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Stolen Ecstasy

Page 37

by Janelle Taylor


  Shalee lowered her head. Mind-Who-Roams laid his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly, declaring, “I say the words of Shalee are true and wise. I say this matter is for Grandfather to settle. The white girl is no threat to the Oglala. Bright Arrow’s life and destiny are here with his people and his family. I say he returns.” The medicine chief had firmly given his vote and opinion. “I say Bright Arrow rides at Gray Eagle’s side until Sun Cloud becomes chief. In my dreams, I have seen these three warriors standing side by side and defending our camp. If it does not come to pass, the Oglala will be destroyed.”

  One warrior asked, “If we allow this white to enter our camp, others will try to enter. What of the white blood in his daughters?”

  Shalee looked up and replied wearily, “Other whites cannot enter if you refuse them. The law against whites did not exist when Bright Arrow took her. His girls will join with Oglala braves; their children will join with Oglala. With each Oglala mating, the white blood will weaken until it is gone. I chose the Oglala over the whites. So will Rebecca if you allow it. Am I not Oglala in heart and mind and existence? It will be the same for Rebecca; I swear it on my life and honor. Do not deny my son his rightful destiny.”

  Plenty Coups inquired, “What if he does not escape the Crow camp alive? Do you ask us to accept his white woman and his children?”

  “If he does not live, there is no need for a vote. Will you reject children of Gray Eagle’s blood who are alone and helpless? Is it not true that children belong to the father’s people? Rebecca could not care for them or protect them. She would give them to me,” Shalee stated confidently, tormented by the possibility.

  Cloud Chaser arose and suggested cleverly, “I say the vote belongs to Grandfather. If Bright Arrow escapes with Sun Cloud and returns to our camp, I say it is the sign for our brother’s forgiveness and acceptance. I say we must agree with that sign. When we hear his words and deeds, we can vote on his woman.” He sat down.

  Flaming Star concurred. “I say Cloud Chaser speaks wisely. Grandfather must decide Bright Arrow’s destiny.” He had no doubt that his friend would succeed in his mission and return. The young warrior went on to reveal what he knew about Rebecca, remaining silent about his suspicions concerning Cloud Chaser. He vowed to watch the devious man carefully and closely, for he sensed something evil in him.

  Standing Rock, Kajihah’s father, stood up and scoffed, “I say the white girl is evil. She stole the eye of Windrider from my daughter. She casts her evil magic over a Cheyenne warrior, just as she did over Bright Arrow. I say she must not be allowed to enter our camp with her evil magic and potent spells. A great sickness and death came over the Cheyenne camp. Many say the two white women caused it.”

  Flaming Star jumped to his feet. “This is not so, Standing Rock. Your child fills your ears with lies. Windrider has chosen another woman, but it is not Rebecca. Rebecca loves and waits for Bright Arrow in the camp of the Yankton. The two white women knew the healing medicines. They helped the Cheyenne. If you do not believe this, go and ask the Cheyenne. They sing praises for the help of the white women. There is only friendship between Windrider and Rebecca. Did they not tell you of the evil of your child?” he asked, having heard the story from Rebecca as they had traveled downriver. When the man remained huffy and antagonistic, Flaming Star exposed Kajihah’s character and actions. Before the older warrior could debate them, Flaming Star craftily declared, “Ask any Cheyenne if these words are not true. You have been misguided, my friend.”

  The man grumbled but sat down. Walking Buffalo shifted on his sitting mat. Mind-Who-Roams looked at him and coaxed, “Speak your mind, Tatankamani.”

  “When the white girl lived in our camp many winters ago, she was kind to me. My wife was sick; my children were small. Rebecca gathered wood and water each day. She brought us food. I did not speak out for her because too many were against her. It was wrong.”

  White Arrow, best friend to Gray Eagle since their youth and adopted father to Bright Arrow, spoke up, revealing, “It was this way for many. She has a good heart and kind spirit. I know of her great love for my other son. I was with her when she went to the fort to free him. She knew it might cost her her life; she did not care. She is the daughter of our old friend, Joe Kenny. He is one white we did not reject. Must we do this to his child? They have suffered too much. I wish my other son home.”

