Wild Splendor

by Cassie Edwards

  “Adam is no longer living at Fort Defiance,” Sage said, his smile fading at the mention of Fort Defiance and his memory of what he had found upon arriving there. There had been some amount of treachery in having him come to Fort Defiance for his people. At least he had been allowed the freedom to return to his stronghold. What saddened him was that once again more than half of those waiting for him at Fort Defiance had refused to return with him.

  To have done this once had been, in time, forgivable. But twice? Those who did not return with him had torn pieces of his heart a second time, and this he would never forget—or forgive.

  “Adam is gone?” Runner said a second time, finally getting his father’s attention. “Where to, Father?”

  “His father was assigned to another fort far away,” Sage said, turning to nod at those who had dismounted and were walking past him toward their loved ones, who awaited them in twos and threes a few feet away.

  “I’ll never get to see him again,” Adam said, lowering his eyes to the ground.

  Seeing Sage cast worried glances all around him, as though he had dreaded this return home instead of looking forward to it, Leonida placed a hand on Runner’s shoulder and drew him to her side, leaving Sage to do his duty to his people.

  Leonida’s eyes followed Sage as he went to the large crowd who were intensely hugging and talking to those who had returned, while some others stood by with tears streaming from their eyes.

  Slipping Thunder Hawk from her arms, Leonida bent down and gathered both of her sons close around her as Sage raised his hands, and a muted hush fell among his people.

  Everyone turned their eyes on him. His warriors led their horses on around, and held their reins tightly as they stood alongside the others. Leonida saw within the warriors’ eyes the same expression that Sage held in his.

  “Disappointment met my return to Fort Defiance,” Sage said, his voice drawn. “The total freedom I thought was our people’s was not there. There were restrictions made on this thing the white pony soldier leaders called ‘freedom.’ The great white leader has decided to make the Navaho once again self-sufficient on land that was once ours, but only if we agreed to live within a reservation, with strict boundaries on all four sides, within which the Navaho are to stay.”

  Leonida scarcely breathed, realizing now that Sage’s people had returned from their imprisonment in New Mexico only to enter into another, no different except that it was on land familiar to them.

  Their way of life would never be the same, it seemed.

  Sage continued speaking after a brief pause while the young braves took the sheep and goats on past them to the stronghold.

  “As you will notice, we now have sheep and goats,” Sage said moodily. “These were gifts from Kit Carson. In papers that are called a ‘will,’ he remembered Sage and his people. He willed these animals to us so that we could once again become a vital people in all ways.”

  He paused again, then continued. “As you will also notice, few of our people returned to live among us at the stronghold,” he said thickly. “They had choices to make. Those who did not return to the stronghold chose once again a life separate from ours. They could not resist what the white men offered them if they agreed to stay confined to a reservation. Nor may you be able to resist going to live on the reservation once you hear what their offerings were to bribe our people into bending to the will of the white man again. They have issued those families who choose reservation life over ours at least fifteen thousand sheep and goats, and five hundred head of beef cattle, and many hundreds of pounds of maize.”

  Many gasps rose from the crowd of Navaho, causing Sage’s heart to skip a beat and his eyes to narrow. “Listen further, my people,” he shouted, raising a fist in the air. “The Navaho who live on the reservation must relinquish any right to occupy lands outside this reservation. And even though the Navaho retain hunting rights on unoccupied lands outside the boundaries of the reservation, that is an empty offering, for most of that land not occupied by white people now is desert and worthless.”

  Sage gazed over at Leonida, then went to her. She rose next to him, and his arm moved protectively around her waist, while Thunder Hawk moved to Leonida’s side, clinging, and Runner moved to Sage’s side, standing straight and tall in his shadow.

