Deed to Damnation

Watchful Fox and Waiting Wolf

They approached the village with Dark Eagle leading the way, ensuring that the two white settlers were welcome here. In these volatile times, his tribe, the Cheyenne, were cautious of any white men. Many of his people, as well as their newly acquired allies, the Sioux, had been moved to  a reservation in Colorado. That was far from where they were now. It was the second time they had been chased from their lands and forced south. Many of the tribes  were basically herded into these new places and incorporated themselves in the new ways of the settlers but still maintained their customs. But Dark Eagle's tribe and a handful of others resisted the movement. They were the few holdouts and defended their land in the Black Hills with deadly force if necessary.
"When we arrive," Henry said gruffly, "you're going to behave like a demure, submissive woman. The Cheyenne expect their women to be reserved and nurturing. That's the act I want you to perform. I know it's a stretch for you."
Ireland barely heard his provoking comment. She was too fascinated by the children that came running from the village to greet Dark Eagle and the strange visitors he brought with him. The mothers looked on, keeping a safe distance but also a watchful eye on the young ones.
"Why are we here, Henry?" She whispered, as he brought the wagon to a halt.
"Just pretend it's your honeymoon." He said dryly. "You don't have to concern yourself with anything else."
How could she not be concerned? No sooner had he helped her down from the wagon, she found herself surrounded by young, curious natives that were touching the hem of her skirt, eager to inspect the unusual material and marveling at her headwear.
Ireland was just as inquisitive, looking in wonderment at the tall teepees that dotted the village and the unusual dress of the inhabitants she saw.
As Dark Eagle led them both into the bustling village, the people that came out to observe them followed until they came to the largest of the teepees. It reached to the early October sky, plumes of white smoke billowing from the pointed top. The young Brave pulled back the tanned hide flap and invited Henry to enter but when Ireland went to follow, he grabbed her roughly by the arm and barked something at her in his dialect.
"He wants to know if you're bleeding, Ireland." Henry informed her.
"Bleeding?" She answered, eyes widening and inspecting her arms and the front of her dress. "No! I'm not hurt."
Henry rolled his eyes.
"A woman bleed."
She blushed profusely. What a rude question to ask, she thought with outrage.
"You won't be permitted to enter the chief's home if you are. Not only that, you won't be permitted in the village. You'll have to go back to the wagon or reside with the other women who are currently afflicted until you're done." Henry informed her.
"You know I'm not!" She hissed. "What does that have.."
Before she could answer, Henry pulled back his hand and slapped her lightly in the mouth. It stunned her into silence and she stared at him wide eyed.
"Watch your tone. You're not the queen of Solstice. Here, you are a guest." He warned. "It took me months to earn their trust and if you blow it, I'll sell you to them to prove my loyalty."
She kept quiet after Henry informed Dark Eagle that she was pure at the moment. What an odd custom, she thought. But no matter, like Henry said, she was a guest here and hopefully not for too long.
The chief's name was Howling Star and he spoke broken English, welcoming them both inside and calling Henry, Waiting Wolf. He sat on a neatly folded pile of animal skins. His long mane of hair did not gleam like Dark Eagle's. It cascaded down his back in course, wiry strands, the streaks of silver slowly overtaking what had once been straight and pitch black. But of course the chief was much older than his son, Dark Eagle. His face showed his years. His mahogany tinted skin was lined with the deep tracks of age but his eyes mirrored what was inside. They shined with knowing and wisdom and Ireland was enthralled by him. She took her seat next to Henry around the small, circular stone hearth of the intimate den and tried not to stare too hard. He was so captivating though! The intricately beaded buckskin jacket he wore hung on his broad shoulders alluding to the fact that despite his age, he was still a formidable man. He smiled thoughtfully, his almond shaped eyes crinkling at the corners.
"I see why my son named you, Watchful Fox." He said with a small smile. "You find me strange."
Ireland blushed bright pink. Her effort to be discreet had obviously failed. But her eyes were drawn to the jewelry that pierced his face. Round golden rings rimmed the shell of both ears, three on each side of his head. But perhaps the most unusual was the golden loop through his nose. She had never seen such a thing!
"I'm sorry." She stammered. "I don't mean to be rude."
"It is okay to be curious." The Chief said. "Being curious brings knowledge."
Henry remained stone faced. She could tell that the small talk was irritating him but he wasn't in a place to give orders this time. That was also something she wasn't used to seeing.
"I am just as curious." Howling Star admitted. "She is your woman? Or is she a part of your business with me?"
"I'm his wife!" Ireland announced.
It was a little louder than she intended perhaps. But she wasn't about to be lumped in with some illicit bargain Henry had brewing.
"Not under Cheyenne custom, you're not." Henry retorted coldly. "They believe in your biblical fantasies about as much as I do."
