He had not set out to become a living legend, and had done nothing intentionally to increase it. Often, that honor had been as a curse which had compelled him to think of and to put others before himself and his family. His prowess and victories had been gifts from the Great Spirit, gifts which had carried heavy responsibilities and personal sacrifices, gifts which had made him the “scourge” of the white man and their Indian foes. Many times, weary of the endless war and tormented by the death and destruction around him, he had sought peace and/or truce with both enemies, but their foes had failed to remain honorable and truthful, and he had been chosen to unite the Lakota Tribes and to call upon their allies to join them to fight “only one more battle” to push their foes back forever. But there was always another skirmish. Now, all of that could be placed behind him. He could live out his remaining days with pride and satisfaction, knowing he had done his best for the Great Spirit and his people. Yes, he was a little sad and depressed, for it was hard for a warrior to hang up his bow and war shield, and for a man to admit his age and infirmities, something he had never been more aware of than this morning.
He was tired and achy this morning, and almost was tempted not to ride to the war council. But if the Eagle failed to appear, the meeting could go badly, for so many depended on him. Sun Cloud and Shalee were right; it was time for the united tribes to select another leader, another source of magic and legend. He was ready to finish his life as a Big Belly whose days of glory were in the past, whose duty to his people consisted only of sharing his wisdom and love.
Shalee’s cheek rested near her husband’s heart and her arms were wrapped around his waist. How she dearly loved and needed this man who had changed her and her life drastically long ago. She enjoyed touching him and having him touch her. Sometimes he inflamed her senses so brightly that she feared she would be consumed by the roaring blaze; he had always had that effect on her. His face did display many lines and a toughness from the elements, but they had not stolen his manly appeal and exceptionally good looks. His body was not as lean or hard or muscular as it had been once, but it still enticed her to admire it and to crave it. His hair had not turned fully gray; it was half ebony. His dark eyes had not lost their sparkle and vitality. One hand wandered to his chest, to finger the scars there: the musket wound from his half brother, the Sun Dance markings, the Crow’s lance wound when Sun Cloud had been captured at age seven, and other tiny scars from so many battles. He had given so much of himself to his people and to allied tribes. It was time for him to rest and to be safe; he had earned those rights. She turned her head to place kisses on his chest, then lifted it to entreat his mouth to hers.
After which, his lips trailed over her features before he murmured, “You are as beautiful and desirable this day as on the one when I captured you. I have loved you and needed you each sun and moon since that day. I would defend you with my life and all my skills. I would never desert you or forget you in life…or in death, little one. You are as much a part of me as my body and my spirit. Our destinies were matched before we entered life, and they will remain locked even beyond this life. We are bound forever.”
Her eyes tenderly caressed him. “This I know to be true, my love. If I join the Great Spirit before you, do not be sad. Watch over our sons and grandchildren until you join us.” When he returned from his last war council, she would confess the troubles she was having, for she knew they revealed her days were short. She did not want to worry him or to spoil this final trek; she would wait awhile longer.
He lifted her chin and gazed into her green eyes. “Why do you speak of such things, little one? We will have many days together. I have chased the Bird of Death away from us many times.”
She smiled and she refuted gently, “The Great Spirit did not allow the Bird of Death to enter Gray Eagle’s tepee; but, one day, he must come for us. I am not afraid. Our lives have been full and long. It will be good to know lasting peace and safety. My thoughts have been on Wahea and Moon Eyes, and I miss Little Feet and her sons. When the war council ends and all is safe, Little Feet must bring Buffalo Boy and Spirit Sign to visit us. Soon, our sons and Tashina will marry, and their days will be busy with new families. Soon, there will be many lives to carry on the bloodline of Gray Eagle.”
Gray Eagle did not want to admit he had been thinking about Rebecca Kenny and her daughter and his grandsons this morning. “I have missed Wahea and Little Feet, too, little one. I am glad the Great Spirit allowed our son many happy years with his love before she was taken from his side. I must ask Bright Arrow to send word to Races-the-Buffalo to allow his wife and sons to visit us. I wish all my family could live together in my camp, as I wish for Wahea’s return.”
