Brazen Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  “For five moons when the mating fever was upon me. My body and mind were weakened by her temptations,” the chief raggedly confessed.

  Those words told Gray Eagle more than he cared to hear. He, too, had been tempted by Leah in a moment of weakness and distress. He had resisted her skills, but his father was older and weaker. Shame washed over him again at the recall of Leah’s evil magic. Yet, he could not reveal such evil to his father. As painful as it was to admit, he realized the old man was just as proud and tormented. Could he sell a child of his own seed? Shalee was right; a man must learn of his own child. Shalee…

  He turned to apologize for his harsh words and glacial challenge to her honesty. Shalee was gone. Why had she left? Perhaps to allow them to settle this offensive matter? Perhaps to spare Running Wolf the added shame of her knowledge of this deed? He would seek her out soon and talk with her. Now, there was another pressing matter to decide.…

  But Leah’s senses were reeling with the curious facts she had overheard between Shalee and Gray Eagle. What was the meaning of such wild claims and accusations? During her first talk with Shalee, the princess had alluded to being a white pioneer, to coming here from the East. The princess had curiously asked what an Indian was! How could the daughter of Chief Black Cloud not know of the awesome legend that ruled the Indian territory? Why had the loss of five previous years made her appear and behave white, all white? Why had she reverted to English? Shouldn’t she at least know Blackfoot? Something didn’t add up here! Shalee, ravished as an enemy? Shalee, captured by this intrepid warrior? Shalee, once his white slave? Could this mysterious information be deciphered and used against them somehow? Perhaps…

  Chapter Fifteen

  The discussion in Running Wolf’s tepee was exacting and cumbersome. The crux of the agonizing problem boiled down to the question of which was more important: the pride of Running Wolf or the life of his unborn child, a child who existed only in the treacherous mind of Leah Winston. The three warriors argued, debated, talked, and reasoned. What was the best decision for all concerned—excluding the white girl who had brazenly and willfully instigated this disastrous matter.

  White Arrow and Gray Eagle noted a critical and distressing fact as the grave conversation continued for a lengthy time; Running Wolf’s male ego, inflated at the idea of having sired another child at his age, severely clouded his logic in regard to the dissenting troubles such a horrific birth could bring to him and to his people. Shalee was the proclaimed daughter of a Blackfoot chief and his white captive Jenny; yet, she was now an honored and loved princess, wife to the Oglala chief’s own son. Running Wolf pondered aloud if it could be so different for his child. Which blood was stronger, the Oglala or the wasichu? Could he condemn his own child to a life of hardships and hatred, to embittering and perilous enslavement? Could he bear to envision his child suffering at the hands of another warrior of a distant tribe? His masculine pride and parental instincts played havoc with his logic. Too, he had made this tragic mistake once before…. Yet, he could never reveal the antecedent motive for his present seditious behavior.

  The other two warriors recognized his emotional dilemma and appealed to his wisdom and courage. They tried to show the chief the precarious conflicts this situation could inspire. The birth of his child by this particular girl could cause dissension and resentment among his warriors and people. How would his followers feel if their chief took a woman who was not of their kind, especially since his own son had already chosen a woman who was half-white? It was an implicit law to marry among your own kind. Besides, Leah was already a disgusting predicament. If she bore the son of the chief, she would become impossible to deal with or to handle. They touched a sensitive nerve when they reminded Running Wolf of the dark stain this episode would place upon his honor, not only here in this camp but also in others.

  In frustration and anxiety, Running Wolf roared, “Why did the Great Spirit allow this evil to touch me and my tepee? Can I slay the woman who carries my seed? Can I send her away to never place my eyes upon it? Surely you must see my grief and confusion, my son? What if this girl was Shalee, when she was Alisha? What if the child in question was Bright Arrow? What if you stood in my tracks now?” he challenged wretchedly.

