Part 8 (1/2)

Could it be his kindriess was only a taunt within itself? He withheld his wrath and punishment as long as she was subservient. She remembered how brutaly he had taken her after her open defiance of him at Ben's death. She had never seen him so angry. She trembled just recaling it. She knew she had seen the look of death in his eyes that day. She knew he had forced himself to overcome his temptation to do so; but she did not know why. Poor Ben, what did you have to tel me that was so important it cost you your life? You said, ”The brave can...” Can what? Can kil me? Can punish me or ravish me? I already know those things. What did you feel was so urgent I learn?

Would it make any difference to him if I could learn to accept this life of thraldom? Would total submission to him change anything? Does he prefer for me to remain his enemy or accept him and his dominance? I think he loves to be a ruthless tyrant, making me cower before him in awe and fear, showing off his power and superiority over me and my people.

If only I had the courage to remain aloof and resistant to him and his threats. But how long could I hold him at bay, mentaly or physicaly? I can't go through with those tortures like the others did, or be sent to that teepee like Kathy...

If I pushed him too far or too hard, he would surely do one or the other to me. Would he kil me if I blatantly refused to be his harlot and servant? I can't risk testing him, even though I despise living like this at his beck and cal. I dare not defy him. And yet, I dare not leave my heart open to him. He would rip it from my soul and devour it like some demon.

Don't let a little kindness and a brief reprieve erase his deeds, Don't let a little kindness and a brief reprieve erase his deeds, she warned herself. You must keep your guard up and never trust him or his motives. To trust or love a man like that would only bring anguish and then death. The only place he can have in my life is as my master and protector, for now. Later, none...

In al her anxiety, she never thought to question why he chose that very moment to kil Ben; nor how he knew what Ben was saying to her. Had she thought more on the scene and words, she would have grasped the deadly truth-he heard and knew exactly what Ben was saying and wanted to silence him forever. Far worse, she would have realized the ful extent of her predicament-he knew and heard al her words to and about him. She pushed the painful scene far back into her mind and tried to forget it. She wondered, is Kathy the only other prisoner left? Were the other women dead or sold to other tribes? How could Kathy hate me so much? I can't bear to think of the terrible abuse and suffering they must have endured in that teepee. For her to see me clean and free with the very man responsible for it al must have angered her. Can I realy blame her for her feelings, no matter how wrong she is?

If only she knew the truth! At least, she doesn't have to live with the guilt that she might be responsible for al the deaths and sufferings. I guess I should be grateful to him for taking me and keeping me here with him. I couldn't endure being a harlot for his tribe as she is. I'd die if he ever took me there. I'd just die...

Tears filed her eyes and began to rol down her cheeks as she recaled the arduous trek to this land of death for men and their dreams. They had begun the trip with great antic.i.p.ation and high spirits. They had moved slowly and seemingly endlessly at times. Living in a covered wagon for a year had proven to be a hards.h.i.+p for many. To others, it had been exciting, stimulating, educational for many. To others, it had been exciting, stimulating, educational and strengthening. She recaled al she had learned, seen and done. At times, the going had been hard, but there was always someone or something there to inspire them to press on. There had been many complaints, heartaches and problems along the way, but they had overcome them al. There had been good and happy times, too.

She reflected on the ones who had given up along the way and returned to the colonies, or settled where they were at that time. Others remained at the nearest settlement to where they had lost the strength to go on. She remembered the many graves left along the trails from sickness, accidents or just loss of the wil to live and push on and on.

She thought of al the things they had so carefuly carried for such a long way, now lying burned and ruined at the fortress. Al of their hard work had gone up in smoke and ashes. Al because of one man...

The blurred details of their trip slowly returned to her. Most of their days had been spent traveling or doing ch.o.r.es, and their nights in exhausted slumber. There had been little time to socialize with the other settlers, for there had never seemed to be enough time to complete their ch.o.r.es.

They would travel until the last streaks of light were gone and be up again at the first light of dawn to push on once more. Joe told them they were moving too slow and had to hurry to make more progress before winter halted them. Once it hit, they would have to stop where they were during the worst of it and wait it out. He hoped to make this stop near an established settlement or fort. To get her mind off her present problems and turmoil, she began to reminisce about the trip. She recaled the first stop they began to reminisce about the trip. She recaled the first stop they had made at a settlement built in 1758 and named Morgantown. They had lingered there only a short time for rest and supplies. They had planned to folow the Ohio River west in order to have their backs protected and to be near water. It was at Morgantown she had her nineteenth birthday. It came and went, unnoticed by al except her and Uncle Thad. Perhaps that was why she thought of Morgantown first.

