Captive Bride (59 page)

 
Again Arakashe rattled off orders in his native tongue. When Rozalyn had been herded across the camp and placed on the paint pony beside him, Arakashe's condescending gaze fell upon Aubrey. "You and the other Longknives will be set adrift in your boats at sunrise. But you will have no oars or poles to navigate the channel. Let Morningstar decide which rout the Long-knives take." His arms lifted to indicate the roaring falls and then it swung to the hazardous rapids that would capsize a boat unless it was guided by poles and oars. "The Great Spirit of the Crow will decide your destiny, Apitsa. That is more than you allowed Bitshipe when she chose the man she had come to love with all her heart. You would not accept her decision. Now you will live or die by the decision of Morningstar. Your destiny lies in the hands of the Great Spirit. If he is merciful with you, I will not be when you return with your caravans to frighten away the game from our hunting grounds. Hear my words, Apitsa. The people of the Sparrow Hawk will swoop down on you if you dare to trespass on our lands. Only those Longknives who are willing to live in peace with the Crow and his white brothers will hunt and trap in the mountain meadows between Yellowstone and the Wind River. But you, who cannot make peace with yourself, will never by the ally of the Crow."

 
With that final declaration, Arakashe took up the dangling reins of Rozalyn's steed and disappeared into the underbrush, leaving his braves to stand watch over the Longknives until first light.

 
Rozalyn managed to keep still until they were out of earshot of the camp, but when they were alone she could not remain silent. Even if her father had wronged Arakashe's family, she could not allow this injustice to take place. The lives of innocent men were threatened. "I had come to look upon you as a friend, Arakashe," Rozalyn blurted out. "I spoke to you from my heart and felt your sorrow when I learned of the loss of your, daughter. Will you turn a deaf ear when I dare to plead for my father's life?"

 
"I am council chief of the Crow," Arakashe reminded her, his dark eyes focusing on her determined expression. "Apitsa, your father, once a friend of my people, was given the chance to make peace and wash away the hatred that poisons his soul. He has long lived in bitterness. I will deal with him in the method he understands. He chose his own way when he denied Bear-Claw's outstretched hand of friendship." The chief peered straight ahead while he led Rozalyn back to the war camp of the Crow. "Do not ask me to forgive a man who will not forgive. Do not ask me to be merciful to a man who judges all others by his bitter past. You waste your breath pleading for his soul. From this day forward you will be the daughter of the Crow council chief and you will obey my wishes, no matter how unfair they may seem to you. It is the way of the Crow woman to heed and obey. Do not anger me with protests. You are no longer white, even though your skin differs from that of our people. You will become one of us, Mitskapa."

 
Rozalyn could tell by Arakashe's firm tone that the subject was closed. Perhaps the chief thought Aubrey deserved to die, but Rozalyn feared the news of the Crow attack would ignite a war between Indians and whites. If Aubrey died a new feud would begin, one that encompassed more than one family's bitter hatred for another. It seemed an already intolerable situation had worsened. Perhaps she could be with Hawk again, but at what price?

 
Rozalyn slumped on her steed, and as she did so an another unpleasant thought came to her mind. Perhaps Arakashe had decided to avenge Rose Blossom's death by making Rozalyn suffer through a life without the man she loved. Was the chief that vengeful?

 
Her eyes swung to Arakashe, whose face was set in a determined frown, and suddenly she wondered if she knew the chief at all. He seemed so distant and remote, so uncaring of her feelings and so preoccupied with his own. Perhaps his bitterness toward Aubrey had surfaced after smoldering
 
for
 
many
 
years.
 
Indians were complex, superstitious souls, after all. Perhaps Arakashe believed he was following the commands of Morningstar. In any case, he had set his mind, and nothing would deter him.

