Blackbird (8 page)

She was lying in some sort of small, dome-shaped lodge.  The tiny lodge was filled with things that spoke of a man’s domain.  Muskets, tomahawks, and fishing baskets and traps were tossed everywhere.  A fire burned in a pit in the center of the floor, and a square smoke hole was cut in the roof for draft.  Tiny stars shined through the hole.  She must have been unconscious for hours.

Adahya was looking down at her.  She stared into his deep eyes, recalling the events of yesterday.  She had kissed him, swam naked with him, and he had proposed to her.  Sort of.  Then he had tried to kill her.  Confusion and anger simmered within her.  He was no longer the friend she had started to consider him.  She had refused him, so he was forcing her to stay with him.  She would not do it!

Katherine sat up and glared at him, her anger quickly making her numb with mounting rage.

“Welcome to my home, Chogan.”

With all her might, she hit him square in the mouth.

A tiny river of blood trickled from his bottom lip.  She watched it, not quite satisfied.  Then slapped him hard.  “I will not be your prisoner!”

“I do not wish you to be my prisoner.”

“And I told you I would not live with you.  I have no interest in you or your--those savages you call your family!”  She touched her eye and winced.  “You let them hit me.  You didn’t even try to stop them!”

“I didn’t see them until it was too late.”  His look was apologetic, as if he might actually be trying to understand her emotions.  “I am sorry, Katherine.  I will not let them harm you again.”

“I want to go home.”

“Your home is with Adahya now.”

Katherine hit him again.  She was about to slap him once more when he caught her wrists and squeezed it immobile.  “If you strike me again, I will snap your wrist.”

Fear momentarily replaced anger, reminding her that he was not a man but a dangerous Mohawk, and she was alone with him as his prisoner.  She relaxed her arm, and he released his grip.  Defeated for the moment, she lay back on the pallet, utterly exhausted.

Adahya stretched out on the bearskin beside her.  He rolled on his side so he was looking down at her.  He was entirely too close, and his eyes were looking at her entirely too intensely, but every muscle in her body hurt, and she suddenly did not have the strength to care.

“Tomorrow I will show you around my village.  After I explain that you are my woman, they will no longer be cruel to you.”

“No, I’m sure they will show me even more compassion as they did today,” she sarcastically shot back.

He frowned as if he did not understand her tone.  “They thought you were my prisoner today.”

“I am your prisoner!”

“No, Chogan.”  He stroked her hair, but she pushed his hand away.  Tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she frantically brushed them away.  “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because you are attractive to Adahya.”

Her stupid mouth!

He began stroking her hair again, and she frantically slapped him away.  “Don’t use my words against me.”

“What does that mean?”

Refusing to answer, she covered her face with her hands.

“Do not worry, Chogan.  You will get used to me.”

Hating herself for it, yet unable to stop herself, Katherine let her tears flow.  This was all her fault.  Her big mouth was always getting her into trouble, but this was the worst yet.  She would never see Joshua again.  He would always wonder what had happened to her, and there would be no one to tell him.

Adahya slid his arm under her neck and cradled her head against his chest.  She allowed his arms to envelope her, comforted only by the fact that it felt so good to be held.

“Tomorrow will be a better day for you,” he spoke against her ear.

She cried herself to sleep in his arms.

CHAPTER NINE

ADAHYA glared at his mother.  She-who-commands was beyond anger.  Hating the white eyes was understandable, but she was overreacting.  Which was nothing new.

“What do you expect of me?”  Her tone was sarcastic.

“I want you to be respectful.  Katherine is deserving of that.”

“My respect!”  She paced the longhouse, her step tired and labored.  She-who-commands was a powerful matriarch for his clan, and at fifty-nine winters she had not lost her authoritativeness.  Especially with her sons.

Adahya challenged her look of scorn.  “You will be respectful to her.  If you do not, I will have nothing to do with you.”

This seemed to strike a nerve in her, and she stopped pacing.  “You could have chosen a nice Hodenosaunee woman in the village or in any village.  Why do you not use better judgment?”

“Like you did when you chose Song for me?”

Her black eyes were apologetic and full of regret.  “Adahya, this white woman will not stay with you.  She will leave you just like Song did.  Sooner, in fact.  I saw the fight in her yesterday.  She will run.”

His mother was right, no matter how much he chose not to believe it.  When he had asked Katherine to stay with him, she had seemed surprised that he did not seek love in a mate.  Perhaps if she came to love him she would stay.

