Rebecca was ensnared by her thoughts. Was it wicked to love and desire two men at the same time? Had she really told Windrider she would marry him if things didn’t work out with Bright Arrow and his people? How could she behave so wantonly when she was bound to another man? She truly loved Bright Arrow, but she was enchanted by Windrider. He and his offer were so tempting, so encouraging, so timely. And Bright Arrow was making no attempt to hold on to her. She hadn’t shared his life in far too long. Was it so wrong to plan for the inevitable? She knew now that Windrider was sincere about his amorous feelings. Her doubts and suspicions had been wrong.
Neither woman noticed the Sioux warrior who had witnessed the romantic scene between Windrider and Rebecca. He stealthily slipped into the trees. He had much work and planning to do…
Chapter Eight
A few days later, the camp was preparing for a great feast to be held that night. Chief Yellow Robe’s son, Little Crow, had returned from his vision quest. A few days earlier, he had entered the sweat lodge to purify himself and, afterward, he had rubbed his body with sage leaves. Wearing only his breechclout and moccasins, he had gone to a secluded hilltop to pray and fast for days, until his quest succeeded. The medicine chief had gone with him, to call on the spirits and to watch over the boy from a distance. This was Little Crow’s initiation into manhood. The fifteen-year-old brave had already proven himself as a hunter. It was time for him to begin his training as a warrior.
After three days of praying and fasting, Little Crow had returned this morning. He had eaten a light meal to refresh himself, then he had bathed in the river and donned his father’s finest robe for the ceremony tonight. Many warriors had hunted to supply game for Chief Yellow Robe on this momentous occasion. Many women had worked hard and long to prepare food to offer to their chief. It was the custom for the father of the boy involved to give presents to chosen warriors. That afternoon, he made his rounds doing just that. Chief Yellow Robe gave Windrider an exquisitely carved prayer pipe, and his last gesture was to give Bright Arrow a swift and agile pinto.
The feast began at dusk. Food and drink were abundant. Wine had been made from buffalo berries and chokecherries. There were pones dotted with bits of dried fruit and berries, and a wide selection of meat and vegetables. The men sat in circles around a large campfire in the center of the village. They talked and ate, then passed around a ceremonial pipe. The women and children ate their meals, then the women cleared away the remains of the feast. Small children were put to bed, with older girls watching over the babies. The women stood behind the men, observing the ritual.
Music from kettle drums, eagle-bone whistles, and gord rattlers filled the night air. There was dancing by warriors, then women, then the men and women simultaneously. Prayers were sent skyward to the Great Spirit. Since this was Little Crow’s special night, no other warrior’s coups were chanted.
Little Crow claimed the center of the ring and told of his experiences on the lonely hilltop. He said he would no longer be called Little Crow; that child’s name would be discarded. He said the Great Mystery had appeared to him as a large, black bird. The bird had told him that he was a man now; he was a little crow who had become a big crow. He was told the crow could move as secretly as the night, sounding warnings when danger was near. The crow had no fear of birds larger than himself; he could chase and pester eagles and hawks until they flew away. The crow was difficult to discourage or to trick. He said that Grandfather wished him to take the name Big Crow. With that announcement, the ceremony ended.
Rebecca was bewildered when Bright Arrow approached her, insisting they take a walk alone. When she mentioned the children, he told her Kajihah had agreed to look after them until they returned. There was something in his expression and tone which piqued her curiosity. She detected a quiet seriousness emanating from him tonight that was neither fatigue nor a loss of spirit. It was grave determination.
He had to be feeling better about himself. She knew he had slain an elk for the feast tonight, and he had not come in last during the footrace this morning! During practice yesterday, she had secretly observed the warriors. Bright Arrow’s lance had struck near its mark almost every time, and his arrows had come amazingly close to the heart of the target on nearly every unleashing. In wrestling, it had required longer for the Cheyenne warrior to best him. Just as evident to her was the fact that his waist had narrowed and hardened considerably since they had left their cabin. She knew that he spent hours in the clearing lifting and tossing heavy rocks to increase his strength and to firm his arm and shoulder muscles. She knew he had been leaving camp at dusk to run around the entire camp several times to build up his lung power and to tone his leg muscles. And she had learned of the trick taught him by White Antelope; he would chase a rabbit who was trapped in a small canyon. The creature’s rapid changes in speed and direction sharpened and honed Bright Arrow’s agility, alertness, vision, and quickness.
