Defiant Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  She stared into the cold, hard eyes of Gray Eagle and quietly replied, “Neither! Mato Waditaka is very kind and gentle, but I do not love him and fear I never will. If I must marry him, then I will do so and try to be a good wife for him. But in my heart, I believe he wishes to marry Shalee, not Lese. He is in love with the illusion of Shalee, not the reality of Lese. I do not wish to marry him because of what I shared with Wanmdi Hota. Neither can I marry Wanmdi Hota for he hates me too much and my father has forbidden it. He is cruel and unforgiving of my wasichu blood and upbringing. I would live in constant fear of his turning on me at any moment. I would never know love and happiness with him for he would not allow it. He will always see me as Alisha. His hate and vengeance will always be there between us. I could not make him a good wife for he would not permit it. The love of one person is not enough for a happy life together, Powchutu. My only hope for any kind of life is here. The best solution would be for me to marry you, my friend. We could love and accept each other for who and what we are.” Her last two statements were spoken in lighthearted jest, but Powchutu took them to heart.

  So, I was right! Powchutu thought as he watched the glint in Gray Eagle’s eyes at her words. He understands what she is saying. He lied to me and deceived her. She did not exactly say she loved him, nor did she say she hated him, only that he hated her and their joining would be impossible. I will not tell her he hears and knows her words for this would hurt her deeply. It would shame her to know he heard her pain and did nothing to stop it. She would know he heard her pleas and turned a deaf ear. I cannot hurt her this way, even to bring hatred in her heart for him. Soon he will be gone from her life and the need for knowing will also.

  Powchutu did not know what his silence would cost her and would live to regret this deadly mistake.

  Gray Eagle’s rich, deep voice broke the silence like thunder, “Ask Shalee if she will accept me to join?”

  Brave Bear pushed his hand off her chin and shouted at him, “No! It is decided! She will join with me. She fears and hates you. She has chosen me.”

  Gray Eagle’s gaze softened. His eyes glowed and a half-smile played across his sensuous mouth. “She fears me for I have hurt her deeply, but she does not hate me and never has. If you did not blind your eyes, you would see the truth. It is me she loves and wants, but is afraid to say so,” he finished confidently.

  His softened expression and deep voice had a strange, warming effect on her. It recalled the heat and memory of their passionate nights. This was his mood the day before all the trouble began. Helpless, she gazed into the handsome face and lost herself in the bottomless pits of his night-black eyes.

  Her hand longed to reach out and touch him, her lips to kiss his, to be engulfed in his strong embrace, and to once again know the delights of his love. Her face flamed at these thoughts and feelings as she realized how she was staring at him. She quickly lowered her head, but he had seen the look of love and passion written there, as had Powchutu. Gray Eagle’s confidence was increased twofold. He knew what he must do now ...

  He nodded to White Arrow who came forward carrying a lance. There were two feathers attached to one end, one yellow and the other, gray and red. He faced her and spoke directly into her eyes. “Shalee was mine first. By the right of law and custom, I call challenge to Mato Waditaka for her return. I call the right of her return or my death. I will not leave here without her at my side. The Great Spirit sent her to me, and I will not give her up without a fight. She has known only my touch and will know no other while I live and breathe. I say she is mine! Who says differently?” He forcefully jammed the lance into the ground before her. “Ki-ci-e-conape!”

  The silence was deafening ... she stared at the lance in the ground between him and her. Did he pass a death sentence on her or cast some evil spell?

  Brave Bear quickly snatched the lance from the ground and broke it over his knee. With a look of anticipation and arrogance on his face, he glared into the face of Wanmdi Hota, accepting his challenge for Alisha. Whispering and expectation filled the air.

  Black Cloud glared at the lance in shock and surprise. Wanmdi Hota wanted her this badly? Had he misjudged his feelings for his daughter? He could lose both his daughter and his son this very day. Was it pride or love ruling Wanmdi Hota’s actions? He spoke rapidly to both men as they faced each other in open antagonism. He gave them both the one and only chance to withdraw the challenge or refuse it. Neither man gave ground.

