He smiled to himself, pleased by his secret knowledge of the white man’s tongue, delighted that his cunning father had taught him to learn this useful weapon. His father…Bright Arrow knew he could never successfully compete with the living legend which ruled the Oglala people and his family’s tepee. There would never be another warrior such as the proud, invincible, powerful Gray Eagle of the awesome Oglala Sioux, he proudly concluded. He reasoned he would be satisfied only to match his father’s skills, reputation, and power. No man could be more fortunate than to be born the son of Wanmdi Hota of the fierce, dauntless, indomitable Sioux.
He chuckled softly as he deliberated upon his good fortune, for it was also his good luck to be born the son of Princess Shalee: wife to the greatest warrior to ever ride the open plains and daughter to the chief of the famed Blackfoot tribe, a member of their great nation which was comprised of seven Sioux tribes. Bright Arrow wondered if Rebecca was anything like the white girl Jenny whom his grandfather Chief Mahpiya Sapa had enslaved and loved, who had given birth to his mother Shalee thirty-seven winters ago. This strange girl with her amber eyes looked more like an Indian than his mother did with her entrancing eyes the color of newborn leaves in the time when Mother Earth renewed her face. How could he so despise the blood of the whites when a small amount of it ran within the beautiful body of his beloved mother? Shalee was the wife of Chief Gray Eagle; she was the half-blooded daughter of Chief Black Cloud; she was loved and respected by all seven Sioux tribes. Love and pride suffused his stalwart frame.
Yet, Bright Arrow knew, times had changed since his grandfather had taken a white girl to his heart. In moons long past, the first white men had come in peace, fleeing the evil of their own kind, living in harmony with the Indians and Mother Earth.
But the moon had come when more white-eyes arrived, white-eyes with evil hearts and greedy hands. Then, the aggressive Bluecoats had joined them, determined to rule and to steal all Indian lands. Many winters had passed as the hostilities and hatred steadily increased. An unending war had resulted. Neither the Indian nor the white man would yield defeat or withdraw. The war would continue until one side lost. Bright Arrow could not imagine either side conceding. The day had come when only a few whites could be regarded as friends. He hastily dismissed the tuggings of foolish guilt which briefly entered his mind. What did it matter that women and children were not white warriors?
He was proud he was not a white-eyes and was fortunate to live under the shadow of Gray Eagle and Shalee. Their guidance and influence had been vital to his happiness and growth. As was the Indian custom, until he married or became chief, he would remain in the tepee of his father. Still, he was growing restless for independence and power. He hungered to make his own decisions and to live as he chose. But without a wife, he could not seek his own tepee. And as long as he lived with his parents, he fell under their rule and wishes. He wondered if this was the reason why so many braves and warriors married so young. Even so, to take any female as wife just to gain his own tepee was repulsive. When he took a mate, it would be a unique female who could share his heart.
As to the white girl Rebecca, he fumed inwardly at the reality that he could keep her only if his parents, especially his father, agreed. To be a man and a noted warrior and to be forced to let another rule his life and manhood tore at his pride and contentment.
Bright Arrow rolled off of the diminutive body of Rebecca, annoyed by the uncontrollable stirrings of passion and tenderness which her smell and touch inspired within his traitorous body. What was wrong with him? He was a renowned warrior with countless coups! He was the only son of Gray Eagle and Shalee! This white girl was his avowed enemy! How dare she spark such forbidden emotions and unspeakable thoughts within him! If she were awake, he would punish her for such an offense! He raged against these novel feelings of guilt, self-betrayal, and carnal weakness. Was he so charmed by her that he could not resist the magic of a girl who was not even attempting to enchant him! To suddenly realize that he could not fault her with his emotional defeat only infuriated him more. What was this powerful attraction to a stranger, an enemy?
Defeating the white man who had rashly attacked him, Standing Bear came forward to restate his claim upon the unconscious girl. “The girl is mine, Bright Arrow! I will take her now! Does the noble son of the Sioux chief lower himself to take a skinny white girl to his body and Gray Eagle’s tepee? Will your father permit a despised white eyes to lay upon your mat and enjoy your touch? Surely you would not exalt an enemy to such a high place?” he taunted the formidable young brave, determined to have her himself.