They hadn’t been alone in weeks, and she wondered why he was demanding privacy tonight. Maybe he was just being considerate of Windrider, attempting to give him time alone with his two wives.
The thought of him made her shiver. She already feared she had given Windrider her promise of marriage because she had been afraid of facing the unknown. She actually believed the Sioux would not allow her to marry Bright Arrow or to live with him. He had to return home, even if it meant without her. She feared she was losing everything. She had reached out to Windrider to have something real and stable to hold on to during her turmoil and, though she did find him attractive and compelling, she did not love him. He did inspire passion in her, but there were good reasons. She was vulnerable, lonely, miserable, afraid, and had been untouched for months. Those were the things which made her susceptible to Windrider, those and Bright Arrow’s romantic indifference.
It was time she was honest with herself. How could Windrider or any other man ever take Bright Arrow’s place in her heart and life? It wasn’t Windrider she wanted—it was Bright Arrow as he had been long ago. Did it matter if they weren’t wed? Only a little. In her heart and mind, she was married to him. She loved him and she needed him. Why did he continue to hold her at such a distance? Was he also afraid of his tribe’s imminent demands on him? Was he torn apart by the choice that would soon face him? They could have so little time left together. Why was he wasting it? Why wasn’t she making it special? If the demand to sacrifice her was issued, he would be forced to accept it. Otherwise, he would destroy himself, their love, their dreams, and their peace. Didn’t he see how much she needed his love, his touch, his solace, this last time with him?
They had walked quite a distance in the refreshing forest, in total silence. When Bright Arrow halted in a small clearing, the thought-entranced Rebecca kept moving. He called her name and reached for her arm to stop her. As she turned and looked up at him, brilliant moonlight illuminated his bronze frame. It danced off the silver arrow on his necklace. It gleamed on his ebony hair and glimmered in his midnight eyes as he glanced up at it. Rebecca’s gaze followed his, to stare at the intimidating full moon.
His voice was deep and rich as he spoke. “Hunwi’s face is as bold this night as the first night we joined. Perhaps she seeks to remind us of that night and many others which have passed between us.”
Her heart lurched madly at those stirring words. No matter how skilled Windrider was with kisses and caresses, he did not hold a spark to the blazing power of Bright Arrow’s words or nearness. She was crushed when he instantly changed the subject. His tone and gaze were mellow as he reminisced. As he leaned against an oblong rock that came to his waist, she listened intently to his words, for he seemed to have a great need to release his tormenting ghosts.
“I remember the feast my father gave when I became a man. When I was small, he would take me into the forest to practice with my bow and arrow. I would shoot at pinecones and large leaves. He would mark a place on a tree, and I would fire until I hit it. When I could strike the target on each t
ry, he taught me how to track small game. It was many winters before I could bring down large deer or swiftly moving creatures. He showed me the animals’ markings on trees and on the earth. I could find the territory of bears or deer by reading their marks. Now, my father teaches his second son such things.”
There was sadness, but no jealousy, in his voice. He went on. “When I was fourteen winters old, I was this tall,” he remarked, placing his hand across his nose to indicate almost six feet. “I was strong and swift. No Oglala brave could best me in fighting or shooting. No animal could hide from my keen eyes and skills. I went into the sweat lodge. I sat naked before Grandfather, inhaling his breath in the white clouds. All fear and evil left my body. I dried myself with sweet sage. I went into the hills with Mind-Who-Roams, our medicine chief. Many say he is a powerful man who can see into the new sun and moon. Mind-Who-Roams called on the Great Mystery to visit me.”
