Mona took up the telling of the events.

"In the clearing below, a new sacred fire has been laid. Four poleshave been planted, symbolizing the four corners of the upper worldwhere our ancestors await our coming. The oldest and wisest of our people will lead the ritual. It is time."

She started down the steps, pausing dramatically, effectively, untilevery eye was riveted on the woman holding the still burning staff.

"A modern-day Moses," Catherine thought, not realizing that she'dspoken aloud until the feathered native turned his frown of disapprovalon her.

At the bottom of the mound Mona raised her staff and began anincantation in the language of the Natchez people. She began walkingtoward the fire as she spoke, seeming not to see the people prostratethemselves as she passed. Inside the four poles she stopped, bowed herhead, then touched the staff to the ceremonial fire, which blazed upwith the force of a small explosion.

"Now," the Sun King said forcefully, "we sit and watch." He held out his hand to Catherine, who leaned back and pressed herself againstPatrick's chest.

"Where?" Patrick asked.

"She sits here" -he indicated the chair Mona had vacated "--beside me."

Patrick glanced down into the clearing. Once the flames started licking the sky Mona turned and started back to the mound.

"I don't think that's too wise, King. Your medicine woman seems to think it belongs to her. Since Catherine is mine, I think we'll justwatch the show from here on the ground."

"No!" The king turned a thundering frown on Patrick, making it clearthat the occasion did not lend itself to levity and that his commandswould be followed.

"Thank you," Catherine said brightly, shaking her head at Patrick inwarning.

"I am very curious about the ceremony. Who are those people?"

"They represent our past, our memories, our dreams and our wisdom.

They dance to pay tribute to the Great Spirits that have brought ourpeople from the far corners of the earth to this place of newbeginnings. "

Four old men wearing animal-skin loincloths and headbands made of whiteskin trimmed with feathers, and four old women wearing only white skinsdraped around their waists, had moved inside the circle, two standingbeside each pole. Around their necks the men wore medallions of hammered copper, the women necklaces of shells.

More shells, strung on leather thongs and tied around the women's lowerlegs, clanked musically as they walked. On their heads they wore aspecial ornament made of corn husks that had been split into strandsand allowed to hang down like a green waterfall. Both the men and the women carried green stalks of corn.

When Mona reached the top of the mound once more she raised her staffand faced the clearing. When the staff was dropped the drums startedup and the Natchez began to dance.

Mona allowed a smile of triumph to lift the corners of her mouth as sheturned--and caught sight of Catherine sitting in the chair she hadvacated. Covering her displeasure with an almost imperceptiblelowering of her eyes, she moved to the other side of the ruler anddropped gracefully to the ground.

"The ceremony begins, my king. The lookouts are in place and thesacred house is prepared."

"You have done well, Mona."

Patrick didn't miss the exchange. Though she'd spoken in their Indiantongue, Patrick had learned enough of the language from Jillico to knowwhat she'd said. He hadn't revealed his knowledge and though he didn'tunderstand why, neither had Jillico.

Jillico? Where was he? Earlier they'd been taken to the river andwashed, dressed and returned to wait, this time in separate huts. He hadn't seen his young friend since. They hadn't been left alone at theriver and each time Patrick had tried to talk, one of their guards hadrudely instructed them to be silent.

Now he studied the village. The mounds weren't new. They'd beenthere, unoccupied, if he were any judge, for years, probably centuries.Only the fields had been tended. He could see the corn, hanging heavywith ripe ears. The stalks supported vines of beans. The Indians along the Mississippi were farmers.

But there'd been a time, according to Jillico, when his tribe had beenfierce warriors, who sacrificed their enemies to the Sun King, oftencutting off their heads and preserving the faces to be used as a kindof mask. There were no heads impaled on the poles surrounding heceremonial fire, but there might have been.

There might still be. Patrick had a bad feeling about his. He couldn't allow the ex-slave king to make Cathrine his cortier, and thatwas what was about to hap- aen. It wasn't hard for Patrick to see the intense jealausy of Mona, and he wondered why she was making . t so easy for Catherine to take her place of power.

Mona had actually brought Catherine here. Why hadn't she arranged anaccident in the bayou and dislosed of her competition?

Where was Lopaz?

And where were the rest of the members of the tribe? Even Patrick could see how few men, women and chiliren there were below. Certainly,according to Jillico, time and unsuccessful warring had decimated thetribe. Even the white authorities had ceased to worry about heNatchez, concentrating all their concerns on the vluscogee and theChoctaw. He could only surmise that he remaining Natchez people hadjoined the other tribes and were no longer the warlike people they'dance been.

