Song Of The Warrior

by Georgina Gentry

  “I’m sure you’ll make short work of it and toast your victory with some good brandy.”

  Miles snorted as he went out the door. “With Bible-thumping Howard due to join us? Not likely!”

  The lieutenant walked along with him. “Have you warned your scouts to keep their distance from the Nez Perce?”

  “Yes, surprise; that’s what’s we’re after.” Miles grunted as they walked toward the parade ground where the troopers waited. “We don’t want Chief Joseph to have any inkling we’re coming.”

  “Where do you think we’ll cross their path, sir?” The lieutenant’s handsome face furrowed.

  Miles paused and stared at the map in his hand again. “By my calculations, if everything goes right, we’ll cross the Missouri River, and engage the enemy somewhere in the Bear Paw Mountains.”

  “The Bear Paws are less than forty miles from the border,” the younger man said. “They might get there before we do.”

  “I am well aware of that, Lieutenant,” Miles said in a frosty tone. “I’ve been fighting Indians a long time; surprise is the key here.” He paused next to his horse and looked back at the troops behind him. “We only have to delay Joseph until Sturgis and Howard arrive. Joseph and his handful of warriors don’t have a chance against our three combined forces.”

  “Unless he beats us to the border, sir.”

  “Remember, their wounded and old ones will be slowing their pace down”—Miles pulled his fur hat down over his ears—“although I don’t like shooting women and kids.”

  “Begging your pardon, sir,” the younger man snapped, “those Injuns have left a trail of dead soldiers behind them; remember that.”

  He was having second thoughts about this young officer. “I don’t need to be reminded of my duty by a junior officer.”

  “I meant no offense, Colonel Miles.” Lieutenant Warton was almost groveling.

  That mollified him. Miles said, “The Nez Perce will be watching to the south for Howard and Sturgis, not to the east for us,” Miles said as he swung up on his chestnut horse. “Mount up, Lieutenant, I intend to give those newspapers something to write about.”

  “Yes, sir. Some of those newspapers are pitying the Nez Perce.”

  “Pity!” Miles snorted as he spurred his horse to lead the column out. “Those Indians had better hope God pities them because the U.S. Army won’t!”

  Pe-khoon-mai-kahl, September, the month of the fall salmon run, Willow remembered. If they were home in their beloved Wallowa, the tribe would be catching and drying the great salmon for the coming winter. Instead, it seemed to Willow that all they did was walk or pause long enough to bury someone. There were mornings she felt so tired, the only thing that kept her going was the fact that she carried a baby within her. Somehow that unborn child became the embodiment of the Nez Perce people. She could not, would not think about what would happen in Canada when both brothers realized her condition. Right now, all that was important was crossing that border.

  Sometimes now as the autumn came on, the mornings were chill and no one paid any attention to the fact that she kept a blanket wrapped around herself. Several times, the old grandmother gave her curious looks as if she wanted to ask or say something, then seemed to think better of it.

  The fact that Willow was with child was a small detail right now when the tribe was struggling for its very survival and everyday, more wounded, old and babies died of exhaustion, lack of food or infection. Besides food, they were short of blankets and ammunition. Without ammunition, they couldn’t even kill game or defend themselves when the soldiers attacked again.

  If Willow had hoped neither man would notice her condition until the tribe had made it safely to Canada, she was hoping in vain. She had stopped sleeping with Bear at his request; he said he was afraid he couldn’t control the urge to make love to her if she slept too close. She had been sharing her blankets and body warmth with the old grandmother and the two children while the two brothers scouted and met continually with Joseph and the other leaders. It seemed to Willow that all they did was walk northward, then collapse at night, only to drag themselves up again before dawn and start walking.

  The wounded suffered terribly, but there was nothing to be done for them. Many of them died during the nights and sometimes when death was imminent, they were left by the trail because their loved ones no longer had the strength to carry them. Horses were so lean and weak from not stopping to graze the scanty grass that they dropped in their tracks and the people butchered and ate them. Late at night, small babies wailed weakly and their starving mothers had no milk in their flat breasts to give them.

