Authors: Janelle Taylor
As Wind Dancer observed, great love and pride filled his heart for his brother. He knew that if anything happened to him and his father, War Eagle would make a good chief and leader. All he had to hope for was his brother’s survival and for him to also meet a woman well matched to him. But he worried, could Wahcawi be that woman? He liked and respected her and was grateful to her for all she had done for his family and people, but could she make a good chief’s wife, a good Red Shield?
As Caroline watched the ritual, her gaze was constantly drawn to War Eagle, whose attention seemed entirely centered on the action. He looked mysterious and appealing with his body painted in various vivid colors. Surely those depicted forces were no more powerful than he was, at least where she was concerned. He was such a strong, virile, handsome, and honorable man that her heart pounded with love and desire, and it was difficult to keep focused on the stirring event. She was glad that no one, except Runs Fast, from his glare earlier, objected to her presence near Macha and Chumani. She watched as War Eagle rapidly fired many arrows upward, suspending them all in midair before the first one plummeted to the ground. She feared her heart
would stop when he stood motionless as the sharp arrowheads plunged toward him and stuck up straight in the earth within a few feet of him. She saw him hurl lances through willow circles of varying sizes and at different distances, succeeding every time. She saw him fling war clubs at targets, striking each appointed spot on his goal. It was evident to her that he possessed superior skills with all weapons. There was no doubt in her mind that he was an elite warrior, protector, and hunter. A surge of pride filled her body and warmed her very soul.
After the demands were met, everyone observed as their war chief’s son strung his new bow, one that was longer and heavier than a regular hunting weapon and exposed a lance point on the top end. It now would be the man’s duty to help bring about peace for his band and to fight fiercely for it in times of war. He was presented with a hanger, a staff for supporting the sacred object when not in use, as it must not lie upon the ground or be propped against anything that might drain or taint its special powers.
With Two Feathers’ replacement chosen, the Sacred Bow foursome was once again complete. The other members—four club bearers and four staff carriers—joined their society brothers in a ceremonial dance and chant.
Caroline watched War Eagle step and whirl in time to the beating of the kettledrum. Despite the mild weather, she saw perspiration glistening on his face and body. At times, his eyes were closed as if in reverence of the ceremony. During swift twirls and leaps, his long ebony hair seemingly performed a dance of its own. He had great strength and agility in his muscled legs. He was an awesome sight.
Afterward, the four reentered the
initipi
for a final purification rite where their bodies were washed clean of paints and were rubbed with sweet and sage grasses in symbolic gesture to the land that fed the buffalo.
Caroline returned to Cloud Chaser’s tepee to do daily
chores with Macha, as both talked about the woman’s absent husband and wondered what he was doing at that moment.
On the morning of that same day, Cloud Chaser rode behind the seemingly endless rows of well-armed soldiers as they left Fort Laramie, with David positioned somewhere amidst them. To the rear of the troops were supply wagons and cannon bearers. He hoped his people had moved their camp and it was far from Harney’s path. He prayed the general would not ride into the sacred hills in search of villages. If The Butcher did so, he would gallop ahead with a warning. If only there were some way he could disable the cannons, but there was none to his knowledge. At least the ones War Eagle had dumped into the Badlands could not be used against them or their allies.
Soon, my beloved wife, I will be at your side again.
As Caroline gathered scrub wood while Macha washed garments in the lake with other women, she halted and stiffened as she heard a strange noise that sounded like the deepthroat purring—no, rumbling—of a large cat. Using caution, she straightened at a near snail’s pace and looked beyond her. She froze and her blue gaze widened as she sighted a large and sleek mountain lion poised on a rock ledge about twenty-five feet beyond her. His golden eyes were fastened on her, his ears were erect, his whiskers were drawn back, and his long tail was swaying slightly as if in anticipation and suspense. His stance—bent knees—implied he was ready to spring forward at any given moment. Why he hesitated there, she did not know, unless he enjoyed stalking and intimidating his prey. If she screamed for help or turned and fled, it would bound off the ledge, pursue, and attack her. She had no doubt she could not outrun the tawny beast. Yet,
Caroline decided she could not stand there and stare it down, and it probably would not lose interest in her and leave. With her hand on the knife handle at her waist, she began to take short and slow steps backward. Then, she heard a low voice behind her tell her to stop, to remain still and quiet, a voice she knew well. Her beloved’s. Now she understood why the creature had delayed his attack, as a threat to his success and survival was close by.
