Defiant Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  Gray Eagle stared at his retreating back, wondering at his many strange words and sincere pleas. How was it possible that a half-breed scout could know her so well in such a short time? Had she dared to befriend an Indian, for that was how Powchutu would be viewed by the white man? Would she not fear and hate him as she did others? Once more, he realized that he had underestimated the green-eyed girl’s strength, courage, and gentleness.

  Gray Eagle could not help but worry that this scout had been secretly watching his woman. Desire for Alisha had been evident on his face and in his voice. How was it that he knew her so well? Such knowledge of her and her thoughts could have only come from a close relationship, one that Gray Eagle feared. He determined to learn more about this strange friendship. He feared and mistrusted the look of love the scout had innocently revealed to him; he respected the look of hatred and revenge that had also been reflected in the scout’s features. Gray Eagle knew that such a combination of emotions within an enemy was dangerous; this scout certainly would require close observation in the future.

  Gray Eagle’s piercing gaze remained on Powchutu until he had re-entered the fort and the gates had closed. Forbidden thoughts of Alisha’s turning to another man out of her loneliness, pain, and fear would-not leave him. He could envision the scout at her side, offering her protection and love. Far worse, he could not blame her for reaching out to another for the happiness and acceptance which he himself had denied her. He could not even comprehend the torment that she must have endured. With shame he recognized his own part in all of her sufferings.

  He could not deny that he had been responsible for the destruction of her people’s fortress, that he had led the raid in which her uncle and her friends had been killed. He could not take back the day when she had witnessed that raid or the night when she had watched some of those same men punished for crimes against the Oglala, crimes which she knew nothing about. He could not erase her agonizing memories of other times when he had made her torments unbearable. He could not justify his brutality to her. He could understand her feelings, but could not have altered his treatment of her to have prevented them. He was the son of the chief, himself the next Oglala chief. He could not have behaved toward his white captive, his enemy, any differently than he had done; his pride and rank would not have allowed it. Alisha could not help being white; he, being Indian. But these facts created problems which he could not change.

  He almost wished that he could have explained several things to that angry scout. Yet it was impossible to tell him that he was secretly in love with a white girl, for no one except White Arrow shared that incredible fact. One day Gray Eagle would tell Alisha, and she would then understand the necessity of this day’s humiliation. How he hungered to defend the scout’s accusation about her beating! But he could not tell him that tribal law had demanded her punishment or he would have lost face before his people. He could not tell this man that he had personally placed the five lashes upon her tender back, that he had done so to prevent her death, that he had suffered terribly to think that she might die from his cruelty, that he had personally taken care of her injuries after that, that he had remained at her side in prayer until the war council had called him away, or that he could not live without her. He could tell no one these facts, for no one would accept the joining of a white girl with the future chief of the Sioux. He could close his eyes and almost hear the mocking laughter at such a match. Who would fear or respect a warrior who captured, fell in love with, and joined with his sworn enemy? But no matter what, he would have Alisha in some way.

  Gray Eagle could only hope that the scout had been wrong when he had spoken of Alisha’s hatred for him. He could only hope that it was wishful thinking upon the scout’s part. He realized that Alisha must fear him greatly, but did she now hate him? “We shall soon see, Little One . . .” he softly murmured to himself. The handsome warrior prayed that he had convinced the soldiers of his motive for revenge. If the scout had suspected more than this, it was apparent that he did not reveal it. In fact, the scout would probably do all in his power to help Alisha. He would certainly be aware of the power of Gray Eagle’s words. He would surely convince the white men to hand her over without a fight, if only to spare her life. Alisha’s feelings could not be considered at this time. Later, she would be made to understand.

  Gray Eagle gazed up at the heavens and he inhaled deeply. He mentally spoke with Alisha. I fear they would kill you, Little One, if they guessed the truth. The scout’s love for you is strong if he would risk a challenge to me to save you. He dares much in his speech! Bird of my heart, fly to me quickly and safely . . . it has been too long and too lonely without you.

