Song Of The Warrior (13 page)

“Do you ever regret it; wish you'd left me to the bear and escaped?”

“I would do it again to save you,” Bear said and he meant it. “I'm only sorry the great grizzly got our mother before I could kill it.”

They stood there, staring off at the distant peaks, each with his own thoughts. Bear thought only of Willow, knowing he must put her out of his mind completely. He had taken advantage of her innocence, and tomorrow, she would hate him for it. Yet he would always cherish her memory. Was it because the Nez Perce were formed of a heart's blood that they felt and loved so deeply?

They heard a sound and both turned. Someone was running down the trail toward them. The moon threw shadows so that Bear couldn't see who it was, but it stumbled, got up, ran on. He put his hand on the big knife in his belt, tensed. A dog began to sound the alarm, then another. A horse whinnied. The camp began to respond to the intruder.

 

 

Willow was not sure she could run one more step. Exhausted and bruised, her feet cut by the rocks and wearing the light dress, she was shivering, but nothing mattered but escaping the parson's blows. These were her mother's people; surely they would help her.

She was only dimly aware of dogs barking, people sticking their heads out of tipis. And then she saw them; Bear and Raven standing side by side. She looked into her love's face and from that moment, she saw nothing but his eyes.

Both men were reaching out to her, shouting. “Willow, what's happened?”

She didn't answer, but gave a cry of relief and ran into the haven of Bear's arms, threw her arms around his neck, knew she was safe in his embrace, forever safe.

Bear held her tightly, looking down at her in horror. “What has happened? Who has done this thing?”

She was sobbing too hard to say anything and he was on his knees, holding her close, kissing her hair, stroking her, murmuring words of comfort. She had made it this far and she knew it was far enough; no one would ever hurt her as long as she was in Bear's arms, he would protect her; cherish her. Now she looked up into his face and he scowled with a terrible hatred as he surveyed the bruises and whelps on her tender skin. “Whoever has done this will die by my hand!” His hand went to the big knife in his belt.

Rainbow came running then and the old grandmother. “What has happened? What has—?” The girl cried out in horror as she saw Willow's torn and beaten body.

“She needs help,” Bear said and swung Willow up in his arms, carried her into his tipi. He was past seeing, past thinking about anything but the woman in his arms. He tried to lay her down on a blanket but she clung to him, sobbing.

“Don't leave me! He'll come for me! He'll beat me again!”

“Willow, listen to me.” He talked softly as if speaking to a frightened child, stroking her tousled hair from her small face. His anger made him shake. “No one will hurt you, ever again. Do you hear me? You are safe now; I swear it, you are safe in my arms as you were tonight.”

She held him and cried softly against his chest. “I love you,” she whispered. “Oh, I love you! He-he came home; realized what had happened—”

“You don't have to tell it.” He kissed her forehead.

“He called me a harlot! Like my mother, he said, and he took his belt to me. I tried to resist, but he beat me and beat me!”

He held her very close and she trembled like a leaf in the wind while he swore under his breath and thought what terrible torture would be good enough for this cruel man?

“He tripped and fell and I grabbed a dress and ran out the back door, naked.”

He reached down and picked up one of her little feet. It was blistered and torn. He had not felt such turmoil and inner pain since the day the grizzly had killed his mother. Willow still had her fingers clenched in the buckskin of his shirt. Very gently, he reached up and unclenched them one by one. “You are safe now, little green-eyed girl; I promise you are safe with me.” He kissed her forehead again, loving her as he had never thought he could love a woman. Rainbow came in. “I can help.” She sounded sober for a change. “I'll bring salves and herbs.”

“Koiimize!
See about her then.” He stood up, a fiery fury burning deep within him that any man would hurt this small, defenseless woman. Bear stepped outside the lodge. He had never felt so possessive or protective. He had taken her virginity and in his mind, she was his—or at least, he wished she were. He put his hand on his knife. Old or not, the white man who had hurt his love would die for this.

Only then did he come out of his thoughts, realize Raven was staring at him. “I was in the doorway of the tipi; I heard everything!”

Raven turned and ran toward the horse herd. Bear hesitated a long moment, torn between the sobbing girl inside and his deeply hurt brother.

Behind him, the old grandmother said, “Go to him, let the woman deal with her wounds.”

