Savage Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  The use of her name caught her attention and she froze for a moment, staring at him. She ceased her struggle and verbal assault on him. Her frenzied fury spent, she faced her antagonist in quaking terror and dreaded alarm. The comprehension of her wild attack on him petrified her. She immediately realized her grave mistake. Her chin began to quiver with suppressed tears and growing fear. Her trembling fingers covered her lips. She shook her head in disbelief and cried out in dismay, “My God! What am I doing?

  What is happening to me? Now you have me acting like a savage, too. I’m sorry… Wanmd…” She left the sentence unfinished. It was too late for apologies and he wouldn’t even understand her anyway.

  She was panting in short, labored rasps. She backed away from him and ran inside his teepee. She flung herself down upon the palet and wept as if her heart were being torn apart. He stared aţ

  the quivering flap and listened to her heart-rending sobs for a time, knowing what must be done and somehow dreading it. Ben lived just long enough to hear and witness her tirade. He died praying her death would be swift and merciful. Surely, the brave would kil her now… or worse…

  Eventualy, her weeping subsided and she lay drained of al emotions and tears. She lay in the semidarkness imagining al sorts emotions and tears. She lay in the semidarkness imagining al sorts of gruesome tortures and punishments. What now? she asked herself. Anguish filed her heart and mind, knowing she would be the next and the last to die.

  Gray Eagle did not return for a long time. Near exhaustion, she drifted into a troubled, restless sleep. Her dreams tumbled together in a colorful kaleidoscope of images and scenes, each one coalescing with the other.

  She watched Gray Eagle smirking at Ben. She saw the yelow arrow embedded in Ben’s throat. She watched as he struggled vainly to tel her something urgent. His lips moved, but she could not hear his words. She saw her mother and father riding rapidly in a phaeton into total darkness and oblivion. She cried out for them to stop and wait for her, but her only answer was the toling of the death bels from the cathedral tower.

  She tried to flee from the sight of dead bodies covered in dirt and blood. She was surrounded by them. They were lying al over the ground, floating face down in the river, hanging from trees and piled up like stacks of wood for burning. She saw women stripped and dragged to a teepee drenched in fiery red blood. She covered her ears with the palms of her hands to shut out their screams and pleas.

  Her nostrils were filed with the smel of smoke. Her eyes burned and teared from its irritating sting. The smoke obscured her vision and breathing became difficult. The heat of the flames grew hotter and closer. There was no escape. Suddenly, she was imprisoned in a deep, dark pit as cold as death itself. She realized she was trapped alive in a grave.

  Her lungs ached and burned in her struggles to breathe. Her heart pounded wildly as she thrashed about on the palet in a cold heart pounded wildly as she thrashed about on the palet in a cold sweat. Her terror mounted as she realized someone was holding the grave closed, preventing her escape. Unspeakable fear gripped her. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sounds would come forth. Strong hands held her down as dirt was shoveled into the grave and her face. Soon, it would be too late for succor.

  “No!” she cried out, “please don’t bury me alive! I can’t breathe! No! Father help me… help me…”

  She fought the hands that prevented her escape. She pushed at the imaginary dirt in her face. She gasped for air, and coughed from the omnipresent smoke.

  The image of Gray Eagle formed before her. He stood straight and tal before her, emitting power and strength. From somewhere deep inside her mind, she knew he was her only salvation. She held her open arms out to him and pleaded, “Wanmdi Hota, save me …

  help me…”

  His hands closed on her shoulders in a grip of iron as he shook her and caled out to her. The voice from far away reached her.

  “Lese! Ku-wa! Lese…”

  The bonds of the nightmare gave way and released her. As she came fuly awake, she was looking up into the face of Gray Eagle leaning over her, shaking her and caling her name. “Lese, Ku-wa!”

  And come she did! She threw herself into his arms. She placed her arms around his neck and clung to him tightly, crying in relief. For a minute or two, he held her in his embrace and let her draw comfort from his touch and gentleness.

