Chapter 5: A SISTER'S SORROW
Whispering Brook took a deep, shuddering breath as she stood before the towering chief, his eyes as cold as steel. What had she expected? For the chief to love her? Want her? He wouldn't be marrying her if he didn't need her. In that, she had value. It could have been worse. Chief Raven was exceptionally tall with a broad chest and...
The young woman's eyes trailed down her bridegroom's sinewy biceps. He was strong and would protect her yet he was also the enemy. When the time came for her to run, Whispering Brook hoped he wouldn't track her down. If he used that raw strength against her, she wouldn't stand a chance.
Whispering Brook lowered her eyes. It wasn't the cold expression in the chief's eyes that caused her heart to clench, or his strength that, if turned against her, would be fatal. No. She was once more marrying a chief - a man responsible for the death of her husband, Whispering Brook's first and only love.
Strong Oak's cry broke into Whispering Brook's thoughts, bringing her back to the present. Not much longer. Soon, Strong Oak would survive their flight. When the time came, Whispering Brook wouldn't hesitate. She'd run far and fast. After all, her sons were waiting.
"Aquene," Chief Raven spoke, at last, reaching for her hand.
Taking a deep breath, Whispering Brook squared her shoulders, placing her slender hand in the chief's large one. Silver Birch, now Small Bird, and Aquene exchanged a meaningful look, both women knowing exactly what was coming next as their new husbands led them toward the furs.
For a moment, Aquene's fingers trembled. No, she needed to be strong. Small Bird needed her. They would get through this night together. In the morning, with their husbands satisfied, they would begin to plan their escape. Until then, it was wise not to give the men reason to mistrust them.
Aquene focused on her boys somewhere out there in the snow waiting for her as Chief Raven lowered her onto the furs, his momentarily trembling fingers giving her the faintest glimpse that he, too, was struggling as he removed her white buckskin dress.
"Do not fear me," Chief Raven soothed, compassion filling his eyes as he looked down at his brave wife.
He could never love her, but Chief Raven would be good to her. After all, she would raise his son. For Long Knife's sake, Chief Raven would try to forget about his wife buried at the edge of their encampment - at least for tonight.
Aspen stood just outside the entrance to the longhouse, rubbing her arms briskly as the cold winter morning chilled her straight to the bone. She couldn't bear to go back inside - not just yet at least. Bitterness welled up in her throat, stinging the back of her eyes. Tears glimmered in her dark eyes, although she refused to let them fall.
Without a word, Aspen turned away from the warmth of the longhouse, stepping further into the frigid morning air. The world was blanketed in fresh snow, the rest of the tribe not yet stirring.
Alone in the dawn, Aspen fell to her knees, tears, at last, flowing freely.
"It should have been me...Oh, my sweet sister, what shall I do? I couldn't stop...and now..."
There were no words.
"I couldn't stop you from dying, but I can do this. I must. Your husband should have known better. How could he forget you so soon? They may forget, but I swear to you, I will not."
"He is a fool," a voice directly behind Aspen startled her.
Aspen turned around to stand face-to-face with the tribe's Shaman. He was a quiet man, keeping his own counsel. Younger than the chief, he still held the tribe's respect. Aspen's eyes were wide as she looked up into his finely chiseled features, amazed that such a great man would seek her out, least of all speak with her.
"Your loyalty to your sister is commendable. I am certain you know what you must do. Long Knife will be chief and that woman the chief has taken as his wife is unfit to fill the role of his mother. She will never and can never take the place of your sister. Brown Sparrow will always be our enemy. Had Chief Raven sought my counsel in the matter, it is you that I would have suggested he marry once his grief over his wife has abated.
This marriage was done in haste and no good can come of it. Be patient, Aspen. It is only a matter of time until he sees the error of his decision. We can only hope it will not be too late when that time comes."
Aspen lowered her eyes as the shaman gently brushed a stray wisp of inky black hair from her eyes.
'You are a great beauty. The chief is a fool. You know what you must do."
Aspen turned from her sister's grave, her eyes blazing with renewed resolve.
"I will do whatever it takes to honor my sister's memory. Our chief...I won't let him forget his first love."
The shaman's eyes darkened as he watched Aspen return to the longhouse. The first part of his plan was complete.