Forbidden Caress

by Colleen French

  Katelyn spoke quietly, intermingling her words with an occasional loud taunt. "There are other prisoners. Two women, and a man. One of the women looks bad. It looks like they've had her a while. I'm not even sure if she's alive." She laughed loud and hard, her voice echoing in the trees above.

  Beaver Hat turned and shouted at her. She was sure he was telling her to be quiet.

  "You play the game well," Tipaakke whispered, his voice rich with pride, but laced with amusement. "Can you tell if the woman is still breathing?" He rested his back against the rough trunk of the tree, giving his sore muscles release. "I can't see from here."

  "No. It's too dark. I can barely see them. I'm glad we're outside the light of the fire. The Mohawks can't see us very well."

  Tipaakke smiled. "You know why we are tied out here, don't you? Wolves. If they come near, they will attack us first, giving them time to be ready."

  Katelyn's body trembled slightly at that thought and she turned to whisper through the darkness. "Are you all right?" she asked the other prisoners.

  "You speak English?" the man answered faintly.

  "I'm English . . . was. Is that woman dead?"

  "We pray she is," the haggard voice replied. "This one hasn't spoken or heard a word since they took her." He indicated the dark haired woman tied beside him. "Have you water? We haven't had any since last night."

  Katelyn's hand went instinctively to the water bag at her waist. The precious water she carried might be enough to keep her and Tipaakke alive. If she shared it, there wouldn't be enough for anyone. It all depended on whether or not their captors intended to feed them and give them water. "Yes . . . " she replied hesitantly. "But I'm not sure that I can get it to you. My line is pretty short." She pulled the bag slowly over her head and untied the strap that kept it closed.

  "Bless you child. There must be a way. We only need a sip." The man's voice was hopeful.

  Katelyn checked to be sure no one was looking and quickly pressed the bag to Tipaakke's lips.

  "You are a good woman," Tipaakke told her as he pulled back savoring the cool water as it slid down his throat. "You will be rewarded in the next life if not in this one."

  Katelyn took a small swallow and then another. She was so thirsty she could have drank it all. But after the second sip she retied the leather mouth and stared through the darkness again. "Sir, how are you tied?"

  "My hands are lashed together, but they're in front of me. If you can get the bag to my hands I can get a drink and give this woman one. I don't think I can reach the other," he finished weakly.

  "All right. Listen. The Indians think I am crazy. I'm touched. They think I'm half wolf, half woman. Go along with what I say."

  "A wolf-woman?"

  "No time to explain, sir." Katelyn got slowly to her feet. "Just trust me." She glanced at the men who were beginning to sit around the fire and break off bits of the roasted meat to eat. The sight of food made Katelyn faint with hunger. Slowly, she took the few steps to the man and woman tied to the tree. When she reached the end of her lead-line she stretched out her arms.

  The man scrambled to his feet and stretched until his fingertips barely touched the leather bag. "Bless you child," he murmured, pulling it eagerly to his mouth.

  Beaver Hat came up behind Katelyn, startling her. "Why you give water to prisoners?" he asked in Algonquian.

  Katelyn's mind whirled. Then she smiled, narrowing her eyes. "He's plump. Would be good meal. I don't want him to die. A wolf likes to stalk its prey." She reached out a hand to run it along the Mohawks muscular arm. "Would you like a drink, too?"

  Beaver Hat took a step back. Was she playing games with him? He stared through the darkness at her. He had known men thirsty for human blood, but somehow this woman was different. She was driven by a passion he didn't recognize. And that frightened him.

  The seconds ticked on endlessly as Katelyn waited. Did Beaver Hat believe her story? She reached out to take the water bag from the man tied to the tree. Then she spoke. "You bring me squirrel." She pointed to the inner circle of light where meat still roasted on wooden spits. "I feed these prisoners. Make them plump." She laid her hand on his arm again.

  Beaver Hat shoved Katelyn's hand aside and ran his hand over the place on his arm that she had touched. "Food for woman prisoners. Must keep alive for Fort captain. Sell women. Men . . . " he shrugged his shoulders, turning to go.

  "Men eat mine," Katelyn called after him, returning to her tree.