But now they had a new leader, who wanted to make hem strong again, aleader Patrick had brought to Louisiana on his own ship to rekindle thelegend of the Sun King. And part of that legend was co ruled by theWhite Woman.

Catherine. Catherine who'd come to the Mississippi in search of himhad been drawn into a world that could iestroy her. All because of him.

She was watching the proceedings intently, trusting hat all would bewell. Where he saw disaster, Catherine saw adventure. She turned and smiled at him, her eyes beaming with excitement. There was no fear in her. Where another woman might have averted her gaze from thehalf-nude bodies, and censured their beliefs, Catherine exhibited onlyinterest.

From the first moment he touched her he'd recognized that specialquality about her. His awareness had only grown with their beingtogether. When she'd lain back against him in the pirogue, theelectricity had blazed more potent than ever. It had taken every ounceof his control to keep his feelings secret. He wished now that he hadn't held back. If he'd voiced his concerns instead of deciding thathe hadn't the right to be with her, none of this would have happened.

But he was too accustomed to acting alone, making his own selfishchoices, for that had been his way. Until now. All the selfish thingshe'd done had only increased his wealth and added to his success untilhe'd decided to do right by Catherine--give her up.

The one truly noble act of his life, had brought them to this disaster.God help them, for he could see no way that he could save Catherinefrom a fate he didn't want to think about. The Sun King needed a WhiteWoman, an outsider. And Catherine was the perfect choice.

But the nagging question kept coming back. Why was the White Woman thetitle given to the co ruler of the Natchez?

The Sun King began to speak, explaining the dance to Catherine.

"They praise Mother Earth for taking the seed into her belly and givingforth the corn. The others are allowed to join in the dance."

Now they will come, Patrick thought. But even when the rest of the tribe joined in, they were still few in number.

"Tell me, Your Majesty," Catherine was asking, "why do you elevate awhite woman to such a place of honor? I wouldn't think that yourpeople would welcome an outsider."

"There are those who would have us believe that the White Woman was an honored medicine woman who painted herself white," he answered.

"That is false. The White Woman was a commoner."

"You do not know this to be true," Mona said in a tight voice.

"No!" The Sun King snapped.

"My father told of the coming of the first Sun King and the White Womanwho was his mate. They gave us rules and order. From her we learned that the wives of the nobles must come from the ranks of the most common of our tribes. Is this not so?"

Mona nodded her reluctant agreement.

"But," Catherine persisted, "if the White Woman were really white, whowas the Sun King and where did he come from?"

"From the west--from the land of the sun."

"Then the Sun King was not a member of the Natchez?"

Patrick thought the Sun King might have admitted that the originalWhite Woman was not an Indian, but the suggestion that his ancestor wasnot of pure blood brought a rise of indignation to their host and anindiscernible warning to Catherine.

Patrick had his doubts about the legend. If the original Sun King hadcome when the Natchez were in chaos, Patrick would have bet the chaosreferred to a time of war when they were being defeated. The Sun King who suddenly appeared, bringing a white woman who instilled orderin the tribe, could have been anybody, including the early explorerswho had looted the Aztec and traveled east in search of more treasure.

Though a glance around this ancient village didn't suggest the presenceof riches.

But where were the braves?

Where was Jillico?

And where was Lopaz?

The next several hours were the most difficult that Patrick had ever experienced, worse even than the time of his beating and the longmonths of imprisonment.

Members of the tribe brought shells filled with drink to Catherine andPatrick. Too long without food, they swallowed the fruited beverage hungrily, at first allowing their shells to be refilled with littlethought to what they were consuming. Too long without sleep, Patrickfeared, however, losing the keen eye he would need to get Catherine away. No one saw him begin to spill much of the liquid into the grassysurface of the mound.

The dancers changed periodically, disappearing into the shadows, thenreturning to dance more wildly, until finally they seemed to wind downinto a kind of slow- motion shuffle around the fire.

The Sun King stood and held out his hand to Catherine, urging her toaccompany him. She gave a concerned glance to Patrick, then seemingwithout will of her own, followed the Indian's wishes. She'd spent thepast three hours trying to make sense out of what was happening. She wasn't so naive that she didn't understand what was in store for her.

The king referred to the White Woman as being the Sun King's mate, and the expression in this man's eyes said that timewas drawing near. She was beginning to understand that the new rulerwas following an age-old plan with which Mona didn't agree. And Catherine could see no way to halt the procession of events.

They descended the steps, and entered the circle of dancers. The Sun King directed the others out of the circle and began to dance. His motions were nothing like those of the others. Even the drumbeat changed.

Suddenly he gave a savage cry, startling Catherine as he threw off hisplumed headdress and cloak, exposing the body of a man who was as leanand powerful as the wild creature whose posture he assumed.

