Capture the Sun (Cheyenne Series) (42 page)

BOOK: Capture the Sun (Cheyenne Series)
5.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

      
As she struggled to stand up and then to calm a wailing baby, she could feel the heat of her captor's gaze on her, boldly surveying her body from head to foot. He was very tall. Indeed, they all were. Half a dozen other savages, all armed to the teeth, quickly caught up and surrounded them, jumping from horseback to survey the prize. They spoke rapidly in their language, laughing and talking. The tall, cruel-looking man who had pulled her off Taffy was gesturing to her hair and making obviously lewd comments to his companions.

      
As she shivered in terror, Carrie crooned to Perry, desperately trying to force herself to be calm. She must use her wits and try to save her son. Then she noticed that the Indians' attention had shifted from her to Perry. Several of them were looking at him closely and talking animatedly among themselves. Of course! They recognized his red ancestry.

      
She looked closely at the men, noting their facial features, the patterns of their clothing, the adornments on their weapons. Several of them were Cheyenne, including her captor! She was sure she recognized the clothing designs and even the tall, handsomely chiseled facial planes. If only they would be able to understand her. Slowly she reached inside her shirt and pulled out Hawk's medallion.

      
Angry Wolf was filled with an all-consuming rage as they rode steadily toward Iron Heart's camp with the flame-haired woman and the boy she claimed was Hunting Hawk's son. If only she had not possessed the medal Iron Heart brought from the White Fathers in the east! When she showed it and claimed to be Hawk's woman, his two companions recognized it, as did he. They were not in the village the day she visited as he had been, but they had both grown up with Hawk. White Arrow even knew enough English to understand her tale. Angry Wolf's furious bombast failed to swerve them from their course. They felt honor-bound to take her to Iron Heart. After all, did she not wear the great chiefs sacred medal? Was the manchild not of Cheyenne blood? Angry Wolfs arguments to the contrary did not sway them. Short of killing his friends, he had no choice but to take her to Iron Heart, who would decide her fate and that of the child.

      
He cursed the child. Looking at the boy, he could see the old women of the village had gossiped truthfully. He was Hawk's son, all right. A fierce anger burned in him that the child would escape his vengeance, but the woman must not. There was a good chance the chief would allow him to keep her, Angry Wolf consoled himself. Ever since Wind Song had died and with her Iron Heart's hopes for a great-grandchild, the old man had been bitter against the
veho
and their diseases. Now he would welcome his great-grandson, but he would not want the white woman in his lodge. At least, Angry Wolf convinced himself this would be so.

      
The daughter of the sun would be his white slave! When Hawk returned from his long journey taking Bright Leaf to her parents, he would be too late. Angry Wolf would have bedded her and she would belong to him. Satisfied that his plans had only been postponed, not thwarted, he became calm, watching her with hot, hungry eyes as she rode next to him.

      
Carrie marveled that she had been successful in convincing them to take her to Iron Heart's encampment. Thank God they recognized the medallion. Two of the men had argued with her captor, prevailing over him. One even spoke halting English and said he was a friend of Hawk's.

      
Looking over at Angry Wolf, she shuddered. Even his eyes on her made her skin crawl. His hands on her would be a horror beyond imagining. She did not recognize him from her brief visit to the encampment, nor know he was Hawk's longtime rival and deadly foe. Nevertheless, she could feel more than simple lust emanating from him as he watched her. He was demented, wanting to inflict pain. She said a silent prayer for Iron Heart's sense of justice and prayed Hawk would be there when they arrived.

      
They rode until almost dark. Then the Sioux left, and the Cheyenne led her into a narrow ravine through which a clear stream meandered. After following its twisting course for several hundred yards, they rounded a bend and came upon a wide, grassy valley. In its center was the encampment. It did not seem as large as it had two summers ago. Perhaps it was only the difference in the site that made it appear smaller.

      
Carrie scanned the faces of the people who stood impassively as she was led into the center of the horseshoe configuration of tepees. Trying desperately to maintain her dignity, for she knew the Cheyenne respected courage, she sat straight and tall on Taffy, holding Perry securely in front of her. All the while she continued to look in vain for Hawk.

