CAPTIVE

Chapter One

I had stayed in the small dim round house since the war party left days earlier. I told myself that I was doing my duties as the woman of the lodge, sweeping the loose remnants of debris out of the arched doorway with vengeance, mending his spare breeches with little thought, tending the fire, always tending the fire so that the façade of safety created by the small leather enclosure would be well warmed when he returned. In truth, it was all a distraction from the painful nagging thoughts coursing through my mind. What if he didn't return? What if he was badly wounded? What if he was captured? What would happen to me then? I was under no illusion by this time that he was my one and only protector. Without him I would fall prey to those who eyed me with hostility every time I left the sanctity of his house, every time I was out of reach of him. And there were plenty to choose from. Dog Tooth would love nothing more than to club me to death. Blue Flower would either enthusiastically cheer on Dog Tooth or gouge out my eyes herself and yet, if the elders could prevent such bodily harm as the residents of their own village wanted to inflict upon me, would they risk keeping me here or sell me, send me off to be someone else's problem? I ran my hands down the length of soft cloth that hung over my thighs trying to dry the constant wetness that covered them. Then, unexpectedly I was pacing, back and forth across the packed dirt floor of the small hovel. Maybe I could run? The village was quiet the others were worried about the war party too. I punched my head out of the hide flap door and looked cautiously up and down the wide alley of long houses that created the Indian village. No one was about. My heart leapt wildly, maybe I could escape. If I could make it to the paddock, if I could get to one of the horses, then I could rely on its speed to carry me quickly, far away, and who would follow? The women? The elders? No, surely they would let me go. They would wait until the war party returned and then send trackers after me. And then what? What would they do when they found me? The flap jerked down with a solid thump against the oak sapling jamb as I stepped back inside. They would surely kill me when they found me and they would find me. I had no idea where I was. I had been walked for days upon capture. Was I still even in the United States? A heavy sigh escaped as I sank down on the fur skins covering the corn husk mattress, the sting of salty tears welling in my eyes. Damn you Finn! Damn you!

I had pushed thoughts of Finn out of my mind since my capture. My sole thought had been of survival. Whatever it took, I would survive. Finn would find me, I was sure of that. But he hadn't. No one had come. My body started to convulse with the realization that Finn didn't know where I was. How could he possibly find me? We had been taken to a large camp. Several different villages had taken part in the raid. After a day though, the camp was struck and the different bands left out separately. There had been how many? I wasn't sure but I knew it was at least half a dozen and how long had we walked after that? Four, five days? If the other bands had walked as far it would take Finn months to track them all. How could he do that himself? What if he had been killed trying? Or worse, captured like me? I had come to keep him safe. The tears were now pouring down my cheeks, my chest hitched and throbbed as the cries caught in my throat. Had I killed him again? I pulled my knees into my chest and buried my head between them. No, maybe he thought me dead. That would be good. I had seen the destruction after the attack. Some of the dead were unrecognizable. Maybe he thought I was one of those. Please God, please let him think me dead, please don't let him try to find me. And what if he did? Red Horse had claimed me and I believed he would fight to keep me, to the death? from anyone he perceived a threat, even Finn. What if I could explain to him that Finn was my husband? What if I could make him understand that I belonged to him first? Red Horse was my protector after all. He hadn't hurt me, yet. He hadn't forced himself on me or raised a hand to me. He could be reasoned with, maybe. I felt my heart lighten at the thought, but the feeling was immediately and thoroughly squelched. They wouldn't let Finn in. He wouldn't get beyond the village perimeter. The men would kill him and ask no questions. The Iroquois had been thoroughly seduced by the British and any other whites were not tolerated except as captives. Captive. If Finn came alone, he would be easy prey. Would they kill him or capture him? Oh God, please let Finn believe me dead.