Authors: Karen Kay
The Duke of Colchester knew something and Black Bear determined that soon, he too, would have that same knowledge.
It was a pledge.
What did she do?
Black Bear stared out onto the dance floor some time later.
There stood Waste Ho dressed in her white gown, looking good, looking beautiful. But she had paused in the middle of the room, in the center of the dancers.
Other dancers swirled around her in a circle, some looking at her, most ignoring her.
She didn’t notice. She gazed around the room, but her glance alit upon nothing, and Black Bear could only wonder what she did. Then he saw it.
A round, black box, in the middle of the floor.
She knelt beside it gradually, setting an arrow down along one side of it and a knife on the other.
And Black Bear could not believe what his eyesight demanded was true.
It could not be. It was not possible.
She was married. Hadn’t she admitted it herself?
What was she about? Was she trying to bring the spirits down upon her with her lies? Didn’t she know it didn’t matter to him? She didn’t have to risk all to lie to him.
He took a deep breath.
This was for his benefit; no one else would understand the ceremony. He had best step forward and stop her now. It was either that or accuse her for the liar she was.
Or was she?
He took a quick glance around him to ensure that there was no danger to her, at least for the moment. And then, cautiously, silently, Black Bear moved out and away from the shadows.
Estrela was tired. She was angry and upset. He had accused her of harboring loose morals and of infidelity one too many times.
Well, no more; Black Bear would learn the truth. It was something she had decided after that breakfast so many weeks ago. Black Bear might not listen to her, he might think she spoke with a two-sided tongue, but he could not, he would not ignore the contest she held, the virgin ceremony.
It was a direct challenge to Black Bear. Estrela knew he would not be able to set aside what the ceremony proclaimed. For the contest she held, the virgin ceremony, was a solemn oath, a pledge of chastity. And no Lakota maiden participated in it lightly. It was believed that if she claimed she were pure and were not, disaster would befall her.
Estrela set the round box in the middle of the dance floor, the arrow on the right, the knife on the left.
She knelt before it and placing her hand in the box, she prepared to wait.
“Oh, Black Bear, do you dance?”
“I saw him first.”
“Here, Black Bear, I have a note for you. Will you please read it in private and give me an answer?”
“Oh, my, but I would like to talk with you.”
“Do you like English society?”
“However did you come to be here?”
Black Bear stopped at last, taking stock of the fact that he could go no farther. He was surrounded by women, many of them. Not an uncommon occurrence of late.
He sighed. He had to reach Waste Ho before she did damage to herself unnecessarily. Did these women have nothing better to do but to cater to him as a novelty? It was becoming a wearisome, daily task to simply deflect their attentions without at the same time doing great damage to their pride. And Black Bear feared that he might, at some future date, be too truthfully honest, hurting beyond repair the poor lady to whom he might vent his frustration.
“Oh, here, sign my dance book, won’t you?” A young lady shoved a book at him and Black Bear jumped back, out of the way.
“I cannot write,” he said to the dear, young girl, giving her back her book.
“Won’t you dance with me?”
“I cannot dance,” he rejoined with a shrug.
“Come and speak with me, won’t you?”
He smiled. “Forgive me, but I…do not…language…speak…not good.”
“Well, won’t you come and have some dinner with us?”
“I do not eat…no, I did not mean… I—”
“Do you women want husbands overmuch, that you cannot leave my brother alone?”
Black Bear, startled, glanced up. And had he been anything but American Indian, he would have grinned. All he did, however, was stare, although in his eyes was a light of warm recognition.
“Oh, my!”
“Bless me!”
“Oh, tush!”
Black Bear heard the feminine gasps and its many equivalents repeated again and again as he watched the three men on the outskirts of the circle of females.
He smiled at last. There, directly before him stood his two Lakota friends, accompanied by the German Prince, who was waving and attempting, even at this moment, to shove his way forward.
