Brazen Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  “Then open the door and let him go, embecil! Are you crazy? He could kill me!” As a gleam of pleasure flickered in Hodges’ eyes, Diego warned again, “I would think twice about such a foolish act, sir.”

  “You mean just let him walk out? Zounds, Diego! That’s Gray Eagle himself, and I captured him! Now, you want me to free him!”

  “My life is not worth his capture. Release him immediately!” the shaky voice thundered.

  Gray Eagle pointed to the rifle in the guard’s shaking hands. His meaning was clear. “Lay down your gun!” Diego shrieked at him.

  The guard’s eyes shifted to his commanding officer’s scarlet face. He waited for him to speak. Hodges cursed as he panted, “Put down the gun, Clint.”

  The guard moved to the desk and laid his weapon there. Gray Eagle motioned to the rope hanging upon a peg on the side wall, then nodded at the soldier. Hodges fumed as he bound and gagged the youthful guard. He turned to Gray Eagle and sneered. “What now, Your Highness?”

  Gray Eagle sent forth the sound of a horse. “You want a horse, do you?” Hodges jested sarcastically.

  “Give him one quickly, Hodges! Don’t make him angry! That knife’s sharp and he might get nervous.”

  Hodges glared at the offensive man and stated daringly, “If you hadn’t demanded I free him, your hide wouldn’t be in danger. I’ll expect a big reward for saving it.”

  “Your punishment will be greater if you lose it,” Diego sneered.

  As Hodges moved toward the door, Gray Eagle shifted the knife to point directly into his jugular vein. One false move from Diego or any attempt to lunge at him would send the tip into his throat with no hope for survival. All three men recognized the warrior’s strategy. Hodges opened the door. Gray Eagle called out, “Wasichu.”

  Hodges turned and glared at him. “What now?” Gray Eagle’s gaze slipped from one man to another who was nearby, then nodded to have them moved back. Seething, Hodges called out, “You men there, get over to the cookhouse on the double.”

  They stared at him strangely, but quickly obeyed. Gray Eagle’s keen gaze walked over the front section of the fort, halting upon the guards in the towers on either front corner. His next tacit message was clear. Gritting his teeth, Hodges also ordered them to the cookhouse. A flicker entered the major’s eyes, hinting at a deliberation of wily betrayal. The warrior caught his eye, smiled knowingly, and shook his head in warning.

  “You filthy red devil! I’ll take you again someday!” he boasted.

  Hodges called for a horse to be brought to the gate and left there. When all appeared in readiness, Gray Eagle shoved Diego through the door and practically dragged the little man toward the horse. At his nod, Hodges himself was compelled to open the front gates. Catching the reins over two fingers, Gray Eagle backed out, leading the horse and hauling Diego. A safe distance off, Gray Eagle’s triumphant gaze taunted the raging Hodges. The dauntless warrior released Diego and handed him the knife as a souvenir.

  Gray Eagle nodded his head and smiled triumphantly. He mounted up and rode off. Diego stared at the weapon in his trembling hands, then at the back of the retreating warrior. Hodges rushed up. “Why didn’t you stab him?” he shouted in disbelief. “You could have killed the Eagle himself!”

  “For the same reason he did not slay Don Diego de Gardoqui himself! Savage he might be, but a man of honor and great pride. I greatly underestimated your intrepid legend,” Diego confessed.

  “Savages have no honor! You had the knife; why didn’t you use it?”

  “For a man so aware of his cunning and skills, you also underestimate him. If I had tried, my blood would be upon the ground, not his. You do not seem to realize something he obviously did; I’m no fool, Hodges!”

  Diego went back toward the fort. Hodges glanced toward the forest. There was no need to pursue Gray Eagle; once away from the fort he could disappear into the forest like just another tree! He whirled and stomped back toward the gates. Another day, my feathered foe….

  There was great rejoicing and astonishment when Gray Eagle rode into his camp the next afternoon. The Oglala gathered around him and sang his praises. With awe and joy, they listened to how he had beaten his enemies at their own game. Bright Arrow was held in the powerful arms of his father. Several times the boy hugged his neck. Gray Eagle complimented his courage and wits. The boy laughed and puffed up with pride.

