Spirit Walk_ Old Wounds (Book 1) - Christie Golden [78]
She swallowed hard. “Sekaya has not forgotten.” Summoning her boldness, she added, “In fact…”
She snaked her arms around his neck and brought his mouth to hers. And the kiss was just as sweet and powerful as it had been over twenty years ago. They kissed for a long time, until a fish flopped out from the net and landed directly on Blue Water Dreamer’s feet. He jerked away, and Sekaya laughed. He blushed, then laughed too.
When their mirth had subsided, Blue Water Dreamer took her hands in his, running his thumbs over the work-roughened surface with a tenderness that made her tremble.
“Sekaya, daughter of Kolopak,” he said quietly, “tell this man what offering would best please your father. This man,” he said, tapping his chest, “would ask for the hand of Kolopak’s only daughter in the way that most honors her tradition.”
She couldn’t breathe. She stared at him, and his face fell. He looked down, and suddenly she realized what he thought—that she was refusing him. No! Oh, no. Sekaya placed her hands on his cheeks and turned his face back up to hers, and his dark eyes brightened as he saw the joy in her face.
So she taught him the traditional chant of Asking, and told him that he needed to fashion a headdress for them both, and to bring the headdresses to Kolopak as evening fell the following night. And then she kissed him again. And again.
But Blue Water Dreamer did not come to Kolopak’s hut as he said he would.
Sekaya and Kolopak learned the next day that he had never returned from a second “Cardassian experiment.”
Chakotay’s skin erupted in gooseflesh. “You told me Blue Water Boy joined the Maquis,” he said. “That he died resisting the Cardassians.”
“After a fashion, he did,” Sekaya said. The pain was not fresh, yet grief sat plainly atop her beautiful, strong features. “He was the first to fall in this conflict. We considered him a warrior, dying for the cause as surely as his ancestors died with bullets in their chests, fighting to protect their lands. Blue Water Dreamer went to the Cardassians willingly, to keep the peace, to honor the land he loved. To buy a future…with me.”
She wiped at her eyes. “Damn. I thought I wouldn’t cry telling you this.”
“It’s all right, Sekky.” His own eyes were wet. He, too, had loved Blue Water Boy; the Lakota was the brother Chakotay had never had.
Sekaya pulled her long, thick hair to one side and parted the shiny black mass with her fingers. Chakotay could see a zigzag of raised pale flesh. He gasped softly.
“What—” And then he knew.
“We chose to keep the scars,” she said. “War wounds. Evidence of our victory over our oppressors. It was after Blue Water Dreamer’s death that Father joined with those who would rebel. We hosted Maquis on our world; kept them hidden; kept them safe. We committed acts of sabotage, but we chose not to take lives. We were not foolish enough for that. The Cardassian vengeance would be swift and terrible if they had a blood debt to repay.”
“Sekaya,” said Chakotay, softly, shaking his head, filled with a new sense of wonder and respect for his sister, “you amazing woman…why aren’t you dead?”
She laughed harshly, and inwardly Chakotay shrank from the sound.
“Once the war broke out…the Cardassians just left. I guess their resources were needed elsewhere. They never came back, but they had done enough damage. Sixteen people either died or disappeared because of their experiments, and several dozen were killed while they were with the Maquis.”
They were nearing the planet. Despite his keen desire to get a good look at the chamozi, Chakotay didn’t want to hurry their approach. His mind was reeling from all Sekaya had told him.
His people had not been left alone by the Cardassians. Far from it. They had been taken and experimented on like laboratory animals from the old days of Earth. They’d been murdered for their cooperation, and had risen to fight their oppressors as their ancestors had.
And Chakotay had known nothing of this. Nothing.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said, his voice harsh with