  “I see and feel both your shame and sadness, Father. But Shalee is the daughter of Black Cloud. Leah is a white slave, one with cunning evil in her heart and blood. Do you wish to pass such evil to your seed? Even when Shalee was Alisha, she was unlike Leah. She was born good, with an Indian heart. The blood of Black Cloud flows stronger than her wasichu mother’s in her body. Such is not true with Leah. My life and yours do not match,” he rebutted patiently and lovingly.

  White Arrow made a vital point previously ignored, “What if the white girl lies? You slept upon her mat only a few times, Running Wolf. What if she uses such times to trick us? What if she does not carry a child?” he politely contended, without hinting at the old man’s likely inability to produce a child at his advanced age.

  Both men, father and son, focused their concentration and gazes upon their friend. White Arrow continued, “We must watch her closely. If she does not come in the woman’s way soon, we will know she speaks true. If she does, we know she lies. A new moon will clear this matter. We must be patient. We must tell no one of our suspicions. If Leah does not carry your child, we will punish her and sell her. I think she lies. She is evil.”

  White Arrow’s suggestions and assumptions filled them with excitement and relief, especially Gray Eagle. Leah had lied to him many times before; she had attempted to destroy his relationship with Shalee; she had tried to seduce him. She had first claimed the unborn child was his. Was no evil too great to challenge her? Perhaps this was another brazen lie! Even if she was pregnant, Running Wolf might not be the father!

  “You speak wise and cunning, White Arrow. We must hold this deed hidden in our hearts. A new moon will reveal the truth. If Leah lies, I say she is sold that day. No, Father,” Gray Eagle instantly changed his mind, eyes glowing with vengeful justice. “Do not sell Leah. She is evil and her magic great to cloud your eyes. Find a warrior whose strength and cunning are greater than hers, one who hates the whites and will not be tempted to fall prey to her dark evil. Give her to him as a gift. A man does not hesitate to punish a prize he has not traded for. If she is free, her value to him will be less.”

  “Will they not wonder why I give away a strong slave? Will they think I am too weak to control her?” the chief pressed apprehensively.

  Gray Eagle laughed cynically. “Many times our enemies the Comanche and Apache have hinted at truce with us. If we offer them truce and many presents, they will not question our deed. We will send fine horses, gifts, and the white girl to Night Rider or Thundering Wind. They live far to where Wi ends his day. Leah will trouble us no more,” he concluded.

  “Our enemies cannot be trusted to keep their truce,” Running Wolf stated truthfully.

  “It does not matter. We are stronger than the Comanche or the Apache. Is your face not worth the sacrifice of many presents and the doing of this false deed?” Gray Eagle slyly hinted, grinning devilishly.

  “Only a trick to be rid of the white girl?” White Arrow probed.

  “Yes,” Gray Eagle casually informed them. “The offer of truce will cover the deed from all eyes.”

  “Yes,” Running Wolf quickly concurred, his eyes brightening and his shoulders coming erect. “We will wait for the moon to reveal her words, then we will send her to… Thundering Wind,” he made his decision, knowing there was no way Leah could entrap that puissant warrior who was known to slay whites for simply gazing at him too long or too boldly.

  “It will be so. We must tell no one of this matter.”

  “You have saved my face and revealed much love and forgiveness,” the chief remarked to both men. “My heart will not forget such deeds.”

  Leah picked up the last water skin to head back to camp. All her plans were ruined now. How long could she conceal the t
ruth? It was only a matter of time before they would know she had lied. What would they do to her then? Terror filled her. Such a trick would surely bring deadly reprisals, tortures too horrible to imagine. What a fool she had been! Shalee, it was all her fault. If she hadn’t returned from the dead, things would have eventually worked out for her. Removing her now would be impossible, for she would be on guard against any threat or danger. There was only one thing left to try; she must tempt Running Wolf beyond his control; she must get herself pregnant!