Howling Star seemed amused by the bickering.
"So she's not your wife?" He asked.
"We were married in a Christian ceremony and in a legal marriage in accordance with our laws. That is the only one I'm interested in." Henry explained "I'll let you make up your own mind."
The Chief laughed lowly, tossing more kindling on the warming fire. The declaration turned Watchful Fox's face sour, he noticed. It was clear to him that the union meant more to the woman than it did to Waiting Wolf.
"I will not be the only curious one about that." Howling Star said. "Little Bird heard you were coming here. She has been looking to see you."
Henry snickered and Ireland narrowed her eyes at the familiar sound of it. She knew it all too well. It was a taunting chuckle, as if it was some kind of secret joke.
"Yes, Little Bird is not so little." Henry smiled.
"I told her to stay away from you. You are not good for her." Howling Star told him. "It's not in her future to marry a white man."
"I agree completely!" Ireland chimed in. "Especially this white man. I can attest to that!"
Her reaction caused Howling Star to burst into laughter. And although Ireland was insulted that he found her stinging words funny, she couldn't help but start giggling herself. His laugh was rich and contagious. She was starting to like this unusual, mysterious savage.
"It doesn't take a Christian god to tell me that you're married. You sound like my third wife!" He snorted.
Henry was the only one not enjoying the conversation. She could tell by his set jaw and and the cold look he shot her. If anything, it should be me who's sulking, she thought. Who is this Little Bird and why would she be happy to see a man like her beast of a husband anyway?
"I don't know how you manage three of these." Henry remarked, flicking his eyes over Ireland. "It's clear that one is more than enough."
Howling Star chuckled. "They are a compliment to me and I care for them all. They give me sons and daughters..and headaches."
Finally, Henry managed a smile but Ireland was taken aback. Howling Star has three wives? All at one time? If it hadn't been clear before, it was abundantly obvious now. There was not a trace of marital Christian values anywhere in this culture.
"Do your women not care that they share a husband?" She asked.
By the look Henry shot her, she thought maybe she had broken some kind of etiquette, but Howling Star's broad smile eased her.
"No. It's always been that way. Of course, they don't have to accept a proposal from a man that already has a wife." He informed her. "But many do. They help each other raise the children."
"They typically don't get involved in men's business either." Henry huffed.
"That would be true, if she was a Cheyenne woman." The Chief responded. "You seem troubled, Waiting Wolf. What brings you here?"
The talk of marriages was over and Ireland stayed silent. She too, was curious about their reason for having come all the way out here.
"I have it on good authority there are more white men that are preparing to take this land from you." Henry stated. "I'm here to warn you and to help you."
If Howling Star was alarmed, he didn't show it. To Ireland, he seemed unsurprised, his dark eyes searching Henry's grave face.
"Many?" He asked.
"Yes. But I can stop that from happening." Henry replied. "I want you to let me occupy the land they're coming for."
The Chief took a deep breath and stared into the licking flames. It had been over a year since his first encounter with Henry Delarue and to say it was a strained one was an understatement. It all started with Little Bird, his wandering, oldest daughter. And if it weren't for the promise of firearms, he would have had Waiting Wolf gutted and would have personally flown his scalp from his war spear proudly.
His daughter had always been wayward and rebellious and was attracted to people of the same nature. It was no surprise when he learned she had been sneaking away to meet up with a man. What he hadn't expected was that it was a white man and one with a bad reputation. Of course, he didn't know that at the time but his daughter begged for the man's life, insisting her virtue was still intact despite the compromising position the two of them were caught in. It had taken a while but eventually Howling Star had come to trust him. Henry Delarue had armed them and kept bringing weapons even after he swore to stop pursuing Little Bird. All he had asked in return was small pieces of land within the tribal area. It had been a lucrative deal on both ends.
"I want to bring my people here." Henry said. "I think you may want to take advantage of my connections. More weapons. More protections.."
Howling Star waved his hand, dismissing him in mid sentence.
"What is the difference between your people and the others that you say are coming?" He asked sharply.
"Because my people will enrich you. And the others? They'll be coming to destroy you." Henry warned.
There was no use in being cautious with his approach to this matter. He had to secure the land immediately and have Howling Star to agree to it. This was not something Henry could just go in and take for himself unfortunately. The two remaining tribes of Sioux and the Cheyenne were formidable in numbers and would easily decimate his gang of twenty five lawless men if they just decided to come and occupy it.
"I can bring more guns. I can get my hands on explosives if you want them." Henry urged. "With my contacts, I could track when and at it which point they would be invading."
Howling Star let out a deep sigh and for the first time Ireland saw an uneasiness come over the Chief. His heavy brow furrowed and his mouth became a taut line.
"How much more land?"
His tone held a hint of annoyance, maybe even distrust and Henry heard it loud and clear.