 
Rozalyn recalled how simple life had been when she'd been flitting about the streets of St. Louis, cavorting with Harvey Duncan and his rowdy friends. Now she stood to lose her father and perhaps even Hawk. To make matters worse, another war between Indian and white could break out on the western frontier. The situation was a dire one. First she had been miserable and lonely without Hawk, but now she was apprehensive of the repercussions that would follow Arakashe's decision to set her father and his men adrift and to force her to live with the Crow.

 
"Arakashe, you must listen to me," Rozalyn pleaded frantically.

 
"It is not a Crow woman's place to offer advice," Arakashe snapped, his dark eyes nailing Rozalyn to the tree where he had deposited her. "You will do as I command . . . without question or complaint. If I decide to give you to one of my warriors, then you will accept him as your husband. If you refuse to do my bidding, life with the Crow will not be pleasant for you. You will be called by no other name than Mitskapa. You will dress like the Crow and follow our customs. There can be no friendship between us if you will not accept me as your father and the chief of our people."

 
Angrily, Arakashe gestured toward the pallet and then sank down on the bedroll that lay beside it. "Sleep, Mitskapa. Tomorrow we will learn the fate of the man you once knew as your father."

 
Begrudgingly, Rozalyn eased herself onto the pallet, thankful that Arakashe trusted her enough not to tie her down. Although she might face his fury, Rozalyn silently made plans to sneak from camp when the chief had given way to sleep. She wasn't certain how she would go about setting her father and his men free, but she had to try, even if her efforts provoked Arakashe's wrath. Eventually, the chief would apprehend her, Rozalyn knew that, and she wasn't anticipating the confrontation, but there seemed no other way to aid her father for Arakashe wouldn't listen to reason.

 
Pretending to sleep, Rozalyn lay as still as a corpse until she heard Arakashe's even breathing. Then, carefully, she inched away and climbed to her feet to retrieve her pony. Casting one last glance over her shoulder, she disappeared into the shadows of the night, leaving Arakashe sleeping on his pallet.

 
Just before dawn Aubrey was nudged awake by one of the Crow braves. With his hands bound in front of him, he was shuffled into a keelboat, along with the rest of his men. The fleet, set adrift, was swept sideways across the swift channel before the boats were caught in a whirlpool and spun around the jutting boulders. When the captain less fleet surged back into the stream, it was drawn into the current that led to the falls, and Aubrey knew he had little chance of surviving the drop to the river two hundred feet below. A knot of apprehension coiled in his belly, but at least the end to his misery was in sight. Perhaps this is what I deserve, he thought to himself.

 
When the keelboat veered sideways once again before lurching ahead in the powerful current, Aubrey heard the crack of timber on the far shore. To his amazement, a huge tree crashed into the channel ahead of the fleet. When his astonished gaze circled back to shore, his jaw sagged for Hawk strode toward the riverbank, Bear-Claw and four trappers following in his wake. The last two people Aubrey would have expected to save him from disaster were Hawk and his father.

 
He was jostled from his musings when the keelboat in which he was riding clanked against the fallen timber and clogged on the barricade. But his eyes swung back to Hawk who had bounded onto the monstrous tree and was striding across this makeshift bridge. A wry smile pursed Hawk's lips when he peered down at the entrepreneur who had been bound in his boat.

 
"You seem to be in a bit of a scrape, Aubrey," he taunted.

 
"Toss me your knife," Aubrey ordered briskly. As he did so, he glanced toward the end of the log, wondering how many minutes it would take for the current to drag the boat into the channel and send it plummeting over the falls.

 
"I will be happy to accommodate you if you agree to my terms," Hawk said pleasantly, although he, too, was discreetly speculating on the length of time they would have to barter. He could tell by the frustrated expression on Aubrey's face that the furrier was furious to find himself so compromised.

 
DuBois gritted his teeth, knowing he was going to be on the short end of Hawk's proposition. "What the hell do you want now?" he queried acrimoniously.

 
"A market for my goods for as long as rendezvous is held in the Rockies."

