Read It Sleeps in Me Online

Authors: Kathleen O'Neal Gear

It Sleeps in Me (18 page)

BOOK: It Sleeps in Me
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Is that what she was doing? Stringing together disconnected facts to make herself believe Flint had come back to her? Perhaps his death had affected her more than she realized?
Don’t be an idiot. You are not the problem. They are! They’ve had you on the run. What will happen if you suddenly turn around and charge? How far are they willing to take this?
She did exactly what Flint would have expected. She slid her hand beneath his shirt, gripped his manhood, and ran her hand up and down his limp shaft.
Rather than being shocked, as she would have expected Far Eye to be, he took her hand and squeezed it harder.
“The past few days have been agony for me,” he whispered. “In Far Eye’s young body my desires have been even more overwhelming.”
As he swelled in her hand, she studied his rapturous expression. He’d closed his eyes and was biting his lower lip, savoring the sensations.
“Straddle me, Sora.”
“No. People have risen. There are several men standing on the bank, fishing.”
“They’ll never know.”
“I can’t risk it.”
“Then use both hands. You know how I like it.” He picked up her other hand and secured it around his shaft. She squeezed and massaged, pulling him in a way she knew would bring him to ecstasy quickly.
“Yes. You’ve forgotten nothing.” He braced his hands on the log and leaned back with his face tipped to the dawn sky.
Though the clouds over the eastern horizon had begun to turn the color of ripe corn, the shore remained in shadow. Clumps of palmettos resembled still, crouching beasts.
Far Eye uttered deep-throated sounds at the height of each stroke of her hands. “Let me finish inside you? I beg you.”
“No,”
“Why are you tormenting me? Is it because of Skinner? I know he was your f-friend.”
A moment later, he trembled violently, and warm fluid spilled over her fingers.
She pulled her hands from beneath his shirt and cleaned them in the sand.
As she rose to leave, he grabbed her wrist.
“Let me go, Far Eye. Really. I must get back.”
“Not yet.”
He slid off the log to the ground and forcibly dragged her down onto his lap. In the dim light, with the log shielding his back, the only thing that might be visible was Sora’s upper torso.
“Do you remember this?” he asked in a teasing voice as he curled his legs around her hips and crossed his ankles over her knees. His left hand found her breast while his right hand reached beneath her dress.
When he pinched what the Black Falcon People called a woman’s “little manhood,” she gasped and tried to rise.
“Sora, stop fighting me.”
“It will take too long. Someone will see.”
“No one will see, and I plan to make it last as long as I can.” He bit her neck.
In a curiously similar fashion to the way she had just pleasured him, he held her little manhood between his thumb and forefinger and gently pulled it up, then pushed it down, working it as she had, only instants ago, worked him. As his fingers rhythmically caressed her, she felt her fears draining away, being replaced by the creeping warmth.
In her ear, he murmured, “I remember the first time I did this to you. Your mother had invited my parents to a feast to celebrate our coming marriage. We were sitting outside around the fire; everyone was laughing and talking. I sat down behind you and enfolded you in my cape. People thought I was just keeping you warm. My parents kept demanding that I participate in the conversation. It wasn’t easy. I could feel you quaking beneath my hand.”
She stiffened. How could he know that? What a wonderful sensual spring that had been. Though they were often surrounded by people, they had pleasured each other countless times.
“I loved you so much,” she cautiously said.
She leaned her head back against his shoulder, and he massaged her breast and kissed her. While his lower hand grew rougher his tongue darted in and out of her mouth.
He whispered against her lips, “I tried very hard to make you love your body, Sora.”
He let go of her breast and pulled something from his belt pouch. As he smoothed his hand down her side, she wondered what it was. He tugged her dress up higher and used his fingers to probe her opening.
“You’re ready.” He smiled against her cheek, then touched her with the object’s tip. It felt cool and silken.
“What is it?”
“You’ve seen it before. Soon, you’ll remember. It’s carved from an ancient bone.”
In time with the rhythm of his right hand caressing her little manhood, he thrust the object in and out of her. The deeper he pushed it, the larger it got. It must be cone-shaped.
“You’ll have to lean back more for me to get it all the way inside you.”
