“One more step…one more motion…in this direction,” Two Eagles grunted in his tongue without taking his eyes from Onontio, “…and I will cut your throat.”
“Ganösá,” swore Onontio, his expression beyond astonishment. “I made the raids. She is my prisoner. You are lucky I allow you to live.”
With nervous fingers, Juliet clutched her bodice watching the tableau. Onontio was not the kind of warrior to yield and he might win Mary.
The Mohawk medicine woman stepped forward and lifted her hand for all who had assembled. “Two Eagles says she is his woman. He speaks the truth. I’ve seen it in a vision.”
A pregnant hush fell upon the villagers and a moment of indecision stretched interminably. Some of the Indians stepped back, venerating Ojistah. Her gift of sight was not to be dishonored.
Onontio’s lips curled, his teeth bared. “One day I will kill you, Two Eagles.”
Two Eagles smiled at the War Chief, a distinctly vulpine curve to his lips. “Only if you come at me or what is mine, like the coward you are…it is you who will die.”
For a long moment, Onontio glared at Two Eagles, and then turned, shouldering his way through a ring of spectators and knocking a number to the ground.
Mary flew into Juliet’s arms. “I’ve been so frightened. Now I’m Two Eagles’ woman. Which is worse?”
Juliet glimpsed the disgust on Two Eagles’ face before his formidable control was back in place.
Ojistah placed her hand on Mary. “You must walk with Two Eagles to reinforce my prediction. If not, you will be returned to Onontio.”
Juliet hugged her friend and pushed her away. “Do what Ojistah has said. I sent Two Eagles to get you, and now you have insulted him.”
“The savage does not know what I said. He does not speak English.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, glancing uncertainly at Two Eagles. Two Eagles had departed and Mary hurriedly followed him round the village, leaving Juliet wondering if Ojistah’s vision had been a ruse or not.
Chapter Eleven
Evening mantled the village. Joshua inhaled fragrant wood smoke from several lit fires that illuminated the smiling faces of the villagers. The marriage of their blood brother was an occasion.
Women surrounded Juliet, jabbering together in excitement, pushing her ahead. Joshua craned his neck to catch sight of her. She stood tall, carrying herself with dignity and grace with each step forward. His chest expanded, admiration and respect for her growing. She wore a white doeskin dress that clung to her feminine curves, curves he’d a glimpse of when he stirred from sleep while she had dressed for the wedding. The tantalizing image sizzled through his brain, dazzling as the first glow of the world as she lit his bleak existence. Tall, her hair, shining like ethereal fire, and tumbling down her back, covering her rounded hips…set a man to dreaming.
She stopped in front of him. He limped a step closer.
She raised her head, her gaze roving over him. Her eyes shone as she looked at him, then just as quickly, she glanced away, a blush reddening her cheeks.
“You approve?”
She lifted a brow. “I see you are hale and healthy. It is like you have never been injured.”
His thigh throbbed where Ojistah had burned him, but another part of him burned even more. He nodded, fought a compelling urge to bury his fingers in her hair. “Thanks to you and Ojistah. Of course, my immortality adds to my legend.”
She fingered a long, pointed porcupine quill on her dress, its point poking her fingertip. She suffered for what to say and he pitied her. He was a stranger to her, a caprice of fate that would make him her husband.
He captured her trembling hand and held it in his larger one. Her hand lay innocently on his. He wondered at this strange new sensation, her hand feeling so at home in his, like it was meant to be.
He placed his mouth by her ear. A strand of her hair caressed his cheek. His gut clenched. “Are you frightened?”
“Am I not supposed to be?”
Her warm breath touched his cold skin, light and soft as a feather.
“I have won you, but you have nothing to fear from me.”
She glanced around at the women stepping in time to a beating drum. “You are gallant for sure, but you don’t have to go through with this ceremony,” she whispered. “Surely the vows will not be considered sacrosanct?”
“Ah, but we must go through this ceremony. I might be able to fight my way out, but I could not guarantee your safety. Let us get through the least of our problems at the moment. Afterward, we can discuss our futures.”
Onontio pushed through the revelers, bobbing and weaving, whacking people out of his way. The broken nose Joshua gave him swelled as big as a pound of raw hasenpfeffer and with the scar down his cheek, served as an improvement.
