Tender Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  Assailed, she desperately lied to him, her eyes and expression revealing an honest despair and sadness. “Because he is holding my parents and little sister captive. That first day I came here, you asked if I would risk my life for someone I loved; as you can see, the answer is yes. I did free the Indian brave, and I would do it all again. I couldn’t stand my family’s torture anymore. It’s far easier to die, Timothy, than to stand there helplessly watching and listening to your own family being…” Could she pull off this deception? she wondered in terror. Could she outwit Gray Eagle’s lethal treachery or dispel Timothy’s suspicions?

  She swallowed and inhaled raggedly. “It doesn’t matter now. He’ll probably kill them anyway. Papa said an Indian was a man of his word, but I don’t believe it’s true. I think Papa was only trying to convince me to come here so at least one of us could escape torment and death. God, what am I doing here in this savage land?” she cried out in anguish. She had lost Bright Arrow, and now she would lose what little dignity she had left. Strange, but her defeat would ironically come at the hands of her own people and not his, just as the truculent chief had plotted.

  Timothy glared at her. He abruptly released her hair. She covered her face with her hands and wept. He apprehensively paced the floor, contemplating her unexpected claims. Knowing of Gray Eagle’s cunning mind and his awesome power, Timothy seriously wondered if Rebecca might now be telling the truth. Did this crafty ploy explain why Gray Eagle hadn’t contacted the fort or made any attempt to attack them? Was he truly blackmailing this vulnerable girl into helping him? Her excellent acting in the preceding days spoke out against her.

  “Wha’ were Gray Eagle’s plans, Rebecca?” he asked in a deceptively calm voice.

  “I was only ordered to find some way to free Bright Arrow. I was to tell him, ‘Ya wanhu. A’ta ku-wa.’ There’s a warrior in his camp who speaks pretty fair English. The words are supposed to mean his father was waiting near a certain tree and for him to go there after I released him. In exchange for my help, Gray Eagle promised us my family would be released and we must leave his lands. He said after Bright Arrow returned to his side, my family would be set free in exchange and sent here to get me,” she lied most convincingly.

  She looked up at him, her injury loudly accusing him of the same kind of savagery which he was fighting everyday. “I’m sorry for using you like that, Timothy. I didn’t mean to humiliate you or to hurt you. I know it was a shameful and wicked thing to do to my own people, but especially to you. You’ve been so kind and gentle with me. I know you can never forgive me for betraying you in this cruel manner. Gray Eagle is far more cunning and deadly than even you imagine: he said you would never suspect a mere girl. I had to do it, Timothy! My father told me that even if he lied and they were…didn’t survive, at least I would be safe and free. Safe and free? Some joke, isn’t it?” she scoffed bitterly. But that wasn’t what ravaged her tender heart. She had been used just as vilely and deliberately as she had used Timothy.

  He observed her rueful expressions and listened to her tremulous voice. Rebecca continued, “I tried to talk you into making a truce and trading him so I wouldn’t have to help him. Why couldn’t you have released him? How important could his death be to you? You claimed you knew Gray Eagle well. Yet, I fear you are vastly ignorant of the full measure of his power and daring.”

  She levelled her misty eyes upon Timothy’s turbulent expression and asked gravely, “Will he keep his word? Will he release my family like he promised?”

  “I’m afeared I dinna trust ye, Rebecca. Ye fooled me once, but ne’er again.” Yet, he couldn’t forget or explain the fact she had been left behind. A new idea struck him. “Zounds! He left ye behind tae open the gates for them tae sneak in an’ kill us while we sleep! That’s why ye still be ‘ere!” he furiously concluded.

  Aghast, she gaped at him. Even to free her lover, she would never have gone that far! “No! I would never do such a wicked thing, not even to save my own family! Sparing Bright Arrow’s life to save my family is one thing, but to help the Indians massacre an entire fort? My God, Timothy, surely you can’t honestly think I would do such a thing!”

  “I dinna know wha’ ye might or could do, Rebecca. Ye sweetly wormed ye way in ‘ere an’ into my life. Then ye release one of the mos’ deadly warriors alive. Now, ye play the pitiful, innocent captive! An’ all the while ye charmed an’ wooed me, ye was plottin’ agin’ me!” he snapped hatefully. “Trust ye? Nae way, lass.” Bitterness contorted his features.