Later, they had pa.s.sed the settlement of Clarkesvile in the Indiana territory. It was there she realized most of the exploration and settlements were French. Nearly al the forts, towns and trading posts they visited were run by and surrounded by the French. It was immediately made clear to everyone the French and Indians were friends and it behooved the settlers to be friendly to the French. That situation had proven very difficult for many of the men who had fought against the French many times before coming to the colonies. Bigotry and prejudice were slow to die in the hearts of many of the men.

When their group made stops at these forts or posts, they would stock up on depleted supplies, rest, and talk with the trappers and traders about newer and better routes and newly settled places. Alisha thought, if we had al been French, everyone wo'ld probably stil be alive. But, of course, the brave would not have been our enemy or treated as he was.

These Plains Indians were entirely different from those she had seen and met along the trail. The Miami and others had been pleasant or ignored their pa.s.sing. There had never been any open hostility from any of the tribes or bands they had contact with. Alisha had not realized the tribes they met had been friendly with the white man for a long time. Other tribes had simply learned the futility white man for a long time. Other tribes had simply learned the futility of resisting the white man and his weapons. The Miami had thought it wiser not to attack a group of whites who had no intention of settling on their lands.

It had been about that time the men had decided to abandon the river trail and head overland to the settlement of St. Louis. Some of the men had argued bitterly about this decision. Along that trail, they had pa.s.sed a settlement named Vincennes and moved on to Cahokia in the Ilinois territory.

Their longest stop had been where the Mississippi River, referred to as the ”Big River,” joined with another river caled the ”Big Muddy.” There they built rafts. It had been a slow and dangerous crossing on the light rafts. Some of the wagons and a few lives had been lost in the swift, swirling red waters. She recaled how awesome and terrifying it had been for her. How had she found the courage to keep from crying that day?

Some of the others had been too frightened to cross after witnessing tragedy and failure by others. Those who refused to make the crossing headed for the settlements of Kaskaskia and Ste. Genevieve. The ones who were successful were jubilant and proud. She had found their stay at St. Louis enlightening. There was a very large trading post built in 1764 situated near the river and surrounded by numerous homesteads and smal settlements. She had learned the Spanish had controled this area at one time and had offered large land grants to anyone who would come and help settle it. Their ploy had been unsuccessful and they soon lost and sold their claims to the French.

The owners and proprietors of the trading posts there were the ones who convinced them to head on for the Dakota Territory. They told many stories about the vast, open ranges for grazing and They told many stories about the vast, open ranges for grazing and farming; the forests filed with game for food and skins; the numerous streams and rivers for water supply; the serenity and safety because of the nearby military post, Fort Pierre; and of the gold brought back by some of the traders and trappers. Alisha asked herself, what good had that fort been to them?

Had it helped or protected them in their greatest hour of need? It might have been on the other side of the world for al the difference it had made for her people.

She reflected again on her journey. The traders and trappers in St. Louis did not, in their desire to see this area settled and more populated, tel the settlers of the dangerous living conditions and strife between the whites and Indians, especialy the Sioux. They had believed the increasing number of settlers and soldiers would help their businesses to grow. A greater number of whites would increase the chances of their pus.h.i.+ng the Indians farther north or west, leaving the trapping grounds and gold-filed streams and hils open for the taking. Either way, they were sitting pretty at the crossroads between the East and West. It would be far safer for them to have whites at the back door than hostile Indians. Their journey had been much rougher after they left St. Louis. Winter had overtaken them sooner than expected. Joe Kenny, their scout, had told them they were lucky for that was one of the mildest winters he had seen in these parts. If that was what he caled a mild winter, Alisha joked to herself, I would hate to be caught in one he considered harsh.

I can recolect days we didn't make any progress and others, only a little. I remember those worst days when Joe would make us form a circle and wait out the storms and deep snows. Then, he would push us on and on as soon as the weather cleared and the would push us on and on as soon as the weather cleared and the trails were pa.s.sable. Perhaps he was in a big hurry to be out of this area. No, if he had known what we realy faced, he would have told us. If he did, they didn't listen or wouldn't turn back. If our men were smart enough to bring two extra wagons of feed and hay for the animals when gra.s.s couldn't be found in the snow, why couldn't they be smart enough to sense our danger or the signs of trouble brewing? We should have been wise enough to turn back on those days filed with overwhelming problems and bickering.

Thank goodness for those books I brought along or I would have been as irritable and edgy as they were on those layovers. But there were good times, too. Alisha smiled as she recaled their Christmas on the trail. It had been wonderful and beautiful. For a change, nearly everyone had been helpful and friendly to each other. Thankfuly, that Christmas brought out the best in their group. Perhaps it had been because of the children. They inspired a happiness and gaiety al their own, and spread it to those around them.

