Silken Savage Read Online Free PDF Page B

leather straps like the one that her captor used as a bridle on his horse. What caught Tanya’s eye was the hatchet that hung with them, and the feather-decorated lance leaning close by. With weapons she might escape and survive.
    Tanya glanced at the old woman, discomfited to find the black eyes watching her intently. She sighed tiredly and closed her eyes. Now was not the time.
    Her opportunity came sooner than she would have guessed. Tanya woke to a pain in her leg. In her sleep she had rolled over onto her branded thigh, and the pain had jerked her out of a sound sleep. Hesitantly, she glanced about. The fire had burned low, but she could see by the glow of the coals that she was alone. Her captor had not returned, and the woman must have left once she was sure Tanya slept, not expecting the weary girl to awaken so soon. Sounds of the revelry outside told her the ceremony was still going on.
    Slowly Tanya rolled to her feet, careful not to touch the raw red wound on her thigh. She removed the hated leash and flung it to the ground. Stealthily she crept to the flap-covered opening and peeked out. Not thirty feet away, the Indians were celebrating around the central fire, but all seemed quiet away from the fire.
    Ducking back inside, Tanya longed for the time to search out food and water, but dared not spare precious moments that might mean the difference between escaping or not. She grabbed up the lance and hatchet and crawled out the opening. Quickly she dashed around to the darkened side of the tipi. Keeping to the shadows, ever wary, she wound her way past lodge after lodge on silent bare feet. With the lance as a crutch, she worked her way to the edge of the encampment.
    Once free of the village, she dashed headlong across the open field, intent on the cover of the forest, determinedly ignoring the pain in her leg. Her breath was coming in short gasps, and her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears she was surprised the whole village hadn’t heard it. She wished she could have stolen a horse, but she hadn’t known where they were kept, and hadn’t passed any along her way.
    So intent was she on her flight, Tanya failed to see or hear the person following her. Reaching the tree–line, she stopped to catch her breath, leaning against a tree trunk for support. As she straightened up to go on, a hand clamped itself down over her mouth as another snatched the hatchet and lance from her. She felt herself hauled back and dragged into the moonlit field to face none other than her captor of two days ago. Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back furiously.
    Once more she found herself marched back past the circling pattern of tipis. Upon reaching that of her captor, he threw her through the opening to sprawl on the dirt floor inside. Before she could scramble to her feet, he took one of the braided leather strands from its place on the wall. She watched in horror as he approached her, his dark eyes flashing in anger.
    Instinctively, her arms came up to shield herself from the first blow. She rolled to her stomach, trying to get her legs under her to stand, but the blows were landing furiously on her back and buttocks, making it impossible for her to rise. Through a haze of pain, she knew she was crying. Tears coursed down her face, blinding her as she huddled into a ball. She tasted the metallic flavor of blood and realized she was biting her bottom lip to keep from screaming. By the time the blows had stopped, she was moaning and begging for mercy.
    Tanya’s humiliation was complete when he stripped her camisole and pantalets from her. Completely naked, her tawny hair streaming wildly over her shoulders, Tanya stared at him with eyes wide with pain and fear. With her last remaining spark of false courage she spat, “Don’t you touch me!”
    Her coppery captor loomed over her, naked himself except for his breechcloth and moccasins. He slapped her hard across the cheek, then picked her up as