Forbidden Caress

by Colleen French

  Gasping for breath, Katelyn climbed up, sticking her head out above the chimney. She had to have fresh air before she suffocated! Choking, she hoisted herself a little higher. If she didn't make a move soon, the roof would begin to collapse.

  Making her decision, Katelyn took one last glimpse of Tipaakke. He was beginning to move now. He was alive! She could see him through the clouds of smoke being pulled to his feet.

  Standing Snake, leader of the Mohawk raiding party, shouted a harsh order to his men. Green Briar should not have set fire to the cabin. There was evidence that another had lived here with the Delaware. Since they had not found him, Standing Snake thought it best that they start moving north as soon as possible. This was not their territory, he didn't want his men becoming entangled with the white men on unfamiliar ground. He turned to look at the Delaware brave being hauled to his feet by his men. He was an excellent warrior; he would let him live. At least for the time being. That would be quite a feat to capture a Lenni Lenape and take him home, still alive. As far as he could recall, no one had done it in years.

  Signaling for Green Briar to move the prisoner forward, Standing Snake glanced over his shoulder at the burning cabin. Movement on the roof caught his eye. Turning, he squinted, brushing the back of his hand across his eyes. Through the smoke, he saw something moving over the roof. A wolf? He blinked several times in confusion watching the silhouette of a walking wolf disappear over the edge of the burning roof. Calling for a man, he raced for the back of the cabin. Standing Snake turned the corner just in time to see the wolf shedding its skin. The green-coated Mohawk came to a halt, throwing a hand out to stop his companion. The Mohawks stared unbelievingly as they watched the wolf transform itself into a woman . . . a white woman with hair the color of fire!

  What game is this the gods play with me, Standing Snake thought, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. He hesitated for a moment, watching the she-wolf turn to face him. Was this creature sent to protect the Delaware? Was it a wolf, or a mortal? What ever it was, it was frightened . . . he could see it in its honey-colored eyes.

  Katelyn eased the breath from her body, sure it would be her last. She stared at the two Mohawk braves standing only a few paces from her. 'Never let the enemy see your fear', Tipaakke's voice echoed in her mind. Katelyn dropped her lids slightly and continued to stare through the slits. Slowly, evenly, she reached out to pull her wolf-skin headdress from where it had caught on the roofs edge. Why hadn't the two Indians made a move? Why were they eyeing her so intently . . . almost in amazement?

  The other Mohawks in the raiding party appeared from behind the cabin. They had seen the walking wolf, too.

  The leader in the green coat expelled a string of jumbled words and hand signals, telling his fellow warriors what he'd seen.

  As he spoke, Katelyn spied Tipaakke coming around the corner, his hands and feet tied together, the sapling thrust through his arms. The brave with the watch moved him along, giving him a shove when he didn't walk fast enough or tripped with his bound feet.

  Tipaakke forced his face to remain frozen as he listened to the leader's words. Not knowing the language of the Mohawks well, it was difficult for him to comprehend. They had caught Katelyn . . . He sifted through the man's recognizable words. They think she is a wolf-woman? They saw her shed her skin? He tipped his head ever so slightly in Katelyn's direction. He could hear her breathing like a frightened animal. This must have something to do with her headdress, he surmised.

  A gust of wind came up, feeding the fire and the group of Mohawk warriors stepped back from the intense heat and shooting flames of the cabin.

  Katelyn remained absolutely still, as she tried to figure out what was going on. Why were they staring at her like that? Why hadn't they attacked? She knew she must have been a sight with her hair flying wild and tangled and her face and clothing sooty black with ashes. But it wasn't her appearance that frightened them enough to hold them back. She'd done something to make them behave like this.

  As Katelyn's back became hotter and hotter as the seconds past, she realized she would have to move before her dress burst into flames. Would they attack if she moved? She'd have to take that chance. Slowly she took a single step forward . . . the Mohawks took a step back. She stared in confusion at them for a moment and then took another step forward. The Mohawks took another step back.

