Dangerous Dreams: A Novel (127 page)

“They attack my people.”

Isna nodded. “And the Chesapeakes. That is the second glow.”

Emily stared at him. “Isna . . . I did not understand how this would feel . . . all my people . . . Ellie, Ananias, Waters . . . my friend Shines . . . all will be dead in a few minutes . . . their heads smashed, bodies full of arrows, torn apart, burned, tortured. Isna, they’re all going to die . . . all of them. I must help them.”

He shook his head. “Emily cannot help them. No one can help them.”

Emily looked back toward the village.

Isna laid his hands on her shoulders. “Emily, we have much distance to cover in a short time. We will not leave an easy trail, but we must move quickly if we are to find good ground before we fight.”

Emily again visualized Elyoner and Ananias being bludgeoned and hacked to death, their bodies mutilated, burned on a huge fire. She said a quick prayer then sighed, stared into Isna’s eyes, and as if she’d turned the
last page of a book, said, “ ’Tis done . . . I am ready . . . my new life begins now.” And as dawn’s first glimmer teased the horizon, she followed Isna toward the mountains, and their fate.

Chapter 26

E
mily lay wide-eyed on her left side beneath a deerskin robe, cuddled the sleeping Virginia to her chest as she fought valiantly to exorcise the disquieting uneasiness that pervaded her mind and soul. What will the morrow bring, what will remain, if anything, of my life, my dreams, my future, after this inescapable encounter that will soon overtake us? She closed her eyes. But what is it that troubles me so? ’Tis not the thought of dying itself. Nay, I’ve confronted death too many times already to fear it. She opened her eyes, smiled to herself. Nay, Mistress Colman, ’tis your heart and its fear of the very real possibility of losing your life before you consummate your commitment, your marriage, to the man you love above all in the world. She glanced at the black sky above her. Would that my friend the moon would escape those evil black clouds that hide her light, and allow me to see his face, so I might know his mind, understand what course this first, and perhaps last, night with him will take.

A moment later, the moon slid unexpectedly from behind the clouds; she saw Isna’s intense, dark eyes drilling into hers with the same disquietude that haunted her entire being. Her heart suddenly quickened; chills danced nimbly down her neck and back. I know what I must do. She whispered, “ Isna and Emily will perhaps die tomorrow.”

“Yes, my little white fawn.”

“And this night—their first together—may be their last.”

“Yes.”

She held her stare for a moment then gently eased away from Virginia, laid the fur over her, stood, stepped quietly to Isna’s far side.

He rose, took her hands in his; their eyes again met, spoke an unmistakable message.

Emily whispered, “Perhaps Emily and Isna will—”

“Will Emily be Isna’s wife?”

Her apprehension fled, she smiled. “Yes. Will Isna take Emily?”

He smiled back. “Yes.”

“Who will marry Emily and Isna?”

“When two people agree to marry, and a proper ceremony is not possible, they may commit to each other and marry themselves . . . and have a ceremony when they are able.” He eased her closer, moved his lips slowly toward hers until they touched with a gentle, loving softness that belied the torrid emotions about to ignite between them. He leaned back, smiled tenderly at her. “Emily is Isna’s wife . . . forever.”

Her heart pounded with anticipation; her chest heaved. She held her eyes on his, slowly reached to the top of her right shoulder, untied the three ties that bound her doeskin dress at the top. The right side of the dress dropped to her elbow, bared her right shoulder and breast. One by one, she unfastened the ties on the left; the dress fell to her ankles. Moonlight bathed her body, accentuated the rhythmic heaving of her full, erect breasts, the small patch of hair at the top of her legs. With glistening, damp lips, she stared beguilingly into his eyes, felt the warm dampness of expectation rise within her.

He slowly reached to his waist, untied his loincloth, let it fall to his feet. He stared at her for a moment then held her hands, guided her down to his deerskin robe, pulled another on top of them, began to explore and caress her body.

Emily trembled, felt steamy perspiration dampen her body, a wave of primitive passion like she’d felt at the harvest dance. She touched his cheeks, panted, kissed him wildly, teased his tongue with hers; felt his manhood throbbing against her, reached down, softly caressed it; felt his lips on her firm nipples, his fingers between her legs, softly touching, slowly searching their way inside her. She surrendered her soul; her hips moved rhythmically with his touch as her passion billowed like a towering thunderstorm; her senses exploded, yearned for the precipice,
the release that would complete her gift of herself to the man she’d love forever.