War Eagle eased up beside Caroline, relieved he had come looking for her to steal a few words in secret. Upon his stealthy approach, he had heard the animal’s throaty sounds and sighted it on the ledge, watching his love, its swaying tail revealing its intent to leap at her soon. When he had stepped from behind the large pine, he knew the beast also sighted him, though it did not flee, just studied him. He had readied an arrow in his bow before exposing his presence. He was proud and happy that Caroline had not panicked, screamed, or run, or been startled by his arrival. He knew the sleek, powerful, and swift puma could have overtaken her with ease. Even if it had not slain her, its slashing claws could have injured her badly. Since there was an abundance of game in the area and pumas did not usually attack people, he wondered why this one was tempted to do so. He hated to slay the majestic animal, but it could be a threat to children playing or women working nearby on another day.
War Eagle took aim on the creature’s golden chest and released his feathered shaft. The arrow’s flight was true, and upon its impact, the beast staggered, tumbling off the precipice with a heavy thud. In the blink of an eye, another arrow was sent into its body, striking its heart. A short time later, it lay still. He hurried forward and knelt to make certain the animal was dead, and wondered why it had not let out a piercing scream upon its first wound or fall. He was glad it had not, as that sound could have carried to camp.
War Eagle looked up from his position as Caroline joined
him. She was staring at the puma with wide eyes, her face pale, and her body trembling. He stood and said, “You safe, Kawa Cante.”
Caroline almost flung herself against his hard body, her arms banding his waist and her cheek pressed to his chest. “I was so afraid. You saved my life,” she murmured in English, just as he had done. “Thank you, Wanbli.”
He grasped her chin and lifted her head so he could gaze into her blue eyes. “Pain would fill me if you were harmed or slain,” he said in Lakota.
“Pain would fill me if you were harmed or slain,” she echoed.
Just as it would if you chose another woman to marry.
“It is good our feelings match, for we are close. I feared it would not be so for the one who captured you and keeps you from your people.”
Do our feelings truly match, my love, or do I misread your meaning?
“I am safe and happy with the Red Shields. That would not be true among my people, for many do evil things to yours in past seasons and during this one. I am sorry that is true, Wanbli, for it brings shame and sadness to me.”
“It must not do so, Wahcawi, for you are good and kind. Will you hate and scorn us when we are forced to battle with your people?”
“No, for you cannot yield to their wicked demands. To protect your people and land, you must seek peace if it is possible. If it is not, you must fight for them. But I pray at least a truce can come between the two sides.”
“That is for War Chief Harney to make happen, for he is the one who attacks even those who do not want to battle him.”
“You said my brother was sending a message to the white leaders far away. I pray David’s words will touch their hearts and change their plans. I fear war will come one day, but I hope it does not come for a long time.” She saw him nod in agreement. “I watched you in the Sacred Bow ritual. You
have many skills and much prowess. Fear leapt into my heart when you stood beneath the rain of arrows. You found victory in every challenge.”
“Those deeds were to prove Bent Bow is worthy of his new rank and to prove that Swift Otter, Broken Arrow, and I remain worthy to keep ours, for Sacred Bow Carriers lead in big battles and are last to leave a fight.”
With Harney on the move and with fierce war perhaps imminent, that reminder alarmed Caroline. “Does a Sacred Bow Carrier ever …”—how to explain
retire?
—”give up his rank?”
“Wind Dancer did so when he became a Shirt Wearer and to guard his life, for he will become our next chief. Others have done so when their seasons on Mother Earth were many and their skills weakened. There is no shame in doing so, but few give up that rank until they must.”
An idea entered Caroline’s mind and she shared it with War Eagle. “Do you know which path Harney will ride into your territory?”
“He has many wagons and rolling thundersticks. There is an old trail between the two forts that fur traders used. We think he will travel it.”