  Tipaakke watched carefully as Katelyn moved and the Mohawks reacted. His chest ached and his mind was swimming in circles. He stretched his head back, relieving the tension in the back of his neck. How can I make them set her free, he asked himself. He tugged his bound wrists. No, they had tied him securely. There was no chance of escape now. But there had to be a way to use this mistaken identity to her advantage. The Mohawks were very religious people. Maybe if they thought she was some spirit sent by the gods . . .

  Tipaakke heard himself speak in the unfamiliar tongue. "She wolf-woman. Crazy in head." He shook his head wildly. "No touch her . . . she crazy . . . work bad magic . . . no look in eyes . . . make man blind . . . "

  The Mohawks all turned their heads away from her. The leader's eyes dropped to the ground. He turned to face the prisoner. "What is this you tell me? Do you speak the truth?" He wasn't sure if he believed the Delaware or not.

  Tipaakke's heart began to beat a little faster. He searched for the right words. "I tell truth. She come from woods, dark night. Do evil magic. I look her eyes. She make me blind many days. I just see now few days. She bad, she evil. Back! Listen Lenni Lenape brave, Tipaakke Oopus."

  Standing Snake shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He looked back at the wolf-woman, careful not to let her eyes meet his. The story sounded a bit far fetched to him, but he had heard of stranger tales.

  Apprehensively, Tipaakke waited as the Mohawk leader considered his words. The Mohawks were very superstitious people. Maybe they would believe . . . or be afraid not to. Then, seeing the look of confusion on Katelyn's face, he realized he'd better warn her of what was taking place. Speaking quickly, the English words rushed from his mouth. "They think you're a crazy wolf-woman. Go along with anything I say. They think you've been sent by the gods. Half woman, half wolf. Act crazy. It may save your life."

  The man with the watch swung his club in the air, knocking Tipaakke in the head. "No speak. No English," he ordered half in Iroquois, half in Algonquian. "No English!"

  Shaking his head to clear his mind, Tipaakke struggled to remain on his feet. Good, they must not know English, he thought. In his hurry to make Katelyn understand their situation, it hadn't even occured to him that one of them might know the white man's tongue.

  Standing Snake scratched his chin, thinking of what should he do with this wolf-woman. Better not to kill her, he decided. Just in case she is what the Lenni Lenape says she is. He looked at the woman standing with her chin held high, a certain glint in her eyes. Yes, better to take her, he thought. He looked up at his men who were waiting for his decision. "Take her," he ordered. "She is harmless. We'll sell her to the captain at Fort Richardson," he told them in Iroquois. "He is giving four muskets for each woman we bring him." Standing Snake laughed as the Mohawks descended on Katelyn. It will be a good joke, he thought to himself. Selling the captain a crazy wolf-woman!

  Chapter Eleven

  Katelyn studied the Mohawk who wore her beaver skin hat as he reached out to grab her arm. She smiled, baring her teeth, as she had seen Tipaakke do, and Beaver Hat loosened his grip on her wrist.

  I don't know why I have to be the one to tie the wolf-woman, the warrior thought as he reached beneath his jerkin and pulled out a length of sinew. He didn't like the idea of bringing her along. As he saw it, nothing but trouble could come from it. For all he knew the woman could turn herself back into a wolf at any moment and rip them to pieces.

  Katelyn lifted her other arm and presented it wrist up so the Mohawk could bind her hands. The haunting grin remained on her lips as she tried to get him to look her directly in her face. Tipaakke had
explained to her just moments ago why the Mohawks were afraid to look her in the eye, so she intended to use it for all it was worth. She knew how superstitious they were. They were very cautious of anyone who they thought might be touched by the spirits —good or evil.

  Beaver Hat cast a quick glance at the prisoner's face. Why had she offered her hands to be bound like that? He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. A woman with hair that color couldn't possibly be of this world. If he was leader, he would have left the both of them behind. He saw no reason to risk the wrath of the gods over a few white man's thunder sticks. But then maybe that was why Standing Snake had been appointed leader of the raiding party and not him. Giving the leather strap a good tug, he released the wolf-woman's hands. He didn't even like touching her. "Tie the feet?" he asked Standing Snake, who had come up beside him.

