Chapter One

Wyoming Territory, Late Summer 1841

Five Horses was beginning to feel a bit guilty.  She should have been gathering berries in the brambles that grew around the lake near the Kiowa village for her family’s evening meal, but the heat of the afternoon sun had made the sparkling cool waters of the lake too inviting.  She had not been to this side of the lake before, but the vines close to her home had been picked fairly clean by the women of the village during the summer and she had to walk further to find the sweet fruit.  Giving in to temptation, she had slipped out of her buckskin dress and mocassins and slid into the tranquil waters.  Floating on her back on the glassy water of the lake under a crystal blue sky, gently moving the cool water across her bare skin with her delicate hands, she smiled softly allowing the gentle sounds of moving water to lull her into a daydream reflecting on what a lucky woman she was.

Life was indeed good for Five Horses and her family.  Her husband, White Eagle, was a respected war chief in the village.  Although the Kiowa were not currently at war, occasional conflicts arose with the surrounding tribes or the ever increasing presence of the white man.  When trouble arose, White Eagle led his people with confidence and pride, always considering the safety of the tribe before acting hastily.  Five Horses loved him with all her heart and he returned the love equally.  Their marriage held a passion that other Kiowa couples did not understand as often marriages in the village were arranged for convenience or mutual gain for the families involved rather than love.  This was not the case with Five Horses and White Eagle.  They fell in love at a very young age, too young in the opinion of Five Horses’ father.  When White Eagle asked him the amount of the bridal fee for his daughter, then named Yellow Bird, her father, in hopes of deterring the young couple, had set her bridal fee at the extraordinarily high fee of five horses.  It had taken some time to capture five wild mustangs, but White Eagle had accomplished the task, nearly breaking his neck in the process.  When the final horse was delivered to Yellow Bird’s father and the marriage was approved, White Eagle changed his young bride’s name to Five Horses to remind her of the high price he had paid to make her his wife.

Five Horses and White Eagle had quickly been blessed with a child, a son.  A handsome boy possessing the features of his father.  They had named him Red Bear after White Eagle’s father, a highly honored chief who had been killed in a war with the Cheyenne some years earlier.  Red Bear, now 13 summers old, was growing into a strong young man so much like his father in thought and actions.  He would take his rightful place as war chief in the years ahead and lead his people with wisdom and pride as his father and his grandfather before him.

Their perfect world had been almost shattered a few years after Red Bear’s birth.  In a battle with an attacking group of Sioux intent on robbing the Kiowa village of their horses, White Eagle had been seriously wounded when he had been clubbed in the groin by a Sioux brave.  With Five Horses constant care and the help of the tribe’s medicine man, Cloud Walker, he had recovered, although Cloud Walker told them it was doubtful that White Eagle could father another child.  This pronouncement left the young couple deeply disappointed as they had envisioned a larger family.  In time White Eagle and Five Horses were able to resume their relationship as husband and wife.  Five Horses continued to pray to the spirits for another child, but as the years went by she gradually gave up hope.  If the spirits were to give her only one child then Red Bear was more than enough.  Five Horses considered her life perfect.  Her family was strong, healthy and happy.  What more could a woman want?

The caw of a black crow nested in a nearby tree awakened Five Horses from her daydreams.  The afternoon sun was beginning its descent to the far side of the sky.  She needed to return to the village.  White Eagle and Red Bear would be returning home soon from their deer hunt and would have fresh meat for their supper and hides to prepare.  She turned from her back into the water and with lazy strokes began to swim toward the shore relishing the last few minutes of her swim.

He watched the indian woman as she swam to shore. She emerged from the water no more than 10 yards from where he crouched behind a thick growth of shubbery at the water’s edge.  He had come to the lake with the intent of filling his canteen.  To find a lone woman bathing in the lake was indeed a pleasant surprise.

The man was a trapper by trade.  He had set out from St. Louis several years earlier in hopes of making his fortune quickly by trapping and selling the animal hides at the trading posts situated along the trails.  Coats and hats of the “wild animals” of the west were considered high fashion in Boston, New York and other eastern cities.  But the wealth did not accumulate as quickly as he had hoped.  Although the animals were abundant, the task of setting traps, skinning the animals and hauling the pelts to the nearest trading post was hard work.  Too hard for his liking.  More often he would purchase cheap whiskey with his profits and trade the liquor with various indian tribes for their own animal pelts.  These furs he would then sell at the trading posts for a much greater price than the cost of the whiskey used as his bargaining tool.  Once the indians acquired a taste for the liquor it became easier to cheat on the trades.  It wasn’t that he disliked the indians, he merely wanted to use them for his own gain.  He felt the same way about the Kiowa beauty standing naked before him.