  After all, if he believed she was already carrying his child, there would be no reason to deny his carnal desires. The arrogant savage! He was so damn proud of his prowess! His pride must become the weapon to bring him down! Surely he would alter his lowly opinion of her since she was accepting his aging seeds? Surely affection, or at least tolerance, would result from his excessive conceit and joy? She must plan this matter carefully. If she could entice him to lie with her each night, surely she would become pregnant! Time was short, for her monthly was approaching; its heavy flow would be impossible to hide from his astute mind and keen eyes. Time, why was it always against her? If her desperate ploy failed, she must plan to escape the day her monthly began. And on that eventful day, she would kill Shalee before she left! Shalee had destroyed all her dreams, and she would pay, as promised….

  Too bad that splendid savage had managed to clear his wits that critical night in time to prevent her seduction! At first, he had been too drugged to resist her. If only she had enjoyed him to the fullest that night, then he could not be positive the child wasn’t his! Vengeful lights flowed in her emerald eyes as another brazen scheme hastily formulated in her devious mind: What if Gray Eagle couldn’t recall what happened between them that first night before his mind cleared? After all, he was heavily dazed on some drug. Could she convince him they had actually made love before he regained his senses? If he couldn’t recall that night clearly… visions of Shalee’s anguish at such a betrayal glimmered in her mind’s eye. Even if she lost her tolerant life here, she could have her revenge upon all of them, especially Shalee and Gray Eagle. She could easily cast doubts over Gray Eagle simply by revealing their intimate contact! Running Wolf and White Arrow would be stunned by their warrior’s conduct, not to mention the staggering blow to Shalee’s trust and love! Did she dare to make one final attempt to seek this brazen ecstasy? Yes…

  It was very late when Gray Eagle returned to his tepee. Shalee was sitting near the fire, absently endeavoring to keep his meal warm without ruining it. Bright Arrow had eaten long ago and was fast asleep. A gloomy aura hung depressingly heavy in the still air of their tepee. When he came forward and sat down beside her, she did not look at him. Instead, she quietly served him his food.

  His heart -plagued by her reticent constraint, he accepted the food offered by his wife. He ate mechanically, without awareness of what he was consuming, his appetite gone. This should be a happy day for them, but Leah had spoiled it. Antipathy and malice sat down to eat with him.

  When the remains were cleared away, he watched her through anxious eyes, trying to find the words to break this oppressive silence. “Shalee,” he hesitantly began.

  Shalee stood up, her heart in a vicious turmoil. “I need fresh air. I will return soon,” she stated in a voice tight with the fierce emotions that churned turbulently within her. She left him sitting there, pondering whether to leave her alone or rush after her.

  She slowly walked through the camp, which was preparing for the night. She strolled a short distance from camp, heading for a cluster of boulders not far away, the massive rocks looming dark against the indigo heavens. Rays of moonlight danced among the wildflowers, scrub trees, and wavering grasses. A gentle breeze played in her auburn hair, blowing wisps across her face. She automatically pushed them aside as she continued her purging trek into the welcoming arms of darkness.

  Night birds sent forth their soulful notes to their mates, their mates answering in like fashion. As if to not be outdone, several owls began their matching game of hide-and-seek. Nocturnal insects joined in this musical salute to the freedom of life here on the Plains, the cicadas easily claiming the loudest voice. The mournful howl of a coyote traveled across the shadowy terrain, also seeking his mate. What a soothing and tranquil place this was! Even the sooty night could not conceal the untamed beauty of untouched Nature.

  As her gaze roamed over the vista left behind and the one entreating her to come forward, she was amazed by the vivid difference between the two landscapes so close together. The ground became sandier the further she walked. Vegetation grew scant and offered a lucid contrast to that left behind. How strange that the earth would suddenly crave to become barren and harsh. It was like a comparison of life and death; yet, this area was far from dead. Other creatures and growth populated it. She halted to allow her eyes to visually walk for the length of their ability. Despite its wildness, it was captivatingly beautiful and demandingly perilous.