  Beaver Hat shrugged his shoulders again, stepping back into the light of the fire. "You eat, you not eat. This brave no care. I give."

  "I don't have to have mine cooked. Have any raw?" She slid her back down the trunk of the tree and seated herself on the damp moss.

  Beaver Hat pretended not to hear his last words and moved to the other side of the fire, crouching next to Green Briar. "I don't like this, brother." He spoke beneath his breath.

  "What?" Green Briar wiped his greasy fingers on his leather jerkin and reached for his water bag.

  "The wolf-woman. She is trouble. Maybe dangerous."

  He looked up to see where Standing Snake was. "I question our leader's decision."

  Green Briar looked up at his friend. "I don't believe she's a wolf-woman. It's a story. Look at her." He pointed into the shadows. "She's just a white woman. The Captain will pay us well for her. We need the guns."

  "You aren't with her. I don't see you offering to have her tied to your waist." He stared into the flames of the fire. "There is something about her eyes that I don't like. She has such a look of . . . " He searched for the right word. " . . . determination. You don't see that in the eyes of many women. And certainly not white women. She's dangerous, I tell you."

  Green Briar got to his feet, shaking his head. "I think your grandfather told you too many stories as a child. Wolf-woman!" He laughed, reaching beneath his jerkin to extract a slim silver flask. "Drink." He pushed the flask into his friend's hand. "In a few days we will be home and you will be rid of your wolf-woman." He slapped him on the back. "Drink."

  Katelyn watched through half-closed eyes as the Mohawks unrolled their sleeping mats and settled down for the night. The sentry propped himself up against a huge oak just inside the light of the fire and began to whittle at a stick with a huge jagged-edged hunting knife. He had tried to rouse the blonde-haired prisoner earlier by poking her with a sharpened stick, but had given up on the game when she had done nothing but emit a few weak groans.

  At least she's alive, Katelyn thought as she moved a little, trying to find a comfortable spot. Turning her head, she stared through the darkness at Tipaakke's sleeping face. She had told him to rest after she had divided her share of the roasted squirrel with him. The other man, Joseph, had taken part of the dark-haired woman's share, after a little encouragement. The woman would only eat if he put the meat in her mouth; drink if he pushed the bag to her lips.

  Katelyn studied Tipaakke's peaceful face. He had been so exhausted, yet now the harsh lines were gone from his face. A slight smile played on her lips. She would never understand how he could sleep so hard. No matter what happened during the day, whether it was an argument with her, or being captured by Mohawks, at the end of the day he still slept like a babe in a cradle.

  Glancing to be sure the sentry wasn't looking, Katelyn reached out to brush her fingertips along the length of his arm. She ached to touch his face, to run her hands over his smarting muscles, to ease the pain of the beatings. But, she dared not. Slipping her hand into one of his tied behind his back, she eased her eyelids shut, savoring the feel of Tipaakke's hand as his fingers tightened around hers. "I love you," he whispered so low that she wasn't sure he had spoken.

  "I love you, too," she answered sleepily.

  As the first streaks of dawn lighted the sky, the Mohawks roused themselves and began to break up camp.

  At the first sound of movement, Tipaakke was awake and nudging Katelyn. "Wake up, love," he crooned.

  Katelyn gro
aned, rolling her head back and forth. Her body was stiff from sleeping on the uneven ground and her wrists ached from being tied together the day before. "Ohhh, Fox . . . I don't feel so well." She rubbed her free hand over her stomach.

  "Shhh," he warned. "Drink water. You'll be all right once you're up. We'll be moving soon. Have some dried berries."

  Sitting up a little straighter, she pulled the water bag to her lips. "I thought you said I was done with this stomach sickness."

  Tipaakke laughed. "I thought you were. Must be a son. My mother said her sons always gave her more trouble in the nest than her daughters."

  Katelyn rolled her eyes. "Thanks, that's reassuring. I feel better already," she finished sarcastically. She glanced over at the other prisoners still sleeping. The blonde woman hadn't moved all night. "Beaver Hat said they were going to sell all of the women to some captain at a fort." She looked over at Fox. "No one is going to sell me as long as I've still got breath in my body."

  Tipaakke shook his head, glad to see her spirits were still high. "I feel sorry for the man who tries."