Five Horses unknowingly stood facing him, droplets of moisture glistening on her brown skin in the sunlight.  She was a woman of about 30 years he estimated.  She was a small woman but possessed full breasts and the softly rounded hips of one who has carried a child.  He watched as she twisted her waist length black hair to remove the water.  The woman turned her back to him and bent down to retrieve her clothing.  It had been a long time since the man had seen a naked woman.  A long time since he’d had one.  Desire growing within him, he slowly licked his lips.  Watching her every move with animal lust in his eyes, he quietly stepped out from behind the bushes.

Five Horses sensed a presence behind her, picked up her clothing and rose to a standing position.  At the snap of a twig under his boot her back stiffened and she drew a sharp breath.  She stood perfectly still for a moment and then slowly turned around to confront the intruder. What she saw made her gasp in fright.  Five Horses had never seen a white man before and if this was what they looked like she never wanted to see another.  He was an average sized man with his matted and filthy shoulder length hair tied back with a strand of rawhide.  His clothes were caked with dirt, mud and the blood of the animals he had skinned.  His face was covered with a week or more growth of whisker stubble.  Five Horses studied this particularly as she had never seen a man with hair on his face.  The stench of his unwashed skin filled the air.  The man ran his lust filled eyes up and down her body as she clutched her dress against herself to cover her bare skin.

“Ain’t you a sight,” he said with a wry smile.  “You and me gonna have a good time, little missy.”

Five Horses did not understand the words he spoke but the meaning of the look in his eyes required no translation.  The man took a slow step in her direction and she immediately stepped backward as an animal retreats from the hunter.  As she stepped, Five Horses tripped on a rock jutting from the ground and momentarily lost her balance but caught herself before she fell.  Her heart began to pound in her chest and her breathing became faster.  She could feel perspiration forming on the palms of her hands a sick sensation in her stomach.  Paralyzed by fear she stared at him.  The man, seeing her fear, grinned widely showing his yellow and tobacco stained teeth.

“Now, we can do this easy, or we can do this hard, but you can be sure, missy, we gonna do this,” he teased raising one eyebrow and taking another step towards her.

Five Horses turned and began to run but the man sensing her movements was right behind her.  He lunged forward grabbing her ankle, causing her to fall forward to the ground.  Twisting her body around she moved to face him, panic beginning to take hold inside her.  With one hand still holding her ankle he began to move his other hand up and down her free leg.  The touch of the man released the anger and fear that had built in her.  Five horses kicked at the man with her free leg and began to swing her arms wildly in an attempt to free herself from her captor.  Her right hand hit something hard on the ground and she realized it was the wooden bowl holding the berries she had picked that afternoon.  Grabbing the bowl she used it now as a weapon and swung it at the man, the berries flying through the air as the bowl made contact with the side of his head.  Momentarily dazed, he released the grip on her ankle and Five Horses seized the opportunity.  She jumped to her feet and began to run as fast as her trembling legs would carry her, cutting her bare feet on the rocky ground. 

Realizing that his prey was escaping the man ran after her and within a few seconds was upon Five Horses.  He threw his body at her and she collapsed to the ground under his weight, nearly striking her head on the trunk of a large tree that had fallen during a recent storm.  Both of them, winded by the fall, lay gasping for air.  Five Horses was pinned to the ground by the weight of the man.  She could feel his hot, stale breath on her skin as he lay on top of her.  His lust growing stronger by the feel of the woman beneath him, he began to rub his filthy hands over her body.  Raising himself slightly from her he adjusted his clothing freeing himself from his trousers.  Five Horses summoned all her strength and began to fight against him, pounding his head and shoulders with her fists. 

Her efforts proved futile as he roughly grabbed her hands, removed the piece of rawhide from his hair and used it to tightly bind her hands together.  Raising her arms over her head he secured the rawhide to a branch of the fallen tree.  Terror engulfing her, Five Horses began to scream.  The man, desperately wanting her now, slapped Five Horses across the face to silence her.  He quickly removed the dirty bandanna from around his neck and forced it into her mouth.  Tugging fiercely to break the binding that held her hands, her face pounding from the force of the blow and growing sick from the smell of the bandanna nearly forced down her throat, Five Horses closed her eyes tightly and braced herself for what was to come. 

She tried desperately to close her body but the man savagely forced himself on her.  Her eyes flew wide open as her body arched in pain, the sounds of her cry muffled by the gag in her mouth.  Tears of agony and anger began to stream down her face.  The man moved against her time after time with such force her bare back was scraped and cut by the rocky ground beneath her.  Trying desperately to shut out the sounds of his sadistic desire she retreated deep inside herself until she felt and heard nothing.

After his needs were satisfied the man stood and readjusted his clothing.  Breathing heavily he smiled at Five Horses.  “Bet you ain’t never been done like that before.”  Five Horses lay still on the ground, her mind numbed by the treatment she had endured.