“I also pray for her return; I do not believe she is dead. I believe she lives in sadness for she cannot get back to us. Say nothing yet, my love, but Tashina will leave us soon to join her love, for she has lost her heart to the son of Windrider.”
Gray Eagle’s eyes filled with concern. “I wish that was not so, little one. When Sun Cloud took the war council message to the Cheyenne three moons past, they were holding the Dog Men ritual. The son of Windrider was chosen as one of the four to wear the sash until next summer. With war upon us, he will be lucky to survive the first battle. Now, I understand why Sun Cloud asked me to keep his news within me until Soul-of-Thunder could reveal it to his friends.”
At this perilous discovery, knowing what it would cost her beloved granddaughter, Shalee’s heart throbbed with new anguish, physical and emotional pain. Windrider’s band belonged to the Dog Men Society, which was the largest group in and among the Cheyenne tribes. Most males became members at fifteen, as would Soul-of-Thunder’s half brother Sky Warrior this season: a boy of mixed blood who had sky blue eyes, blond hair, dark skin, and Indian features. She knew what it meant for a member to be selected as a sash wearer.
The four Dog Men who had captured the most coups and displayed the most prowess in the past year were chosen to wear the “dog-ropes” for the next year. These four men were to defend the society and their people with their skills and lives. When selected, each was presented with a tanned sash which was ten feet long and six inches wide, with an exposed split at one end which went over the man’s head, to rest on his right shoulder and under his left arm. These trailing sashes had a small wooden stake on the far end which, during a fierce battle, was driven into the ground as a challenge to his foes, as a decoy to cover the retreat of his war party, and he was to die defending his band’s retreat rather than remove the peg and escape. Yet, his courage was usually honored and protected by the right of another warrior to allow his retreat by signaling him like a dog. If the “dog-rope” was stolen by a foe or lost during a battle, the sash wearer’s mother or widow was required to make a new one to replace it.
Gray Eagle said, “The sun moves higher; I must go, little one.”
“So much hatred and fighting, my love, so many dangers. How I long for the peace we knew long ago, but was too brief. Send our sons to me so I can give them my prayers and goodbyes.”
Sun Cloud arrived first. He was anxious to know if his words had distressed his parents, and was relieved to hear his mother’s response. “It is good my father is wise and brave, Mother.”
She caressed his cheek and smiled into his shiny eyes. “Soon, you will become chief, my son, and you will know the burdens your father carries. I pray your rank will not make the same demands upon you and your loved ones as it made upon your father and me. Be a wise and good chief, Sun Cloud, but do not forget yourself. Life is often brief and hard, and you must feast on its rewards each day. When the Bird of Death comes for you, you will leave Mother Earth full and happy, as I and your father will. You have been a blessing to us, Sun Cloud, and you must never regret our journey to the Great Spirit’s side. Find a true love, have children, and collect much joy in life. Do not allow the white man’s hostilities to harden your heart and to delay your dreams. You have brought much pride and love and joy to me.�
��
Sun Cloud warmed at her words and sunny smile. He grinned and teased, “I pray you will not be angry with me when I reveal the name of the woman who has stolen my eye and endangered my heart.”
Shalee laughed and retorted, “Does Singing Wind feel the same?”
Sun Cloud looked surprised, then inquired, “How did you know?”
More laughter came from his mother as she explained, “I have seen the signs for a long time, my son.”
“I did not know I was so careless,” he stated humorously.
“Only a mother would guess your secret,” she told him, to his relief. “I would say Sun Cloud has not known this secret very long?”
“You are right, Mother. I tried to resist her, but I could not.”
“Such is the way of love, my son. Does she know and agree?”
“She has not witnessed the truth and confessed it, even to herself. But she finds me irresistible,” he jested, then laughed heartily.