  Many nights, Willow buried her face in her hands and wept, not for herself but for her people who had suffered so much. She clung to her beloved novel because it gave the children something to think about late at night by the fire when she read to them to keep their minds off their empty bellies. Even Bear and Raven sat and listened, both of them watching her with soft gazes that she tried not to notice.

  What she had feared finally happened. They had crossed the Musselshell River and had camped for the night so that the people could rest and maybe catch a few fish. Water was always in such short supply, that it was a luxury to have plenty. It was dusk when Willow took off her ragged deerskin shift and waded out in the shallows to bathe. The water was cold and the night cool, but who knew when they might have a chance like this again?

  She heard Bear calling for her and abruptly, he appeared on the riverbank. Quickly, she grabbed her clothes, held them before her as she came ashore. She put her shift on, walked toward him, her heart beating with apprehension.

  He smiled, puzzled. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Oh, what was she going to do? “I-I didn’t think it was the time, what with all the other things we had to worry about.”

  He swung her up in his arms and kissed her nose. “Wait until I tell Raven he’s going to be an uncle.”

  “Oh, but . . .” She paused as he carried her to set her by their campfire. How could she tell him? Should she tell him?

  “But what?” He was staring at her now, his face puzzled. “You surprise me, Willow, you don’t seem pleased.”

  Of course he thought it was his, even though he hadn’t touched her since this whole journey had begun. Her mind raced, wondering what was the right thing to do now that she had made such a mess of everything? “Bear . . .”

  He was waiting, his rugged face puzzled.

  Willow took a deep breath, looking around. It was almost dark and their campsite was isolated. Now she saw Raven coming from the horse herd.

  “Hey, you two, were there any fish in that river?”

  Bear grinned at his brother. “We’ve got exciting news,” he said, “something that makes this whole tragedy worthwhile.”

  “What?” Raven looked from one to the other.

  She didn’t look at either of them for a moment. “I-I’m expecting a baby.”

  “Does that foretell good luck?” Bear said to his brother. “A little warrior.”

  She looked up then. In the firelight, she stared into Raven’s eyes. His face had gone pale and guilt mixed with happiness in his dark eyes. He had to begin twice to speak. “That-that is good news, Brother.”

  “What is wrong with you two?” Bear asked, staring from one to the other.

  Willow looked up at him, licked her lips, trying to think of something to say. She couldn’t bring herself to lie to him but she loved him too much to hurt him.

  A shadow crossed Bear’s features in the firelight. He frowned as if he didn’t like the thought that had just entered his mind, then shook his head as if to deny it. “No,” he said, “no, tell me that couldn’t be.”

  A long, loud silence. It was so still, the noise of a stick toppling in the campfire, sending a shower of sparks into the darkness seemed loud indeed.

  “Bear,” Raven began, “it wasn’t her fault. No one expected to live through the night.”

  She saw the look in
Bear’s eyes; first horrified realization, then hurt, then a fury more terrible than she had ever seen.

  “We-we thought you were dead,” she began.

  Bear screamed in a way she had never heard; a cross between pain and fury. Then he grabbed Raven by the throat, picking him up, shaking him. “My beloved brother!” he snarled. “My trusted woman!”

  “Oh, Bear, please!” She was trying to drag him away from Raven, who didn’t even attempt to defend himself. “Don’t kill him; listen to me, please listen!”

  A crowd was gathering, drawn by the noise as the two men fought.

  Bear shook Willow off, his great strength slamming his brother against the ground. “For this, you coward, I save your life! So you could dishonor yourself and my woman!”

  He was going to kill Raven, she was certain of it, and after his anger cooled, he would hate himself forever. She didn’t even care if he turned his anger and his hurt on her, but she must not let him murder his brother. She turned and appealed to Looking Glass who had run up. “Please!”

  “Enough!” the chief thundered. “Enough of this!”