  “Powchutu, what is happening? Does he threaten me in some way? What does the lance mean?”

  “The lance is a challenge for you. Wanmdi Hota says you were his first and he claims the right to join with you. He says he will not leave here alive without you. He says the Great Spirit gave you to him and he will not let you go without a fight. He says that as long as he lives and breathes you will belong to only him. He says you are his and he will die before he gives you up. Then he asked who disputes his claim that you are his and he will join you. Mato Waditaka answered the challenge when he withdrew the lance from the ground and broke it over his knee. The chief gave them the one chance to withdraw the challenge and acceptance. They both kept silent. It will be a fight to the death of one of them, the winner will claim and join with you. It is the custom of their tribes when two great warriors desire the same woman. They are also both chief’s sons and you are a chief’s daughter. Maybe they will both die, then I will claim you!”

  She hardly heard his last words. “To the death of one of them?” she asked in distress and alarm.

  He lightly replied, “To the death ...”

  Chapter Six

  Perceiving the full meaning of this challenge, she grabbed up the two ends of the lance and screamed at both of them, “No! I will have no deaths on my hands, not even yours, Wanmdi Hota. Powchutu, tell my father I will not be a part of this. I will not be a trophy in a game of death.”

  Powchutu related her message to the chief. The chief looked at the frightened, distressed face of his daughter and replied, “Tell Shalee this is the law of our people. She is Si-ha Sapa and must obey our laws and ways. He is a chief’s son and has taken her first. He has the right of ki-ci-e-conape. She must join with the winner. I have spoken!”

  Her eyes flashed rebellion and anger at him as she said, “I will not be sold again! When the time comes, I will choose! I will not allow either of them to die. I cannot!”

  The Token-pi-i-ceyapi Itancan came forward to announce the challenge would take place in one hour. They were to go to separate teepees to prepare. Hearing his words, both men nodded and turned to go to their appointed teepees, to meet in one hour in a death struggle to possess her. She stared on helplessly. Was there nothing she could do? Was she a pawn in the hands of fate once more? Whose time had come to die? It angered her to know she was to be the weapon to take away a man’s life. Will I never have any say in my own life and fate? Will others always choose my paths for me?

  Crying bitterly, she turned and ran to a tree near the river bank. Such pain filled her heart and mind. Why did this revenge not taste sweet? Why did Wanmdi Hota’s possible death not make her feel happy and free? If he died today, would she always feel this emptiness and longing for him deep inside? How would she feel if she never saw him again, if she never touched him again, if she never kissed him again, and never belonged to him again? She thought she had come to terms with all these “nevers,” but she realized now she had not. For somewhere deep inside, she had felt she would one day be his again. She had not given up the hope or dream he would come to love her as she loved him. But if he died ... his forbidden love would haunt her forever.

  She would never be able to marry Mato Waditaka and love him if he killed Wanmdi Hota, no matter what they demanded she do. But if by some chance of fate Wanmdi Hota won, could she ever forgive the death of Mato Waditaka in order to win her back? Why was life so harsh and cruel out here? Why did it demand so much from her?

  She gazed out along the horizon into the sky of endless b
lue. Would she ever adjust to the people and land out here? She gazed at the dry, vast land in the distance and longed to see the rolling, green hills and dales of England. To feel the rainy mist instead of this arid climate for just one day would be pure bliss. To feel the fog and mist touching her skin lightly in the early spring morning, to smell the sweet fragrance of the grasses and flowers, to smell the hot-crossed buns sold by the street vendor, to ride through the park and stop for a picnic, to hear the cooing of the doves and pigeons, to hear music and laughter, these were the things she missed out here in this vast wilderness, alone ...

