Bound by Honor Bound by Love (4 page)

“
I love you, Onawa,” he
whispered in her ear.

Before she could respond, someone
cleared his throat right outside their room.

Chapter Three

Startled, Citlali’s head cleared in an
instant, and he rolled off of Onawa. The fact that someone had been
right outside their room—probably knowing exactly what was going
on—was infuriating. Didn’t the person understand the consummation
of his marriage demanded privacy? He threw on his clothes and made
sure Onawa was under the blanket. He moved the partition enough so
he could see who disturbed them.

As soon as he realized it was the
chief, he bit back a reprimand. It wouldn’t be good to criticize
him. The chief, not bothering to lower his voice so the others in
the lodge wouldn’t overhear, said, “I have given you sufficient
time to begin the process of having children to replenish the
tribe. We will go to my lodge to discuss the important matter I
told you about earlier.”

Noting that the statement was a demand
rather than a question, Citlali forced aside his agitation and
nodded. “I will tell Onawa where I’m going.” The chief indicated
his consent, so Citlali pulled the partition back in place and sat
on the bed. As he looked down at her in the dim light, it occurred
to him how much he revealed his feelings to her. Cold dread washed
over him. He told her he needed her. He even said he loved her!
While those things were true, they were far too intimate for him to
share with anyone, even his wife. Glad it was dark enough so she
wouldn’t see the shame on his face, he said, “The chief needs to
speak with me. Since I am the second chief, I must obey him.” Why
was he even explaining this to her? She grew up in the tribe and
understood how it was.

Her next words confirmed this. “I
know. When the chief says he needs to talk to you, you have to do
it.”

Unsure of what else to say to her, he
nodded. He was still horrified he told her he loved her.
Thankfully, he’d whispered it so the chief hadn’t overheard. That’d
be much worse. Determined he wouldn’t reveal his apprehension to
her because he wasn’t sure how she’d respond to him now that she
knew he was weak, he forced his voice to remain steady and detached
as he said, “I will return when I am done talking to
him.”

“
Alright.”

Disappointed that she didn’t express a
desire to see him again, he left their small room and pulled his
buffalo robe around his body to brace himself for the cold outside.
He pretended not to notice his mother’s surprised look as he left
with the chief. Before the wedding, his mother made it a point to
ask him to be good to Onawa and show her he cared about her or else
he’d risk losing her. Citlali had no desire to get a divorce, and
he knew he needed to be attentive to his new wife. But he needed to
find the right balance. This, apparently, was going to take
time.

“
We need to keep to our
traditions,” the chief began as they made their way to his lodge in
the quiet night. “We’re not adhering to our ceremonies as we once
did. Less young people inquire about the Lone Man or care about
sacred bundles.”

“
I don’t know how we can
stop our people from making their own choices.”

“
What we need to do is get
rid of the white people who live among us. We need to go back to
our roots.”

Refraining from wincing, Citlali
thought of Onawa’s sister who married a white man. Undoubtedly,
Onawa would be hurt if her sister and sister’s children left. There
was no way Woape would live in this tribe without Gary. Hoping he
wasn’t speaking out of line, he asked, “What if we didn’t allow any
more white people to live among us? Surely, those who are already
here aren’t going to create problems.”

“
I know you have befriended
Gary, even though he married the woman you were betrothed
to.”

“
It was her right to choose
another man. It is not our way to begrudge a woman
this.”

“
No, it isn’t. But it meant
you couldn’t marry her and her sister and that reduces our chances
of replenishing our people.”

Citlali didn’t bother saying that
after what he experienced with Onawa, he had no desire to be
intimate with another woman. It seemed much too personal to be with
someone like that. Not only that, but it never would have been as
good with Woape. He didn’t have to be with her to know
this.

They reached the chief’s lodge where
they could talk in private. The fire warmed Citlali, though he
couldn’t help but wish it was Onawa warming him instead. He
chastised himself for thinking such a thing. If he wasn’t careful,
he’d end up weak.

After they hung up their robes, the
chief sat on a rug in front of the fire and picked up his pipe.
Citlali sat on the rug beside him and rested his hands on his
knees. The chief inhaled the contents of the pipe and waited for a
moment before he blew out the smoke. He handed Citlali the pipe.
“You will succeed me one day,” he said, his voice solemn. “When you
do, it’s imperative you do everything you can to keep the tribe
together. We must survive.”

Citlali smoked the pipe and handed it
back to the chief. “I want our people to stay strong and thrive.”
He just didn’t know how it was possible, and he couldn’t bring
himself to tell the chief that.

“
Then you must do whatever
it takes to make it happen. We’ve been too soft, too willing to
compromise with the white man who speaks with a forked tongue. Our
Lone Man can’t return if we’re not here. He protected our people
long ago from the great flood by building a wall around our
village. We owe him much for what he did.”

It seemed to Citlali that if the Lone
Man was so powerful, he would have protected them from the Smallpox
outbreak that ravaged their people, but he held his
tongue.

“
Perhaps we need to seek
guidance from the spirits,” the chief said before he brought the
pipe to his lips and inhaled again. He blew out smoke and looked at
Citlali. “You must go out on your own for a week and seek a
vision.”

He nodded. “I’m due to seek one in
April.”

“
No. We can’t wait that
long.”

“
Then in March?”

The chief shook his head and handed
Citlali the pipe. “Tomorrow. You will take your teepee and go
outside the tribe. I’ll send a flint knife to your lodge in the
morning, so you can take that as well. You will head out to the
sacred spot near the trees where I received my first vision. I will
fast while you are away so you may receive the spirits’ approval to
lead when I am gone.”