      
The village was much as she remembered, a summer camp with men sharpening knives, fletching arrows, and cleaning rifles while women stirred steaming pots over open fires, pounded fruit with dried meat in stone mortars, and tanned hides stretched on broad frames across the ground. A motley assortment of small children who were playing with balls and sticks now stopped to stare in wonder at the
veho
woman with the strange and wondrous hair. One small girl with luminous brown eyes clutched a doll to her thin chest and regarded Perry with shy curiosity. She resembled Bright Leaf, Carrie thought with a sudden pang. Was the child still in the camp? Suddenly Carrie felt less afraid, eager to confront Iron Heart and show him his great-grandson.

      
By the time the war party reached Iron Heart's lodge, word had already spread like wildfire through the village. However, the chief did not come out to greet them. Angry Wolf, White Arrow, and Owl Man dismounted.

      
Carrie waited expectantly, but the buffalo-hide flap of the lodge did not open. Taking the initiative, she grasped Perry firmly and dismounted, then marched toward the opening of the big lodge. Angry Wolf stepped quickly in her way and grasped her cruelly by one arm, saying something in Cheyenne that was obviously a harsh reprimand. He then stepped inside the tepee and dragged her roughly behind him. Almost losing her balance as she stooped to enter while holding Perry, she quickly righted herself and stood proudly, letting her eyes adjust to the gloom.

      
Iron Heart sat near the center of the large circular interior. He looked older, sadder and subdued, Carrie thought. Then the chief motioned for Angry Wolf to speak. After a brief exchange in which the old man interrupted with a number of questions, the two other Cheyenne were called.

      
Carrie stood in the center of the group of men, uncertain if she should say anything. Angry Wolf no longer held on to her, but his very presence next to her was threat enough. He seemed to think he owned her. She knew it was customary for women to remain silent in any serious deliberation such as this, but she did not understand what they were saying and desperately wanted to present her side. Surely Iron Heart would recognize his own flesh and blood!

      
She fixed her attention on the old man as he conversed with the three warriors. Not once did he look at Perry. Her heart sank. Then he abruptly dismissed them all and motioned for her to stay. With a snarled oath, Angry Wolf turned and stalked out of the lodge with the other two behind him.

      
“Sit, Carrie Sinclair.” It was his first acknowledgment of her existence. As she knelt on the thick cushion of pelts where he indicated, she watched him study Perry. The boy stared with huge, glowing black eyes at the wizened face before him. After several seconds of mutual perusal, the chief spoke again with a grunt of acceptance. “He is the son of Hunting Hawk. There can be no doubt of it.”

      
“Where is Hawk?” Carrie could wait no longer to speak.

      
“Where is your husband?” His words were measured but nonetheless accusing.

      
She was shocked, but then realization swept over her. No one here knew! “Noah died a year ago, before Perry was born.”

      
“But not before he was conceived,” came the gentle rebuke. His eyes suddenly seemed weary, defeated and hurt.

      
Her face flamed red as her hair under Iron Heart's intense scrutiny. Never with any of the priggish townspeople or even with Kyle had she felt this discomfort. Collecting herself, Carrie looked him squarely in the eye. “I make no apologies. I was forced against my will to marry a man who was a cruel, vindictive animal.” She paused and took a swallow for courage. “Hawk and I lived under his roof. We were thrown together repeatedly, until we couldn't resist any longer. After one night with me, Hawk's sense of honor compelled him to leave. I loved him, and when Perry was born I was overjoyed that he was Hawk's son, not Noah's.” She stopped and looked from Iron Heart to Perry, a glow of intense love and pride infusing her face.

      
“He gave you that?” The old man gestured to the medallion hanging proudly between her breasts.

      
“Yes. After—after we spent that one night together, he placed it around my neck. I knew how much he valued it because he always wore it.” She unconsciously stroked its intricate, gleaming surface. “Then he left. I haven't seen him in a year and a half. Is he here?” Her heart was in her throat now.