She sank against him, letting him position her, and to her surprise, he lowered her body to the sand behind the log. She found herself lying flat on her back staring at the reflection of the water dancing over green sycamore leaves high above her.
After she had listened to Feather Dancer and Rockfish, nothing Far Eye could have said would have convinced her he truly was Flint.
But this
…
He shifted positions, releasing her little manhood for a time so he could work the cone. It was long and thick at the base; it took time to push it all the way inside her. When he’d finally tucked it in, he bent and took her little manhood in his mouth. As he stroked it with his tongue, he pushed on the cone. If he met resistance, he slowed down, waiting until her inner muscles gave way before he rhythmically forced it deeper. As the wave of heat rose in her body,
she could feel his fingers inside her moving the cone. She moaned like she hadn’t in more than three winters.
“Yes, you love this. I know you do.” He bit her little manhood, and her body convulsed in throes of ecstasy. She lay on the sand thrashing senselessly, not caring who might see or hear her.
When it was over and she lay panting, staring wide-eyed up at him, he gave her a passionate kiss and untied his waist sash. “I know you have the meeting with Sea Grass at noon. I’m going to leave the cone inside you. I want you thinking of me when those old women are squawking at you.”
She had barely the strength to raise herself on her elbows to watch him pass the red sash between her legs, then tie it around her waist. Her inner muscles were still periodically clenching around the cone, sending shivers through her.
“Flint?”
He looked at her.
“What are we going to do?”
He heard the fear in her voice, sank down beside her, and gathered her in his arms. “Run away with me, Sora. I asked you before. I’m asking you again. Run away with me before it’s too late.”
She stared into his pleading eyes and wondered what would happen next. Either he would find her somewhere alone, or she would go looking for him. Eventually the whispers would start:
“She’s coupling with Far Eye now. Gods, doesn’t Matron Wink care about the Shadow Rock Clan! The chieftess must be exposed and banished! Someone must tell Rockfish.”
She buried her face against his shoulder and forced herself to think.
SHE DID NOT ARRIVE HOME FOR ANOTHER FOUR HANDS OF time. Flint had taken her deep into the forest, where they’d talked about the coming meeting with Water Hickory Clan. He’d suggested a strategy, but she wasn’t certain she could go through with it. When she did get back to her bedchamber, she had less than half a hand of time to dress and prepare for what she expected would be a barrage of unpleasant questions.
Rockfish, thankfully, was gone. She hadn’t seen him when she’d crossed the plaza, but he could be anywhere, talking with Feather Dancer or Teal. Even Wink.
A few red coals glowed beneath the bed of ash in the fire pit, giving the room a soft crimson gleam. She crossed to her clothing basket and hastily stripped off her soiled dress. When she tossed it to the floor, she stared at the red sash around her waist. She considered removing it and taking out the cone … but she didn’t. It made her feel curiously alive.
She pulled out a blue dress covered with tiny circlets of conch shell and slipped it over her head. It had an iridescent quality. As she ran her hands down over her hips, she noticed that the knot of
Flint’s sash bulged at her waist. She searched her basket for her white sash and tied it right above the knot, so the trailing ends covered any sign of it.
Picking up her copper-inlaid wooden comb, she went to the mica mirror that hung on the wall over Rockfish’s basket. Round, and three hands across, it gave her a good view of herself. Twigs and old leaves filled her snarled hair. She quickly combed it clean, then plaited her hair into a single braid. After she’d washed her face, she headed for Wink’s house.
People filled the plaza. Dye pots bubbled around the base of Wink’s mound. Sassafras made the yellow, maple twigs the black, dodder the orange, and dog-tail weed the dark red dye. Six old gray-haired women sat on cattail mats beside the pots. They lowered bundles of thread into the boiling dyes, left them for a few hands of time, then hung them to dry on pole racks behind the pots. The most important animal fiber used in fabrics was buffalo wool. But it was expensive and the supply unreliable, and oppos-sum hair proved almost as good. Mulberry and cane fibers were also highly prized. Her people cut shoots four or five feet tall, stripped off the bark and dried them, then beat them into soft fibers that they bleached and spun into thread.
