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Grey Eagle: Savage Ecstasy Part 10

Grey Eagle: Savage Ecstasy - LightNovelsOnl.com

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He handed the reins of his horse to a young Oglala brave. He quickly covered the distance to his teepee. White Arrow had taken her to the palet and laid her down gently. He was stroking her hair as he spoke to her in his tongue, "Kokipi ikopa, Cante Cinstinna."

She held his other hand clasped between her two cold, trembling ones and continued to cry.

Gray Eagle entered without a sound, but White Arrow was instinctively aware of his presence. He puled his hand free from her grasp, stood up, and came over to him. He met Gray Eagle's gaze slightly uneasily. He related the events in the forest. He told him al about the trapper's attempted attack, the fight, and her warning which saved his life.

Gray Eagle listened in silence, then stressed, "Do not become too protective of 'my' winyan, my koda,"

too protective of 'my' winyan, my koda,"



White Arrow met his steady gaze in guilt and understanding. He replied, "She is yours, Wanmdi Hota. This I wil not forget. Were she not the winyan of my best koda, I would have finished what the wahmunkesa began. When the time comes that you must give her up, I wil trade anything I possess to have her." He turned and left Gray Eagle staring after him.

It was distressing to have his friend confirm his suspicions and fears. He did not like his friend's attraction for Lese. He walked over to her and stood gazing down at her with those dark, unreadable eyes. Sensing his eyes on her, she raised a distraught face to him. She s.h.i.+fted to a kneeling position, then lowered it again. He dropped to one knee before her and placed his hand under her tremulous chin. He raised her head until her jade eyes met his ebon ones. He slowly turned her head from side to side as he checked her injuries.

His blank expression and cool silence alarmed her. He pushed the neck of her dress over to view the bite White Arrow had spoken about. As he touched it, she winced in pain and began to cry.

She fought to control the fresh flood of tears. She tried to apologize for the trouble she had caused. "I'm sorry, Wanmdi Hota. It was al my fault. I walked too far away. He tried to ... to ..." More tears filed her eyes. "Wanhinkpe Ska might have been kiled. I would have been to blame, just like the other time with my people. I seem to cause trouble wherever I am."

Teardrops sparkled in those large, sad eyes and slid down her rosy cheeks. To her surprise, he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand and ran a finger lightly over her bruised lips. He went to get the water skin and came back to wash her face. She sat stil and get the water skin and came back to wash her face. She sat stil and silent under his ministrations. His eyes met and locked with her curious ones. He searched her features for signs of more than White Arrow had told him. But her clear, innocent look verified what he hoped to be true.

He pushed her down to the skins and closed her eyes with his fingertip. "Istinma, Cinstinna." She knew he told her to sleep, but the other word she did not know, even thought he had used it many times before. He stood up and left. She began to weep sadly, in need of his comfort and embrace, until sleep finaly came. Things returned to their normal pattern and the incident was presumably forgotten. But Alisha could never forget the leering way the trapper had looked at her, nor the brutal way he had tried to rape her. White men could be as savage as he was...

White Arrow could not forget how much he had wanted her, nor how hard it had been to stifle his urge to take her himself. He also recaled the way she had clung to him for help and protection. I must have her, he decided, but only after she is mine...

Gray Eagle had been unable to forget Alisha's close cal with death and danger. Nor could he dismiss thoughts of the dangerous emotions growing in his friend's heart for his winyan. What if she had been kiled, taken prisoner by another, or raped? What would he have done? He could not bring himself to think about her death, but the other two thoughts sent him black with rage. How dare anyone try to take or harm what is mine! he raged. I would have tracked him down and slain him!

