Forbidden Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  As Chula began his first steps, Gray Eagle knew his time was running out. For the first time, he felt weakness within his body. Never had he experienced such helplessness. Dreams of Alisha flickered before him as he slipped into a world of black nothingness…

  Powchutu cautiously weaved his way between boulders, clumps of cacti, slender cottonwoods, and prickly thickets of dying tumbleweed. He halted well away from Alisha’s hiding place. He retrieved his field glasses and sat down to guard her. He had been very careful not to stir up any dust which might alert her to his presence. All he could do now was to sit, watch, and wait.

  His decision had been made; he would linger for a day or two before going to her aid. Solitude and worry would have Powchutu’s desired effect upon her. He would allow her spirits to sink and her doubts to climb. She would be more susceptible to his startling news when she was plagued by fear, suspicion, and weariness. He was positive that it would be days before anyone discovered Gray Eagle’s absence. With Powchutu nearby, Alisha would be safe. Even the Great Spirit seemed to aid his cause by sending down light sandstorms which would soon conceal his trail.

  This last thought brought another caution to mind. He prudently hid his lethal weapon by digging a deep hole and burying it near the boulder where he hid. He smoothed the sand back into place, then put several rocks of varying sizes on top of the site. If he and his love were somehow captured, there would be no telltale weapon in their possession. Just in case of some unforeseen emergency, he carefully checked out his knife and bow. Finding his new bowstring taut and his bow supple, he then checked out his quiver of arrows. Deciding that all his weapons were in perfect order, he relaxed and smiled triumphantly.

  For two days, Powchutu agonized over Alisha’s unmistakable sufferings. He wanted nothing more than to rush to her side, give her water, and hold her in his arms. But all would be ruined if he did. She would never agree to return the first day or the second one. She would require some proof of time in order to accept the lies he would utter. Facts would speak louder than any words he could say: Gray Eagle would not return; but Powchutu had come to seek her out and to rescue her.

  He hardened his heart to her torment; he blinded his eyes to her needs. Each time she covered her face against the stinging sands, he wished that she had his bandanna to protect her lovely face. Each time that she stood up and eagerly searched the horizon for a sight of Gray Eagle, he made certain there was no warning flash of light from his field glasses. Knowing of her modesty, he would look away whenever she relieved herself. Time and time again he mentally pleaded for her forgiveness and understanding.

  He waited until the night of the second day since Gray Eagle’s disappearance, then secretly went to her side while she slept. His worried gaze tenderly scanned her pale features as he mentally rehearsed his upcoming talk with her. So much depended upon her immediate acceptance of his story. He would allow her only enough sleep to ward off some of her great fatigue for their long journey, yet not enough to make her wits sharp and clear.

  “If I could so easily convince Gray Eagle of your supposed treachery, my love, then surely I can convince you of his. He had nothing to base your guilt upon, yet he actually believed me!”

  Powchutu would not admit the fact that it had been his cunning deception that had swayed Gray Eagle. Only Alisha’s white wedding headband had convinced him of Powchutu’s words. Gray Eagle would never know that the headband now soaked with blood was almost identical to Alisha’s, the gift from her Indian father, his gift of love to his new-found daughter.

  Certain incidents now returned to haunt Powchutu’s peace of mind. He wondered if he had only imagined that there had been another emotion revealed in the warrior’s eyes for only a brief moment, an emotion other than shock, pain, and anger. He reasoned that it could not have been physical pain, not before the shot. His look of fury had been easy to read; that other one had not. It was so very mysterious….

  Powchutu now had the time to doubt his own wisdom in forcing Alisha to suffer alone. He should have taken a lesson from the warrior himself; he should have boldly ridden up to her that same day and taken her captive until they were far away from this place. In time, he could have convinced her that his daring actions were for her own good. She might have cried and argued with him in the very beginning, but in the end she would have had to accept her separate fate.