The Sioux warrior frowned at the nefarious Cheyenne brave. This was not the first time Standing Bear had mocked or belittled him before others. Until today, Bright Arrow had found some crafty way to discourage confrontation between them. Now Standing Bear was boldly and willfully using this innocent girl to entrap him. Could he allow this childish game to continue? Could he permit Standing Bear to humiliate him, to make him appear a coward? Already several of the other warriors questioned his tolerance for this spiteful brave. Still, he would unselfishly seek another truce by reasoning with him. A great warrior did not lightly take the life of another noted warrior.
“I have spoken, Standing Bear. Do not continue to defy me. I was chosen the band leader for this raid. It is my right to say who takes the white girl. I say she is mine. Twice I have spared her life. I claimed her first. Do you protest the laws of our society? Did you not also lift your hand to vote me leader? Did you not willingly agree to follow me and my commands?” he rebuked the seething Cheyenne brave.
The flinty look in Bright Arrow’s eyes and the unrelenting tone of his voice should have enlightened Standing Bear to his determination to have this unique white girl, but Standing Bear foolishly and recklessly chose to ignore them. This was one time when he would not and could not cower before Bright Arrow, not with the others aware of the conflict brewing between them. Once and for all, he must assert himself; he must best Bright Arrow in battle, or forever ride in the dazzling shadow of the famed son of Wanmdi Hota! Being one of three warriors in line for the rank of next chief of the Cheyenne, he would gain many coups if he conquered the illustrious Bright Arrow. A satanic gleam filled his jet-black eyes as he envisioned the defeat of the supposedly invincible Gray Eagle himself, too weakened by grief at the death of his only son to adequately defend himself. Once he removed both warriors, he could not only capture this lovely white girl but could also ensnare the breathtaking Princess Shalee. Even at thirty-odd winters, she was still the most beautiful, desirable woman alive! In addition, he could forcibly overtake the Oglala tribe and join them to his own. With two deadly blows, he could rule this entire region…
Bright Arrow astutely observed the ominous light which glowed in Standing Bear’s eyes and the cruel sneer which curled his lips. Without a doubt, Standing Bear was up to some mischief. Standing Bear’s next words alerted him to his treachery. Astonished, he listened carefully.
“No, Bright Arrow; she is mine. I lay claim to her here and now. The raid is past; you are no longer band leader. You speak from the shadow of a mighty eagle, but I speak for myself. If you take her, it will be after I am dead. A powerful bear does not listen to the childish whisperings of a slender arrow who quivers before a worthy target. I stand brave and tall as my brother the forest warrior. It is past time for me to pluck the offending arrow from my side, one which clouds my eyes and steals my glory. If you desire this white girl upon your sleeping mat, then you may take her after me. After I have taken my fill of her, she is yours,” he voiced his brazen ultimatum, one he knew Bright Arrow must refuse.
Bright Arrow considered his situation. Was there more to this infuriating challenge than met the eye? Bright Arrow did not wish to slay his Cheyenne brother, but neither did he wish to appear a coward nor to give up the white girl. Standing Bear’s treatment of captive women was no secret; this girl would never survive his brutal assaults. Somehow Bright Arrow could not
bring himself to permit Rebecca’s enslavement to another, especially one such as Standing Bear.
What would his father do in this same predicament? The truth was that his father rarely found himself in such a precarious position. His name alone could drive fear into the hearts of his boldest enemies! How he wished Standing Bear had not openly dared him to protect his name and honor; now, more was at stake than the mere possession of this defenseless white girl…All that he was or ever could be was controlled by his imminent decision.
He inwardly raged at being forced to defend himself simply because he was the son of Gray Eagle, to prove himself worthy to be the next leader of the mighty Oglala, to prove he was even half the man and warrior his father was! Why couldn’t the others accept him for himself? Why was he continually called upon to prove the indomitable blood of Wanmdi Hota also flowed within his veins? Why did younger braves rashly believe that to defeat him would in some magical way also defeat the unconquerable, fearless Gray Eagle? Didn’t each man stand upon his own merits and skills?