“What female would not find the reflection of Gray Eagle so?”
“We will speak of Singing Wind and the chiefs bonnet when we return. Rest, Mother, for you appear tired and pale. I will find you a slave to care for your chores so you can enjoy these coming days with my father at your side.”
“You are a good son, and I love you,” she said, then hugged him.
Within minutes after he left, Bright Arrow arrived. He seemed pensive, and she wondered why. She knew he had spent a long time with the shaman yesterday; but she could not question his motive, for it was not their way. “Take care, my first son, for danger and evil are around us,” she cautioned as she embraced him.
He looked deeply into her eyes, his troubled spirit exposed in his gaze. “When I return, there is much I must say to you and father,” he remarked mysteriously. “Tashina will help you until I buy you a slave.”
Shalee smiled and teased, “What mischievous spirit plays within my sons to make the same promise on the same sun? But you are right,” she confessed. “It is time for Shalee to have help from another. We will talk later. Go, and let the Great Spirit ride with you. He will tell you what you must do to find peace again. You were born of great love, Bright Arrow, and you must live with great love. Do not allow the demands of life to burden and embitter you. Seek the will of the Great Spirit, and He will fulfill your destiny and dreams.”
“It will be as you say, Mother, but it will be hard.”
“I know, my son; for there are hardships and sacrifices and perils in life, and only in death can we find true safety and peace. Take control of your life once more. If a part of it ends, you must seek a new beginning. But live your future suns so your past will not be burdened with pains and guilts. I love you, Bright Arrow.”
Bright Arrow hugged her tightly, almost desperately. “As I love you, my mother…and my friend.” He kissed her cheek and left.
Shalee walked outside and observed the group of twenty-six men who were preparing to leave: the council members, the four Sacred Bow carriers, the top four shirt wearers, and two warriors who would act as advance scouts. Her gaze slipped over her beloved husband, her two sons, her closest friends, and Powchutu. He had been with them for three weeks; some times, it seemed perfectly natural to see him there; other times, it still seemed strange and impossible.
Powchutu glanced her way and smiled, then came to speak with her. “When I return, Shalee, I will seek a new wife and tepee. Our last days must be lived with happiness. I have done as the Great Spirit commanded by returning here to make peace with those I wronged. Now I am content. It is good to spend my last days in my father’s lands.”
Shalee caught his hand and squeezed it affectionately. “How our lives have changed since that first day we met,” she stated with a soft laugh. “Shalee is very proud of you,” she remarked meaningfully.
Powchutu hugged her, and whispered in her ear, “Farewell, Alisha Williams. May the Great Spirit guide us all.”
She watched the men mount and ride away, and trembled at how many times the words “when I return” or “when you return” had been spoken today and during the past few days. She glanced at the sky to determine the time of day, and decided it was around ten o’clock.
Captain Clarence Smith was leaning against a boulder as he cursed the midday sun and sipped water from his canteen. He removed his hat and used his right sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead and upper lip. Sometimes he hated this area with a passion; other times, he wished he owned a large chunk of it. Everything had been prepared for their surprise attack during the night. Red Band had removed all signs of their arrival, preparations, and presence. The soldiers were concealed at strategic points on both sides of the canyon through which Gray Eagle and his band had to pass some time today. All they could do was watch and wait, and pray for success.
The fifty-six-year-old man beside him was nervous and fidgety. “What’s wrong, Clint? You sitting on an ant bed?”
“We all are, Capt’n,” the corporal replied. “I’m a damn fool to keep reenlisting and staying around here, after what I’ve seen over the years. The next time my duty’s up, I’m gone.”
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of the almighty Eagle,” Smith taunted.
“If you’d been in these parts as long as I have and seen what I’ve seen, you’d be shaking too,” Corporal Clint Richards scoffed in return.
“Tell me, Clint, just what have you seen and done to make such a coward of a damn good soldier,” Smith questioned in annoyance.