  Dawn would soon arrive. With its light, they would have to flee as fast and as far as possible. There would be no stopping the bloodbath which would surely follow the discovery of the murder of Wanmdi Hota. Powchutu shuddered to think what the torture could be like for him and Alisha. If it came to capture, he vowed that he would pretend that he had slain Gray Eagle and had forcefully captured Alisha for his own woman. First, they would have to prove his guilt; second, hers. Regarded as Shalee, she would naturally be returned to the Blackfoot camp to some sort of happiness and safety. In any case, Gray Eagle was out of her life forever.

  The shrill cry of a hawk flying in circles above them returned him to full reality. He stood up and studied the horizon in each direction, much as Alisha had done for the past two days. Seeing no sign of dust clouds which would signal approaching riders, he assumed that they were still safe. The sun had not completely shown her brilliant face as yet, but it was getting brighter by the minute. It was time to awaken Alisha and to begin their journey toward their new destinies.

  He kneeled down beside her sleeping form. He breathed deeply several times as he summoned his courage to carry out the final phase of his plan. He moistened his lips and sighed. Ever so lightly he touched her pinkened cheek with the back of his hand. For what seemed an eternity to him, he hungrily devoured her fine features. He hesitated to awaken her, anticipating the effects his words would have on her.

  Yet, he knew that he must press forward without further delay. For some unknown reason, he whispered softly to her in Oglala, “Kokipa ikopa, Cinstinna. I am here, my love. Wake up, Alisha. Alisha…” He gently shook her shoulder…

  Chapter Three

  Alisha stirred, trying to focus her sleepy eyes on his features. Confusion was evident in her emerald gaze. In her groggy state of mind, she had briefly mistaken him for Gray Eagle. As her vision and senses gradually cleared, she tried to make some sense out of this curious situation. Why was Powchutu, her dearest friend, instead of her new husband at her side? Adding to her puzzlement was the fact that he was speaking in Sioux.

  Although it was difficult to speak, many questions began to painfully spill forth from her parched lips, “What are you… doing here? Did Gray… Eagle send you to… fetch me home? Where is he… Powchutu? He has not re… returned for days. Did something happen to…”

  Powchutu silenced her with a gentle finger upon her dry lips. He cursed himself for her needless sufferings. He should have realized that she did not have the stamina of a warrior. “Here, drink some water first. Then I will tell you everything you need to know.” As he spoke, he handed her the water skin and smiled warmly.

  She drank greedily as she sated her thirst, her eyes never leaving his unfathomable face. She speculated that something must be terribly wrong, and he was stalling the bad news. With trembling hands she slowly lowered the water bag and passed it back to him. Anxious lights glimmered in her entrancing eyes; a ghost of a wary smile played at her lips.

  “Powchutu, what’s wrong?” she asked, almost too softly to be heard. “I can see it in your eyes, old friend. I’ve won the battle between Gray Eagle and me. You need not worry about me anymore. The war is finally over; we’re married.”

  He stood up and turned his back to her. He sighed deeply. Then he faced her once more. His intense expression and reluctance to speak warned her that Powchutu bore ill tidings.

  “Is he…” she began and hesitated. She could not finish such an unspeakable question. Her eyes mutely pleaded with the man who was as close to her as a real brother to tell her his dreaded news.

  “Alisha…” Powchutu also stammered and h
alted, searching for the right words, words which would pain her, yet convince her of his story.

  He began anew, “How do I tell you such news?” He was finding it harder to trick her than he had imagined. To plan a deception was easy, but to face her while carrying it out was nearly impossible. It had been the same with his plan for Gray Eagle. To plot his murder was simple; but to actually gun him down had been one of the most difficult things Powchutu had ever done in his entire life. Yet, it was too late to turn back now.

  “Please, Powchutu,” she entreated in growing fear and mounting anxiety. “Tell me what? Is he… did some enemy… I cannot even utter such thoughts. Tell me,” she shouted, panic clawing at her.

