Blue Thunder

by Spangaloo Publishing

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  She’d seen the bruise on the girl’s cheek and wondered if her nephew had struck the woman. She

  shook her head, refusing to believe that Blue Thunder would strike the white slave. His heart was good, like his mother’s, Morning Flower. He would never hit women, no matter what he must make people think. But now seeing her nephew unconscious and wounded, she had to wonder if the white prisoner did this to defend herself.

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  NINETEEN

  Two days later Blue Thunder awoke with a sever headache and an agonizing pain in his side. He groaned and covered his eyes from the light of the fire. His mouth was as dry as a bowl of sand and he ached all over and thought many buffalo had trampled him. He tried to recall what happened after the celebration. His mind was like cotton and he did remember something striking his head. When he opened his eyes, he saw movement over in the corner.

  Blue Thunder didn’t want to attend the celebration but he had to appease his father and the council. He longed to be with his white captive but he decided tomorrow he would show her around the village, explaining her duties. First he had to speak to the women of the village, to make sure they understood the prisoner was his special slave and to treat her with dignity. This would not be easy. Taking the eye tooth from a mountain lion would be more to his liking, but the women would obey. He missed his captive and he had tried to ignore Little Turtle pawing him but he began to feel the effects of the fire water. He never drank this much before but it helped him forget the girl who was clinging to him and it dulled his troubled mind.

  “You are finally awake, my son.”

  Through the ringing in his head, he heard his father’s voice. He groaned again. “If this is what happens when I drink too much fire water, I will never let my lips touch poison again.”

  Dasodaha smiled, but it was not a happy greeting. And the smile was more of a disappointing gesture. “The morning after the celebration my own head felt like I had been hit with a club.” His father reached over and touched his brow. “My son, you no longer have a fever.

  I was more concerned about the white’s man’s drink killing my son, then the wound.”

  “What happened?” croaked Blue Thunder through dry lips. He tried to sit, but his father placed his hand on his shoulder, urging him to remain still.

  “You are still weak, my son. Your side will open up again if you do not lie still.”

  Blue Thunder touched his side, frowning in confusion.

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  Dasodaha answered his thoughts. “Your white captive did that to you two days ago. You grow soft, my son, if you let a slave attack you. Let this be a lesson to you, keep your prisoner bound until trained. I will leave you to think on these words.”

  Blue Thunder saw weariness and great disappointment in his father’s small eyes. He regretted putting him through another ordeal and watched the chief leave. Just then he heard a coyote howling in the distance, causing him great anguish and loneliness. He felt a kinship with the prairie canine. He lay there searching for answers. Why did Honey Eyes try to kill him? Did she believe she could escape because he was drunk? Did she make believe she liked his touch, waiting for the moment to run away? Had he given her the chance? He believed she could not survive out there alone. Would his braves kill her? No runaway slave was brought back alive. He closed his eyes, envisioning her beautiful, pale body lying in her own blood after an animal attacked her. His head swimming with so many unanswered questions, he tried to get up to stand, but his legs became hollow. He knew he must be still to heal. But how could he relax when his head was filled with worry over his Honey Eyes?

  Melissa was sitting in Laughing Tree’s dwelling weary with worry about Blue Thunder. No one would tell her whether he was all right or not. She heard the rustling outside and she assumed the tribe was doing its chores. Why didn’t someone come to her? She would even have welcomed anyone, if she could communicate with them. In her mind, she went over the events of that dreadful evening. She would never forget it.

  It had taken her some time that night to make Laughing Tree understand she had to tend to Blue Thunder’s wounds. In the meantime, he had lost a lot of blood. Her cries alerted a medicine man who came and sprinkled magic power over him, chanting some mumbo-jumbo, then placed what looked like herbs on the bleeding cut. But it needed stitches. When she had pulled Laughing Tree into Blue Thunder’s wickiup, she had to push the confused woman towards the injured brave. Frightened, Laughing Tree fell to her knees and wept over her nephew’s still form. In frustration, Melissa yanked the weeping Indian from Blue Thunder’s naked body. She was so choked up with fear all she could do was to point to the stitching and bead work on her dress.