"Enough so that I know you're protected and that I'll be protected if I need it." He answered.
Howling Star cocked an eyebrow.
"From whom would you need protection?" He asked skeptically.
"I don't have to tell you the firepower I've given you isn't exactly legal in the eyes of my government." Was the simple explanation.
The Indian chief sat up straight and stayed silent for a few long moments. Ireland could feel the tension in the air and was surprised to find that she had been holding her breath. What was Henry doing and why was he lying? Everyone who knew the man knew he wasn't capable of caring for anyone, let alone a tribe of natives. She almost laughed out loud when she heard him offer protection. Henry only protected what he deemed valuable and human life hadn't made the cut.
Finally, Howling Star spoke.
"This is not a decision I want to make by myself. I must consult the elders first."
Henry's shoulders deflated only slightly but his face remained unaffected by the Chief's decision. Instead, he nodded in agreement.
How long was this going to take, he thought impatiently. He didn't understand why the old man was hesitant. Over the past year, he had worked hard on a carefully constructed veil of trust. Shit, he had brought them a small armory in weapons over that time and kept his word at every turn, including keeping his paws off the insatiable Little Bird.
"Well, I can only hope you heed my warning." Henry stated flatly. "Time is short."
"I will call a meeting immediately. You will stay in the village tonight and feast with us." Howling Star offered. "Your wife is not a wife under Cheyenne law, so she will be tended to by the squaws and will stay in my first wife's home."
"I don't want to be left alone!" Ireland spoke up. "Henry, tell him you want me with you! Tell him I am your wife!"
"Do not worry, Watchful Fox. You will meet up around the fire tonight after the men make a decision. It is not a place for a woman." The Chief informed her.
His tone was friendly but his face was hard as stone and Ireland dared not argue or talk back. She was out of place here and despite Howling Star's welcoming demeanor, he was still a savage. The warnings her father gave her were once again fresh in her mind.
As if on cue, a young girl entered the domain and held her hand out to Ireland, who shrunk back against the invite. Henry grabbed her by the arm and pulled her in close. His whisper was a growl in her ear.
"So help me Ireland, if you screw this up, I'll throw you in along with the ten long rifles I brought with us just because. Now get!"
And that was the end of that. Henry practically shoved her out of the teepee and Ireland found herself being guided towards Howling Star's wife's home at a quick pace with the villagers staring curiously as she was ushered along. She was almost relieved when she found herself standing inside another cozy den of a home, away from prying eyes. The reprieve didn't last long however, as she came face to face with another set of eyes and they were stern and wary.
The older woman introduced herself.
"I am Winter Willow. I am Howling Star's wife."
Ireland stood frozen for a moment. She hadn't expected her to speak English nor to be as tall. Winter Willow stood a full head above her and despite her sun washed face, her body was strong and healthy. It was obvious she was quite a few years younger than her powerful husband but commanded respect by stance alone. Her onyx eyes flicked over the new guest and she scrunched her broad nose.
"You belong to Waiting Wolf?" She asked, pulling some garments from a tall woven basket.
"I am his wife." Ireland stammered.
"No." The woman retorted abruptly. "You are not."
"Yes, I am." She shot back.
"We do not listen to your laws. You are with Cheyenne now. You will stay with me." Winter Willow stated.
Ireland found the garments the chief's wife had fished out for her, unceremoniously tossed at her face. She caught them before they made contact and glared.
"You will wear this. You will help prepare food." Winter instructed.
Ireland looked down at the fringed, buckskin dress with its simple turquoise beading. What was wrong with what she had on now? And what did she mean about preparing food? Howling Star had welcomed them as guests. As far as she was concerned, guests were not required to cook for their hosts. Not to mention the woman was refusing to believe that her wedding vows were even valid. All Ireland wanted to do was get back to the wagon and stay there until Henry was done doing whatever kind of dirty deal he had brewing.
"Thank you." She snapped, throwing the tribal dress back at her. "You tell Henry I'll be waiting with the horses!"
Winter had knocked the clothing to the ground and was staring at her, her thick fists resting on her ample hips. She looked more annoyed than angry. No matter, Ireland thought and turned to leave, but her exit was blocked by another woman who shoved her back in with an abrupt push. And whatever words she was yelling may have been foreign, there was no mistaking the venom in them. Suddenly, Winter was between them, barking at the young intruder and bumping Ireland, none too gently, farther into the den.
The exchange only lasted a few moments but it became clear that the attractive, young squaw was most likely Winter's daughter because she left in a huff but not before leveling an icy glare, her amber irises narrowing dangerously.
"You will stay close to me." Winter ordered. "Little Bird does not like you."
"The feeling is mutual." Ireland muttered under her breath.
"You will get dressed now."
And with that, Winter left her to change into the clothing of the natives.