  “It’s over, Alisha,” he stated simply, increasing her confusion. He lowered his eyes to conceal the guilt in them.

  She observed her friend for a few moments, trying to deduce his meaning. She did not know if he was referring to something about her or him. She was grateful that he had not spoken her worst fear aloud: Gray Eagle is dead. Her brow knit in puzzlement. She pressed, “What is over?”

  His dark eyes fused with her worry-filled ones. In an emotionless tone he stated, “You and Gray Eagle. He returned to his village two days ago. He will not return for you.” He waited for his callous words to filter into Alisha’s dazed mind.

  Bewilderment suffused her. “I don’t follow you. He went back for supplies. But he should have returned to me by now. Is something wrong in his camp? Why didn’t he send someone to get me? He knows I have no food or water.”

  “You did not hear me, Alisha,” Powchutu explained. “He is not planning to ever come back for you. Neither will he be sending anyone to get you. He has already told his tribe that Shalee is dead. He told them you two were attacked by some renegade warriors. He claimed you were killed and that he has buried you out here. Buried you where only he knows the place. I hoped and prayed that he was lying. I guessed he had either killed you or just left you out here to die. Knowing his cruelty and desire for great torment, I felt he had deserted you where no one could find you. This is the season for the last buffalo hunt before winter. He knows it is unlikely that anyone would be around here. He forgot I was the one who drew the map for you to follow. I could guess about where you would be camped.”

  As he was relating his false tale, Alisha’s face went stark white. She began to tremble like an elm leaf in a strong breeze. She shook her head from side to side, silently shouting no… no… no….

  “I swear he will not return for you, today or any other day. Chela will soon take your place in his tepee as was planned before he captured you. Even now she comforts him in his fake sorrow.”

  Like a violent whirlpool, her entire life with Gray Eagle rushed around and around in Alisha’s mind. It was true that their loving truce was new and fragile, but he had vowed his love of her and acceptance of her color. After all that had happened between them just recently, she could not accept such inconceivable news. In her pain, she turned on her friend and lashed out at him. “No! You are mistaken. He loves me! He will come back for me. You’ll see. I will wait here for him. He has already chosen me over Chela,” she yelled in a jealous rage.

  “How many more days will you wait for him, Alisha?” Powchutu retorted, desperate to keep his plan from failing. “How many nights alone will it take to prove my words to you? I would give anything I possess if I did not have to be the one to bring you this news. There is no one else to save you. There is no one else who loves you as I do. You have no food, no water, no horse, and no weapon. Does this not seem strange to you? It has been two days since he left. How long can you survive out here this way? How long before an enemy warrior might find you and capture you? What then, Alisha?”

  His train of thought was clear to her. His challenges hit home, deeply and painfully. Her eyes burned from the lack of needful tears; her throat ached with dry sobs. Yet her body lacked the moisture to aid her need for tearful release. Her breathing was ragged and shallow, bringing new discomfort to her throat and chest.

  “It cannot be true,” she sadly murmured. “He would not leave me here to die. He loves me. I know he loves me.”

  “I wish it were not true, my love, but it is. He now sits in his tepee, eating and drinking while you go without food and water. He can ride where he pleases, while you are stranded here in danger. He has weapons to fight off his many enemies, while you have nothing to protect your life and honor,” he patiently reasoned. Powchutu knew that he was like a brother to her, her dearest friend. She trusted him. He had been the sole source of her comfort, safety, and friendship many times in the past. She would eventually accept his lies.

  “How do you know these things?” she suspiciously inquired, pain gnawing at her broken heart.

  “I could not follow after you from Black Cloud’s village because he told White Arrow to hold me captive there,” he began in a tone that he would use if speaking to a small, hurt child.

  But Alisha hastily interrupted him, “He told me these things. He wanted to come after me himself. He said there were many things I should know. He speaks English. He said he loves me and wants me. He will keep the secret of Shalee so I can be his wife.”

