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tent, she
teetered on her feet. He made to remove the hide from her. But she stayed his
hand. “Tell me about that woman.”
    Bull Elk glanced at White Hawk, who said a few things to him
in Comanche.
    “My brother has told you true, my moon. She is the second
wife to Knows Brown Bear, the brave I killed yesterday for his disrespect to
you. She shows her grief for his loss. He deserves her tears. It is her duty to
show them to us.”
    “But cutting her hair? And hurting herself with that knife?
Is that her duty too?”
    He nodded. “She lived with him for many years. She must do
this. She gave him no children so she must show her grief for her failure too.
His father and mother will demand she show great agony at his loss.” He shot a
hard look at White Hawk. “In many ways.”
    Fancy stilled, clutching the hide to herself to ward off the
sudden chill of his last words. “What must she do?”
    “Continue to cry.”
    “And hurt herself?”
    He nodded again, more gravely this time.
    “And what else?” Fancy persisted.
    “The final choice is for Knows Brown Bear’s father.”
    Fancy did not like the sound of that. “What final choice?”
    Bull Elk’s sad umber eyes examined Fancy. “The woman was a
second wife. She must do as she is told. That is all you must know.”
    Fancy shrank from his touch. “You must be honest with me,
Bull Elk. I am no child.”
    He raised his chin, his gaze cool, his stance wide and
forbidding, his demeanor that of a revered chief of the noble Antelope tribe
who brooked no ridicule. “You are my wife. My only wife. My honor and my pride.
You are beautiful and wise. As you learn me and my people, you will see that I
require respect and obedience. I will tell you all you must know, my moon. But
for now, you need not fill your mind with that outside.” He waved a hand toward
the center of the camp. “Now let go of that hide. I will see your naked body.”
    Once more, Fancy had proof she was a captive. His prisoner.
And though he told her she was his wife, she understood in his words and deeds
that she was not his equal. Just as the squaw in the center of the camp was not
Knows Brown Bear’s equal, neither was Fancy of any importance compared to the
might of Patuwa kum , fearsome leader of the south plains Comanche.
    Resistance was futile. To dare would gain her nothing. Not
now, at any rate. Perhaps tomorrow. Or the day afterward.
    And in the meantime, she could not deny that she was
captivated by Bull Elk’s desire for her. Even before he had seized her, she had
admired his looks. And in some secret part of her body, she had desired him.
She was no nun. Though her mother had often spoken of that as a possibility for
any one of her three daughters, Fancy had known life without a man’s arms
around her was not for her. From the time she was twelve and Collette had
described to her how to please herself by stroking her nether parts and making
herself deliciously warm and wet inside, Fancy had yearned for a man to do that
to her. She had even wondered what it might be like to sample more than one
man’s loving, even mentioning it to Collette, who applauded like a giddy girl.
Now here she was, faced with that very possibility, though not in circumstances
that were the best. Yes, Fancy had liked the looks of Bull Elk. Young and
virile, handsome too, he was a rare specimen of manhood to take between her
legs. She shivered now in recognition of her need for him. Had he known how she
desired him? Had he felt her attraction to him? Was this abduction her fault?
    She ran a hand over her forehead. Blame did not matter. Her
own past did not matter. The future did.
    As Bull Elk strode toward her, his lips curving in a dulcet
smile, she cared less about tomorrow and more about the next minutes with him.
    “I would see all of you, my moon.”
    His statement, she knew, was an order. To comply with his
demands was not a problem. Because he was kind and noble. Because he desired
her as much, maybe