  “You’ll have to when my father comes here tomorrow,” she bravely and boldly announced. “Then you’ll see I speak the truth.”

  “Nae one will be comin’ ‘ere, Rebecca,” he denied her words. “Nae one will get in or out. Ye be mine now, lass,” he vowed.

  She made one last attempt to deceptively vindicate herself, “He won’t release them? It was all for nothing?” The tension and fear too much, she fainted.

  Timothy seized her shoulders and shook her violently. “It canna work, lass. I’m on tae ye grand actin’ now.”

  He gazed down into her ashen face with its fresh injury. He dropped her frame upon the bunk. After several pinches upon her cool arms without any response, he knew she wasn’t pretending. He suddenly recalled her bad dream on that first day. She had cried out, “Don’t kill them.” He carefully analyzed this precarious situation. What if she was telling the truth? Vexed by this enigma, he gritted his teeth until his jaw cramped.

  He splashed cool water upon her colorless face, arousing her. He was looking at her in a strange manner. “Will you please wait for two days before killing me, Timothy? You can lock me in the stockade if you wish. Give my family time to get here and explain. Just two days, please…” she entreated wretchedly.

  “If ye do hae a family in his camp, Rebecca, then I’m sorry for ye. He wanna let them go.”

  “But he promised! I risked my life to save his son’s! What about their famed generosity and coups for courage and…and for keeping my end of the bargain?” she shouted at him.

  “Indians dinna mak’ deals wi’ enemies,” he announced, observing her intently from beneath slightly hooded eyes.

  “Then why did he trust me to keep my word?” she argued.

  “Ye tell me, lass,” he somberly challenged, intrigued by this mystery before him.

  She sighed wearily and vowed, “I honestly don’t know. I guess because he realized how stupid and gullible I was. But Papa said…Papa said for me to obey him. Why, Timothy?” she sadly beseeched him.

  “Why dinna ye tell me this sooner? I could hae helped,” he smoothly stated, waiting for the moment she would entrap herself. “Ye Papa was wrong, lass.”

  “What could you have done? Ridden into his camp and rescued them?” she sneered angrily. “You know that was impossible! I was forced to help him.”

  “I could hae protected ye, an’ kept him captive. I could hae traded him for ye family,” he sought to trick her again.

  She refused his tainted bait. “I asked if you would trade him for white captives, and you said no. Besides, you wouldn’t have helped me once you’d heard the truth. I know how you men feel about white women who’ve…” She turned away from him, dramatically using her one remaining argument, acutely aware it would sway him in one direction.

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her around to face him. She lowered her head in mock shame. He put his hand under her chin and lifted it, forcing her to look at him. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She quivered in her attempt to hold back her tears. Timothy and her newborn guilt had been unknown faces when she had planned this perilous charade.

  “Wha’ truth, Rebecca? White women who do wha?” he sternly demanded.

  She opened her eyes and glared at him. Her fury at Gray Eagle and herself and her pain at Bright Arrow’s loss ripped at her heart. “What do you think they do with white women, Lieutenant Moore! Would you have helped an Indian…slave? Would you have asked one to marry you? Would you ev
en want to touch her? To even look at her? No, Timothy. If I had told you everything, he would still be your captive and I would be treated like dirt. It was bad enough to free him, but to tell you about my life in their camp…I couldn’t. The past few days are the first time in weeks that I’ve felt clean, safe, happy, and loved. Loved?” she sneered bitterly. “Who could love or desire an Indian squaw? Does that answer your questions, sir? Have I spilled enough blood and guts upon your floor? God, how I wish I were a man!” she fiercely exploded to release some of the tension within her.

  “Who did ye belong tae, Rebecca?” he questioned cruelly and persistently.

  She glared at him. She had foolishly allowed Gray Eagle to shove her from his son’s life. But the thing which hurt most was the fact her lover had not recognized this cruel ploy and prevented it. Or had it been clear to him last night? Had this ruse offered him the perfect solution to his dilemma? Had her lover also betrayed and deserted her?