  Bear seemed to come to his senses, turned loose of his brother’s throat, stepped backward, breathing heavy.

  Raven got to his feet, rubbing his neck, choking and coughing.

  Looking Glass’s face turned dark with anger. “We do not have enough trouble without brothers attempting to kill each other? Shame! Shame for putting your own passions ahead of the needs of your desperate people!”

  The two men hung their heads and did not look at anyone. Looking Glass’s words echoed loud in the silence as others gathered to watch and listen. Willow felt her face burn at the brothers’ humiliation. Neither of them said anything in their own defense.

  “If you are both still alive when we complete this journey,” Looking Glass said, “then you can fuss over the ownership of this white woman.”

  “I am not white!” Willow said without thinking. “I am one of the people.”

  “Are you now?” the fierce chief’s eyes burned into her like dark fires. “We will see finally if you earn that right to be of the heart’s own blood. Enough!” He made a gesture of dismissal, turned and strode away.

  Willow couldn’t look at either of the two brothers. The crowd began to disperse. Without another word, Bear turned and walked away.

  Raven still rubbed his neck. “Oh, Willow, are you all right?”

  She began to cry. “We’ve hurt him; and we never meant to!”

  Raven sighed and shook his head. “I take full responsibility, as a warrior, I shouldn’t have let it happen. I am sorry I brought all this trouble to you, Willow. I would have been honorable, told him when he first came back what had happened, but I wanted to protect you.”

  She turned and looked after Bear who had disappeared over a rise. “I thought to keep him from ever knowing; not wanting to bring trouble between two brothers, but then . . .” She stared down at her body.

  Raven asked. “Is it—is it true?”

  She only nodded, not looking at him. “That one time.”

  Raven stood up, squared his shoulders. “What I have done is dishonorable and I don’t ever expect my brother to forgive me; but he loves you more than anything, Willow, I think he will forgive you someday.”

  She had cried herself out. Like the people, her sorrow was too deep for tears. “I have no idea what will happen now, Raven.”

  “Looking Glass is right; the tribe needs every warrior it has for the next several weeks,” Raven said and he sounded resigned to his tragedy. “Once we make it to Canada, I will go away. Perhaps then he will forgive and forget.” He started to walk away, paused, then looked down at her. “One thing I have to know, Willow.”

  “Yes?” She looked up at him, so tall and handsome; so much like his brother.

  “Did you—could you have ever cared for me, even a little?”

  He loved her perhaps as much as Bear did, she thought, but she could never love another man as she loved Bear. “If Bear hadn’t returned, maybe we could have made a future together.”

  “Thank you for that. The rest of this journey, I’ll try to stay out of his way; he realizes that our problems are not as important as the tribe’s and a great warrior always puts everyone else’s welfare ahead of his own.”

  “Oh, Raven, what will you do?”

  He didn’t answer, his dark eyes tragic and soft. He had loved her more than life itself and it hadn’t been enough; her heart belonged to only one man and always would, whether Bear loved her or not.

  Willow wondered how this all could have occurred just when it looked like she and Bear might finally find happiness together. If only she were expecting her beloved’s child instead of his brother’s. She didn’t know what would happen tomorrow; she wasn’t even sure she cared anymore except that she knew her people were all important, she must help them in every way she could to reach Canada.

  She looked into Raven’s eyes and knew that when the tribe reached safety, Raven would go away forever; it was the only thing he could do. Willow was also certain that Bear would never want to see her again. She had betrayed his love, although she hadn’t meant to. She was going to lose them both; well, perhaps it was only a just punishment. What would happen next week or next month, she couldn’t be sure. Death and destruction were haunting the Nez Perce as they moved. None of them might live long enough to reach Canada!

  Twenty-five

  Willow did not sleep that night. Once she walked out on the prairie and saw Bear sitting alone, staring off into the distance, but she dare not approach him. Toward dawn, he returned to camp, began to pack their things. She felt too sad to even care if he took his revenge against her; she had hurt him badly with her betrayal and she knew it. When she came over to him, he turned his cold, remote face away from her.

