Page 14 of Everlasting

  "But you are not doing any of those things, and you did let him go. That is what is important."

  "What is important is getting Kira back to camp and getting her something to eat," Marna said crossly. "And you are not to take her hunting, Paulo. You never know when to stop. You would have her starved and exhausted before you brought her home."

  "I'm afraid there won't be any hunting for any­one in the near future." Kira was abruptly jarred back to the realities of the situation. "We have to pack up and move the tribe farther into the hills. Sandor said it would be very dangerous for you to stay here. There's going to be a war, Marna."

  "So? Will it stop the war if you do without dinner?"

  Paulo's deep chuckle boomed out. "Give in, little one, we will go nowhere until she's satisfied."

  "But there's no time. How can you be so calm? The war will—"

  Marna stopped her with an abrupt gesture of her hand. "There are always wars. Lands are invaded, old governments fall, new governments rise. Every­thing changes." She tapped her breast with her fist. "Everything but us. We stay the same. That is our strength."

  Yes, that was the strength of her people, Kira thought, traditional values which didn't change with each waft of the wind, but stood firm through the centuries. Kira shook her head in resignation. "All right. While I eat, you pack. Is it a deal?"

  "Of course." Mama's brows lifted in surprise. "That is very sensible. When have I ever been any­thing but practical?"

  "Never." Kira stood on tiptoe to brush a light kiss on her broad cheek. Magic and strength and love. For Marna, these qualities defined practicality, and who was to say that she wasn't right? She linked her arm through Mama's and urged her gently back toward the encampment. "You're quite right. No one in the world is more pragmatic than you."

  Ten

  Kira lifted the two-year-old back into his parents' wagon, pressing a kiss on the delicious chubbiness of his cheek as she did so. "Stay there," she warned sternly. It was the third time he had crawled out of the caravan since they had started packing up and breaking camp. Chirak appeared to delight in getting underfoot, and she could tell by the gleam in his bright, dancing eyes that he would probably do it again as soon as her back was turned.

  She turned around, her gaze raking the camp. It was almost done. The fire had been extinguished, the horses hitched to the wagons, and each fami­ly's belongings carefully packed in its caravan. Even the saldana caravan had been pulled over to join the others in the encampment. They were nearly ready for departure and still Zack hadn't come back.

  Her worried gaze lifted to the moonlit sky. She had been working feverishly to try to block out the fear, and the moment she stopped, panic began to rise in her again. "He will return soon. It has not been that long." Kira turned to where Marna was standing a few feet away. "Three hours. What could he be doing for three hours?"

  Marna shrugged. "He will tell us when he comes back."

  If he comes b— No, she wouldn't think that. Marna was right, he'd be here any minute. "Are you ready to leave? Zack will want to take off again as soon as he arrives."

  Marna was silent for a long moment. "I am ready." She paused again. "But I am not going with you."

  Kira wasn't even surprised. She knew that some­where deep inside she had been half-expecting this reaction. "You never did intend to go, did you? From the moment we crossed back from Sedikhan you planned to stay with them." Marna slowly nodded. "I have a place with them." "You have a place with me." Kira's eyes were glit­tering with unshed tears. "I love you, dammit."

  "But you do not need me. The mondava is com­pleted. You are a woman now, in heart as well as in body." Marna gestured, her hand encompassing both the camp and the people bustling cheerfully around them. "They need me. The times may not be good again for a long while. We will have to hold fast to each other."

  "That's what I want to do to you—hold fast," Kira said huskily.

  The tiniest smile tugged at Mama's lips. "But you will not do it. You have learned to let go, remember?"

  Kira was silent, fighting tears. "No, I won't do it. Not if that's what you want." She gave up the battle and two tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. "I love you, Marna Debuk."

  Mama's big hands cradled Kira's cheeks and she kissed her very gently on the forehead. "And I love you, Kira Rubinoff. You will always be with me."

  "I will always be with you," Kira said softly. "As you'll always be with me." She drew a shaky breath. "This is so stupid. We sound like this is for­ever. I won't accept a lifelong separation. Abso­lutely not. I'm going to find a way for us to be together, and not only in spirit, dammit."

  "We will see," Mama said noncommittally. Her head lifted suddenly, her gaze on the sky. "He is here."

  "He is?" Kira's heart gave a leap of relief and joy. She still couldn't hear the familiar whir, but she didn't doubt the statement. "Oh, thank God."

  Marna released her and stepped back. "Go to him. I have work to finish."

  The helicopter was coming down as she reached the glade, and by the time she had run across it, Zack was opening the door. She leaped into his arms and held on tight. Her face was buried in his chest and her voice was a little muffled. "You're late. Why the devil are you so late? I was so scared, so worried ..." Her voice trailed off. Oh, dear heaven, how she loved him. He was here. Safe.

