The Cry of the Wolf Chapter 48

A hand muffled her scream as Jaira was lifted from the ground and pinned to an iron-hard chest.

Enraged and emboldened after the sudden death of her husband, with nothing to lose, Jaria bit down hard at the hand covering her mouth, her terrified sea-green eyes searching for Eagle.

"Welcome home, wife," warm breath breathed against her temple.

Jaira twisted in her captor's arms, coming face to face with Strong Oak.

Her mouth opened to scream, but his kiss silenced her.

"Home..."

Her thoughts echoed Strong Oak's words as he made her forget everything else.

A glint of something she couldn't recognize flashed in his eyes as he raised his head, leaving her with tender lips and the memory of his passionate kiss.

Striding back into the forest he carried her, Eagle at his side. Jaira looked at Eagle then back up at Strong Oak, her mouth opening and closing, for once speechless.

The Englishmen were left far behind, forgotten as the forest closed behind them.

"But...but the tribe that was here..." Jaira finally managed to speak, holding onto Strong Oak's shoulders as he carried her.

"The Wyandotte Nation is extinct," he replied, a sorrowful shadow dancing in his dark eyes, "They are no more."

****

The Brandt family was determined to learn the language and the Mohawk's way of life. Their eagerness was commendable and brought delight to the natives who were only too happy to help the pale faces adapt to their way of life.

Kajirowirago crouched near the chief watching his son playing with the other children, a smile tugging on his lips. He had wasted so many years missing out on his children. Fighting a war that in the end didn't matter, he could never reclaim those years. He didn't deserve this second chance and, with that knowledge, was determined not to squander even a moment.

Chief Black Bear adjusted his weight.

"We are part of a larger nation, the Iroquois Nation. We work together, assist each other, and will not make important decisions before meeting with the other tribes. We have learned the hard way that we survive best when we are banded together. Now, we strike fear in the hearts of our enemies."

"Your enemies? Who are they?"

"Not mine in particular, but as a nation, our enemies are the French and Wyandotte. We chose to become allies of the English and they despise the French. Their enemies have become our enemies. We fight together. The Wyandotte..." His voice trailed as his thoughts wandered, "I have heard their chief is a Believer."

"A Believer? As in a Christian?"

"Yes."

"Well isn't that something!"

The chief shook his head, not at all as surprised.

"The French have been determined to convert them and have met with success from what my spies have told me."

"Spies?"

Chief Black Bear turned to look at the blond man at his elbow. George really knew nothing but was an eager learner.

"Chief Long Knife took some of our men and women captive months ago. They have been forced to become Wyandotte but their hearts are still loyal to our nation. At any given moment they can revolt. In fact, I assume it will be much sooner than later. Their chief has grown weak since he embraced Christianity but I hear he is a good man. A great man in fact. If the situation were different, I believe we would have been good friends. There is a plan..."

"Are you involved in this?" Kajirowirago's eyebrows shot up.

"No...but neither am I against it. The French will be taken care of. I want no part in it. Like Chief Long Knife, I have believed in Jesus since James shared the Gospel with our tribe. I will not see harm come to their chief and will not kill or torture any of the French. This I will not partake in. If my nation attacks the Wyandotte, I plan to step in and help their chief although it will cost me."

"Who else knows about this?" Kajirowirago lowered his voice to barely a whisper.

"The men that have been taken by the Wyandotte...and one of their warriors, Strong Oak. He is a man of his word and has kept silent about these plans. If anyone should find out on either side before it is time..."

"I am overjoyed to know you are a Believer as well and if I can be of help when the time comes, I gladly offer you my services."

"I will remember your offer..."

Kajirowirago smiled. The chief was his brother! His brother in Christ. It was more than he could have dreamed of.

****

Before they could put their plan in motion, the Angel of Death decided to pay a visit.

The tribe suffered a terrible blow as death's shadow moved from bed to bed and longhouse to longhouse.

Anna lay on furs, sweat trickling down her forehead.

"It's my time," she wheezed, her eyes glazed.

"Oh, Anna no! You must fight this! I cannot lose you too!" Gretjen wept.

Kajirowirago paced at her side, his lips moving in silent prayer.

"Jesus is waiting for me," her chest rattled.

Sobs broke Gretjen's voice, "Give my parents a kiss for me."

She held Anna's hand in hers until it grew limp, then rising from beside the cot, she wrapped her arms around her husband, comforting him in his grief.

The angel of death kissed each forehead, leaving a raging fever in its wake. Death hung in the air, a solemn reminder that life is short.