She saw him eyeing her strangely at her odd query and abrupt change of subject. “If you send out pairs of scouts and place them at different locations between the camp and trail, one can watch for Harney’s approach while the other carries a message to the next man who carries it to the next until it reaches our camp. That will tell you where he is and rides next.”
War Eagle grinned in pleasure. “Your plan is good and cunning. I will tell Father and we will use it when the sun rises again.” His gaze roamed over her lovely features, her expression and mood now calm with the danger past. He lifted one hand and caressed her soft cheek, and saw it suffuse with color to almost match that of the sunset. He felt her hands flatten against his lower back, and saw her swallow as
her gaze was bound to his. He could not stop himself from lowering his head and sealing their mouths in that muchneeded contact.
Caroline responded with eagerness and joy as the first tender kiss gradually fused into a near-feverish one as their smoldering passions were kindled into roaring flames of desire. Her fingers pressed into the firm flesh of his back as she urged him closer to her body, and she felt his embrace tighten, the bow release from his grasp to free his hands. Her heart sang merrily and her wits were dazed by his enchanting presence and stimulating touch, his irresistible reaching out to and for her.
A muffled groan escaped War Eagle’s throat as his mouth shifted to place kisses on her face and neck. He was elated and enthralled by the way she surrendered to his enticements and how she coaxed him for more. He had no doubt she was the perfect woman for him, that he loved and desired only her as a woman. He could imagine the ecstasy he would obtain from a complete mating with her. Gone were any doubts of her feelings for him and any suspicions that she had been drawn to Red Wolf. The Great Spirit knew they were well matched and He would bond them together soon.
Caroline was thrilled by the way War Eagle caressed and kissed her, as she sensed the depth and honesty of his emotions. She was convinced he wanted her as his woman, and his only delay in revealing his goal to her and others was in waiting until he removed any obstacles between them. If making love was all he wanted from her, she reasoned, he could have taken her or tricked her into submission before now. He must love her and want to join—
War Eagle and Caroline jerked apart as Macha hurried forward and whispered, “Others walk this way to hunt. You must part before they come.”
Caroline stared at her smiling and amused friend who had come to warn them of impending intrusion. “Thank you, Dawn.”
“I must talk fast. After the passings of five suns, the moon’s face will be dark. You can sneak to your brother’s tepee and visit with her without others seeing and knowing. Is that good?” she asked him.
War Eagle grinned and nodded. “It is good and kind, Dawn. Take Wahcawi with you. I must skin the creature that tried to attack her,” he said as he motioned to the mountain lion. “Go quickly, for I hear voices.”
Caroline and Macha rushed into the concealment of trees and rocks as they took a roundabout way back to camp, avoiding the three hunters who would soon encounter War Eagle as he labored with the golden creature.
Inside Cloud Chaser’s tepee, Caroline asked, “How did you know we were in the forest together?”
“I saw War Eagle walk the same path you had taken. I looked around and made sure no one had seen him, then entered the edge of the woods and watched for others to come that way. When I sighted hunters walking nearby, I came to find you.”
“How did you know we would be … would need to be warned?”
Macha laughed softly. “I believe much love and desire lives within Wahcawi and Wanbli. I reasoned that those feelings would break free when you were alone. After Cloud Chaser’s return to us, we were drawn together as you are this season. Before he became a Red Shield again, it was forbidden for us to reach out to each other, but our love and needs could not be denied. We sneaked meetings in the forest to speak and kiss, and Hanmani stood guard for us. That is what I do for you.”
“You are a good friend, Dawn, and I thank you. I love him and I want to join to him, to live among the Red Shields. I pray that will happen.”
“Do not worry or fear, Wahcawi. I believe the sun will rise.”
* * *
Six nights later, Caroline sat on her buffalo mat with War Eagle beside her, their thighs touching and their fingers interlocked, just as their adoring gazes were. She wished they had total privacy, but that was impossible for now. Macha sat on her sleeping mat on the opposite side of the tepee, her back to them as she hummed softly to Casmu as if trying not to overhear their softly spoken words. The tepee flap was laced, so no one would disturb them, unless trouble struck. A small fire burned in the center of the cozy abode, warming and lighting its confines, the smoke drifting upward to escape through the apex opening.