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If so, Sage would make Four Fingers’ death agonizingly slow.
Four Fingers would beg for the poison arrow to be shot into his heart.
* * *
Leonida was only slightly aware that her horse stopped. She was still drifting in and out of consciousness, her head pounding from having been forced to hang low for so many hours. She looked dazedly over at a Kiowa warrior as he came and untied the ropes that held her on the horse’s back. She sighed with relief when he laid her on the ground, even though she was fearful of what might happen to her next.
She was fully awake now.
She glared up at Four Fingers as he came and stood over her, his legs outstretched, his fists on his hips. The gag was removed from her lips, and another warrior untied the rope that held the hot, clinging rabbit fur against her body. When that also fell away from her, and her pores were allowed to breathe again, and she had inhaled enough breath to give a reprieve to her throat, Leonida tried to scamper to her feet, then fell clumsily back to the ground, weak from having been tied so awkwardly on the horse for so long.
“Your legs will become strong again,” Chief Four Fingers said, sinking to his haunches before Leonida. He reached a hand toward her, chuckling when she raised a hand and knocked his away. “The white woman is not only beautiful, but she also has spirit. This is perhaps why Sage chose you over women of his own coloring to be his wife? Does your spirit exceed that of women of Sage’s village? Has it been put to a true test?”
“I will tell you nothing,” Leonida said, her throat parched from the need of water.
“That matters not to me,” Four Fingers said, shrugging. “Words from a white woman are foolish and unimportant. And as for testing, once you are among the Kiowa women, they will test you plenty.”
He grabbed her wrists and held them immobile as he lowered his lips toward hers. “Now? Let Chief Four Fingers test your ability to kiss,” he said huskily. “After your strength has returned, your skills at lovemaking will be thoroughly tested by Four Fingers, and then by those of my warriors who desire to see how a white woman might compare with a Kiowa squaw, in all ways sexual.”
His threats made Leonida shiver. She was going to be used by many men? If Sage ever found her, she would not be fit ever again to be his wife. She would be too defiled, perhaps even ripped apart.
As Four Fingers’ lips covered hers, she struggled to get free but found him too strong. She could not budge him.
As his kiss deepened, she tried to blank out the moment, pretending it was not happening. Tears streamed from her eyes as he lowered her to the ground. One of his hands now held her wrists together over her head, and his other hand moved up her velveteen skirt. When his hand covered her womanhood and pressed down against it, his middle finger seeking entrance inside her, she wanted to die. She tried to kick her feet but realized now that they were being held down by warriors on each side of her. They were forcing her legs farther apart, making her more accessible to Four Fingers’ probings.
When two other warriors came to kneel on the ground on each side of her head, each one taking one of her hands and holding it on the ground, she stiffened and readied herself for the assault that was near. She wrenched her lips from Four Fingers’ mouth and turned away, trembling with fear when his free hand swept up her blouse and cupped one of her breasts, his thumb circling the nipple.
After this was all finished, she vowed, she would find a way to steal a knife.
She would kill Four Fingers first, and then herself.
For now she would concentrate on the peaceful sound of the water splashing down from the waterfall.
She would concentrate on the smell of the wildflowers that dotted the banks of the stream.
She would imagine herself somewhere else, floating, free and pure again, and held in the protective embrace of Sage’s powerful arms.
Suddenly her eyes opened wide. Four Fingers jumped away from her. The warriors who had been holding her immobile were all running toward their horses, left watering at the
stream.
“Sage!” the sentries shouted as they came running into the camp. “Sage has been spotted. He brings more warriors than we have to fight him off! We must flee! Now!”
Hope filled Leonida in warm splashes, and tears streamed from her eyes.
Sage.
Wonderful Sage.
He was going to rescue her.
But she had to help him. She had to get away from the Kiowa before they had a chance to grab her and put her on one of their horses.
No matter how hard she tried to get up, though, her knees buckled from weakness and she fell back to the ground, breathless. Desperate to get away from the Kiowa, she began crawling toward a nearby boulder.
As she did, she kept looking guardedly behind her, waiting to be discovered. But the Kiowa seemed to have forgotten her. They hurriedly mounted their horses and rode away.
As Sage came into the camp, he got a last glimpse of the fleeing Kiowa. Anger grabbing at his pounding heart, he urged his horse into a faster gallop.