  “The white man treaty makers knew clearly the nature of the land allotted the Navaho,” Sage said, his voice drained of feeling. “And hear me well, my beloved people. All unauthorized people are to be excluded from the assigned reservation land and from the offerings of the white people. We are unauthorized people. We must be content now to stay in our canyon and live from this land that we have claimed as ours. The gifts from Kit Carson will soon multiply. We need not the white man’s treaty, or his so-called freedom. We have our own freedoms. Our own treaties amongst ourselves! We are one, united, as one heartbeat! Let us never hunger for more than that.”

  Then he paused again, his gaze shifting from Navaho to Navaho. “But if there be one among you who wishes to join those on the reservation, you are free to go,” he said guardedly. “Go now, or never.”

  There was no response.

  No one even seemed to bat an eye, much less step forward to tell Sage that they wished to leave the stronghold and his devoted command.

  Sage fought back the tears that were stinging his eyes, proud that he had finally achieved a loyal following. It touched his heart so much that he wanted to move among his people and give them all a generous hug.

  But he knew that he must refrain from showing his gratitude outwardly. He feared that it would diminish his nobility somehow. As time went on, he would show his gratitude in ways that would be more worthwhile.

  “Then so be it,” he said, lifting his chin proudly. “Now let us move on to our stronghold. We have cause to celebrate. We are a people united. We are the blessed ones.”

  Leonida clung to Sage’s side as they walked among his people toward the cluster of hogans a short distance away, where the smoke from the cook fires curled peacefully skyward.

  Chapter 36

  So shall we not part at the end of the day,

  Who have loved and lingered a little while,

  Join lips with a sigh, a smile . . .

  —ERNEST DOWSON

  Both wanting to put all connections of the past with the white pony soldiers behind them and feeling threatened by the spirits of his enemies, Sage and his warriors held a week-long curing ceremony to help them rediscover their true selves, threading throughout it the relationship and trust and respect among his Navaho clan. The ceremony was also meant to free Sage and his warriors of anxieties by “killing” off their enemy spirits, gaining strength from a juniper stick given added power by attached eagle and turkey feathers.

  It was now the last day of the ceremony, a time for its lighter side—a time of dancing, singing, laughter, and feasting.

  Leonida sat among the women, close to the large outdoor communal cook fire, where many delicacies were steaming, wafting delicious aromas into the night air. She was clapping her hands in time with the music while the young braves of the village performed a dance, their breechclouts flapping in the wind as they lifted and stamped their feet in the dust.

  Sage came and sat down beside Leonida. When she gazed over at him, she could see what she had hoped to see ever since she had met him: peace. Within his midnight-dark eyes she could see contentment, happiness, and tranquillity. The ceremony had lifted all of the troubles and burdens from his heart.

  She became overwhelmed with happiness herself, knowing that he was no longer carrying around with him all of the sadness and heartaches of his people. They had been cast away into the wind, hopefully gone forever.

  Sage put an arm around Leonida’s waist and drew her to lean close against his side. His throaty laughter drew her out of her deep thoughts. “What is amusing you?” she asked softly.

  “Thunder Hawk,” Sage said, motioning toward him with a nod. “See how he dances skillfully among
those who are much older? He is as agile as a bobcat. Just watch him. Does he not make you so proud?”

  “Yes, very,” Leonida said, reaching for Sage’s hand, gently grasping it. She glanced over at Runner, whose attention seemed to have been drawn from dancing to a pretty young maiden.

  Leonida nudged Sage with her elbow. “Look at Runner,” she said, giggling as the pretty girl grabbed her son’s hand and ran off with him, taking him to a group of other children who were more interested in playing games than dancing. “Who is she? She is a beautiful child.”

  “That is Gentle Fawn,” Sage said, his eyes also admiring the young thing, who wore a pale blue velveteen skirt and a matching velveteen blouse, with turquoise jewelry at both her throat and her wrists. Her raven-black hair was worn in one long braid down her back, and she had dotted smudges of bloodroot on her cheeks to make her look older.

  They watched Runner for a moment longer, then both rose to their feet when they heard Pure Blossom crying from inside their hogan. Arm in arm, they went inside. Sage lifted Pure Blossom into his arms, as Leonida sat down on a soft cushion of blankets beside the fire.