  This feigned drama was mysteriously becoming real to her, for in many ways it was. “Would you prefer to know how many instead? For some curious reason, a savage doesn’t give you his name while he’s raping you. Maybe four. Maybe six. Was there any reason to count such degrading acts of violence? Just to clarify my devious methods, what would you have said and done if I had confessed everything?” she challenged, gluing her defiant gaze to his sullen one.

  Annoying guilt chewed at his gut. He resisted her pull upon his conscience. “Ye dinna trust or lik’ me enough tae find out,” he parried, not ready to commit himself in either direction.

  “You’re wrong, Timothy. I knew exactly what you would think and feel about me. I’ve seen women who were rescued and returned to their own kind. Enforced whoredom is cruel enough, but coerced into that same position by your own people is utterly barbaric. What now, sir? Am I to be hung or shot?”

  “Ye sound mighty sassy about dying. Ye talk tae eager tae get it done quickly. Is tha’ it, Rebecca? Ye want it done quickly an’easily?” he probed.

  “You and I both know what has to be done. I only want it ended, Timothy. When you’ve lived in Hell for weeks on end, death begins to look awfully good. If my parents are dead, my life is over. The Indians despise me; my own people hate me and wish me dead. Why fight the inevitable?” she murmured despondently.

  “Ye dinna think your treachery an’ betrayal deserve some punishment first?”

  “In your eyes, I’m certain they do. You’ve wanted me since I first got here. This is only an excuse to justify your doing the very same thing to me which they did. I knew there was never any chance for us to marry. Even if you had been serious, you would have guessed the truth the moment you took me. Would you mind explaining something to me?” Before he could say yes or no, she asked, “If an ex-slave isn’t good enough to marry or to be accepted again, why is she good enough to sleep with? Isn’t making love far more personal and degrading than befriending such a soiled woman?” she reasoned. “Why risk danger to rescue her?”

  “Ye confuse sex wi’ luv, Rebecca,” he corrected her.

  She thought about that a moment, then calmly agreed, “I suppose you’re right. But it shouldn’t be that way,” she mumbled to herself.

  She walked over to gaze out the window. She was very still and silent. He wondered what she was thinking and feeling. Even if she spoke the truth, what difference did it make now? Soon, his men would know of her humiliating treachery. He could almost hear their mocking laughter and ridicule at his own infatuation with her.

  “Rebecca?” he called out from behind her. She did not move or reply. “Ye’ll probably fin’ this amusin’, but I was serious about marriage.”

  “Perhaps before you knew the truth, Timothy. But you wouldn’t have felt the same once you learned it. I haven’t known you long enough to bare my sullied soul. If I had married you without telling you, you would have despised me afterwards. I wish things could have been different. I wish I could have known you before…before I had nothing left to offer you,” she stated, needing to hurt him as he was hurting her, was going to hurt her even more.

  “Damnit, Rebecca!” he suddenly thundered at her. “Why did ye allow those savages tae tak’ ye!” His hands were tied, and Gray Eagle had accomplished it. How that intrepid warrior must be laughing at his stupidity! A tiny girl and his worst enemy had bested him!

  She turned and levelled her misty gaze upon him. “How was I supposed to stop them, Timothy? I would rather have died. But they didn’t kill me! Afterwards, what did it matter? Only avoiding horrible torture mattered anymore. Is that my real crime, Timothy; I survived? If I’m so stained and wicked, then kill me here and now! Just let it be over,” she begged him.

  “It isn’t tha’ simple, lass. By now, my men know who was responsible. How would it look tae them if I allowed ye tae go free? My ‘onor an’ command ‘re at stake,” he sullenly informed her.

  “Honor? What could I possibly know about honor?” she cried. “Unless it’s what you men do in its name!”

  “Wha’ else can I do?” he demanded, waiting to hear her response. What had she expected in response to this treachery?

