Bound by Honor Bound by Love (14 page)

Before he could talk himself out of
it, he turned toward her and put his arm around her waist in an
effort to hold her. She stiffened, and he stopped. His heart racing
in dread, he whispered, “Onawa?”

She didn’t respond for a long moment,
and he swore the silence that passed between them spanned an
eternity. When she finally spoke, he detected a hard edge to her
voice. “What do you want?”

Uncertain, words failed him. How could
he tell her that he was terrified this would be the last time
they’d be together? Maybe she’d come back to talk to his sister and
explain why she’d be leaving the tribe with her sister and father.
Maybe he’d never see her again. He brought his hand up to the
blanket and gently lowered it so he could see her face in the dim
light. She had her eyes closed, and though he wished she’d look in
his direction, she didn’t. In a tentative move to help bridge the
gap between them, he lowered his face towards hers and kissed her
on the cheek.

Her eyes flew open and she edged away
from him. “I’m not in the mood.”

It took him a good moment before he
realized she thought he was initiating lovemaking. He pulled back
and whispered, “I wasn’t going to…” He cleared his throat. “I just
wanted to kiss you. That’s all.”

“
Oh. Alright.”

She didn’t say anything else, but she
didn’t have to. He heard the relief in her voice. He didn’t dare
ask her if she still cared for him because he might find out that
she never cared for him to begin with. He should just be happy she
was here with him. She returned to the lodge. They would stay
married. He would get to be with her and their child. He told
himself that was enough. But for some reason, it seemed like a
shallow consolation.

Chapter Eleven

“
You can’t do this!” Cole
shouted among the protesters who had come to the chief’s lodge to
argue his mandate.

Citlali could barely hear Cole among
the group of angry men who demanded the chief forgo his mandate to
remove all of the white people from the tribe. Though Citlali stood
by the chief and expected this would happen, he took a step back.
He knew most of the tribe would be upset, but he’d underestimated
the power of their fury.

Cole pushed his way to the front of
the group so he was face to face with the chief. “I adopted Etu and
Yepa. They’re my children. You can’t take them away from
me!”

The chief turned his stoic gaze in his
direction. “White man’s laws do not matter here. You are under the
authority of the tribe.”

Cole’s face grew red. “I don’t care
what you say. Those are my children!”

“
No, they are not your
children. They are Motega and Takchawee’s children. You took care
of them for a short time, and we appreciate that. But it is in
their best interest to return to their family.”

“
Penelope and I are their
family.” Cole turned to Citlali who held his breath at the accusing
glare in his eyes. “You should have told me that by taking my
children here, this arrogant chief of yours would demand we turn
them over to him.”

Citlali swallowed. “This wasn’t… I
didn’t know…” He glanced at the chief who narrowed his hard gaze at
him. Growing silent, Citlali averted his eyes. What could he do? He
was caught between a rock and a hard place. No matter what he did,
he couldn’t win.

“
That’s the most emotion
I’ve ever seen in you,” Chogan told Citlali, and the lodge grew
silent.

Citlali stiffened. How did Chogan
manage to silence the room when the chief couldn’t? Citlali had no
idea how Chogan could command so much respect when he was just a
hunter. Chogan stared long and hard at Citlali who couldn’t look
him in the eye. He and Chogan had had their difficulties in the
past, but nothing was as hard as Chogan’s condemning scowl at this
moment when families were being ripped apart from each
other.

“
Why don’t you be a man and
tell the chief you won’t be a part of this, Citlali?” Chogan
demanded. “Doesn’t it matter to you that your wife’s family will
have to leave the tribe?”

Citlali gave a slight wince but didn’t
respond. He couldn’t afford to say anything, especially not in
front of the chief.

Chogan grunted and shook his head
before he turned his attention to the chief. “You won’t live
forever, and you can’t force people to abide by your archaic rules
once you die. Life teaches us that everything is in a constant
state of change. Even if the seasons cycle, no two winters or
summers are the same. Once a process has been started, you either
adapt or become obsolete. The ways of our people are dying. The
sooner you face that, the better. Fighting it won’t do you any
good. Those who are adapting to the changes happening around us
will survive. Your ways will not.”

“
You did not always talk
this way,” the chief replied in disapproval.

“
That’s because I saw how
things are instead of what I wanted them to be. You can’t stop
this. It’s bigger than all of us.”

“
That’s the kind of
thinking that will condemn us all. You give up and the situation
becomes hopeless.”

“
No. Your inability to
adapt to changes will condemn you and those who persist in
following you. You will miss out on people who will enrich your
life.” When the chief refused to relent, Chogan turned to Citlali
and pointed to all of the men. “They won’t follow you. You think
you will win their approval just because the chief tells them to?
When the chief dies, most of these men will abandon you. In the
white man’s world, they vote for their rulers. They don’t listen to
whoever the chief tells them to follow. And what do you think will
happen to your children if they marry among the white people? Will
you send them out of the tribe? And when Onawa’s finally had
enough, do you honestly believe she’ll stay with you?”

Something in Citlali snapped, and he
struck Chogan under the ear, aiming for the bundle of nerves
located there. The result was immediate. Chogan went limp and fell
to the ground. Citlali’s heart pounded loudly in his ears. He’d
never struck a man before. He knew the techniques to fight in case
he ever needed to defend himself, but he’d never put anything he
learned into practice.

The onlookers remained silent, and
time seemed to be suspended as he turned his gaze to the chief who
gave a slight nod of approval at the way Citlali had handled the
situation. Citlali’s eyes grew wide. He knew what he’d just
done.

In one swift move, he’d proven that he
could hold his own against Chogan, and the men would either be in
awe of him or reject him. Most likely those who weren’t happy with
the chief would reject him. Either way, it turned his stomach to
have struck out at someone the way he had. All the control he’d
carefully used to rein in his emotions seemed to be shattering all
around him.