  Flaming Star looked at his father and smiled. White Arrow returned it, then paused to reflect on the past. White Arrow had been with Gray Eagle the day he had captured Alisha Williams. He had been at Gray Eagle’s side during their times of joy and pains, watching their love increase with each new season. He had witnessed the day Bright Arrow had walked a similar path when he had captured Rebecca. Gray Eagle and Shalee had proven that skin colors did not prevent love and peace, that only the interference of others could cause anguish and trouble. He had watched Bright Arrow grow to be a man and become a great warrior. Such a loss to the tribe was intolerable. It was past time for the seeds of fury to be buried in the fertile earth to sprout into happiness and serenity.

  During the pensive silence, Shalee pushed herself to her feet. She told the men, “I only ask for you to think and pray over this matter. You need not vote this sun. Search your hearts and minds for the truth, for mercy, for understanding and kindness. When my sons return to camp, the council can meet and vote,” she suggested wisely, realizing that with so many men already in her favor, more time for them to think would be to Bright Arrow’s advantage. Shalee thanked them for listening, then left.

  After the council meeting, Cloud Chaser slipped from camp, unnoticed by all but Flaming Star. The younger warrior followed the stealthy Cloud Chaser until he was certain he was heading away from the direction in which Bright Arrow and Sun Cloud would appear. Evidently the man wanted to see someone or do something in private. Deciding the devious warrior was no threat to his two friends, he returned to camp to speak with Shalee. He would suggest that he head after Rebecca and the children, to have them nearby when Bright Arrow arrived. He felt that this trying matter should be settled promptly. As soon as the sickness left the Cheyenne camp, he needed to see Windrider again; his visit three days before had left him bewildered.

  Far away, many things were happening. The tragic smallpox attack in the Cheyenne camp was nearly over. In all, three hundred and eleven of a little over seven hundred members of the Cheyenne camp had died. Of the two hundred tepees, all had experienced at least one fatality. Of just over three hundred warriors, only one hundred and eighty-nine had survived. Many of the fatalities had been children, elderly members, and women. But with Bonnie’s warnings and guidance, the disease had not spread beyond their village.

  Windrider was healing quickly and painlessly beneath Bonnie’s glowing eyes and loving attention. It was decided they would join as soon as Windrider was totally well and on his feet again. Each night chants were sung in Bonnie’s and Rebecca’s names for their help and persistence. All felt that Bonnie was the answer to Windrider’s vision, and she was accepted into his life and camp. In a few more days, he would no longer be infectious. He could help his people begin what they were calling a new life. Love and passion bloomed brightly and boldly between the Cheyenne warrior and his white captive. Yet there was one matter that troubled the man deeply…

  Farther away, Bright Arrow and Sun Cloud were traveling a roundabout trail, which required more time and energy but was safer. The warrior knew that the Crow would head straight toward the Oglala camp the moment they discovered his deception and the bodies of their three warriors. They would think that the white trader, whoever he was, would gallop fast and furiously for the Sioux village, which lay southeast of their camp. His plan was to outsmart his foes by concealing his tracks and riding in a southwesterly direction until they reached the northwest border of the Black Hills. They would weave through the sacred mountains and come out near the Cheyenne River, just below Windrider’s camp. From there, Bright Arrow would sneak home
with his brother, gingerly avoiding any Crow or Pawnee raiding parties or advance scouts.

  Around dusk, Bright Arrow located a cave that he had visited many times in the past when his tribe had camped not far away during the winter. As a child, he had explored its deep, dark passages. He had been unaffected by the scary tales of ghostly spirits roaming the insides of this black hole. As he grew older, it had’been a secret place to come and think. Allowing his stolen horse to water and graze, he and his brother hurriedly gathered plenty of wood for warmth and light. Then Bright Arrow led Sun Cloud and the trusty steed into the dark passage, where he built a small fire over which to roast a rabbit he had slain while collecting wood. As they waited for the fire to blaze, he tossed Sun Cloud a blanket to wrap around his body.

  As the meal was cooking the boy asked, “Why did you dress as a white trader? Why did you scalp your hair?”