  Katelyn slowly got to her feet, resting one hand against the tree trunk to steady herself. The nausea came in waves as she took deep breaths, filling her lungs with sweet morning air.

  "Today we will be crossing Lenni Lenape ground," Tipaakke mused. "Maybe we will come upon some of my people."

  "Maybe." Katelyn let go of the tree, already beginning to feel steady on her feet. "But maybe not. Have you thought of a plan?"

  "No. But today I will think. Now that I'm rested." He got to his feet, stretching as best he could with his arms tied behind his back. "Don't worry."

  "Don't worry?" Katelyn ran her hands over her rounding belly. "This dress will not cover your son too much longer."

  Tipaakke nodded. "We will be together, the three of us. I can feel it in my bones."

  She ran her fingers through her snarled hair. "I wish your bones would tell us how to get away."

  "We must wait until the time is right. Be patient, my love. The right time will come and we will make our move. But I will not risk the life of you and our child attempting to escape. When we go, we'll disappear into the forest, never to be seen by these men again." His bronze face tightened with concern. "Do not become too anxious. We're safe for now. We cannot make any mistakes. A mistake would cost us our lives."

  "But how will we know when the time is right?" Katelyn glanced around to be sure no one was paying them any attention. "How will I know?"

  "I will watch, I will wait, and I will listen. I will know when the time has come. I will tell you when to make ready. Don't worry Manito will protect us." He nodded his head with finality.

  "I wish I was as confident as you."

  "I have seen many things in my life Katie-girl. I have faced worse than these men. I am a survivor and so are you. It is not our time to go. Death has had many chances to take us, you and I." His dark eyes searched hers. "I told you. We're going to grow old together," he smiled.

  "I know you've told me, and I almost believe you." She returned a smile of love, wishing she could touch him. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

  "I know you will. Someday we will sit around the fire with our grandchildren and tell them of the time we were captured by Mohawks."

  "Grandchildren! I just think . . . Oh no, here they come." She straightened her back and stared boldly into Beaver Hat's eyes as he made his way to her. "I'm ready Mohawk brave. You are lazy. It is late. Let us move on."

  Once the last embers of the campfire were buried and the prisoners were kicked awake, the Mohawk raiding party started heading north.

  Katelyn was distressed to find that today she and Beaver Hat were walking up front with Green Coat and several other warriors. Tipaakke walked behind her with Pocket Watch, and Joseph and the two women walked behind them, each with their own guard. Several more armed warriors brought up the rear. Katelyn would much rather have walked behind Tipaakke, where she could keep an eye on him. But she couldn't think of a good excuse to give Beaver Hat for why she wanted to walk in the rear; so, she was forced to walk up front.

  As the Mohawk party moved through the dense forest, following the narrow deer paths, Katelyn glanced occasionally back at the other prisoners. Tipaakke walked as if he were going for a stroll, despite his hands bound behind his back and the sapling stuck through them. Joseph and the dark-haired woman trudged on, as if in a trance. But the blonde woman could hardly walk. Again and again she fell and the warriors yanked and pulled on her until she was on her feet again. Several times, the leader, Green Coat, shouted an order to the man who was in charge of her. Katelyn couldn't understand the Mohawk tongue, but she could recognize threats in any language. If the blonde woman didn't pick up her pace, she wouldn't live to see another sunset.

  As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the Mohawk warriors became restless. The woman prisoner was slowing them down.

  Standing Snake dropped back to the rear where the woman prisoner walked. Katelyn didn't dare look back for fear of being cuffed by Beaver Hat again, but she listened intently as she walked, trying to figure out what was going on.

  The leader spoke and then she heard another brave. When several men spoke in unison, Green Coat silenced them all. After a few more words, he moved to the front again. Katelyn wondered what was going on. What decision had he made.

  Then she heard the scream . . . Katelyn spun around to catch a glimpse of the blonde-haired woman going down and one of the Mohawks yanking her to her feet. Only this time he didn't shove her forward.

  "Did I tell you keep your eyes in front of your head, Wolf-woman?" Beaver Hat berated, knocking Katelyn in the back of the head with his fist. "You listen or be left for buzzards with her."