But how could he make her love him?  Trying to get Song to even halfway tolerate him had been a dismal failure.  His friends and his brothers took the act of coupling lightly, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

He had a better chance at getting Katherine to love mother than he did him.

Giving a long sigh, he met his mother’s stare.  “When the white woman runs, she will be burned at the stake.”

“No!”

“Who will be burned?”

Adahya turned to his grandfather, accepted the pipe the old man offered him.  Many Stories clamped a feeble hand on Adahya’s shoulder.  “How is Song?”

“She is gone, Grandfather.”

“Where did she go?”

“She left me, ti-sot.”

The old man’s expression changed from tranquil serenity to concern.  “Why?”

Adahya patted his hand.  It was always this way with his grandfather.  Many Stories had no difficulties repeating tales of ancient times, but when it came to remembering day-to-day activities, he was at a loss.

“Did I offend her?”  The old man looked to them in confusion.  “Is that why Song has left?”

She-who-commands sighed.  “Song has been gone a long time, ti-sot.  It was nothing you did.”

“Was it something you did?”

“No!” she yelled, impatience growing.  Ignoring her father’s look of confusion, she turned to her son.

“Adahya, if she runs, I promise you we will caress her until she is dead.”

Adahya knew the horrible fate of being ‘caressed’ by the Ganeagaono.  Their method of torture was widely known from the land of the Huron as far south as the Shawnee.  It brought fear and panic to their enemies, which was vital to their survival.  Adahya, himself, knew the scream of many of his victims, for he had danced the war song around many burning stakes.

Katherine St. James would never know the scent of her own flesh burning.  He vowed this on his life.

He glared at his mother.  “Katherine will come to no harm from you or from any Ganeagaono.”

“We would torture her for your honor, Adahya.  If she runs, she will die slowly as all white eyes deserve.  She will know the feel of the flames, and she will scream out like the coward she is.”  She touched her son’s cheek.  “Like the coward all white eyes are.”

Adahya pushed away his mother’s hand.  White eyes had killed his father in the war with the French, and Adahya did not blame his mother for hating their kind, but Katherine was different.  She was not like them.  “You will not do this, nor will anyone else in the village.  Katherine will stay with Adahya of her own free will, you will see.  You will all see!”

“What will we see?”  Grandfather asked.

She-who-commands’ expression softened.  “If she stays, then we will have no need to kill her, will we?”  She took hold of her son’s face.  “Do you not see that this woman only wants the best for her son? Each of your brothers has a good woman.  They have children to carry on their spirit.  I want the same for you, Adahya.  Song was unkind.  I regret arranging for you to be with her.  It was my fault you were hurt.  My heart will never let me forgive such poor judgment.  I love you, Adahya.  I do not want to see you hurt again.  I knew what Song did to you when she left.  I saw how your heart bled.  I do not want to see you like that again. With this white woman it is inevitable.”

“Katherine is not Song.”

“Adahya, you bound her hands to keep her to you.  That is not the actions of a man and woman who trust and respect one another.”

“She will learn to trust me.”

She-who-commands shook her head.  “I am doubtful, my son.”  After a long silence, she added, “I will keep silent as you wish me to.”

A tiny light of hope flickered.  He did not know why his mother’s approval was so important to him.  He supposed his brothers were right, that he was the spoiled one of the three.  He squeezed his mother’s hand.  “And you will be respectful to her?”

His mother pondered his question for a long while.  She took a small knife from a basket and placed it gently in his palm.  “Your father gave this to me long ago before you or your brothers came into this world.  You may give it to the white woman, but do not let her use it on you.”

Adahya turned over the knife.  It was a woman’s knife, used for domestic tasks, never for warfare.  He had never seen it before, but the bone handle was carved with tiny human figures which he immediately recognized as his father’s work.  He smiled.  His father’s carvings had been cherished by the Ganeagaono.  Sometimes, during times alone, especially right before raids and battles when he wondered if he would live to the next dawn, he felt as if his father had left the Sky World to watch over him.  He wondered what he would have thought of him, if he would have been proud.

“Thank you.”

His mother nodded.  “Star is about the white woman’s size.  She must have something for her to wear.  She cannot stay dressed like a white eye.”

Adahya nodded.  He gripped his mother in a quick embrace, grateful to have her blessing such as it was.  “Katherine will be good for Adahya.  You will see.”

“Who will be good for you?” Grandfather asked.