  Then he pushed her down onto the skins and took her brutaly and forcefuly with no tenderness or preliminaries as punishment for her earlier display and outburst.

  her earlier display and outburst.

  Shocked back to cold reality, she struggled fiercely against his attack. She whispered words of hatred and defiance to him. When he finished, he roled off her and lay beside her. She turned her back to him and lay facing the teepee on her side. She vowed softly, “One day, I’l make you pay for your cruelty. I’l escape and you’l never be able to hurt me again. I hate you and al your people…”

  He listened to her words, knowing he must keep a watchful eye on her for a long time to come. Earlier, he had remained in his father’s teepee until his anger had lessened. He was furious with himself most of al. He had alowed his hate and anger to talk to the ista ska today, and he had almost told the girl his closely guarded secret. His actions this day and just now were unlike him. Usualy, he held his anger and emotions in rigid control. He was greatly alarmed and concerned at the feelings the girl gave him and for his reactions to her and the situation she created. He was disturbed by the position she had placed him in today. She had forced him to strike out at her to save his face and honor before his people. He was even more alarmed to find it bothered him to do it. Who was she to come into his life and wreak such havoc with his emotions and judgments? Who was she to force him to show his feelings openly and be unable to control them completely? He knew his answer was that she was the first and only woman to cause such stirrings and desires in his heart and body. Why did she have to be white and his enemy? Why did it have to be that girl he wanted above al others? Why had he been unable to forget her? Why did she steal into his mind without warning? She is only a winyan, Wanmdi Hota, and a white one at that! But, never had he known one like her.

  one like her.

  She was like the white buffalo, very rare and special. He was lucky to have been the warrior to find and capture her. He was relieved he had returned to camp in time to stop Ben’s tongue from revealing his secret to her. He was sorry the death had taken place in front of her, causing her to resist and hate him even more. He listened to her soft weeping and wished he had not been so harsh with his taking of her just now. She is stil new to the ways between a man and a woman, he reminded himself. I have hurt her both times I have taken her. Next time, I wil show her it does not have to be so. There is no need for pain and fear…

  He recaled her words of hatred and her threats to him. He recaled her show of defiance and disrespect to him before his people. She had tried to dishonor him. She had dared to yel at him, to fight with him, to strike him! Her! A mere winyan and wayakayuha! He was torn between anger and astonishment that she had dared to hit him, Wanmdi Hota, son of the chief! She has much pride and daring, he thought, amused. It is sad to crush such spirit, but it must be done to also crush her rebelion.

  Did she not know he could have easily kiled her for her actions and words? Did she not know his people would think he should do just that? Could she not guess what it had cost him to spare her life after her tirade? He had forced her to suffer shame and hurt just now as he had done this afternoon. She should be grateful I did not slay her on the spot where she stood! he thought. Next time, I must punish her more severely and openly or be subjected to ridicule. A man who alows a winyan to rule his ways is looked on in shame for weakness. To alow a wayakayuha to make a man show. weakness is unforgivable!

  He knew then he must cause her to fear him so deeply that she He knew then he must cause her to fear him so deeply that she would not dare to defy him or strike him ever again, at least n
ot before his people. She must, learn to obey without hesitation or rebelion. But the memory of her crying out to him in her dreams haunted him. He dismissed it with the thought that she had done so only because she realized that only he had the power to help or hurt her. Suddenly, he recaled that she had used his name. She must have heard others cal him Wanmdi Hota and assumed it to be his name, he reasoned.

  He also recaled her words of apology, but they had come too late. The damage had been done. Even though he understood her reasons and feelings for her actions, he could not overlook them or withhold his punishment. He was reminded anew of the loneliness and problems which confronted a leader. Many times, he was caled upon to think of his people or laws above himself or his wishes.