The man knelt over Five Horses and removed the bandanna from her mouth.  “I’ll be needing this back now,” he told her.  “Yes ma’am, I certainly do thank you for your time.”  Beginning to regain her senses, Five Horses reacted in the only way available to her by spitting in the man’s face.  Taken back by the actions of the woman beneath him, the man swung his fist at Five Horses’ face.  Anticipating the blow, Five Horses turned her head so the blow was not a direct hit but was enough to stun her.

Wiping the spit from his face with the bandanna, anger growing inside him, the man removed his knife from its sheath.  “I’m gonna kill you, you red bitch!” he spat back at her through clenched teeth.  Raising the knife to her throat, pressing the blade against her skin, he stopped.  “No, you’d want that about now, wouldn’t you?  Be more fun to let you live.  Let you think about what we done,” he chuckled.  The man moved the knife away from Five Horses’ neck and instead placed the blade on her cheek.

“I’ll just leave you somethin’ to remember me by.”  He slowly applied pressure to the blade opening a gash on Five Horses’ face from her cheek to her chin, not deep enough to be a serious cut but enough that he was certain a scar would form as the cut healed.  “You remember this, bitch.  Every time your man looks at you he’ll remember, too.”

He knelt beside her watching the blood begin to flow freely from the wound.  Satisfied with his work, the man cut the rawhide binding allowing Five Horses’ arms to fall limply at her sides. 

The man rose to his feet and looked down at the dazed and bleeding woman.  He realized that he could have her again easily if he wanted.  Using his dirty boot he nudged her leg to try to get a response from the woman, but there was none.  She lay motionless on the ground.

“Nope, wouldn’t be much fun,” he muttered to himself and walked away from Five Horses disappearing into the trees.

Slowly, Five Horses began to regain her senses and tried to move.  Her body ached and she felt a throbbing pain in her face.  Touching her cheek she felt the blood oozing from the cut he had inflicted upon her.  Lowering her hand she looked at the blood on her finger tips as a cold shiver ran through her body.  The putrid smell of the man still permeated the air and she sat up quickly, looking around the clearing with fear in her eyes, breathing in short gasps, her muscles tensed expecting to see him.  She relaxed slightly realizing he was gone. 

Five Horses drew a quivering breath and began to shake.  She could feel the touch of the man on her body.  Smell his foul odor on her skin.  She had to get his smell off of her.  Had to do something to stop her skin from crawling.  Her only thoughts were to rid herself of the touch, the filth of the man.  Too weak to stand, Five Horses crawled into the lake.  The water that had given her so much pleasure now served as a shield to hide her shame.  Reaching down to the lake bottom Five Horses grabbed a handful of sand and began to use it to wash her body in an attempt to rid herself of the dirty feeling.  Slowly at first she scrubbed her skin with the sand but the feelings would not go away.  In a frenzy of desperation, she scrubbed harder and harder rubbing her body raw with the sand.  In despair she sank to her knees in the water her head bowed in shame.  How had she allowed this to happen? 

Her thoughts became muddled and confused in her tired mind.  Five Horses raised her head and gazed upon the gently moving water of the lake.

“Come to me,” the deep water beckoned to her.  “Come to me and I will hide your shame”.

Pushed to the edge of sanity by her despair, Five Horses listened as the water spoke to her promising peace and rest in its dark depths. 

Five Horses longed to accept the water’s offer of shelter.  She took tentative steps further into the lake until the water lapped around her neck and shoulders, her feet barely touching the bottom.  Suddenly visions of White Eagle and Red Bear flashed through her mind and she stopped.  Covering her face with her hands Five Horses cried out “No!”  The thought of never seeing her family again brought her to reality as the part of her that wanted to die succumbed to the part that wanted to live.

Quickly she left the water and on trembling legs began to search for her clothing.  She found her mocassins and buckskin dress near the downed tree and as quickly as her aching body allowed dropped the dress over her head and shoulders.  He legs still shaking, Five Horses sank to the ground, her back resting against the tree that had held her captive.

Five Horses sat quietly for a moment longing for the touch of White Eagle’s arms around her.  But how could she tell her husband what the man had done?  Would White Eagle ever want to touch her or hold her again?  Would he ever want to make love to her again now that she was dirty?  She could hear the whispers of the others in the village.  What would Red Bear think of his mother now?

These thoughts whirled rapidly in her mind and as floodwaters break through a weakened dam her tears began to flow.  Five Horses began to cry uncontrollably as huge body wracking sobs overtook her.  Unable to remain upright under the weight of her grief and shame she lay down on her side against the tree.  Drawing her knees up tightly against her chest trying to make herself small and invisible to the world, Five Horses lay on the hard rocky ground and wept knowing nothing would ever be perfect again. 
 
