Primitive Nights (21 page)

Damon moved to stand next to her, his hand slipping into hers as she spoke. Without his presence, she wouldn’t have been able to stand here, to say the things she needed to say to these men.

“You have invaded the lands of neighboring tribes. For what? Was it for food, to protect yourselves? Have you never fought because you wanted the land that would sustain your people?”

She waited for Damon to relay her question and a ray of hope burgeoned when one of the elders nodded.

“Then you must understand. These men who wish to take your land do it for the same reason. They want the riches beneath the soil, which might mean nothing to you, but hold immeasurable worth to them. It would give them the means to provide for their families for years to come.”

The man who sat in the middle held his hand up. His voice was strong, a sharp contrast to his bent, wrinkled body. Damon turned to her. “He says you have said nothing they do not already know. But with every war waged against another tribe, our ancestors fought back bravely, with honor.”

Myla nodded and turned to the man who spoke. “Do you believe they would have, knowing there was no way for them to win? That every man, woman and child would perish? That the tide of the enemy would never end?”

The old man did not look at Damon but held her gaze with steady, intelligent eyes. He nodded, though somewhat uncertainly.

She moved forward. “And if they had another option? A choice that they could hold on to their way of life, if they only accepted the help of people who wanted to offer that?”

He nodded again and spoke to Damon. Myla waited, the inflection in his words once again fanning the soft whispers of hope she harbored. Damon‘s voice joined his then. “He says a good leader would weigh all options. He would not dismiss that which was good for his people. But a good leader would also refuse to let his people be led by deceit and lies. That is all the white man has brought us. Lies, death, illness.”

Myla took a deep breath. “I know. But it took a long time before what was happening to your tribe was brought to the attention of people who wished to help. People like me, who want to stop these men. They create a legacy for my people that shames me.”

Here was the turning point. These were the facts she had to make them understand. “You banish a person when they shame you, but this does not happen in my world. Bad men and women are sent to jail, prison where they must serve a punishment for the crimes and shame they cause. It takes time for the good people to find the bad ones.”

She held her hands out. “It has taken the good people too long to discover the bad, and your tribes have suffered for it. But we are helping now. We have protected your land and your people without your knowledge. And there is land. Free, unchanged, protected, where you can live without fear of the men who have harmed you and invaded your lands.

“But I can only help you if you choose to trust me.”

Damon ran his thumb over her fingers and she looked up at him. He finished translating her words and they waited together in silence.

One of the old men spoke again and Myla’s heart pounded against her chest. All the calm she’d managed to create evaporated with his few short words. The sudden deafening rush in her ears muffled Damon’s voice and she had to strain to hear him.

“He wants to know what you are asking from us.”

Myla smiled. “Damon must come with me to speak to the government officials.” She stopped and tried to think of a way to explain, but Damon spoke instead.

He slid her a quick smile. “I told them you have a larger council of wise men and they call themselves a government.”

Silence weighed heavy in the hut. Her senses were on highest alert, and the scents of the jungle she’d come to know filled her. Dust particles floated through the sunshine that showed through the windows of the hut, and the happy laughter of children drifted in from outside.

“He must come with me and give witness to what these white men have done. Then the government will understand and let you move to this land of protection.”

Damon repeated her words and when the man who sat in the center of the line of elders stood, Damon pulled her forward. “Myla, this is Goloruk. He is my great uncle, and the wisest of the council.”

Myla bowed her head in respect. A respect she felt to her core for a man who’d survived for untold years in a harsh world filled with evil. “Goloruk, it is an honor.”

The old man squinted up into her eyes. “You wish—” he glanced at Damon, “—
mejgu
?”

Damon nodded. “Help.”

Goloruk turned back to her. “You wish help my people.” The deeply ridged lids of his eyes hung low over his pupils. “Why?”

“Because you are a brother, father, great uncle to me as well.”

Damon repeated her statement and Goloruk stared a moment longer before moving away. As one, the rest of the elders also turned away.

Myla didn’t know what to expect, but when Damon bowed, muttered a few words and pulled her from the hut, she followed eagerly. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air as they emerged, she turned to him. “What now?”

He smiled, his eyes shifting to the jungle around them. “We must wait.”

Myla crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell me?” His slight smirk told her he had more to say. “Tell me. Do you think they will agree?”

He nodded, and without warning picked her up and swung her in a circle before pressing his lips to hers. Her laughter echoed around them, and when Damon finally released her, several children had come close to watch their leader and his antics.

Damon spoke to them and one of the little girls walked over to Myla. She pointed at the beads around her neck. Damon pulled her to his side. “She recognizes your beads.”

He chucked the little girl beneath the chin and said something that made the girl smile. Myla watched the girl run off and pressed her hand to his chest. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her you were a sister to Hounta. That you were my brave angel.”

She slipped her hands up and around his neck and ran her fingers over the taut muscles to snuggle into his embrace. “When will the council decide?”

“Tonight.”

She couldn’t contain a groan. Night was still hours away. The soft tickle of his lips across her ear sent shivers down her spine, and she stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “What should we do until then?”

His arms tightened around her waist. “A bath?”

“Mmmm. With you?”

He nodded and scooped her into his arms. She didn’t care that his people stared as they passed. There was no shame in wanting him. She felt no embarrassment knowing his people probably knew what they would do together. She would take every moment with him and enjoy it to the fullest.

Damon leaned back against the rocks of the shallow pool and let his eyes wander over her body. She smiled before disappearing beneath the surface. When she came up for air, the shadows from the trees danced over her skin. The scent of hibiscus filled the air, and the warmth of the water against his feet soothed the aches of their lengthy travel.