  "We ran into a little trouble." Zack was smooth­ing her tangled curls with gentle hands. "Or I would have been back a long time ago." She lifted her head swiftly. "What trouble?" "Bullets," he said succinctly. "I had to refuel the helicopter when I reached Sandor's base. Naldona evidently isn't wasting any time. Sandor's base was raided before I could take off again. It was over an hour before Sandor's men managed to fight them off and I was able to get out of there." He smiled. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to obey your orders about staying out of the line of fire. These things just seem to happen in Tamrovia." He kissed her lightly and then stepped back and turned her toward the encampment. "It's time we said our good-byes and got out of here. Are Paulo and his people ready to move up into the hills?"

  "Almost." She didn't look at him, but her hand unconsciously sought his. "Mama's going with them."

  Zack's fingers threaded through hers in warm, silent support. He didn't speak for a moment. "I was wondering if she would." "I'll miss her so." "Yes."

  "It's not safe for her, Zack. Sandor said Naldona knew about Marna." She bit her lower lip. "I'm so worried about her. She may not be safe from him even up in the hills."

  "Sandor told me he'd have his men try to keep watch over the tribe."

  "It sounds like Sandor will have trouble just looking after himself." There was another silence.

  "I can't make her choices, can I? She's got the right to do as she thinks best."

  "Yes."

  Her voice was suddenly violent. "You don't have to agree with me. 1 don't want to leave her here, dammit. I don't want to be reasonable and mature."

  "I know you don't."

  "I can see your Indian side is dominating at the moment. You're being very taciturn." She shook her head ruefully. "One of these days I will have evolved to the point where I don't blow apart when something like this happens."

  "I hope not." Zack's voice was velvet soft. "Why do you think Marna and I have tried to protect you from the realities all these years? You have a very special gift for caring with every atom of your being. That's a joy for those around you, but it makes you vulnerable. It's also making the pain you're feeling now more intense."

  They were entering the encampment and his eyes suddenly narrowed speculatively. "It's true you have no right to interfere, but perhaps—"

  Kira's brow knotted in puzzlement. "Perhaps, what?"

  He slowly shook his head. "Let me think about it." He released her hand. "There's not much time left. Why don't you spend it with Marna? I'll help Paulo and the men with the last of the heavy loading."

  Only Paulo and Mama's wagon remained in the deserted clearing. The rest of the wagon
s were moving slowly toward the rough dirt road a mile or two from the encampment.

  Marna gave Kira a brief, brisk hug. "Everything has been said between us," she said gruffly. "Joy, Kira."

  Yes, everything had been said and what was left didn't need words. Kira, too, refused to say good­bye. She kept her voice steady despite its huski-ness. "Joy, Marna."

  She watched Marna climb up onto the high seat of the wagon. The tears were brimming as she stepped back beside Zack, who was shaking hands with Paulo.

  Paulo turned and smiled down at her. "Don't look so tragic, little Kira. We can't really be parted. Marna has taught you that." He bent and kissed her cheek. "Joy, Kira."

  She threw her arms around him and hugged him with all her strength. "Take care, Paulo."

  "Always," he said lightly as he climbed onto the wagon seat and picked up the reins. He flicked the reins and the horses began to move forward. They had gone only twenty yards or so when Paulo's head suddenly swiveled and he shouted back at them. "Bighorn sheep? You are sure, Zack?"

  Zack grinned. "I'm sure, Paulo."

  A wide smile lit Paulo's bearded face and his booming laugh rang out. Then he turned back once again to face the distant road. He slapped the reins and the wagon rolled forward.

  "What was that about?" Kira asked.

  "I was telling Paulo about some land I've leased from the government in Montana and Idaho." Zack's gaze was on the fast-disappearing wagon.

  "A wild country tract about the size of Tamrovia, overflowing with mountains and streams and game. I invited Paulo, Marna, and the tribe to come over for a year or so and see how they like it."

  Kira held her breath. "And?"

  "He said he'd think about it. Kira, it's only a pos­sibility. There aren't any real certainties in this world, only possibilities. You can't make choices for the people you love, but you can sometimes expand those choices and offer them alternatives."

  Kira's face was illuminated with excitement. "They'll come. I know they'll come. Oh, Zack, I was so worried about them."

  "There's no guarantee that if they do come, they'll stay. This is their homeland and they may become restless and want to return to it," Zack said. "You have to face facts, Kira."

  "But by that time maybe the war will be over and they'll at least be safe." Kira slipped into his arms and burrowed her head in his chest. "But can you get the whole tribe out of Tamrovia?"

