Tender Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  Cornered, she was compelled to clear the air between them. “I have seen the way you stare at her. I have also seen the way she looks at you. I am not blind or naive, my husband. Do you grow tired of me? Does your age demand you prove your great prowess? Do you also fall.prey to her magic as our son does?” she voiced her fears and doubts aloud.

  “Your eyes play tricks upon you, my wife. I do no more than study her. I only wished to discover what magic she uses upon our son. I do not crave Rebecca upon my sleeping mat. I have desired no other woman since I first took you. Each time I give you great pleasure, my prowess is proven to me. I need no other female. Upon my life and honor, I have not and never will grow weary of you,” he stated, smiling into her dewy eyes.

  “Then why have you not touched me since her arrival?” she cried out to him, her pain vividly etched upon her lovely face. “You say you cannot do so when she is around. But what of all the moments when she is not? Do you not need me as I need you?” she implored.

  “I was not aware of such feelings and pain within you. I have many things upon my mind. Once these problems are settled and the girl is gone, it will be as it was before she came,” he reasoned, unwittingly acknowledging that Rebecca was the crux of their trouble.

  “If Rebecca is not the problem, then how will her departure settle everything? Will your love and desire for me return only then?” she pressed, dreading his answer.

  “You speak words which confuse me, Shalee. How can I pretend nothing is wrong when this white whore seeks to entrap our only son? How can I act as before when you move closer to her each day and further away from me?” he accused tersely.

  “That isn’t true, Wanmdi Hota!” she argued. “I have not refused your touch; you have resisted mine. I said I was sorry; I said I was wrong. She must leave our tepee.”

  “I gave my word to our son she could remain seven moons. I cannot go back on it. The girl is nothing to me, Shalee. When the time comes, I will take her away.”

  “No! Send her away, but do not take her yourself.”

  “You do not trust me? You think I will take her to my mat after I leave camp!” he furiously exploded in disbelief.

  “It is Rebecca I do not trust…not you,” she faltered in distress.

  Incensed, he snapped, “Am I not strong enough to resist a mere white whore?”.

  Shalee began to weep. This conversation was going crazy. What was happening between them? Why was she so tense and frightened? Why were they at each other’s throats? “I do not know what has come over me, Wanmdi Hota. Strange things are happening around me and within me. I am afraid. I cannot seem to master my mind or my actions. I feel stranded upon a mountain which is rapidly crumbling beneath my feet. I do not know how to save myself or how to stop the landslide. Help me, Wanmdi Hota, for terror rules my heart and soul,” she sobbed in rising panic.

  Gray Eagle’s arms enclosed her within their warm and protective vise. His lips covered her face with kisses. She clung to him. “I need you, Wanmdi Hota. Please make love to me. Please tell me that all will be right soon…”

  “It will, my love. I promise you this.” His mouth claimed hers as they eased down to the grass, oblivious to all except their urgent need for each other. They made love passionately and desperately, needing to erase all painful realities.

  He murmured words of endearment and comfort into her ears, his warm breath causing her to quiver with unsuppressed longing. He took her with intensity and unleashed passion, ravenous from many days of denial. She feverishly responded to smoldering fires which burst into colorful, torrid flames. Eyes of igneous black coal fused with molten, emerald ones. Each ached for the pleasure and serenity of a total union in spirit and body. His insistent tongue probed the inviting recess of her warm mouth. His hands fondled her breasts, teasing the taut nipples until she moaned in urgent need of him.

  His stimulating manhood plunged into her receptive body until she was lost in a daze of mindless frenzy. His thrusts varied from hasty, savage lunges to agonizingly sweet explorations to deliberately slow piercings. When his stamina and restraint could no longer resist the pleas of their bodies, he moved rapidly and purposely to bring them to an intoxicating finality. Without a thought to being overheard, she cried out in pleasure as her body mingled the fiery liquids of her stormy release with his. Spent, they clung to each other until their ragged respirations returned to normal and placid relaxation settled in.