That was the time I gave Uncle Thad that funny little pipe Mr. Parsons carved for me, Alisha thought wistfuly. It had taken nearly al my smal savings, but it was wel worth it. Uncle Thad, I miss you so much. Why did they have to take you from me? Why did you force me into that trench? I would not be in this situation if I had refused.

Oh, G.o.d, how I dread another winter here! Those high snowdrifts and ice; I've never been so cold in my life. I hated the way the wind made my nose and cheeks hurt and turn red. My feet and hands would get so numb they didn't move. They felt like dead weights and ached with the cold. There were even times when it weights and ached with the cold. There were even times when it hurt to breathe and my teeth would chatter so loud I couldn't sleep al night. I was never so happy as the day when winter was over and spring came.

That Christmas day had not been cold or wet. Perhaps the good weather that day had been a gift to al of them. She suppressed laughter as she pictured the little tree the children had cut and fixed. They scampered around like chipmunks confiscating and colecting anything they could to decorate it with. Mrs. Dooley had conniptions over her missing red ribbons and Mrs. Blackstone over the cotton puffs from her husband's medicine bag. But how lovely the tree had been when they finished! Everyone had been delighted and amazed by the children's pooled efforts. I can stil hear the singing and laughter ... Ben and his deep voice ... I bet he had been nipping from that little jug he kept hidden away for ”special occasions,” as he caled them. When he started to dance around the tree, I thought I would die laughing. Mrs. Frazer sure was angry with him for acting that way. You always were a show-off and clown, Ben. Sadness touched Alisha as she realized she would never hear his laughter or see his antics ever again.

The remainder of that night had been spent drinking hot b.u.t.tered rum and tea and exchanging smal sentimental presents. There would be no old-fas.h.i.+oned Christmas with plum puddings and yule log, as they had planned. But she did have beautiful, wonderul memories no one could ever take from her. Alisha tried to sleep, but it would not come, for her mind was too ful of thoughts of those days and times. Time had slipped by swiftly after that night and spring was near. She vividly recaled the first buds on the trees, the early shoots of gra.s.s, the unfolding petals first buds on the trees, the early shoots of gra.s.s, the unfolding petals on impatient wildflowers, and the first warming of the sun after al the snow and ice were gone. The sky had never seemed clearer or bluer. The air had smeled fresh, crisp and clean. It was like witnessing the rebirth of nature in a virgin land of unexceled beauty. Her uncle had commented to her, ”This land's a woodsman's delight, Lese.” It was abundant in lush green forests filed with elders, pines, spruces, red cedars, elms, ashes, poplars and others which even he could not name.

He had shouted excitedly, ”Look, Lese! Wood for every need! Hard woods for furniture, homes and fences, and soft, pliable woods for carving everything we need or want.”

Game had once more become abundant. The hunters had had no problems bringing back plenty of meat. During their rest stops, the girls and women could pick wild berries and fruits to be used in delectable pies and desserts. The lengthening days gave more time and light for ch.o.r.es and socializing.

She recaled the loud cheering and joyous celebrating when they finaly reached their goal in May. None of them knew the war they had feared and fled had already begun back East. The first thing they had done was to set about building a strong, high fortress for protection. Then each family built a smal, one-room cabin. They had worked hard, long hours to finish before the violent thunderstorms, accompanied by hail, heavy rains, and cras.h.i.+ng lightning, hit them. They had been told this was a common thing in June. The few storms Alisha had witnessed had been at a distance. She greatly feared violent storms.

She had thought the fortress a waste of time and energy, for the Indians she had seen and met had al been friendly. Bitterly, she added, it was a waste ... it did not protect us or our homes. It added, it was a waste ... it did not protect us or our homes. It might just as wel have been made of blades of gra.s.s. I thought the journey had forged me into a stronger, braver person. Where is al that courage and strength now? To think I actualy held a gun on my people to prevent the brave's beating and death! How he must have laughed at me! This new land and search for freedom was not worth its cost. To think of al we sacrificed and endured ... for what? To die! Those who died on the way here were lucky! They wil never know that al the sacrificing and suffering were futile. I wil never forget the day it al began to shatter -the day I first met Wanmdi Hota!

She roled over on her side and faced the teepee, listening to the sounds of nightingales caling to their mates. Stilness settled in as the night darkened.

Chapter Six.

Gray Eagle lifted the flap and entered his teepee. The fire had died down to glowing embers, casting a soft light inside the darkened teepee. His keen vision could make out Alisha's form on his mat. Opalescent moonlight filtered down on her, creating a soft, romantic setting.

He moved over to a side pole to hang his weapons. He undressed and came to lie beside her. His alert senses had already told him she was not asleep. He remained stil for a time, relaxing and thinking. He roled to his side and propped up on his elbow, gazing down at her. Instantly, he saw her stiffen and alarm race across her face. She wanted to move away, but it was too late to feign slumber. Besides, it would not make any difference to him if he had other things on his mind.

