Defiant Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  She finally looked up at him and answered, “Yes, I will go to him, but not to beg for the life of Mato Waditaka. I will not give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply his death would hurt me. I must see him once more, perhaps for the last time alive ...”

  He turned and lifted the flap of the teepee directly behind them and pulled her inside. Gray Eagle turned and she called his name. Their eyes met and locked.

  “Wanmdi Hota ...” shefalteredandstopped. Turning to Powchutu, she said, “No, Powchutu, it was a mistake to come here. There is too much hatred and mistrust between us. He would not believe I do not wish his death, nor Mato Waditaka’s. One of them must die this day for this honor I do not understand. The pain it will bring will live on in my heart and life forever. If you had known and told me of his intentions, I would have begged my father to allow me to marry him before things went this far. What could he possibly do to me that he has not already done many times before? How he must hate me to do this terrible thing. It has passed the time for words between us now. They would change nothing. He does not fear death for it is a part of his daily life.” She turned to leave, but was halted by White Arrow’s hold on her.

  She looked up into his face and returned his smile. “We have not been able to speak the words in our hearts before, Powchutu. Will you thank him for all the help and kindness he has shown to me in the past? Many times I have felt. his understanding and attempts to help me. Tell him I am grateful and happy to have known him as a friend.”

  Powchutu related her words to him and he beamed at her. “Tell Shalee it is I who am happy and thankful at knowing her. Tell her I have never wanted to hurt her in any way She will always be my koda.”

  She gave him a brilliant smile, knowing he referred to the teepee sa incident. “Thank him for telling me this. It lessens the pain and hurt I felt at his actions. Tell him I did not think he would hurt me even if he was commanded to do so. We shared many happy times and sad times.” Gray Eagle flinched at her stinging words. She continued, “Forever kodas, Wanhinkpe Ska,” and kissed him on his cheek.

  Once more she turned to depart, but this time, Gray Eagle blocked her path. She tried to go around him, but found herself locked in a grip of iron, secure, but painless.

  She gazed up at him in helplessness. Her breathing quickened and she trembled at his smell and closeness. She placed her open palms against his hard, muscular chest and tried to push away from him.

  She frantically spoke, “Let me pass, Wanmdi Hota. There is nothing I can say to you. You would only laugh at my pleas as you always did. I can do nothing to melt that heart of ice, so I will not even try.”

  He continued to study her closely as if he sought to memorize her face for a last time—and perhaps he did! She hesitantly asked Powchutu, “Will you ask him one thing for me, Powchutu? Will you ask him why he hates me so much and why he has never allowed himself to ...” She abruptly halted and changed her mind. “No, for I could not bear to know. The ‘why’ does not really matter. If only he would have let himself love me just a little. If only he had not hated me so much it would have been enough for me. Ask him nothing and tell him nothing, for in his heart he knows and sees all things, even though he chooses to reject and hate me.”

  She looked deep into his jet eyes and softly whispered, “I pray you do not die this day, for then I would never be free of you. For illusions of what might have been would haunt me forever. With you alive, I will be reminded every day that I have loved you in vain. I could not bear to see you lying dead in your blood and know you are lost to me forever. Why, Wanmdi Hota? Why couldn’t you love me just one bit? I could have loved enough for both of us if your hatred had not hardened your heart to me and locked your mind against ever accepting me. I would give anything, even my life, if I had first met and known you as Shalee.”

  Tears blurred her vision as she struggled to break free and leave this place of torment and him. She pleaded, “Shalee ya. Wanmdi Hota! Please ...”

  The anguish in her eyes and voice ripped at his own heart, but his face and eyes remained blank and void of the intense emotions churning inside him. “Don’t you see, it does not matter now?” She cried out at him, “It has gone forever, as yesterday. There is no time or place for our love. I see this now. I will never torture my heart with the hope that someday you might come to love and accept me. It is time I accept the fact you never have and never will love me. Had I but realized this the very first day I met you! My one remaining joy is the knowledge you did not sell me. I shall have that along with the bittersweet memories of other days. Powchutu, please make him let me go! I must get out of here! I can take no more today ...”