  In the blissful aftermath of their unrestrained joining, he gazed down at her and playfully teased, “Does that take away your jealousy and doubt, my love? I need and crave no woman but you. If ever I did desire another female, it would never be Rebecca. I only desire her out of our lives and tepee. This I swear to you. She is evil. She cannot remain here.”

  “Wanmdi Hota? Why do you hate this particular girl so much?” she unexpectedly inquired, catching him completely off guard in this stirring moment.

  In spite of his self-control, he noticeably tensed. “Once more your eyes deceive you, Shalee. She is only a white slave, nothing more,” he alleged, his reaction and tone belying his claim.

  Not wishing to disturb this new and fragile bond, she painfully allowed this obvious lie to pass. Later, she would demand the truth. Perhaps Rebecca held the solution to this mystery, a missing key Shalee resolved to find in order to release the green monster which intimidated her.

  They lingered in that romantic setting until the moon was above their heads, suggesting they retire for much needed rest.

  Gray Eagle and Bright Arrow departed early that next morning to seek vital information concerning the new fort and a rumor of white settlers who had pushed their way into the Sioux’s sacred grounds to the west. It would be late the next afternoon before they returned. After which, only one day remained before Rebecca’s planned departure…

  The following day passed in moody silence between the two women: females who were visibly similar, yet, vastly different. Much of the time, Rebecca was left alone in the quiet tepee while Shalee visited other Indian wives, a gracious duty of a chief’s wife. When the last chore was completed and the evening meal was over, each retired to her own mat.

  “Shalee?” Rebecca called out softly across the distance which separated them in many ways. She would be leaving here soon and she yearned to depart in peace after all this Indian woman and her son had done for her.

  Shalee sat up and looked over at this girl who was tearing her world and her heart asunder. “Sha?” she replied frostily, her gaze guarded.

  “Shalee hiya koda?” Rebecca began, not knowing how else to breach their language barriers. Her frightened, sad heart with its heavy burden of a dismal future craved any measure of appeasement and acceptance.

  “Shalee Oglala. Rebecca wasichu. Rebecca kaskapi,” the Indian princess responded. “Hiya koda,” she added to bluntly send her point home, hoping to punish Rebecca’s treachery, hoping to return some of the pain this girl had brought into their lives and tepee.

  “But why?” Rebecca pleaded, coming to kneel before her. “God, how I wish we could communicate! How can I make you understand how important you are to me?”

  In desperation and despair, Rebecca poured out her soul with all its torment, guilt, and fears, “I thought you liked me and had accepted me. I’ve never met any woman as kind or as unselfish as you. You’re so beautiful and special. I love your son, Shalee. It will hurt deeply to give him up. I’ve tried to make you and Gray Eagle like me. I don’t know what else to do! His fierce hatred of me is clear, but I don’t know how to win his truce. I’ve tried to obey you. I’ve tried to prove I want to stay here.”

  In a note hinting of hysteria, her voice plunged forward in search of the answer to this agonizing mystery, “Don’t you think I know how lucky I am to be in this tepee? My God, haven’t I lost and suffered enough! Your people have left me with little pride or honor. What more can I do to earn your friendship? Must I grovel and beg upon my knees for what I have earned? How can I reach your husband when he
petrifies me every time I look at him? I see such hatred and resentment in his eyes. I do not understand! I have done nothing to him, to any of you! After all your people have taken from me, is Bright Arrow’s love and acceptance too much to expect in return? I need him! I love him! I’ve seen the love and closeness you share with Gray Eagle. Soon, my love and I will be cruelly parted forever. Please don’t take this short time away from us.”

  Distressed and in despair, the words came tumbling out without control. In desperate need of inner peace, she denied herself’all pride with this much needed emotional release, for so much had been tightly controlled within her for many days. She jumped up to nervously pace the stuffy confines of the tepee. She rambled on and on, telling Shalee countless things. “You don’t know what it’s like to be so frightened that you want to faint or to scream hysterically. You know nothing of shame, of torment without reason. If there was any place to go, I would flee this hellish life! But there is none, for the whites would scorn me more than the Indians do. There is no freedom when you no longer have a home or family.” Her voice became hollow and strained as she continued.