  Katelyn was knocked to her knees by the blow, but she came to her feet in time to keep from being pulled over by the taut lead line. She shook her head to clear her rattled brain and tried to get her balance again. Another piercing scream came from behind as Katelyn scrambled to catch up with her captor. She had to keep up. She had to live . . . for Fox, for her baby. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the woman's pitiful pleas for help before her voice died in the distance. There was no saving her now.

  The bile rose in her throat and Katelyn swallowed hard. They were going to kill her. But what were they going to do first? Why was she screaming like that? Like an animal caught in a trap . . .

  "Don't listen," Tipaakke shouted before Pocket Watch elbowed him sharply in his broken ribs.

  Behind Katelyn was a mass of confusion. Joseph was struggling, trying to break free. "Leave her alone, you stinking savages," he shouted. "Just let her die," he begged. A sob escaped his throat as the woman screamed again in the distance.

  "Move on," Katelyn shouted to Joseph. "She's gone. Save yourself."

  Beaver Hat stopped and turned around, grabbing Katelyn by the shoulders. The others began to pass, walking on as the Mohawk shook her until her teeth slammed together. "No English tongue, I tell you!" He slapped her soundly on the cheek and started forward again, giving her tether strap a hard snap.

  With her shoulder, Katelyn hastily brushed away a tear that trickled down her cheek. She stared straight into the sky as she walked, trying to get a grip on herself. She couldn't help the blonde woman and she knew it. So why couldn't she just walk on? Why did it have to hurt so much?

  Shortly, the raiding party came to a small running brook and the Mohawks allowed their prisoners to take their fill of water. Katelyn stepped into the water and bent to splash her face. After she'd quenched her thirst, she emptied her water bag and refilled it with fresh water. At least they weren't going to let them all die of thirst.

  Once her bag was full, Katelyn perched herself on the bank as far from Beaver Hat as her line would allow her. Tipaakke did the same.

  "We've got to get away," Katelyn whispered, pretending to be interested in a small brown toad basking in the sun. "Or I really am going to go crazy." She shifted the heavy wolf headdress
she held in her arms. "I couldn't help her, Fox," she cried desperately. "There was nothing I could do." She choked down a sob, knowing she had to be quiet.

  "No," Tipaakke answered softly. "There was nothing you could do. You are wise to know that." He longed to reach for her, to hold her, to guide her through her pain. But all I can do is offer her meaningless words, he thought with frustration. "Katie-girl, we'll find a way. You must be careful. You walk along a deadly cliff with the man who holds you. He fears you. I hear it in his voice. A man who fears is a dangerous man." Tipaakke looked skyward, guessing at the time of day and calculating how many more hours they would have to walk. He was worried about Katelyn. She could not walk indefinitely like his people.

  "I don't know why he's afraid of me. All I do is smile like a fool and pretend I'm eager to stay with them. Why would that make anyone afraid?" Katelyn flexed her hands, trying to relieve the cramps. Were the leather straps looser? She flexed them again. Had she been able to move them like this earlier in the day? She didn't think so. "Fox . . . " she whispered. "I think the ties on my hands are looser."

  Tipaakke forced himself not to turn his face towards her. "Are you sure?" He couldn't conceal the sound of joyous hope in his voice.

  "Maybe it's just my imagination. But I think they are. I got them pretty wet in the water." She cast a sideways glance at Beaver Hat. He was still busy talking to another Mohawk brave.

  "Keep trying to work them, dove. Work them!"

  Katelyn watched as Pocket Watch snatched Tipaakke's line, forcing him to move on. She got to her feet and tugged at her own tether. The stolen moments of conversation with Tipaakke were never long enough . . . "Come, friend," Katelyn told her captor in Algonquian. "Time we moved north. You Mohawks are turtles."

  Beaver Hat scowled, looking back at his friend Green Briar. "You see," he said in his own tongue. "This isn't right. A prisoner doesn't act like this." He got to his feet and quickened his stride to pass the wolf-woman. "Stay behind." He glared. "No speaking. You are not worth a few fire sticks to me."

  Katelyn gave him her usual grin, but kept behind as he'd ordered. Fox was right. She would have to be careful. Beaver Hat seemed to be more nervous. But maybe that was because they were still passing through Lenni Lenape land.