Part 14 (2/2)

though she had wiled herself mute.

She thought perhaps she had gone mad. She knew pain did that sometimes when it was so great and brutal. Just let me die, she prayed softly.

One last crack of the whip and she knew her body had been ripped apart by its force. Pain and fire shot through her, Her mind reeled in fuzziness. No more, merciful G.o.d, no more...

Her body was floating in a pot of boiling oil. There was b.l.o.o.d.y darkness and gloom al around her. Charon had come to ferry her soul across the river to Hades. What if Cerberus wouldn't let her pa.s.s? But of course he would, she was dead, wasn't she?

Delusions whispered in her ears. Reality had fled and in its place were phantoms. Each came with words and visions of hideous torments. Then for one brief moment, she sensed total awareness of her surroundings. I am dying, she realized. At last, it's over. She lasped into unconsciousness, void and black. Gray Eagle had inwardly flinched at each blow he delivered. He cursed himself for not taking his friend's advice. He had tried to deliver the lashes lightly, but found the apa had a mind of its own and would not be cheated of its task. He gritted his teeth in remorse as he witnessed the soft ivory flesh torn and bleeding. He had watched the long, jagged gashes appear. Raw welts streaked across her slender back. He had announced five strokes and knew he could show no weakness by giving less.

He could feel the strike of the blow each time. Blood was flowing unchecked down her back and dripping into the dusty dirt. He could not understand how she had remained silent so long. He should have recaled how gruesome and painful a las.h.i.+ng was. His reasons for doing this to her seemed unimportant and unnecessary now, but it was too late for apologies.

now, but it was too late for apologies.

He mentaly punished himself for going through with this. I should have come up with a lesser punishment for her, he agonized. On the fourth lash, he has stiffened in anguish as she arched backwards in convulsive torment. He had almost dropped the whip and run to her side, but had caught himself. What would they think at his show of mercy for this white slave? He secretly wished their opinions and thoughts did not matter to him. Had it been possible, he would have exchanged places and taken the beating himself for her. He was torn between his love for her and his love and loyalty to his people. How could he explain his feelings to them when he did not even understand them himself? Why did the Great Spirit give his heart and love to an enemy when it was impossible for him to return her love or to have her openly?

On the last lash, she had finaly sagged and gone completely limp. He had prayed to the Great Spirit for her to lose consciousness immediately to avoid the agony and shame she would be forced to endure. Never once had she cried out in pain or pleaded for mercy. How she must hate me to have such courage, he thought bitterly.

He heard praise al around him. He had even heard cals for mercy and words of sympathy for her. Was this what it had taken to win her a measure of acceptance and honor by his people? He scoffed, the debt is paid now. She had won great respect and face in their eyes, but would never know until the day he chose to reveal the entire truth to her-if he ever had the chance. There were two people nearby who did not share in Alisha's new-found acceptance and favor: Kathy and Chela. They elated in her suffering and shame and wished her death.

Chela boldly stepped forward and spoke tersely, ”She is not Chela boldly stepped forward and spoke tersely, ”She is not dead yet, Wanmdi Hota. A few more lashes of the apa wil finish your work. Even she deserves some mercy, doesn't she?” she queried sarcasticaly.

Gray Eagle was in no frame of mind or mood for her envy or sarcasm. He roughly shoved her aside and pa.s.sed by. He turned and warned in an ominous tone, ”If you continue to taunt me and my judgments, Chela, or continue this disrespect of me and my honor, I wil beat you next and see if you can hold as silent as she!”

He sneered at her look of disbelief and rage, then went to Alisha. He glared angrily at the raw, b.l.o.o.d.y pulp of torn flesh. He cut her feet free, then went to her hands. Blood ran down her arms from injuries inflicted by the thongs. She had bitten into her hands to keep from screaming. Her wrists were burned and bleeding from straining against the rawhide thongs which bound her hands to the post.

He cut her hands free and leaned her head back against his shoulder. As he lifted her limp body gently, her head roled backwards onto his arm. He winced as he saw the b.l.o.o.d.y, swolen lip and the laceration on her forehead. Both injuries ran blood freely down her face and into her damp hair. There were trails where tears had flowed unhalted and now mingled with her blood. He hurriedly walked to his teepee to tend her injuries.

He found White Arrow waiting for him with herbs and medicines. Quietly, he asked, ”Does she stil live, koda?'

Gray Eagle nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. He took the water and cloth from White Arrow. While he held her in an upright position, Gray Eagle washed the tears, dirt and blood from her face and arms. Then, he laid her down on the buffalo mat. He placed the cloth under her forehead to staunch the flow of blood, placed the cloth under her forehead to staunch the flow of blood, which continued to flow unchecked.