  “Am I a warrior now, Father? Have I earned a feather?” he excitedly cried out.

  “You have earned a feather, Little One, but it takes many feathers and winters to become a warrior. You must be patient. There is much to learn and many skills to practice.”

  “Can we look for Mother now?” the child abruptly asked, bringing fresh pain to Gray Eagle’s eyes and heart. “We must find her and tell her of my first coup. The Bluecoats hurt her.”

  “You must tell me what happened by the river the day the Bluecoats captured you,” Gray Eagle gently encouraged, trying to sound calm.

  The boy related the same events the braves had reasoned out from the signs. “Where is Mother?” he asked when he finished.

  “I do not know, Bright Arrow,” Gray Eagle replied honestly. “Others have searched for her many moons. They could not find her.”

  Distressed, Bright Arrow shrieked, “She is hurt. We can find her,” he declared with childish confidence and blind hope.

  Gray Eagle looked at his father. “Has Moon Gazer returned yet, Father?”

  “Yes, my son. Nothing,” he sadly announced.

  When Bright Arrow insisted upon their own search, Gray Eagle smiled and stated, “The Great Spirit will watch over her until we can find her. Do not fear, Little One; she will return safely to us.”

  Four days later, Gray Eagle was repeating those same words to Bright Arrow. But Bright Arrow’s mind did not understand why his father could not find his mother and bring her home. There was nothing his father couldn’t do! Twice he cried for Shalee; another time, he beat his small fists upon Gray Eagle’s chest, demanding he find his mother. His violent outburst spent, his wide gaze met his father’s as he unexpectedly asked, “Is Mother dead? Did the Bluecoats kill her? Did she drown in the river?”

  The dreaded words hit Gray Eagle with staggering force. “I want my mother,” the child wailed, sensing something terrible in his father’s actions and mood.

  What could he say to this small boy who was hurting so deeply? It was wrong to stir false hopes in him. Surely she would have been found and returned to him by now if…his eyes became dewy at that thought. “I cannot bring your mother home, Bright Arrow. If the Bluecoats slew her, the Great Spirit is taking care of her now. He would not leave her alone. If she is not returned soon, we will know she has joined the Great Spirit.”

  “The Bluecoats are bad, Father. She fell into the water and I could not see her. Did the Great Spirit save her?”

  “I do not know, my son. But he spared my life so I could return to you.”

  Bright Arrow cried himself to sleep in his father’s arms. It was nearly dawn before slumber overtook the grieving warrior.

  When Bright Arrow realized his grandfather was absent for the second day, he beamed with suspense. “Has Grandfather gone to find Mother?” he asked, brown eyes glowing, ravaging his father’s heart.

  Gray Eagle looked down at him and smiled. “Perhaps he will find Shalee,” he replied, unable to tell his son Running Wolf and White Arrow were visiting the camp of the Sisseton, along with other representatives from each tribe. He should have gone with them, but he could not leave his son to bear his troubles alone. Too, his heart was not upon the continuing warfare with the whites. He and Bright Arrow needed this time together, for soon there would be no denying the reality of Shalee’s permanent loss. Gray Eagle felt he must send word to Chief Black Cloud about his alleged daughter’s tormenting disappearance. But surely he was also at the meeting in the Sisseton Camp. When the critical talks ended in two more days and his own father returned, he would visit the Blackf
oot camp with his dire news.

  As usual since his escape from the fort, Leah came to bring their food and to do their chores. Under the guise of sympathy and respectful obedience, Leah performed her daily tasks with warmth and concern. She seized every opportunity to take advantage of Bright Arrow’s needs: feeding him, caring for him, entertaining him, and even comforting him. So enwrapped was he in his own sufferings, Gray Eagle failed to absorb her ploy. But the conniving Leah knew exactly what she wanted and was doing.

  While Running Wolf and White Arrow were away, she knew she must use every wile and chance she possessed to enchant both Bright Arrow and his valiant father. Under normal circumstances, such a deed might be impossible or at least very time consuming. But with the agony and loneliness of Shalee’s death to plague them, both males were susceptible to her devious schemes. The child was responding quickly and openly to her resemblance to his mother. But Gray Eagle was resisting any pull upon his aching heart.

