Primitive Nights (28 page)

Why was he telling her this? Her heart broke for the lovers.

“Gorhet’s father laughed at his son’s tears, told him he was weak then left him with his dead lover. Gorhet felt hatred in his heart unlike anything he had ever known. He could not live without her and so he plunged a knife deep into his own heart.

“The new
Bajluk
Maglayo gave their leader and the two lovers a proper burial. They were laid to rest alongside each other and the ground marked as sacred. A great war raged for a hundred years between Maglayos and Hountas, until a young warrior stumbled upon the marked grove. He entered, lured by the legend of the lovers. Unable to describe what he witnessed, the warrior ran away only to return with others.”

Damon paused, his eyes bright as he stared out over the land and river. Myla waited, her heart racing.

“The others were surprised as well, but then the oldest of their tribe entered the grove. His wisdom was widely known, and all respected him. He spoke of the tragic deaths of the father, the daughter and the son of the enemy. He spoke of the love that could have brought them together. Then he pointed to the flowers that grew over the burial place. He said the flowers were never seen unless true love bloomed along with them.”

Myla sucked in a startled breath. How romantic.

Damon crouched before her in the canoe. “You see, the flower that bloomed in that grove was
bochinii
, the same flower Cuklho used for your cream. The flowers bloomed after you arrived in our tribe.”

Her heart skipped. Oh to believe in such a simple sign. “Damon, you can’t think—”

He stood again and pushed the paddle through the water. “The
bochinii
have not bloomed for over fifty years.”

Myla’s mind raced but she held silent, fingering the small knot that held her bag closed.

Great. Once again, he considered her presence an omen.

Damon watched her as she slept. She would be sore from the way she was crumpled in the front of the canoe, her neck turned at an awkward angle. He slid forward and settled her against one of the bags they had brought with them.

She burrowed into his hand, and a small smile turned the corners of her mouth. He wondered what she dreamt. Settling back, he brought the paddle back through the water.

After the day’s journey, he was glad she slept. The currents of the river had drawn them through the rapids with brutal strength, and she had done an admirable job helping to keep them from smashing into the rocks. Seiret had trained her well on their previous trip, but his mother’s age had slowed their progress significantly. She could not handle the rigorous travel without stopping for rest. Too, Seiret had not had the benefit of another’s help, and the other canoe had sustained enough damage to warrant a stop for repairs.

It had taken longer than he had hoped and traveling the river at night made him nervous. Now that Myla and sickness had bridged a tentative peace with the Hountas, there was little more than the rapids to concern him. Before the next section of hard water, he planned to stop and camp for the night.

He glanced across to Seiret’s canoe. His mother slept as well. At her advanced years, the traveling would be difficult. Mindful of her weakness, he tried to keep the pace slower than he would have liked, and still her exhaustion showed less than midway through the day.

Seiret called out quietly. “Will we stop or travel on with the moon?”

Damon pointed to a small inlet ahead. “There.”

The other canoe sliced across the water and slid into the small cove. Seiret jumped from his boat and walked over when Damon came close. “The women are tired. Your mother did well.”

“Yes, they both showed great resilience today.” He clapped Seiret on the shoulder. “But you must be worn as well. Sleep first. I will watch over us for now.”

The other man’s exhaustion was evident in the slow drag of his feet through the water. He collapsed on the rocky shore and pillowed his arms under his head. Within moments, Damon could see the slow rise and fall of his chest.

After securing the canoes, he let the women remain sleeping and sat down on a large boulder. There was nowhere better for them to rest, and in case they had to make a quick departure, they would already be prepared to go.

Leaning back, he looked up at the sky. Millions of small stars shone down around the moon. Bright flashes arced across the sky to disappear over the trees, and he wondered where those stars went. Did they fizzle out, or find a new place to rest?

Like his tribe. His people would start the journey to their new home as soon as those remaining were well enough to travel. Seiret and his mother had returned from the Hountas with devastating news of innumerable deaths there as well. He hoped
Bajluk
Hounta would agree to move. Enemy or not, the Hountas would die if they remained.

With the loss of so many in each of their tribes, Damon hoped for a new alliance.

“What are you doing, Damon?”

Damon hurried over to where Myla called out to him. “Sleep. We have stopped for the night.”

She sat up in the canoe and looked around. “How far do we have left to travel?”

“Several hours still.”

“Damon, that won’t work.” She grabbed his hand. “If you insist that I can’t go alone, then we have to arrive while it’s dark. That’s the only way I will be able to get you to my home without attracting too much attention.”

“We will wait.” Her concern was valid. Not enough to alter his choice. “Decisions can be made when we arrive.”

If there were more men waiting to harm Myla, he would take every precaution to keep her safe.

“Aren’t you tired?” She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.

Brushing her hair back from her face, he ran his knuckles over her cheek. “I will rest later while Seiret watches over us. Sleep now. The waters will be rough tomorrow. You will need your strength again.”

“I’m not the one who does all the work.” Her lips turned up in a small smile as she pushed up from the canoe. “Come over here and sit. I want to do something for you.”

He walked over and sat where she indicated. The rocky shore was hard beneath him and he shifted for a moment to find a comfortable position. When her hands moved over the tight muscles in his shoulders, he leaned back against the rock behind him.

Her soft voice whispered over his ear. “This is a massage. It will loosen the muscles that have been strained by the physical exertions you put them through today.”

With the way her fingers worked over the lines of his neck, shoulders and arms, he did not care what it was called, so long as she kept doing it. “It feels very good.”