White Arrow pa.s.sed him the medicines from the pezuta teepee. Together they tended her injuries in silence and apprehension. Gray Eagle took his knife and cut the remainder of her dress off. He covered the lower half of her body with a blanket. White Arrow knew he had never seen such beauty and loveliness, which was now so marred by the angry red weals.

Gray Eagle carefuly bathed her back, but stil Alisha made no moves or sounds. Fearfuly, he checked to see if she stil breathed. Agony raced through his mind and tore at his heart. Yes, she was stil living, but her respiration was very shalow and light. He recoiled in anguish as he touched the jagged welts. He had seen and given a great deal of punishments, but this was very different.

”I should not have done this thing, Wanhinkpe Ska,” he admitted. ”You were right, my koda. It was too harsh and deadly for Cinstinna. I could have easily kiled or maimed her. I should have stayed her punishment until my anger cooled. It is too late, for the deed is done. The icapsinte was too much for one so helpless and weak. I heard her pray for silence and she did keep silent. She is far braver than I had ever imagined, or her hatred for me is so great that it gave her the strength for silence. I heard her pray for death, but I shal not let her go.” For the first time in his life, Gray Eagle felt guilt and remorse for a deed he had committed, even if it had seemed necessary and justified at the time.

”Maybe her G.o.d wil grant her prayer, Wanmdi Hota. She is very weak and has suffered much at our hands. Too much...

somehow, I feel this action wil take her from you forever.”

Gray Eagle flashed him a look of defiance and determination.

”I wil never let her go, not even to the bird of death! He must fly ”I wil never let her go, not even to the bird of death! He must fly away with empty wings this time!”

He took the salve made from the mountain herbs and rubbed it on her flayed back. He reflected back on the time she had done this same thing for him. Unlike himself, she did not resist his aid or attack the one giving it. He forced a smal amount of juice from the peyote between her lips and down her throat to lessen the pain. The juice was laced with horsemint to prevent shock from the loss of blood and the great pain. He placed some yelow dirt paste on the wound on her forehead and bandaged it tightly with a clean cloth. He then cleaned and treated the smaler injuries on her hands and wrists.

He gazed down into the pale face when he had finished al he could do for her and moaned in anguish. He sat beside her al night, occasionaly dabbing more salve to her forehead and back as it was pushed away by the flow of blood. Frequently, he forced water down her throat and mopped her fevered brow. She never responded to his gentle ministrations. Only her light, steady breathing told him she stil lived. Throughout the long night, he prayed and chanted the healing chant many times.

His deep timbered voice caled out: Wakantanka, Wanmdi Hota cals, I seek your help with my prayer.

Return the life of the ska wincinyanna to me.

Give her spirit the strength to fight and return. Cal back her spirit leader and the bird of death. Cal not her feet to walk the Mahpiya Ocanku.

Protect her from harm and death.

Wakantanka, Wanmdi Hota cals, Wakantanka, Wanmdi Hota cals, I am a warrior and an Oglala.

I have known and faced death and danger many times. Cinstinna is weak and afraid.

Hear me and answer.

Once more make her spirit and body strong and wel. Do not let her die upon the scaffold in the night. Let her lie at my side instead in love and peace. Wakantanka, Wanmdi Hota cals, Give Cinstinna back to me for now and al days...

Gray Eagle knew he could not bear for Alisha to die and be out of his life and reach forever. It had taken him many winters to find the woman he could love and desire with al his being. Now he had nearly lost her with his own rejection. Why was he throwing away the very thing he wanted more than he had ever wanted anything?

Solemnly he vowed, I wil never be forced into hurting you again, Cinstinna. I wil give you no reasons to hate or resist me. I wil give you the time and patience to forgive and understand this thing I have done to you this day and other days. Perhaps in time, you wil learn to forget and trust me as it should have been from the beginning.

Even as Gray Eagle spoke these vows in his heart, forces beyond his control were busy destroying them. Powers and emotions he could not stop were strengthening against him and his wishes. For a brief moment, he had alowed himself the same foly Alisha had in hoping things could work out between them. He forgot for a time that they were enemies-but his and her people would never forget. Fate would not alow him to keep the promises would never forget. Fate would not alow him to keep the promises he had just made for a very long time, if ever ...

Close to sunrise, Gray Eagle finaly dozed, but could not rest for long. The haunting face of Alisha appeared before him each time he closed his eyes. He could not escape that last look she had given him before the icapsinte, a face naked with humiliation and pain, eyes filed with hurt and anguish and stripped of pride and happiness. How would she ever be able to understand and forgive the things he had done to her? Perhaps, she never would ...