Bear took off running after Raven. He caught up with him out in the darkness of the horse herd as Raven was throwing a bridle on his mount. “Raven, wait, I can explain!”

“Stay away from me!” Raven kept saddling. “My own brother; my oh so honorable brother! He goes to speak for me and seduces my bride!”

“It wasn't like that, it—”

“And then comes back with a forked tongue and says she says no. You
nesammeiek!”
He used the Nez Perce word for “liar.” “With her virgin blood still on your body; you face me and say she doesn't want to be my wife!”

“Raven, you must understand!”

“I understand!” He was shouting and the excited horses milled and snorted around them. “I understand my brother is not so honorable after all!”

“I'm only human,” Bear admitted. “I love her, too, but I would never have told you—”

“I guess not! If I had married her, would you be sneaking into her blankets at night while telling me what an honorable brother you were?”

He grabbed the younger man's arm. “Raven, I know you are angry, but you must stay and listen—”

At that point, Raven drew back his fist and hit Bear with all the strength and fury in him.

Bear felt the pain slam into his jaw and his head snapped back. He fell with the horses rearing and neighing around them.

Raven swung up on his horse. “Stay away from me,” he snarled, “or you'll regret it! I'm going to go find some whiskey and get drunk!”

With that, he dug his heels into his horse's flanks and took off at a gallop.

Bear stumbled to his feet, rubbing his jaw, tasting blood from his cut lip. He was more worried about Raven even as he watched him gallop away. His younger brother was deeply hurt and it would take time to get over it. In the meantime, Raven could do something irresponsible and reckless, get himself into a lot of trouble. What should Bear do?

About that time, Rainbow ran toward him. “I think you should come; she's almost hysterical and afraid you won't return.”

“I'll come.” Willow needed him; nothing else mattered at that moment. He could only hope Raven didn't do something terribly wild and crazy that would lead to trouble for him or the whole tribe.

 

 

Willow stopped sobbing when his big shadow loomed in the doorway. “I-I thought you would not want me.”

He gestured to the old grandmother. “I'll take over from here.” She nodded and left.

Willow breathed a sigh of relief and lay back. He looked at her bruised, naked body and she saw the horror and the anger in his eyes. “I will kill him for this.”

“No, it would bring trouble to your people; to our people. Just don't make me go back.”

“You are not going anywhere that I cannot put my arms around you and protect you, green-eyed girl.” He reached for the salve, inspected her wounds, shook his head and then began applying the soothing potion to all the welts and cuts.

She was safe. Willow closed her eyes with a sigh and relaxed, enjoying the gentle touch of his hands as he ministered to her. She tried to laugh. “Now I'm the scarred one.”

He winced. “Don't. I'm going to kill a man over this,” he promised grimly. “Don't make light of it.”

“No,” she protested, “don't do anything rash; it will cause trouble with the whites; only let me stay with you.”

He looked down at her. “Think a long time, Willow. You've been raised as a white woman; the way of the Nez Perce is hard. I could send you far away, back to some city where he couldn't get you.”

“The money—”

“For an emergency, the Nez Perce have secret treasure, gold nuggets that only we know about. We dare not spend them in town for fear of luring even more greedy white prospectors to come here.”

“No,” she shook her head, “I'll not leave you.”

“You must be feeling better,” he said. “Already, you are arguing with me.”

It was so good to be here; safe with her love. The tears welled up again in sheer relief.

“Oh, Willow, don't cry! I can't bear to see you cry.” He went on smearing ointment on her cuts.

“All right; as long as you don't leave me.”

He looked troubled, started to say something, paused, then returned to doctoring her cuts. His hands were gentle on her belly, her breasts. “Are you cold?”

“A little.”

“I'll wrap you in a blanket.”

“Please hold me.” She was trembling. When she closed her eyes, she saw the reverend coming at her with a belt.

“I might hurt those bruised places.”

“I'm afraid that if I go to sleep alone, I'll have nightmares; I want your arms around me.”

“All right, little green-eyed one, there is nothing so important to me at this moment as your resting, so I'll stay.”

He lay down next to her, gently took her into his embrace with her head on his shoulder and pulled the blanket over them both.

“You have such a big shoulder, such strong hands.” She sighed with relief.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “What have I let myself in for with you?”

