Wild Ecstasy (28 page)

She still held her head high, but could not stop the flow of tears that sprang from her eyes. She had let her husband down by disobeying him.

Now he might lose not only his wife but also his unborn child!

She looked to the heavens and prayed to the Great Spirit not to let this happen, and promised never to be so bullheadedly, stubbornly willful again.

Then her gaze was drawn to her abductors and her eyes narrowed when she heard the lead Indian being addressed by a name. White Wolf. It was the renegade Sioux who was guilty of this cowardly act today!

It would be with much rage and hate that Chief Silver Wing would avenge what White Wolf did today!

* * *

The council meeting over, Chief Silver Wing leaned into the wind and blowing snow and hurried to his wigwam. Once inside, and after shedding his fur wrap, he looked around the room for Nee-kah, a sudden foreboding lurking at the pit of his stomach.

She was not there.

And the weather was too bitter for her to have gone out into it.

His gaze went to the water jugs that sat at the side of the wigwam, and mentally he counted them. One was missing.

“She has gone to the river!” he said, his teeth clenched. “She still persists in believing she is capable of fending for herself, even . . . even in this blizzard!”

Throwing his fur cloak around his shoulders, he went from the wigwam shouting orders to his braves. He told several to go and search for Nee-kah down by the river. He told others to go in all directions close to the village, checking to see if she had lost her way in the blinding snow.

He mounted his horse and rode ahead of those on their way to the river, his heart pounding out the fear of not finding her before she froze to death.

He did not get far. He saw the water jug lying partially hidden in the snow. Quickly dismounting, he fell to one knee and grabbed up the jug; then his heart sank when he looked in all directions and could not find any footprints.

Fresh snowfall had covered them.

He looked to the heavens and let out a loud wail of despair, then bowed his head in a silent meditation with the Great Spirit.

When he arose back to his full height, he found himself circled by his braves on horseback.

“She is nowhere near,” one said, this pronouncement agreed on by the others.

“Then we must search until we find her,” Chief Silver Wing said, his jaw tight with determination.

“The blizzard . . . ?” Wise Owl said, gazing up into the swirling snow.

“We will ride until we cannot see to ride any farther.” Chief Silver Wing wheeled his horse around, urging it through the thick, heavy snow. Doubts of ever finding his woman were pressing in on his heart, yet he could not believe that she could have gotten far, unless . . .

His eyes narrowed with hate. “Unless she was abducted!” he cried aloud, alarming the men who rode beside him.

“The Sioux!” he whispered to himself. “If they came on my land and took my woman, they will pay!”

He shook the snow from his shoulder-length hair and snapped his reins, regretting that he could not go faster on his steed.

Time.

Time was his enemy in this weather of life-threatening temperatures.

His Nee-kah.

She could even now be lying beneath a covering of snow.

Or, he thought bitterly, she could be lying beneath her enemy!

Chapter 28

—Moore

 

 

 

The sky was lightening along the horizon. The storm clouds had diffused into something tranquil—into white puffs of clouds floating gently across the sky. Mariah's fingers were cold and stiff as she clung to the horse's reins. Her cheeks felt tight from the stinging cold wind.

The ride on horseback from Fort Snelling through the snow and cold, frosty air had been hard, but she had weathered it all and could only grieve to herself that her main complaint was that of being sleepy. Even food did not sound all that good to her. In fact, the thought of it made her feel ill to her stomach. Her main desire now was to stretch out on her pallet of furs beside the fire in Echohawk's wigwam.

Her eyes were burning with the need of sleep.

She was finding it hard to keep her eyes open....

The aroma of smoke wafting through the air caused Mariah's eyes to widen and her heart to sing.

Finally! Finally, after almost a full night of riding through the snow, and fighting occasional drifts piled high against the trees, they were near their village.

“No-din, soon you can be warmed by a fire,” Echohawk said, giving her a worried look. “I fear my decision to ride directly to our village was wrong. The night has been long and cold.” He smiled at her. “Yet you did not complain once. My woman, tonight, as so many times before, you proved to me that you can withstand anything. You are a woman of grit—of strength. I am proud of you, No-din. Very proud.”

“Echohawk, you have given me so much strength, by just loving me.” Mariah murmured. “I never want to disappoint you. I want you to be proud of me always.”

Echohawk did not have the chance to reply. Two of his braves were suddenly there on horseback, approaching them, rifles clutched in their hands, their faces painted with red streaks—the color of warring.

Echohawk jerked his horse to a shuddering halt and awaited their arrival. He eyed them warily as they stopped before him. “What has happened?” he asked. “You do not greet me with a friendly hello. You wear war paint. Why is that, Proud Thunder?”

Mariah drew her horse to a stop beside Echohawk's, shivering at the sight of the braves, who seemed hell-bent on vengeance.

“Nee-kah!” Proud Thunder said, his eyes narrowing with rage. He thrust his rifle into the air. “She is gone. It is believed to have been the Sioux who are responsible for her abduction. We help Chief Silver Wing search for her. We cannot find her, nor the Sioux camp.”