Being cornered, Bright Arrow saw no way to handle this matter other than to fight for his honor and for the possession of the white girl. He reluctantly agreed, “If it must be this way, Standing Bear, I accept your challenge with great sadness. I do not wish to battle my Cheyenne brother, but you leave me no other choice. May the Great Spirit protect the life of the brave He chooses. Come, the others must view this contest between us.”
They left the still unconscious Rebecca where she was and walked into the clearing, now cluttered with discarded plunder and lifeless bodies. Bright Arrow signalled for the others to gather around them. He related Standing Bear’s challenge and his reluctant acceptance to the astonished group of braves. While the others cleared an area for their battle, Bright Arrow and Standing Bear each conversed with his closest friends, expressing their motives and feelings.
Lucy and Kate were bound securely to a lofty birch tree at the far side of the clearing, each female knowing their existence had been altered in only two ways: only the race of their villainous masters and the currency for their carnal services had changed. Their payments would now consist of only survival and sustenance. Yet, necessary whoredom among their own people could not compare with enforced harlotry at the hands of merciless enemies in the Cheyenne camp.
Presently, the others formed an unbroken circle around the two braves to witness this significant contest of iron wills which was long overdue. Red Cloud and Deer-Stalker stepped into the human enclosure to perform their duties. In turn, Bright Arrow and Standing Bear each had his adapted hand secured behind his waist with a strip of leather. Each man’s sheathed knife was placed on the opposite side to his habitually used hand. This handicap was intended to force each warrior to use his cunning, agility, and strength to get himself free to attack his opposer while defending himself and hindering his rival.
Standing Bear and Red Cloud exchanged sly grins as they mutually recalled how many times Standing Bear had practiced this dangerous impediment for just such an occasion. But the self-assured, ambidextrous Bright Arrow wasn’t the least concerned with this seeming detriment. In preparation of an unforeseen injury to his left hand, he had wisely and diligently worked on the strength and quickness of the right one.
The circle shifted to accept the entrance of the other two warriors as they left their friends’ sides to witness this ominous battle. Bright Arrow and Standing Bear faced each other, awaiting the signal to begin their duel. The moment Deer-Stalker shouted “Ya!” Standing Bear fell backwards and delivered a stunning kick into Bright Arrow’s groin. The forceful and painful blow sent him stumbling backwards to hit the hard ground with a heavy thud and a loud exhalation of air.
Standing Bear quickly came to his knees and snatched his knife from its sheath. As he struggled awkwardly to sever his bond without cutting himself, Bright Arrow quelled his agony and nausea to hurriedly defend himself. With lightning speed and hopes of stalling his foe’s progress, he came to his knees and hurled his head into Standing Bear’s chest, toppling him just as a small nick was made in his restraining thong.
Shoving with powerful shoulders, kicking with nimble feet, and hitting with hard fists ensued. Dust and stones flew as the two determined warriors battled for victory. During the fierce scuffle, Bright Arrow was gradually sapping his energy and chafing his wrist as he attempted to forcefully overcome or to weaken his confining thong.
Standing Bear seized his enemy’s knife and tossed it aside. As Bright Arrow whirled to retrieve it, Standing Bear claimed his own weapon from the ground and nearly freed his right hand. Yet, Bright Arrow’s quick reflexes promptly restored his own weapon to his grip. Standing Bear jerked on his hand to complete its freedom. He grinned in sardonic pleasure as he rushed at Bright Arrow, slashing upwards in his desperate attempt to open the warrior’s lithe frame from navel to throat. Bright Arrow artfully stepped aside to avoid that shiny blade and to kick his deadly challenger in the buttocks, sending him face down to the dry earth.
Instantly Bright Arrow’s right hand sought to sever his rawhide tie. But he only managed to sunder it halfway as his malevolent adversary charged him. Standing Bear halted his attack and assumed a crouched position as he fearfully viewed the blade held so confidently and skillfully in his rival’s supposedly weaker hand. The steadiness and easy control of the perilous knife told the vexed combatant he had misjudged his competitor’s skills and cunning. He cautioned himself to patience; after all, Bright Arrow’s better hand was still securely bound behind him.
