Bound by Honor Bound by Love

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  As she chuckled, he turned toward Chogan and approached him. “I’m heading back to the tribe. The teepee and my things are over there.” He pointed to the items behind him. “Onawa and I will take hers.”

  “I see you’re back to barking out orders.” Chogan slid off his horse.

  “I can’t imagine why else you’d come out here,” he replied with a shrug.

  “Actually, I did come out here to take you back to the tribe.” Chogan glanced at Onawa who was getting on her horse before he turned his gaze back to Citlali and closed the distance between them. “Did Onawa tell you that Cole shot Quanah?”

  “She mentioned it.”

  “After she left to find you, the chief ordered Anoki to execute him tomorrow. You need to go back there and stop it.”

  Citlali figured the chief might pass a harsh punishment on Cole for killing Quanah, so he wasn’t surprised. “I plan to talk to the chief.”

  “You need to do more than talk to him. You need to stop him.”

  “Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

  “I’m not telling you how to do it. I’m just telling you to do it. A lot of people in the tribe are counting on you.”

  Deciding he’d heard enough, he pointed to the teepee and his things. “Then you won’t mind putting those on the travois and taking them to the tribe while I ride with Onawa.” Without waiting for Chogan to respond, he went to Onawa and hopped up behind her on the horse. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. “I’m ready.”

  “Don’t you want to wait for him?” she asked as Chogan strode over to the teepee.

  “Why? He can take care of everything by himself.”

  “I thought you might want to talk to him on the way back.”

  “I already talked to him.”

  She laughed. “You two barely said anything.”

  “We said enough. Men don’t need to talk for hours like women do.”

  “Alright.” She urged the horse forward and called out a greeting to Chogan.

  Chogan waved in return then she led the horse into a gallop.

  On the way back to the tribe, Citlali knew if he was going to assert his position, he needed to remain calm and handle matters as logically as possible. Though he could show his emotions safely around Onawa, he knew it was to his advantage to refrain from showing them to others. The people in the tribe needed someone who wouldn’t let emotions override good judgment. And part of that would require him to do the best thing despite how he felt about it.

  He pulled Onawa closer to him and pressed his cheek against hers, taking in the quiet strength of her support. He didn’t look forward to telling the chief he didn’t agree with him. It was something he never enjoyed, but in the past, he’d relented and given into the chief’s will. Such would not be the case this time.

  They arrived at the tribe much too soon, and Citlali reluctantly pulled away from Onawa so he could get off the horse. After helping her down, he turned to the group of people who gathered around him and Onawa. Though he could detect the many questions they had when his gaze settled on them, they remained quiet. He stepped forward, and there was a hesitant moment before they took a step back to allow him room so he could go to the chief’s lodge.

  He couldn’t help but notice the solemn mood they were in. He sensed a mixture of apprehension, fear and anger, but the prominent mood was definitely somber. Having left when an uproar over whether the white people should be allowed to stay in the tribe was going on and learning that a man’s life hung in the balance, he knew he’d have to proceed with care.

  When he reached the chief’s lodge, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them and steeled his resolve. This was it: the moment of truth. He’d either get the chief to agree with him or lose his position in the tribe. Either way, he was going to stand his ground and show no emotions, whether good or bad. He almost glanced over his shoulder to see if Onawa was still watching him but decided he couldn’t afford to lose his focus.

  Stepping into the lodge, he heard the chief struggling for breath before he saw him lying on a rug in front of a fire, wrapped tightly in a blanket. Even with the warmth in the room, the chief shivered. Citlali’s gaze went to the chief’s oldest daughter who nodded to him and quickly left so he could be alone with him. Citlali found a blanket in the corner of the lodge and brought it over to the chief. He gently placed it over the chief and tucked it around him.

  The chief opened his eyes. “You returned.”

  Sitting beside him, he nodded. The chief had always seemed like a pillar of strength, so seeing him weakened this way was hard to take. Knowing the chief wouldn’t like it if he cried, Citlali forced back his tears. “Yes, I returned,” he softly replied.

  “I knew you would. I had a dream you would come before I crossed into the next life.”

  The chief coughed, and Citlali reached for a bowl of herbs mixed with water. “Do you need some of this to drink?” He lifted the bowl to show the chief what he referred to.

  The chief shook his head. “That won’t help me now. In my dream, I saw that your arrival meant my death. It is time for you to continue the traditions of our people.” He paused and took a shaky breath. “You will make sure our ways won’t be forgotten.”

  “Yes, I will make sure our ways aren’t forgotten.” After a moment of silence, he added, “You can’t let Cole die. It’s not the way of our people to punish a man for an accident. Had Cole done it on purpose, he would deserve death, but since he didn’t intend to kill Quanah, he is innocent. Our way is to be at peace whenever possible. You know this.”

  “He can leave as long as he agrees that Etu and Yepa will stay here in this tribe.”

  “Etu and Yepa don’t want that, and you know it.”

  “They will understand when they are older.”

  “Will they?” Citlali asked. “Or will they resent us for separating them from the only parents they remember? And if they resent us, do you honestly believe they’ll stay here when they’re adults? If we let them go now, they might one day return to learn more about their heritage, and at that time, they might marry someone from this tribe.”