  He looked over at the slow rise and fal of Alisha’s chest as she slept beside him. It had taken her a long time to calm down and go to sleep. He longed to reach out and comfort her before she slept, but knew it would be unwise to do so. To do so would only erase the lesson he had just tried to teach her. He was perplexed at how deeply her pain and suffering touched him. At al costs, he must keep her at arm’s length. He must not let her get too close to him, even though he wished it could be so. His life was committed to his people and way of life.

  Softly, he whispered, “Much as I wish it, Cinstinna, it cannot be. Your place in my teepee must always remain as wayakayuha. Even with al my power, I cannot change the fact we are enemies…”

  Alisha found herself alone the next morning when she awoke. Alisha found herself alone the next morning when she awoke. She lay there for a time thinking about yesterday and last night. Anger filed her and she vowed, “Damn him and his cruelty! He’l pay for what he did. Somehow, some way, I’l make him pay for doing that to me.” Haunting thoughts and memories filed her mind from long ago and far away. Once more, she was hiding behind the drapes in their drawing room listening to the idle gossip of her mother’s friends. Now I know why they said it was painful and disgusting. Those who said it was different lied. There is no passion and pleasure involved, just lust and taking for him and pain and endurance for me. Liars! Al of them liars…

  Gray Eagle entered the teepee and caled for her to come with him. Having no choice and afraid to defy him again so soon, she arose and folowed him. They walked through the forest to the same stream he had brought her to before. He seized her arms and, despite her protests and struggles, stripped her and tossed her into the water as if she were a smal pebble.

  He sat down cross-legged on the grassy bank and watched her intently. She immediately tried to shield Sherself from his burning gaze, but quickly realized the futility of such actions. Angrily, she wiped the water from her eyes and coughed to clear it from her throat and lungs. She glared at him with hate and anger dancing in those emerald eyes, then turned her back to him to bathe. Without a sound or warning, he was beside her in the water. She gasped and once more tried to shield her bosom from his view. He grinned in amusement as he ignored her feeble efforts to hide behind her smal, delicate hands. He handed her a white cake of some kind of soap. She looked at the strange bar of soap for she had never seen or smeled anything like it before. It was very hard to lather in the cool water and had a gritty texture. She shrugged to lather in the cool water and had a gritty texture. She shrugged and thought, at least, I wil feel and smel cleaner. As she finaly managed to get the soap to lather, she forgot his presence and watchful eyes and scrubbed her body until it was pink al over. She washed her hair twice, grateful to have the dirt and oil gone and to hear it squeak in answer. As she dipped over and over in the water to rinse her body and hair, Gray Eagle was reminded of the playful antics of the musquash.

  He suppressed a secret grin as he listened to the low rumbling of his hungry stomach. He caled to her, “Ku-wa! Ya!”

  She did not look his way as he stepped out of the water to dress. He smiled at her turned back and caled to her to come again. Slowly, she turned toward him, hoping he was finished dressing. She came to the edge of the stream and handed him the soap. Seeing the futility of trying to shield herself, she stepped onto the bank as gracefuly as possible under the humiliating circumstances.

  When he refused to give her back her clothes, she wrapped the blanket she had dried off on around her. He led the way back to the vilage and to his teepee. She had not realized it was the custom of his people for the men and women to bathe separately. Gray Eagle did not want the other women taunting or showing unnecessary coldness to Alisha during this adjustment period, so he overlooked the custom and took her with him. Also, he could not trust Chela’s hate and anger to be stayed when they were alone. He had to admit to himself that he enjoyed watching her and being with her. So far, he had not received any teasing for this action. Seeing her great beauty, the other warriors guessed his motives and knew they would have done the same thing with her as their captive. Alisha was completely unaware of the many ways and times Alisha was completely unaware of the many ways and times he had gone against his ways and customs for her. His mind and heart battled many times with what he wanted to do and what he felt he had to do. He did not like leaving himself open to ridicule by the other warriors, if not from his tribe, then other tribes who saw and learned of his actions. His leniency toward Alisha was pointed out to him many times by the strange looks and whispers from the women in his camp and by the open accusations from Chela. Only his position and respect had silenced the words of his warriors, but not their thoughts. How much longer could he alow this leniency toward her and in himself to continue? She would have to accept his power over her and her existence and cease this rebelion or he would be forced to become harsh and unyielding toward her. If things came to that, she would never be his other than physicaly. Somehow, he found himself wanting more from her than a place on his mat at night or her duties as his slave. She must bow to his authority soon and accept a mild truce between them, or accept his power and her hate. If he could not have her wilingly, then he would take her forcefuly and her hate with it. He resolved, I am a man and a warrior. I wil not be brought low by a winyan, even one such as she. I wish she would realize how much easier it would be for both of us if she accepted her new life here. Surely, what I have to offer her is better than the red teepee, or death. I must teach her this now.

