Savage Illusions

by Cassie Edwards

  Inhaling a qu­ave­ring bre­ath, he sta­red at this wo­man who only a short ti­me ago he had tho­ught was lost to him fo­re­ver! He­re she was, as tho­ugh an of­fe­ring to him, or an an­s­wer to his pra­yers to the fi­res of the sun!

  And ne­ver had she lo­oked lo­ve­li­er!

  Beneath the splash of the mo­on­light, she sto­od li­ke a cop­per prin­cess at­ti­red in the clot­hing of the Blac­k­fo­ot. Her long, dark ha­ir was han­ging free and flut­te­ring aro­und her sho­ul­ders in the gen­t­le bre­eze. Her ex­p­res­si­on was fil­led with sad­ness as she ga­zed up­ward, and as Spot­ted Eag­le drew his mo­unt to a halt and dis­mo­un­ted, he co­uld see te­ars stre­aming down her che­eks.

  Jolena was so ca­ught up in her fe­elings that she had not he­ard the hor­se's ap­pro­ach, nor did she he­ar Spot­ted Eag­le now as he drop­ped his re­ins and left the hor­se be­hind as he wal­ked to­ward her.

  Feeling as tho­ugh he we­re be­ing swal­lo­wed who­le by his thun­de­ro­us he­ar­t­be­ats, Spot­ted Eag­le to­ok one mo­re step, then stop­ped and trem­b­led when she tur­ned sud­den eyes to him and dis­co­ve­red him stan­ding the­re.

  Jolena's he­art se­emed to le­ap in­to her thro­at. She be­ca­me dizzy from the sur­p­ri­se of fin­ding Spot­ted Eag­le the­re. She was so stun­ned, she co­uld not spe­ak, nor co­uld she mo­ve! She had just be­en pra­ying that he wo­uld be all right and that he wo­uld co­me to her.

  And the­re he was, as big as li­fe it­self, stan­ding so clo­se, his eyes brim­ming with his own te­ars of hap­pi­ness!

  "Jolena?" Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id softly.

  "Spotted Eag­le?" Jole­na sa­id softly.

  Then both bro­ke in­to a run and flung them­sel­ves in­to each ot­her's arms.

  Jolena sob­bed as she clung to Spot­ted Eag­le.

  Spotted Eag­le clung to her as tho­ugh, if he let her go, he wo­uld dis­co­ver that this had all be­en a fig­ment of his ima­gi­na­ti­ona sa­va­ge il­lu­si­on! "You are re­al­ly he­re," Jole­na cri­ed, ga­zing up at him. "Oh, dar­ling. You did not die?"

  "I did not die, nor did you," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, la­ug­hing softly as his hands now mo­ved gently over her fa­ce, his fo­re­fin­ger stop­ping at her lips, tra­cing them. "My wo­man, I tho­ught you di­ed with the ot­hers."

  "I was thrown from the wa­gon be­fo­re it went over the cliff," Jole­na sa­id, pla­cing a hand to one of his che­eks, tes­ting to see if he we­re re­al. "And you?"

  "It all hap­pe­ned so qu­ickly that I was for­ced to watch, in­s­te­ad of to act," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, aga­in dra­wing her in­to his em­b­ra­ce, hug­ging her to him. "I tho­ught you we­re with the ot­hers. I… I went down to the fo­ot of the cliff and lo­oked for you. I co­uld not find you. And the­re was no way to tell if you we­re the­re or not. Most of the bo­di­es we­re uni­den­ti­fi­ab­le."

  A shud­der so­ared thro­ugh Jole­na at the tho­ught of what he was des­c­ri­bing. "My brot­her?" she whis­pe­red, da­ring to se­ek the truth, not su­re if she co­uld fa­ce it if she fo­und out that Kirk was truly de­ad.

  "Could you tell if Kirk…" she be­gan.

  "No," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, pla­cing a fin­ger to her lips, stop­ping her next words. "I do not know the fa­te of yo­ur brot­her."