  Gray Eagle’s eyes stopped him cold in his tracks. His eyes fell to the wanapin of Brave Bear around her neck. He told Powchutu, “Tell her what it means to wear his wanapin during the challenge.”

  He carefully observed the effect of the explanation on her. “Alisha, to wear Mato Waditaka’s wanapin to the challenge shows you choose him to be the winner. This is the way you tell everyone present you love and choose him and hope he wins. This is also supposed to discourage the man you do not want and give encouragement to your love. It is believed this show of preference instills more daring and bravery in your lover’s heart, and hesitation and doubt in the heart of his challenger.”

  She lifted the wanapin and lightly fingered it, , pondering her indecision. How could she hurt and discourage Brave Bear by removing it? It would surely embarrass him before his people and might cause a slight loss of concentration which would cost his life. She must do this in payment for the past few days of happiness and freedom. She owed him this much. It would make no difference in the emotions and bravery of Gray Eagle if she removed it, so she did not.

  Perhaps it might aggravate and spite Wanmdi Hota for all the anguish he had put her through, but it could not possibly harm or discourage him. If Mato Waditaka dies, then he will die thinking I chose him. If he lives, then it will be best if he thinks I prefer him. It would be foolish to reveal her love for Wanmdi Hota to the others.

  Her hesitation alarmed Gray Eagle. She settled the bear’s head against her heart as she told Powchutu why she would not remove it. As Powchutu translated, he seethed inside. How it galled him to be used against her by Gray Eagle. He would pay dearly ...

  Gray Eagle released the grip of one of his hands and removed his white eagle. He held it out to her in askance. She glared at the wanapin in torment and asked, “Does he demand for me to show my choice of him instead? Surely he doesn’t ask me to let everyone think I love and choose him? No, he only seeks to antagonize and anger Mato Waditaka, or inflame him against me. Wanmdi Hota needs no encouragement from his ex-slave to aid his bravery and daring, for there is no man braver or more daring than he.”

  This had been a gift to her the day they had returned from the fort to his camp. She recalled the happiness the gift had brought to her and her two days of love with him. She recalled her reasons for removing it and leaving it behind that day. She called to mind the vivid details of where the rattler rings had come from and what had followed that incident. It had not been a gift of love, but a symbol to denote his ownership of her and to warn her against the futility of escape.

  Pain filled her heart and eyes at the memories the white eagle brought to mind. Tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks despite all her efforts to control them.

  “I ... I cannot take it! It meant too much, and yet, nothing. I gave too much of my heart and self those two days. I cannot take it, even to prevent his rage later.”

  Again, she tried to pull free and get out of this torture chamber. She begged Powchutu to help her. White Arrow placed his knife to Powchutu’s stomach and said in warning, “This is between them. Let it be. He will not harm her.”

  Powchutu retorted, “His words and closeness cut deeper and crueler than any knife could. He does harm her. Let her go, Wanmdi Hota. It is over!”

  Gray Eagle glared at the scout. “Tell her I will never hu
rt her again. She will forever belong to me and love only me. The eagle is hers, and she is mine.” He placed the wanapin around her neck as before, covering the bear’s head.

  She struggled and cried out to him, “Please do not force me to wear it!”

  He took her left hand in his and raised it before her vision as he told Powchutu what to say, “Tell her she is mine and has been since the day I put these marks on her hand. This akito holds more power than the other one, for she willingly accepted it. I will allow no man to take her from me, not the soldiers, or kodas, or Mato Waditaka, not while I live and breathe.”

  She stared at him in disbelief and confusion as her friend related Gray Eagle’s words to her. How Powchutu wished to lie, to tell her Gray Eagle despised her—but Powchutu was a man of honor.