But what if it turned out to be his koda who stole her or her heart? He wondered what he would do if she turned to his friend for more than friends.h.i.+p, or his friend took more from her. Would his friend keep his word not to touch her, or would he be overcome friend keep his word not to touch her, or would he be overcome with her beauty also? Pride and honor were two of the most important things to a warrior. Surely his friend would not sacrifice either for a mere white slave. But his Lese was far more than a mere white slave, far more ... He hoped he would never be forced to face either of those two situations. He might kil his best friend for such an insult, and her also if she responded ... Confidently, he decided he would trust his koda's honor and love, and Lese's fear and love for him, to prevent anything like that ever happening. He would not even consider Wanhinkpe Ska's warnings and hints about his having to give her up one day soon.

The days marched on as this pattern of truce dropped back into place. He had not taken her for three nights after the incident. He had sensed her apprehension and fear, and sought to give her a few days to calm down. The first night he had taken her, she cried out in panic and fought him wildly. He had finaly managed to quieten her and incite her into submission to him. When it was over, she had refused to leave his embrace al night. She would cry out and toss restlessly in her sleep. Each time, he would comfort her, and she would sleep peacefuly again.

Her days slipped back into their schedule of regular tasks, ch.o.r.es and activities. But she could not seem to relax completely. She always worked in a pensive, tense mood while in or near the forest. A short time ago, Matu had returned to camp with the berries and greens they had gathered while she remained behind to gather the firewood.

She glanced around frequently as she worked, in fear of a similiar incident like the other day. She tried to calm her fears by talking to herself as she worked. You must forget what happened the other day. It's over. He can't hurt you ever again. Wanhinkpe the other day. It's over. He can't hurt you ever again. Wanhinkpe Ska kiled him... for you. Why doesn't Matu come back? Wanmdi Hota wouldn't like it if he knew I was alone. Just a little more wood, and I won't wait for her! I'l go back alone!

As she worked faster, trying to finish quickly, she had not noticed the wind was rising and the sky growing darker. It was so hot and humid today, and her thoughts were on a cool, relaxing swim in the stream. She was reflecting on the summer days she had spent with her father before she had returned to school in the fal. She had often gone swimming with him on many of those days. Suddenly, a loud crash rent the stil air, jarring her back to reality. She looked around for Matu who stil had not returned. She was completely alone. The wind picked up and gusted through the trees and gra.s.s. She ran out into the open field to see if she could catch a sight of Matu. Her braids swayed in the breeze. She had dropped the wood sling and covered her face as dazzling bolts of lightning zig-zagged across the gray sky. Thunder boomed and vibrated in the air. Rain began to pour down and she was scared. The heat was almost stifling and the feeling surrounding her awesome. She had been caught in a few storms, but none as violent as this one. There was power and intensity in this storm. The thunder sounded its warning to al who could hear. She was shaking in fear. She did not know which way to run as lightning struck a nearby tree and sent it cras.h.i.+ng to the ground. The storm seemed to cut her off from the vilage and surround her. She looked around in confusion about what to do.

Above the howling winds and peals of thunder, she heard her name, "Lese... Lese..."

Her heart lurched in joy. Wanmdi Hota! Overcome with joy and relief, she caled out, "Here! In the field ... Hurry, Wanmdi and relief, she caled out, "Here! In the field ... Hurry, Wanmdi Hota. Please hurry."

In a moment, he was at her side. She ran into his arms and hugged him tightly. His arms encircled her and pressed her close to his chest. When Matu had returned to the vilage alone, he knew she was stil in the forest. Matu had told him she had returned to bring the mni skins and wota while Alisha gathered the wood. She was going back to fetch her, but secretly hoped she would try to escape, or some il would befal her again.

Gray Eagle had scowled at her and said she was never to leave her alone again. He said he would go and bring her back this time.

The storm had broken in fury as they talked. He left to search for her. Alisha trembled and clung to him, burying her face on his chest. He puled her to the ground as other bolts flashed nearby and the storm's fury heightened. Her terror and fear increased. He covered her trembling lips with his and kissed her pa.s.sionately, trying to block out the raging of the storm and her fear. They clung together in the tal, wet gra.s.s and wildflowers. She did not know when her dress was pushed up above her waist and the breechcloth removed, but she was wel aware of the hunger he filed when he entered her.