  The leader cast a quick look at the wolf-woman. "No need. Look at her. She is willing to go," he answered in the tongue of the five Iroquois nations. He glanced at her suspiciously, wondering if he'd made the right decision. He didn't like the way she looked at him. He rested his hand on the war axe at his belt, vowing to keep an eye on his back.

  Katelyn threw back her head and gave a little laugh deep in her throat. She chuckled to herself as Green Coat walked away, obviously unnerved. He shouted a command to his men and started down the path, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the fire-haired wolf-woman.

  Beaver Hat grabbed Katelyn's hands again and looped a lead line through the binding. Dropping her hands, he tied the other end around his waist and gave a tug.

  Katelyn tugged back in response and the Mohawk's eyes widened. She nodded her head in the direction of the wolf-hide headdress that lay on the grass near her feet.

  Beaver Hat shook his head. "No. Come." He turned to go. He wasn't picking her skin up.

  Katelyn held back, refusing to budge. She needed the headdress to remind them of what they had seen. "My skin," she commanded in Algonquian. "I must have my skin." She flung back her head letting the breeze rifle through her tangled hair.

  The Mohawk glanced up to see the other men beginning to move out of the clearing. The wolf-woman waited for his response. Finally, he reached in his belt and pulled out a pistol. Catching the head of the wolf hide with the barrel of his pistol, he raised it in the air and dropped it over her looped arms.

  Katelyn smiled and nodded and then started forward to follow the other men.

  Beaver Hat shook his head and moved forward. Whom did she think was leading whom? He walked by her, giving her a hard nudge with his elbow as he passed by. Wolf-woman or not, she was still his prisoner and she would have to respect that.

  As the raiding party left the burning cabin and entered the woods, Katelyn and Beaver Hat fell into place in the rear. Tipaakke walked just ahead of the warrior wearing the pocket watch. Tipaakke didn't look back as they started to move, so Katelyn made no attempt to speak to him. She knew that if they were going to play this charade, they must play it carefully. The Mohawks were superstitious, but they weren't stupid. If they recognized any attachment between their prisoners, they would know Tipaakke had deceived them and they would probably kill both of them without hesitation. So until Katelyn could speak alone with Tipaakke and make plans for an escape, she would bide her time. Both of them walked a very fine line between life and death. For now, she would have to be content to watch Tipaakke walk ahead of her and be thankful he still lived.

  As the flaming orange sun began to sink in the pale western sky, the raiding party turned and moved east, picking up its pace.

  Katelyn mentally thanked Tipaakke again for increasing her walking endurance as she stepped over a fallen log and ducked beneath a low-lying elm branch. The trees seemed to hang lower as the forest darkened and Katelyn quickened her pace to keep up with her captor, ignoring the dark shadows, the branches, and hanging vines cast across her path. She breathed deeply, absorbing the life's breath of the dense forest surrounding her. Tipaakke had said that to survive in the forest, one must become part of it. One must hear the dew settling in at the end of the day; one must feel the rich sap of the trees flowing through one's veins. Allowing the sights and sounds of the retiring forest to revitalize her, Katelyn moved ahead to walk beside Beaver Hat. She had to keep them apprehensive. She had to make them wary of her. She had to do the unexpected.

  Although her hands were tied, and the Mohawks moved at a grueling pace, Katelyn had had no trouble keeping up. But her heart went out to Tipaakke. The most difficult part of the journey was watching him stumble along, bound so tightly, knowing she couldn't risk reaching out to help him. He and Pocket Watch had fallen back until they walked just ahead of Katelyn and her captor. Shortly after they left the cabin behind, Pocket Watch cut the lashings at Tipaakke's feet, realizing they would never be able to move fast enough with the Delaware falling every few paces. Still, the walking was hard on Tipaakke as they crossed unfamiliar ground, often stepping off the deer paths and cutting through underbrush to another path. The sapling thrust through his hands made it difficult for him to maneuver because the ends constantly hit tree trunks and caught in brush. But, that was what it was intended for. It was meant to make it impossible to run through the dense forest.

