The absurdity of her last words struck her, and she burst out laughing. Powchutu stared at her, soon realizing she was getting hysterical. “Rescued!” She laughed and cried at the same time. “Some joke, isn’t it? I stood a better chance of winning his acceptance before than I do now. He knows no mercy. They should have left me in his camp or let me die, then everyone would be happy and satisfied.”
Powchutu considered Gray Eagle his enemy because of the severe pain he had inflicted on Alisha. But the half-breed knew Alisha would have no choice in her fate. He swallowed his hatred because of his unselfish love for the green-eyed white girl.
“Alisha, you have forgotten something very important. He did not kill you. He must not have wished your death. He was having you doctored.” He hoped his argument would soothe her, but it did not.
“Only so that he could have the pleasure of hurting me again, Powchutu. Such a powerful warrior wouldn’t allow death to rescue his most precious captive,” she bitterly accused.
“Alisha, he spared your life many times. You kept on taunting him and disobeying him. What else could he do except punish you. He is the chief’s son. He cannot show weakness before his people. Think back! You know that he treated you very differently in private. You just kept on pushing him into a comer. You wanted him to treat you as he would an Indian girl. He cannot. Face this truth and obey him in public. I’ve told you why he attacked your fortress. I’ve also told you why he killed those other men brought to his camp. Right or wrong, he did have good reasons. Nearly every punishment he gave you was to teach you some vital lesson about him and his ways. Remember this; I beg you for your own sake.”
Their eyes focused and spoke without words. All of her old anguish resurfaced to frighten her anew. There had been times when. she had allowed herself to forget that they were enemies. There had been times when she had forgiven him of terrible, but understandable, things when he had not asked for or wanted forgiveness. She had found reasons to justify his hatred and cruelty. Worst of all, she had foolishly allowed herself to fall more deeply and strongly in love with him. She had created a beautiful dream world for the two of them, forgetting that it was only an illusion.
But the scene outside was not an illusion; the man waiting for her was all too real and too deadly. Her dream had never called for her sacrifice or her disgrace. She had been ensnared in the trap of blind love and trust, with the hope that his love would be returned to her someday. Her illusions painfully shattered and slashed mercilessly at her tender heart. Tears welled in her eyes, and she bravely fought to control them.
Powchutu pulled her into his embrace to comfort her, knowing their time was running out. She leaned back and looked up into his eyes. She pleaded, “Please don’t let him take me back, Powchutu. You are the only one who can help me. You are my only hope.”
Her words knifed at his heart, for she was mistaken. He crushed her to his broad chest and held her tightly and possessively. “I would give anything to save you, my love. If I tried to stop them from sending you away, they would be only too happy to kill me and still send you to him. You would only feel guilt at my useless death. I cannot fight both sides, Alisha. There are too many of them. But, I will promise to find some way to help you. I will get you away from here and away from all of them. Somehow I will help you. Very soon . . .”
Alisha gazed up into his handsome features, knowing that he spoke the truth. Seeing the regret and pain in his face, she whispered, “I’m truly sorry, Powchutu. This is one time that no one can help me, not even you. But your friendship and promise will make it easier for me to get through this day.” She smiled bravely into his sad, troubled eyes and kissed him lightly upon his lips.
He tenderly cupped her face between his hands and gazed lovingly into her emerald eyes. He spoke to her without words, but she misread his real meaning. She did not realize that Powchutu was speaking of love, the love of a man for a woman, not the love of a friend for a friend. That first kiss from her had opened up the flood-gates which he had kept secured for a long time. He could not deny himself at least one real kiss from her, one to seal his promise to her. He leaned forward and kissed her full upon the mouth.
Alisha did not pull away or refuse his kiss. It was a kiss which shared love, promise, and hope. It was gentle and warm in the giving and the taking. Afterwards, he hugged her fiercely once more as he whispered into her ear, “Remember, I will come for you, little heart. Do all he says, and he will not harm you.”
She listened to his words “all he says,” then trembled. Suddenly, she could not decide what she feared more—the return to his cruelty, or the return to his arms. She prayed Powchutu’s promise would give her the courage and strength to endure.
“Come, Alisha, let’s go to the general.”
Alisha hesitated, then went with Powchutu.
Like wildfire, gossip had spread the news around the fort. The word was out that Gray Eagle had come for his woman and that he would attack if she were not promptly sent out to him. From their point of view, the white settlers could not understand why she was still in the fort, endangering their lives and property.
As Alisha and Powchutu walked toward the general’s office, the people gaped at them in open hostility. Here was the girl responsible for their new predicament, along with her Indian buddy. They did not stop to think that here was the girl that they had raided Gray Eagle’s camp to rescue; that the soldiers had killed and maimed women, children, and old people in that raid; that the soldiers had burned and destroyed half of his village; that Alisha had been unconscious during her rescue; and that she was new to this land and knew nothing of the mutual hatred between the white man and Indian.
Their cold, hard stares caused her to slightly falter. Powchutu made the innocent mistake of grasping her elbow for support; this physical contact between them increased the crowd’s anger. Here was the girl who had publicly chosen a half-breed scout over a dashing, wealthy, white lieutenant. The malice and animosity filled the air, seeming to choke off the oxygen around them. Their stinging words pelted her in the face like a winter rain, and she shivered at their harshness.