The storm now raged inside and outside. Their unleashed pa.s.sions rivaled its very fury. Soon, they were oblivious to the bright lightning, the roaring thunder, and the rain pouring down on them. They were soaked, but al they felt was their heat and thirst for each other.

She responded to his lovemaking with such fierce, unbridled desire, he would be astounded later when he would reflect on it. They flamed their love and desire higher and higher until a final, They flamed their love and desire higher and higher until a final, explosive ecstasy was reached. The pounding in her ears and chest was far greater than the thunder.

As they lay spent in each other's arms, they returned to reality of the wind and rain. The storm had subsided slightly, but a gentle rain continued to fal. Laughing, they replaced and adjusted soaked clothes and started for the vilage.

She halted and exclaimed, "The wood!" She ran to retrieve the sling and came back to where he waited for her. He wished he could carry it for her this one time, but dared not. They entered the vilage unnoticed. Al the others were inside to avoid the storm and rain. He built a fire and they exchanged wet clothes for dry ones. She sat by the fire to dry her hair. When he looked over at her, she smiled serenely as if were the natural thing to do. Her eyes had a soft, happy glow.

The remainder of the day was spent inside. She napped as he sharpened his weapons. As he worked, he would occasionaly stop and study her sleeping features. Had her fear of the storm been responsible for her uncontroled submission to him? He recaled her pa.s.sionate yielding. She had offered no resistance, mentaly or physicaly, this time. He was aroused just recaling her wild, carefree behavior. Stubbornly, he refused to take her again so soon. It would not be wise to let her see how much and how often I desire her, he reasoned thoughtfuly. He smiled contentedly to himself at her slow, but a.s.sured, defeat to him. Life was becoming easy and relaxed with her. This both pleased and worried him greatly ... far too greatly, he mused.

Chapter Eight.

Morning arrived with a clear sky and a bright, warm sun. The peaceful, sleepy vilage began to stir and come to life almost immediately. Gentle rays of sunlight filtered down into the teepee from above. Birds were singing and chirping in the crisp, freshened surroundings. It was going to be a glorious day.

Gray Eagle and a few of his braves left to go hunting. The soft, damp earth made tracking game very easy and quick. They had been gone for a number of hours when loud whoops and yels pierced the stil air.

Alisha had finished most of her daily ch.o.r.es and was about to prepare their evening meal. The excitement drew her attention away from her task. She put the knife and meat down to go outside. She wondered what the hunters were bringing in to cause such a wild clamor. Perhaps something huge, dangerous or rare, she mused. She stepped outside into the dazzling sunlight, squinting momentarily to focus her eyes. The pounding of horses' hooves puled her line of vision to the right where the braves were charging into the center of camp in an uproar of dust and noise. Automaticaly, she halted and stared. Not only were the braves leading several horses laden with fresh game, but also two white trappers, as revealed by their clothing and appearance. The two prisoners were bound securely with their hands behind their backs. She quickly noted they were being puled forward by ropes tied around their waists leading to the horses laden with game. The pace of the horses forced the two men to a slow run to keep up. pace of the horses forced the two men to a slow run to keep up. One tripped and fel into the dust. The braves continued, alowing the man to be dragged along in the rocky dirt.

Her eyes franticaly scanned the group for a sight of Gray Eagle. Suddenly, he came from the rear of the group and moved forward with ease and confidence. She studied his tal, lean frame to be sure he was unharmed. Gray Eagle mistook the intense scrutiny for a show of accusation.

When her searching eyes returned to his, hers met with a cold, dangerous glint which she had known so wel, but had not seen lately. She instantly recognized the message he was sending to her, but knew she could and would not obey it. She remained rooted to the spot where she had halted only moments before. Her eyes and brain begged, not again ... please, not again ...

His eyes turned to burning coals, warning her not to interfere, to remain silent, to return to his teepee and not defy his authority. She read and ignored al his commands.