  “He does not know how truthfully he speaks, Powchutu. For I have loved him and belonged to him since that first day, no, from the first moment, I saw him. I loved him even when he did terrible things to me. But I always deluded myself by believing his hatred would one day vanish. But it did not. He is wrong, for he may have no choice in losing me or his life, for he might do both this very day.”

  She gazed deep into his smoky eyes which told her nothing and whispered, “My heart will forever belong to only you. I am a fool, Wanmdi Hota, for I love you more than my own life. If you have not guessed this already, you will never know or feel it again. For as long as I live and breathe, I shall try in every way to kill it.”

  This statement pleased Powchutu and he struck out for more. “What will you do, Alisha, if he dies this day?” he asked, hoping to remind him she would join Mato Waditaka and go to his mats this very night.

  Alisha lowered anguish-filled eyes and missed the cold, dark anger which leaped into Gray Eagle’s at Powchutu’s words.

  “I cannot bear the thought of his death. How could I go to Mato Waditaka with Wanmdi Hota’s blood upon his hands? And yet, I would have no choice. I cannot hold Mato Waditaka responsible for what will happen. Doesn’t he realize if he kills Wanmdi Hota his ghost would forever be between us and I could never love or forgive him? I thought for a time I could forget my love in another’s arms and life, but I did not and cannot. I know this now. I cannot think upon what I will do if he dies. I’m not even sure of what I will do or feel if he wins and takes me back with him. Only time can answer these questions for me.”

  Everything was crashing in on Alisha at one time—her past, her cloudy future, her love for Gray Eagle, and her confusion at his present words. Everything coalesced and nothing made sense. She was suspended in a vacuum, tensely awaiting the outcome of this day which ruled her entire future. God give me the strength and courage to accept and face what this day will bring, she prayed.

  Gray Eagle lifted her trembling chin with his hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. He held it firmly in a secure grip as he lowered his head and kissed her passionately, but tenderly. Unable to free herself, she was soon lost to the heat and temptation of his kiss and embrace. Her mind struggled for resistance, but soon admitted defeat to his lips and her hunger.

  Her arms went up to encircle his neck and she pressed closer to him. She returned his kiss with a fiery response. The kiss became more demanding and passionate and she had no will or desire to pull away.

  Powchutu shifted restlessly at the scene before him. Jealousy and anger flickered and grew in his eyes and heart. He would kill Gray Eagle someday for this! How dare he use her love for him as a weapon against her! Soon, he raged, he will have no power over her for I shall kill him if Mato Waditaka does not. You are wrong, Wanmdi Hota, for she will be mine ...

  Alisha hungered for each kiss he gave her, knowing it could be the last one forever. But her body yearned for more than his kiss. There was an ache growing in her which she desperately wanted to satisfy. What if this was the last time he would ever hold and kiss her? Terrified at this thought, she clung even tighter to him.

  He knew she begged for more than just his touch. All doubts about her total love and desire for him alone vanished. This was what he had to know for sure before he took the life of Mato Waditaka or gave up his own. He, too, wished there had been some other way to get her back. He did not like having to take the life of one such as he.

  The beat of the kettle drum changed, telling all the time was near. He removed his lips from hers, silently cursing the lack of time. He held her tightly in his arms to allow both their passions to cool and her trembling to stop. He could not seem to bear to let her go, perhaps forever. He wanted to pick her up and run to his horse and flee with her, but it was not that simple. If he ran he would never be able to return to his people. He desperately thought, I know of no other way to have you back at my side, my love, my Cinstinna. I hope you will someday know and understand this no matter what happens this day.

  How he had missed her these past days. It felt good just to hold and kiss her again, to see her face, to feel her response to him, and to know she still loved only him. If the Great Spirit is willing and my life is spared, you will soon know the truth, from me. He leaned back and drank in her features one last time.

