Bittersweet Ecstasy (52 page)

Bright Arrow had divided his band into three parts and had hoped to entrap the white unit between them, but he had not planned on the cunning and intelligence of the white leader, who had divided his troops and sent them right and left to close in on and surround the fleeing band.

Outnumbered and outmaneuvered, Bright Arrow and his band realized they had to turn and attack boldly and rashly to protect the other two unsuspecting bands from their clever foes. Bright Arrow heroically charged toward the approaching soldiers, hoping to seize their attention, and that of his other bands.

As hoped and expected, the military detachment reunited to accept Bright Arrow’s bold challenge…

The Blackfeet camp was attacked without mercy by Gerald Butler’s troops, and the beautiful girl in the
Chief Medicine Bear’s colorful tepee was taken hostage. As with the other camps nearby, Butler allowed several young braves to escape, to warn and to summon the Indians who had Fort Dakota surrounded. He shouted to his men, “Let’s ride, men. Those warriors should be returning with help before dawn. By the time we reach Fort Dakota, they’ll be gone. This pretty thing will be our protection,” he remarked of Sun Cloud’s secret love.

Singing Wind fought Butler valiantly and rashly, until he struck her forcefully across her jaw and rendered her unconscious. As he rested her limp body before him, he realized why Smith had asked for her as a reward from Silver Hawk; she was beautiful, ravishing. Many braves had died trying to prevent her capture, and he smiled wickedly. As long as they had her, they were safe, he decided.

Around three o’clock on Sunday morning, the tribes at the fort received the dire news of the attacks on their camps, and all raced from the fort to defend them, leaving several scouts and spies behind.

At dawn, Butler and his troops, along with those from Fort Meade, arrived and revealed their actions of the past two days, which had resulted in this reprieve. Singing Wind was placed under guard in the blockhouse. Then Butler told of how they had hidden along the trail until the Indians passed them on their frantic return to their camps. He was astonished and pleased to learn of his reinstated rank and exoneration of all past guilt, especially since these had occurred before his heroic and daring escapades.

A few hours later, the troops from Fort Henry arrived, bringing along several civilians whom they had encountered on the trail and taken into their protective
custody. They reported on the ambush, which they had avoided, and hinted at the peril that the others must be facing.

Cooper’s gaze scanned the number of soldiers, and he remarked aloud, “Even if they don’t get through, we have plenty of men and supplies to repel any Injun attack. When they realize two detachments arrived safely, they’ll get nervous. After they get over their fury at Butler’s clever foray. You men get rested, then we’ll handle them good.”

Just as Jeremy Comstock informed General Cooper of his reason for coming to this area, Timothy Moore approached from behind him and stated, “Dinna worry, lad; I’ll take guid care o’
Mrs. Clay Rivera.
She is jus’ tha weapon wha’ we’ve been needin’. Guid tae see ye ag’in, Rebecca. How is ye husband Clay, er should I sae, Bright Arr’r?”

Rebecca whirled and stared at him, for that was a voice which she would never forget, a voice which she believed had been silenced forever. “Timothy Moore?” she murmured in disbelief, then fainted as she comprehended the meaning of his reality and presence.

Jeremy caught Rebecca before she could hit the hard ground. His curious gaze engulfed the soldier who had brought on her condition, the flaming-haired man who seemed to know his love. Hastily he asked questions and demanded answers. The men talked and argued.

Timothy Moore laughed and scoffed, “Tha filthy bitch lied tae ye, Mr. Comstock. She be tha whore an’ squaw o’ Bright Arr’r, son o’ Gray Eagle. I hae tae take her prisoner. She be ae criminal an’ foe.”

Jeremy Comstock could not believe the words which the officer spoke against his love, for he had known Rebecca Kenny for over a year. Yet the commander in charge swore that his officer was speaking the truth, and ordered Jeremy’s beloved to be imprisoned.
Things looked and sounded bad for Rebecca, but Jeremy vowed to remain at the fort until this crazy matter was clarified.