He recaled the agony when his flesh was torn and bleeding in sacrifice to the Great Spirit at his Sun Dance. The only things that had made the sacrifice bearable were his beliefs in obedience to the Great Spirit and his own honor. He had proven his love and grat.i.tude to the Great Spirit. He had shown his great strength and courage to his people. His scars were visible for al to see and know what he had endured. His bravery had been rewarded many timts since that day. Was he not known as the bravest, most powerful warrior in the entire area? Were his honor and words not accepted and trusted by al, even those who hated him and his people?

But what reward did Alisha have to think upon and accept?

What reason could she accept for her sacrifice and pain? He knew her forgiveness would be a long time coming, if ever. He softly said, ”I would trade al my victories to have this morning back again and to have your love and forgiveness, Cinstinna. I wish I had the power to change what I have done this day. But man cannot recal the sun or moon when they have made their paths across the sky. He must right his deed on the new moon or sun, as I must do.”

He stared down into the ashen face of his woman, for that was truly what she was to him. She lay so near to death. For a moment, truly what she was to him. She lay so near to death. For a moment, her face flashed before his mind's eye, alive with her first insight into love that night not long ago. He could visualize her sparkling smile, like the one she had given him the day he rescued her from the rattler. Sadly, he could hear her words, branded into his mind for al time: ”Why, Wamndi Hota? Why?' He had no answer.

Abruptly, a loud, excited voice caled to him from outside his teepee flap. He realized it was Little Beaver caling to him to come and talk. He looked at Alisha and then rose to go and see what his friend wanted so early in the morning.

Alisha had not moved or stirred since he lay her down on his mats. At least, she was unaware of the pain and fever raging within her body. Gray Eagle flexed his muscles as he stepped outside in the grayish, pre-dawn light. He inhaled deeply several times as he brought his emotions back under his strict control. He thought it best if his friend believed he had been sleeping, instead of lying awake al night, praying for the life and healing of his woman. Once more, the cool, controled facade of the warrior slipped easily and quickly back into place. His stoical mask revealed none of the inner turmoil of his heart, nor did his fathomless eyes reveal the pain and anguish he felt. To anyone looking, there stood a warrior with the traits of a man with an animalistic nature.

Little Beaver had walked a short way off from Gray Eagle's teepee and paced anxiously back and forth as he waited for his leader and friend. He had observed the girl's effect on Gray Eagle many times. Little Beaver worried whether or not he should tel Gray Eagle that he understood his desire to keep the white girl. Hadn't she shown more bravery, inteligence and honor than many men did? Was his friend unaware of the fires of love and desire which lit her eyes when she looked upon him? Did he not see and which lit her eyes when she looked upon him? Did he not see and know he was not truly her enemy, nor she, his? Why did he not demand for the others to accept his claim on her? Hadn't they both proven their courage before the Oglalas? But Little Beaver did not dare confide in Gray Eagle yet. This day there were other threats and problems requiring his ful attention.

Gray Eagle came out of the teepee, and asked, ”Capa Cistinna, what troubles you so early this day?”

Little Beaver began to relate his news rapidly and excitedly. He had ridden al night to bring his message from Chief Black Cloud of the Blackfoot tribe. He exclaimed, ”The war council is meeting this coming moon in the camp of Chief Mahpiya Sapa. Al chiefs, war leaders, band leaders and warriors are to gather to talk of war and to smoke the war canduhupa. They speak of a vote to war against the akicita-heyake-to at the wooden fort. They wish to purge our lands and forests of the wasichus and soldiers in our lands and those of our brothers. Mato Ki-in-yangki-yapi has caled for us to join with al our brothers and even with our enemies to fight in eighteen moons. They ask Wanmdi Hota to lead them in this great battle.''

Gray Eagle met his steady and proud gaze and answered, ”We wil meet our brothers to talk and vote. Wil al the Otchenti Chakowia meet and prepare for warf'

”Al tribes of the Seven. Council Fires gather and wait for the Oglala and Wanmdi Hota. I saw warriors and leaders coming from the Brule, Hankpapa, Miniconjou, Sane Arc, Two-Kettle and other tribes to the vilage of the Si-Ha Sapa. They spoke of others who were to come; the Cheyennes and Shosshone, our friends; and the Crow and p.a.w.nee, our enemies. Al wil join in truce to drive the wasichus and bluecoats from our lands and back into their own wasichus and bluecoats from our lands and back into their own lands to the East. There has been much talk to go on the warpath. Wil Wanmdi Hota and the Oglala join with them and lead this battle?”

Gray Eagle deliberated on Little Beaver's words. ”It wil be a long and fierce battle to rid our lands of the wasichus and bluecoats. The bluecoats have the firesticks and great wal to protect them. We must conquer both for victory. Many wil walk the mahpiya ocanku with the Great Spirit before our land is free of them al. The sacred burial grounds wil have many new burial scaffolds before the fighting is over. May Wakantanka protect his children.”

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