 

Chapter Two

“Five Horses what is wrong?” asked a worried White Eagle as he knelt beside his wife.  He and Red Bear had returned from their hunt later than anticipated and expected to find Five Horses waiting for them.  Growing concerned as more time passed he questioned others in the Kiowa village but no one knew her whereabouts.  White Eagle’s sister-in-law, Black Water Woman, remembered that Five Horses had mentioned she intended to pick berries that afternoon.  White Eagle had easily found the tracks that led him to his wife. 

Still lying on the ground in a state of exhaustion, not quite asleep but not fully awake, Five Horses was startled by his voice and the touch of his hand as he brushed  her hair away from her face.  Five Horses sat up quickly and pushed herself back against the trunk of the tree, a look of pure fear in her eyes.  Realizing the figure before her was her husband and not the white man, she leaned forward into his embrace, collapsing into the safety of his arms. 

White Eagle saw the bruises and cuts on her face and body and instinctively knew.  “Who did this to you, Five Horses?” he softly asked.

Barely trusting herself to speak the words Five Horses whispered to her husband, “A white man.” 

Fury began to build in White Eagle at the thought of another man, a white man, touching his wife.   Releasing their embrace he looked at her swollen face, touched the dried blood from the knife wound.  “Where is he?” he asked trying to control the anger in his voice.

“I do not know.  He is gone,” replied Five Horses, her voice quivering as tears began to fall anew.  “I am sorry, my husband.  I am so ashamed.”

White Eagle looked intently into the tear filled eyes of his wife, his hands cupping her face.  “You have no need to be ashamed, Five Horses.  It is the man who has shame”. 

Delaying his desire to follow the tracks of the white man and exact a swift justice, White Eagle picked up his fragile wife and carried her abused body to his horse.  Lifting her carefully across the horse’s back he then mounted behind her.  Wrapping his arms around her protectively White Eagle took his wife home, the rising moon illuminating their path.

Five Horses closed her eyes and listened to the chant of Cloud Walker.  The pungent odor of burning herbs filled the teepee of White Eagle and Five Horses as the old, white haired medicine man implored the spirits to heal the woman’s body and cleanse her spirit. 

Black Water Woman helped Cloud Walker clean the wound on Five Horses’ face and applied a salve of herbs to the bruises and abrasions that had been inflicted upon her.  Exhausted from her ordeal, Five Horses simply wanted them to leave her alone. 

Holding his wife tenderly, her back resting against his chest, White Eagle patiently waited for Five Horses to speak.   Black Water Woman had taken Red Bear to her own family’s teepee for the night, allowing his parents the opportunity to speak privately. 

Beginning to relax in the security of her husband’s strong arms around her, Five Horses gazed into the flames of the fire before them.  The night air retained the heat of the day and the fire was not needed for warmth but the darkness of their teepee had frightened Five Horses prompting White Eagle to build a small fire in an attempt to calm her fears. 

Drawing a deep breath, Five Horses broke the silence and began to tell White Eagle of her ordeal.  She described the man as well as she could but the memories were painful.  White Eagle remained quiet, but his back stiffened, the anger in him continuing to escalate as Five Horses told him how the man had bound her hands and forced the gag in her mouth.  Reaching for her bruised hands he held them tenderly tracing the marks made by the rawhide with his fingertips. 

Five Horses paused remembering the savage way the man had taken her, remembering the pain and humiliation.  White Eagle sensed her discomfort, his embrace telling her that no words were necessary. 

A feeling of pride in his spirited wife overcame White Eagle as Five Horses described spitting in the man’s face.  However, he soon realized the cut on her own face was the man’s retribution. 

Five Horses tried to explain the call of the water to White Eagle but her memories were clouded and it seemed so strange.  How could she make him understand when she didn’t herself?   It pained White Eagle greatly to hear these words, to know that Five Horses had considered taking her own life.  He vowed silently to find the man responsible and make him pay for the pain inflicted upon her.

When her story was finished, Five Horses turned to look at the face of her husband.  Her voice quivering with emotion she spoke.  “I am sorry that I have brought shame to our family, White Eagle.  You must be displeased with me.  I will hide myself away so you won’t be embarrassed,” she offered casting her eyes downward and bowing her head.

White Eagle shook his head “no” but before he could speak, Five Horses continued.  “I want you to take another wife.  Gray Owl is a widow now.  She would make a fine…”.  White Eagle gently raised Five Horse’s downcast head and placed his finger over her lips to silence her. 

“Why do you speak these things?  I love you, Five Horses.  I will always love you.  You are my life,” he implored to her.  “I want no other woman, only you.  Please listen to me.  You have no reason to be ashamed, Five Horses.  You did nothing wrong.  I will hear no more of such talk.”

White Eagle’s words of reassurance began to take hold as they talked throughout the dark hours.  Five Horses began to believe that she was not responsible for what happened to her.  She had done nothing wrong.  True, she had ventured too far by herself from the safety of the village, but that did not give the man the right to touch her.