  “Do you know what it takes to force yourself to endure such wicked things just to prevent far worse torment? It has taken all of my strength and will to hide my resentment and anger from all of you. But I needed and wanted your acceptance and friendship. I must have this time with Bright Arrow! I have cast aside all pride and blindly ignored my shame and torment. For what? For a truce which you all deny. It was only possible because you reached out to me, you helped me! Now, you’ve turned against me and I do not understand why. I have lost my only friend, and soon I will lose my only love. How much pain and loss can I bear?”

  She pleaded with the silent, astonished woman before her, “Tell me what I do wrong! I will prevent it! I have tried to help you. I have been respectful when my heart cried out against your cruelties to me. I have been obedient when my mind screamed for me to rebel and resist this savage enslavement. But such actions only would have hurt me more. Rebellion and curses would have denied the little peace and great love which I found here. What more can I do?” she asked breathlessly.

  She came to sit before Shalee. “I want to be your friend, Shalee. Must I endure such loneliness and despair? I have nothing and no one. I love Bright Arrow. Is that so wrong? I know we’re different, but my heart and body cry out for him. I do not know how or why. I have tried to be friendly to your husband. If he did not look so much like Bright Arrow, then I could hate him as much in return!” she vowed, tormented by this injustice. “If my fate was not in his cruel hands, then I would cease these futile attempts to please him! I would claw that look of fierce hatred and scorn from his face!” she voiced her suppressed feelings aloud.

  “What ghost am I to him? Why is his hatred of me so great? The way he looks at me…” She shuddered violently, “I feel as if he’s probing my very soul. How could a gentle woman like you ever love such a vicious savage? How he terrifies me with those evil black eyes which seem to pierce my very soul.”

  Shalee listened to the enlightening words from this dejected girl, wishing she dared to question her in English. She did not. Rebecca returned to her mat and fell upon it, weeping openly and bitterly. “God help me endure the savage existence your hatred condemns me to. God forgive me, for I cannot allow it. I will die first. I hate you all! I hate you for pretending to accept me. It was only a cruel joke, just like your son’s. The others laughed at the foolish way I fell into his cunning trap. I might be naive and stupid, but I know he wants me. It is your hatred which will not permit our love to grow. You will brutally kill it as you do your enemies. It isn’t fair! I cannot help being white! Do you think I care if he is Indian! No! I will die before another man touches me!” She angrily wiped away her tears. Rebecca’s tone became soft and entreating as she pleaded, “You’re a woman; you should understand what I feel and have endured.”

  Bitter laughter came forth with Rebecca’s self-recriminations, “I was wrong. I was so stupid and gullible. There is no happiness for me anymore, only hatred and whoredom. But I can never meekly submit to such evil. I will force your husband to kill me first. He’s brutal and wicked. If I but defied or attacked him once, he would instantly end this hell for me. Oh, Bright Arrow, if only I had never met you!” she wretchedly wailed.

  Shalee had heard enough, too much. Her heart was stormed with guilt and shame for what this girl was enduring. She had misjudged her and her actions. Of course Rebecca was unlike she had been at this same age! Rebecca was wiser, stronger, and more resilient. Rebecca had been born of this demanding wilderness, not to an English estate as she herself had been. The vivid reality of her erroneous judgment stunned her. Rebecca was bravely dealing with this staggering situation in the way she felt safest. She had not been an innocent in the same ways Alisha Williams, now Princess Shalee, had once been so long ago. At seventeen, Rebecca was more of a wise and strong woman than she had been at twenty!

  Shalee walked over to Rebecca’s mat. She knelt beside her and tenderly stroked her coppery hair. “Hiya ceya, Rebecca,” she coaxed the girl to stop crying. “Shalee koda.”

  Rebecca lifted tear-filled eyes to Shalee. “Shalee koda?” she doubtfully questioned her hearing.

  Shalee smiled and replied, “Shalee koda. Wookiye,” she offered, making the sign for peace. It pained Shalee’s heart and tore at her conscience to suddenly realize she was brutally tormenting this vulnerable child as she had once been tormented by the relentless Oglala.