  “Alisha!” he shouted at her with impatience, but not for the reason she suspected. “Listen to yourself. What else could he tell you to make you willing to linger behind while he leaves you to die? He knows you love him. He was only taunting you with the offer of his love in return. What better revenge than to let you taste the love that you would soon be denied, the love you would pay any price to obtain? Think, Alisha! For as long as you have known him, has he ever given you a single hint of this love he vowed for you? Has he ever given you any reason to trust him so completely? My God, Alisha, have you forgotten all he has done to you? He killed your people. He kidnapped you, raped you, beat you, and abused you mentally and physically. He left you out here to die! He is a savage.”

  She angrily turned away from him, placing her hands over her ears to close out his sharp words. In the beginning all those things were true, but no longer. They had been enemies; now they were lovers. It was impossible for a man to hate a woman, then make such passionate and tender love to her as he had done only a few days ago. There were justifiable reasons for all he had done to her. But things were different now; Gray Eagle had proven this to her by revealing his love and his great secret.

  Powchutu seized her by the shoulders and whirled her back around to face him. He grabbed both of her hands and pulled them away from her ears, imprisoning them within his powerful grasp. “You cannot hide from the truth! He only seeks to save his reputation. You know the importance he places upon his honor and position. The death of Shalee can protect his name; the marriage to a cunning white girl cannot.”

  “No! No! No!” she shouted emphatically. “It isn’t like that. He told me why he kept the truth from me. He had to make certain that I loved him, that he could trust me completely. He loves me, Powchutu. Why are you doing this to me? He loves me,” she argued in vain.

  Powchutu sighed heavily, releasing her hands. He knew then that it was going to require more of Alisha’s pain and more of his own lies to free her heart from Gray Eagle’s strong hold. He relentlessly set out to do just that. “I know he can speak English. I have known for a long time. That day at the fort when he came to demand your return I guessed his secret. He made the mistake of reacting to something I muttered in English. When he came to Grota’s camp to seek my help with you, he confirmed my suspicions. I asked him why he needed me to speak for him. He said you would not believe anything he might say to you because you would feel betrayed, angry, and hurt. I should have told you, but I could not. I knew the pain such news would bring to your heart. If I told you he had always heard your pleas and words of love, but chose to remain silent and stern, you would suffer greatly. I saw no need for you to ever know this treacherous secret since we planned to leave here forever. I did not count on his cunning attack upon those plans.”

 
“You knew his secret and you did not tell me?” Alisha had a glimmer of doubt about her friend.

  “I’m sorry, Alisha, but I knew how deeply it would hurt you. If you will recall, I did warn you several times not to speak openly before him. He threatened to kill me if I told you the truth. I was afraid you would go to him as soon as I told you. I could not risk your life or mine. Please understand and forgive me,” he urged her in true sincerity, yet feigned remorse.

  Her expression told him that she did not know what to think or say. Powchutu took advantage of her weakened state. He asked, “Do you remember how Gray Eagle treated you just before his challenge with Brave Bear? If a man viewed such pain and need in the woman he supposedly loved, would he not speak some words of love and comfort to her? How could he remain silent when it might have been his last chance to confess his love? Could a man go to his grave without once uttering those words? He could not, Alisha. I am a man; I know.”

  “He explained all these actions to me, Powchutu.” She rebuffed his logic.

  “Did he, Alisha? Or did he simply tell you what you wanted and needed to hear? Think back over your life with him. Was his cruelty only in public or were there times when he punished you in private when no one except the two of you could see and know? If he truly loved you all this time, then wouldn’t his hatred only be present before others?”

  Powchutu already knew the answers to these questions. He knew the answers would be in his favor, but not because they were true. He knew because she had revealed such things during her delirium at the fort or had innocently dropped hints during talks with him. Knowing of Gray Eagle’s customs and his personal ways, he knew the truth, but denied it to her. Ready to end this agonizing battle, he asked the ultimate question, “If he loves you, then why are you dying here in the desert while he is back in his camp with Chela at his side?”