Allie awoke panting, wet with sweat, exhausted, afloat in a dizzying sea of ecstasy. Oh my God . . . what a ride . . . every emotion . . . everything. But how can it be?

She suddenly tensed as an uninvited thought shot through her mind like an arrow. This may be their only night together . . . ever. She sat up, shook her head. “No, God, please don’t let them die there. Please . . . let them live, have
some
life together. Please.”

She closed her eyes, imagined them in a desperate, hand-to-hand fight with the Powhatans: Isna being clubbed by the Panther and three other warriors, Emily shielding Virginia with her body then aiming her pistol at four screaming warriors racing toward her, the other three Lakota dead on the ground, their bodies peppered with arrows like George Howe.

She fell back on the bed, took three long, deep breaths; spread her legs and arms out to her sides, ordered her body to relax, voided her mind; absorbed the cool softness of the sheets, let it envelope her, levitate her, carry her back to her dream. Go back, Allie . . . go back . . . eyes heavy . . . I’m coming, Em . . . please be there . . . please be . . .

A grizzly bear and a small white fawn walked together. Soon, scores of brown and white fawns appeared beside them, followed them for a while, but then dispersed in different directions until all vanished, except for one brown fawn that turned into an old woman with two black stones around her neck and a Lakota vision pipe in her hand. A new white fawn then appeared beside the old woman, and the old woman placed her hand on its head. Then, along with the two black stones and pipe, the old woman vanished, leaving only the little white fawn, who then grew into a blacktail doe with its own little white fawn. But an instant later, the two black stones
and pipe appeared around the little white fawn’s neck, and she immediately changed form.

Allie trembled, gasped in her sleep; her breathing and heartbeat spiked. Behind closed eyelids, her eyes swept wildly from stop to stop: right, left, up, down. Then a new dream began.

While the knot in Emily’s stomach tightened with each ray of advancing dawn, she sat and nursed Virginia in the slowly fading darkness. She wasn’t sure which was worse—the knot or the constant, feathery fluttering that encircled it like a covey of birds trying to escape their cage. She took a deep breath, looked down at Virginia. We will fight today, little one . . . would that I were a Viking shield-maiden, skilled and fearless in battle, rather than a young English girl who knows naught but how to shoot a pistol. Then, perchance, I could help you . . . and . . . and my husband. She smiled.
My husband
. . .
my love
. . . saints above! I am married . . . the wife of a Lakota warrior . . . for the rest of our lives. A sudden gust of uneasiness blew through her mind. But will
the rest of our lives
be an hour . . . or, pray God, a full lifetime. She closed her eyes, savored the night’s three passionate, unrestrained ascents with Isna, their three euphoric, exhausting arrivals at the zenith.

Virginia smacked her lips as she released Emily’s breast, then smiled, cooed at her. Emily shook off her thoughts, forced a tepid smile, caressed Virginia’s cheek. The smile vanished as she imagined Elyoner and Ananias, their faces smiling at her, then two Powhatans holding Ananias while others repeatedly raped Elyoner. She then saw both dead, dismembered, their charred remains smoldering in the dying embers of the village. She shook the images from her mind. And you, my new daughter, will you see another day? She looked toward Isna, who knelt beside Soft-Nose twenty feet away with his back toward her, watched him whisper, draw in the dirt with a
stick, point at the two gaps at opposite ends of the large boulder formation that surrounded them. Plan well, my love . . . plan well.

She hadn’t given much attention to their location the night before, had been too exhausted to notice
anything
, but now she realized the boulder formation was like a small fort. The boulders all stood six to eight feet high, encircled an oval-shaped clearing fifty feet
long
east to west and twenty-five feet
wide
north to south, and had no passable openings between the boulders except for narrow gaps at the east and west ends. A solitary boulder about four feet high and five feet wide sat fifteen feet inside the west gap, close to the north wall; while two larger boulders sat on either side of the east gap, also about fifteen feet inside the protected area. Thank you, my Lord, for perchance thinking of us when you made this place.