She turned and looked on in pity and anger at the men who were stumbling wearily and weakly into camp and the angry braves who were leading them. Tears threatened as she watched the mob preparing for more torture and death. The hostility of the Indian hunters was evident to her. She watched it spread to the people around as they spoke in angry voices, pointing several times to the two men.

The brave who appeared to be the spokesman for the group of hunters told the people how the two men had attacked and kiled three of their party. The two men were in the process of scalping the braves when they were taken prisoner. A cry of vengeance roared through the air and filed her ears. She stared at the scene, bewildered by the talking and shouting by the brave and his people. bewildered by the talking and shouting by the brave and his people. If only she could understand what they were saying and what was happening! With each new burst of words, the people grew angrier and fiercer. Hatred as thick and heavy as an England fog blanketed the camp.

Her eyes were drawn down the line of horses and men to a sickening, saddening sight. There were the bodies of three braves strapped to horses. Most of their bodies were covered by blankets, but she could see bright red blood running down their arms and dripping onto the stony ground. Even the blankets covering them were saturated with blood in several spots. They must have put up a fierce struggle. Once more her eyes scanned the group to see which of the braves was missing. Mahpiya Luta, Hehoka Sapa and Tatanka Yotanka were missing. Sympathy for Gray Eagle touched her raging heart, for Red Cloud had been one of his best friends and companions. She had come to respect and like the aging warrior. Five more lives . .. she realized she was just as sad about the deaths of the three Oglalas as she was about the deaths of her own kind. Even if death was such a common, expected event in the lives of these people, she stil found it difficult to accept. It was far more difficult when it was cold-blooded and unnecessary, like today. More bloodshed . .. more death ... more suffering for both sides... would the hating and kiling never end? Al the torment and anguish she had witnessed and endured for the past weeks flooded in on her, blocking out the peace and love of the past few days. Without any doubts, she knew what was about to take place. Grief and distress prevailed over common sense and judgment. It was too much...

Gray Eagle had watched her face, reading al her thoughts. He had hoped her expression at the sight of Mahpiya Luta's b.l.o.o.d.y had hoped her expression at the sight of Mahpiya Luta's b.l.o.o.d.y body would overrule her rebelion. He had hoped she would realize the serious gravity of the situation and not interfere. Noting the look on her face, he knew he had hoped in vain. The lives of the two white men were stil more important to her than the deaths of three of her enemies, or so he thought. Unaware of the crime the whites had committed, she could not know the justification and demand for their punishments and deaths. He made a very unwise decision when he refused to explain the truth to her.

He maneuvered his horse in front of her, blocking the scene from her vision. She raised her emerald eyes to his, seeking mercy and understanding which were not there. To his dismay, he caught the spark of rebelion and anger which flared in her somber eyes. He pointed to their teepee and said tersely, "Hiya, Lese! Ya!

Iyasni!" Silently, he prayed she would do as he commanded. She argued with herself. Helplessly, she knew there was nothing she could do for them. Do not risk his wrath and temper turning on you, she warned.

Trying to understand, she asked, "Why, Wanmdi Hota? Why must more suffer and die? Five more lives sacrificed. For what?

Surely you don't expect me to stand here in silence, watching while you torture and murder them like you did my own people. I can't!"

she nearly screamed at him. "I beg you, do not kil them. Do this much for yourself and me ..." Her voice was filed with pain and sadness. In anguish, she whispered, "If only I knew how to make you understand what I say. Talking to you is like talking to a rock..."

More firmly, he repeated his commands again. As tears began to flow down her cheeks, she turned and ran inside his teepee. He sighed in relief at his victory and her submission. He caled White sighed in relief at his victory and her submission. He caled White Arrow over to him and said, "You must watch her carefuly, my koda. These are her people, but I cannot alow her to interfere. She must accept and deal with her sadness and anger in private. I wil take care of this matter while you watch over her. Do not let her leave my teepee or cal out."

