The Last Sundancer (38 page)

Denoa did not understand why
Tamol persisted with his efforts at tracking what was not there.  “The men of my village said that a flood came and washed Cloud Bringing Woman away.”

Tamol
looked up as he caught Denoa’s look of challenge.  She silently dared him to try to correct her.  She persisted in calling Amara by the name of honor that she had been given. 

He did not respond to the challenge in her eyes.  Denoa believed that names were something for a person to live up to. 
Tamol knew this just as well as he knew many other things about the woman that had taken his heart from him and kept it with her these past many seasons. 

Tamol
followed the river.  He kept his eyes open for any sign of danger as he walked upon the burning sand.  During the night they had fallen into a light run simply because Denoa’s urgency had communicated itself to Tamol.  He knew that she was remembering Siada and he understood that guilt still plagued her, even as it did with him.  They had been too late, moments too late, to save Siada.  Throughout the night Tamol heard Denoa say the words, “Not again, please not again.”

He was not a man to give in to the inherent urge to believe in a spirit world or a world other than this one.  There was no god that had come and protected him as a boy and he had grown to manhood under the hand of a heartless father.   He did not pray now.  Instead
, he used the strength of his body, gathered over a lifetime lived upon the desert sands and red rock of his birth.  He relied upon the skill of tracking that had come to him unbidden from the time that he first looked upon the ground until now. 

“There.”
Tamol pointed to the rocky spires that had been there long before people had ever walked the land.   “If she is still alive then that is the only place where she might have found safety.”

Without a word Denoa ran beside
Tamol and she never took her eyes off the place that he had pointed out to her.  She moved with the strength and grace of a woman far younger than her many seasons.   A mother’s love drove her forward, giving power to her tired limbs and fatigued body.  

“Look! What do I see?” Ni’zin heard one of his men shout as he pointed out two distant figures.  If not for the angle of the land and the way that the canyons opened and fell away, Ni’zin would have missed seeing the pair.  As he moved
closer, he recognized the limping figure of Tamol.

“I thought that I had beaten you and spared your life, but I see that you still walk upon land that I have claimed as my domain.” Ni’zin spoke to himself as he caught sight of the woman that ran
alongside Tamol. 

Black hair the color of the night trailed down the woman’s back.
Her body was that of young woman but the strength in her limbs belied that observation.  “It cannot be.”

Ni’zin was pleased.  His father had died without ever destroying the woman that had caused his son to grow weak and turn away from all that he had been taught. 
Denoa.
  No other woman had ever compared to her. 

Ni’zin had planned to raid her village with his men and bring back captives that would cause Kaichen the most agony.  He would start with Kaichen’s mother and then move on to the rest. 

Tamol and Denoa were on foot and he and his men were on horseback.   They would ride down into the canyon and overtake the pair.  He would deal Tamol a fatal blow, once and for all. 

“Amara!”
Tamol’s strong voice called out as he approached the sheer rock face that stood tall above the rushing water.  He did not see her, but his every instinct told him that if she lived, she was there.  It was the only place of safety. 

“Are you here?” Denoa’s voice called, challenging
Tamol’s use of the young woman’s name.  “Amara! Cloud Bringing Woman!”

Silence met their calls and Denoa’s heart clenched in despair. 
Tamol’s limp was more persistent and his shoulders were slumped with fatigue but she did not fool herself.  He did not feel sorrow or regret.  Those emotions were foreign to him and she would not allow herself to think otherwise. 

“She is not here.” Denoa turned to
Tamol as he came to stand at her side.  She noticed that he stood behind her and his posture was rigid.  She followed the direction of his intense gaze and her blood ran cold.  Men on horseback raced toward them.  The rushing water had drowned out the sound of their approach.  Denoa instinctively moved to run, but Tamol held her wrist fast. 

“Let me go! We must flee.” Denoa was wild with fear.  She knew that only those men that had fought and killed rode upon the backs of horses.  Horseflesh was valuable and men died for the right to possess such a beast.   She knew who rode toward them with their black hair streaming out behind them and their bodies painted for battle.  The raiders that had pillaged her village and killed those that tried to fight had returned. 
It did not matter that they were few in number, the raiders knew that they had the advantage.

“It would be futile to run.  Show strength, not fear.”
Tamol shook Denoa to gain her attention and then he released her. 

She took several calming breaths before she was able to raise her eyes high to the heavens above.  It was only then that she saw the small foot dangling over the edge of a ledge high above the river. 
Cloud Bringing Woman.
 

Amara heard voices. 

“Amara! Cloud Bringing Woman!” Someone shouted and Amara opened her eyes.  Despite her best efforts she had fallen asleep.  Her lips were dry and her tongue was thick in her mouth.  Death had not come for her yet, but it was near.   For a time she had been lost in dreams and painless oblivion. 

She forced her body to heed her command as she tried to shift into a better position.  If it had been Kaichen that called for her, she would have recognized the voice.  But it was difficult to hear over the rushing river below her.  Her legs were numb.  She had been sitting for so long that she had lost all feeling in her lower body.  Amara fell onto her side and caught herself with her hands.  She peered over the side of the ledge and gasped at what she saw below her. 

Armed men on horseback surrounded a woman and a man.  The woman was Kaichen’s mother, Denoa. She recognized Tamol as the man shifted to stand in front of Denoa.  Why were they here?  Where was Kaichen?  It was difficult to connect her thoughts together.  The sun had drained most of the life from her, stealing her reserve of strength, burning away her will to live. 

