The Cry of the Wolf Chapter 42

Meeting Strong Oak's eyes from across the room, Dark Star stood. He was, after all, technically her brother-in-law and, after all these months, she barely knew the young man.

Strong Oak looked up in surprise as she approached him, a myriad of emotions washing over his face before he quickly masked them once again, effectively placing a scowl where confusion had been but a moment before.

"Strong Oak?" Dark Star began tentatively, "I know we haven't spoken yet, but I wanted to say that I am sorry for what happened to you...for my sister choosing to leave. I truly wish she had stayed."

Eyes widening in disbelief, Strong Oak once again struggled to hide the onslaught of emotions that surged over him at Dark Star's words. It had been weeks since Jaira had left and life had continued. No one had noticed his feelings... What was he to say?

"It is done..."

Strong Oak's voice was a hoarse rumble, deep in his throat as he turned away.

"She might be my sister, but she made a huge mistake," Dark Star softly called after him as he retreated into the shadows. "Jaira could have known what love is if she had given you a chance."

"Your sister made her choice. She rejected my love."

Darkness enveloped the warrior as he stepped out of the longhouse, the cool evening breeze whipping his hair about his face.

Jaira.

A name he would rather not think of right now.

Dark Star wanted to follow the warrior into the darkness, to somehow soothe the sorrow he had revealed for a fleeting moment but thought better of it. It would likely be inappropriate for her to chase after a man who wasn't her husband. If only there was a way to comfort him or to reach her sister and let her know she had made an incredible mistake.

Jaira.

Had she even made it home safely? For the first time in months, Dark Star missed the convenience of emails.

****

Strong Oak moved silently through the thick brush, his brow furrowed. Everything had backfired and right now if anyone had any common sense they could see they were only grasping at straws.

"You went too far," he spoke as soon as he joined the others, "And now Brebeuf won't stop his insistent caterwauling."

"That could be good for us," the shaman pursed his lips, deep in thought, "Yes, I have known Chief Long Knife for a long time...he will not put up with this childish whining. I believe he is losing respect for that demon in disguise."

"You mean 'Peter'," Strong Oak muttered, grimacing as he emphasized the word, Peter. "Brebeuf and the rest of these black-robed priests have changed him..."

"I don't agree," the shaman challenged, "This is merely a phase...something new. Within him, Chief Long Knife's heart is strong. He will do what is best for the tribe..."

"How long will it take for him to come to his senses?" Black Bear shifted, his scowl, dark.

The shaman shrugged his shoulders as though undisturbed.

"That I cannot answer, but rest assured, we have not truly lost him. I suggest we play along to cast suspicion off us until the time is right to strike."

No one said a word, as though the silence were agreeing.

"And in the meantime?" Raven persisted, "What do we do in the meantime? Pretend to worship this new God?"

"No, no," the shaman stepped toward Raven, "We will deflect all suspicion away from us while we make plans. I for one will not surrender to this new way our chief is embracing, however, I know he is a good man and will do what is right for the tribe."

One of the Iroquois captives from their last raid stepped forward.

"They are confused because they do not know who is responsible. The murder looks both Iroquois and Wyandotte..."

The shaman smiled, "Yes, I heard. Well done! I would not have thought of that little trick myself but it has worked to our advantage."

"Thunder Cloud did not deserve to die for this quarrel," Strong Oak pointed out.

The shaman narrowed his eyes as he looked at the warrior before him.

"There you are getting all soft again. Has it been too long since you have been on the warpath, my friend?"

Strong Oak said nothing, simply dropping his gaze, thankful when the shaman continued.

"We needed to send a clear message to Chief Long Knife and I believe we have succeeded. He is troubled and I sense distrust between him and the French. What more could we ask for?"

Stepping away, Strong Oak called over his shoulder, "I will do as you have suggested, but when the time comes, promise the women and children will be spared."

Raven scowled but nodded.

"You have my word."

"And the chief...Peter...he is a good man."

"At this rate, we might as well let the entire tribe live!" Raven spat, then softened. "Yes, I know he is a good chief, better than many..."

"Promise!"

Strong Oak grew angry. Why he cared so much startled even him.

"I won't make promises I cannot keep," Raven ended the conversation by walking away from the small gathering first.

"If you lay a hand on my chief, you will be the first to die."

Strong Oak's blazing eyes left no doubt he would follow through.

There was nothing more to do now than to wait. Walking back to the encampment, Strong Oak's chest tightened with the now all too familiar sensation of guilt.