White Arrow nodded understanding. "I wil watch over her."

He knew if she openly defied his friend again, he would punish her severely. He did not want to see her suffer or hurt. Her courage, beauty and gentleness played havoc with his reasoning. White Arrow handed the reins of his mount to a nearby youth. He crossed the short distance to Gray Eagle's teepee, ducked and entered. He stationed himself just inside the opening. He had lowered the flap when he had entered. He thought it best that no one witnessed his concern and guard.

She lay sobbing on the buffalo palet. He longed to go to her and comfort her. He knew what a grave and foolish mistake that would be and forced those thoughts aside. She is Gray Eagle's winyan, he reminded himself. I must not reach out to her in any way. When he realizes he must give her up, I wil bargain for her with al I possess. I wil comfort her when she is mine.

His ears and senses became alert as the death chant began. He listened to the words as he had done so many times before. Wakantanka, see your children...

We come to give lives and hearts of wahmunkesa.

Weoffer their blood for the blood of our warriors. Wakantanka, see your children...

We send the spirits of the wahmunkesa to you.

Judge them for their evil.

Judge them for their evil.

Wakantanka, hear your children...

These wahmunkesa are kilers of your children.

These wahmunkesa are kilers of your animals, our brothers. Wakantanka, hear your children...

Hear the cries of Mahpiya Luta, Hehoka Sapa, Tatanka Yotanka. Hear the cries of the wahmunkesa, death and vengeance. Wakantanka, see and hear your children...

White Arrow again turned to Alisha. His eyes watched her so intensely she could feel the power in his stare. She was surprised when she raised her hand and found White Arrow standing there instead of Gray Eagle. Their eyes met and locked with an undefinable emotion.

The spel was abruptly broken by a yel which rent the air, folowed by a tormented scream. She blanched as white as the snows on the mountain tops. Her chin trembled visibly. Another, and stil another yel and scream tore through the silence. As many more folowed, she glanced around the teepee in agitation and helplessness. Her hands twisted and fidgeted nervously in her lap. Her teeth tugged at her lower lip. With each new cry, she flinched as if she felt the pains herself.

Soon, she lowered her head and covered her ears with the palms of her hands. Stil, this did not shut out the anguish of death. She began to rock back and forth, humming softly to herself. This new ploy did not shut out the pleas and sufferings. A pain-filed voice reached her ears as it pleaded for death and an end to his torment.

Unable to restrain herself, she bounded forward. Before she could reach the entrance, White Arrow seized her by the arms and could reach the entrance, White Arrow seized her by the arms and held her securely. He warned, "Hiya!"

She lifted tormented eyes to his and wept. He put his arms around her and held her gently, but securely. In need of this comfort, she clung to him tightly, her arms encircling his waist. Al of a sudden, Gray Eagle entered and noted the tender scene. his fiercy gaze flashed ominously at his friend. Nagging doubts and fears plagued his mind.

White Arrow immediately guessed what his friend thought. He calmly explained he was only giving her comfort in her pain and fear, and preventing her from going outside. Gray Eagle saw how distraught she was and begrudgingly accepted his friend's words. He watched how Alisha clung to him, like a smal child. He came forward and reached for her. As he puled her unwiling body from White Arrow's embrace, their eyes met for a brief moment. He was shocked and alarmed by the bitterness he read there. Angrily, he knew the truce was ended between them. He felt sadness at this knowledge, for their truce had been so pleasant, but so short. Stil, she was his and he would not alow this mood.

Furiously, she jerked her arm from his light, easy grip and backed away without speaking. She stood not far away, glaring at him. His eyes darkened like the deepest night and his jaw tightened noticeably. He looked like a man devil-possessed by her defiance. He spoke through clenched teeth, "Ku-wa, Lese!" There was a deadliness in his tone which brought panic to her heart. She remained frozen to the spot, noting his rapidly rising fury. She made a foolish move in White Arrow's direction, but he was instantly between them, blocking her escape. She looked past him to White Arrow for a.s.sistance, but he lowered his head in refusal. Arrow for a.s.sistance, but he lowered his head in refusal. For some wild, unexplainable reason, she made a grab for Gray Eagle's knife in the sheath at his waist. He seized her smal wrist painfuly and puled her struggling body to him. He pinned her arms behind her back with one of his powerful hands in a grip of steel. He slapped her a couple of times, brutaly bringing her back to her senses.