  “Your point to this?”

  “My point is that you can’t force someone to do something. They have to want to do it. The only way to lead is to let people make their own decisions. They must follow you because they want to, not because they have to.”

  Citlali waited for the chief to respond, but he didn’t. It took Citlali a moment to realize the chief had stopped breathing. He stared at the chief who’d been his mentor ever since he could remember. Though he didn’t agree with everything the chief said or did, he couldn’t fault the man for wanting to protect the people in the tribe.

  “I’m sorry, Mahkah, but I can’t do things your way anymore,” he whispered.

  He brought his hand up to the chief’s eyes and shut them. His hand trembled and a couple of tears slid down his cheeks. He wished the chief could have lived forever, but his death was the mark of a change that Citlali couldn’t help but think symbolized a new course for the tribe. Things would be different. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew they would.

  After five minutes, Citlali rose to his feet. Once he was able to rein in his emotions, he took a deep breath and left the lodge. The first thing that struck him was the mass of people who waited outside the lodge for him. As before, they were strangely quiet, but there were more of them. He couldn’t tell if the whole tribe surrounded the lodge, but even if a few were somewhere else, what he had to say would reach them soon enough.

  “The chief has crossed over to the next life,” he told them raising his voice so everyone could hear him. “We’ll need to get him ready for burial. We’ll build a scaffold outside the tribe and place his body on it. His head will point to the northwest and his feet to the southeast. After we perform the ceremony to send his spirit away, the family will mourn his death for four days. Then we wait for the scaffold to collapse, at which time we’ll gather his bon
es and bury him.”

  Achai raised his hand to indicate he wanted to speak, so Citlali nodded. “Why don’t we put his body in a box? It’s how we’ve been doing it.”

  “He would have wanted it this way,” Citlali replied. “We must honor him.” He waited to see if Achai or anyone else would argue, but since no one did, he continued, “Who will build the scaffold to hold his body?”

  “I’ll do it,” Hache-Hi volunteered.

  Two others offered to help, so Citlali said, “Then you three will perform that task. I’ll see to it that he’s in his favorite clothes, including his headdress. I’ll be with his family when it’s time to take his body to the scaffold.”

  Citlali went over to the wooden platform the chief had used in the past when he wished to address the entire tribe. It felt strange to be taking the position reserved for the chief, but since he was assuming the role as head chief, he did it. The view from the platform afforded him the scope of the entire tribe and made it easier for everyone to hear him.

  He took a deep breath. “Gary, bring Cole, Penelope, Etu, and Yepa to me.”

  As he expected, the crowd stirred with curiosity, and many murmured amongst themselves. They would find out his intention soon enough, so he held his tongue as Gary hastened to obey him. He scanned the crowd and saw Onawa who was standing with Woape, Julia, and Amata. She offered him a smile, and though he only gave a slight nod in return, he knew she understood that he appreciated her support. And that was a nice feeling. She now knew he couldn’t express his emotions in public, but he could when they were alone. It was a freeing thing to know after all the times he held his emotions back from her.

  Gary emerged to the front of the crowd with a terrified looking Penelope who held onto Etu and Yepa who were crying. Though Cole looked apprehensive, Citlali noted the exhaustion on his face. He recalled how happy the family seemed when they first came to the tribe. Cole and Penelope had brought them here. Had he known the consequences, he would have told them to go back home. But there was nothing he could do about the past. All he could do was send them home so they could heal from what had to be a trying experience.

  “Gary and Hache-Hi,” Citlali began, “you will give them our best wagon, horses, and food. Cole and Penelope, gather your belongings. You and your children will go home together.”

  Anoki came forward. “The chief has ordered me to kill that white man. He killed my brother.”

  His face expressionless, Citlali replied, “It was an accident, Anoki. It was a tragic one, but it can’t be undone and killing Cole won’t bring Quanah back. Cole and Penelope came in peace. We will let them leave in peace.”

  He waited for Anoki to respond, and for a long moment, Anoki glared at him, his expression dark. Citlali refused to break eye contact but also refused to show him any sign of emotion in case he detected any weakness.

  Finally, Anoki broke eye contact.

  “I’m sorry, Anoki, but it must be this way. We have always been a peaceful people, and part of peace is learning to forgive.” Turning his attention to the rest of the people, he decided to go on with the rest of his announcement. “I will not require all white people to leave this tribe. The decision to stay or leave is up to all of you, white or Mandan. I will not force anyone to follow me if they don’t want to.”

  Since that was all he had to say, he grew quiet and waited for their response. One person nodded his approval to his changes. Then another person nodded, shortly followed by another. And it seemed that in one accord, the people accepted the way Citlali chose to handle matters in the tribe. Relieved, he stepped down from the platform and headed back to the chief’s lodge so he could help the chief’s family get his body ready for the scaffold.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Later that day, Onawa helped Woape as she gathered the food Penelope, Cole, and their children would need for their journey back home. As they collected food from their family’s garden, Woape smiled. “It looks like Citlali came through.”