  He held her away from him and ga­zed in­to her eyes. "Did you walk all the way he­re from the si­te of the wrec­ka­ge?" he as­ked. "I do not see how you did. That is a long way to tra­vel by fo­ot." Jole­na was not su­re how to tell him abo­ut Two Rid­ges and what he had tri­ed to do. Two Rid­ges was sup­po­sed to be Spot­ted Eag­le's best fri­end. She did not want to be the one to tell Spot­ted Eag­le of a best fri­end's de­ce­it!

  Before she de­ci­ded what to say, or how, the war­ri­ors brin­ging Two Rid­ges' body back to his pe­op­le ca­me ri­ding in­to the vil­la­ge.

  The ar­ri­val of many hor­ses in­to the vil­la­ge bro­ught the pe­op­le out­si­de. Chi­ef Gray Be­ar ca­me from his te­pee ahe­ad of the ot­hers. The­re was a happy, joyo­us re­uni­on of fat­her and son as Spot­ted Eag­le and his fat­her em­b­ra­ced.

  And then Jole­na saw Two Rid­ges. The mo­on was so bright that she qu­ickly re­cog­ni­zed him. She pla­ced her hands over her mo­uth to stif­le a scre­am when she dis­co­ve­red Two Rid­ges' blo­ody back as he lay ac­ross the hor­se on his sto­mach.

  Jolena then ga­zed qu­ickly up at Spot­ted Eag­le, qu­es­ti­oning him si­lently with her eyes.

  "A Cree's ar­row that was me­ant for Spot­ted Eag­le kil­led Two Rid­ges in­s­te­ad," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id sul­lenly.

  Jolena was ren­de­red even mo­re spe­ec­h­less, now re­cal­ling her dre­am in which Spot­ted Eag­le had di­ed from an ar­row's wo­und.

  "Two Rid­ges sa­ved yo­ur li­fe?" Jole­na blur­ted out, fin­ding that hard to be­li­eve now that she knew of Two Rid­ge's dar­ker si­de.

  Having de­ci­ded not to tell an­yo­ne the truth abo­ut Two Rid­ges' at­tempt to kill him, Spot­ted Eag­le's jaw tig­h­te­ned and his lips be­ca­me tightly pur­sed. "Spot­ted Eag­le, why don't you an­s­wer me?" Jole­na mur­mu­red, then grew cold in­si­de, thin­king she al­re­ady knew the an­s­wer wit­ho­ut his ac­tu­al­ly sa­ying the words.

  Footsteps be­hind her drew her tho­ughts and her pity el­sew­he­re. She wat­c­hed Brown Elk's ex­p­res­si­on as he step­ped in­to the mo­on­light just as Two Rid­ges' body was lif­ted from the hor­se and was car­ri­ed to­ward him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Everyone step­ped asi­de as Brown Elk mo­ved at a dig­ni­fi­ed pa­ce to­ward the hor­se on which his son lay. He ma­de no so­und as he lif­ted Two Rid­ges from the hor­se and car­ri­ed him in his arms to­ward his dwel­ling, stop­ping be­fo­re en­te­ring his te­pee to ga­ze up in­to Spot­ted Eag­le's eyes.

  "Did my son die with co­ura­ge?" Brown Elk as­ked softly, his eyes ha­zed with a sad­ness that he was trying to ke­ep wit­hin him­self.

  Spotted Eag­le's in­si­des stif­fe­ned, fe­eling ever­yo­ne's eyes on him, es­pe­ci­al­ly Jole­na's as she shif­ted hers up­ward, ga­zing up at him as she awa­ited his res­pon­se.

  Although Spot­ted Eag­le was a man of truth and ho­nesty, this ti­me he had to lie, for to tell the truth me­ant ca­using pa­in that was not ne­ces­sary. "He di­ed with both ho­nor and co­ura­ge," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, his vo­ice drawn. "Yo­ur son di­ed in pla­ce of Spot­ted Eag­le, for Long No­se's ar­row was me­ant for me, not yo­ur son."

  "He di­ed so that you co­uld li­ve?" Brown Elk sa­id, his vo­ice bre­aking. He lo­we­red his eyes. "My son di­ed for a go­od pur­po­se then. He ke­eps the son of Chi­ef Gray Be­ar ali­ve so that he can one day be chi­ef of our pe­op­le!"