The unconscious Rebecca was tossed into the blockhouse with Singing Wind, who was stunned and overjoyed by the flaming-haired woman’s return. The Indian princess listened as the white men talked freely and carelessly outside her prison…

Bright Arrow’s Oglala band watched in mounting dread and fury as their captive leader was lashed shamefully with the soldier’s belt after responding to a deceitful truce flag. The wounded warrior never cried aloud, but he uncontrollably winced at each agonizing blow and cursed his stupidity. Their war chief, Big Elk was dead, as Sun Cloud had foretold. The Oglala trap had failed, and Bright Arrow had sought to dupe the soldiers with a truce, but the trick had been on him. As they tortured him to force his warriors to surrender, he knew his braves would not, for it was forbidden, even unto death. He could not help but wonder if this was his punishment for intruding on Sun Cloud’s fate. He told himself he was wrong, for he had decided to step aside, so his removal by death was unnecessary. His thoughts were of his family and people as he yielded to the blackness which was filling his head.

Slowly Bright Arrow aroused and found himself looking into the worry-lined but smiling face of his brother. He was confused, and exhausted. His body trembled and ached. He tried to sit and talk.

Sun Cloud prevented it and entreated, “Do not worry, my brother, for our enemies have yielded. We will take you home to heal and to rest.”

From his blur of pain and bewilderment, Bright Arrow murmured weakly, “I am… ashamed, my brother. I… tried to take the chiefs bonnet and Singing Wind… from you. I was blind and foolish. You must forgive me. I have dis… honored myself and our people.”

Sun Cloud stroked Bright Arrow’s sweaty brow and refuted, “No, my brother, you have done as Grandfather wished. You will become war chief, for Big Elk is dead. Rest, and we will speak later.”

“I do not deserve to live. I let my foes trick me with a truce flag and many of my warriors died over my foolishness.”

“No, my brother,” Sun Cloud protested firmly. “We were told to seek peace where we could find it. It is not your fault it was not here, for you obeyed in the face of great danger. You were very brave and all will honor you.” His dark eyes roamed his brother’s numerous injuries and darkened ominously as they reached the wales from the soldier’s leather belt. That treatment was humiliating and unforgivable, and the soldier had paid for his action with his life. Sun Cloud gently tended his brother’s wounds as he related his own battle.

Sun Cloud announced to the group, “We will take our brave warriors home; then we will join those at the fort. Our victory is near.”

Travois were constructed to carry the wounded and dead home, which would slow their return. This time, there was only one survivor, a young soldier whom Sun Cloud had chosen as his warning messenger to Fort Dakota. The two bands realized, if Silver Hawk had been as successful as Sun Cloud had, the hostile fort would soon be helpless…

“Wahear?” Singing Wind gently shook Rebecca’s shoulder as she called her name to arouse her. She watched Rebecca stir and moan, and was eager to hear how the woman had survived and returned.

Rebecca gazed into the Indian maiden’s face, then smiled. “Singing Wind, what are you doing here? What happened? What’s going on?” she probed, then frowned worriedly as reality swiftly engulfed her.

Singing Wind hurriedly explained the attack on the Blackfeet camp and her capture. She related the current events and dire situation to the stunned woman whose return would fulfill her dreams and destiny.

“Dead?” Rebecca murmured sadly at the news about Gray Eagle and Shalee. “How is Bright Arrow? Are my children safe?”

Singing Wind tried to bring Rebecca up to date gradually, not wishing to overwhelm the woman with so many distressing facts at once. She could tell that Rebecca was happy for her daughters and was eager to see them. But Rebecca was distressed over the other episodes. She thought it was best to keep silent for now about the brothers’ rivalry over the Oglala chief’s bonnet and her. “Tell me of your trouble.”

Before Rebecca responded, first, there was something she had to know. “He hasn’t given me up for dead yet? He hasn’t…joined to another?” the auburn-haired beauty inquired anxiously.

“No, but he has suffered greatly over your loss. Where have you been? What happened to you?” Singing Wind asked apprehensively.

Rebecca told the woman whom she had known since childhood the details of her stunning trek away from and back to this land and her love. She talked about Timothy Moore and the peril he represented.

“It is bad, Wahea,” Singing Wind concurred. “My brother was a fool to fail in his duty. His heart and
deeds have been wicked for many winters, but they darkened during this past season. We will speak of Silver Hawk later,” she hinted, knowing that to expose her brother’s evil would also expose the false visions and their effects on many lives, including theirs. “I pray the other bands are safe and victorious. We must find a way to escape and to warn our tribes. It is clear the bluecoats see us as weapons against our peoples. We must not allow this, even if we must die. Grandfather will help us return to our loves and destinies. All is good, for He has brought you home.”