  "It would take a major airlift. I guess I'd better tell Dubliss to stay put in Switzerland for a while," Zack said, his voice threaded with humor. "I don't think we could get them to leave either their wag­ons or their horses behind. But the airlift is a defi­nite possibility. I got Paulo to chart their new location on my map, and I told him he could send word through Sandor anytime he felt the need to take a little hunting trip."

  "I want to go to Montana as soon as we get back,' Kira said eagerly. "Ill take hundreds of pictures of mountains and streams and bighorn sheep and send them to Paulo and Marna." She glanced up, her eyes twinkling. "A letter bombardment seemed to work pretty well for Marna with you. Now we'll just see how she likes it."

  Zack nodded. "A masterly plan, love. We'll deluge them with choices and hope they'll make the one that will suit us best."

  "Is that an Indian philosophy?" Kira grinned.

  "No, the Indian part of me is looking askance at such contrivance." Zack shrugged. "But what can you expect from someone who is neither fish nor fowl?"

  She went still. "I know what I expect," she said slowly. "I expect what you always give me: Honesty, strength, intelligence, patience, affection, loyalty . . . Shall I go on?"

  He shook his head. "Much as I appreciate the accolades you're heaping on me, I think we'd better dispense with them for the moment. We've been here too long already. We'd better head for the helicopter."

  "A few more minutes won't hurt." She leaned back in his arms to look up at him. "I think there are a few things we should get straight. When I first saw you I thought you were the strongest, most confident man I'd ever laid eyes on. I still think that, but I believe you have one major hang-up, Zack." His eyes studied her face. "And what is that?" "The same one that's been the bane of my exis­tence all these years. My damn title." She lifted her hand to stop him as he began to speak. "No, I know you don't have any desire to gain status through it, but it's a bugaboo just the same. I think my title intimidates you."

  "Intimidates?"

  "Remember when you told me about discounting the possibility that a princess and a half-breed could ever really get together, when Marna first told you about the mondava? You didn't even question that reaction. And why didn't you go after me when you decided you wanted me, instead of waiting for Marna to serve me up to you on a silver platter?" She drew a deep breath. "And why haven't you asked me to marry you? I know you love me. You were angry when you thought I wasn't going through with the mondava, but you never even suggested that we be linked together in a cere­mony joining us in the eyes of the world. In some ways, I think you never recovered from those expe­riences that scarred you as a child." She paused deliberately. "You're a half-breed, and a bastard, and heaven only knows who some of your anteced­ents were, Zack Damon. You're also the finest, most wonderful man I've ever met. So who the hell cares?"

  "There's a possibility you may be right about my hang-up. I guess I never thought about it. I just reacted." Zack was looking at her with eyes glowing with intensity. "Who the hell cares?" he echoed thickly. "Will you marry me, Kira?"

  "You bet I will." She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him ecstatically. "Oh, Zack, I do love you so much. I was afraid you might be going to turn noble on me and want to leave me free or something. There's been so much talk of that lately." She kissed him. "Now listen carefully. I do not want to be free. I want to belong to you and to have you belong to me. I know that you would never try to stifle me, just as I would never try to sti­fle you." Her gaze was fixed earnestly on his face. "But I want the marriage tie between us. I believe in it. Call it the mondava or just plain love. It exists, Zack, and it will exist for the rest of our lives."

  "I know." He leaned forward to kiss her gently. "And even longer than the rest of our lives. The everlasting bonding. We're very lucky to have found it, and we'd be damned fools to risk losing it." He kissed her again with a power and passion that was a shining promise. Then he lifted his head and his voice was a little unsteady. "I love you, Kira. I'll love you forever."

  The moment was so fraught with beauty and meaning that she couldn't speak.

  At last he released her. "More later," he said with a low, husky laugh. He.took her elbow. "Now, let's get out of here before Naldona's soldiers come breathing down our necks."

  He didn't speak again until they had lifted off and were flying north over the dark forests and moonlit ribboned streams. He glanced at her searchingly. "You're very quiet. Are you very unhappy about leaving your home?"

  Kira lifted her eyes from the rolling panorama below. Yes, it was sad to be leaving, particularly when she wanted so desperately to help Tamrovia. Yet Zack had said there would be ways for them to help in the struggle, and she knew together they would find those ways. In the final analysis, from now on wherever Zack was, her home would be, just as she would be the lodestone of his existence.

  She held out her left hand and he took It and clasped it with warm, comforting strength.

  "I'm not leaving home." She smiled at him lov­ingly. "I'm going home, Zack. I'm going home."

 

 

  Iris Johansen, Everlasting

 

 

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