The pressure of her fingers working over each tight, sore muscle relaxed him. Silence ensued around them. There was nothing but the rushing of the water. “Why did you tell me that story, Damon?”

He reached up to stall her hands and pulled her around before him. “Come sit with me.”

She knelt down, and he brought her into his lap. “You do not see anything past what your world has taught you. The way you live has jaded you to the possibilities that come from making your own choices and believing in something higher than yourself.”

“I believe in God and the path that is laid out for me. If it is meant to be, then it will be.”

“And do you believe that we were put together, to feel what we feel, and share what we have shared, for this short time only? Or is it possible, we must find a way to be together?”

She shrugged before nestling into his arms. “I don’t know. My heart says it is possible, but my head—when I think of what each of us would have to sacrifice. It seems like too much. I only know that I will miss you.”

He pulled her closer, burying his nose in her soft hair. “Sleep, Myla. We will see where our paths take us.”

Chapter Twenty

Myla ducked low behind the hedge bordering the small house. It was nearly dark, and if she didn’t hurry, Damon would come crashing out of the trees to find her.

The old lady finally made her way back inside, and Myla reached up to snatch a pair of jeans and a shirt from the clothesline. They looked close to Damon’s size. Even if they weren’t, they would have to do for now. A blue dress hung closer to the house. Perfect for Michelle.

Stealing clothes from the elderly. She’d sunk to an all-time low. Ignoring the pangs of guilt, she grabbed the clothes and ran for the cover of the trees.

She made a fair thief. At least physically. The mental guilt police would force her to pay the people back somehow.

Damon chuckled when she dropped the garments at his feet a few minutes later. “You did well, Myla.”

She smiled, trying to slow her breathing. “Get dressed.” After scooping up the dress, she walked over to Michelle. “Here. I hope it will fit relatively well.”

Michelle took the dress. “Go help Damon. He’ll be an hour if left to his own. I’ll change over there.”

Myla turned back to find Damon holding the jeans up, eyebrows furrowed. It was difficult not to laugh at his confusion. “Put your legs through these holes, then button the top like mine.”

Seiret chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder before walking away. Damon slipped his sarong free and held the jeans out. He stood perfectly naked, without embarrassment, his expression doubtful. “Is this necessary?”

“I’m afraid so.” She moved closer, unable to keep her eyes off him. “Put them on, then I’ll help you with your shirt.”

He did, cringing as the coarse fabric slid higher on his legs. “I do not like this.”

This time, she couldn’t control a little laugh. “No, I don’t suppose you do.”

When he finally pulled them up to his hips, she laughed. The jeans sagged around his trim waist by four inches. She slipped the button into place for him. “You only have to wear them until we can find a place to stay for the night. As soon as we have a room, you can strip down to nothing again.”

She picked the shirt up and held it open. He eyed the garment with disdain but held out his arms so she could slip it on for him. “This is not as bad as the leg coverings.”

She moved to stand in front of him and buttoned the shirt, hoping he didn’t notice the way her fingers shook. In a few moments, they would leave the safety of the jungle. The thought jarred her. When had his world become the safe place? Smoothing her fingers over the fabric, she forced a smile. “You look very handsome. Let’s see if your mother is ready.”

He walked awkwardly for the first few minutes and stopped several times to adjust himself. Michelle met them a moment later, and with modern clothing, she looked very much the everyday woman.

Myla glanced at both of them. “You have to do exactly as I say, no matter what.”

Damon smiled. “You are the boss?”

With a quick wave to Seiret, who would stay with the canoes, she nodded. “That’s right. Now let’s go.”

Damon paced.

First her cramped apartment, now the small room Myla said they needed to stay in until they could meet with her council. Too much information and new knowledge jumbled around inside his head. He had names and actual objects to all the descriptions his mother had given him over the years. Nothing felt right, nothing felt safe or normal. His nerves were on alert.

He closed his eyes and lay back on the bed. There was too much to see. Too much to learn and discover. If he was not careful, this bed would swallow him. He had never encountered anything so soft.

Mother had left to find food, and Myla was in a smaller room where water sprayed from the wall. A shower, if he recalled correctly. Inside that same room, was the toilet, which Myla had explained was used when he needed to relieve himself. The sound and disappearance of the water had intrigued him, but Myla had not shared his enthusiasm with the odd contraption.

She had yet to become frustrated with him or his constant inquiries. He tried to quell his excitement and asked his mother numerous questions as well, hoping not to bother Myla. The strain of worry was beginning to show in the dark circles beneath her eyes and the scored furrow at her brow.

He looked around the room again. Myla’s computer sat on a table near the window. A long, black rope attached it to the wall, and the contraption kept making strange noises. Along the other wall was a large box with numerous buttons. Myla had said it was the TV, and he was highly curious.

He sat up. She had said to push the button. He crossed the room—but which one? There were too many. He pushed several. Nothing happened. The box clicked after numerous tries, then a bright blue light appeared across the front.

He was about to press another when the water in the other room shut off. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited, running his hands over the cloth covering his legs. Since it would be necessary to wear clothing for several days, he had decided not to take them off yet. It would help his discomfort to try to get used to them.

Though he found it hard to imagine ever enjoying the clothes.

Myla stepped into the room. “Hey. What are you doing?”

He shrugged. “I was going to see the TV, but it took forever for me to produce this blue light.”

She had a towel wrapped around her head and another around her body. The end of the towel barely covered the curve of her bottom as she walked to the TV, presenting a much better view than anything he might see on the box.