  “Soon she will not be feeding from your breast, but joining her family to eat meals,” Sage said, putting the babe into Leonida’s waiting arms. “Look at how fat her arms and legs are. And look at her face. With your milk she has blossomed into someone very pretty.”

  “Yes, she is pretty, and it won’t be long until she is singled out by a certain young man to join her in fun and games,” Leonida said, laughing softly as she put Pure Blossom’s lips to her breast. She watched her daughter feeding for a few moments, then gazed over at Sage with a soft smile. “Everything is so wonderful now, darling. I am so very happy.”

  “Life among the Navaho is not a simple thing,” Sage said, placing a hand on her cheek, this thumb caressing her beneath her chin. “But it is a challenge most welcomed by my wife? Yes?”

  Leonida leaned into his hand. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she murmured.

  Sage bent low over Leonida and cupped her free breast, then placed his lips over the nipple. He flicked his tongue around the nipple yet did not suckle from it, leaving that honor to their child. After Pure Blossom was finished nursing, having grown old enough to get her nourishment elsewhere, then he would claim his wife’s breasts as his own again, the source of much pleasure for him.

  “She’s asleep,” Leonida whispered, laughing softly. “That was the fastest dinner my daughter has ever drunk. For the moment I guess she prefers sleep over milk.”

  “That is good,” Sage said, his voice now husky with desire for his wife. “She can sleep. We can make love.”

  Sage lifted the child from Leonida’s arms and took her back to her crib, gently placing her on her cushion of blankets. He pulled another blanket over her, then turned to Leonida, his eyes filled with hunger for her.

  Leonida rose to her feet and went to Sage, melting into his arms. She gazed up at him. “What about the boys?” she whispered, her heart throbbing with need of her husband. “What if they decide to come home sooner than we expect them to?”

  Sage held her within his muscular arms, his head bent low, his breath hot on her lips. “Do you not hear the laughter and music?” he said, teasingly brushing a kiss across her lips. “As long as there are games and fun to share with others, both of our sons will not even think about home. Do not fret so, pretty wife. This time is ours alone. Let us take advantage of it.”

  Leonida’s stomach growled hungrily as the aroma of food drifted into the hogan through the door. “Handsome husband, are you not hungry?” she whispered, sucking a wild breath of rapture as he smoothed his hands between them and cupped both of her breasts, kneading them.

  “Let us not speak of food,” Sage said. “Let us not speak of anything. The moments are wasting away in talk.”

  Suddenly he grabbed her up into his arms and carried her toward their bedroom, lifting her high enough to kiss her. Leonida twined her arms around his neck, thrilling inside as though it was their first time together. All of her senses were yearning for what lay ahead—the promise of boundless pleasure.

  Stretching her out on her back on the soft cushion of their bed, Sage was already aware of the tingling heat pressing in on his loins, surges of warmth flooding through him at the promise of what he was going to share once again with his wife.

  Her pulse racing, Leonida stretched her arms above her head as Sage removed her blouse. Once it was tossed aside, she lifted her hips so that he could quickly remove her skirt. She shivered with pleasure from her head to her toes as he knelt down over her and began worshiping her flesh with his mouth and tongue. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the euphoria building within her as he found and pleasured her most sensual places. Yet she was glad when he rose from her, realizing that she was too near to going over the edge into ecstasy.

  Sage understood her bidding as she ever so gently shoved him away from her. He also was near to the exploding point, and he had not yet filled her with his throbbing hardness.

  Moving over her, Sage’s eyes burned with passion as he looked down at her. “Darling, I’ve missed you so these past several days,” she murmured. She framed his face with her hands and drew his lips to hers. “But it was worth it, to see you so at peace with yourself.”

  Sage’s mouth seared hers, her lips quivering and passionate against his. Her breasts strained against his fingers as he cupped them within the palms of his hands. Desire gripped her when he thrust himself into her softly yielding folds. She felt a tremor from deep within, and she moaned against his lips as he began his rhythmic strokes, her hips rising to meet his quickening thrusts.