He inhaled deeply, then released the breath. “I could not eat or sleep for many days. I sat on a white buffalo mat with my legs crossed and my back straight. I faced the direction where the sun awakens, blowing on my eagle-bone whistle to let Grandfather know where to find me in the dark.-Mind-Who-Roams put four cottonwood sticks into Mother Earth. He joined them with rawhide. He hung sacred grasses and herbs on the rawhide. I was not to step outside those boundaries until my quest was over. Mind-Who-Roams went down the hill to wait for me. A seeker of visions must be alone,” he explained, and Rebecca did not interrupt.
“I sat for many passings of the sun and moon. I was afraid. I did not fear dying or suffering; I feared I was unworthy of Grandfather’s words and signs. I knew when I left that hill, I would become a warrior. I would train to be the new chief of my people. I tried to clear my mind to allow only Grandfather’s voice to be there. Many thoughts came to me. I tried to imagine my father sitting on a hill long ago, seeking his first vision and new name. I tried to envision my grandfather, Running Wolf, battling hunger and doubts. I prayed for Wakantanka to show me how to become a great man as were Gray Eagle and Running Wolf. On my last night on the hill, a strange thing happened. I was dizzy from lack of food and sleep. I was thirsty. The moon was full that night,” he stated, as if revealing some vital secret.
“As I watched Hunwi’s face, it became a large arrowhead. It was so shiny that my eyes hurt and burned to stare at it. Even so, I could not look away. The bright arrow held great magic and power. I heard a voice speak inside my head. It said the arrow would protect my people. It said an arrow was straight and true; it was swift and accurate; it could slay enemies. It said the arrow could point the way to peace for my people. It said the brightness of the silver arrow could light a path for my people during days of darkness. It said I was the arrow, and greatness for my people was my target. Then the arrow was gone and Hunwi’s face was there once more. I called to Mind-Who-Roams and told him of the vision. He said I should take the name Bright Arrow. He said the moon and night powers would give me prowess to defeat enemies. We returned to my village. I told the council of my vision. My father was happy. He gave a great feast to celebrate my new name and manhood. I became a warrior in less moons than my father or grandfather. Why did the vision lie, Rebecca? Why did Wakantanka desert me when I needed his help and guidance? I have no great power and magic. I am not the light to guide my people.”
Rebecca refuted softly, “You do have great power and magic, Bright Arrow. The Great Spirit didn’t betray you or desert you; you walked away from your destiny. You listened to what you wanted, not to what He was telling you. You never asked Him to guide your decision about me, did you?” His guilty look spoke louder than any words could. “Your vision didn’t lie to you; you did become a great warrior. Many followed your lead. You could chant numberless coups. Have you forgotten you earned enough feathers to make a war bonnet? Look inside your parfleche; it is filled with feathers with notches and painted spots to tell of your many deeds. What enemy didn’t fear and envy you? What friend didn’t respect and love you? What white man or bluecoat hasn’t heard and trembled at the name of Bright Arrow? The vision told you what to do; you didn’t follow its direction. You found me, and I changed your life. I ruined it, Bright Arrow. If you hadn’t met me, you would be with your people. You would be wed to an Indian girl. You would become the new chief. My magic was evil; it weakened you. I made you as much my slave as I was yours. It’s my fault. I stole you from your fate. I never meant to harm you. I’m truly sorry, Bright Arrow,” she whispered hoarsely.
When he started to speak, she pressed her hand over his lips. In a strained voice, she told him, “Your life isn’t over, Bright Arrow. It isn’t too late to follow your vision and the will of the Great Spirit. Each day I see you becoming the way you were long ago. Soon, all will know that Bright Arrow has returned to his lands and people. Again they will fear and envy you because of your great prowess. No one will dare to challenge you or laugh at you. No woman will turn away her head when you pass. Your tribe will forgive you; they’ll forget your defiance. Perhaps I was given to you as a test, a way to strike you to the earth on your knees, to force you to rise taller and stronger than before. You have learned many lessons from me; it is time for your teacher to release you. It’s time for the vision to become real, Bright Arrow. You must return to your people, to your rightful destiny. You must prove you are the light and power to guide them. You must prove that only you can lead them. Can’t you feel the Great Spirit tugging at your heart with the truth? Can’t you feel Him drawing your feet to your lands? Long ago, you defied your fate and chose me; we’ve had many years together. It’s time you obey your vision and choose your people over me. Don’t you see, Bright Arrow? You can’t have both. There’s an invisible barrier between our peoples; we’ve tried to ignore it, to demolish it. It’s too strong and evil. If I do not send you home, I will lose you anyway. We cannot avoid your destiny. We cannot share a life-circle and be happy,” she admitted painfully. She had witnessed his downfall, then his rebirth. She couldn’t help but feel she was bad for him. Wasn’t it her duty to free him, to save him from her cruel love?
