Chapter 20 #2
“Sabrina, there are thousands of Sioux and Cheyenne just beyond that hill over there. Thousands upon thousands. More than I have witnessed together in all my life.”
“Oh, God, Sloan, the more reason we have to run! Sloan, you’ve just saved me from that man, taken me from him. Let’s escape—”
“Sabrina! I was allowed to save you from him.”
“Allowed?” she repeated. Then he saw in her eyes that she was beginning to understand that he was a prisoner himself.
“Allowed? Oh, God, Sloan, please, think, do something, dear God…” Her voice trailed away as she looked at him, then came back in force.
“I can’t die now. Damn you, Sloan, put me down, I—”
“Sweet Jesu, Sabrina, don’t you dare argue with me now!” he warned her angrily. She had to understand their position, he thought. He didn’t dare display his fear; he could only show anger.
“Sloan, set me down, I—”
“Indeed. Madam…” He turned in a sudden fury, setting her down.
But she gasped aloud, staggering back against him.
More warriors had arrived on the scene. Dozens of them.
He felt her shivering.
“Just a fraction of my friends and family,” he murmured, drawing her close against him so that his chin was just above her forehead and his arms were around her waist in a both defensive and protective gesture.
One of the warriors broke away from the others, riding forward.
“Silver Knife, a lieutenant to Crazy Horse,” Sloan informed her softly.
“Oh, God, Sloan, what exactly is going on?” she asked, her voice rising as she nervously tried to pull free from him.
He pulled her back. “Sabrina, stop it!” he warned quietly.
“The situation here is critical. I’m terribly sorry to disappoint you, for though I did my best to ride to your rescue like a knight in shining armor, I am, myself, a prisoner at this moment.
It’s only because one of Hawk’s cousins saw that you were the woman in the party Gray Heron rode to attack that I was allowed to ride after him.
Of course,” he continued with a bitter edge, “what in God’s name you’re doing out here is far more than I can fathom!
If we weren’t in such dire trouble, I’d be tempted to take you over my knee for being so foolish and headstrong. ”
She was silent, trembling in his arms. Dear God, how he wished he could reassure her now.
Silver Knife spoke to him. “This matter must be decided between the two of you. Gray Heron thinks that you have no rights, that you are a traitor to our people. Crazy Horse says, though, that you have never betrayed us, and that you have always helped our people. So the matter will be between you and Gray Heron, and the Great Mystery. We go back to the camp now, and the matter will be decided.”
Sloan nodded to him. He lifted Sabrina up and set her atop the lathered horse he had raced across the plain in order to reach her. He quickly leaped up behind her.
They were instantly flanked by other Indians. “Where are we going?” Sabrina asked Sloan.
“Back to the camp.”
They came upon the camp just over the rise. Sloan had yet to see it from this angle. It seemed to stretch forever.
Silver Knife came to a halt in the center of the camp, in front of a small tipi. It was empty, the home of a widower who had recently remarried and gone to his new wife’s home.
Sloan leaped down from the horse and reached up for Sabrina. She set her hands on his shoulders and slid down before him. “You have to go in there,” he told her.
“Alone?” she queried, her voice trembling.
He couldn’t falter, and he couldn’t allow her to do so.
Not while he was still breathing. “I’ll be with you when the matter has been decided.”
“What matter?” she asked.
He had to tell her something of the truth. “Gray Heron is not one of our band. He thinks that I should have been killed instead of taken prisoner, and he insists that because he found you, he has a right to you.”
Sabrina gasped. He thought that she was going to fall.
“Stand up straight,” he commanded her sharply. “Trust in me for once, my love. Will you do that, please?”
She stiffened; finding strength. She met his eyes and nodded. “Oh, God, how long—”
“Matters will be settled quickly,” he assured her.
“They know that Custer is out there somewhere, looking for them. They are looking for him as well. I’ll be with you soon.
Dammit, Sabrina, I’ve never seen you back down from anything in your life.
You’ve sure as hell never backed down with me.
Show those claws of yours. I’m well aware that you have them. ”
She pushed away from him, her shoulders squared and her head held high. She looked straight ahead as she walked into the tipi.
He longed to follow her; he knew that he could not.
With Silver Knife, Gray Heron, and an escort of warriors, he walked through the camp. They came to Sitting Bull’s tipi. Many men entered with Sloan and Gray Heron.
Gray Heron spoke first, saying that he had killed the trappers because it was war, and the soldiers were out to find them.
Custer, the Son of the Morning Star, was vowing to put an end to the hostilities.
Gray Heron had not just a right but a duty to kill Whites, and he had done so, and the woman was his.
Sloan argued simply that he was Sioux, and that Sabrina was his wife. And that she had no desire to go to Gray Heron. He never once let Gray Heron believe that he was fearful of being a soldier among his father’s people.
Sitting Bull conferred with other chiefs.
Cougar-in-the-Night was Sioux; no one denied that.
Perhaps he had been captured before he’d had a chance to betray his people, but it didn’t matter—he had never done so.
In memory of his father, for his family, he had the same rights as any other man.
They both wanted the woman. They would endure purification, and they would fight for her.
Sloan was allowed to go back to her, just briefly. With an escort.
He was amazed to see how late it had become as he walked back to the tipi where she waited under guard. He was guarded himself by two young warriors he didn’t know. At least they didn’t follow him as he slipped into the tipi.
Sabrina had been sitting. She sprang to her feet, racing the few steps to him.
He reached out for her and he drew her to him very hard.
He was terrified for her, and he could not let her see it.
He was desperate to touch her as well, yet the savagery of his passionate kiss was tempered by a strange, wild sweetness.