  Leonida’s throat arched backward as he slipped his mouth down from her lips, across the vulnerable hollow of her throat, and then fastened gently on her breast, yet still not suckling from it. He kneaded them gently, feeling how warm and full they were. When a droplet of milk spilled from one of the nipples, Sage stilled his movements within her and gazed from the milk up into Leonida’s eyes.

  Aware of what had happened, Leonida shifted her gaze downward and swept the milk droplet onto the tip of her finger, then smiled up at Sage as she moved the finger towards his mouth.

  “Taste of my milk,” she murmured. When he hesitated, she placed the finger against his lower lip, the milk rolling onto it. “It’s all right, darling. Please? Tell me how it tastes?”

  Sage ran his tongue over his bottom lip and tasted the milk, then smiled down at her. “Sweet,” he said softly. “It tastes as sweet as my wife smells.”

  In a blaze of urgency he claimed her lips again with his mouth, emitting a thick, husky groan as Leonida lifted her legs and locked them around him, drawing him even more deeply into her. Wrapping her within his powerful arms, he pressed deeper and deeper. It was as though a great fire was burning within, agony and bliss as his passion spread through his whole body, now fluid with the burning, fierce heat of wild splendor.

  Leonida clung to him, overcome by the almost unbearable sweet pain of bliss, the excitement building within her like the deep rumblings of a volcano shortly before it erupts.

  When she reached that ultimate splendor, she drew in her breath sharply and gave a little cry. Sage’s head now rested on her bosom as he groaned in pleasure and his hips moved in a frenzy, thrusting over and over again into her.

  Too soon it was over. Breathing hard, Sage rolled away from Leonida. He turned on his side toward her and gently cupped her cheek. “You are even more beautiful now that you have carried two children in your womb,” he said. “And that seems impossible, for that day I first saw you I felt as though you were perhaps a vision of my imagination, yet never in my midnight dreams had I seen anyone as lovely or as sweet. My wife, you are what my midnight dreams are now made of. So you see? I never part from you even when I sleep.”

  “In my early teens I tried to envision the man of my dreams,” Leonida murmured. “I could never find in my mind’s eye exactly what I wanted in
a man. It always seemed a blur. Now I know why. I was meant to fall in love with an Indian, and as you know, in my culture that is something that is not accepted. To most, it is even forbidden. So I could not envision marrying a man that would be forbidden to me.”

  She locked her arms around his neck and drew him close. “My darling, you are far more than what I could have ever envisioned in my childhood fantasies,” she whispered. “You are not only handsome, but your heart is good toward everyone. Kit Carson knew that to be so. That is why, in the end, he tried to compensate for the wrong he did you, by giving your people the goats and sheep. He knew that they would soon multiply.”

  “The pathfinder was a great man,” Sage said, leaning away from Leonida. He twined his fingers through his dark hair and pushed it farther back from his brow. “It is unfortunate that somewhere along the way he listened more to the white leaders than to his heart.”

  Loud, excited squeals from the outer room drew Sage and Leonida from their bed. Dressing quickly and breathlessly, they had just fastened their last buttons when both of their sons burst into the room.

  “Chips is back,” Runner said, holding the tiny chipmunk out for Sage and Leonida to see. “See? She has returned to me after all these years. She remembers me.”

  “But one of her legs is gone,” Thunder Hawk said gloomily, pointing to where the missing limb should be. “A hawk, it is responsible.”

  Leonida sighed sadly when she took the chipmunk into her hands and examined it. “She has surely taken a beating while gone from you,” she murmured. She held the chipmunk to her bosom. “You poor thing.”

  “It is unfortunate that the chipmunk has been injured,” Sage said, picking up a son in each of his arms and carrying them to the outer room, with Leonida at his side petting the chipmunk on her brown crown of a head. “But you should feel blessed that she was able to return at all, if that was what she wanted to do.”