  Was it only yesterday at this time that her life had seemed to settle down? Was it only a few days since her suffering at the fort? Was it only a few months ago she had been an innocent girl searching for happiness and a new life with her uncle at their fortress? Such devastating and drastic changes had taken place in her life. Was it really done in such a short time? All these events seemed like only yesterday, and yet, they also seemed like eons ago. Her mind reeled with so many new and conflicting discoveries.

  Powchutu knew she needed to be alone to sort out some of these things in her mind. Too much had happened too quickly for her—captivity, rescue, recapture, and now this. How could one so young and innocent deal with all of this at once? I see and know why she thinks she cannot trust or believe anyone, he thought. The pain is great for her now, but in time ... ha! he scoffed. How many times had he thought time lessens pain? But did it? No! The pain was still fresh and bleeding in him from many years of suffering. No, time does not heal and bring happiness and forgetfulness. If she lived for a hundred more winters, she would never forget Wanmdi Hota or what he has done to heir.

  Unless ... if she were far away from here and him, then maybe she could forget. If she were to return to the land far across the giant waters she spoke of, then she could begin a new life without this hurt and pain. I must think on this further ...

  He walked down to the trees where she was standing, looking dreamily off into the far distance. How could she bear the sorrow which he read in her eyes? If only there was some way to help her or to lessen her torment.

  “Shalee?” he called softly to her.

  She turned to look at him. “Let the others call me that, Powchutu, but you, please call me Alisha. For you and you alone does she live and exist. I cannot bear to let her slip away, as if she had never lived. Alisha’s life has been filled with lies and deceit. Will Shalee’s life be any better for me? I cannot become this Shalee just because they say I am she. I do not feel or think as she would have. You are the only one here who knows or sees the real me. I am Alisha!” she cried in desperation. With these words, she trembled and wept.

  “Powchutu, yesterday I thought it was finally over, this Hell I have lived in for so long. I believed I was about to begin a new life here in this village. Why did he have to come back to tear my heart out again? Why can’t he leave me in peace? Now, one of them must die, and I cannot stand the thoughts of it being either one of them. I cannot think of what will come after that death.” He reached out to caress her cheek and wipe away a falling teardrop.

  “If only he had not beaten me, then Matu would never have seen that mark. If only he did not hate me so much, then this would not be happening. If only I had never agreed to come to this godforsaken land. If only I had not tried to help him at our fortress, maybe he would have killed me by now. If only my people had not hated him and treated him so cruelly, maybe he would not have destroyed our fortress and killed them. If only I had never seen or known him, then my heart would not be breaking now. If, if, if!” she cried out. “My thoughts and heart are filled with all these‘ifs.’ But the most painful if of all, Powchutu, is if only I did not love him ...” She began to weep at the agony of this reality. “What shall I do, Powchutu? There is no way out for me anymore. Help me!”

  His words and expressions at the challenge today haunted her and she could not decide what she believed anymore. She vividly recalled in detail everything that had happened and had been said between them since that morning bluff at the fort. She had been so wrong about many things. All the misgivings and suspicions cried to be released for they were untrue ...

  Her heart was a bloody battlefield between common sense and love. They fought bitterly and fiercely to overrule each other and dictate her actions and emotions. Desperate emotions surged throughout her ravaged heart until it cried out in surrender. She would have to accept what it commanded, for his love had invaded her heart and body and would not be conquered or pushed aside.

  Her heart skipped a beat when the sound of the can cega reached her ears. Its slow, rhythmic beat told her the time was nearing. She was consumed by this feeling of total panic and helplessness. Had the time come already? I must go to them at once. I must find a way to stop this farce. She ran toward the village and to the teepee where Brave Bear had gone. She did not call out for permission to enter. She threw back the flap and ran inside. He was sitting by a small fire, praying and chanting.

  She went to him and knelt before him as tears coursed down her cheeks. He stopped and gazed into the face of fear and beauty before him and touched her tears with his fingers.

  “Please don’t do this, Mato Waditaka,” she pleaded. “I cannot bear the thought of your death. You have been so kind to me. You have brought light and happiness into my life for the past few days. I will tell my father I demand to join with you and he will end this farce.”