  Sensing his guile and indecision, she wearily shrugged her shoulders and stated, “If I were the commander, I would execute a dangerous traitor publicly. That should adequately restore your honor and authority. You certainly can’t trust me anymore, not that I don’t blame you. You can’t release me because then you would never know if I returned to an Indian lover or if they killed me for you. You have to consider your image and respect among your men. You could imprison me, but that would require a guard and free food. You claim the Indians probably killed my family by now, so I could never prove my motives for releasing Bright Arrow. It seems quite clear to me. I did release him. I did deceive you. Guilty as charged, sir. The penalty is death. When? As quickly as possible. How? Since you were the one I humiliated and betrayed, you should kill me. Bare hands or knife or gunshot? Does it really matter?” she challenged.

  “Ye be takin’ this mighty calmly, dinna ye think?”

  “No, Timothy. But I’ve lived in fear for a long time. I’ve seen people die horrible deaths every day for weeks. Somehow its threat doesn’t sting so harshly anymore. Death isn’t so awful, only the length of time it requires. Do you know how long it takes a man to die from thousands of knife slashes? Have you ever seen a man watch his own heart cut out? Or seen a man’s body accept twenty arrows at once? Or a girl of fourteen raped over and over until she’s mindless or dead? What do you honestly know about Indian slavery! I did what I had to. Now, you must do the same. What horror or pain could you possibly inflict upon me that I have not already witnessed or endured?”

  “I wish I knew if ye words ‘re true. If only I could trust ye, Rebecca…”

  “You can’t; I made that impossible,” she candidly declared, dismaying him. “After all these weeks of pain, it’ll finally be over…”

  “If I let ye escape, wad ye go back tae the Sioux camp? Wad ye be safe there?”

  “If you sent me out there, you would be killing me just as surely as if you shot me. You say you know the Indians, particularly Gray Eagle. Could any white woman be safe and happy in his camp? You asked if I was his whore. No, Timothy; he has never touched me. You also asked if I was Bright Arrow’s whore. If his raping me makes me his whore, then yes. But I am not his squaw. As for their accepting me, no. They despise all whites, including defenseless women. Do you know what it took to let him go after what he’s done to me?” She laughed coldly and asked, “Do you want to know what he said to me before he slipped out the door? He laughed in my face and called me a ‘witkowin.’ Do you know what that word means, Timothy? It means whore; I’ve heard it enough to know.”

  “Ye slep’ wi’ Bright Ar’er?” he snarled, enraged.

  “Slept? No.” She waited for his next question.

  “Ye know wha’ I meant! Did he mak’ luv tae ye?” he snapped.

  “Love? No. You just explained the vast difference a
moment ago. Sex is not love, remember?”

  He pounded his fist into his open hand. “I should hae killed the bastard! Do ye think I could tak’ his leavin’s?” he scoffed insensitively.

  “No, Timothy. I knew you couldn’t. No white man would. Why do you think I kept silent? Even love can’t be that forgiving and unselfish. But if I had known Gray Eagle was lying, I would have killed Bright Arrow myself,” she lied. “Gray Eagle would like nothing better than for you to hang me.”

  “If ye mak’ any attempt tae leave this room, I’ll kill ye wi’ the slowness of ae turtle. I hae some thinkin’ tae do. I’ll warn ye now, lass; ye bes’ decide tae tell the truth.” He whirled and left. The door clicked as it locked from the outside. He called through the door, “There’s ae guard outside the window. Dinna force me tae kill ye afore I hae time tae mak’ the right decision.”

  She sat down upon her bed. All appeared hopeless and spoiled now. All she could do was wait to die…Betrayed by my love, the heartrending words echoed in her turbulent mind.

  It was very late the next afternoon before anyone came to her stuffy room. She had been denied food and company. The water in the pitcher had been used up the previous morning. Thankfully the chamber pot did not reek from its daily disregard. She had cried until there were no more tears to call forth. The lantern would not light without oil and there were no candles available. So, she sat huddled upon her bunk: alone, hungry, thirsty, and numb. Yet, she savored the anguish and darkness, for they suited her mood. For what she had done, she deserved fatal punishment. The solitude, rejection, and denial of physical needs took its toll. She became listless and somber. She had been given too much time alone. The pains and sacrifices of the past two years fused into one massive agony, creating a void of total despair, gradually engulfing her in a protective world of unreality.

  The door opened and in stepped Timothy Moore. She never even glanced in his direction. She continued to stare unseeingly at the floor. He came forward and stood before her line of vision. No reaction.