  “Bear, give me a chance to explain.”

  “There is nothing to say,” he answered coldly, “your swollen belly says it all.”

  She began to cry softly and it tore at his heart, but he hardened himself to keep from taking her in his arms and holding her close to comfort her. She had let his brother make love to her. And Raven; what kind of bad luck had he brought down by breaking this ancient warriors’ taboo?

  “Please, Bear, hear me—”

  “You have nothing to say that I want to hear.” He snapped. “Our family is disgraced by this brawl and disagreement before the whole camp.

  “Don’t hurt Raven,” she begged, “I want to explain—”

  “I wouldn’t dirty my hands on him,” Bear snapped. “He is without honor, a thief stealing from another warrior who is off fighting to protect the tribe.” He walked away then, closing his ears and heart to the woman he loved. He had to walk away to keep from hearing her sobs, to stop himself from returning to take her in his arms. He must be a fool because he still loved her so. His hurt was far deeper than his anger now, but he had made his decision. It was all important that the people get to Canada, and Bear would sacrifice his life if need be to see that they made it. For the next few days, Bear would concentrate only on that and try not to imagine his woman in the arms of his traitorous brother.

  Yet in spite of everything, Bear still loved them both. No, he thought bitterly, he would not stand in their way. Bear’s return had created problems for a couple who had already made plans that didn’t include him. Once they reached safety, Bear intended to go away. He didn’t know or care where, as long as he didn’t have to see Willow everyday and watch his brother smile with pride as her belly swelled with Raven’s son.

  Bear didn’t tell Raven all this, he only told him coldly that they had nothing more to say to each other; that they would straighten it out once they crossed the border.

  “Bear, it wasn’t her fault,” Raven argued, “we were both grief-stricken, we thought you were dead.”

  “You acted without honor,” Bear snapped, “and to think I had faith in you; that someday you would make me proud. I wish now I had let that grizz
ly tear you to pieces!”

  Raven started as if Bear had hit him hard across the face. “I’ve spent my life trying to live up to you,” Raven acknowledged in a shamed whisper. “Yes, in a moment of weakness, I took what wasn’t mine. If you can’t forgive me, brother, at least forgive her; she loves you so.”

  “So she shows it by spreading her thighs for my handsome brother.” He had not known anything could hurt as he was hurting now, not even when the grizzly had torn his flesh or the many times he had been wounded in battle. “We have nothing to say to each other,” Bear said coldly. “It is going to be all we can do to get the people to Canada, after that, we will be finished forever.”

  He turned and strode away, his insides hurting as if he’d had a burning stick rammed into his chest where his heart used to beat. Bear could only be thankful that there were so many challenges and problems ahead in the next few weeks. He knew he would not have time to even think about what had happened. He did not want to imagine Willow in his brother’s arms; Raven kissing her while his hands caressed her breasts and he lay on her soft belly, putting his son in her. No doubt at the very moment his brother did that, Bear was in a stockade cell, being tortured to protect the secrets of the tribal gold.

  He helped get the tribe on the move early that morning, ignoring both Raven and Willow as much as possible, speaking to them only when he had to.

  They passed through the Judith Basin and, on September 23, reached the Missouri River opposite a steamboat freight depot at Cow Island. By now, the Nez Perce were desperate enough to attack the depot, fighting the few soldiers and freighters there to get food, blankets, and ammunition. Thus resupplied and their failing hope rekindled, they turned again toward the north. Only another hundred miles or so, they told one another as more old ones and children died. Again, they fought off freighters to steal a few wagon loads of goods and drove off a small unit of soldiers who had crossed their trail from Fort Benton. Nothing mattered anymore but crossing into Canada, saving the few hundred people; all that was left of the more than seven hundred who had begun this march more than a thousand miles ago. They had paid dearly, leaving a trail of dead and blood-soaked ground as they fought their way against impossible odds.