Raising her hand to brush away a stray tear from her cheek, Five Horses touched the wound on her face and realized it would leave a permanent reminder of her attacker.  Looking deeply into her husband’s eyes she questioned, “When you look at me you will see…”

“The face of a beautiful, strong woman,” he finished her sentence tenderly taking her small hand in his.

Relieved of her fears by White Eagle’s expressions of love, Five Horses allowed herself to rest cradled in the arms of her husband.  Gazing down at his sleeping wife, placing a kiss on her bruised face, White Eagle shuddered as he realized how close he had come to losing her. 

“I will find the white man who did these things and bring him here, Five Horses.  You will watch him die.”

White Eagle emerged from their teepee into the quiet of the slumbering Kiowa village.  Gazing upon the eastern horizon he watched as the night and the morning battled for possession of the sky.  White Eagle sighed heavily.  He was worried about his wife.  In time her body would heal but would the memories ever fade?  His thoughts centered on anther concern that they had not yet discussed.  Had the white man’s seed been planted in his wife’s womb?  White Eagle knew there were ways to rid a woman of an unwanted child.  He would discuss this with Cloud Walker after the white man had been punished. 

White Eagle turned at the sound of approaching footsteps to see his brother, Stone Eyes and nephew, Two Elks, emerging from the darkness leading three indian ponies. 

Two Elks was a strong, handsome young warrior of sixteen summers.  He had spent a good deal of time with his aunt, Five Horses, several years prior after his mother, Black Water Woman, grew ill after a difficult childbirth and was unable to care for her family.  Two Elks was very fond of Five Horses and the thought of her attack was deeply disturbing to him. 

Black Water Woman approached the three men offering small bowls of different colored paint.  Silently they applied the dye to their bodies readying themselves for revenge.

Red Bear crawled through the opening of his uncle’s teepee to stand beside his father, wiping the remnants of sleep from his eyes.  “I should go with you, Father.”

“No,” White Eagle answered shaking his head.  Placing his hands upon the boy’s shoulders he spoke softly to his son.  “Your mother sleeps now.  She will need someone with her when she wakes.  Take care of her for me, Red Bear, until I return.”

White Eagle drew his son into an embrace as Red Bear nodded his head in affirmation of his father’s request.  “Be careful, Father.  The white man is evil.”

“Let us go, my brother,” requested  Stone Eyes as he and Two Elks effortlessly mounted their ponies.  “He will be easy to find.  White men leave many tracks.”

White Eagle nodded in agreement as he mounted his horse in one swift, fluid motion.  The anger he had held at bay throughout the night now burned like hot embers in his heart. 

“Yes, tracking the white man is no more difficult than tracking a child,” he stated with disgust, his anger beginning to overflow.  “And when we find him, I will tear open his chest and rip out his heart while it still beats.”

Five Horses awakened with her body stiff and sore, the events of the previous day creeping back into her thoughts.  She stood in the center of her home, her arms defensively folded across her chest, her hands moving nervously up and down her arms.  Empowered by the reassurance of White Eagle’s love, she drew a deep breath. “No.  He took my body.  I will not let him take my spirit, too.”

Drawing herself to full stature and squaring her shoulders, Five Horses stepped into the bustling Kiowa village.  The women of the village were busy with the responsibilities of their households.  Some tended the large cooking pots while others wove reed baskets or worked on animal hides.  As they began to notice Five Horses’ presence the women paused in their various duties to cast a glance in her direction.  Some looked at her with sympathetic eyes while others studied her and then quickly looked away once she noticed their eyes upon her.

Five Horses found Red Bear working on the hide of the deer his father had killed the day before.  She half-heartedly began to help her son as fragments of conversation began to float across the Kiowa village. 

“…should have known better...” 
“…shouldn’t have been there...”
“ …asking for trouble...”

Red Bear, hearing the words and noticing the stares of the women, acted protectively of his mother taking his father’s request quite seriously.  Five Horses smiled softly at her son. He was becoming a young man, no longer her little boy.  Her thoughts drifted as images of Red Bear as a young child danced through her memory.  Memories of happier times. 

White Eagle had been gone only a short time, but she longed for his return.  Five Horses knew he would return with the man and although she wanted him to be punished for his actions against her, the thought of seeing him again sent chills up and down her spine.  More than anything, she just wanted her family around her and safe.  White Eagle had promised that there would be happy times again.  Watching Red Bear growing into a man before her eyes, she almost believed him.

Red Bear saw the three horses approaching the village as night began to fall and breathed a sigh of relief that his father was returning.  As they drew closer, he began walking to the edge of the village to meet White Eagle but quickened his pace to a trot and then a run as he realized something was not right.

Stone Eyes, his back hunched forward and his head held low, lead the two other horses carrying the bodies of White Eagle and Two Elks.  Red Bear’s cry of grief carried across the valley on the warm evening breeze alerting the village of the tragedy.