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  “Why pointing to the dress?” Laughing Tree had asked.

  Melissa pulled at the dried buffalo sinew.

  “Sinew? You want sinew?” she asked bewildered and then nodded.

  Knowing what she wanted and why, Laughing Tree left, and Melissa gathered her wits and prayed it would do as good a job as thread. She needed to build a fire but had no matches. She was so frustrated; she wanted to scream but soon Laughing Tree returned with sinew and quills used to sew. She hugged Laughing Tree and pointed to the cold embers. “Fire, we need a fire. The woman nodded immediately. “Whiskey!” Melissa shouted over her shoulder, praying the Indians hadn’t drunk it all. Laughing Tree frowned as the Shaman tried to stop her from touching Blue Thunder. “Fire water!” she screamed. Once again Laughing Tree ran from the dwelling. While Laughing Tree was gone the medicine man refused to let her touch the brave and he was losing a lot of blood from the deep gash on his side. She was still quarreling with the Shaman when Laughing Tree returned.

  “Moon Glow, not proper for white slave to order healer from hut,” said Laughing Tree. She then turned to the medicine man and said. “I trust white woman, Quanah. I believe Moon Glow can help nephew with white man’s medicine.” The Shaman left, waving his hand and yelling threatening words at Melissa. She didn’t understand but knew he had put a curse on her. Could life get any worse?

  She poured the whiskey on Blue Thunder’s gash. He moaned but remained oblivious to his injury. She prayed she could close the wound with the crude needles being she had only stitched up a few men before. Sweat ran into her eyes as she made her stitches, and tried to steady her trembling hands. When finished, she wiped the salty perspiration from her eyes only to feel the stickiness from the warm blood on her fingers.

  His aunt handed her a piece of deer skin and she cleared her vision with it. Melissa allowed herself a moment to study her handiwork. Heaven help her if she had to stitch a quilt, she’d win no prize. She had zigged and zagged but the wound was closed and an ugly scar would be his souvenir to remember this night. If the situation weren’t so grave, she would have laughed. She did smile a proud smile when Laughing Tree told her that she admired the work.

  “White one very brave. I can never sew human flash.”

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  Once again Melissa placed the healing herbs over the injury and wrapped it. Then she placed a bear skin over Blue Thunder and sighed. She had stayed the night with his aunt taking turns bringing him water, forcing him to sip when he stirred. Laughing Tree fell asleep near morning but awoke to find Melissa still tending to her nephew. Exhausted, she could hardly hold her head up. Laughing Tree pulled her away from her patient, but she resisted.

  “I will care for him. You must rest,” she said and pointed to the mat.

  Melissa shook her head but Laughing Tree pushed her gently to the fur blanket. She should sleep and she didn’t have the strength to argue but his aunt would care for him awhile. With closed eyes, she promised herself only a few winks but she didn’t open her eyes again until nightfall. When Melissa woke, she realized that she had been carried to Laughing Tree’s wickiup to sleep as long as her body needed rest. She appreciated the kind gesture and fell back to sleep. When she opened her eyes the next morning another young maiden was sitting there. Sh
e was informed that Laughing Tree was attending her nephew and left saying nothing more

  Her nephew was still unconscious, but thrashed about with a high fever. Laughing Tree bathed his large body, marveling at how beautiful he was. It was no wonder Little Turtle lusted after him. She knew they had been lovers, but now she saw only pain in her daughter’s eyes. This white slave had replaced Little Turtle in his heart. She didn’t like the feeling she had in her stomach, there would be more trouble. There was a jealous look in Little Turtle’s eyes whenever the white captive was mentioned. She would have preferred her stepdaughter not to be left alone

  with Moon Glow but Blue Thunder wanted it. Recalling the bruise on the white girl’s cheek, her heart skipped a beat.

  It was not Blue Thunder who had struck the white one, but Little Turtle. She would have to keep a watchful eye on her stepdaughter. At this moment, it was her nephew whom she had to worry about. Why did Moon Glow try to kill him, and then save his life? She went to seek out her brother, Dasodaha and she could hear the medicine man in the chief’s tent still raving.

