Lord Strongheart followed the sounds drifting to him in the
wind like the sweet, clear tinkling of wind chimes over the babble of flowing
water. They were the chatterings and laughter of females where there should be
none, but who was he to mistrust his own ears. The warrior-lord moved with a
hunter’s stealth and followed the path parallel to the river. As the sounds
grew louder, he dropped into a crouch and almost belly-crawled his way until
the swimming hole came into view.
It was a beautiful spot indeed, clear and deep, with
a large, smooth boulder perched on the edge of the water, great for jumping
into the river. Surrounded by sheltering trees and shrubs, it was the perfect place
to bathe and frolic. That was exactly what the dozen or so young women were
doing. The lord realized what he was doing was not in any way dignified.
However, the most honorable man in the world would be hard pressed to pass by a
flock of naked young ladies and not stop for a tiny, indulgent glimpse. A
wicked smile spread across his face as he settled to do some strategic and
absolutely necessary spying.
Out of the water came the most tempting water
nymph any man could imagine. The young girl made her way up the boulder to join
her friends. Long, dark, wet hair clung to smooth shoulders and down her slim
back, to drip over the deep curve that gave way to luscious, firm buttocks.
Thighs, long and smooth, met at the juncture where a small triangle of space
between the legs could be seen.
As the girl bent at the waist to gather her wet
hair and squeeze the water from it, a full view of her fleshy little mound,
pink, moist, nestled under her perfect ass rewarded his appreciative eyes. She
stood, turned, tossed the wealth of wet hair over her back and raised her face
to the sky, seeking the warm kiss of the sun upon her face. From round, firm
breasts crowned with pebbled, rosy nipples, dripped iridescent fat drops of
water.
“Enjoying yourself?” whispered a voice next to
him, and he almost flew out of his skin.
“Hush, my friend,” he whispered, “that we may
enjoy the view a bit longer.” As the two men watched, other girls came out of
the water and climbed the boulder. Some squeezed out long, wet tresses. Others
settled down with knees slightly apart to allow their intimate nooks to dry out
in the sun, and a few sat combing their hair with hand-carved wooden combs. One
young girl, lush and soft like a mouth-watering peach, arranged herself on the
smooth boulder while a friend rubbed her with a white cream scooped out of a
small clay pot. Beside him, his companion’s breath caught at such a tempting
sight. “Such treasure to be had among the Choctaw,” the lord whispered to his
friend.
A few moments later, a rider crested the rise on
the far side of the river and rode down the embankment. She wore baggy trousers
of faded black cotton, a white, long-sleeved tunic belted around the waist, and
a dark length of cloth wrapped around the head and shoulders to protect her
from sun and wind.
“Annasai,” the young woman’s voice rang out from
her perch on the horse. “Your father sends for you. The visitors are expected
any time now, and he wants you at his side and looking presentable when they
arrive.”
“No,” the beauty that first caught his attention
called back. “The day is too beautiful to spend with boring old men. You go,
Setiyah. You stand for me.”
The rider took a deep breath, considering her
options. She dismounted and, not bothering to tether her mount, walked down to
the boulder. “You know I can’t do that. You are the chief’s daughter. I’m only
his niece. It’s your duty to be there. Are you not curious to see the man who
will become your husband?”
At this point, Eric Salvo turned to the man who
was both his lord and closest friend and grinned. “You are a lucky bastard!
That stunning girl is the chief’s daughter. I bet the Accord will not be so
hard to keep after all.”
Victor Strongheart, lord of Daniel’s Fork and
commander of its warriors, smiled so widely, his face threatened to crack. “Not
hard at all.” On the far bank, the argument continued.
“Annasai, quit being such a child and come down.
We must dry and braid your hair and make you presentable. There’s little time.
Hurry.”
“No, Setiyah. Go back, wear my clothes, cover
your head, and stand for me. No one will know the difference. Please, please?
Do it for me, my love. I will be there tonight for the feast, I promise.”
Annasai pouted her lush lips in a pleading gesture.
Setiyah stood there awhile longer, gazing in
frustration at her beautiful cousin. How Annasai always managed to wrap her
cousin around her little finger was something Setiyah had long ceased to ask
herself. The girls, born six months apart with Setiyah the eldest, were extreme
opposites. One acted like she was the mother, and the other behaved like a
child. Where one was serious and contemplative, the other was all laughter and
impulse. While one was responsible and sensible, the other was wild and
selfish. One was mindful of the future of the tribe, but the other thought only
of the moment and her own fun.
Still, Annasai was neither evil nor hurtful, as
Setiyah well knew. She was just like a songbird, light, playful, wanting to
have fun while her beauty was fresh and her power strong. Setiyah sighed and
took up her task. These were the careless, wonderful days of youth before
Annasai had to settle to a husband, children, and the rigors of duty. The last
freedom before she had to marry a man she did not know, maybe even an ugly,
mean-tempered brute.
All because the Accord between the tribes and the
territory must be upheld. Setiyah mounted her horse and left, and the girls all
jumped back in the water with much laughter and careless abandon. The two men
took the opportunity to make a quick, quiet retreat. Ten minutes later, they
were back on the trail with their men.