  She was overjoyed and relieved to find a clean change of clothes on the mat. Without waiting for his approval or suggestion, she quickly put on the cehnake and winyan heyake. She picked up a pair of smal moccasins and slid them on her tiny feet. She sat down on the mat and tried to finger comb the tangles from her wet hair.

  hair.

  Gray Eagle dropped the other clothes by the wood sling for her to wash later. The old woman caled out to enter with food. He felt Alisha was not quite ready to take over his cooking yet and let the old woman continue this chore for a time. She entered, put the food by the campfire, and left.

  He sat down and caled for her to come. He patted the earth beside him saying, “Yanka, Lese!” She watched him warily as she sat down and waited for him to finish eating first. He handed her the food that was left. “Wota!” he commanded firmly.

  She did not know if the word meant food or eat, but repeated it back to him, knowing it should be learned and remembered. His language would be very difficult to learn and speak if it should ever become necessary or desirable. She couldn’t speak with him or anyone else yet, for al she knew were commands and single words. Would he mind or care if she tried to learn his tongue? Did he want her to know only what was needed for her chores? Since they were so obviously enemies, he surely wouldn’t want to carry on a conversation with her. He had made no attempts to teach her any words other than his commands. She would see just what his intentions were.

  She looked up at him and softly caled his name to get his attention. He turned curious eyes to her, bewildered by her tone, and desire to speak with him. At his look of intense scrutiny, hesitation filed her eyes and she lowered her gaze and became silent.

  “Sha?”

  Summoning up
her courage, she pointed to several objects while saying the Oglala word for them with a questioning note in her voice after each. Each time, he replied “sha” when she said the voice after each. Each time, he replied “sha” when she said the word correctly.

  She made the sign for being bound by the wrists and asked,

  “Kaskapi?”

  He shook his head and replied, “Sha.”

  She tried al the words she had learned. She came to woman. She pointed to herself and asked, “Lese winyan?”

  Again, “Sha.”

  She stared at him with great confusion in her eyes and asked,

  “Witkowin? Lese witkowin?” She lifted her shoulders in question. His eyes darkened and narrowed as he tried to decide if she was asking if he thought this or if she were asking what the word meant. No matter, he grabbed her roughly by the forearms and shook her. Icily, he said, “Hiya! Lese hiya witkowin!”

  She was shocked by his tone and reaction to her question. “I do not know what ‘witkowin’ means,” she offered in fear and explanation. “The old woman cals me this and I do not understand.”

  She watched him as he brought his anger under control and put his cold, expressionless mask back into place. Firmly, he stated,

  “Lese hiya witkowin. Lese mitawa.”

  She stared into those unreadable eyes in bewilderment and reasoned, “I am not what? If the word is bad and makes you angry, then why did the old woman say it to me so many times?”

  Comprehension settled in. “Of course, she knew I would say it in front of you and you would become furious and probably punish me. What a mean thing to do. She only wanted you to hurt me more. I wil be more careful of her and her motives from now on.”

  She was very quiet and thoughtful for a few minutes. She looked over at him and asked, “What could the word mean to looked over at him and asked, “What could the word mean to make you so angry? What did she cal me?” She puzzled out loud,