“I pray it wasn’t to get this close, to die before…”

As Rebecca began to weep softly and fearfully, Singing Wind comforted her, “Do not say or think such things, Wahea. All is not lost.”

Rebecca looked into the Indian beauty’s eyes and argued, “But you do not know of his evil and hatred. Timothy wants me hurt and dead.”

The women were given food and water that night, and Timothy Moore came to visit. He stood at the door and gazed through the bars at the woman he had loved and wanted to marry long ago, the woman who had duped and betrayed him, the woman who had taken nearly everything from him. He was consumed by the desire to see her suffer, and to see Bright Arrow suffer through her pain and loss, more than the warrior had suffered during her mysterious absence. He had ordered Jeremy to stay away from Rebecca, and the trapper was compelled to obey. Presently, Jeremy was getting drunk at the sutler’s place.

“Ye are like ae little red bird in ae cage, Rebecca Kenny,” he taunted her. “I plan tae wrap my hands around ye neck an’ squeeze tha life from ye traitorous body, when I hae nae more use for ye.”

Rebecca stared at the spiteful male, but did not reply. She knew it was useless to debate his hatred, his
past actions, and his current ones. He would merely derive sadistic pleasure from her displays of fear and protest. Silence and courage would serve her and suit her better.

“My little bird hae nae song tae sing tonight?” he jested mirthfully. “Ye will be singin’ plenty soon, singin’ o’ ye pain an’ for ye betrayal.”

Rebecca clenched her teeth to hold back her retorts. She shifted sideways on the bunk to place her back to him. No cunning plan came to mind, for it was perilous to try to dupe Timothy again, and it probably would not work. Escape seemed impossible, for this fort would be guarded like a bank filled with gold!

Timothy laughed maliciously, then strolled away to his quarters.

Singing Wind went to sit beside Rebecca. Their gazes met and they embraced each other for comfort and encouragement.

It was around midnight when Singing Wind and Rebecca were aroused from their restless sleep by the door opening to their prison. The nervous guard entered with Timothy Moore, who reeked and swayed from whiskey. The two women sat up on their bunks and Moore glared from one to the other in the eerie glow which was cast by his lantern.

“Sir, I don’t think we should be in here,” the guard advised, for he perceived that the man was up to no good. He would be discharged soon, and he did not want any more trouble than they already had.

Moore faced him and sneered. “I be ae colonel an’ ye be ae corporal, so stay out o’ my affair. I want tae question this Injun whore.”

Singing Wind rose quickly and took Rebecca’s side protectively as the drunken man started toward the
auburn-haired woman. Moore’s agitation increased, and he charged forward to deliver a stunning blow across the Indian woman’s jaw. When Singing Wind collapsed to the ground, Moore kicked her in the ribs, nearly breaking one.

The guard rushed forward and seized Moore’s arm to keep the officer from kicking the unconscious female again. “Sir, what are you doing? These are helpless women. They’re valuable captives. General Cooper won’t like this,” he reasoned anxiously.

“Git ye ass outside, Corporal,” Moore commanded harshly. “An’ dinna ye enter ag’in before I leave. An’ cover tha window on ye way out.”

The guard was alarmed and repulsed, but figured he should obey the uncontrollable man who was a higherranking officer and a friend of his commander’s. He took a blanket and covered the window over the door, the only one in the small blockhouse, then left reluctantly.

Moore glanced at their private surroundings and grinned satanically. He grabbed Rebecca as she tried to flee past him to the door, either to escape or to cry for help. He clamped his large hand over her mouth and nose, then shook her roughly. “There be nae escape for ye this time, Rebecca. I should hae done this long ago. When I finish with ye, nae man will want ye or will look at ye,” he threatened.

He backed her to the bunk and shoved her upon it. Pinning her down with his weight and strength, he yanked off his yellow bandana and gagged her with it. When she continued to struggle with him, he slapped her several times to stun her. Then, withdrawing his belt, he bound her hands securely behind her back before he slowly and intimidatingly removed his boots and shirt and tossed them aside. When Singing Wind moaned and moved, it seized his attention. Taking his
knife, he cut strips from a thin blanket, then bound the Indian girl’s wrists and ankles and gagged her. As he pulled off his pants, he chuckled and said, “If I hae time an’ energy left, little savage, I’ll take ye too.”