Savage Illusions

Kirk smi­led and mo­ved to a sit­ting po­si­ti­on, then his smi­le fa­ded as Spot­ted Eag­le ca­me and sto­od over him.

"Soon you will be strong eno­ugh to tra­vel to the ri­ver, to ri­de on the lar­ge whi­te ca­noe back to Sa­int Lo­u­is," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, his eyes nar­ro­wing as he ga­zed down at Kirk, kno­wing that he must get this brot­her out of Jole­na's li­fe as so­on as pos­sib­le. As long as Kirk was the­re, he was a re­min­der to Jole­na of the li­fe that she had left be­hind, whe­re the dwel­lings we­re lar­ge and ela­bo­ra­te, and whe­re her whi­te fat­her awa­ited her re­turn.

"Do you see me as a thre­at?" Kirk ta­un­ted, so­on reg­ret­ting his words when he he­ard Jole­na's gasp of hor­ror. He ac­cep­ted the bowl of so­up that Jole­na an­g­rily sho­ved in­to his hands.

"I'll be go­ne so­on eno­ugh," Kirk then grum­b­led.

Kirk ga­ve Jole­na a half glan­ce, then lo­oked qu­ickly away from her aga­in. "At le­ast I ha­ven't for­got­ten whe­re my lo­yal­ti­es lie," he sa­id in a low grum­b­le.

Jolena sho­ved a spo­on in­to his free hand. "I think you'd best eat in­s­te­ad of talk," she sa­id, her vo­ice drawn.

She ga­ve Spot­ted Eag­le an apo­lo­ge­tic lo­ok, then ro­se and went to him as he mo­ve

d away from the fi­re, still hol­ding his leg­gings in­s­te­ad of chan­ging in­to them.

"He is less than gra­te­ful to this Blac­k­fo­ot war­ri­or who is sha­ring his lod­ge and me­di­ci­ne with him," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, tur­ning to gla­re down at Jole­na.

"My brot­her is af­ra­id of lo­sing me," Jole­na sa­id, res­ting a hand on his arm. "That's all. Ple­ase try and un­der­s­tand."

"I ne­ver un­der­s­tand ru­de­ness," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id in a low rum­b­le.

"Yes, my brot­her can be that," Jole­na sa­id, sig­hing he­avily. "But put yo­ur­self in his pla­ce, Spot­ted Eag­le. What if you had a sis­ter and a whi­te man wan­ted her? Wo­uld you ac­cept it wit­ho­ut re­sen­ting that man?"

"Spotted Eag­le al­ways thinks be­fo­re he spe­aks!" Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, cas­ting Kirk a so­ur glan­ce over Jole­na's sho­ul­der. "This brot­her of yo­urs co­uld still be in the aban­do­ned Cree camp. In­s­te­ad, he is in Spot­ted Eag­le's dwel­ling, sle­eping on Spot­ted Eag­le's pelts, eating from Spot­ted Eag­le's bowls, and ta­king away Spot­ted Eag­le's pri­vacy."

Spotted Eag­le le­aned down clo­se to Jole­na's fa­ce. He ga­zed in­ten­sely in­to her eyes. "We can­not ma­ke lo­ve whi­le yo­ur brot­her is he­re," he sa­id, his jaw tight. "Sho­uld Spot­ted Eag­le be happy? No! But he do­es not spe­ak of this to yo­ur brot­her. I show res­pect to tho­se who are not well. It is hard, yet I do it just the sa­me!"

Before Jole­na co­uld res­pond, Spot­ted Eag­le con­ti­nu­ed, "To­mor­row yo­ur brot­her will be ta­ken to the ri­ver and war­ri­ors will stay with him un­til the lar­ge ca­noe co­mes for him," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, his vo­ice firm. "To­day is as far as my ge­ne­ro­sity go­es to­ward him!"

Jolena's lips par­ted and her eyes grew wi­de. "But what if he is not strong eno­ugh?" she as­ked, her vo­ice tre­mu­lo­us. "Spot­ted Eag­le, he's go­ne thro­ugh a ter­rib­le or­de­al."

"If he is any kind of a man, he will sur­vi­ve," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id. He slung his leg­gings over his arm and clas­ped her sho­ul­der. "For us it is im­por­tant that he get on with his li­fe, so we can get on with ours. And that is the way it will be." Mo­on Flo­wer ca­me in­to the te­pee, chat­te­ring as she mo­ved to her kne­es be­si­de the pal­let of furs on which Kirk lay.

"You are eating?" she sa­id, clas­ping her hands in her lap. Her eyes be­amed. "You li­ke my fo­od? I co­oked it slow thro­ugh the night." She gig­gled. "Brown Elk chi­ded me this mor­ning, tel­ling me that the smell kept his sto­mach grow­ling all night and kept him awa­ke."

"I can see why it wo­uld," Kirk sa­id, la­ug­hing softly. "It not only smells de­li­ci­o­us, it tas­tes go­od." He set his empty bowl asi­de and pla­ced a gen­t­le hand on Mo­on Flo­wer's che­ek. "Thank you. I truly ap­pre­ci­ate yo­ur con­ti­nu­ed kin­d­ness to me."

Moon Flo­wer blus­hed and lo­we­red her eyes, then stif­fe­ned when Kirk as­ked a qu­es­ti­on that se­emed to cut de­ep in­to her so­ul.

"Are you mar­ri­ed?" Kirk sa­id, gro­aning as sit­ting up to­ok much ef­fort. "Such a be­a­uti­ful lady sho­uld ha­ve many men fig­h­ting over her."

When Mo­on Flo­wer co­uld not find the words to spe­ak of the re­cent tra­gedy, Jole­na went to her res­cue. "Kirk, the­re was one man," she sa­id. "Two Rid­ges. But he's de­ad."

Kirk pa­led as he lo­oked up at Jole­na. "Two Rid­ges­t­he one who ro­de with the ex­pe­di­ti­on as a gu­ide? He is de­ad?" he sa­id, gas­ping. "When? How?"

"As you know, the Cree are a prob­lem in this re­gi­on," Jole­na mur­mu­red.

"The Cree kil­led him?" Kirk sa­id, his eyes wi­de.

"Yes, in­s­tantly," Jole­na sa­id, swal­lo­wing hard as she shif­ted her eyes over to Mo­on Flo­wer.

Kirk grew so­lemn and qu­i­et.

Moon Flo­wer saw how Kirk was wit­h­d­ra­wing in­to him­self and ma­de mo­ves to stop him. ''But you are ali­ve," she sa­id, ta­king his hands. "Altho­ugh tor­tu­red and left to die, you are ali­ve, and on the ro­ad to com­p­le­te re­co­very. So let us not think an­y­mo­re on the Cree or the­ir evil. Let us fe­el bles­sed that you are ali­ve."

Moon Flo­wer lo­oked over her sho­ul­der at the sim­me­ring so­up, then an­xi­o­usly in­to Kirk's eyes aga­in. "Mo­re so­up?" she mur­mu­red. "I shall fe­ed you."

Kirk smi­led and nod­ded. "Mo­re so­up," he sa­id. "But I can fe­ed myself. It is best that I not le­arn to le­an on an­yo­ne el­se whi­le in this wild co­untry."