  Rebecca flung her arms around Shalee and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Shalee. You’re the only one who gives me the courage to go on with this pretense of meekness and obedience. I cannot fight you all. Yet, it would be fatal and foolish to resist you.”

  “Rebecca istimna. Rebecca washtay. Shalee, Rebecca koda.” Shalee pushed her down to the mat and smiled once more. What could a little kindness and friendship cost? If only there had been a Shalee for her all those years ago…

  Both women spent a restful, peaceful night. That next day, their truce was again in full bloom. They shared a deeper bond of trust which only they comprehended. The chores went quickly and cheerfully. They behaved more like mother and daughter than Indian princess and white captive. Many noticed the way in which Rebecca warmly responded to Shalee and the glow of affection and respect within her lovely eyes. But it seemed only natural for even an enemy to love and to respect the beautiful and gentle Indian princess who was joined to their chief.

  Rebecca could not explain this new change in the Indian princess, but she readily accepted it. Still, she inwardly knew it would not alter the chief’s adamant decision concerning her imminent departure.

  With Shalee, it was much the same. There was no peaceful way to change her husband’s mind and to attempt to do so would only cause resentment. If Rebecca was permitted to remain here with them, the decision had to come from her husband. Although she wished she could converse with this charming creature, she dared not do so.

  Rebecca picked up the water skins and headed to the stream. She knelt near an area where the water was flowing steadily and placed the skin below the clear, bubbly surface. When the first skin was full, she hung it on one of the Y-shaped branches which were situated at intervals along the grassy bank to assist this particular chore. As she leaned forward to fill the second one, she was forcefully shoved into the waist-deep water.

  Caught by complete surprise, her nose and mouth took in enough water to strangle her. She came up coughing and gasping for air. Drenched and shaken, she stared at the five Indian girls giggling and ribbing each other. She retreated several steps as they ominously came forward to squat by the edge of the stream.

  As if by some pre-arranged signal and devilish plan, they scooped up handfuls of mud and began to throw them at the befuddled and defenseless Rebecca. Struck rigid and speechless by this unprovoked attack, the white girl anxiously submitted to this cruel joke. She couldn’t very well rush at them and defend herself; they
would no doubt claim she had assailed them! They had chosen their time well, for no adults or braves were in view.

  When she was completely covered with clingy mud, the girls calmly washed their hands and strolled off as they snickered and whispered, pleased by her fear and filthy condition. Rebecca glanced down at her clothes and arms, viewing the results of their mischief. Her hands went up to brush the moist clumps from her auburn hair and tawny face. She leaned forward to rinse out her mouth, nose, and eyes.

  Tears of dejection pooled in her sad eyes. Sinking to her knees, she wept in despair and anguish. Would it always be this way? How much longer could she accept their cruelties and suffer in silence before she was instinctively compelled to defy these hateful girls and their people?

  Pride and rebellion stormed her mind. She gritted her teeth as she suppressed her outrage and humiliation. She sat upon the stream bed as she washed her arms and legs. She ducked beneath the surface to cleanse herself as best she could without soap or a cloth. She scrubbed her dress without removing it. She would simply tell Shalee she had slipped in the mud and fallen into the water. It would be futile and absurd to run back to camp crying and ranting about her vile treatment. The Indians would laugh in her face, maybe even punish her for accusations against their daughters. Someday…

  A much different story was taking place far from the tranquil Oglala camp. Gray Eagle and his brooding son had ridden for hours toward Paha Sapa, the Sioux’s sacred grounds, to discover if careless trappers were indeed violating the grounds of sacred spirits and dead warriors. Many times in the past, the brazen whites had trespassed upon such places, and had stolen the possessions of dead warriors. Of all enemy offenses, this was the most unforgivable.

  The two warriors had travelled in silence. Shortly after high noon, they left their horses in a concealed place and soundlessly made their way to the reported area of desecration. The sight which greeted their eyes filled each man with fury. They mutely studied the scene for a brief time before confronting these reckless white foes.