      
Iron Heart sighed. He should have known he could not go against the will of the Powers. This was ordained, even if it boded ill for his grandson and the young woman who sat so proudly before him. “He has lived with the People through two snows. You will find him much changed, I fear. We are all of us much changed. Many have died from the spotted throat—what you call diphtheria.”

      
“Bright Leaf,” Carrie cut in abruptly. “She's all right?”

      
He nodded. “That is why Hunting Hawk is not in the village. He is taking her to her parents. This spring we finally received word of them. There will be much rejoicing in their camp,” he said wistfully.

      
“When will he return?” She could not keep the anticipation out of her voice.

      
Iron Heart fixed her with a penetrating stare, both a rebuke and a warning in his manner. “It will be several days. There are many things to consider before he returns.”

      
Something in his voice sent a ripple of apprehension through her. “What did you mean when you said he is much changed?”

      
“He has been married,” he said levelly.

      
Carrie sat riveted to the ground. If she had been hit full in the heart with a sledge hammer, it could not have hurt more. Married! He left her alone to face Noah's killing wrath, deserted her to bear his son and live down all the censure, and then he married another!

      
Her face betrayed her anguish and her anger to Iron Heart. He watched her stroke the hair on her exhausted son's head as he lay sleeping on the pallet. She had reason to be hurt, he supposed, but then, so did Wind Song, so did he. “His wife is dead. Killed by the spotted throat, she and her unborn child.”

      
Carrie's eyes were huge and dark green as she fixed them on him, eloquent with pain. “It was Wind Song, wasn't it?” She already knew.

      
He nodded. “Hunting Hawk blames all whites for their deaths, even himself. Maybe most of all himself,” he said sadly, thinking of the bleak desolation that still enwrapped Hawk, even six months later.

      
“What will happen now, Iron Heart? Will he want his son?”
Will he want me
? She sat very still, pondering all that had happened. Could she forgive what she perceived as a betrayal? Did she still love him?

      
The old man's next words shocked her. “I must confer with the other chiefs. Angry Wolf is a powerful man in our band, and he has claimed you. You belong to no man now, not He Who Walks in Sun, not Hunting Hawk. Many in our band want to join with our Sioux brothers and take up arms against the
veho
. Angry Wolf is their leader. If the elders do not deal fairly with him, it may lead many more young warriors to sing their wolf songs and go to war. I would not have this.”

      
“But you cannot give me to that horrible man! Keeping a white captive would bring the army down on you for certain!” She was really terrified now. “What of your great-grandson? Angry Wolf doesn't want him. I fear he'd kill my son!”

      
“As to holding a captive, we move like the wind deep in the mountains and leave no trails across the wide plains. No bluecoats would ever know you were here or see you if we wished to hide you. No one will harm the boy. He is of my blood and I will protect him, but I can make no promises about you.” He stood up and began to walk toward the opening of the lodge. “I will send women with food and water. Rest and refresh yourself. It will take several days to decide.
And may Hunting Hawk return by then,
he prayed silently.

      
Carrie sat alone, hugging herself in disbelief and numbness. What would happen to her and Perry? Shortly, two older women came in bearing bowls of fruit and stew, and a flask of water. They spoke no English and did not seem inclined to be friendly, so, Carrie simply indicated her thanks and settled back to feed Perry and eat to keep up her own strength. She knew she would need all her wits about her for the ordeal to come.

      
Gradually as her panic subsided, it was replaced by a low, simmering anger. She and her child were trapped in a hell not of their making. Of course, she felt horribly guilty for her careless wandering that had brought Angry Wolf and his cohorts down upon them, but it was certainly not her fault that an epidemic had decimated the village! Or that Wind Song was dead. She still felt mortified and furious remembering Iron Heart's accusing words,
Where is your husband?
The world and all its rules were made by men, red or white!

BOOK: Capture the Sun (Cheyenne Series)
5.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Time Siege by Wesley Chu
Killer Hair by Ellen Byerrum
Harnessing Peacocks by Mary Wesley
A Baby by Chance by Thacker, Cathy Gillen
Forever and Almost Always by Bennett, Amanda
Sleeping Beauty by Dallas Schulze
The White Guard by Mikhail Bulgakov
Heroin Chronicles by Jerry Stahl