Wild Splendor

Sage swam to shore and climbed from the water. He turned and offered Leonida a hand which she refused.

“I won’t leave the water until the warrior leaves,” she said stubbornly, covering her breasts with her arms as she found a steady footing on the gravel bottom of the river.

Sage turned to Spotted Eagle. “Go to the camp and warn everyone that it is time to move onward,” he said. “I will soon be there to give direct orders.”

Spotted Eagle gave Leonida a lingering, questioning glance, then nodded to Sage and turned and left.

Her knees still trembling from the ecstasy that she had discovered within Sage’s arms, Leonida climbed from the water and bashfully, hurriedly, dressed.

Just as she turned to leave, Sage grabbed her by the wrist and swung her around to face him. “Do not forget our promises,” he said huskily. “Our bodies spoke of promises, as did our lips, and hearts. I love you, white woman. You love me. From this day forth, do not turn your eyes shyly away from me. What we shared is ours forever. And we will share much, much more. Nothing will stand in the way of our future happiness. Nothing.”

He paused, then added, “Not even Kit Carson. And especially not General Harold Porter.”

She flung herself into his arms and clung to him. She closed her eyes, trying to block out all thoughts of fears and doubts.

There was only now.

Chapter 11

The winds of heaven mix forever,

With a sweet emotion.

—SHELLEY

Traveling through the deep canyons that gashed the high plateau and the steep gullies that snaked along the mountainside, everyone was now on foot. The warriors were leading their horses in a fatiguing, scrambling climb in and out of ribbons of shadows, through the narrow, dark gorges, everyone following, the children crying as they clung to their mothers.

Having stopped seldom and eaten little once the steeper climb had begun, Leonida forced herself to move onward beside Sage. She was tired and stiff, in awe of his toughness, yet she reminded herself that he was an imperious warrior accustomed to all sorts of inconveniences in life, now even having to flee the wrath of the white man.

Her hair blowing in wisps around her face, Leonida brushed it aside and glanced over at Sage. Although she was constantly aware of what he was inflicting on these women and children who lagged along behind her, she could not help but sympathize with his plight. His whole future was in jeopardy. How could she not worry about him?

She was now a part of his future.

Her gaze swept up over the red rock that met a flawless, turquoise sky. Touched by the sunlight, the rock became dull orange and buff with flecks of gold. She jumped with a start when a protesting raven croaked at the passing entourage from her nest, close by on the side of the cliff.

They traveled onward through narrow passages of warm rock. The sun was fading in the sky. The shadows were lengthening. Fatigue was setting in on Leonida rapidly. She was glad when Sage stopped and turned to everyone as they reached a table of rock that stretched out into clumps of junipers and pinyon pines, and where dark, dusty-green grass reached to a cliff that overlooked a valley far below.

“We will stop for the night here,” Sage announced, giving Leonida a quick glance, knowing that she was worn out yet had not lodged even one complaint. “Tomorrow we will arrive at the Navaho stronghold. There we will await the decision of the white leaders, whether or not they will cooperate so that you can all return to your loved ones.”

Sage moved closer to Leonida. He smoothed some locks of hair from her eyes as she gazed over at him.

“Soon you all will be returned to your people,” he said, looking from woman to child. “It was never my intention to keep you as captives forever. I have not enjoyed inflicting suffering upon you. In time, I hope you will understand why I was forced to do this. As for tonight, try to rest. Tomorrow is the fiercest climb of all to reach the final destination of our journey.”

Sage paused, then added, “You will return to those who love and miss you,” he said more determinedly. “But first I must use you to ensure my own people’s future.”

There was a strained silence, and then the women sought the softest clusters of grass and sat down upon them. The children were soon lying in their laps, asleep in their arms.

Leonida gave Carole and Trevor a worried look. Carole was already fast asleep, her cheeks sunken and pale, her breathing shallow. Trevor was snuggled up next to her, unaware of his mother’s weakness, taking from her what he could, while he could. Perhaps he could sense that his mother did not have much longer on this earth.

As several warriors efficiently got a campfire going, others left the campsite to hunt for the evening meal.

Placing her hands at the small of her back, Leonida strolled away from everyone and went to the farthest edge of the cliff and sat down upon it. Out of everyone’s view, she leaned her knees against her chest. As she gazed below, something caught her attention. She gasped and leaned closer, to get a better look. There was enough evening light left to see something that awed her.

“And so you see that which belongs to my people that is so necessary for their survival?” Sage said as he came to sit down beside her.

Leonida looked up quickly. She had not heard his approach. She had been too caught up in looking at the vast fields of peach trees in the valley far below her, as well as fields of corn, beans and squash, and many merino sheep with their thick, curly wool.

Also, she had seen a small hogan, apparently for the man who saw to the sheep and the fields of fruit and vegetables.