Rockfish stood at the door. His brows knit when he saw her crest the last stair. He’d pulled his gray hair away from his triangular face and tied it in back with a cord. He wore a bright yellow shirt that hung to his knees. A wealth of shell beads covered the front and encircled the hem.
“I was getting worried,” he whispered. “What took you so long?”
“I went for a walk. I needed to think.”
“Was Far Eye with you? When I woke and found you gone, I immediately went to Feather Dancer. He said Far Eye was—”
“Yes, he was with me. Feather Dancer threatened his life if he didn’t accompany me everywhere I went.”
“Good.” Rockfish gave her a relieved smile and slipped his arm through hers. “Are you ready?”
Sora clutched his arm tightly. “As ready as I will ever be.”
They entered the house and walked down the corridor arm in arm. Voices drifted from the council chamber. When they ducked beneath the curtain, a strange hush fell over the room. Every eye turned to stare. The room was packed. Twenty warriors stood against the walls, their expressions hard, as though waiting for their matron’s signal to club someone to death.
That someone is me.
Ten torches burned in their wall holders, and the central fire blazed. Wink, Wood Fern, Sea Grass, and an unknown man sat on three of the four benches that created a square around the fire. Sora and Rockfish went to the fourth bench.
As she sat down, Sora looked straight at Sea Grass. The old woman had her white hair twisted into a bun on top of her head. Her thin face and beaked nose looked sallow, as though all the color had been leached out.
Wink passed around a conch shell filled with sacred Black Drink to consecrate the council meeting. Everyone took a sip of the bitter brew and passed it on.
When the shell had made its way back to Wink and she set it on the bench beside her, she said, “Let us begin. Chieftess Sora, as the accused, you have the right to first words.”
Sora nodded. “Matron Sea Grass, forgive me. I know you must be heartbroken, as I am. Your son was one of my dearest friends. I loved him, too.”
“Did you kill him?” Her dark eyes narrowed.
“I honestly don’t know. He was choking me and I fainted. When I woke I was lying in the temple. But I’m sure you know that. Wink and Teal—”
“They told me my son was carrying the shadow-soul of his best friend and that it was Flint who tried to kill you.” She laced her gnarled old hands in her lap. “Is that what you think happened?”
Sora squeezed Rockfish’s arm and released it. It had been Skinner who’d tried to kill her, but she didn’t want to tell Sea Grass that.
First of all, the old woman wouldn’t believe her. But more important, it would raise questions Sora didn’t want to answer. “Yes.”
Sea Grass inhaled a deep breath and exhaled hard through her nose. “Why didn’t you try to run away?”
“Run away? I have responsibilities. I couldn’t run away.”
“So you chose to stay, even though you knew a wicked shadow-soul was pursuing you. Why do you think Flint would wish to kill you?”
Sora frowned. “Pardon me?”
“Why would Flint wish to kill you?”
She made an airy gesture with her hand. “Shadow-souls are evil. They—”
“Could it be that he hated you?”
“Hated me?”
“Yes. I knew Flint well. I watched him grow up. He was a good-natured, conscientious man. He would not have taken over my son’s body without a powerful reason. The only reason I can think of is that he wanted to get his hands around your throat. Why?”
Sora stared at Sea Grass. The old woman’s nostrils quivered in rage. “Divorces are often difficult, Sea Grass. Perhaps he never got over—”
“He divorced you, Sora. Not the other way round. He was getting on with his life. I’d never seen him so happy. When he left Oak Leaf Village to go and meet his bride-to-be, he was as joyous as a fifteen-winters-old boy.”
Rockfish subtly stiffened beside her. The hand resting on his knee tightened into a fist. Wink must not have told him about White Fawn. But of course she wouldn’t have. She’d see that as an irrelevant detail.
“What are you saying, Sea Grass? That I must have done something to provoke Flint into wanting to kill me?”
“Did you?”
“I hadn’t seen him in more than three winters. How could I have?”
Wink glanced back and forth between Sora and Sea Grass; then her sharp eyes went to Wood Fern. The matron of Wood Hickory Clan sat perfectly still, her nearly blind gaze fixed on Sora, but her mouth had puckered. She looked like she longed to say something.
As the tension rose, Sora could feel herself tightening around the cone. A pleasant sting began to filter through her loins.