  Powchutu had been right behind her and he now translated her words to him. He smiled into her luminous eyes and spoke, “It cannot be stopped now, Shalee. The challenge was given and accepted. We must do this thing and end this war among the three of us. This must be settled before our joining day. His claim on you must be torn away for all time.”

  She cried out, “But that claim can only be torn away with the death of one of you! I will join with him, then he will have no reason to kill you. I will tell my father to join me with him and save the life of his son.”

  When Powchutu related this to him, he shouted, “Never! You are mine. I will not give you up to him. I will kill him and you and I will be joined this very day!” he said angrily. Then softly added, “It pleases me that you would sacrifice yourself to him to save my life.”

  But Alisha knew it was to save both their lives. How could he expect her to celebrate their joining while others mourned the death of her true love? But of course, he did not know of her feelings for Wanmdi Hota. On the other hand, how could she go to Wanmdi Hota, if he should win, with the blood of this man on his hands? Such a deadly quandary ...

  Still, she persisted, “You cannot kill another man because of me. I am not to be traded about from one man to another like some animal who has no feelings or guilt. It is wrong.”

  Hearing the meaning of her words, he calmly replied, “I would be dishonored if I refused to fight for what is mine. He has challenged me and he must die or kill me. I will not allow you to go to him while I live. You must learn the ways and laws of your people and accept them as I do.”

  Powchutu translated his words. She screamed in anger, “Dishonored! What is dishonor to death? I have been shamed and dishonored and yet I live and accept it. I have known great humiliation but I do not beg for death. Can you do no less for me?”

  He studied her anguished face for a time then said, “You are not a man and a warrior. You do not yet feel and think as a Si-ha Sapa, Shalee. A warrior cannot live in shame and disgrace. His people would not follow a coward, a man who broke his word and retracted his challenge. This, I cannot do for you or myself. Do not ask this of me. I would not be a man if I did not fight for you. If I refused, you would be sent to him and I would be less than a woman in the eyes of my people and the other warriors. This is the only way to save both of us.”

  She saw that nothing she could say would change his decision. His laws and customs were too deeply ingrained in him. He viewed this as something he must do and he would never turn back now. Her pleading only brought
hurt to him for he could not listen or hear it. She could not expect him to do otherwise. He was Mato Waditaka, Si-ha Sapa, warrior and future chief.

  Seeing she was powerless to do more, she reached out and tenderly touched his cheek and whispered, “I do not fully understand what you say, but I will accept the fact this is something you must do for yourself and your people. I will pray to the gods to protect you and spare your life, for you are truly a man above others and your death would be a terrible loss.”

  As Powchutu related her words to him, happiness flickered in his eyes and he smiled at her. He removed his wanapin and placed it around her neck. He kissed her lightly on her lips and said, “Always remember, Shalee, there is honor even in death.”

  Comprehending the meaning of his words, she gazed into those proud, dauntless features and smiled. She stood up and departed without looking back. She stood outside his teepee for a time, thinking on his last words. She listened to the low chanting as it began inside once more and grieved for what might come. Powchutu told her they must leave him to prepare for what was to be. They slowly walked away.,

  Powchutu asked, “Shalee, will you also go to Wanmdi Hota? If he is the one to die this day, then he will be forever spared your last words to him.” He saw the anxiety flash across her face and the doubt settle in her eyes.

  She quietly replied, “He would not listen either, Powchutu. He issued this challenge, therefore he is also willing to die for this honor they speak of. How he must hate me if he wants me back under his power at the cost of a life, possibly his own. Why must it be this way, my friend? Is there no other way this matter can be settled without bloodshed?”

  She did not know they were standing before Gray Eagle’s teepee while they spoke and that he heard her words. Powchutu knew he was giving her the opportunity to do what she really wanted but feared to do. He was also hoping she would refuse and Gray Eagle would hear her.