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Authors: Georgina Gentry

Song Of The Warrior (32 page)

BOOK: Song Of The Warrior
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“I'm not saying anything,” Bear said, looking out toward the soldiers' tents in the distance, “Joseph has called a meeting later tonight.”

The cold wind carried the scent of frying bacon and hot coffee from the distant soldiers' camp. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, bit off a hunk of the hardtack. At least they had this and they were all alive. Now if they could just survive this terrible, chill night. There was so much she wanted to say to these two men, and yet, there was really nothing to say. She decided that anything she said would sound stupid and shallow. She had loved them both and they had both loved her. If the army began a night attack, the three of them might not see daybreak.

Raven cleared his throat. “I wish it was a moonlit night,” he said softly, “or that we had a fire. Time would pass more quickly if you read to us, Willow.”

“It's just a novel,” she said, “real life isn't like romantic novels.”

“Maybe,” Raven whispered, “romantic novels are not about what life really is, but what it should be.”

“Such idealistic thoughts.” Willow tried to keep her voice light. In her mind, she saw Sydney Carton going to his death in another man's place for the love of a woman.

Soon the signal went out for the noted warriors to gather. Bear and Raven went. Joseph stared at the ground as if his mind were a million miles away. “The soldiers are going to wait us out.”

Old White Bird's fierce face hardened. “We may not have another night like this one, dark and foggy. When the other soldiers come, we will have no chance at all.”

Joseph stared at him. “What is it you say?”

The old chief looked around. “I say we make a run for it tonight, slip through their lines. We could be almost to Canada by dawn.”

Bear said, “We can't take everyone; someone has to stay and hold the soldiers back so the others can go.”

Joseph nodded. “And there's the wounded.”

Looking Glass shook his head. “They slow the march down. They will have to stay here and take their chances along with anyone who can't move fast; small babies who might cry. We can't risk alerting the soldiers.”

Chief Joseph sighed. “I am chief; I cannot leave any of my people behind while I escape to safety.”

“But if we stay,” another argued, “the soldiers will kill us all.”

“I am not asking any man to stay, that is for each man to decide in his own heart,” Joseph said, “but as chief, I cannot leave any behind.”

There was more talk, each man attempting to decide what he would do. Bear stared at the pipe in his hands. He was an honored warrior and he had already made his decision. “If the soldiers suspect anything, they may begin shooting their cannon again.”

Everyone paused at his words. The cannon had left the camp littered with broken bodies. The frozen snow was still red from them.

White Bird said, “Someone must lead those who escape, they will need a chief.”

“Then you take the people out,” Joseph said. “I will be one of those who stays behind to hold the soldiers off. Each man makes his own choice, but I will need good warriors to protect those who cannot go.”

The meeting broke up, but Bear had already decided what he would do. They returned to the bluff. “I will stay,” he said, “you take Willow out of here.”

“As always,” Raven said, “you want to be the noble one, the great warrior.”

Bear shrugged and in his heart, he was sad. “She is carrying your son; it is only right that you be the one to go with her. Perhaps you two should have been together from the start; I was always too old for her, but from the first moment I saw her . . .” His voice trailed off and he could not continue. “Besides,” he said a little too brightly, “I promised our mother I would take care of you.”

“I will never hear the end of that, will I, big brother?” Raven shrugged, but his voice wasn't angry. “You've saved my life twice now; isn't it time I got to be the honored warrior once?”

“Raven,” Bear reasoned, “she's expecting your child; it is only right that you become her man. Now go help her load her travois, there's something stirring out there, I think the soldiers will try to run off the rest of the pony herd, maybe, and in that excitement, a small group like White Bird's might get away.”

“You're right,” Raven said, “and we don't have a lot of time to argue this; White Bird will be leaving soon. He must put a lot of miles between him and the army before dawn when they discover some are missing.”

Willow hurried up just then and knelt between them. “There's rumors among the women that we are going to try to sneak away in the darkness.”