She looked up into his eyes, snuggling into the secure harbor of his embrace. “Are you sorry?”

“About you? Never, I only wish . . .” His voice trailed off and a look of concern crossed his rugged features.

She wanted to ask, but she was so sleepy and she was warm now, warm and safe in his arms. She lay her face against his big chest and gradually dropped off to sleep.

Bear lay there sleepless, holding her close, protecting her from anything that might hurt her in this world or in her dreams. He loved her enough to die for her. Yet he might have to choose between her and his angry brother. He had sworn an oath to his dying mother and Bear was a warrior of much honor; he did not take such a vow lightly. Worse yet, Raven might even now be galloping into trouble. Bear felt the weight of both Raven and the tribe's well-being weighing heavily on his soul.

But tonight, the girl slept in his embrace and she needed him. Nothing else mattered so much. He lay there all night and held her while she slept, but he knew, come the dawn, there was going to be plenty of trouble and there was no changing that.

Raven had never felt such rage and pain as he did now, galloping away from the camp under the midnight sky. He rode blindly, not caring what would happen or even where he was going.

His own brother had betrayed him! No one had to give Raven any explanation. He had seen the way Willow had run into Bear's arms as if she didn't even see Raven. He had not ridden the war trail like Bear or brought back booty from raids. Things like that meant a lot to women; they wanted to brag about their men, sing songs about their brave deeds around the campfires. Raven intended to make some drastic changes. He gritted his teeth so hard, his jaw hurt as he urged his pony on. At the very edge of the Nez Perce hunting grounds, he crossed the path of his two good friends, Pony and Five Stars. They were as young and carefree in attitude as he was. The other night in town, they had been as drunk as he was when he had tangled with the army scout called Tanner. Raven reined in, hailed them. “Hallo, friends! Where go you?”

“Ho, Raven. Like the others, we have been rounding up our families' livestock; time grows short to move camp.”

The second one looked at Raven curiously and leaned on his pony's neck. “A better question, is where go you at such a late hour with a horse lathered and run to the ground? Your brother would be upset at your treating a horse so—”

“My brother! My brother!” Raven almost shouted at him. “I am weary of having him thrown up to me with all his war honors and many horses!”

“We know that feeling, too.” The first nodded gravely. His two friends were sometimes as irresponsible as Raven himself. “There have been few war parties lately where a very young brave might win booty and eagle feathers.”

“I say tonight, we change all that.” Raven was in a fury. “We go raid a ranch or two, those
shoyapees
who have treated us most badly; perhaps that isolated trading post that has cheated us!”

The two looked at him, then at each other. “It will cause more trouble.”

Raven snorted with derision. “How much more trouble can there be? You are beginning to sound like old women. The whites treat us like dogs and Chief Joseph allows it.”

“They outnumber us. As chief, he and his leaders, too, must think of the welfare of the whole tribe.”

“Since when does a Nez Perce brave care if he is outnumbered? Besides, the whites treat us badly, no matter if we grovel in the dust like dogs,” Raven said. “Even our own people don't accept us as warriors.”

The other two looked at each other. “What you say is true, but we have no wish to die this night.”

Raven snorted again, reining in the horse that danced under him. “I speak not of dying, but of living like a man, not a dog! None of us has war honors, so the women we want will not consider us.”

The pair looked at the ground, silently acknowledging this humiliating fact.

“Think,” Raven challenged, “think how it would feel to ride into our camp with fresh white scalps hanging on our lances; carrying trinkets that delight women, driving a big herd of stolen white men's horses before us!”

He watched their dark faces, experiencing with them the image, that shout of exultation and victory as they rode in, singing a warrior's song of fresh scalps and captured loot. The three young men would finally gain
simiakia,
some attention; women would smile at them.

The other two paused uncertainly. “If we do this, there will be much trouble from the war leaders like Ollokot.”

Raven swore the white man's oaths he had learned. “They have their war honors and their women, well might they tell us no.”

“If we came driving a big herd of horses and carrying much booty, it would be difficult to disapprove of us; especially since we are about to leave this area,” Five Stars thought aloud.

Raven came up with the final, winning argument. “If we hit that distant trading post, there will be good rifles for the taking and much whiskey.”

“Let us do this thing,” Pony said.