  She felt he was scanning her every thought. She silently mouthed the words, “I love you ...” He wondered if this would be his last chance to tell her he also loved her and always had. Would this be his last chance to beg her forgiveness and understanding for his treatment to her? Would this be his last chance to tell her everything within his heart and mind? Would he die this day and leave her here as another’s winyan? Would he die without her ever knowing how much he loved her and why he was doing this? Would he never see the look on her face when he said those words of love to her? Agony cut a savage path throughout his body, leaving nothing in its way untouched.

  I love you too much to tell you these things now, Cinstinna, he thought. If I am killed this day, the pain of forgetting me will be far greater. It will be easier to forget your enemy than your love. She would not have the time to know if I spoke the truth and would be in torment for a long time. She would think it to be a last, cruel taunt. It would be far too cruel for her to know of my love just before my death. I will remain silent until you are mine. If it is to be, I will carry your love to my death.

  She spoke one last time, “May your god and mine watch over you, my love, and keep you safe.”

  Powchutu looked on in pain and fury. White Arrow returned his knife to its sheath and nodded for them to leave. Powchutu took her arm and led her outside, her eyes remaining locked to Gray Eagle’s until the last moment.

  Outside, she asked Powchutu in anguish, “Is there nothing we can do?”

  He shook his head and answered, “It is too late. They are both committed. You love him greatly, do you not? I had thought at the fort I read this in your eyes even before you spoke of him. Come, we will wait in your father’s teepee until it is time.”

  In her father’s teepee, Alisha entreated, she begged, she pleaded, she cried, she threatened, and she argued for Black Cloud to stop this challenge. He would not listen to any of her words.

  “As Shalee, I beg you to intervene. They are both great warriors. They are deeply loved and needed by their tribes. A death of either one would be a tragic waste. Could you not settle this with some contest or fight?”

  He looked at her, studying her reasons and answered, “You are Si-ha Sapa. You must accept our laws and ways. It cannot be changed or stopped. They know and accept this, as you must, my daughter.”

  “But,” she cried, “must one of them die for this honor?”

  He sorrowfully shook his head. “It must be. Unless, at the point of victory the winner grants life.” He grieved at the thought of the death of his son or the death of the son of his koda. He missed the light which sparkled in his daughter’s eyes at his last words.

  There was a way to prevent a death! But would either of them do this? Was their hatred and anger to each other more important than sparing the life of a rival? If she could intervene at the right moment and plead with the winner, w
ould he show mercy? Would the right moment even be granted to her? She prayed, I must hope it will, for no one must die ... no one ...

  She paced around the teepee nervously until the drumming stopped. Once more the silence was deafening to her panicked heart. Expectation filled the air outside. The area was charged with excitement.

  They walked outside and over to the large campfire. She was placed between her father and Powchutu as the two warriors left their appointed teepees and came forward.

  Such fierce pride and arrogance, she thought as she watched them come forward. Each of the two men was a pinnacle of virility and handsomeness. If her heart did not already belong to Gray Eagle, it would have been impossible to choose between them. They approached each other fearlessly and proud, eyes locked in nonverbal combat. They faced each other and took a spread-legged stance. If either man felt the slightest iota of fear, doubt or misgiving, it did not show.

  They were dressed in breechcloths and low-cut moccasins, nothing more. They both had three stripes painted across their noses, cheeks, foreheads and chests. Gray Eagle’s was in yellow and Brave Bear’s in red. There was a narrow, rawhide thong tied about the upper arm of each man.

  To Alisha, they looked like two fierce war gods, come to do battle for the world itself. Their bodies spoke of valor, strength, courage, agility, power and self-confidence. It was evident to all they were evenly matched and either man could win. It would only depend on who made the first mistake.

  They both possessed the strength and skill to be the winner. There was no fear in either man’s eyes. They looked as if they dared death to strike them down. Their eyes challenged one another to prove who was the better man. Was either of them capable of showing mercy to the other? She was afraid to answer after seeing the looks which passed between them. Then, too, she knew Gray Eagle and his love of vengeance.