Unable to bear the shame of letting
everyone know he could be bothered to the point of striking
someone, he fled from the lodge, ignoring the chief who called out
for him to return. He didn’t look at anyone as he hurried out of
the tribe. Several people called out to him, but he couldn’t answer
them. Soon enough, they’d learn he’d acted out of anger. He’d
rather not be there when they did. Fleeing, he pulled his robe
closer around him and went to the one spot he could safely be
without anyone seeking him out: the area where he went whenever he
sought his visions.

***

Bitter cold filled the night and
Citlali wrapped the robe tighter around his body. He regretted not
taking his teepee and supplies as he left the tribe, but he’d
rather die than go back for them. Thankfully, there was no snow,
especially since the temperatures had dropped since the sun went
down. He brought his knees to his chest and pressed his forehead to
his knees. In his haste, he hadn’t even considered how he’d make a
fire, and all efforts to do it from the tree branches nearby
resulted in a waste of time.

The prairie came with a profound
loneliness, and he had never noticed it more than tonight. He knew
what the chief would want him to do. The chief would want him to
take this opportunity to seek a vision, sure that it would
encourage him to send the white people away. But Citlali didn’t
want a vision. He was tired of looking for guidance from spirits
that didn’t exist. The Mandan legends were just that: legends. It
had been their way of life, and as much as the chief struggled to
maintain it, Citlali knew Chogan was right. Life was changing. The
old ways were passing to make room for the new ones. If he’d
learned nothing else from the outraged men who filled the chief’s
lodge that day, it was how fruitless the chief’s plan was. A chief
was to lead, not force his will on the tribal members.

For the first time in his life,
Citlali cried. Years of repressed emotions came flooding to the
surface, and he had no idea how he could stop them. No matter what
he did, he was trapped. Trapped between his duty to the chief and
his love for his wife. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t please
them, and to make matters worse, he’d struck Chogan in
anger.

At some point, he drifted off to
sleep, grateful for the reprieve from the day’s events. He didn’t
know how long he’d been asleep when someone called his name. At
first, he thought it was part of a dream he was having until he
felt someone touch him. Startled, his eyes flew open and he sat up.
It took him a moment to realize he was staring into Chogan’s
eyes.

Recalling the way he’d struck him,
Citlali bolted to his feet. “What do you want?” He pulled his robe
closer to him and scanned their surroundings, noting Chogan’s horse
and the travois it pulled.

“
You have a poor way of
running off like a scared rabbit,” Chogan said as he turned to the
travois.

“
I didn’t run like a scared
rabbit,” Citlali insisted, not hiding his irritation. What was the
point? He’d already shown Chogan how angry he could get.

Chogan didn’t bother glancing in his
direction. Citlali wasn’t entirely surprised by his reaction since
Chogan made it a habit of ignoring him when he didn’t care what he
had to say. Gritting his teeth, Citlali went to the travois to see
what Chogan put on it. He furrowed his eyebrows when he realized
Chogan had packed a teepee and buffalo blankets.

“
Why did you bring this
out?” Citlali demanded. “You’re not allowed to stay here. This is
my private area.”

Chogan shook his head and lifted the
teepee off the travois. “You are not only a scared rabbit, but
you’re stupid, too.”

Citlali grunted.

“
I wouldn’t be coming all
the way out here to stay here,” Chogan told him as he carried the
teepee to the area of the grass where Citlali had been sleeping.
“Julia’s better looking than you. I’m returning to her
tonight.”

Some of Citlali’s anger departed and
he relaxed. “Why did you bring me supplies?”

“
Because I think you’re
finally understanding what makes for a good chief.”

Chogan placed the teepee on the ground
and started setting it up. Eager to be in a warm teepee instead of
being exposed to the bitter air, Citlali hurried to help him. The
process of setting everything up didn’t take long, and Chogan had
Citlali’s belongings in the teepee. As Citlali made a campfire, he
thought about Onawa. Would she miss him? Or would she be glad he
wasn’t with her tonight?

He sighed. She probably didn’t want to
have anything to do with him. Sure, she’d returned to him last
night, but he got the feeling that she didn’t want to be with him
but did it because she felt she had no other choice. Today, she
learned what he did to Chogan, and Chogan was Julia’s husband.
There was no way she’d be eager to see him right now…if ever
again.

“
That should make you
comfortable until you decide to leave your hole and return to the
tribe,” Chogan said.

Citlali shot him a piercing look. “It
might be due to remind you that I helped save your life when Ernest
left you for dead.”

“
Why do you think I’m doing
this for you now? You’re no match for the night, and you’re no
hunter. If you’re going to survive to return to the tribe and do
the right thing, you need to live through this humiliating
experience.”

“
You never miss an
opportunity to give me grief, do you?”

“
When I was injured and
wanting to find Julia, you told me I did well to find a woman I’d
sacrifice everything for. Now you do the same. Don’t let pride hold
you back.”

Before Citlali could reply, Chogan
turned and went to his horse. Citlali sighed but focused on the
warm fire in front of him. For tonight, he’d take comfort in
knowing he had shelter, food and warmth. He wouldn’t think of the
chief or Onawa. He’d clear his mind and relax.

Chogan headed back to the tribe on his
horse, and Citlali gave into the peaceful solitude of the night.
Above him, the stars twinkled in the clear sky. In the past, he
sought a vision when he was out here, but deep down, he knew the
vision wouldn’t come. They were things of myths. The Lone Man was a
myth. If it’d been true, then the Lone Man would have returned as
promised, especially with the tribe in such division and the Mandan
people becoming smaller and smaller in number. But the Lone Man
hadn’t returned, and soon there would be no Mandan people left to
return for.