  Bright Arrow laughed heartily. “To save my little brother from the hungry foes. They did not know me. It was a good trick. Hair will grow again; Sun Cloud cannot be replaced.”

  “My mother told me many stories about you. Why do you live with the whites? Why do you never come to visit us? Why do our people refuse to speak your name or chant your coups?” he asked eagerly.

  As simply as possible, Bright Arrow truthfully explained the situation. When his little brother pressed for more answers, Bright Arrow revealed many things about himself and his past and present life. The boy was astounded by such facts and feats. “Will you bring Little Feet and Tashina to visit me? I will call them sister and protect them when you are gone,” he offered, love and pride shining in his eyes.

  When Bright Arrow agreed to fulfill his wishes, Sun Cloud asked inquisitively, “Will you come to live with us? Why did you join a white woman?”

  Chuckling deeply, Bright Arrow tried to explain love and commitment. He told Sun Cloud all about Rebecca. He said his return home depended on the council’s vote and their acceptance of Rebecca. Sun Cloud puffed out his chest and declared, “I will force them to obey. I will be chief when father dies. No one will defy my words. It is silly to fear a white girl. You are a great warrior, son of Gray Eagle and brother to Sun Cloud. You are brave and cunning. I will help you.”

  Bright Arrow watched his brother’s expressions and listened closely to his words. For one so young, he knew many things, Bright Arrow mused. He would make a good chief for their people, and Gray Eagle was training and preparing him well. He was smart, quick-witted, alert, and brave.

  Bright Arrow pleased him when he asked Sun Cloud to relate the news and events since his departure years ago. They talked far into the night, then slept for a few hours. Before dawn, they were up and gone from the cave. In three to five moons, they would be home.

  The next day, Flaming Star and two braves began their journey to fetch Rebecca, Silent Thunder, and the two girls. They would follow the same plan as before, returning to the Oglala camp in twelve days.

  Flaming Star was glad he had gone to see Windrider after returning from the trip to Yankton. After Rebecca’s strange and shocking disclosure, he had needed to question Windrider about Cloud Chaser’s alleged ride to the Oglala camp and the mysterious council meeting that was supposed to have taken place. Windrider had been visibly astonished to learn there had been no such meeting, that no one had known about her quest or Bright Arrow’s arrival nearby. An inexplicable expression had crossed Windrider’s face, but because Flaming Star had stood at a required distance from the contagious Cheyenne warrior, Flaming Star had been unable to read it or understand it. Later he had wondered if it could have been a look of anger at a betrayal that Windrider had rapidly mastered and concealed.

  It didn’t make any sense to the Sioux warrior. He wondered what Cloud Chaser and Windrider had in common, other than Bright Arrow. He was already underway before he realized that Cloud Chaser had been heading toward Windrider’s camp yesterday. He asked himself why Cloud Chaser would rush off to see Windrider after a council meeting about Bright Arrow and Rebecca. He pondered the Sioux warrior’s motives for lying to Rebecca and Windrider and wondered why Windrider would have brought Rebecca to the Oglala camp secretly. Because Windrider’s tale had matched hers, Flaming Star knew Cloud Chaser had to be lying, plotting. Yet he had spoken in favor of Bright Arrow’s return. This strange matter would bear a closer look when he returned, he decided, unaware that his curiosity would forever remain unsated.

  Cloud Chaser silently crept to Windrider’s side as he sat on the riverbank trying to find ways to regain his strength and vitality. He was unaccustomed to a lazy life, and his mind whirled with distracting plans. The Cheyenne warrior jumped in surprise when a hand touched his shoulder; it was nearly impossible for anything or anyone to sneak up on him! He was stunned to • find Cloud Chaser squatting there. How dare this traitorous, guileful foe calmly and boldly visit him! Fury surged through him, removing thoughts of everything but justified vengeance. The possibility that he had contaminated Cloud Chaser never entered his warring mind.

  Cloud Chaser appeared worried. He knew his plot would soon be uncovered, and he would be dishonored, shamed. He tried to think of a way to save himself, realizing now that the plot had been foolish and rash. He would offer Windrider a bargain—silence for silence. As these thoughts rushed through his mind, he was completely unaware of Windrider’s anger or contagion.