He read her thoughts. She fears I wil take her roughly as before. No, Cinstinna. Tonight, I wil show you love and desire. She trembled as he leaned forward and kissed her. She spoke so softly he almost could not hear her. ”Please, Wanmdi Hota, don't hurt me again. Hiya ...”

He puled her rigid body to him and began to kiss her. He pressed warm, moist lips to hers. Light kisses began to linger and deepen. He halted to remove her dress and breech cloth. She offered no resistance, for fear he would cut this one off, too. There was no doubt in her mind if he wanted it off, it would come off one way or another. She would rather be naked before him in private, than before his people.

than before his people.

”Please, hiya...” she pleaded against his lips as their naked bodies met. ”Please, Wanmdi Hota, hiya...”

He raised his head and looked down into her terror-filed eyes. He spoke to her in a firm, husky voice, ”Sha, Lese. Niye mitawa. Kokipi sni.” She did not understand his words, but his tone of voice and gentle mood had a soothing quality. She did not beg again, but tensely waited for him to continue.

His hands roamed over her quivering body with soft caresses. Combined with his fiery kisses, his touch made fires ignite and burn deep within her. This time was unlike the others. Why didn't he just take her and stop this slow torment to her senses? What was he doing to her? What were these strange, tingling sensations inside her and al over her body?

Soon, she found it impossible to resist the emotions he was loosening within her. Nor could she stop them. She felt herself weakening and her resistance giving way to his lips and touch. His kiss and touch brought ecstasy and hunger she did not understand. Reality flooded her. He is using my own body against me! I must fight these feelings. I must not give in to him wilingly! I wil act the harlot for no man, especialy him! He has taken enough from me! I wil not give him my heart and soul as wel!

Her mind screamed warnings and rebelion to her traitorous body. Fight him, Lese! Don't show a weakness for him. Resist! Be anything, but his lover! Slave, yes, prisoner, yes, lover, no, no, no...

But as he continued his slow, deliberate a.s.sault on her, she knew she was losing ground to his greater knowledge and vast experience. He is a savage! her mind screamed. Why does he make me feel this way? He wil only use me until he tires of me, and then cast me aside. Why doesn't he hurry and be done? How much cast me aside. Why doesn't he hurry and be done? How much longer can I fight this hunger for him? I must concentrate on other things-his cruelty, the dead, their suffering and pain, of anything but what he is doing to me...

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were swolen and firm and her nipples taut with pa.s.sion and desire. When he teased or kissed them, she felt she would surely go mad if he did not soon possess her completely. She could not free her lips from his, nor her body from his grip. She could not stop the hands which started an aching deep in the pit of her being. Her pulse and heart raced madly with each other. Finaly, she could no longer restrain her desire for him nor could she reason with her conscience. She was as pliable as putty in his hands.

What did it matter anyway? He would take her, wiling or not. Why fight him? Why resist him? These feelings which refused to be queled tore at her reason. His kisses and touches had whetted her love-starved appet.i.te, and it demanded to be fed and sated. She couldn't understand how he could hold off like this. She could feel his heated ardor. Was he only teasing her? Was he showing her he had complete power and control over her in every way? He was tantalize her to the brink of begging for fulfilment. She was his prey, and he devoured her with his hunger. She wanted ... she needed... what? She did not know for sure. At last, he heard what he had been waiting and working for, ”Sha ... sha, Wanmdi Hota. Sha, sha .. .” she moaned the words out in final defeat and desperation.

He moved to top her, parting her unresisting thighs with his knees, and gently entered her. She inhaled deeply as he filed her. His thrusts were slow and deep. Her resistance sank lower, until their lovemaking was the only reality to her. She moaned softly as their lovemaking was the only reality to her. She moaned softly as she was caught up in the heat of pa.s.sion. She didn't know when her arms had encircled his back and embraced him tightly. Her lips and body responded feverishly to his kisses and nonverbal instructions. Pa.s.sion climbed higher and higher. Soon, his thrusts increased in depth and speed. As she molded herself to him, it happened, for the first time. As the shock of release came, her eyes flew open wide and she stared into his. There was no pain this time, only the sweet pa.s.sion and pleasure they had bespoken. He smiled down into her astonished face as his lips reclaimed hers. Waves and waves of ecstasy crashed over her. Together, they rode the crest of pa.s.sion-filed waves until they had subsided. Afterwards, they lay spent, breathing heavily.

Suddenly, ful comprehension came to her of her unbridled behavior and what had just taken place between them. She fought to pul away in shame and anger at herself and him, but he held her tightly and securely, refusing to release her.

”Hiya, Lese,” he said firmly. She ceased her futile struggles and lay limp in his embrace.