Echohawk's face paled. So Yellow Eyes had lied! White Wolf, the renegade Sioux who was responsible for so many of Echohawk's sadnesses, was alive, and again creating havoc.

But this time White Wolf was taking his vengeance out on Echohawk's friend Chief Silver Wing. Could White Wolf have done this thing against Chief Silver Wing only because it would draw Echohawk into a confrontation with them?

The terrible news about Nee-kah made Mariah feel faint, and then her shock registered even more sharply when she remembered Nee-kah's delicate condition.

The baby!

It was due in only a month.

The trauma that Nee-kah was going through, if she were still alive, could cause her to deliver early.

“And where is Chief Silver Wing?” Echohawk said, his voice drawn.

“He and many braves are still searching,” Proud Thunder said, gazing into the distance, through the snow-laden trees of the forest. Then he looked at Echohawk, an apology in his eyes. “Brown Fox and I searched the whole night through. We returned hesitantly, but we feel that further searching is in vain.” He paused, then added, “And we fear the villages being left so unprotected.” He looked guardly at Mariah, then back at Echohawk. “We can never forget raids of the white people. We cannot relax our guard, ever.”

Echohawk nodded. “This is so,” he said, reaching a heavy hand to Proud Thunder's shoulder. “But I must go and find Silver Wing. Together we will search a while longer for Nee-kah, and if she cannot be found, I must encourage the elder chief to return to his village. He is no longer a young man with the endurance of a bear. But of course I will be delicate in saying so.”

Echohawk then reached his hand to Mariah and placed it gently to her cheek. “No-din, go ahead to the village,” he said. “Brown Fox will take you. You get your rest. When you awaken, hopefully I will be there at your side to give you good news that not only is Chief Silver Wing back in his village, but also Nee-kah.”

“I so badly want to go with you,” Mariah said, sighing deeply. “I love Nee-kah as though she were my own sister.”

“You have been in the cold long enough,” Echohawk said firmly. “It is time for you to be warmed and to get some rest.”

Mariah felt dispirited about having to agree with him, but she
did
know that she could not go another mile on the horse. She was exhausted. And she would only delay Echohawk's search.

“
Ay-uh
, you are right,” she said, again sighing deeply. “I would only get in the way.” She turned and smiled at Brown Fox. “You do not need to travel with me to the village. Go on with Echohawk. He needs you more than I.”

Echohawk edged his horse closer to Mariah's. He placed a finger to her chin and brought her eyes back around, to meet and hold with his. “There has been one abduction, there is not to be another,” he growled. He nodded at Brown Fox. “Go. See to my woman. Stand guard outside her wigwam. Watch over her for me, for she is my life, Brown Fox.”

Mariah was touched deeply by how Echohawk so openly spoke of his feelings for her to his braves. She would have thought that a powerful Indian chief would not want to express such feelings to his braves—perchance looking weak in their eyes.

Over and over again Echohawk proved his intense love for her, she marveled to herself, and she suspected very strongly today that she just might have a way to repay him. She had missed her monthly weeps. She was feeling nauseated. Just perhaps . . . she was with child! What a gift to give her husband!

“
Mah-bee-szhon
, come,” Brown Fox said, nodding to Mariah. “Do not fear. I will see to your safety.”

Mariah's eyes wavered as she gave Echohawk one last look, hoping it would not be the last time she was allowed to. She wanted to believe that he would return to her. Their lives would soon be tranquil. They would wed, and together they would watch her body grow with child.

Sinking her heels into the flanks of her horse, she rode away from Echohawk, a feeling of foreboding hanging over her, as though she were engulfed within a dark cloud. She swallowed back a fast-growing lump in her throat, knowing that this was not the time to lose faith and waver in her courage.

Echohawk gave Mariah a lingering look, concerned for her as she rode away, her shoulders slumped. It seemed the burdens he kept placing on her shoulders were many.

And now?

What of sweet Nee-kah?

Would there ever be cause to celebrate a lasting peace among the Chippewa tribes?

Always there was cause for delay in the laughter and smiles!

He had begun to think that it never would change.

If not—he had drawn his No-din into a life of continued miseries.

Wheeling his horse around, he rode off beside Proud Thunder. They rode and searched with their eyes for what seemed hours; then suddenly before them were many horsemen riding toward them across a vast snow-covered meadow.

“Silver Wing!” Echohawk said beneath his breath, recognizing the elder chief from the others by the slight slouch of his shoulders—a chief who had once ridden so tall and straight in the saddle, now bent with age and years of disappointment and sadness.

He urged his horse into a strong gallop, then came to a halt beside Silver Wing's steed.

“I have heard!” Echohawk said, placing a hand on Silver Wing's shoulder. “I am saddened.”

Silver Wing's eyes lowered and he shook his head slowly back and forth. “It is with much regret that I have to return to my village without my Nee-kah,” he said glumly. “But we have searched, it seems, to the ends of the earth, and she is nowhere to be found. I fear she is dead, somewhere in the snow, the snow her grave.”