Some of the men hurled crude insults and wild threats at her. Soon, others from the crowd joined in on the cruel deriding. “Go back to your Injun lover, slut!” “We don’t want no Injun squaws here!” “Tie her up and toss her out on that arse he’s so fond of!” “We ain’t gonna die for no white whore!” “Harlot! Bloody, red-loving harlot!” The taunting words and vulgar gestures were mercilessly flung at her. Then, there were others who begged her to sacrifice herself for them. They actually pleaded with her to willingly go back to the cruel savage so their consciences would not have to suffer the guilt and shame of forcing her to do so. They made cruel, but earnest, attempts to entreat her to spare them from Gray Eagle’s wrath, and appealed to her mercy. Alisha could hardly believe her eyes and ears.
Alisha somehow found the strength to get to the general’s office, after what seemed an eternity. Powchutu was blazing in fury at the mob. He could literally have killed every one of them and felt nothing but satisfaction. His muscles and nerves were as taut as a new bowstring. If one of those men had dared to touch her in any way, he would have cut him down right in his tracks.
Cowards! he fumed. I could kill them all . . .
Alisha forced a weak smile to her trembling lips. She softly said, “It doesn’t matter anymore, Powchutu. They’re only proving to me that this is necessary. I couldn’t stay here now, even if they forced me. I’m the only one around that they can vent their fears upon. They don’t dare do it to Gray Eagle, so they choose the available target—me. Because of his demand for my return, I symbolize his power. Who knows? Maybe they’re right; maybe I will be better off with him, dead or alive. For certain, he is no more cruel than they are . . .”
Her last ray of hope had vanished, for she already knew the outcome of the upcoming meeting. The general’s door was opened and they slipped inside. From the looks on the men’s faces, they
were all aware of the events outside. General Galt tried to avoid the eyes of the girl standing before his desk. He got up and moved about to ease his tension. He was trying to decide how to begin this unpleasant task.
Finding none, he plunged right in, “I suppose Powchutu has filled you in on our crisis here?”
Knowing the length of time that had elapsed, she knew that it would be foolish to deny his words. She simply nodded yes, but did not speak. He scanned her ashen face with its somber green eyes which were filled with so much pain that even he could recognize it. Damn! he cursed to himself. She was not going to make this any easier for him.
He fought to ignore the guilt and shame of what he was about to do. At least he would not have to balk Jeffery Gordon or Martha Philsey this time; both were certain to go along with his decision. He forced himself to believe that her appearance was colored by her fear of those people outside, not of her return to Gray Eagle. He would not permit himself to ponder the fact that her expression bespoke anything but happiness at the warrior’s arrival.
Damn all women with innocent green eyes and angelic faces! the general silently swore. It’s too late to change my mind. You made your bed, now lie in it! Willing or not, guilty or innocent, he wants her back, and I haven’t got the power to stop him. Within moments, the general had rationalized his decision to force Alisha’s return to Gray Eagle.
He pointedly asked her with cold bluntness, “What do you think we should do about this demand, Miss Williams? You’ve lived with him. Will he do as he says? Could he want you back so badly that he would attack this fort?” His words carried double meanings, and she caught both. He wanted her to shoulder the blame for his decision by suggesting the only possible solution. He was also reminding her that she had already been his captive.
She swallowed hard, then spoke softly, “Why do you ask me, Sir? You are in command here. The final decision is yours, and I am not qualified to make any military suggestions. I am positive that you all know him far better than I ever could. As you know, I have only been in this wild country for a short time; and briefly at Fort Pierre. I do not know that much about your people or his. And I cannot venture a guess as to what his plans are. I have only seen and known the one side of him—the brutal, vindictive warrior. He is the man who killed my people and who enslaved me. His honor and truthfulness were not a part of this side of his nature. He never made promises to me, only threats. We did not talk with each other, so I do not know if he keeps his word or not. I am certain that you have been enemies for a very long time. I am also certain that you must be aware of the personality of your worst enemy. So, why do you ask me if he is truthful, or if he is serious in his threat?
“If you offer me your protection, you know what he has threatened to do. Just as you are aware of the outcome if you agree to his demands,” she simply stated the facts. “Which is easier to accept, my life and freedom here, or my slavery and death in his camp? As for wanting me back so badly, I cannot imagine why he would want a defiant runaway slave returned to him. I should think it is to spite me and to humiliate you.”
She boldly met Galt’s stare.
General Galt raged at her brazen words. He spit the tip of his smelly cigar into the cracked bowl on his dusty desk. He inhaled deeply and met her steady gaze. “I have hopes this Gray Eagle won’t harm you this time. One thing I know for sure, those people out there won’t stand for my giving you sanction here at the cost of their lives. I have no doubts that he will carry out his threat if you remain in here. I’m afraid I have no choice but to turn you over to him.”