  Leah craftily avoided as much contact with the other Indians as possible, doing her chores during their rest period each day. If anyone had noticed how she was gradually likening herself to Princess Shalee, there was no outward show of suspicion. How she wished she did not have to return to Running Wolf’s tepee each night. But the stalwart warrior made it clear she wasn’t to sleep in his, no matter if she behaved like his slave. A matter of time was all it would require. But did she have that precious item? No, for Running Wolf and White Arrow would vanquish her and her dreams the moment they returned! Somehow, she must cautiously rush her victory. All she needed was one union with the virile warrior to ensnare him!

  Leah’s body quivered and her pulse raced when Gray Eagle’s somber gaze lingered upon her face for a few moments, the first time since that one morning in Running Wolf’s tepee. She smiled timidly, intentionally brushing her breast against his arm as she moved past him. Her fingers would lightly touch his as she handed him his food. She moved and swayed provocatively as she carried out her chores, chores performed with talent and perfection. Surely he was noticing her abilities and beauty? Surely his sexual needs for a woman to sate his fiery blood were attacking his senses? Men were so emotionally different from most females; they did not require romantic feelings in order to appease physical needs. With tempting efforts and appealing qualities, surely his seeds would be pleading to spill into her willing body within a few days?

  That very afternoon, Leah threw her cautions to the winds. It was time, since it was too quickly fading, to let him know just how receptive she was, how much she desired him. Her expressions increased in warmth and frequency. Her smoldering gazes became inviting and imploring, her smiles and moves enticing. Having observed him closely, Leah knew his routine by now. She knew exactly when and where he bathed in the still chilly water. With daring and planning, he could find her in a most compelling situation. She shuddered at the thought of the frigid water; then smiled wantonly, dreaming of how her body could warm itself afterwards. It was perfect; how could this emotionally weakened man resist the likeness of his wife, rising naked and inviting from the stream?

  Determined to carry out her shameless scheme the next day, Leah’s mood was cheerful and serene. Gray Eagle’s was not. Haunting memories plagued his mind and heart. His body yearned for that of his beloved Shalee. He wondered if this aching pain within his heart and loins would ever cease. He raged at the forces that had stolen his love. Too, guilt was harassing him: guilt over his inability to protect the woman he loved, guilt over the physical stirrings that the white captive encouraged in his loins. If only she did not reflect his love…if only his manhood did not cry out for the appeasements it had enjoyed nearly every moon…if his spirit was dead, why did his desires not die? Yet, he would master this repulsive lust. He could never take a white woman to his mats, no one except the white bird of his ravaged heart. When the time came and he could no longer resist the urgings of his traitorous flesh, he would sate himself upon some receptive Indian maiden. Perhaps one who had also lost her mate would be agreeable to his physical yearnings and his needs for a woman to care for him and his young son. Never had he endured such loneliness and agony. What could fill this devastating void in his life and heart? Why had she left him alone? Was death not a selfish betrayal? How could he bear to see another take the place of Shalee in his tepee and upon his mats? Could he? No, his aching heart cried out.

  Instantly his tortured mind argued, but what of the many needs of your son, what of the chores to be dealt with, and what about the throbbing needs of your manhood? It had been almost twelve moons since his last view of the bewitching woman of his heart. It seemed an endless span of torturous time. It was illogical to believe he would glance up one moment and find her standing before him, smiling with outstretched arms. But how he longed for such a blissful moment. No, there was no female alive who could take her place, not even one who reflected her face like a murky pool!

  At the first meal this curious day, Leah had placed her hand upon his cinnamon-colored chest and smiled sadly into his eyes as she whispered, in English, “My heart weighs heavy to see you suffer so greatly, Gray Eagle. Is there nothing I can do to ease the pain in your heart and life? How I long to remove those dulling lights from your eyes and the haunting shadow from over your head. Whatever your needs, I am here to serve you.” Leah had played heavily upon her expressions and tender voice. Gray Eagle wondered what she would think if she had known he could understand each word she uttered.