Bright Arrow pulled her into his arms, pressing her cheek against his thudding heart. “To make such sacrifices, your love is as large and strong as a mountain. As long as there is breath in our bodies, there is hope for us, Rebecca. With all my heart, I believe the Great Spirit sent you to me. I do not understand why my people cannot see this truth. They cannot resist it forever. There is a reason why I was banished. Just as there is a reason why I must return.” His voice softened as he said, “You are not evil. You did not change my life; you changed my heart. You taught me love and sharing and tenderness. I do not hear the Great Spirit telling me to toss you aside. If I had you all my life, it would not be enough time. I cannot choose between my love and my destiny, for surely they are one. Each night I pray the Great Spirit has opened their eyes.”
“And if He has not? If He never will? What if you are wrong, Bright Arrow? What if it is you who resists the truth?” she debated dejectedly. Her arms went under his and looped around his shoulders as she snuggled against him.
“How does a man choose between sunlight and moonlight? How does he choose between living and existing? How does he choose between his heart and his head? How does he choose between good and good, between right and right?” he asked.
“You did years ago, Bright Arrow, and look what it did to you, to us. As long as I stand between you and your fate, it does not matter what we think or feel. It’s time we admit that to ourselves and each other. I love you and I need you. But more, I need you to be whole again. I need you to be happy. I need you to stand tall and proud.” She lifted her head to look up at him as she said, “I need you to return to your life-circle, even if I must lose you.”
Bright Arrow gazed down at her. He had known she would make such a sacrifice for him. He didn’t want to think about such things tonight. “This moon, all I need is you,” he murmured in a heavy voice.
“I need you, too,” she
responded. “It’s been terrible without you. We could have so little time left together.”
Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to an expanse of thick grass and, kneeling, he gently placed her on the soft covering. For a time, he was content to visually explore her face in the moonlight. Then slowly he came forward until his body was touching hers. Reaching out his hand, he fondled her cheek, then ran his fingers through her silky hair. The distance between them disappeared as his mouth closed over hers.
Bright Arrow’s lips deftly and hungrily captured Rebecca’s. It had been so long since they had touched with passion searing their flesh. The last time, both had been left frustrated and despondent. In this heady moment, nothing and no one else existed. It was a time for total possession, for complete giving and taking and sharing. Their hearts pleaded and their desires soared.
The Sioux warrior covered her face with kisses, then rained them down her throat. Her eager fingers untied the fastenings of her dress and slid it from her shoulders to expose her satiny flesh to his greedy senses. His mouth explored the twin peaks he uncovered, teasing and stimulating each one. She groaned as he kindled and fanned her smoldering passions and didn’t stop him when he removed her clothes; instead, she shifted to assist him. Quickly, his buckskin pants and his moccasins joined the pile of clothing beside them. Hungrily he drew her into his possessive embrace, and they became lost in their private haven. Lying upon the earth, their bodies entwined, they were oblivious to its dewy surface and their surroundings.
His experienced hands tantalized her quivering flesh, mutely demanding her response to his loving assault. Slowly one hand drifted over her flat stomach, causing it to tighten momentarily. It sought another peak to caress, driving her mindless with achingly sweet sensations. Their passionate needs too great to be restrained any longer, he eased between her parted thighs, slipping smoothly and gently into her moist paradise to explore, conquer, and claim it once again. When he entered her, she arched upward, willingly accepting his full length. His skillful movements within her created blissful sensations she had long been denied.
Stolen Ecstasy Page 15
