsteps faded in the distance, Wisteria inhaled a
much-needed breath then glanced around the spacious area. The back wall
consisted of solid rock. The other three were comprised of dark animal hides. A
thin stream of water flowed along the rocks into a shallow pool where it
swirled then drained through a thin channel to someplace outside. A small ax
lay beside it along with a sharp, flat-bladed tool that looked as if it were
made from flint. It wasn’t much longer than her fingers but it looked effective
enough to fight off a monster-sized Barbarian, should the need arise.

Everyone knew the Barbarians mastered weaponry and she was
looking at proof of their skill. What would be said if she used his own weapon
to slash him to pieces? If he came near her, that’s exactly what she’d try to
do. Unlike her people who cowered when confronted, she’d fight.

Had Sledge’s accusations of deceit truly convinced them she
no longer belonged in their clan? Was that why they’d refused to help? No. She
couldn’t think those types of thoughts. She was feeling sorry for herself,
which affected her ability to think clearly. Everyone feared the Barbarians.
Why would her people risk their lives to protect her? She wasn’t sure they would’ve
helped had she not betrayed them. Even her father appeared frightened and might
not have stood up for her mother had she been threatened.

Were they even alive?

Wisteria blinked away tears. She couldn’t bear anything
happening to her mom or Ivy. Ivy had fought so hard for Wisteria’s life. Had
anyone defended her?

Stop it! You can’t think horrible thoughts right now.

She had to do something. She couldn’t go on, blinded by her
family’s fate.

Deep voices echoed outside. She held her breath and listened
as they drew near. She sprang across the hut, grabbed the weapon and returned
to the hide. Lying down on her side, she pulled her knees to her tummy and
clutched the handle.

The flap swooshed open. She snapped her eyes shut, feigning
sleep. She didn’t need to confirm it was
him
. She sensed his huge body
along with his gaze assessing her as he neared, the bottom of his fur scuffing
the ground.