He enjoyed the pleasure she experienced. “You are more lovely than the most brilliant flower.”

“Ummm. Was that flattery?”

She stood, water pouring down over her skin in rivulets that drew his gaze. The water reached only to midthigh, revealing her naked body to his hungry gaze. “Flattery? What is this?”

He pushed away from the rocks and stepped down into the water. “It means to say something nice to someone.” He was ready to nod when she added, “Usually with the intent to gain something wanted.”

Her eyes were dark, hungry. He recognized the signs of her desire. “I said it because it is the truth, not to gain what I want. I already have that.”

“Do you?” She turned away and scooped handfuls of water over her shoulders.

He moved closer to run his fingers down the long column of her spine. Reaching around her waist, he splayed his hand over her belly and pulled her back against him. “Yes.” He whispered the word along her neck, taking her shudders against his body and held her tight when she would have turned. “And I want you to stay with me.”

“I wish—” Her voice cracked. “I wish there was a way. If I remain here, there is no one else to tell of InterCorp’s crimes. Your people will suffer and eventually die.”

Her words were true, and yet… “You will be in danger, far away, where I cannot protect you.” He pressed his lips to her neck. “But I cannot leave my people.”

She turned and pressed her cheek to his chest, her hands sliding up and down his back. The sharp tips of her fingernails bit into his skin but there was no pain, only fierce need that boiled through his blood, setting fire to every portion of his body.

“Make love to me.” Her lips met his, and he inhaled her whispered plea.

He crushed her to him, desperate for her touch. The sadness he saw in her eyes matched the heaviness that surrounded his heart. No matter what the elders decided, he would lose her.

“Maglayo! Maglayo!”

Damon turned when the panicked voice of a child came to them. Pushing Myla behind him, he faced the direction the voice had come from and called out. Siyda rushed down over the embankment and skidded to a stop before him, his small chest heaving with his ragged breaths.

He grasped the boy’s shoulders. “Siyda, what is wrong?”

“Come. You must come quickly. There is sickness.”

“Go! Tell my mother.”

Siyda’s expression fell. “It is your mother, Maglayo.”

The boy rushed off then, and Myla walked around to stand before him, concern arching her eyebrows. “Damon, what’s happening?”

“My mother is ill.” He climbed from the pool, wrapping his cloth around his hips.

Myla followed and started to pull her clothes on. “Go, Damon. I’ll be right there. Have someone heat water and make sure there is plenty of clean water for her to drink.” She yanked on her pants as she spoke. “Go!”

Chapter Fifteen

Her fever was high.

Myla took her hand away from Michelle’s head and sat back to meet Damon’s worried expression. “We need to keep her cool. Have Seiret bring more water and fruit, anything we can squeeze the juice from will help keep fluids inside her body.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Go and check on the others as well. You can see your mother later.”

Damon left the hut reluctantly and she couldn’t have been more grateful for his absence. Since they’d returned from the spring pools, he’d hovered over his mother with terror in his eyes. She didn’t blame him, but he was more in the way than a help at the moment.

Dipping a cloth through the bucket of cool water next to Michelle’s cot, she wiped at the older woman’s forehead. “Michelle? Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I hurt all over.” Her soft voice cracked. “My head hurts as well.”

“Any other symptoms?”

“I cannot hold anything down.”

Myla’s concern grew. There were so many reasons she could be sick, but the flu could spread through the entire camp. “For how long now?”

Michelle attempted to shrug. “A couple of days. I thought it was bad food—” Her gaze lifted to the ceiling. “Oh, God. What have I done?”

“You can’t help becoming sick, Michelle.” The older woman tried to sit up, and Myla held her down to the cot. “Please, you have to rest.”

“No. Don’t you see? I brought this sickness here.” She licked her dry lips. “I helped Tinjtol. We brought the men’s belongings here.”

Myla shook her head, confused. “What men?”

“Some men he killed. InterCorp men.” Michelle grabbed her hand and the temperature of the touch scared Myla as much as the woman’s admission. “One of them was sick, but Tinjtol didn’t tell me until after we’d brought all their things back.”

Terror raced through Myla. If the men were sick and Tinjtol’s exposure to Michelle had given her the illness, anyone else they came in contact with could have been exposed as well. The people of the tribe, the Hountas…Damon.

Seiret pushed through the fronds suddenly, and Myla jumped to her feet. She couldn’t speak to the man, but there had to be a way to make him understand. “Where is Maglayo?” She held her hands up and pointed, repeating, “Where. Maglayo?”

He looked down at Michelle and spoke to her. Michelle’s gaze held Myla’s and she could see the panic there. “He’s gone to the Hountas. To warn them of the sickness. It is his fault, his weakness. His need to save even our enemies. His kindness will get him killed.”

Myla paced. What was she going to do? If the Hountas were ill, it was only a matter of time before the sickness ran rampant through Damon’s tribe. Sitting back and waiting wasn’t an option. She turned to Seiret and placed the cloth in his hand. “Wash.”

He stared at her in confusion so she pulled him over to Michelle’s cot and grabbed his hand. She showed him how to keep her cool then said to Michelle, “Tell your son I’ve gone for help.”

Michelle shook her head. “No. He will be furious.”

“Probably no more so than I am at finding out he went to the Hountas after they nearly killed us.” There was no helping it. If there was potential for an epidemic, the tribes would need medicine, food, fluids. She had to go back to E.I. and get supplies. Waiting for Damon wasn’t an option. “I’ll be back. I promise.”