The three men had easily found the tracks of the white man and followed them for the better part of the day to a large grove of trees growing in an area of rolling hills known to the Kiowa as ‘The Land of Open Sky’.  A river cut its way through the hills on the far side of the grove. 

White Eagle dismounted outside the trees and followed the tracks on foot until he saw the man removing the dead body of a raccoon that had the misfortune of stepping into a trap.  The white man, whistling a tune, was oblivious to the Kiowa war chief observing him from no more than 20 yards away as he went to work on the carcass. 

“Ignorant white man,” White Eagle thought to himself as he returned to Stone Eyes and Two Elks. 

It would have been easy to drop him where he stood, but White Eagle wanted to inflict as much pain and fear on the man as possible.  His plan was to converge upon the man from the three open directions of the grove, forcing him toward the river.  With war cries filling the air and three Kiowa warriors bearing down upon him, the man would understand how it felt to fear for your life.  Once captured, he would be returned to the village and be put to death in a manner befitting his crime.

White Eagle and Two Elks kicked their horses into a gallop to take their positions on the far side of the trees.  With emotion rather than good judgment directing his actions, White Eagle, with his nephew close behind, charged over the crest of a hill into the direct view of a small hunting party of young Lakota Sioux.  Mistaking the aggression of the approaching Kiowa for hostility toward them, the Lakota opened fire killing White Eagle and Two Elks.

The Lakota, fearing an attack from the Kiowa, quickly left the area leaving the bodies of the fallen warriors in the tall prairie grass.  Hearing the shots, Stone Eyes abandoned pursuit of the white man to discover  the  dead bodies of his brother and son.  His own grief now weighing on him more heavily than the need to avenge the attack of his brother’s wife, Stone Eyes began the slow ride home, the fate of the white man all but forgotten.

Five Horses ran toward the sound of her son’s cry, panic and disbelief gripping her heart as she saw the bodies of  White Eagle and Two Elks lifted from the horses and placed upon the ground.

“NO!” she screamed, falling to her knees beside the blood covered body of her husband.  Crying out to the spirits she pleaded, “Why have you taken him from me!”

The grief of losing her only son to great to bear, Black Water Woman turned from Two Elks’ limp body to face Five Horses.  “This is because of you!” she accused fiercely. 

Red Bear moved close to his mother and knelt beside her, his eyes remaining on his father’s body.  Five Horses desperately reached for him, holding him close to her with one arm, cradling the lifeless form of White Eagle in the other.  Red Bear moved his eyes from his father to Five Horses’ tear stained face as his own began to fall and listened to the sound of her heart breaking.
 
 

Chapter Three

Only a month after White Eagle’s death Five Horses began to feel differently.  Her breasts became tender to the touch and a feeling of nausea followed her throughout the day.  It soon became evident that Five Horses was carrying a child.

Because Five Horses had been raped, most of the Kiowa felt certain the white man had fathered her child.  Many of the women in the village urged her to drink the herbs that would cause her to deliver the baby early or to allow them to prod into her womb and abuse her expanding belly to injure or kill the child inside.  These practices often resulted in the injury or occasional death of the mother, as well, but the women considered it a risk worth taking compared to giving birth to a white child.

Five Horses flatly refused to listen to them.  Grieving for her lost husband, she contended that the spirits had finally answered her prayers and given her White Eagle’s baby.  The spirits would not be so cruel as to take her beloved husband without leaving her a part of him.  Why would she want to hurt White Eagle’s child?

The Kiowa knew that White Eagle and Five Horses had not been able to produce another child in the thirteen years since Red Bear’s birth, but the spirits could not be predicted.  Perhaps it was the child of White Eagle.  Time would tell.

The winter winds brought intense cold with temperatures dropping to dangerous levels.  The depth of accumulating snow was greater than most of the Kiowa had ever seen.  Many of the oldest in the village were unable to withstand the grueling conditions and died during the months of deep winter.  The most superstitious of the tribe blamed the “evil white child” growing inside Five Horses.  It seemed to them the larger the child grew the worse the winter became.  Although yet unborn, the white child was bringing death and despair to the their village.  In their minds, the days of the Kiowa were numbered.

Red Bear, now the man of the household, protected and provided for his mother as best a thirteen year old boy could.  He and his father had hunted throughout the plentiful summer months, drying the deer and buffalo meat for the lean winter ahead.  Firewood was not difficult to find if the weather permitted venturing outside for any length of time but the men of the village insisted on offering some assistance to the boy.  He and his mother were the family of their fallen war chief and still commanded respect.

