The Cry of the Wolf Chapter 24

Jaira plunged her hands into the dirty, tepid water before rubbing homemade lye soap over the white shirt she held in her hand. At least it had been white long ago, a brown stain on the collar and patches betraying its age. Jaira prided herself on her hard work and thriftiness.

"Do you think our husbands will return today? It's been mighty long since they left to squash that uprising..." Elizabeth didn't need to finish her sentence.

"I don't know, but I swore I heard a warcry last night on the other side of the wall. They're waiting for us, I just know it!" Jaira's anxiety rose as she described an almost certain attack.

"No, I don't think anyone would be foolish enough to try to make it past the Iroquois. It is a good thing we made an alliance with them, that's what! But you're right, I'll feel safer when John returns."

Jaira wasn't in a rush for William to return. He was an insolent, withdrawn man. At least, that is how he behaved when they were alone. In front of others, he was as charming as could be, never revealing his true colors. Jaira's thoughts were a tangled mess. If he never returned, she would finally be free.

"Have mercy," she quickly repented, hoping God would overlook that small slip-up.

She tried to push the thought from her mind. If William never returned, she would be finally free to marry one of the soldiers who guarded the fort. A blonde, a redhead, it really wouldn't matter. Just maybe, for the first time in forever, she would be reminded what love was.

Smoke seeped beneath the walls of the fort, a distraction. Attention on the fire igniting the hewn logs, they did not notice the warriors climbing the barrier until it was too late. Shrill war cries filled the air a moment before those that had remained behind at the fort were taken captive, and the wooden defense burned to the ground.

Muffling the screams of the captive women with muscled hands, they dragged their plunder to the river where the canoes bobbed gently on the water.

Chief Long Knife stood at the front of his canoe. He had not taken any captives, watching as his men claimed pale faces and a few Iroquois to replace those that cholera had taken from them. Appeased, they headed home, turning south to avoid any Iroquois on their way. Once these captives had been adopted into the tribe, they would be ready to defend themselves. Until then... silence.

Strong Oak removed his hand from Jaira's mouth. His wife had died just two weeks earlier. His chief and Falcon were happy with their pale women. He avoided the fierce stare of the Iroquois woman his brother had caught. No, he'd settle with the green-eyed woman. He was in no frame of mind to endure a fight. There was something in Jaira's eyes that he understood. She wouldn't fight her fate, he could bet on it.

****

Returning home, the Wyandotte gathered relieved to see their men return safely. Clearly, the raid had been successful.

Small Bird smiled, nudging the women forward, "You will have sisters now. It is our way of bringing into our tribe those who will take the place of the ones we lost. That is why you are here..."

Adelaide had never thought to ask that question…

"The Iroquois attacked us, taking all the young women and children.

Our men raided your town to replace those they had lost..."

Adelaide's eyes narrowed. Had Chief Long Knife been married? She was his replacement wife? A pang of hurt whispered at her heart, not for his loss, but that he had once loved another.

"Will you join us?" Maggie's mother-in-law passed out sharp sticks, forgetting at that moment Maggie still had not forgotten what her first husband had endured. It was bad timing.

"Of course not! Why would you want to hurt these men?" Maggie's cheeks flushed as her temper rose.

"Their spirits must be broken if they are to be part of our tribe. We cannot risk them rising against us," Small Bird shrugged, but seeing the pain in her daughter-in-law's eyes, she held back, not joining with those who were forming a gauntlet.

Chief Long Knife did not notice, striding to the end of the line. He didn't raise a war club or a stick, his eyes narrowing as he fingered his knife. He knew what was necessary. None of these men must ever attack them. They couldn't risk having an enemy in their midst.

Jaira closed her eyes in horror as one after another, the men she knew who had been left behind to man the fort were forced to run the gauntlet, beaten until they were bloodied and broken. Then, one by one, the chief sliced their fingers. Those that howled in pain were scalped, their carcasses cast to the side for now.

Maggie bit back tears as the stack of bodies piled up.

"Only the brave may become Wyandotte," Small Bird explained.

Cowardice would get them killed.

Adelaide turned her head, vomiting at the sight. Small Bird clucked her tongue. They may speak the language, but their fortitude was weak. Leading Adelaide and her friend away from the sight, the women returned to their children within the longhouse. Chief Long Knife would regret his actions tonight, Adelaide promised.