Immediately, livid prints appeared on her ashen cheeks. She quivered like a leaf in a strong March wind. Her panic-stricken face drained of al its remaining color, except for the bright red prints on her cheeks and the bruises already forming on her delicate cheekbones. Her lips were slightly parted and dry. She breathed in erratic, shalow pants. He released her and stepped back a few paces.

He held out his hand to her, repeating his previous command and daring her to refuse again. She stared at the outstretched hand as if it were a snake about to strike. She raised her hands to touch her stinging cheeks. She stared incredulously at the man she had come to love and fear above al others. Too terrified to refuse, she extended a cold, quivering hand to him.

Yielding to his command and power would not be enough this time. The look in her eyes and on her face moments before demanded to be punished and corrected. He captured her hand in a grip of iron and began to bend her fingers backwards. He would wipe out any and al defiance left in her this very night. Never would she look at him that way again, nor treat him with such open disrespect and hostility. She would see and feel what it was like to push him too far.

In his fury, he increased the pressure as his eyes blazed into hers. Knuckles cracked loud in the stil silence. Pains shot into her hers. Knuckles cracked loud in the stil silence. Pains shot into her wrist and up her forearm. Furiously, he vowed, you wil not fight or resist me this way, Little One. You wil do as I command without hesitation.

Once more, she gazed pleadingly at White Arrow in agony and fear. He watched the scene in suppressed hostility and rage, but dared not interfere. She comprehended she could expect no help from him. Her eyes returned to Gray Eagle's face. She recaled the night in the smokehouse clearly and knew it would not do any good to beg or apologize. He would do as he wished. Tears blinded her vision and she had to blink several times to clear it. She determined he would have to break her hand before she would grovel further to him, like some whimpering, beaten animal. Why did he receive so much pleasure from her suffering?

Incensed, her other hand flew up to slap him. Before the blow landed, he easily captured it in the same viselike hold. Inflamed at her daring action, he increased the pressure again. He could not believe she had dared to strike him. Would he be forced to break her hand before he broke her wil? Why could she not learn her lesson and yield to his greater power and position?

Thankfuly, only White Arrow had seen this audacious outburst. The penalty for striking a chief or his son meant certain death! Would she never fear or respect him so much that she would cease this futile and foolish struggle?

She bit into her cheek to keep from crying out. Blood began to flow from the corner of her mouth and eased down her chin. You must yield and beg mercy, he vowed. I wil have it no other way!

It took every ounce of her wilpower to remain silent. He gritted his teeth and tightened his hold, increasing the tension. He wondered just how much more she could stand before giving up. wondered just how much more she could stand before giving up. Her bravery and determination annoyed, yet pleased him. But it also angered him to be forced to continue this display of power. As he applied more pressure, she began to kneel in hopes of reducing or weakening his grip. By the time she was to the ground on her knees, he had eased to one knee, staying just close enough to retain his hold and the pressure.

"The past few days have al been lies and tricks! You stil hate me as much as ever. You wil never alow me to penetrate that wal around your heart. That is, if you even have one. I wil not beg mercy from you this time, Wanmdi Hota. You'l have to crush both my hands before I yield. I hate you! You're a savage! A b.l.o.o.d.y savage! I'l never belong to you, ever! I'l die before I let you touch me again." She accused boldly, "Murderer! Kiler of women and children! Beast! One day, I'l cut your evil, black heart out with your own knife!" She yeled at him in anger and pain, hoping he could grasp a few of the words, or at least their tone and meaning. Disregarding the Indian custom, Chela threw the flap aside and entered at that heated moment. She had heard the angry voices coming from inside his teepee and could not resist the chance to see Alisha punished or shamed. She smiled sardonicaly as she witnessed the duel of wils, knowing who the victor would be. She was surprised and angered he did not kil her immediately for her actions. He is too easy with this white wh.o.r.e, she fumed. He wil be sorry for this one day and for the way he has shamed me before the other women. He is mine and no other wil have him ... no one...