  Jolena lis­te­ned to ever­y­t­hing that was be­ing sa­id, re­ali­zing that most was fal­se. She knew the evil that lur­ked wit­hin Two Rid­ges' he­art. She co­uld ne­ver see him as co­ura­ge­o­us or one who might do an ho­no­rab­le de­ed for the man who sto­od in the way of his ha­ving the wo­man of his de­si­re.

  Jolena had to be­li­eve that Spot­ted Eag­le was co­ve­ring up so­me hor­rib­le truth. She co­uld see it in his eyes, in how they had wa­ve­red as he spo­ke to Brown Elk. She had he­ard it in his vo­ice, that what he had sa­id was pre­ten­se, su­rely to sa­ve hur­ting Brown Elk.

  For now she held her ton­gue. But la­ter she wo­uld qu­es­ti­on Spot­ted Eag­le abo­ut it.

  She co­uld al­so no lon­ger ke­ep to her­self the hor­rib­le sec­ret of what Two Rid­ges had at­tem­p­ted to do to her.

  "Let me help you with yo­ur son," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, mo­ving clo­ser to Brown Elk. "Let me carry him in­si­de yo­ur dwel­ling for you."

  Brown Elk fir­med his hold on his son. "No," he sa­id firmly. "I ne­ed ti­me alo­ne with my son, and then I will
go to a high pla­ce away from the vil­la­ge for my pri­va­te mo­ur­ning."

  Brown Elk shif­ted his ga­ze to Jole­na. "To­mor­row you will pre­pa­re yo­ur brot­her for bu­ri­al," he sa­id softly. He lif­ted his eyes to Spot­ted Eag­le aga­in. "To­night ta­ke my da­ug­h­ter with you and see to her com­fort. She has spo­ken well of you, Spot­ted Eag­le. It is go­od that she has fo­und a fri­end in you, just as my son al­so saw you as a de­vo­ted fri­end. The fri­en­d­s­hip bet­we­en our fa­mi­li­es will be­co­me even clo­ser as we all be­co­me mo­re ac­qu­a­in­ted with my da­ug­h­ter."

  Jolena was fil­led with dre­ad at what Brown Elk had sa­id­t­hat she wo­uld be pre­pa­ring Two Rid­ges for his bu­ri­al!

  How co­uld she? She co­uld hardly stand to be ne­ar him when he was ali­ve, much less now when he was de­ad!

  Brown Elk smi­led down at Jole­na. "I spo­ke to you of war­ri­ors co­ming to my do­or to co­urt you?" he sa­id softly. "Per­haps the­re is no ne­ed to lo­ok fur­t­her for a per­fect hus­band. Spot­ted Eag­le wo­uld ma­ke the best of hus­bands for my da­ug­h­ter."

  Jolena's lips par­ted in sur­p­ri­se, and her he­art po­un­ded as she felt a blush rush to her che­eks. Al­t­ho­ugh she had just be­en fil­led with an ap­pre­hen­si­ve dre­ad for what wo­uld be ex­pec­ted of her to­mor­row, ever­y­t­hing el­se in her new li­fe se­emed to be fal­ling in­to pla­ce easily.

  She had fo­und her true fat­her. She was lo­ved by a won­der­ful man. Her fat­her had even bles­sed the­ir uni­on wit­ho­ut kno­wing it! The only mis­sing in­g­re­di­ent in her hap­pi­ness was her re­la­ti­on­s­hip with Two Rid­ges. If only she and he co­uld ha­ve known each ot­her as brot­her and sis­ter!

  His at­trac­ti­on to her had su­rely be­en be­ca­use he had mi­sin­ter­p­re­ted the­ir na­tu­ral clo­se fe­elings as lust!

  She sho­ok her he­ad slightly, sor­row­ful for that part of her li­fe that she wo­uld ne­ver kno­wof sis­terly af­fec­ti­on for a brot­her ot­her than Kirk.

  Kirk! she tho­ught des­pe­ra­tely to her­self. So much had be­en hap­pe­ning, her sad­ness abo­ut Kirk had slip­ped from her mind!