  In a mystical way, the two vistas alluded to the striking contrasts between Gray Eagle and herself, the unconquerable warrior and the gentle English girl. Like the complexion of the verdant forest, hers was ever changing and ever maturing. A promise of a serene aura and a sheer delight in being were revealed in both. As with the river, her flow of life was willingly constrained by her surrounding banks. She was alive and green, offering freely of her gifts. She made very few demands, but gave much. She could be as carefree and colorful as the wildflowers or as stoic and strong as the tall trees. She could be as tranquil as the mirror-surfaces of the small ponds or as mischievous as the animals that came to drink there.

  But Gray Eagle was reflected in the presentation of life before her. He was demanding and often unrelenting. He was complex and resolute, no matter the passage of time or the seasonal requirements. He was mysterious and mercurial, his shifting moods as drastic as the temperature changes during the frigid nights and fiery days upon that perilous land. He could be prickly like the cactus and bramble bush; he could be as deadly and secretive as the vipers and scorpions that lived out there. An awesome aura pervaded each of them, the invincible warrior and the aggressive desert. His body was as hard as the massive boulders out there, his heart often as immovable. Like the panorama before her, he wanted things to remain as they were forever. But life would not permit that course. As this rugged land was unwelcoming to strangers, so did Gray Eagle deal harshly with anyone or anything who dared to enter his domain and try to change him. Why did he fight against the scant beauty offered freely to him, as the desert resisted nearly all floral beauty except the stubborn and tenacious cacti and yuccas? Was it so difficult to harnass his exacting power, to generously yield to new life?

  “Shalee,” he spoke softly from her side, startling her.

  “Why do you wish to be alone on this great day?” he worriedly asked, knowing her reasons only too clearly.

  “I needed to think. Even after all this time together, some things never change, Gray Eagle, just like that desert,” she sadly stated, pointing to the view before them.

  “Your words confuse me,” he remarked, eyeing her intently.

  “Our life is like that desert out there. You allowed me to enter your fierce domain, but you never forget I am an intruder here. You tolerate my presence as long as I offer no threat of change to you. But when the winds of evil blow over your lands, you punish me for their damage. I am as much a vulnerable trespasser in your life as I would be out there. As long as I conform to your needs, you tolerate me. But if I briefly step from the shadow of your awesome wing, you see me as a betrayer, as white. As you seize me and return me to your shadow, your talons are sharp and painful. Many times you have lacerated my heart with them, but I had thought such days of danger were past,” she dejectedly stated.

  She sighed heavily, then continued, “But when it came to a choice between accepting shame upon the face of your Oglala father or listening to the tormenting words of your white wife, you would rather think me a wicked liar an
d viciously attack me rather than believe he was capable of giving himself to a white woman. Perhaps it was your lingering resentment of me that stirred your lips to attack me. One thing for certain, you have never forgotten or forgiven my white heritage. I saw it in your eyes and heard it in your voice. My heart is heavy, for I fear you never will. No matter how long we are together, something always seems to come along to remind you of our differences. The white barrier will always be there to plague us; for even the awesome power of Gray Eagle can never destroy it. Yet, you are compelled to try, for my sake.”

  “Your words trouble me, Grass Eyes. I do not mean to hurt you.”

  Tears stung her forest-green eyes. She swallowed the constricting lump in her throat. She inhaled several times to master her warring emotions. “But you have hurt me, my husband,” she quietly informed the tense warrior. “These past moons have been difficult for us. Only through the love and kindness of the Great Spirit was I spared and returned to your life-circle. I have lived in your tepee and loved you for many winters; I have borne our son. I have become Indian in all ways, except for my skin color. I have changed and adjusted to you and your people, to your way of life. I have asked little from you, only your love and acceptance. Yet, some part of you is withheld from me. When trouble touches our life, you become a stranger to me; you see and treat me differently. You close your wings around your body and deny me their comfort. It strikes fear and sadness in my heart and mind when you become Indian rather than my husband. Is Running Wolf more important to you than your own wife?” she painfully flung at him. “Is his honor greater than mine, his words more acceptable? If our words differ, must I be viewed the liar and he the unquestionable truth-teller? Am I capable of such treachery, but he is not? How many pains and winters will it take before you trust and love me as I do you, before I am Indian?”