“Chief Silver Wing, you are weary from the search,” Echohawk said, his voice thin. “Return to your village. I shall search awhile longer. When you go to your bed alone tonight, you will then know that everything has been done to find Nee-kah.”

“She is
gee-mah-gah
, gone,” Silver Wing said, lifting weeping eyes to the heaven. “My wife! My unborn child! They are gone! Why, Great Spirit, why? What have I done to deserve such sadness as this?”

“Silver Wing? My husband?”

Echohawk and Silver Wing gave each other a sudden quizzical look.

“Did you hear a voice?” Echohawk said, his eyes wide as he stared over at Silver Wing.

“Did you hear the voice also?” Silver Wing said, his jaw tightening, having thought that wanting it to be so, so badly, he had imagined hearing Nee-kah's voice calling his name.

Suddenly in view, only a few yards ahead, where they now could distinguish the small figure of a woman from the brightness of the snow, Echohawk and Silver Wing saw Nee-kah stumbling through the snow, one hand clutching a blanket around her shoulders, her other hand outstretched toward them.

“My husband, it is I, Nee-kah!” she cried, suddenly clutching her hand to her abdomen, sharp pains gripping her there. “Silver Wing, come to me. Silver Wing!”

Silver Wing sank his moccasined heels into the flanks of his horse and rode off in a hard gallop toward Nee-kah, and when he reached her, dismounted in one leap. He grabbed her into his arms and hugged her tightly.

“My wife. My sweet Nee-kah. You are safe!” he whispered, his heart pounding with joy. He held her away from him and looked her up and down. “And are you all right? The baby?”

“Nee-kah is fine,” she said, then grabbed at her abdomen when the pains assaulted her again. She did not want to tell him that she was concerned about the child—that perhaps she was going to have the child early. She knew her husband well enough to know that he would want to go and settle things with the Sioux himself, instead of sending warriors to battle them for him. She would have to pretend that she and the child were fine.

Later, she decided. Much later she would tell him of her concerns.

Perhaps by then he would already be a father!

Silver Wing clasped his fingers to Nee-kah's shoulders. “I looked everywhere,” he said softly. “How is it that I did not find you?”

“The Sioux camp is not far,” Nee-kah said, giving Echohawk a soft smile as he rode up and dismounted. “Beyond the meadow, just inside the forest, there is a cave. The horses and the Sioux are well hidden there. I . . . I escaped when they slept. Being heavy with child, they did not think I would chance escape.” She laughed softly. “But they do not know Nee-kah, do they?”

“You are a different sort of woman, that is true,” Silver Wing said, his shoulders relaxing in a heavy sigh.

“Nee-kah is so sorry to cause you such worry,” she said, moving into Silver Wing's arms. “I did not listen to you. I went to the river for water. Because of that, because of my stubbornness, I was abducted.”

“That you are here now, safe, is all that is important,” Silver Wing said, easing her out of his arms. “You go now. Rest beside a warm fire until my return. We go and take many scalps today!”

“The Sioux who is responsible for Nee-kah's abduction is called White Wolf,” she murmured.

Echohawk and Silver Wing exchanged knowing glances, fire quickly lighting their eyes.

Then Silver Wing looked down at Nee-kah. “Your abduction will be avenged,” he growled. “White Wolf's scalp will decorate my scalp pole tonight!”

Nee-kah bit her lower lip with worry, then let Proud Thunder help her onto another brave's horse, and smiled weakly at Silver Wing as she clung to the brave as he rode gently away.

Echohawk and Silver Wing nodded, then swung themselves into their saddles and rode hard across the meadow. They entered the forest, but were stopped when a volley of arrows came at them seemingly from out of nowhere. The bowstrings twanged a death song, arrows humming like angry hornets at the Chippewa.

Suddenly many Sioux braves appeared on horseback, riding toward the Chippewa, White Wolf in the lead. Guns bellowed. Gunfire filled the air. More arrows screamed from their bows.

Echohawk threw back his head and uttered a war whoop almost in unison with Silver Wing's throaty cry. Kicking his horse into a run, Echohawk soon lost sight of Silver Wing as the Sioux and Chippewa mingled, all whooping and charging. They met in a head-on clash, clubs striking deadly blows, horses floundering and slamming onto their sides in the snow when they received the bullets meant for their riders.

The air soon thick with black powder smoke, Echohawk fought hard for his life, unable to look around him, to see how anyone else fared.

But soon the firing ceased and all that could be heard were the groans of the wounded.

Echohawk sat stiffly in his saddle as his gaze moved around him, seeing the death that lay strewn around him, the blood like roses in the snow.

And then his heart plummeted with despair when he spied a familiar face among the fallen. He quickly dismounted and ran to Chief Silver Wing, easing his head up from the snow onto his lap.

“Take the scalps of our enemy to our people,” Silver Wing said between deep, quavering breaths. He grabbed at his chest, where his fur cloak had been ripped open from the explosion of a bullet, blood freezing in shreds along the matted fur.