Ted Dekker - Outlaw

“And sentenced me to my death?” I smiled.

“If I had not you would be dead. We will thank Lela.”

I nodded and looked away. “We will thank Lela.”

I had not seen this side of Wilam before. He was nothing like the man I had imagined, throwing his women down to ravage them as he pleased. And yet he had more power than any man I’d ever known.

I was his wife! His wife, imagine that.

Sitting beside that fire, I let the last of my fears slip away and allowed a smile.

“So you are telling me that you are ready?” he asked.

I turned to him, startled. My face blushed. But his bluntness actually put me at ease. I had to remember that I was in the Tulim valley, not playing coy with a man in Atlanta. As with all Tulim, talk of sexuality was almost as free-flowing as talk of food.

“Did I say I was?” I asked.

“Tell me that Melino did not speak with you.”

“She did.”

“And she told you that I was nervous.”

“As nervous as I am.”

“And we both know that Melino is a wise woman.”

“Very wise indeed.”

He sighed. “I think when I become chief, she will rule through me.”

“I think she may indeed.”

“I won’t allow it.”

“No,” I said. “I’m sure you wouldn’t.”

“So then let me be a man and tell you what I think, so you will know.”

He picked up a stick and poked at the burning coals, searching for the right words.

“I was troubled by you until I saw you dancing with the children. I knew then that you would be mine, but it is a strange thing. I saw that you speak with a whip, but in your heart you are a delicate flower, and I had no desire to see Kirutu harm you. You might give me a son, yes, but I saw more than a child.” He shifted his eyes to me. “I saw you.”

“Hmm…” His words were a sweet song to my ears. Spoken for my benefit, surely. The prince was offering his own seduction.

He dropped the stick in the fire and set his forearms on his thighs.

“So we should begin,” he said.

It wasn’t my kind of seduction.

“Begin?”

“Yes.”

“Just like that? Right here, on the floor?”

“If you like.”

I knew that the Tulim expressed their sexuality in a fairly utilitarian fashion, but I hadn’t been prepared for such a casual approach.

“When you see a delicate flower, do you chop it off with a stone?”

“I assure you, I won’t hurt you. Melino will tell you, I am very gentle.”

There wasn’t a hint of humor or insincerity in his manner. Wilam was being as thoughtful as was natural to their ways. He simply wasn’t comprehending my desire to be wooed. I wasn’t sure if I fully knew what I wanted myself. Perhaps I was only stalling.

“You are afraid?” he asked.

“No. No…”

He stayed quiet for several breaths, then stood and turned away. “Then you don’t desire me.”

“Did I say that?”

“How foolish of me,” he said, crossing to the sleeping platform. “You have no longing for the Tulim man.”

My intention hadn’t been to hurt or reject him, and yet how else was he to interpret my response? I pushed myself to my feet.

“You’re wrong, Wilam. I do desire you.”

Did I?

He faced me and motioned at me accusingly. “And yet you play with me!”

As I saw it, there was only one proper way to proceed, and I was suddenly resolved to take it. I closed my eyes for a moment and let my restraint take flight. Then I looked at him, intent on seducing him in the only way I knew how.

“Wilam…” I made my approach to him slowly. “You must know that where I come from the way of a man and a woman is different than among your people. It is not that I don’t desire you, because I do. I see you and I see a powerful man whose eyes and body call to me and rob me of my breath.”

His face softened.

“If you are willing I would show you my way.”

The tension in that hut was palpable and the moment I placed my hand on his broad chest, all awkwardness fled us. Behind me the flames lapped the night air softly; outside the cicadas sang. Melino had said she would know if I’d delivered on my pledge. Perhaps she was watching. It hardly mattered.

I drew my finger over his muscles. “If you will allow me, I will show you a new world.”

I could smell the sweet rapina bark that had cleaned his teeth, the aroma of the salve he applied to keep his skin dark and healthy. The scents pulled me in.

“Tell me you will not resist me,” I whispered, leaning closer. “I will not peck your eyes out like a cassowary. I will make you the father of a son.”

He did not respond.

“Tell me that I may do whatever I wish.”

“You must.”

In that moment I, the white woman scorned by my captors and rejected for two shells, became the most powerful woman in the valley, for I had Wilam, son of Isaka, envy of every man and woman in the Tulim valley, under my command.

And with that power I would serve Wilam in a way he had not dreamed possible.

I placed my hand over his heart.

Under my palm his chest rose and fell as his breathing thickened. His reaction to my touch made me dizzy with desire. The hut was hotter than it had been only moments earlier, and my skin prickled with anticipation.

Leaning into him, I brought my finger to his mouth and traced his lips.

“Where I come from we use our mouth to speak more than simple words,” I whispered.

“Show me,” he breathed.

The Tulim did not kiss. It simply wasn’t a part of their tradition. But we were both beyond tradition. All that mattered now was the fulfillment of need and duty.

I slowly lifted my lips to his, and I kissed him. Gently at first, allowing him time to find pleasure in the new sensation. Then I dipped my tongue into his mouth and I felt him shudder.

The sounds of the night faded and time stood still for us. I had intended to gratify Wilam, but I had not anticipated how deeply I would drink from that same pool. For long minutes we kissed, with increasing passion.

With a sudden groan deep within his throat, Wilam seized my waist and lifted me as if I were a doll in hands of iron. Until that moment deep in the jungle, I had never wanted to be loved so badly as I wanted to be loved by Wilam.

Perhaps because I had been a slave and was now the master, if only in that hut.

Perhaps because he had saved me from certain death.

Perhaps because I wanted to feel fully alive again after living on the ragged edge of death for so long.

Or perhaps because I wanted to create new life.

Chapter Sixteen

THE DAYS that followed were a dizzying whirlwind. Yes, my purpose was to bear a child, but I had sparked more than the desire for a son in Wilam’s heart—of that I was quite sure.

When a woman is the subject of such utter preoccupation to a man as I was, she cannot help but feel like a queen. I was caught up in the joy of Melino and the other muhan, who now treated me with new respect.

I was tempted to believe that Wilam was falling in love with me. Perhaps even I with him. Everywhere I went, the people knew. I was Wilam’s second wife. Lela was ecstatic and wrestled far too many details from me.

But I was duly aware that I was that queen only because I bore the promise of a child. My power grew in my belly, not in my heart. I kept telling myself that this didn’t matter, I should only be grateful. But the thought nagged at me when I allowed it.

I was loved for what I could offer, not for who I was.

And who was I? I didn’t rightly know anymore.

Melino became my confidante. That first night I was certain that I would quickly become the object of her jealousy. How could she see Wilam’s face and not wonder if she could bring such a smile from him? But the very next day she called for me and put my fears to rest.