  “Why do you come, Cloud Chaser?” Windrider asked frostily, laying aside his hunting knife and whetstone to stare intensely at the Sioux warrior.

  “We must strike a bargain, Windrider. We must tell no one of our game to separate Bright Arrow and Rebecca. When he returns—if he does—they will take another vote. They are speaking of accepting his woman. It will cause trouble if they learn of our past trick to lure her from his side. Bright Arrow will be angry if he learns you tried to steal his woman while you played his friend and helper.”

  “I am his friend and helper. What trick and game do you speak of, Cloud Chaser. I did not lure Rebecca from his side. They are still mates. I have chosen another woman. Rebecca is my friend; I am her friend. There is no love or passion between us. She knows of my past desire for her. She has forgiven me. Why do you worry?” he asked innocently, placing the sharp knife in its sheath at his waist. “Come, let us walk in the forest and speak privately.”

  When they were hidden from all eyes and ears, Windrider asked, “Why did you lie to me, Cloud Chaser? You did not go to the camp and speak for her. Do you fear they will learn of your deceit?”

  “Who told you such things?” he snarled guiltily.

  “Flaming Star,” the Cheyenne warrior replied.

  “You told him of our game! You asked him about my meeting with the council? You are a fool, Windrider!” he thundered in alarm.

  “You had no meeting with the Oglala council. Flaming Star learned of your deceit from Rebecca. He came to question me. I told him the truth. I told him you claimed you met with the council and they rejected her. He said there was no such meeting or vote. Why did you not tell me you were lying to her?” he demanded icily.

  “You were a coward, Windrider. Your eyes and loins were captured by her. I said what you wished her to hear. You desired her. If you do not join me in this bargain, I will tell Bright Arrow and others of the nights you slept on her mat and the days you sneaked into the forest to roll on the earth in passion,” he threatened venomously.

  “You lie! I have not touched her!” Windrider shouted at him.

  “I saw you kiss and hold each other in the forest. I saw you go to the river together on the trail. I saw you in camp while you awaited my return. Do not tell me you have never touched or desired her! You lie!” the malevolent warrior countered.

  Windrider could not deny that he had kissed her, held her, enticed her, and desired her. But that was over. They had never yielded to wild passion. Each loved another. It had been a mistake, a brief moment when hunger and suffering had weakened and controlled them, a short time when loneliness and vulnerability ha
d drawn them together, a tempting moon when touching and comforting had been needed by both. It had not been wrong or evil. He could not allow Cloud Chaser to make it appear that way.

  Windrider suddenly comprehended another reality— what if he had infected this vicious male while they verbally battled? Cloud Chaser’s unseen appearance at his side had given him no time for warning, and now there were other lives to consider. “You cannot return to your camp. I carry the death sickness. You have touched me and come near me. Now you carry it. You must remain here or you will carry it to your tribe. When you are well, we will go to see your people. We will confess our evil trick. We will beg for forgiveness and mercy.”

  “No,” Cloud Chaser sneered. “If you speak against me, I will blacken the names of Windrider and Rebecca. When they question you, the guilt will show on your faces. This ugly secret will destroy your loves. I will say you lie about the meeting. I will say you lie about me. Kajihah will say I speak the truth. Sucoora and the white captive will prove my claims. All know of your lust for Rebecca. Why do you think Bright Arrow did not leave her here within your reach?” he taunted.

  “You are evil, Cloud Chaser. I will not let you hurt others.”

  “If you try to stop me, I will slay all you love,” the man warned. “Hold your tongue, Windrider, or your loved ones will feel my blade.”

  Cloud Chaser turned and walked away. Windrider called out for him to halt. He again warned of the danger of the disease, but Cloud Chaser laughed coldly and kept walking. Windrider drew the knife from his sheath and held it securely by the blade tip. He brought his arm over his shoulder, then jerked it forward, expertly releasing the knife. There was a dull thud as it entered the retreating man’s back. Cloud Chaser pitched forward, dead when he struck the ground.

 

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