The long, dark months of winter were difficult for Five Horses.  She missed her husband deeply, missed the touch of his arms around her and his gentle voice.  Her days were spent wrapped in buffalo robes within the warm confines of her teepee, her mind occupied with thoughts of White Eagle and plans for his child growing within her.  But each night her sleep was disrupted by visions of the white man standing over her, laughing wildly as she held White Eagle’s dead body in her arms.

The winter winds shifted direction bringing warmer air as the dark, miserable winter finally surrendered to spring.  The prairie grass held prisoner for so many months by the impenetrable layer of snow came back to life. The wild quince announced the return of spring by bursting forth its scarlet colored flowers as the Kiowa celebrated the changing seasons.

Changes had come to Red Bear in the spring, also.  His voice began to deepen and the muscles in his chest and arms became more defined.  His facial features lost the roundness of childhood and became more angular.  Five Horses enjoyed watching the young maidens of the village as they cast flirtatious looks in his direction, hiding their giggles as he walked past them.  The fact that Red Bear was totally oblivious of the attention cast upon him only made the situation more amusing.

Red Bear had grown so tall throughout the winter months that his buckskin trousers were embarrassingly short, exposing his ankles.  He had taken to wearing his father’s clothing, although still much too large for him.  Five Horses altered the clothing for a better fit, brushing the tears from her eyes as she sewed.  She was pleased to relieve Red Bear of his embarrassment, but it only served as another reminder that White Eagle was not coming home.

As her time drew near, the weight of her womb causing her to tire easily, Five Horses spent most of her day in the seclusion of her home while Red Bear cared for her.  She considered herself very lucky to have such a son.  White Eagle would be proud.  As if wanting to be noticed, too, the little being inside her twisted, turned and kicked.  Wrapping her arms around her protruding middle, as if cradling the child inside, she whispered, “Soon, little one . . .  soon.”

Red Bear sat outside the opening of the teepee nervously tearing blades of grass into tiny pieces, frightened by his mother’s muffled cries of pain.  He had spent the earlier hours of the day with her but as Five Horses’ labor intensified he was sent outside.  Red Bear knew little about such things, but he didn’t think it should take this long.  Darkness was falling on the village and after hours of pain the baby still wasn’t here.  Other women in the village had died in childbirth.  It scared him to think that could happen to his mother, also.  Already a fatherless child, what would happen to him if she died?

Five Horses clenched her teeth holding back her cries.  The pains encircling her abdomen would stop periodically, but the intense pain in her lower back would not subside.  She had endured hours of hard labor and still the baby would not be born.  Bathed in sweat, panting hard and fast Five Horses began to feel lightheaded as the interior of her teepee began to swim before her eyes.  Trying to regain control, she lay back against a mound of buffalo robes, completely exhausted.

Although their relationship as sisters-in-law had deteriorated after the deaths of White Eagle and Two Elks, Black Water Woman offered her assistance to Five Horses.  She was knowledgeable in childbirth and had assisted in the delivery of many children in the village.  After a moment of hesitation, fearing for her baby’s life as well as her own, Five Horses accepted her help.

After a brief examination, Black Water Woman determined that Five Horses’ body was ready to deliver her child, the baby simply wouldn’t come.  Applying pressure with her hands to Five Horses’ swollen belly she attempted to move the child to a more favorable position but cries of agony from Five Horses were the only result. 

Weak and exhausted after another hour trying to push her baby into the world, Five Horses felt as if she could do no more.  Tears of frustration and fear filled her eyes as her back arched in pain.  “I can’t!” she cried, her voice shaking. 

“Push!” commanded Black Water Woman.  “Again!”

Grasping her knees to hold herself forward, bearing down with what little strength was left in her body, Five Horses finally delivered her child into Black Water Woman’s waiting arms.  Five Horses fell back against the buffalo robes emotionally and physically spent, too exhausted to move or even speak.

After separating the baby from his mother, Black Water Woman wrapped the limp infant, seemingly as exhausted as Five Horses from his difficult birth, in a piece of soft deer skin.  She cleaned out his nose and mouth and ran her hands over the small body until he emitted a weak cry announcing his arrival. 

Hearing the cry Five Horses reacted.

“Let me see my baby.”

Black Water Woman acted as if she had not heard and began to examine the infant.

Again Five Horses asked, extending her arms to Black Water Woman, “Let me see my baby.”

Black Water Woman would not be deterred.  Holding the child before her in the firelight her expression turned to stone.  The child’s skin was dark but considerably lighter than a child of full Kiowa heritage would be.  His hair, although there was a good deal of it, was brown not black.

“This is not the son of White Eagle.  This child is white,” Black Water Woman proclaimed with venom in her voice.  “He will bring the white man’s death and disease to our people.”

Rising to her feet with the small bundle in her arms, Black Water Woman turned to Five Horses, hate overflowing from her eyes. “This child cannot live.”

Her tired mind beginning to comprehend, Five Horses realized Black Water Woman’s intentions.  As her sister-in-law walked toward the opening of the teepee, Five Horses cried out with all the strength she could summon, “Give me my baby!”