“That's right.” Bear warned Raven with his eyes. “Now get your travois and take War Paint; he's strong enough for anything that might come up.”

“But you'll need him yourself,” Willow protested.

“Of course,” Bear said, “I'll explain later. Just get everything ready. White Bird will be leaving in a few minutes and I hear soldiers scurrying around out there in the darkness. We only stand a chance of escaping if we leave during the confusion.”

He saw the relief shining in her eyes. “We're all going?”

Raven hesitated. “Of course, now let me help you get your things together.” He gave Bear a long look and then the pair crouched down and sneaked through the chill darkness.

Bear sighed, watching them go. This was the way it should be. The woman he loved was carrying his brother's child. There was no way to work this out except that he stay behind so those two could escape. She might protest a little, but her first thought must be of her baby. Bear didn't care what happened to him anymore; it only mattered that the tribe survive, that his beloved Willow live free in the vast wilderness to the north.

He tried not to remember the way she had felt in his arms, the taste of her sweet mouth. She belonged to Raven now; and his brother had matured into a respected warrior. Raven would take good care of the woman they both loved.

Behind him, he was vaguely aware of movement as horses were bridled and the people who were going made ready. He was glad it was dark so he could not see the faces of the old and the wounded, the ones who would stay behind with him to face death or capture. Bear had faced death many times and lived, but this time, he knew it was a hopeless cause. He could only hope to sell his life dearly, make the soldiers pay in blood if they tried to follow those escaping toward the border.

There was noise out ahead of him. Bear closed one eye and looked down his rifle barrel. The soldiers were getting ready to try something; hoping for the advantage of surprise, hoping to catch the people asleep again as they had this morning when they had killed so many. Bear was not afraid to die. He would do so willingly to save the woman he loved. And he had his warrior's song ready to sing when the soldiers mounted the attack.

Behind him, Raven and Willow came up.

“She's ready,” Raven said, and he sounded calm and brave.

Willow seemed to bristle. “What do you mean, ‘she's ready'? I thought we all were going?”

Instead of answering her, Bear asked his brother, “Where's the old grandmother and the children?”

“Still in the dugout,” Raven said, “I'll get them in a minute.”

“Oh,” Willow exclaimed, “I forgot something!” She turned and ran back to their destroyed lodge.

They both watched her go.

Raven paused, swallowed hard. “I suppose this may be goodbye.” He held out his hand awkwardly and the two shook. “I am sorry, Bear, I never meant—”

“It is all right, brother,” Bear said softly and suddenly he was at peace. “We both love her. Take good care of her.”

Raven hesitated. “She is beautiful; no man could resist her; certainly not me.”

Bear nodded. “I know; I don't hate you for it.”

Neither said anything for a long moment, not looking at each other. The silence was awkward, but they were warriors and neither knew how to express the deep feeling in their hearts.

Bear cleared his throat. “I want you to know how proud I am of you, Raven, you've become a great warrior.”

“I had a good teacher.” Raven attempted to smile and Bear saw tears glistening in his dark eyes.

Willow came running back just then, breathless. “I had forgotten my book. White Bird has a bunch mounted and ready to leave. We'll get the grandmother and the children and you two can—”

“Willow,” Bear said, “someone's got to stay and cover the retreat.” He looked at her, loving her as he had never thought he could love a woman. “It is right that you go with Raven now.”

Her eyes widened as she realized what he was saying and she fell to her knees beside him. “No! No! I won't go without you! I'll stay and die right here!” She was sobbing and he reached out, put his hand over her mouth. “Hush, little green-eyed one,” he whispered and he had to swallow hard, “you'll alert the soldiers. You must go now. Raven will help White Bird get a few people out; the rest of us will stay behind and fight.”

She was struggling in his arms, shaking her head; her hot tears dripping on his big hand. Very slowly, he leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. “Always remember that I loved you,” he said. “I tried so hard not to, but maybe it was just meant to be, if only for a brief moment in time.”