There, it was said and done! He waited for any of his officers to disagree or to plead her case, but none did. The only officer who would dare to meet her gaze was Jeffery. His bright blue eyes were filled with triumph and spite. Alisha should not have been surprised at his attitude, for he had revealed his true nature to her. If it had not been for Powchutu’s interference, he would have ravished her beneath that large shade tree. She could imagine what kind of man could enjoy the suffering of another person; Jeffery was that kind of man. These Colonists were strange and violent people; she was certain that she would never understand them.
Her seeking gaze travelled the room once more. She wanted to make sure that not a single man would come to her defense; none did. The harshness of her dilemma hit Alisha. She tried to force herself to accept the inevitable.
Just above a whisper she stated, “You are all foolish dreamers. You cannot possibly believe for one moment that I will be safe with him. For what you have done to him and his camp, he will not be satisfied with my return. Did his capture of me last time prevent his total destruction of our fortress? No, because it was not Alisha he sought. Today, it is not Alisha that he seeks. He merely wishes to humiliate and taunt you before he comes for the men responsible for his dishonor, just like he did at my fortress. The last time, I did not pay for the crimes of my people against him. This time, I will not pay for your crimes against him.”
Alisha alertly noted the reaction her word “crimes” received; still, no one interrupted her. Their fidgeting told her that they wanted this meeting over with as quickly as possible. But she could not leave without speaking the truth.
The men were speechless. They had expected her to be tearful and submissive. They were unnerved and rankled by her comments. What was that old saying about a coward’s many deaths? The silence in the office was deafening.
She turned back to face the men in the room. “Are you gentlemen sitting there, waiting for me to offer myself as a martyr for you and this fort? I hope not, for I will never willingly agree to go to him. I have seen and felt his brutality and his hatred for the white man. I still carry the scars to prove it, in case you have forgotten. If you order me to leave, then I will not disobey your command. That would be futile and foolish. I would not give him the pleasure of watching you throw me to the wolves. I will not be a submissive martyr, but neither will I be humiliated by your public show of hatred for me. Never will I volunteer for a mission into Hell. All I can do is to place my safety and life in your ‘capable’ hands, General Galt.”
Hiram Galt nervously cleared his throat and voiced his predetermined conclusion. “I think it is best for all concerned if you’re sent back to him. The safety of this fort and its inhabitants depends upon it. I see no other choice. I am truly sorry, Miss Williams.”
“Then, you are ordering me to leave?”
The general nodded yes.
“This safety that you speak of does not include mine, does it?” she mockingly queried.
His angry, black scowl answered for him. Galt’s face flushed even redder with mounting guilt and fury. He pitifully argued, “If I had more men and supplies, Miss Williams, I would gladly offer you sanctuary here with us. And to Hell with what anyone thought! Please be more understanding of our position.” Damn! he fumed. I’ll be glad to get this over with . . .
Alisha turned to face Jeffery with a sweet, innocent smile. She asked, “Does this decision also include your approval, Jeffery?”
Lieutenant Jeffery Gordon boldly locked heated gazes with her. He was determined to punish Alisha because she would not become his mistress. He replied, “Go to your brave, Alisha, for that is where you belong now. You have proven that you prefer Indians to whites. There is no place for you here.”
Alisha went to stand before him. He stood up to face her. Her eyes searched his handsome, tanned features and piercing blue eyes for the secret to his real character. Speaking very softly she inquired, “If I agree to become your mistress, on your terms, will you still send me out to him?”
He had been observing her close scrutiny of him, mistaking her feelings and reasons. It was only natural for a woman to choose him over a savage. He assumed she was attracted to him.
For a moment, the lieutenant seriously pondered her question. He quickly realized that his answer would have to be no. How could a dead man enjoy her numerous charms? Besides, she was merely accepting him as a last resort, a fact
which stung his pride as deeply as her rejection had. After he had risked everything, including his life, to rescue her, she had publicly scorned him more than once. If only he could forget the sight of her nude body beneath that blanket in Gray Eagle’s teepee....
Gazing down into her emerald eyes, he was tempted to gladly fight the entire Indian nation to have her as his mistress. Yet, he instantly realized, Alisha’s eyes belied her taunt: it was not a real proposition. His face became a mask of livid rage; his body trembled with the force of his anger. He was furious at what she had jokingly offered to him, then contemptuously snatched away before his acceptance or refusal.
At the sight of his blind rage, Alisha leaned very closely to him and whispered for his ears alone, “One thing I know for certain, Jeffery, you are less than half the man he is, in every possible way . . .”
He clenched his hands into tight fists to keep from striking her, and Alisha turned to face Powchutu. “Since I have no personal belongings, I’m ready to leave, Powchutu.”
They walked out into the warm sunlight, leaving the room of officers staring after her and at each other in shame. The crowd was instantly aware of the outcome as the white girl and the half-breed made their way through the sullen group toward the front gates.
A hushed, almost reverent, silence settled over the inhabitants of Fort Pierre. There were embarrassed and malevolent stares focused on the stunning girl who was walking to her fate with head held high. Some were thinking that she was heading for a fate worse than death. Others scoffed that it could not be helped. Still others vowed that it was better she than they or theirs. And, some felt that she was getting just what she deserved because she did not share their Indian hatred.
Defiant Ecstasy Page 4