Alerted by his mother’s panic filled cry, Red Bear jumped to his feet and quickly scrambled through the opening abruptly coming face to face with Black Water Woman. 

Tension filling the air, Red Bear looked from the hate filled eyes of his aunt to the tear filled, pleading eyes and outstretched arms of his mother.  Unaware of Black Water Woman’s intent but understanding that his mother was deeply distressed, Red Bear looked directly into the woman’s hard eyes and holding out his arms demanded the infant from her.  Not willing to anger a future war chief, Black Water Woman complied and quickly left the family.

Red Bear carried the small bundle to his mother, then took his place across from her on the buffalo robes that served as his bed.  He watched Five Horses intently as she looked upon her child for the first time.

Five Horses, also, recognized that the coloring of this baby was not true to a full Kiowa child.  Disappointment clouded her eyes and her heart as she realized this was not the child of her beloved White Eagle.  The spirits had not answered her pleas.  The infant in her arms was the son of the man who attacked her.  Memories of that horrible afternoon by the lake came back so rapidly and with such force she gasped, feeling as if the air had been forced from her lungs.  Fighting tears, Five Horses turned away from the whimpering child.

After a moment, she dared to look at the child of the white man again.  Gazing at the helpless little being in her arms, her heart began to soften.  Looking into the child’s dark unfocusing eyes she felt as if she could see to his very soul.

Slowly Five Horses began to understand that this baby was as much a victim of the white man as she was.  It was not his fault that he had been conceived in such a violent manner.

Without doubt, he was the white man’s child, but he was, also, her child.  She had carried him inside her, under her heart.  She had felt his movements as he grew.  Feeling the pain of his birth she had given him life.  Five Horses’ tears of disappointment turned to tears of joy.  As the bond between a mother and child that has existed from the beginning of life itself began to grown within Five Horses, she held the infant against her heart and placed a kiss on his fuzzy head.

“You are Running Buck,” she whispered.

Red Bear watched the changes in Five Horses with fascination.  This baby made his mother smile again.  If she could love this child of a white man, so could he.

Untying the lacing at the shoulder of her dress Five Horses held her child against her skin.  Brushing her finger softly against his face, the baby instinctively opened his mouth and turned toward her as Five Horses offered her son his first meal.

Five Horses leaned back against the buffalo robes and rested for the first time in a long time without the dreams haunting her sleep, her newborn son nursing at her breast.

Five Horses awakened with a feeling of emptiness in her arms.  Snapping fully awake she realized she was not holding her baby.  She cast a quick glance at the floor of the teepee around her.  Had she dropped him?  Perhaps Red Bear had moved him from her arms.  She looked at Red Bear sleeping soundly on his buffalo robes.  Running Buck was not with him.  Quickly jumping to her feet, panic beginning to grip her heart, she searched the teepee for her child.  Running Buck was gone.

Five Horses bolted through the opening of her teepee into the early morning mist.  Scanning the village quickly, her eyes opened wide with terror as she saw Black Water Woman standing knee deep in the water of the lake, a small bundle in her hands.   With new  found strength Five Horses ran across the village and plunged through the water as Black Water Woman leaned forward ready to submerge the baby.

“NO!” screamed Five Horses as she reached out to grab the small body of Running Buck.  “Give him to me!”

Black Water Woman was determined in her mission to kill the child and refused to loosen her hold on the screaming infant.   Hearing the cries of the child and the screams of Five Horses, curious villagers began to gather at the water to watch the tug-of-war between the two women, one intent on ending the child’s life, the other intent on saving it.  Running Buck continued to scream in fright as each woman tried to pry him from the other’s hands.

Through the tumult of splashing water and screams from the infant and battling women a strong voice shouted, “End this!”

Upon the command of her husband, Stone Eyes, Black Water Woman released her hold on Running Buck and stood seething with anger in the water.  At her release, Five Horses fell backwards into the lake clutching Running Buck protectively to her chest.  Too stunned to move, Five Horses sat on the lake’s bottom trying desperately to catch her breath and calm the cries of her shivering son.  She stared at Black Water Woman incredulously, unable to understand the depth of her hate.

Black Water Woman cried out at Five Horses, her voice filled with anger, “Two Elks is dead because of you and your bastard white child!” 

“He is my son!  I will not let you hurt him!” 

The Kiowa listened to Five Horses in disbelief.  Had she claimed the white man’s child as her own?  Had the woman lost her mind?

Black Water Woman began to sob uncontrollably as Stone Eyes stepped into the cold lake water to lead his wife away from the spectators. 

Five Horses studied the faces staring down on her to find a sign of support, but all she saw was indifference.  Her fate and the fate of her son was sealed as the Kiowa turned their backs and walked away from Five Horses and her half white son.