“Oh, Bear! My darling!” She stopped fighting then as if she realized that arguing was useless. Her shoulders slumped and her slim body shook with sobs.

“All right, little brother,” he said, “I think she'll go now. Take her out of here.”

“Brother . . .” Raven began.

Bear shook his head. “Don't say anything more; I can't stand it. Leave; leave as fast as possible!”

And in that instant, all hell broke loose as the soldiers attacked again and the big cannon began to boom. Bear turned loose of Willow and grabbed his rifle, “Raven, here's your chance! In all this confusion, you can escape!” He glanced toward White Bird, leading his little group out in the flash of the gunfire, then turned and began firing at the coming soldiers.

“No!” Willow pulled out of Raven's grasp. “You two think to decide for me? I am a Nez Perce woman, I'll make my own choices! Bear, I'm going to stay by your side and if you die, I die with you! Raven, get the grandmother, you only have moments to leave!” She grabbed up Raven's rifle. She would stay with the man she loved!

Raven turned at the explosion and realized abruptly that the dugout was the target. People were stumbling out of the smoking ruins. The cannon shells exploded around them and in the distance, he saw a glimpse of the little handful riding out the back, sneaking through the sentries. He knew then what he was going to do, had known it all along. Someone had to take Willow out of here, but she would rather die by Bear's side than live with any other man. “Bear.”

When Bear looked up, Raven motioned toward Willow with his head. He saw the look on Bear's face, knew he understood. His brother grabbed the girl. “Here, you are leaving this place.”

As Raven watched, Bear swung the protesting girl up in his arms and lifted her to his big horse. “Now, Willow, you must go, they'll need you in Canada; Raven will need you.”

“And Bear will need you,” Raven whispered and then he hit Bear across the head and caught him as he collapsed. “Sorry, brother, you always stay behind and risk your life; it's finally my turn.”

As Willow watched incredulously, Raven dumped his unconscious brother on the travois. “He'll be all right by morning and it will be too late for him to return.”

“But—”

He held up his hand to silence her. In the noise of exploding shells and screaming men, he was not sure she could hear him. “You love him more than me, Willow, I always knew you did. I give you his life as a gift.”

She began to cry. “Oh, Raven, what can I say?”

“Say?” He tried to smile. “Say nothing but that you'll tell my son how I was a brave warrior after all. Bear saved my life twice, now I save two lives. It is a fair exchange.”

She leaned over and put her arms around his neck and he felt her shake with sobs. “Oh, Raven, Raven....”

“Remember, I loved you both,” he whispered and he took her tear-streaked little face between his two big hands and kissed her lips. “Like your Sydney Carton, I, too, can be a man of honor.”

She started to say something, then paused, with a trembling hand, she held out the book.

He took it reverently. “Now, leave, my dear one, while you still can.”

She hesitated again, the shells exploding all around them.

“I'll come on tomorrow,” he said and he saw from her expression that she knew he lied. The only ones who would escape were those riding out in the moonless confusion tonight with White Bird. She looked down at Bear lying unconscious on the travois.

She was a Nez Perce woman and she could do what she must. “Thank you, Raven, we'll never forget you.”

He nodded and waved her away. “
Taz alago.”

“T—taz alago,”
she whispered, choked on her tears, then swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and turned the big horse toward Canada. She reined in near the dugout, realized it was afire. “Where's the grandmother and Atsi?”

A younger woman looked up at her, a woman covered with blood. She pointed toward the burning dugout, shook her head, then fell in the frozen snow and died.

She must not scream, Willow thought, she must get Bear out of here, she must save Raven's unborn child. A small child stumbled out of the smoke. “Cub!” she recognized him, “Come here, little Cub!”

The toddler paused, then ran toward her. She leaned over, held out her hand as he reached up to her. Willow's fingers closed over his little ones and it took all the strength she had left to pull him up before her. He buried his face against her and she held him close, nudged her horse into a walk, out of the camp. “It will be all right,” she whispered, “it will be all right.”

BOOK: Song Of The Warrior
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