She-who-commands ignored him.  “How much do you know about this woman?”

“Enough.”

“Enough to begin a life with her?  When you left here last moon you had no intention of ever taking another woman, and now you bring home a white eye.”  She shook her head.  “It is not right.”

Grandfather looked to the both of them, utterly confused.  “What is not right?”

Adahya patted the old man’s shoulder.  “I will make it right,” he spoke to his mother.  “You will see.”

* * *

KATHERINE woke to find herself alone in Adahya’s lodge.  Seeing an opportunity to escape, she hurried to the small door and slid back the bark panel.  Her captor was nowhere in sight.

She had no more than stepped outside, when she was pelted in the spine with a large rock.

“Ow!”

Laughter was followed by a firing squad of rocks and pebbles. Five children peered out from behind a longhouse.  They giggled hysterically.

Fighting for control had fallen beyond her already.  She’d had it with these people, and she’d be damned if she was going to take anymore abuse--especially from children!  Gathering the rocks they had thrown at her, she slung them at the children, sending them laughing and shouting in all directions.  She hit one boy in the side of his neck, and he let out a hideous yowl.

“Serves you right, you little heathen!”

The boy was down, and she lunged for him.  She caught him by the ankle, and not sure what to do with him but too angry to let him go, she dragged him toward Adahya’s lodge.  The boy screamed and shouted something, but she could not understand a thing he said, nor did she care.  Enraged, violent thoughts filled her mind.  She had never fantasized about hurting anyone, especially a child, but now the idea gave her great pleasure.

Adahya rounded the corner to find Katherine attacking his eight-year-old nephew, Swift Runner.  She had the boy by his left leg and was dragging him on his stomach.  Swift Runner sobbed hysterically.  Adahya’s six-year-old niece, Little Jay, was screaming for her mother as if Heno himself were after them.

He ran toward them.  “Katherine, no!”

She stopped dragging the boy but refused to let go of his leg.  Her face was filthy, and her right eye was black and almost swollen shut.  Her hair was tangled with sticks and leaves. But she stood straight and proud and defiantly raised her chin.  Like a warrior.

He took her by the elbow.  “Katherine, let him go.”

“No!  He was throwing rocks at me.”  She glared at the other children who were peeking around a longhouse, too frightened to come out.  “They all were!”

“Katherine, let him go.  He is crying.”

“Good!  And I’m going to give him something to really cry about!”

Little Jay came running toward them pulling her mother, Sunshine, along behind her.  Seeing a white woman holding her hysterical son by his leg, Adahya’s sister-in-law lunged at Katherine, knocking her down.

“Odankot, stop!”  Adahya pulled the woman off Katherine.

Katherine fought him like a wildcat.  “Let me go!”

Adahya held Katherine back with one arm and his sister-in-law with the other.  “Katherine, stop!  Odankot, take the children and go back to your lodge.”

Sunshine lunged for Katherine again, and Katherine spat in her face.

Adahya forced them further apart.  “Sun, go away!  This is all a misunderstanding!”

He jerked Katherine by the arm and pulled her toward his lodge leaving his enraged sister-in-law to deal with all five now-crying children.  “You do not pick on children here.”

“They started it!”

“And you are old enough to know better.”

She defiantly pulled her arm from his grip.  “I’m through arguing with you.”

“Good.”

He held the lodge door open for her, and Katherine ducked inside.  The dwelling was too short to stand up straight, so she sat upon his pallet of hides.  Adahya sat across from her.  Today he wore a different pair of leggings, she noticed, ones that ended at mid-thigh a revealed strong, powerful legs.  His chest was bare, and he wore a sleeveless vest beaded with floral designs.

He handed her a poultice of some sort and motioned for her to place it on her eye.

She made a face.  “It smells funny.”

“It will help you heal.”

Katherine took the poultice and placed it on her throbbing eye.  She could feel his black gaze upon her, but she refused to look at him.  Her uncovered eye scanned his lodge.  Copper pots were scattered in piles along with various pieces of clothing thrown haphazardly about.  The home had lacked a woman’s touch for quite some time.

“You live like a pig.”

He chuckled, but, still infuriated, she refused to look at him.  She continued to inspect her surroundings.  From the center of the lodge pole, she noticed a red-colored wooden mask.  Its face was turned toward the pole, but she could make out its profile which contained large, protruding lips and long white horsehair attached to the sides of its face.  “What’s the mask for?”