  Laughing Tree called out and he gave his permission for her to enter. Dasodaha held his head as if the great spirit was beating a drum inside his skull. She also received the medicine’s man message loud and clear. With a scowl on his face the irate healer, Quanah cursed then raised

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  an angry fist at her before leaving. Once outside the dwelling, they heard Quanah commence again with his whooping to flourish the evil spirits away. Her brother said that never before had anyone of the tribe showed the medicine man so little respect and she apologized.

  “White slave attacked my son so she could escape!” bellowed Dasodaha before she could speak.

  “Then why did she stay to help him?” Laughing Tree snapped in return.

  “I do not have an answer for that but I do not think I need one.” He sat heavily on his mat to think. “I want to tie the white woman to a stake for what she had done but I do not want to anger Blue Thunder. She’s his slave to deal with when he recovers.” He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and said, more to the point, growled, “White eyes must be returned to her people; she had already caused too much trouble but I will wait to talk with my son after evil spirit leaves his body.”

  Laughing Tree knew arguing with her brother was pointless and so was his threat on the captive. No enemy is tortured. She will give him time to let some of his indignation leave his body. It had been a strenuous week, with all that had happened. She needed to return to her hut and pray that no more evil will befall the camp. Then she had to make peace with Quanah.

  She had all the bad luck she could handle.

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  TWENTY

  Melissa paced. Stopped, bit her thumb nail, and then paced again. What will happen to me if Blue Thunder dies? At this point she needn’t ask. She didn’t care about her own welfare; she loved that big, handsome brave and thought she couldn’t go on without him. She no longer wanted to escape. Or do you? Damn that Indian for making my body betray me!

  Could she accept life as his slave if she had his love on the side? It distressed her to think of sharing his firm body with another, especially one who would torment her. Never had she experienced so much self-lecturing. Exhausted, she sighed feeling too weary to think clearly, she sat. Maybe it would be best if she did leave. Blue Thunder might punish her for what she had done, if, and when, he recovered. Tormented, she fell asleep. Shortly, a sharp jab in the ribs brought her rudely awake. She opened her eyes, clutching her side seeing Little Turtle’s twisted face undulated before her eyes.

  “Get up, white bitch!” Little Turtle snarled.

  The enraged maiden pulled her groggy up by her hair. Melissa gasped as she tried to pull back. Was this Indian maiden insane? “Let go!” she wailed. Her reward was another tug. She yelped like a puppy that had sniffed a hornet’s nest. The more she struggled, the more painful the hold became.

  “You jealous Blue Thunder wants me for wife. You think if you cannot have him, I cannot have him either.”

  “I was only defending myself,” Melissa cried.

  “You lie, slave!” The Indian bitch spat in her face.

  Melissa now knew Little Turtle was indeed crazy and she wondered if the girl had been lying to her all along. She continued to struggle until she didn’t have the strength to fight and collapsed onto her back when she was released. The next thing she knew, Little Turtle was straddling her, holding a knife to her throat. She saw the crazed look in the dark eyes as she

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  ranted but didn’t understand because the maiden had lapsed into her own tongue. The she-wolf then switched to English and Melissa preferred that she didn’t understand the crazy Indian

  “I will kill you. I will tell Blue Thunder that you tried to run away after you attempted to kill him. Blue Thunder is mine. I will kill anyone who tries to steal him from me!”

  Her knife was raised in the air. Melissa saw the gleam of the weapon as it was poised high, any moment the blade could pierce her heart. Her last thought before fainting was that she never told Blue Thunder how much she loved him.

  Laughing Tree left her brother’s lodge. She couldn’t change Dasodaha’s mind about the white girl, even though she believed Moon Glow would bring nothing but trouble. Was it because the white woman was more like the daughter she would have liked? She loved Little Turtle as if she was of her own blood, but the girl continued to bring shame upon their band.