  To the Great Spirit he prayed, help me if they reject my bluff and we are forced to attack. Protect her life as you would protect mine.

  Powchutu had walked back toward the fort with a heavy heart. He was seething with rage, for he knew what the outcome of this day would cost both him and Alisha. He cursed himself for not taking her away sooner. He had no doubts that the fort would give her up to Gray Eagle. He wondered if she would go back willingly. It would not matter anyway, for they would not give her a choice. He fumed angrily, damning them all.

  Powchutu wished that he could read Gray Eagle’s thoughts; he wished that he knew if that fierce warrior truly hated her or if he truly desired her. He could not help but ask himself if Gray Eagle would really attack the fort and kill all inside. He already had his answer: Gray Eagle did not make idle threats. There was no doubt in Powchutu’s mind that he would attack them—but kill Alisha? Powchutu dared not venture an answer to that terrible question.

  The same question kept returning to plague him: did Gray Eagle enjoy the suffering and shame of this tender creature in some sadistic way? Powchutu was aware of Gray Eagle’s hatred, though well-deserved, for the white mind: did he only wish to make the others suffer through her, and did he only wish to taunt them with their helplessness, and had he lived with her all those months and never truly known her? There were so many critical questions, but no clear answers.

  At that very moment, Powchutu vowed to himself that he would find some way to help Alisha, to free her from this brutal warrior, to take her far away from these cruel people. He could only hope and pray that he could find some way to make her his. He wanted with all his heart to give her back some of the happiness, love, and security that they had all long denied her.

  Powchutu had slowly approached the wooden gates, stalling the inevitable for as long as possible. He would not permit himself to dwell on Alisha’s reaction. First, he had to face General Galt with the brave’s ultimatum. The gates had opened to allow him to re-enter. He quickly walked over to the general’s office, ignoring the many questions from those around him.

  Once in front of the general’s desk, Powchutu delivered his report. He repeated the warrior’s demands, then lay the leash and thongs down on the desk. The general listened, white-faced and shocked. The other officers glanced from one to the other in surprise and confusion. Powchutu tried to keep his face and voice void of all the emotions as he related the terms of the truce between the red and white man. He was careful not to mention his personal pleas concerning Alisha. He instinctively knew to make Gray Eagle’s demands sound as cold and brutal as possible for Alisha’s sake.

  When he had finished, the general exclaimed, “He what? That’s absurd, Powchutu! Surely you misunderstood him, or this is some kind of joke? Why would he want that girl back so badly? My God, man, he almost beat her to death in his camp only a few weeks ago!” As soon as Galt had said this, he thrust it into the far recesses of his mind, knowing it might color his final decision.

  “His pride and honor, you say?” he muttered, almost to himself in deep thought. “Strange that he would demand her return rather than the men who raided his encampment . . . He thinks it’ll make us suffer to hand her over to him? Shame us, you say? Make us look like cowards, huh? Either the man’s a bloody fool, or there’s more to his demand than m
eets the eye.”

  Galt’s beady eyes glanced around the room as he pondered these perplexing demands. It quickly came to his mind that Gray Eagle had attacked her fortress, killing everyone except her. It had never been rumored that Gray Eagle took white female captives before. He wondered what the most feared and awesome warrior ever born would want with this particular girl. Gray Eagle’s feelings for the white man, especially soldiers, were well-known. Was it possible that there was some personal motive behind these ultimatums?

  Galt silenced one of the officers who was about to make some comment on this trying situation: he needed more time to sort out his own thoughts. He called to mind every time he had seen Alisha and every word they had spoken between them. He had to admit that she was injured when Jeffery had brought her here, but maybe there was some other explanation for her condition. He told himself that perhaps Gray Eagle was not responsible for her lashing. To him, it certainly did not fit with the image he had of him. No, there was something else going on here, and he was going to damn well find out what it was. So, he wants her back to humiliate us? he sneered. Perhaps she was his woman? ...