His friend nodded. “We may die before dawn or we may finally win war honors; either way, it will be better than crawling on our bellies like dogs.”

Raven grinned and nudged his horse. In his mind, he saw himself throwing his trophies down in front of Willow, making her regret that she had chosen Bear, perhaps yet changing her mind. “Let us go then.” He quirted his horse and the three took off at a gallop.

 

 

It was not yet dawn as Willow opened her eyes, glanced around, tried to figure out where she was. When she moved slightly, her body hurt and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning. The glow of the small fire revealed that she lay in the sleeping Bear's arms. The events of last night came back to her. Reverend Harlow might be searching for her even now to beat her some more. She stirred and Bear's dark eyes opened. For a long moment, he, too, looked puzzled, then he smiled at her. “Are you all right, green-eyed girl?”

Fear returned to her soul. “The preacher will be coming for me, probably with a sheriff or the general to make me return to town.”

He shook his head, didn't release her from his embrace as he reached out and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. “You are safe, Willow, I would protect you with my life. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, I'll try to help you.”

She looked into his gentle dark eyes as he smiled at her. Bear had made love to her with a passion, taken her to heights of ecstasy she had not known she was capable of.

“You don't answer,” he said with a somber face, “you regret giving yourself to me? That was my fault, I shouldn't have taken—”

“I love you.” She reached up and kissed him.

“Oh, Willow.” He pulled her close, trembling with emotion. “I was afraid you would regret last night; I have never even dared hope a girl like you would love me.” He began to kiss her lips, her eyes, her cheeks.

“But you don't love me enough to want me for your woman?”

He paused, looking down at her. “I never dreamed you would even consider that. I thought this morning, after you had a chance to think it over, you would go back to the settlement, make peace with your guardian and marry the lieutenant.”

“Not if you'll keep me yours forever,” she whispered, “and take me with you when our people go from this place.”

“What will we do about Raven?” He kissed her forehead.

Raven. She remembered now the startled anger on his handsome face as she had brushed past him and run into Bear's protective embrace. “Neither of us ever meant to hurt him. Even if I hadn't loved you, I wouldn't have been his woman. Where is he?”

Bear's face furrowed with concern. “I don't know; probably off drinking whiskey with his friends. He was hurt and angry; I should go look for him now that I'm sure you're all right.”

She caught his arm to keep him from getting up. “He's a wild, irresponsible boy,” Willow soothed, “he'll get over this.”

“I promised my mother I would take care of him.”

“I know,” she said, touching his face, “but sooner or later, he needs to take some responsibility himself or he will never be a respected warrior.” She kissed him again and he responded with ardor, but suddenly pulled back. “You're hurt and bruised.”

She felt tears come to her eyes as she smiled up at him. “You are the only person who has ever been kind and gentle with me.” She kissed his fingertips and placed his big hand on her breast. “It feels good to belong to you,” she whispered. “I want to please you.”

“I can wait.” Yet his hand seemed to cup her breast instinctively and it felt good there. She felt desire stir deep inside, even though her body was bruised.

“Now that you have taught me this thrill, I don't think I'll ever get enough of you.”

“Nor I you,” he murmured and began kissing her feverishly. “If I took you a dozen times a day, I would never have my fill of you.”

“I am and will always be yours and yours alone.” She reached to put her hand on his big manhood.

“Oh, Willow, are you sure you want to become a Nez Perce woman? Think of what you'll be giving up—”

“I think only of what I gain.” She slipped her arms around his sinewy neck and kissed the corners of his mouth. “As soon as possible, I want to give you a son. What do we need to become man and wife in the Nez Perce way?”

His eyes grew moist. “We stand up, embrace each other, and say vows that we will never be parted until death. Only after that may you belong to someone else.”

“Then may you live forever,” Willow whispered. “Let us say these words quickly, my dear one, before anyone can separate us.” She stood up and reached down to him.

Bear took her hand and his eyes never left her face as he stood up very slowly, reached to wrap a blanket around the two of them in a ceremonial manner. “I, Hohots, pledge that there will never be another in my heart but you, Willow.”

Willow took a deep breath and put both small hands on his dear, dark face. All her life she had been alone and searching, but she hadn't known what it was she yearned for. Now she knew; that perfect love, given by a man who adored her enough to give his life for her, make any sacrifice. “And in my heart, only you,” she vowed. She touched her left breast. “I hold you in my
timine.”
Then she kissed him.