  Her husband, Wolf With Spirit, Little Turtle’s father had been murdered by the white eyes when

  the girl was very young, making her daughter-by-marriage very bitter against the white man. But who could blame her? She would have been happier if Wolf With Spirit’s daughter’s heart was more forgiving; to understand that there are good and bad among all kinds of people. Entering the wickiup she saw a terrible scene unfolding before her eyes. Stunned, she gaped at the shiny object held high in the air by Little Turtle. She assumed her daughter was taking her own life. “No!” she screamed and lunged at the hand holding the weapon.

  Little Turtle was strong and fought her with a blow to her stomach. Laughing Tree faltered and inhaled to try to replace air that had whooshed from her lungs. At that moment, she realized the white girl was pinned under her stepdaughter. Seeing Little Turtle raise the weapon again, with renewed strength she threw her body at her stepdaughter’s. She froze when she saw red blood ooze from under Little Turtle. She trembled, fearing Little Turtle had killed the white prisoner. A wolf howled in the distance, a sign of death caused her swallow with fear. Slowly, with trembling hands, she managed to turn her step-daughter’s body over to discover that the knife protruded from Little Turtle’s chest. She gasped; her eyes were wide with the horror of her stepdaughter’s death. Then a sound emitted from her throat that only a wounded animal could make.

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  Weeping, Laughing Tree fell to her knees, peering at her hands as if they were the actual weapon used to kill Little Turtle.

  “Great Spirit, have mercy on me,” she sobbed.

  Melissa regained consciousness and opened her eyes surprised to find herself looking into the swollen faces of Laughing Tree and an older Indian who looked so much like Blue Thunder.

  She blinked to focus her vision, to make sure she was seeing correctly. Startled, she spring up. “Blue Thunder?” she gasped. Was he dead? She wanted to ask, but the spiritless face of the old man made her swallow her words.

  “I am chief, Dasodaha. You caused our people much trouble,” the harsh voice said.

  She shut her eyes tight, fearing Blue Thunder was dead.

  “My son almost died by your hands. Now my beautiful niece, Little Turtle is dead.”

  Did he say almost? He’s alive. She only heard Dasodaha’s first statement. Blue Thunder lives. Overjoyed, she wanted to jump up and hug everyone, but the two grievous faces were so filled with anguish, she sat there quietly. Confusion and an eerie sensation rolled over her making her skin crawl. Why wer
en’t they happy? Melissa looked at Laughing Tree, who was weeping quietly. She gazed into the woman’s glossy eyes for answers but knew she’d get none.

  “Little Turtle is dead,” Dasodaha repeated for her benefit. He must have suspected she didn’t hear him the first time.

  “Dead?” her voice came out strangled, that she could barely whisper. “How could this be? The girl tried to kill me.” She lowered her head and noticed the dark, red stains on the front of her dress. “Oh, God!” she gasped, feeling her stomach churn. Covering her face with her hands, she swallowed to try to get past the lump in her throat and whimpered, “What happened?”

  “My sister saved your life but killed her daughter,” he replied bluntly, his voice laden with rancor.

  Melissa couldn’t look at the old chief or Laughing Tree. This had to be a horrible night- mare, one she would wake up from any moment. It seemed as if her body had drained of heat,

  leaving her cold and shivering. Once again, she rued the day Blue Thunder took her from the wagon train.

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  Dasodaha shook his head. “I saw flicker of hope skate through white woman’s eyes before sadness and confusion clouded them. You have feeling for Blue Thunder, this not good. My sister said Little Turtle was possessed by an evil spirit; this does not lie easy in my heart. I told Blue Thunder you would cause trouble and he did not listen to father’s advice, only his own stubborn heart. He made bad mistake by keeping you. Thankfully, my son will survive wound, but his life will be ruined if he goes against our laws. You tried to take his life, and then gave it back; I am grateful for that. I must send you away before Blue Thunder gets chance to stop me.”

  The chief inhaled deeply. “Being leader, I give your life for life. Three of my braves will take you from village, it will be better for all. When Blue Thunder awakes from deep sleep, he will only know you asked to be taken back to your people.”