  His face brightened with an idea. “You all remember what the Brown girl said? Of course he doesn’t want that whore back, but she just might be right about Miss Alisha’s being his squaw. If that’s the truth, no wonder he’s demanding her return. That’s all that’ll make any sense. Well, well, well . . . this puts a different light on things. I’d venture to say that she’s managed to fool all of us. After Lieutenant Gordon brought her here, she didn’t have any choice but to claim she was only his prisoner. Why the little tramp! After all the help we gave her, now she’s about to get us all killed, is she? The Brown girl claimed Miss Williams saved his life and helped him escape their fortress. It sounds like a good reason for sparing her life to me. Plus, she’s a real beauty. Seems he sees that, too. Could be he was enjoying her just a little bit too much to give her up. Wonder how the hell he convinced the other warriors to go along with this farce to get his squaw back?”

  Captain Tracy spoke up, “From what I understand, Sir, those Injuns would cut off their right hands for him. Half of ‘em love, and respect him, and the other half are scared to death of defying him. You’re damn right they would help him do anything! No matter why he wants her back, he’ll get her one way or another. You know what shape we’re in right now. We don’t dare call his bluff. ’Sides, I was one of those with Gordon on that raid. I sure as hell won’t go near his camp again.” He levelled hardened eyes on Jeffery and stated, “Orders or no orders . . .”

  For some unknown reason, Jeffery remained silent for a time. It was Sergeant Percy who spoke up next, “What if it’s just a show of power, Sir? Could it be that he’s afraid we might hold her hostage against his attack? The whole matter sounds odd to me, too. We might try to call his bluff and see what happens.”

  “Don’t be a bloody fool, Percy!” shouted Captain Tracy. “He wouldn’t hesitate to take this fort apart to get her back if that’s what he really wants. I should have stopped that raid against his camp.”

  Percy taunted, “Why didn’t you, Tracy? You outrank Lieutenant Gordon.”

  “I also outrank you, Sergeant Percy, so I suggest you silence your mouth pronto. It’s done and over. We just better make certain that we don’t go near his camp again.”

  “Not even to rescue another damsel in distress?” jested Corporal Riley, twinkling eyes challenging Jeffery to speak up. “Whatever would our good Lieutenant do for amusement if we hadna rescued those two young ladies?” Everyone caught the slur on the word “ladies.”

  “You wouldn’t know a lady if she bit you on the nose, Riley,” Percy said with laughter filling his barreled chest.

  “Would that be a fact now?” Riley challenged. “Could be that I been taking personal lessons from the lieutenant here.”

  “Gordon give away any of his secrets? I think not. He wouldn’t allow anyone to get near Miss Alisha, that is, until she turns him down one more time. Of course he shares his harlot, Miss Brown, with everyone.” Bawdy laughter filled the small room. “Have you given up on Miss Alisha yet?”

  Jeffery straightened up in his chair as the conversation became too personal for his tastes. His crystal-blue eyes hardened to ice. “Sergeant Percy, Corporal Riley, I suggest that you two men remember your places and your manners. I daresay that I find you both lacking in respect. I do not take kindly to having my personal business bandied about by the likes as you. But just in case you are wondering, I have no claims on either Miss Alisha Williams or Miss Kathy Brown. I merely offered Miss Williams my protection and friendship, which she chose not to accept. If any of you gentlemen can acquire her friendship, by all means feel free to do so,” he sneered, knowing the lift of his orders to leave Alisha alone were coming too late for any of them to take advantage of it. By God, if he couldn’t get anywhere with Alisha, he was certainly not going to give any one of these louts the chance to do so. No one had dared to oppose his strict order to leave Alisha to him.

  Riley and Percy reluctantly held their tongues; Tracy did not. “Aw, come on, Gordon. Everyone knows you’ve been after the Williams girl ever since you brought her here, naked and wrapped only in your jacket. Do you plan to send her back to Gray Eagle before you have a chance to win her over? I bet you ain’t never had a woman refuse all that charm and wealth before, have you? Kind of sticks in yore craw, don’t it?”