He held her close against his wide chest, stroking her hair. “I had not known a man could care so much for a woman; it scares me.”

She laughed softly and looked up at him. “The great warrior, Bear, is scared? I promise that I, in turn, will do anything for you, go anywhere you go. No hardship is too great; no distance too far; no sacrifice too much.”

Very gently now, he pulled her close and kissed her. “If I could be sure Raven was happy, that would make my joy complete.”

“He'll get over this,” Willow said again, “and within days, no doubt he'll be looking at other maidens.”

“I wish I could be that sure; I feel I have betrayed him.”

She shook her head. “You made the offer for him, it was my choice. It is high time Raven stop feeling self-pity and grew up.”

“It's more than self-pity,” Bear answered, “it's guilt.”

“The only way Raven will ever feel like a real man is when he stops depending on you; begins to act like a warrior. When dawn comes, then you can organize a search for him.”

“You are right, of course.” He looked into her eyes. “There is only one thing more now we must do to complete the ceremony; the ritual pleasing of each other's body after we say the words, but it can wait—”

“Oh, please! I want it finalized; I want to belong to you totally and completely so it cannot be changed, ever.”

“In that case. . . .” He pulled her to him and kissed her. “I will be gentle with you, Green Eyes.”

She smiled and returned his kiss, slipping her tongue between his lips and rubbing her breasts slowly against his muscular chest.

She heard his sharp intake of breath and he pulled her closer against his hard manhood.

“Gently,” Willow reminded him as he pulled her down to the soft fur robe before the fire and opened her thin calico dress so that he could cover her breasts with his big hands.

With a groan, he kissed her breasts, laved them with his tongue until she, too, was gasping. His mouth began to caress every inch of her body, beginning between her breasts and kissing lower to the hollow of her belly. “I will please you, my woman, without hurting you, I promise.”

Before she realized what he intended, he kissed his way down one of her silky thighs and reached to part them.

“You-you aren't going to kiss me there?”

In answer, he did and she instinctively let her thighs open, arching her body up to his hot, eager mouth. She should stop him. She should . . . then his tongue probed and she forgot everything except catching his dark head between her hands, holding him there so he could pleasure and probe her sweetness. Nothing else mattered as he loved her, while his hands covered her breasts and caressed her nipples until they swelled with desire. Willow was only vaguely aware in her need that his big hands slipped under her small hips, lifting her to his hot, wet mouth where he could drink in her nectar like a bee dipping deep into an exotic blossom.

She grasped his manhood, wanting to do the same. However, her excitement was building and she began to slip into blackness.

“Wait for me, Willow,” he whispered, “wait for me....”

“I-I can't!” She couldn't stop herself from convulsing with passion. Her fire ignited his and she felt him gasp and stiffen, then a hot rush of seed flowed over her hand. For a long, shuddering moment, she knew nothing but darkness.

When Willow opened her eyes again, he leaned on one elbow, staring down at her while he brushed damp, dark hair from her eyes. “Such a waste. Had I planted that seed deeply, you might already be creating a son for me.”

“I'll do that yet,” she promised. “I'll give you sons; more than one.” She realized the first gray light of dawn was filtering into the tipi.

Bear stood and began to dress hurriedly. “Now I must go look for Raven before he gets into trouble.”

“Perhaps he has calmed down; has not done anything rash.” She sat up and watched his muscular body as he moved. Yes, he was scarred, but they were dear scars to her, scars of bravery. He was more virile than any man she could have dreamed of.

“I know Raven better than you.” He sighed. Evidently, looking out for his spoiled brother was becoming a heavy task.

“Then
kuse timine
,” she whispered in the Nez Perce language; go with a good heart.

He turned and smiled at her. “I love you so. I'll be back soon; we have to get this camp ready to move. I—”

At that moment, she heard shouts and galloping horses outside that interrupted Bear's words. Dogs began to bark and people yelled. A rudely awakened baby wailed as the camp came awake in the confusion. Willow and Bear looked at each other, ran outside just as Raven and his two friends galloped into camp, driving a small herd of lathered horses. Their faces were painted scarlet and black, their ponies painted for war. When Willow took a deep breath, she smelled the reek of cheap whiskey.