He couldn’t let her go, couldn’t have enough of holding her, feeling her in his arms, tasting her.
“Sloan, dear God, what’s happening?” she whispered when he released her at last.
He kissed her again, deeply, his fingertips playing over her face, his hands cupping her breasts, sliding down her body.
“Sloan?”
Why had she come? he wondered. He wanted her— wanted her more than he wanted life. She stared at him so anxiously, and he smiled.
“Would you fight me?” he queried softly.
“What? No—”
“Ah, not here, not now! Not with all the Sioux Nation about to go to war.”
“No, I would not fight you!”
“Pity, for we have no time!” he murmured dryly.
“No time? Sloan, please!”
He sighed. “This whole matter is an annoyance to the chiefs here, you see. The Sioux have been pushed very hard, and they are making a stand. Your party was attacked because the Sioux do not want their position betrayed before the fighting starts. Anyway, Gray Heron is adamant about having you, so it seems that I have to fight him for the privilege of keeping you as my wife.”
“My God, Sloan, no!”
“Such faith!”
“He’ll try to kill you—”
“Yes, well, that will be the point.”
“Sloan, dear God, please, don’t die, please, don’t die!”
“I’ll do my best,” he promised. “Listen to me, Sabrina. Whatever happens now, you’re safe for the time being.
Warriors don’t—” He hesitated, then shrugged his shoulders.
“They don’t copulate before battle. God knows exactly when this battle will take place, but it will be terrible.
Sioux braves believe that being with a woman will make them unpure for the fighting.
In the event that something happens to me, you’ll have time to get someone to take you to Crazy Horse.
He’ll be honor-bound to protect you because of our friendship in the past.”
“Sloan, stop, dear God, please—” she begged him.
He couldn’t bear this. His fingers tightened upon her shoulders. “What the hell are you doing out here anyway?” he demanded furiously. “I told you never to leave the fort without me again. I warned you—”
“I came to find you!” she protested desperately. “I came to find you because a Crow spy told a soldier at the fort that you were no longer safe from the Sioux, that they would kill you if they felt threatened. You weren’t trusted going back and forth between two worlds. I had to find you—”
“Why?” he demanded bluntly. “Why?” he repeated raggedly. “We’d both know you were lying if you were to tell me there haven’t been a good half-dozen times in the past year when you wouldn’t have gladly seen me as a pincushion for Sioux arrows.”
“Sloan, I was trying to tell you—”
He pulled away from her suddenly; his “escorts” were coming for him. It was time to fight.
There was no more time to talk. “It seems that I have to leave, my love. If I do return, I promise, I’ll be expecting to hear a great deal from you.”
One of the braves took his arm; he shook off the touch. He drew Sabrina to him one last time; the force of his kiss was wickedly hard, yet he couldn’t seem to control himself.
He heard a soft but steady drumbeat, heralding the fight. The chiefs did not want the drummers to alert a band of soldiers to their position.
He had to let her go. He did so, and took her hand, bowed over it, lightly breathed a kiss against her fingers. “Until we meet again, my love,” he murmured.
He turned to walk away, by his own willpower, without the restraining arms of those sent to guard him.
“Sloan!”
He was startled when she cried out, racing after him.
He turned, frowning as he saw the tears streaming down her cheeks.
She flung herself against his chest, and he held her again.
“You can’t die!” she told him quickly. “Another reason why I came to find you is because I didn’t expect you to be gone when I woke up the morning after…
after…when I woke up that morning. I’d waited because I wanted to be really sure.
I wanted to be past what the midwife told me was the dangerous time.
I didn’t want to disappoint you again after everything. I—”
His fingers pushed her hair back from her forehead. He tilted her chin upward.
“What are you saying, Sabrina?”
“You can’t die. We’re expecting a child again, Sloan.”
A high-pitched, keening war cry suddenly seemed to shatter the night. One of the braves came to Sloan.
“It’s time!” the warrior announced, taking Sloan by the arm. Sloan didn’t protest; he barely noticed.
He’d wanted a family. A family with her. A life together.
If he died, he thought, at least he would die now, knowing this. He would make sure that his family knew, and Sabrina and his child, would be safe.
He stared down at Sabrina, wishing he could tell her what it meant to him. But the second brave came around her, pulling her away from Sloan.
“Let her go! I will come with you,” Sloan said.
The Sioux released her. Sloan started out. She started to run after him again, refusing to accept the fact that he would be taken away.
The brave who stopped her didn’t hurt her; he just held her.
“Really?” Sloan asked her.
“Yes.”
“You’re quite certain.”
She nodded. “That’s why…I waited so long to tell you.”
“When?”
“The baby will arrive in late November.”
“Well,” he murmured, trying to sound light and assured.
“I should definitely be back by then. Go back to the tipi, Sabrina. For God’s sake, keep yourself safe!
” Then he walked away quickly. He shook off the brave who held him again, determined that he would walk to engage in his battle with Gray Heron completely on his own.
“Sloan!” she cried out again, her voice sounding strange and anguished.
He paused, then turned slowly. She stood very tall and very beautiful, with firelight glinting in her long, dark hair.
She had come out here to find him, to warn him that he was in danger…
to tell him about their child. And he suddenly realized that he had everything in life that was worth fighting for.
“My love, I will be back,” he vowed.
He would be back; by God, he would be back.
He had to survive.
Because there was so much he was going to have to teach his son.
He would teach him about a proud people who had lived and fought and died upon the plain. And who would live, in a legend of bravery and courage, forever.
He would come back.
Because he loved her.