“Excuse me, dear lady,” he heard the Prince say. “Pardon me. I beg your… Oh, dear me, aren’t you a beauty?”
Prince Frederick, Prince of a small, but influential German duchy edged his way through the group, bowing frequently and coming to stand by Black Bear. “Took me a long time to find you, friend,” he said under his breath.
Black Bear merely looked at the man, saying nothing, observing the necessary silence that was considered good manners among the Indians. At length he said, “I have been occupied.”
Prince Frederick leered at the ladies before turning to his friend, to say, “So I see.”
Black Bear might have laughed, but he didn’t. Instead, he nodded to his two other friends over the heads of the ladies present.
“Oh, there’s more of them, look!”
“I get this one.”
“Do you dance?”
“Will you tell me all about where you are from?”
The crowd soon expanded, circling and enclosing not only Black Bear, but the other two Indians and one German Prince.
“However did you meet all these ladies?” the Prince asked Black Bear.
Black Bear grunted. “I did not want this.”
“Shows what taste you have.”
“Yes,” Black Bear said. “It does. And,
friend
…” he stressed the word, and in the tradition of their easygoing bantering said, “…your comment tells me much about
your
love life.”
“Ouch!”
“Pray, this one is more handsome than the other.”
“I daresay, look at this fine fellow.”
“Bless me, look at their clothes.”
Black Bear glanced over to his friends and smiled. It was good to be momentarily forgotten and spared the attentions that
he
had been battling daily.
He Topa, Four Horns, the first of his friends, attempted to draw away from one of the ladies; he bumped into another. Wasute Sni, Never Misses a Shot, Black Bear’s cousin, frowned, but it didn’t daunt the young women he frowned at, not one bit.
Black Bear grinned, unsympathetically staring at his friends.
And he heard the ensuing battle, listened to one of his friend’s say, “I think you mistake me for someone I am not. I have no need of a wife.”
“Oh! You are not married yet?”
“I…” It was He Topa who spoke. “Speak not…language…not good. Not good…all.”
Another lady laid her hand on Wasute Sni, saying, “Why, my dear fellow, you look positively kissable.”
Wasute Sni had always been much more the rake than his two friends. He looked down at the lady now as she spoke and smiled, saying, “You may try it, if you like.”
The young lady giggled. “Oh, my!”
She kissed him.
Another lady saw it and did the same, another and another.
“Ladies, ladies,” Prince Frederick addressed the procession of women. “Can’t you tell how tired these young fellows are?” And, in Lakota, to the two Indians, “Look tired both of you.” Then to the ladies, “Have pity upon us, please. We have just arrived here from London. Must you ply them,” he continued, “with kisses and hugs and pleas for their attention?”
The Prince glanced at a smiling Wasute Sni, who bore all the unmistakable evidence of rouge and lipstick smeared over his face. The Prince simply smiled, muttering, “Perhaps I should rephrase that question to the ladies.”
“I want him to dance with me.”
“I want to kiss him.”
“Here, let me.”
“No, no. Ladies, ladies,” Prince Frederick interceded. “We are greatly fatigued. And we must go immediately to bed.”
“Oh, I’ll accompany you.”
“Let me. I’ll take you. I know where the rooms are.”
“An, that was not my plan,” the Prince said.
“Mayhap I should…ah…restate that.” Prince Frederick looked around him. “Wasute Sni, get that grin off your face. He Topa, grab your friend. We must—”
“What does she do?” It was Black Bear who spoke, Black Bear who roared, “Does she not realize the chance she takes?”
Prince Frederick looked up then, Black Bear’s questions being more command than question.
“What is it?” the Prince asked, abandoning the other two to their fate and retracing his steps back toward Black Bear.
“My friend,” the Prince said, “have you found her? Was she the one who I hear you rescued? The one all the rumors are circling about?”
Black Bear nodded.
“Which lady is she?”
Black Bear merely inclined his head in the direction of the dance floor.