She looked at the determination and rage on his face, and the suffering and defiance on the white girl's. This was more than she had hoped for. He would see now he must kil or trade her. His pride demanded he break her spirit and wil first. She felt heat pride demanded he break her spirit and wil first. She felt heat spring inside her loins and fil her with desire as she watched him hungrily. His hard muscles rippled with each movement. He possessed a spirit no other warrior could compare with. She watched the handsome face with the crooked half-smile and the flas.h.i.+ng, angry, black eyes, the color of darkest night. Her ebony eyes caressed his body like a physical touch. I must have you soon, Cante, she thought. These fires which burn within me wil surely go wild if they are not fed! How can you desire a white wh.o.r.e over your chosen one? She must be destroyed to end this magic she casts over your eyes.

Chela remained at White Arrow's side watching happily.

"What has the ska winyan done to lose favor with him? Is he going to kil her? He must!" She boldly taunted, "How much longer wil the greatest Oglala warrior yield to a mere ska witkowin?"

White Arrow whirled to face her in disbelief and anger. He ordered her to silence and respect. His look momentarily did just that. He looked forward again. Chela continued to glare icily at him. Comprehending his true meaning, she hissed, "She has you under her magic also. You wil both regret the day you found her and brought her here. She wil only bring trouble and an evil curse. If he cannot find the courage to kil her, then he must trade her to the Cheyenne. She must not remain here."

She stared at him contemptuously, then sauntered over to Gray Eagle's side. She encouraged more pain and suffering for the white girl she hated above al others. Sarcasticaly, she implored, "Let me help you, Cante. I wil happily cut her to pieces. I can remove that face which blinds you both. A few cuts and scars and she wil no longer be so beautiful and desirable."

At Chela's appearance and the sound of her vindictive, At Chela's appearance and the sound of her vindictive, venomous voice, Alisha stiffened in renewed determination. She would not yield before them. Gray Eagle saw the new spark of fire and rebelion in Alisha's face and eyes, and was furious at Chela's appearance.

Soon, the pain became excruciating and she knew she could not hold out much longer. He saw the flickering of doubt and hastily pressed his advantage.

In desperation, she struggled to think of some diversion. Noting the smirk on Chela's face, she thought, I wil teach that cruel, selfish girl a lesson of my own. I wil tempt him right before her eyes. Recaling how she had seen Chela flirt with him in front of her, she copied her actions.

Softening her gaze and tone, she spoke to him, "I love you, Wanmdi Hota. No matter how much you hurt me or hate me. I have loved you since the first time I saw you." A note of pride tinged her voice and face as she continued with the first thing that came to mind. "You stood there so proud and daring that day, chalenging them with your very presence and power. How I wanted you, without even knowing it or why. But in time, I wil escape from you, for you wil never forgive or forget that I am white and your enemy. Why must it be so, Wanmdi Hota? Why did you act as though you wanted me al these weeks? Why did you alow me to believe I could... that we could... no matter now..." As she pressed her body to his, her eyes searched his for a flicker of hope. She tried to concentrate on anything other than the pain in her hands and Chela's chattering voice. She wanted to scream at her to shut up and to leave. She whispered to him, so close he could feel the wind from her breath, "I would gladly have been your slave if you did not force me to endure the torture of my people. I could you did not force me to endure the torture of my people. I could love you with al my heart if you would only alow it..." She leaned forward and shocked them al by kissing him pa.s.sionately and boldly.