  She tur­ned her eyes up to Spot­ted Eag­le, wan­ting to beg him to go and lo­ok for her mis­sing brot­her. If she and Spot­ted Eag­le had sur­vi­ved the storm, per­haps Kirk had be­en as lucky!

  But now was not the ti­me to bring up one brot­her when anot­her was lying de­ad and be­ing mo­ur­ned by her true fat­her.

  Later, when she and Spot­ted Eag­le we­re alo­ne, she wo­uld then talk of anot­her brot­her.

  Everything be­ca­me qu­i­et as the re­ne­ga­de Cree's hor­se was bro­ught clo­se for Brown Elk to see and to ac­cept as his.

  "This is the hor­se of the Cree re­ne­ga­de who kil­led my son?" Brown Elk sa­id, his ga­ze mo­ving slowly over the whi­te stal­li­on, se­e­ing its sle­ek­ness and its worth.

  "Yes," Do­ub­le Run­ner sa­id so­lemnly. "It is yo­ur now. The Cree lo­ses not only his li­fe, but his me­ans of tra­vel to the Sand Hills." Brown Elk nod­ded his ap­pro­val, then tur­ned and went in­si­de his te­pee.

  Quiet, the­ir he­ads bo­wed, the pe­op­le tur­ned and went to the­ir own dwel­lings.

  Gray Be­ar ga­ve Spot­ted Eag­le a fat­her's hug, sta­red down at Jole­na qu­es­ti­oningly for a mo­ment, then wan­de­red away to­ward his own dwel­ling.

  Spotted Eag­le pla­ced an arm aro­und Jole­na's wa­ist and us­he­red her to his te­pee at the far ed­ge of the vil­la­ge, whe­re a me­an­de­ring stre­am pas­sed be­hind it, sil­ver in the mo­on­light.

  As Spot­ted Eag­le held the buc­k­s­kin en­t­ran­ce flap asi­de, Jole­na pa­used and grew even mo­re som­ber and qu­i­et when she he­ard the sud­den sor­row­ful wa­ils of her fat­her. She crin­ged and tri­ed to clo­se her ears to the so­und, but not­hing stop­ped the mo­ur­ning cri­es from re­ac­hing her.

  '' Oh, ah! No-ko-I! Ah, Ah! No-ko-I! My son! My son!" cri­ed Brown Elk, over and over aga­in, fil­ling the still night air with the so­und, as tho­ugh tho­usands of ar­rows we­re pi­er­cing it.

  Spotted Eag­le pla­ced a firm arm aro­und Jole­na's wa­ist and whis­ked her in­si­de his te­pee.

  Wiping te­ars from her eyes, Jole­na fo­und two In­di­an wo­men the­re. One was re­ad­ying the fi­re, whi­le the ot­her held a lar­ge black ket­tle with ple­asant aro­mas waf­ting from it.

  Spotted Eag­le ges­tu­red to­ward a co­uch cus­hi­oned with pelts be­si­de a fi­re that was now ta­king hold, sen­ding its fla­mes aro­und the logs, as tho­ugh in a sen­su­o­us ca­ress.

  Jolena sat down. Re­cog­ni­zing one of the two wo­men as Mo­on Flo­wer, she fo­und it easy to smi­le as the wo­men cast her hum­b­le glan­ces just be­fo­re le­aving Jole­na and Spot­ted Eag­le alo­ne.

  After the wo­men left, Spot­ted Eag­le sat down be­si­de Jole­na. Ta­king two wo­oden bowls that had be­en pla­ced clo­se to the fi­re, he lad­led out eno­ugh so­up for them both, then han­ded a bowl and wo­oden spo­on to Jole­na.

  "Eat," he sa­id softly. "So­me­ti­mes it is go­od to fe­ed the physi­cal body at ti­mes li­ke this, if not the so­ul."

  Jolena nod­ded and to­ok the bowl and spo­on. Wit­ho­ut re­luc­tan­ce she be­gan sip­ping the so­up from the spo­on, fin­ding it rich and de­li­ci­o­us, and in a way it fil­led part of that empty vo­id that the day's events had ca­used. Her ga­ze swept aro­und her. Spot­ted Eag­le's lod­ge was the sa­me as her fat­her'svery lar­ge and han­d­so­me, well sup­pli­ed with par­f­lec­hes, sad­dles, fo­od, ro­bes, and bowls. It was com­for­tab­le and cozy, what Jole­na wo­uld ha­ve ex­pec­ted in the lod­ge of her Blac­k­fo­ot war­ri­or.