  “Shut your mouth, Tracy,” Jeffery warned through clenched teeth.

  “I believe you’re forgetting who you’re talking to, Lieutenant! If memory serves me, captains don’t take orders from lieutenants.”

  “Some do, Tracy. Could be that you won’t be a captain any longer than I remain a lieutenant...”

  Tracy caught the innuendo concerning Jeffery’s social and political power. He should’t doubt that Jeffery could get anything he wanted with his family’s power. Anything but Miss Alisha Williams in his bed. He grinned as he imagined how that fact must have galled the surly, arrogant lieutenant. He was a man used to getting everything and anything that he desired, until Alisha came along. No doubt she would pay heavily for her public rejection of him.

  The general had been nervously pacing the floor as he weighed his options. He had only been half listening to his men argue until they broke into his train of thought. “silenced!” he shouted. “This kind of talk won’t get us anywhere. How about if we discuss our situation instead of Lieutenant Gordon’s love life?”

  Galt had been recalling the first time that he had met and had spoken with Alicia. It had been shortly after her arrival at Fort Pierre. She had come to ask his help in returning to the Colonies, and from there back to England. She had shown good breeding with her excellent manners and poise. She had seemed to be unaware of her low status as an ex-captive. Later, she had unconsciously let her desperation show. She had shown concern for her penniless state, knowing that she had no family or possessions. Then, there was that day when she had forced him to reprimand both Jeffery and Powchutu in public. Had she been so blind or so stupid that she could not see that choosing the scout’s company over the lieutenant’s was trouble? He had wished that he could have sent her on her way that very day. This girl was nothing but trouble; her beauty and availability would have the men at each other’s throats. He had seen it coming, but had been unable to prevent it. Now, here she was at the center of this new and deadly conflict.

  The general paced the floor and nervously mopped the perspiration from his brow and upper lip, the stubble of his unshaven face rasping loudly in the silence. His choices were clear: he could either turn her over to Gray Eagle and take the chance that he would stick to his truce, or he could keep the girl as a hostage. He would not even consider the choice of protecting her, even if she were innocent or being vilely used by both of them. No matter his decision, either choice was dangerous and each outcome uncertain.

  He muttered aloud, “Without a doubt he can take this fort apart and kill all of u
s. But does he know this? Why shouldn’t he? Hell, it’s his scouts that are preventing our supplies and replacements from getting here. His damn braves are responsible for the raids on our hunting parties. Yes, he knows he has us—no food, supplies, or extra men. Damn the red son-of-a-bitch!” he exploded.

  “Tracy, do you think we should take the gamble and comply with his demands?”

  Jeffery sneered, “He wants to shove our noses into the dirt. I say, shoot the bastard! We can’t let him or any savage make cowards of us.”

  Percy spoke up and reasoned, “Just like you rubbed his nose in the dirt, right in his own encampment? From what I hear, Gray Eagle isn’t a man to take such an insult lightly. ’Sides, it’s better to be a live coward than a dead brave man.”

  “One thing for certain, he’s much too powerful and important to be our enemy,” Tracy concluded. “What does it matter why he wants the girl back. The fact remains that he’s determined to have her.”

  Riley braved the lion when he grinned and added, “Could be that Lieutenant Gordon can’t find it in his heart to hand her over to his most envied enemy. Whatcha say about that, Sir?”

  “I say that I’ve warned you before, Riley, to keep your nose out of my affairs. Or else Gray Eagle won’t have to rub your nose in the dirt; I will.”

  “Shut up, the both of you!” Captain Tracy shouted, gaining courage from this trying crisis. “Shame that you sent Major Tully out on that patrol two days ago instead of Lieutenant Gordon, Sir. Could be that Gray Eagle would’ve captured him and been satisfied with only his punishment. You all know what we’re up against out there. There’s no way we can defend this fort for very long against that many Indians. Not in the shape we’re in. That’s one Indian we should make a truce with, and pronto! I say to give him back his squaw. You got us into this, you glory-seeking rich boy! Now shut your mouth and help us get out of it!”