Her skin was dry to the touch and she had lost the never ending thirst for water that had plagued her throughout the night.  It was early morning.  The sun was not even directly overhead yet and the heat was already intense. 

Amara shifted again, pulling her knees toward her chest.  She was too afraid to call out.  Denoa did not look up and neither did Tamol.  The men that surrounded them were known to her.  She did not know their names or faces but their bodies were painted in the same patterns used by the warriors that had taken her from her village and killed many of her people.   Amara could only watch as down below things progressed from bad to worse.

“I have no fight with you.”
Tamol struggled to keep his voice firm. 

He did not like the way that
the raiders stared at Denoa.  He tried to stand in front of her but the leader simply moved his horse so that he could advance without interference. 

For her part, Denoa tried to control the trembling in her limbs.
She recognized one of the raiders.  The man that stared down at her had once been a vindictive boy with cold eyes.  She had feared him then and she feared him now. 

Denoa’s reaction toward
the raider was a visceral response to the memory of the vile acts he and his men had committed.  Because of this man and men like him, Denoa knew that evil stalked the land. 

The man
dismounted and stood facing them with a look of superiority upon his face.  Denoa knew what was to come, but she was not prepared for it.  Without warning the man struck Tamol across the face.

Tamol
fell and he did not rise again. Denoa feared that the raider had landed a killing blow upon Tamol but she did not move.  She knew that the men before her enjoyed fear. 

He fed off of
terror the way a predator feeds upon the dashing path of the one that it stalks.  Tamol moaned and Denoa breathed deeply, momentarily relieved that he still lived. She forced herself to inhale and exhale as she tried to conquer her fear. 

The raider
drew close to Denoa.  She watched him warily and she did not move when he pressed his face against her cheek and inhaled sharply.  

His eyes were
familiar, yet watchful and cold.  He gripped her arm with a speed that left her dazed and tugged her forward.  She felt the cold rasp of his tongue as it touched the side of her face and bile rose to clog her throat.

“Do you know who I am?” Ni’zin words were confirmed when Denoa turned her head away without speaking.  She knew him.  She remembered him, just as he remembered her.

“You are the reason that I am not the leader of a great village unlike any that has risen or fallen since the time when my father lived.”

Ni’zin felt
the desire to possess Denoa swell and he recognized the gift given to him by his gods.  He had followed their command, their glory would be known throughout the land under his dominion.  Soon, all would know. 

T
he three men with him dismounted and cheered him on as he swung onto the back of his horse.  “Bring the woman to me.”

Denoa put up little resistance as she was lifted up to Ni’zin. 
She was not surprised when he swiftly tied her hands together and then urged his horse forward.  She would need to trot behind the animal or risk being dragged along.   

The other men watched as their leader carried off his prize.  Denoa tried to pace herself but when Ni’zin finally
stopped his horse, she was out of breath and sweating.  If he wanted to make certain that there would be little fight left in her, then he had succeeded. 

She raised her chin as he easily dismounted and stood before her with a smile upon his lips.  The black paint that covered one side of his face was fitting.  Darkness had long since rotted out his soul. 

Denoa was aware that he planned to rape her.  Her bound hands prevented her from fighting.  She had learned how to defend herself over the seasons, but her strength had never been tested until now.  

He grabbed hold of her hands without speaking and then he bore her to the ground.   Denoa looked around wildly, seeking help, but there was no one to help her, no one to save her.  She felt Ni’zin’s cruel hands upon her body and she shuddered in disgust.  He ripped her doeskin dress open and let his eyes feast upon her body.  

“I will enjoy this.  You should have been lying on your back before me long before now.” Ni’zin grabbed her roughly, drawing an unwilling gasp of pain from her lips even as Denoa’s mind spun.

“You were a boy when I knew you.”
She spoke through teeth that were clenched together, she was held fast between a place of mind-numbing fear and blinding anger. 

“I was more man than boy but you could not see it, you had eyes only for my brother.” Ni’zin pinched Denoa’s breasts hard, causing tears to come to her eyes. 

She blinked furiously as he fought to free his manhood and claim her.   Denoa had no strength left in her legs as he straddled her body, pinning her to the ground.  She had nothing left to fight with and she knew that she could not simply rest beneath him while he violated her.  “How many women have you dishonored with your quest for power?”

It was the wrong question to ask.  Ni’zin felt no shame over his actions
. The memories of his past conquests only strengthened his desire to possess the one woman that had escaped his grasp.   “Why is it that you do not fight me?”

Denoa’s silence confused him, he was used to resistance,
and it gave strength to his manhood and ignited his lust.  Ni’zin slapped Denoa once and then again and still, she simply stared up at him with dark, knowing eyes. 

“
I see that you are still a boy pretending to walk as a man.  You are weak, ill-equipped to mate with a woman. You are powerless.” Denoa spoke bravely as she stared into Ni’zin’s glittering eyes. 

Ni’zin’s fury mounted over her words but it was not enough to stir his manhood.   He needed her to fight
him; he wanted her to fight him.  Ni’zin lifted his hunting knife and cut the ties that bound her hands.  Her wrists fell slack within his punishing grasp.  “Fight me!”

Ni’zin slapped Denoa with the back of his hand but his actions were restrained.
He wanted her awake and watchful.  “I will make you forget that my brother ever lived.”

It was then that Denoa knew the power that she h
eld over Ni’zin.  He could not force his body to respond to her as a man responds to a woman.  He could not work up the lust needed to violate her unless she fought back.