A satanic gleam sparkled in Standing Bear’s black eyes and a taunting sneer curled up his lips. He contemptuously stated, “If you yield to defeat, my quivering Arrow, I will spare your life in exchange for your horse and wanapin.”
Bright Arrow laughed in amusement. He confidently vowed, “The victory will be mine, Standing Bear. But I will spare your life and your honor if you call a halt to this treachery.”
“Then you will die this sun, for I will never yield to you,” his foe asserted.
Sweat glistened on both men as their ragged breathing belied their exertions. Their eyes locked in battle as they sized up each other. Yet, this battle was far from over. Both possessed the stamina, cunning, and brute strength to become the winner if the right moment presented itself. The major difference between the two warriors was obvious: Bright Arrow was too soft-hearted and idealistic; Standing Bear was obsessed with revenge and hatred. Such warring emotions claimed much of their energy, causing the battle to continue longer than necessary.
“Cheyenne and Oglala, hear me well,” Standing Bear called out. “I have offered Bright Arrow his life, but he refuses my generosity.” With his knife at readiness, he turned slightly as he spoke, “His eyes have been blinded by a white…” With all eyes and attentions on him, Standing Bear abruptly halted his verbal distraction to whirl and slash out at Bright Arrow.
Astute and watchful, Bright Arrow avoided the wild lunge. He ducked just as the knife swished overhead. He rammed Standing Bear in the side and knocked him off balance. Before Standing Bear could take advantage of his foe’s handicap, Bright Arrow had his left hand free.
Bright Arrow flexed his left hand to restore its circulation and dexterity. To unsettle his self-appointed rival, he agilely and casually tossed his knife back and forth between his deft hands. The two men began to gingerly and slowly move in a circular pattern, eyes and senses alert as each anticipated a moment for successful attack.
“Is a white whore’s body worth the life and honor of an Oglala brother?” Standing Bear mocked him.
“Is your death worth the foolish dream of taking my place?” Bright Arrow retorted.
“Keep your necklace and horse, but give me the white girl in exchange for your life,” he altered his offer of truce.
Knowing his foe was only trying to disarm him, Bright Arrow parried, “My loins would rebel at her needless sacrifice. Once you used her and slayed her, you would seek another excuse to challenge me. The b
rightness of the Arrow blinds you, Standing Bear,” he rebuked, then laughed heartily.
“Will you still laugh when the Bear’s claws have severed your throat and torn her body to pieces?” he smugly challenged.
Before Bright Arrow could reply, Standing Bear gave the Cheyenne war-cry and recklessly rushed at him, hoping to catch him off guard, failing to do so. Careful to avoid contact with his adversary’s weapon, each man struggled for triumph and self-protection.
It was obvious to the other braves and to Bright Arrow that Standing Bear was out to slay him. Bright Arrow knew what was at stake; he hastily pressed his advantage in order to end this affair. With just a few more swift and cunning moves, Standing Bear lay mercifully dead in his own blood. It was Bright Arrow who sang the Death Chant for the fallen warrior. He then gave the command to search the wagons for anything of value to them, to prepare Standing Bear’s body to be carried home, and to make ready to head out.
When Bright Arrow went to retrieve his costly prize of war, she was missing. During the fight she must have regained her senses and fled while everyone was deeply engrossed in the battle between the two warriors. Noting her shallow tracks upon the face of Mother Earth, he knew it would take but minutes to trace and to seize her. He grinned mischievously at a new idea which came to mind, his annoyance giving way to pleasant intrigue.
He went to his warriors and related his coming sport with the audacious white girl. He told of how he would stealthily trail her until she was utterly exhausted, overly confident, and halted for rest. He laughed as he confidently told of how he would pounce upon her and take his pleasure upon her terrified, weakened body. He spoke of how he would taunt and intimidate her until she pleaded for mercy. He said he would take his ease in punishing her for instilling disloyalty and dangerous desire within the heart and body of Standing Bear. Her mind and body would discover the same pains and humiliation which the fallen warrior’s had! But he secretly hoped her inevitable suffering would lessen the guilt and anguish which he now felt at being forced to kill for her.
Tender Ecstasy Page 3