He loved me. He
still
loves me.
“Where were you fourteen days ago, Chieftess? I’ve asked around Blackbird Town. People tell me you were gone.”
“Yes. I went to negotiate with Chief Blue Bow for the release of
your villagers,
Sea Grass. I had a party of thirty warriors with me. Any one of them will verify—”
“That you ordered them to camp outside Eagle Flute Village while you and Walking Bird went in to see Blue Bow alone. Yes, I’ve spoken to several people.”
“Entering the village with heavily armed warriors would have been provocative. By leaving them outside and entering with a single guard I—”
“An act of good faith? A way of showing Blue Bow you were at his mercy?”
Softly, she answered, “Yes.”
“Well,” Sea Grass said curtly, “when he arrives, I will ask Chief Blue Bow about that, but in the meantime, I wish to ask you straightly if you killed White Fawn.”
Skinner’s frantic voice seeped from between her souls:
“How did you kill her? Did you slip something into her food? Did you hire someone to do it?”
Rockfish turned to stare at her. She didn’t look at him, but she could feel the silent accusation. Wood Fern and Wink didn’t seem to be breathing. Around the room, the warriors shifted uneasily.
The cone seemed to be growing inside her, filling her like Flint’s manhood did. It gave her strength. “Why would I do that? I remarried long ago. I couldn’t have cared less what Flint was doing.”
“Indeed?” Sea Grass’ voice turned deadly. “White Fawn was very
beautiful, and young. Fifteen winters. When you were married to Flint, your jealousies were well-known. Every time my son returned home from visiting Flint, he carried a new story of your wild rages.”
Blood pulsed in her veins. Skinner had gone home with stories about
her
rages? Things Flint had told him? Perhaps, unknown to her, Skinner had been the most jealous of the three of them.
Her loins began to pulse as though the cone were moving inside her, swelling and shrinking in time with her heartbeat. As her arousal increased, a strange clarity possessed her; she knew what she had to do. Flint was right. There was only one way to ensure all doubts would be wiped from people’s hearts.
Sora rose to her feet and, with great dignity, said, “I grieve for the loss of your son, Matron. Everyone tells me that I must have killed him, so I accept the responsibility.”
She walked across the floor, knelt before Sea Grass, and touched her forehead to the matron’s sandals. “In front of these witnesses, I offer my own life to you. Though I know it can never compensate you for your loss, perhaps my death will ease your pain and the pain of your clan.”
Rockfish lurched to his feet. “Sora, no!”
“It is already done, my husband.” She looked up into Sea Grass’ wrinkled face and saw a sudden indecision enter her eyes.
With a frail old hand, Sea Grass touched Sora’s head. “You would do this to keep peace between our clans?”
“I would. I assume you will give me the customary twenty-eight days to conclude my affairs.”
Sea Grass hesitated for an uncomfortably long time before saying, “I must discuss this with my clan.”
“Of course.”
Sora glimpsed Wink’s face from the corner of her eye. Her friend had gone pale enough that Sora feared she might faint.
Wink rose to her feet. “As matron of the Shadow Rock Clan, I stand behind this offering. Peace is all we have ever sought.”
Wood Fern leaned sideways, cupped a hand to Sea Grass’ ear,
and whispered something. Sea Grass nodded. “Matron Wink, we ask for a few days to make our final decision about this offering.”
“Granted.”
As Sora started to stand, Wink walked over, gripped her arm, and helped her up.
“When you are ready, send word,” Wink said. “Shadow Rock Clan will help you in any way it can.”
Wood Fern and Sea Grass nodded.
Wink slipped an arm around Sora’s waist, as though to support her, and guided Sora into the hallway. When the curtain fell closed behind them, she stared at Sora with wide, disbelieving eyes.
“Why did you
do
that?” she hissed.
“I had to, Wink. There was no other way.”
A din of hushed conversations broke out in the council chamber. Rockfish calmly said something to Sea Grass that Sora couldn’t understand, but she heard Sea Grass say, “I understand that. We will take it into consideration.”
A few heartbeats later, Rockfish ducked into the hall with a dire look on his face and whispered, “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
BOOK: It Sleeps in Me
7.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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