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Whispering Brook reached for Silver Birch's trembling hand as they were led further from their village. It was deathly quiet, the eerie moans of the dying, now silenced. Silver Birch clutched the infant to her heart, glancing back over her shoulder as though hoping to see her husband once more.
"Don't do that to yourself," Whispering Brook struggled to speak through her constricted throat, "our men won't be coming for us."
Finality. Death has a way of doing that.
Each step took them further away from everything they had ever known and to an unknown future.
"If they were going to kill us, they would have already done it, right?" A glimmer of hope filled the young woman's eyes as Silver Birch looked over at her sister-in-law.
"Most likely. Whatever happens, we will remain together. I promise I won't try to escape without you. We both know the baby will never make it if we try now. Let's be patient and bide our time. When the moment is right, we will run. Until then, let us not bring shame to our husbands' memory."
Silver Birch lowered her head. Even as a captive, Whispering Brook still exhibited the wisdom and dignity of a chief's wife. Of the two women, Whispering Brook appeared to have a stronger fortitude, her eyes, unlike Silver Birch's, still dry.
"The boys?"
This time, Whispering Brook looked away, but not before Silver Birch caught a glimpse of her friend's anguish.
"They must stay away. I fear it will not go as well for my sons. They have little value to the tribe whereas you and I are young and..." Whispering Brook didn't need to complete her sentence.
"No!" Silver Birch paled, holding the baby much too tight.
The thought of becoming another man’s wife from a tribe who had just murdered her husband turned Silver Birch’s blood cold.
Strong Oak cried out in protest drawing the attention of their captors.
The young man who'd spared their lives looked over, curiosity, not malice, in his dark eyes.
Long Knife walked on the right hand side of the women, still holding Gentle Doe's hand within his. The young girl pointed to the baby a moment before the warrior nodded, acknowledging whatever she had said before turning to his brawny father who was focused on something in the distance that no one else seemed to see.
"Which one will be your new wife?" Long Knife didn't bother to beat around the bush. "Both are beautiful."
It was simply the way things were. Raids replaced loved ones that had recently passed away.
Chief Raven didn't bother to look at his son. His wife was barely cold in the ground and he’d decided to hold off on finding a woman to replace her. She had been his great love and Chief Raven couldn’t imagine any woman would be able to take her place. The raid had not been to find him a new bride but to return Gentle Doe safely to her father and avenge Morning Dove's death. Instead, Gentle Doe was an orphan and would be returning to their tribe. It didn't matter to the chief which of the women he would take as his new bride. How could it? His heart had been buried with the mother of his son.
"I don't care." Chief Raven said after a long pause. "You choose the woman you wish to have as your new mother. Choose wisely, son. She will one day be the mother of a great chief."
Long Knife looked up at his father, surprise reflected in his eyes. It wasn't the way things were done.
"Are you certain? But you must desire her. What if I chose the one you don't find attractive? I would not wish you a miserable marriage."
A mischievous grin danced upon the chief's firm lips for just a moment.
"That won't be a problem. Both are lovely."
Gentle Doe squeezed her betrothed's fingers.
"Long Knife?"
"Yes?"
"The woman holding my brother is kind. I would like her to be my mother now that...well..."
"I understand," Long Knife was soothing as he stroked Gentle Doe’s fingers with his thumb. "You are correct in your observation. I can see how she cares for your brother. That woman will never be your true mother, but this way you will still remain siblings as well. Besides, you cannot be my sister, even by adoption. We are to be married as soon as you are grown."
Gentle Doe lowered her eyes, suddenly shy, but her hand still remained within Long Knife's larger one.
"My son is right," Chief Raven agreed. "You must not be siblings. Then it is settled. I will marry the other woman tonight."
The chief looked over at the slender woman who would be his bride before nightfall. She was so petite yet graceful, carrying herself with poise even though she was a captive facing an unknown future.
"Aquene." The chief sighed as they turned toward the river. "She will bring peace."
****
WHISPERING BROOK TOOK a deep, shuddering breath as she stood before the towering chief, his eyes a dark chestnut brown. The chief’s eyes were unreadable, masking any emotion he may be feeling.
The Iroquois woman swallowed, her throat constricted with pent-up emotion. What had she expected? For the chief to love her? Want her? He wouldn't be marrying her if he didn't need her. In that, she had value. It could have been worse. Chief Raven was exceptionally tall with a broad chest and...was the man responsible for her husband’s death. After all, he had led the raid that had taken everything Whispering Brook loved from her.
Whispering Brook's eyes trailed down her bridegroom's sinewy biceps. He was strong and would protect her yet he was also the enemy. When the time came for her to run, Whispering Brook hoped he wouldn't track her down. If he used that raw strength against her, she wouldn't stand a chance.
It wasn't the chief’s emotionless features that caused Whispering Brook’s heart to clench, or his strength that, if turned against her, would be fatal. No. She was once more marrying a chief - the man Whispering Brook held responsible for the death of her husband, her first and only love.
Strong Oak's cry broke into Whispering Brook's thoughts, bringing her back to the present. Not much longer. Soon, Strong Oak would survive their flight. When the time came, Whispering Brook wouldn't hesitate. She'd run far and fast. After all, her sons were waiting.
"Aquene," Chief Raven spoke, at last, reaching for her hand.
Taking a deep breath, Whispering Brook squared her shoulders, placing her slender hand in the chief's large one. Silver Birch, now Small Bird, and Aquene exchanged a meaningful look, both women knowing exactly what was coming next as their new husbands led them toward the furs.
For a moment, Aquene's fingers trembled. No, she needed to be strong. Small Bird needed her. They would get through this night together. In the morning, with their husbands satisfied and believing their brides had no intention of fleeing their new lives, they would begin to plan their escape. Until then, it was wise not to give the men reason to mistrust them.
Aquene focused on her boys somewhere out there in the snow waiting for her as Chief Raven lowered her onto the furs, his momentarily trembling fingers giving her the faintest glimpse that he, too, was struggling as he removed her white buckskin dress.
"Do not fear me," Chief Raven soothed, compassion filling his eyes as he looked down at his brave wife.
He could never love her, but Chief Raven would be good to her. After all, Aquene would raise his son. For Long Knife's sake, Chief Raven would try to forget about his wife buried at the edge of their encampment - at least for tonight.