  Onawa returned her smile as she held the large basket so Woape could place squash in it. “It was thrilling to see him on the platform. He’d always been in the shadows before when the chief gave his announcements.”

  “He won’t be in the shadows anymore. He’s the first chief, and there’s no doubt the people respect him. He did a good thing today, Onawa. I think your influence had something to do with it.”

  Pleased, her face warmed. “Will you and Gary be leaving the tribe now that you don’t have to?”

  “No. Gary likes working with Citlali, and I think the feeling is mutual. Now that we don’t have to leave, we won’t.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “I thought you’d be, but you know Julia and Chogan are still leaving. They’re looking forward to living in their cabin, and since they didn’t get far in building the cabin Gary and I were supposed to live in, they will convert it to a barn.”

  “And our father and Erin?”

  Woape placed more vegetables into the basket. “They’ll stay here, too. They plan to marry next week now that things are settling down in the tribe.”

  “I know Julia will miss her aunt, but it’s nice father will still be here.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Julia. She and Chogan will live close enough to visit. Plus, she has her hands full with the twins. I’m glad I didn’t have two babies at once.”

  Onawa giggled. “I did see them climbing all over her the other day when she was trying to cook.”

  “Poor Julia. Not only are they twins, but they’re also boys and boys play rougher than girls. But I think she and Chogan will be happy out there.”

  “I think so, too, and it’s nice we’ll see them again.”

  When the basket was full, they headed for the wagon where others were placing supplies Penelope and Cole would need for their trip. Etu and Yepa’s aunts added clothes and blankets with the bowls, plates and other baskets of food people had given them.

  It took Onawa a few seconds to find a space to put her basket. She placed the lid on the basket before she went to the side of the wagon where Woape was hugging Penelope. A few feet away, Citlali and Gary talked with Cole whose countenance had brightened considerably since he learned he could leave the tribe with his family. The children also looked happier as they hugged Cole’s legs.

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us,” Penelope told Woape, wiping tears from her face with a handkerchief.

  “I’m just glad Citlali talked sense into the people,” Woape replied, also crying. “And maybe if we see each other again, it’ll be a more pleasant experience.”

  Penelope nodded and turned to Onawa. “You have a good husband.”

  Onawa smiled. “Yes, I do.” She caught sight of Amata who stood nearby but didn’t interfere with their conversation. Excusing herself, she walked over to her, weaving through a couple of people as she did so. She stood in front of her friend and offered a tentative smile. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No,” she replied. “I figured you needed time to think of what you wanted to do about my brother and when you did, you’d tell me your decision.”

  Onawa led her further from the group of people so the two could have some privacy. “I almost divorced him.”

  “You left our lodge. I thought that meant you had, but then Woape told me you hadn’t decided what to do.”

  “I should have told you, but…”

  Amata hugged her. “You don’t have to explain. I’m Citlali’s sister. I didn’t want to see you and him divorce, and I would have probably tried to talk you into staying with him. Then who knows if you would have stayed because you wanted to or because you felt a loyalty to me?”

  “I was ashamed, Amata.”

  She pulled away from her and studied her face. “Ashamed?”

  “I felt so foolish. I ran out of that lodge without saying a word to anyone, and I didn’t know how to face you or your other family members after that.”

  “You weren’t foolish. We all knew you
were hurt when he left without explaining why, and we didn’t know if or when he’d return. Ukiah thought it was his chance to court you.”

  “Yes, he made his intentions clear.”

  “And?” Amata asked.

  “I’ll never love anyone but Citlali.” She brushed a stray strand of hair that the wind blew out of her eyes. “I’m fortunate Citlali really does feel the same way for me.”

  “So there are no more doubts?”

  “No. Not anymore.”

  “Good.”

  “And Citlali and I will move into the chief’s lodge. In light of how Ukiah feels about me, I’m relieved. I don’t want to be in the same lodge with him.”

  “Did you tell Citlali?”

  Onawa nodded. “He said he already knew by the way Ukiah looked at me.”

  “Citlali’s more perceptive than most people give him credit for.”

  “Which is a good thing since he’s now the first chief.”

  “Yes, it is,” Amata said. “I didn’t realize how much influence he had on this tribe until he told Cole he could leave and that the white people could stay. I mean, I knew people admired and respected him, but people really value his opinion.”

  Onawa was also surprised, though she supposed she shouldn’t be. She’d respected and admired him ever since she could remember. He’d always seemed larger than life to her. But having seen the human side of him out on the prairie, she was finally comfortable around him and she loved him all the more for it.

  “I’m glad you’re still my sister-in-law,” Amata said, interrupting her thoughts.

  With a smile, Onawa hugged her again. “I am, too.”

  Together, they returned to the wagon so they could wish Penelope and Cole safe travel as they took their children home.

  ***

  A year later

  Citlali and Hache-Hi were walking through the tribe when Gary and Achai brought a wagon full of supplies from town. “I see their venture was a fruitful one,” Hache-Hi commented as they headed for the wagon.

  “When Gary goes into town, it usually is, which is why he’s an asset to the tribe,” Citlali replied. “The guns will help us hunt better.”