Chela went wild with rage and jealousy. She grabbed Alisha's hair and yanked fiercely, puling her away from him. She screamed at Alisha, "Witkowin! How dare you? He is mine! I wil kil you for this insult."

Without a change in his expression or position, Gray Eagle spoke to White Arrow, "Wanhinkpe Ska, get her out before I kil her."

Chela released Alisha's hair and stared dumbfounded at him. The deadly calm of his tone told her he meant what he said, but stil she questioned, "Surely you would not punish or kil me because of this ska witkowin? What is she but a kaskapi and witkowin? Do I hear you right?" She glared at him in fury, chalenging him to deny her words or defend himself. He did neither.

He did not respond to her accusations in any way as White Arrow dragged her out of the teepee. Boldly, she fought, kicked, and cursed him as she hurled insults and threats at al of them. He would deal with Chela later. Right now, there were more important things at hand. His obsidian eyes bored into Alisha's. Unable to resist any longer, her resolve crumbled and she wept openly. She wondered why she had not been fuly aware of his s.a.d.i.s.tic nature by now. Hadn't she been shown enough evidence of it?

She moistened her dry lips and swalowed her pride. Solemnly, she spoke, "I am no match against your strength or hatred, Wanmdi Hota. If it matters at al, I yield."

She could not check the flow of tears which folowed her She could not check the flow of tears which folowed her submission. As they streamed down her cheeks, she lowered her head in defeat and despair.

His victory concluded, he released his grip. She gently ma.s.saged her hands and wrists as the tears dropped onto them. Time pa.s.sed, but he did not move away or speak. He lifted her chin with his fingers and gazed into it, trying to decide how much to believe of what she had said. Were her words only lies brought out by her pain or as a taunt? Why should it even matter what she thought or felt? But for some reason, it did.

Reading the suffering in her emerald eyes, he knew he should have controled his anger. He should not have struck out at her so brutaly. Were her feelings so wrong or her actions so unexpected?

Perhaps she would not have fought him if she had known why the prisoners had to die. But he would and could not be placed in a position of explaining his judgments and actions to her or any winyan. She must accept these things without defiance or questions. She looked sadly into his eyes and asked, "Why do you hate me so much, Wanmdi Hota? What have I done to you that you want to hurt me this way? Is it only because I am white? If only you could talk to me, or I to you, then you could tel me how to stop this hatred between us. There is so much I do not know or understand. If only I could hate you as you hate me..."

Her words and torment cut deeply into his heart. He was tempted to tel her everything, but could not. Fora time, he wished he were not Wanmdi Hota, but only a man. But man cannot change who or what he is and what he must do. He puled her into his embrace and held her tightly for a long time. Can she not feel or know that I do not hate her? he anguished. Can she not see this is how things must be for now and accept it? If only I were freed from how things must be for now and accept it? If only I were freed from my obligations and responsibilities to my people, then I could tel her the truth and reveal my love to her.

Alisha was bewildered by his fierce embrace and brooding silence after what had just taken place between them. He was as changeable as the winds. One minute he was as violent and destructive as the monsoon; the next, as warm and gentle as a prairie breeze.

Her battle-weary spirit offered no resistance. What good did it do to fight him? He was always the victor in their wars. Besides, she needed this smal comfort he offered. She wilingly and limply melted into his arms and clung to him, maybe for the last time, she grieved.

He is probably deciding my fate right now, she thought, and there is nothing I can do to influence it in any way. Abruptly, he released her and left quickly, without a word or backward look. She sat staring at the trembling flap for a time, pondering what his actions might be. I was a fool, she thought with dismay, to interfere tonight or to have believed everything would work out some day. How could I have forgotten for one minute what I am or what he is truly like? What difference does it make now? It's too late to recal my words or actions. It would be far easier to recal the sands of time in an hourgla.s.s. I wil die as al the others did before me. But why has he waited so long? Why did he even bother to keep me at al? There is no understanding him or his ways. She sat there stil and silent awaiting his verdict.

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