The Prince looked, squinted, looked again. “I am no more enlightened than I was before, my friend. You will have to be more specific. There are too many people dancing for me to tell—”
The Prince broke off. Black Bear wasn’t listening. He was already moving away toward the middle of the dance floor, and as Prince Frederick watched him go, he wondered what was wrong with Black Bear.
He looked as though he’d seen a ghost.
She saw his approach.
Her stomach plummeted at the sight and she almost lost her courage. Almost. But she had gone this far; she would go the entire journey.
He would know the truth.
She watched him as he came ever closer. She ignored the other women as they tried to pull him aside. They were not important here. This was between the two of them, her and Black Bear, alone.
He maneuvered between dancers, among people and their partners, coming ever closer and closer to the center of the room until finally he stood before her.
He stared at her. She at him.
A moment passed. Another.
At last, with her hand still in the round box, she picked up the knife. She put it between her teeth and looking straight at Black Bear, she bit it.
It was a highly symbolic gesture. With her hand in the hole of the box, she proclaimed she was a virgin; when she bit the knife, she vowed before all, even the spirits themselves, that what she said was true.
And Black Bear, barely believing what he saw, stared at her.
He Topa came up behind her.
He smiled and Estrela, seeing him, removed her hand from the box.
He Topa knelt, put his hand in the box and picking up the arrow, bit it. For a male, this too proclaimed his celibacy.
Estrela gazed at him and smiled.
She looked at the floor, then at the couples who continued to dance in the circle, and finally at He Topa.
It was quite a long moment before Estrela found the courage to glance up at Black Bear.
But at length, after taking a deep breath, slowly, so very, very gradually, she raised her gaze to meet Black Bear’s.
He stood rigid, unflinching, his face carefully masked to hide what he might feel, though his chin jutted out, and he looked at her as though she were stalked game.
Then at last, with a motion of his hand, telling her in sign exactly what he thought of her ceremony, he spun around, striding from the room with such intent, others gave way at his approach.
He never looked back.
And Estrela, watching him, wondered if the ceremony had been worth it.
He knew it now. He knew and yet he’d left her just the same.
Estrela lowered her gaze to the foot and picking up the box, the arrow and the knife, she prepared to leave the dance floor.
Is she available?
No!
Black Bear answered his own question.
She is married!
Or is she?
Black Bear stood within the shadows of the balcony and looked back into the ballroom with such an intensity in his gaze, it was a wonder the glass in the doors did not shatter.
Was she lying?
He didn’t think so. Her eyes had been clear, her cheeks slightly flushed when she had bit the knife.
There were no signs of her lying and yet…
He thought back to what he knew about her. There was no man in her life now and no one could remember seeing her with a man—ever.
Anna had said that he should not be “fobbed off” by her marriage.
Was she truly…?
Black Bear shook his head as though the movement might shake his thoughts loose. He had left her there in the middle of the dance floor, not because he was angry with her and not really because he didn’t believe her. No, he had left her there because what she did, what she told him via the ceremony was too much for him to accept all at once. She was a virgin.
He needed to think.
Think. Wasn’t it what he had been taught all his life? That a truly great man will think before speech, before action. Hadn’t he needed then, as he needed now, to come to terms with all that the ceremony proclaimed?
He thought back to it.
She had bit the knife. It was not something she would do if the facts were not true.
Which meant…
Black Bear’s head spun and he felt lightheaded. His heart seemed to swell in that moment, though, and as Black Bear surveyed her out there on the dance floor, he ventured to think thoughts he had dared not consider ever since that day he had learned of her marriage.
If the contest were true then…
Among his people the contest she had given was well-known. It was a statement of virtue, a contest given by virgins, for virgins, especially those whose chastity had been questioned.
When a woman bit the knife or a man the arrow, it was a sacred vow. No liar ever did it without severe consequences. No liar survived the test. It was a bold statement of fact; it said for the woman “I have never known a man intimately.”
It must be true.
Was she available?