Assuming the demeanor of a stalking animal, the Sun King crouched,feigned attack and backed away again, working his way around Catherine.He preened, stretched out his body, then drew it close again, alwaysenticing, drawing Catherine into his spell. Then the dance changed,and he indicated that Catherine should join him in a slow shuffle steparound the fire.

She shook her head in rejection.

But he continued to move back and forth, enticing, charming her withhis eyes until she knew that she could no longer refuse.

At the same time her limbs felt heavy, as if they'd lost the power toresist. The tension was alive, everywhere. It swirled around them,making her skin tingle and burn, as if she were too close to thefire.

It was the drink, she decided. It had taken away her will to resist.

She fell into an unwilling step beside the dark, volatile man.

On the mound, Patrick watched, as if he were seeing the players on astage. He knew their lines, and though he would have changed thescenes, he could not. The drinks. There'd been something in thedrinks that had taken their will. He'd been such a fool. If he hadn't been so concerned about being responsible for bringing Catherine here,he would have realized that what was happening was more than simply anattempt to intoxicate.

Now the Sun King was standing opposite Catherine, moving his body likesome kind of snake, seductively, menacingly, moving ever closer. But she wasn't responding to the man, only the rhythm of the drums. Her head was flung back, her eyes clouded as if she were in a trance.

"Damn!" Patrick stood, or tried to. Assuming the same stance asCatherine, he wobbled unsteadily, as if he were unable to move. Then he caught sight of Mona and the look of evil in her eyes. She wasn't worried. She wasn't even concerned. Something was going to happen to"Mona, all that nonsense about the White Woman was a lie. She's not going to become the co ruler of the king. She's going to be asacrifice, isn't she?"

"Of course. I couldn't allow it to be any other way. A virginalsacrifice to the Sun King."

"And you approve? Of Catherine and what is his name, anyway?"

"He was given the name, Simicco, which means savior. As for yourwoman? What care I? Come morning we will all bathe in the riveragain, according to custom. Then comes more feasting. Then he will lie with her. Her child, not Catherine, is destined to become the nextWhite Woman. Then the people will believe and return to the village.

And I will take my place beside the Sun. "

"Maybe, but what about the prophecy?" Patrick said, trying desperatelyto find a way out. He pretended to struggle forward, holding to thecorner of the throne until he could stand steady.

"I will see a new vision. Who is to know?"

"But what about me?"

"You too, will die when the right time comes. Royalty always commandssacrifice. Until then, I will enjoy your services. You see, Simiccowas correct about the line of succession. The nobility may not marrytheir own kind. They must take a commoner as mate to father theirchildren."

Patrick's mind reeled under the sheer bravado of the medicine woman.

He'd always trusted his life to fate and the little people, but thistime he was going to need a real helping hand, and he was too far fromIreland to trust to the luck of the Irish.

"And Jillico? What have you done with him?"

"He's been imprisoned. Poor Jillico has become too much a white man.

He's served his purpose. It is regrettable, but he will join you inthe ceremonial pit. "

"No! This can't be happening."

But one look at the couple swaying around the fire to the drumbeat toldhim that Mona had been in command all along. She was willing to allowCatherine to be with Simicco in order to fulfill the prophecy thatwould restore power. But somehow she had to deviate from the plan in order to rid herself of Catherine.

Mona had planned well and she was willing to wait.

Patrick wasn't. He'd find a way to stop what was happening. But first he had to get to Catherine. He had to break the spell that Simicco wasweaving around her. His captors expected him to be incapable ofintruding. That was what he intended. With unsteady steps he startedtoward her. As he reached the side of the mound a searing sensationsliced into his lower leg. He felt his leg jerk to the side as hestumbled and fell.

God's blood! he'd been shot. The cry he let out was as savage as thatof Simicco and startling enough to the half-conscious natives that theyfell back in terror, ignoring the command given by Mona to stop him.

When Patrick plunged down the steps, Catherine pulled herself back fromthe edge of the hypnotic trance in which she'd been drawn. With the last bit of reason she could latch on to, she knew she had to get tohim.

Giving a sudden push against the pole holding up the thatched roof ofcornstalks, she felt it give way. The cornstalks fell into the fire and burst into flames.

There was a hush as the corn burned.

The drums stopped.

The watching natives disappeared into the forest, trembling in fear.

The corn was sacred. Only the Sun King or the medicine woman couldoffer the corn as a sacrifice to Mother Earth. As if the spirit godswere registering their disapproval, the sound of more explosions filledthe air. Smoke from the fire swirled upward, joining new puffs ofsmoke, and falling debris.

Voices screamed and burning gunpowder exploded.

The world was suddenly on fire.

Chapter Eleven.