  Spotted Eag­le ate in si­len­ce, then set his empty bowl asi­de as Jole­na set hers down on the flo­or at her right si­de.

  "Tell me how you hap­pe­ned to find our vil­la­ge of Blac­k­fo­ot," Spot­ted Eag­le then as­ked, not ab­le to hold in the qu­es­ti­ons that we­re eating away at him any lon­ger. "Tell me what you know abo­ut Two Rid­ges' fe­eling to­ward you."

  Jolena tur­ned her eyes slowly to Spot­ted Eag­le. "I, too, ha­ve qu­es­ti­ons," she mur­mu­red. "And, dar­ling, do you re­mem­ber how we ha­ve both sa­id that we sho­uld ne­ver ke­ep sec­rets from each ot­her? I will tell you things that ne­ed to be sa­id, if you will al­so empty yo­ur he­art of fe­elings that are tro­ub­ling you."

  "About Two Rid­ges?" Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, stret­c­hing one long, le­an leg out be­fo­re him, le­aning back so that he was res­ting on his right el­bow.

  "Yes, abo­ut Two Rid­ges," Jole­na sa­id, swal­lo­wing hard.

  "Besides myself, you are the only one that will know the truth," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, his vo­ice drawn.

  "And you know that it will go no far­t­her," Jole­na sa­id, mo­ving to her kne­es be­si­de him. She ga­zed in­ten­sely in­to Spot­ted Eag­le's eyes. "Dar­ling, what I ha­ve to say can hurt you de­eply."

  "The hurt is al­re­ady the­re," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id. " Kyi. I know of Two Rid­ges' fe­elings to­ward you. I know that he in­ten­ded to kill me be­ca­use of you, yet I find it hard to know the exact re­ason he felt that this was ne­ces­sary."

  Jolena lo­we­red her eyes and aga­in swal­lo­wed hard, trying to find the co­ura­ge to tell him what she ne­eded to thrust from wit­hin her, so that she co­uld enj­oy so­me sem­b­lan­ce of pe­ace aga­in. She wan­ted to be free to be happy with her be­lo­ved war­ri­or and to be a part of her true pe­op­le.

  She ra­ised her chin and lo­oked Spot­ted Eag­le squ­are in the eye aga­in. "I was thrown from my wa­gon on the day of the ac­ci­dent," she ex­p­la­ined. "Two Rid­ges fo­und me be­fo­re you did. He to­ok me to a ca­ve." She was fin­ding the story dif­fi­cult to tell, be­ca­use tel­ling it se­emed the sa­me as re­li�
�ving it.

  But she fi­nal­ly fo­und the co­ura­ge to con­ti­nue.

  "Two Rid­ges was gen­t­le at first," she sa­id, her vo­ice soft and qu­ave­ring. "But then… then he be­gan kis­sing and to­uc­hing me. He tri­ed to ra­pe me, Spot­ted Eag­le. I… fo­und a rock. I hit him over the he­ad, then es­ca­ped."

  A qu­ick ra­ge he­ated up Spot­ted Eag­le's in­si­des. His eyes we­re lit with fi­re as he sat up and re­ac­hed for Jole­na's hands and clut­c­hed them tightly. "He did that?" he sa­id, his jaw tight. "Two Rid­ges was ca­pab­le of even that sort of de­ce­it?"

  "You won­de­red what wo­uld ma­ke him fe­el that it was ne­ces­sary to kill you?" Jole­na sa­id, te­ars stre­aming down her che­eks. "He co­uld not fa­ce you kno­wing the truth, and he knew that I wo­uld tell you if ever I had the chan­ce. He had to know that it wo­uld be eit­her you or he who wo­uld die. I don't gu­ess he li­ked the odds. By am­bus­hing you, he was go­ing to be su­re that you di­ed, in­s­te­ad of him."