 
When the keelboat slid free of the tangling limbs that had halted its course, Aubrey nodded begrudgingly. "A market," he ground out. "Now toss me your knife so I can free my hands!" Growling when he was upended by another keelboat that rammed him broadside, Aubrey wobbled to his feet and impatiently glared at Hawk, who still had not offered him the key to his salvation—a knife. Aubrey was so annoyed that he considered bounding from the boat, but he feared being squashed between the drifting keelboats before he could reach the fallen tree.

"I have another request," Hawk insisted, a slow grin working its way across his tanned features.

 
"Dammit, out with it," Aubrey growled in exasperation.

"Your blessing," Hawk said simply.

 
A wary frown creased Aubrey's perspiring brow. "My blessing?"

 
"If you will give your consent to let me marry Rozalyn, I will plead with Arakashe for your life and the return of enough supplies for you and your men to survive the journey to St. Louis."

 
"No," Aubrey snapped. His burning gaze drilled into Hawk who showed no signs of melting beneath its heat.

 
Hawk's shoulder lifted in a nonchalant shrug. "Well, it is your life." His unconcerned gaze swung to the end of the tree, toward which Aubrey's boat was steadily drifting. "After you have plummeted over the falls, I won't need your blessing, will I?"

 
That remark made Aubrey turn pale, and when the keelboat lurched into the current and bumped along the fallen timber, he swallowed nervously.

 
Hawk grinned. "You haven't much time. Would you like to reconsider?"

 
When the boat slammed against the tree, toppling Aubrey, he let out a defeated sigh and climbed back to his feet. "Very well, speak to Arakashe on my behalf," he ground out.

"Do I have your blessing?" Hawk prodded.

 
"You have my consent since I have no other choice," Aubrey begrudgingly corrected.

 
After Aubrey had forced out these words, Hawk told the other trappers to tie down the keelboats and let them bobble with the current. When the floating caravan had been secured, Hawk hopped ashore and disappeared into the underbrush, leaving Aubrey to wonder if even he could persuade Arakashe to change his mind when the chief was set on vengeance. But it was Aubrey's only hope that the chiefs grandson had enough influence with him to do so. Exhausted, Aubrey collapsed in the empty keelboat and then braved a glance at the roaring falls. He could not help but wonder if Hawk's attempt to parley with Arakashe would only prolong the inevitable. If the chief refused to compromise, Hawk would not defy his grandfather. Afer all, what did Hawk have to lose? In that case, the wily trapper would be rid of his nemesis. His absent gaze drifted to the shore where Bear-Claw stood, staring intently at him. Damn, the man was delighting in his predicament. When the other trappers' backs were turned, Aubrey wondered if Baudelair would stroll across the fallen tree to sever his lifeline. That possibility in mind, Aubrey wondered how long he would be bobbing on the river before Arakashe or Bear-Claw terminated his existence.

 
When Hawk rode into the clearing and prepared to ford the river at a shallow point, he spied Arakashe galloping toward him, a distraught expression on his face. A troubled frown etched Hawk's brow. Something was amiss. After his last night with Rozalyn, an idea had hatched in his mind, and he had appealed to the Crow chief for assistance. When Arakashe had agreed to intercept Aubrey's fleet and hold him hostage until Hawk arrived to save the furrier from disaster, the scheme had fallen neatly into place. Hawk could retrieve Rozalyn, the Crow would secure supplies which would sustain them, and Aubrey would think he had gotten off lucky.

 
Arakashe was to have accompanied Rozalyn to camp and to have awaited Hawk's arrival. But the chief was alone. Where was Rozalyn? He suddenly realized he should have explained his plan to her, but there had been no time. Hawk had not slept a wink that night, between making
 
the
 
arrangements with the Crow and
 
then requesting the aid of his fellow trappers.

 
"Where is Rozalyn?" Hawk asked when Arakashe drew his steed to a halt in front of him.

 
"She must have fled during the night," the chief explained. Then he frowned worriedly. "I thought Mitskapa would come to the river to attempt to free her father. She pleaded with me to show him mercy. Where could she have gone if not to the river?"