Citlali’s disappointment that he’d
have to leave Onawa so soon after they married was replaced with
the awareness of what the chief was saying. “Are you
ill?”

“
Not yet, but I had a dream
that my soul was light brown.”

“
Then you’ll become a
meadowlark when your soul leaves your body,” Citlali whispered,
recalling the religious knowledge he bought a year
earlier.

“
It appears that is my
destiny. I hoped to be a lodge spirit so I could stay here and
watch over you as you assume my responsibilities, but the spirits
have made their choice and it’s for the best.”

“
Perhaps you will come to
us as the meadowlark.”

“
Perhaps…if the spirits
will it.”

Citlali took the pipe back from the
chief and swallowed. “I hope the dream you had is a long time in
coming.”

“
Now, Citlali, don’t expose
your feelings. Your sorrow is apparent, and it’s not good. You must
be strong. Any time you reveal your emotions, you become
vulnerable. If you do that, you lose the respect of our people, and
they will not follow your guidance. I am counting on you to
preserve our way of life. You must not fail me in this.”

Steeling his resolve, Citlali nodded.
“I will not.”

“
Good. I don’t know when my
time will come, but when it does, I’m ready to go.”

Not wanting to give away the grief he
experienced at the thought of losing the chief, he settled for
another nod.

“
Now, we have much to
discuss,” the chief said, changing topics. “We must determine the
best way to encourage marriages between full-blooded Mandans. One
thing we are doing wrong is showing the young that marriage with
the white man—or woman—is acceptable by allowing the white people
in our tribe. I’m afraid we have to tell them to leave.”

“
What if we forbid anyone
else to marry a white person?”

“
They will see the white
people here and the marriages they are in. It will give them ideas
they don’t need to be having.”

“
I did not desire a white
woman because of this.”

“
That’s because you
understand how important it is to continue our line, our way of
life. Many have lost this desire.”

No. For him, it was more than that.
When he saw Onawa, the fact that she was a full-blooded Mandan like
him didn’t even occur to him. But he kept this thought to himself.
Perhaps what frightened the chief was the fact that the white man
encouraged one mate for life instead of multiple wives. The white
man also didn’t regard divorce with the ease the Mandans did. Their
ways were different, but based on how happy Gary and Chogan were,
maybe different wasn’t bad. Citlali would like the security in
knowing Onawa wouldn’t grow tired of him and go back to her lodge,
thereby divorcing him and taking their children with her. Gary and
Chogan didn’t have to worry about losing their wives or their
children.

The chief handed him the pipe. “This
is for the best. One day, when you’re older, you’ll
understand.”

Though Citlali doubted it, he nodded
his consent.

***

When Onawa woke up the next morning,
she was surprised Citlali hadn’t returned. Had the chief talked to
him all night? Citlali’s younger sister, Amata, had warned her that
there were nights when Citlali didn’t come back to the lodge.
Despite her disappointment, she recalled everything he’d told her
while they made love and smiled with excitement. He’d told her he
loved her! She sat up in the warm bed. He loved her. She hoped he
might like her, but what she most wanted—beyond anything else—had
come true. Too bad she didn’t get to tell him she loved him, too.
She was about to when the chief interrupted them. Her cheeks
flushed at the reminder that he’d been outside the room, waiting
for them to finish.

No. She wouldn’t dwell on that. She’d
think on the fact that her husband loved her. She no longer had to
envy Woape and Julia for marrying men who loved them. She was now a
woman who had a husband who loved her, too. And who better than
Citlali?

After getting out of bed, she got
dressed and searched for the gift Amata had given her. She found it
and hung it on the wall. It was a piece of deerskin, and on its
smooth surface were objects sacred to both Citlali’s and Onawa’s
clans.

On Citlali’s side were two sacred
turtles and a bushel of bluish-green flint corn. On her side were
bushels of yellow flint and dent corn. Above the items was a
sunrise to represent the beginning of her life with Citlali, and
under the items were sunset and stars. The sunset represented the
completion of their life together while the stars were their
children who would carry on their traditions. Around the entire
painting was a circle so that she and Citlali would always find joy
in each other. It was a beautiful gift. Onawa traced the circle and
thought of the years she and Citlali would spend
together.

With a sigh of contentment, she left
the small room to join Citlali’s family members. At the moment, his
mother and sister were stoking the fire in the middle of the lodge.
She walked over to them and waited for them to notice her before
she spoke. “Are we the only ones awake?”

His mother and sister looked her way
and smiled. “We are early risers, earlier than most,” his mother
whispered. “Is Citlali still asleep? He usually wakes up before we
do and sits in the corner over there.”

Onawa glanced at the vacant area near
the wall dedicated to male members of the tribe. “No. He left with
the chief last night and never came back.”

His mother sighed. “He’s been known to
do that, so it’s not unusual. I just thought…” With another smile,
she said, “It doesn’t matter. Would you like to help us make
something to eat?”

Onawa knew what his mother was going
to say, and had it not been for Citlali’s declaration of love,
she’d be upset. But she didn’t mind that he had to be with the
chief. As long as he loved her, she could accept the demands he
faced.

As she helped prepare the morning
meal, she waited for a moment so she could speak with Amata alone
and told her the good news. “Citlali said he loves me,” she
whispered.

Amata’s eyes grew wide and she stopped
mashing the corn in her bowl. “He actually said it?”

Blushing, she nodded. “He
did.”

“
I had no idea he knew how
to feel love.”

“
Oh, that’s silly. Of
course, he can feel love. He’s human, isn’t he?”

With a chuckle, Amata returned her
attention to the corn. “Some don’t think so. He never shows any
emotion.”