  Katelyn stared up at the streaky pinks and oranges of the sky, estimating how long it would be before darkness settled in. She was so thirsty. Though she carried the water bag around her neck, with her hands tied and the heavy headdress in her arms, she'd been unable to guide the bag to her mouth. She would have asked her captor to raise the bag to her lips, but since she had seen no Mohawk drink, she refused to show them any weakness. Besides, she didn't know if she could have brought herself to take a drink as long as Tipaakke went without.

  As the raiding party turned and headed north again, Katelyn realized they were moving toward a specific destination, probably a base camp. As the inky blackness began to settle in, she knew they would have to stop soon. Though the Mohawks could have easily walked through the night, she doubted they would try it with prisoners—especially with a wolf-woman.

  Katelyn chuckled to herself at the thought and her captor gave her a sideways glance, checking, she was sure, to be certain his prisoner hadn't transformed into a wolf.

  Long before they entered the camp among the scrub pines, Katelyn caught scent of a burning fire and roasting meat. Her mouth watered at the thought of roasted squirrel and she wondered if the Mohawks would feed them anything. She had a few strips of dried venison and a handful or two of dried berries in one of the bags around her neck, so at least she and Tipaakke would have something to eat. If Beaver Hat would untie her hands so she could get to it, that was.

  As the raiding party stepped into the clearing, several other Mohawks moved to greet the arrivals. To Katelyn's distress, she spotted two white women and a middle-aged white man tied to a tree just beyond the light of the campfire. One of the women was half sitting, slumped over, her once yellow-blonde hair sheared close to her head, and her face a mass of purple bruises. Her green work dress was torn beyond repair and blackened from days of travel. The man and other woman seemed to have faired better, but they had probably been captured more recently

  Beaver Hat led Katelyn past the fire where rabbit and squirrel were roasting and tied her lead line to a tree only a few paces from the other prisoners. Katelyn sank to the ground and opened her arms to let the wolf-headdress fall into her lap. She leaned her head on the tree, thankful for the rest as her captor cut the knot on the leather that bound her wrists and retied one wrist so her hands were free. Katelyn looked up at Beaver Hat nodding her thanks and giving him that same grin that made him so uneasy.

  Beaver Hat just shook his head and made his way to the fire, wishing he'd never made this trip to begin with. He was relieved when Standing Snake had told him they would be starting north at dawn. All he wanted to do now was get home to his wife and her mat and get as far away from the wolf-woman as possible.

  Pocket Watch sho
ved Tipaakke unceremoniously to the ground and the Delaware brave recoiled at the feel of his leg against hers. "No," he protested in the Iroquois tongue. "No wolf-woman. Other tree. Wolf-woman kill Lenni Lenape brave. Night Fox suffer enough from hand of wild woman." He leaned as far from her as he could without toppling over.

  Pocket Watch laughed, clapping his hands in amusement. "Coward," he teased as he reached down to secure the prisoner to the tree. "Great Lenni Lenape brave fears a white woman!" He shook his head, still laughing as he removed the sapling from Tipaakke's looped arms and leaned it against the tree. "I think you stay. Maybe you will learn courage." He threw up one hand. "And maybe she will eat you and we will find nothing but your bones in the morning." He walked off in the direction of the others, his round face still marked with amusement.

  Katelyn waited until the Mohawk was well out of earshot and then reached out with her free hand to touch Tipaakke's arm. "Are you all right?" she questioned in Lenni Lenape. His skin felt damp and slightly feverish beneath her touch.

  "Speak only in English," he told her quietly. "They know some of my people's language."

  She nodded, withdrawing her hand before anyone noticed. "Are you hurt?"

  "Broken ribs. But I am fine. You?" He listened to her sweet voice, savoring each word. He had never expected to hear her, to touch her again.

  "Tired. Scared. But not hurt." She glanced at the other prisoners, squinting to see them in the dark. "Did you see the others, Fox?"

  "Others?" He kept his head turned from her so that no one would know they were talking. "No, I was watching you."

  Katelyn reached out to poke Tipaakke, trying to appear to the Mohawks like she was harassing him. Pocket Watch nudged Beaver Hat and both laughed, turning back to face the fire.