  But Gray Eagle was the one in error now. To her astonishment two days past, Leah had witnessed an incredible scene. Having concealed herself in the bushes near the stream to relieve herself, she overheard Gray Eagle and Talking Rock as they passed within hearing range of her alert ears. To her shock and resulting pleasure, Gray Eagle was teaching Talking Rock English! His fluent and easy command of her language astounded her. It played right into her wily game….

  As if still unaware of this talent, Leah called upon her wits to verbally entrap the man she desired. She would offer solace to Bright Arrow; she would speak highly and affectionately of Gray Eagle and the Oglala. She would supposedly speak to herself, words she wished him to hear and respond to with favor.

  It worked, but not in the way Leah hoped and plotted. It made Gray Eagle more and more aware of her growing desire for him, of his son’s rising dependency upon her, and of the stirrings her words and moods brought to his body. With the guilt and sexual yearnings came gradual resentment: resentment of her allure, resentment of the fact that she was here and not his Shalee, resentment that she dared to resemble his unique woman, and resentment that she was revealing her willingness to lie upon his mats! To remove her temptation, he and Bright Arrow joined Talking Rock and Little Flower for the late meal that night. By nightfall, he had artfully and defensively avoided her for the remainder of this trying day, the worst he had endured since Shalee’s loss. A deadly reality was forcing its way into his heart: Surely it was past time for hope.

  Very late, Gray Eagle went to the Ceremonial Lodge. He needed solace and communication with the Great Spirit. He sat cross-legged before a small campfire surrounded by large rocks. He removed a peyote button from a pouch and placed it in his mouth. Slowly he chewed the dried cactus button that produced hallucinations and euphoria, and what was believed to be contact with the Great Spirit. But that particular button had aged beyond its great power. The needed visions did not sate his desire for answers; instead, they produced images of Shalee, reflections of days past when they were together and happy. The impaired cactus button did not produce its normal aftereffects of tranquility and well-being; a terrible emptiness and anguish still burned within him. Fleeing the embittering dreams of Shalee in the Pezuta Tipi, Gray Eagle stumbled and swayed as he made his unsteady and slightly drugged return to his own tepee.

  Little Flower had pleaded for Bright Arrow to spend the night with their son, to enliven the sad-eyed child. Gray Eagle collapsed upon his mat, throwing his arm over his closed eyes. His mind floate
d upwards, seeking communication with Shalee at the Great Spirit’s side…. He spoke her name several times in a slurred tone.

  Leah had observed him in what she presumed to be an intoxicated state as the noble warrior staggered from the large tepee to his own. She knew Bright Arrow was not there. The unlaced flap swayed invitingly in the night breeze. Did she dare to seduce him in this irresistible state? Apprehension and suspense filled her. Time was so short. If she could lie with him just once….

  Summoning her courage, Leah checked to make certain no dark eyes were around to note her brazen trip to the tepee before her. She hurriedly crossed the shadowy distance and quickly entered the tepee, lacing the flap against any invasion of their privacy and her wanton intent. She forced her quivering body to move forward to halt beside the sleeping mat. Gray Eagle was mumbling incoherently, except for one antagonizing name. Her green eyes narrowed in envy of the woman who could so enchant this pinnacle of manhood and prowess. She bitterly vowed that he would soon forget she existed!

  Leah’s lustful gaze noted the pile of carelessly discarded clothing. She knelt and allowed her hungry eyes to feast upon the masculine beauty stretched out before them. Dangerous fires licked at her body; her womanly recess tightened and moistened. Her nipples surged erect with desire. She licked her suddenly dry lips, lips craving to taste of the sweet flesh before her.

  The time was ripe for plucking this virile creature. Leah removed the doeskin garments from her freshly scrubbed body. To forestall his awakening, she lightly trailed hands softened with healing balm over his chest and across his stomach, causing him to wiggle beneath the feathery touch. She eyed the smooth firmness of his bronze flesh. He was such a splendid male animal. Resolved to sway him, her hand reached for the sensitive shaft, which she considered a man’s weakest part. She traced the length of the shaft which intoxicated her senses. It spontaneously responded to her touch. Her hand slipped around it as it instinctively grew large and taut, sliding leisurely up and down the flawless surface to stimulate it, working carefully not to wake him.