Clint settled himself cross-legged on the ground and sipped from his canteen. He stared Smith in the eye and said, “Enough to know Gray Eagle isn’t a legend for nothing, and enough to know we’re crazy to pull a stunt like this. We’ll all be dead by nightfall. If we had any brains at all, we would get the hell out of his territory or make a real truce with him and those Sioux.”
“You’ve got rocks in your head!” Smith nearly shouted at him.
“I was at Fort Henry in ‘82 when Major Hodges thought he could capture the Eagle, and darn near got us killed with his scheme. Oh, he lured Gray Eagle into his trap, but not for long. We had him trussed up like a chicken, standing in Hodges’ office, and he tricked his way free. I should know, I was the guard holding a gun on him.”
“Well, what happened?” Smith asked impatiently.
“Hodges was boasting to this Spaniard named Don Diego de Gardoqui, who was visiting us for his government. I won’t ever forget that day. Hodges argued like a wild man when Diego insisted Gray Eagle be cut loose ‘cause his wrists were bleeding all over the floor. Hodges kept spouting about Gray Eagle wasn’t just any man and couldn’t be trusted. Diego pulled rank on Hodges and he buckled. Afore we knew what hit us, Gray Eagle had snatched Hodges’ knife and had it at Diego’s throat and was demanding his freedom. Lordy, Hodges wanted to let Gray Eagle slit it for him, but he knew what trouble he would be in if he did. He let the Eagle fly away as pretty as you please.”
“How the hell did you survive?”
“Gray Eagle made Hodges tie me up, then he walked right out of there, without killing a single man, except the one who betrayed him and got him caught.” Course, his horse was the one who did Jed Hawkins in for him, but he ordered it and that steed obeyed, like everything else does as he says. But Hodges was real riled and set another trap for Gray Eagle. He had soldiers attack Running Wolf’s camp; that was when the old man was still alive and chief. Major Sturgis over at Fort Meade tried to reason with Hodges and Collins, but they wouldn’t listen. I must have some angel watching over me ‘cause I was sick with dysentery and couldn’t ride out with them. The Eagle fooled ‘em and wiped ‘em out. It wasn’t long before Hodges vanished one day. Still don’t know what happened to him, but I can guess.”
This time, Smith did not interrupt when Clint caught a breather and sipped more water. “Somehow Sturgis wrangled a treaty with Gray Eagle and things settled down until he left in ‘95, then hell broke loose again, because the new commander in this area wouldn’t h
onor Sturgis’ treaty. He stirred things up so much that he got Fort Dakota nearly destroyed that following year. That time, it was Lieutenant Timothy Moore and the Eagle’s son in the middle. I was at Fort Meade then, but we heard what happened from a few survivors.”
Clint glanced at Smith again and was surprised to find the man listening intently, for Smith rarely held silent very long. “This tiny white girl who belonged to Bright Arrow arrived at the fort, enchanted Moore, then helped Bright Arrow escape. From what we were told, Moore was completely fooled by her and was planning to marry her. She must have been real clever and pretty to pull off a coup like that. While Moore was off trying to wipe out the chiefs and leaders at a war council—sound familiar, sir?” he hinted pointedly— “Gray Eagle attacked Fort Dakota and Moore’s troops. I don’t need to tell you, only a few men survived and the fort was plundered.”
“You ain’t got your facts straight, Clint,” Smith debated. “Timothy Moore isn’t dead. He’s on his way here with General Cooper.”
“Yep, as a major. After he lost his fort and men, he was demoted to a private. He’s been working his way back up the ranks for years. I bet his desire for revenge is as red as his hair.”
“You know Moore?”
“Yep. He was at Fort Meade for a while, then back at Fort Dakota after she was rebuilt. He was one of the men called back east in ‘12 to help fight those English devils. I bet he’s been chomping at the bit to get back here and finish this matter with Gray Eagle and his son. Seems like some men don’t learn from their mistakes.”
Bittersweet Ecstasy Page 18