Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) (28 page)

Chumani was thrilled by those discoveries, elated for her best friend,
and not surprised by their powerful effect upon Red Feather, who could
not seem to keep his glowing gaze off the other woman. She closed her
eyes for a moment and thanked Wakantanka for that gift and blessing.

That next morning, Nahemana came to their tepee to relate the
alarming dream he had experienced during the previous night: "I saw
the Old Woman Who Quills At The Edge Of The World; she was
alone. Her dog companion was gone, stolen, slain, or left of his own free will. That is a bad sign, micinksi and Dewdrops, for if he is dead
or fails to return to her side to unravel her day's quilling, our world as
we know it will soon end."

"Do not worry, Grandfather." Wind Dancer attempted to assure the
old man, "for it was only a dream, not a sacred vision to warn us of
danger. Perhaps you dreamed of a dog because I told you of the strange
creature Dewdrops saw in the forest during our return."

"It was a sign from the Great Spirit, micinksi, for the moon was full
and holds much magic when her face is bright. I fear for your safety."

"Do not be afraid or doubtful, Grandfather, for Wakantanka guides
and protects us. Perhaps He sends the Spirit Dog as a helper to us
during our tasks, for Cetan is injured and cannot go with us as planned."

Nahemana smiled. "Perhaps that is true. Perhaps I misread the message. Perhaps that is why he appeared to Dewdrops. Perhaps an evil
spirit showed me her camp while he was gone to raise fears and doubts.
I will seek another vision at the sacred mountain to give us answers."

Four suns later at dusk, Wind Dancer, Chumani, War Eagle, Red
Feather, and Zitkala lay pressed to the ground and concealed by tall
grass as they spied on a small band of Crow warriors at the edge of
their territory. They had left their horses secreted in a dense treeline
and wriggled their way closer to the scene where seven men sat around
a campfire, talking and laughing and wearing warpaint upon their faces,
a sign of their evil intent.

As one turned to retrieve something from behind him, Wind Dancer
and Chumani inhaled in astonishment at the same time then looked
at each other in shock. Here at last was the enemy who had led the
lethal raids against their two camps two winters past, the raids which
had taken the lives of their mates, sons, and others. At long last, their
target was within reach.

Wind Dancer's gaze narrowed as he studied the Crow warrior whose
face was painted half black and half red and displayed black coyote
tracks traveling atop the lighter shade. He clenched his jaw. Hatred and a hunger for revenge consumed him. "We must attack and slay them.
Their leader belongs to me. He is a dead man."

"They are seven and we are five, my brother," War Eagle reasoned
in a whisper. "They camp in the open, so we can not sneak up on
them. Their weapons are within reach. It is foolish to challenge such
forces who are prepared to retaliate swiftly. We must wait for them to
sleep."

"No, my brother; we must attack while my blood is hot for battle.
If we wait, others may come and their number would be too great to
challenge. We can defeat seven. I will not allow him to escape my knife
again. Prepare yourselves, for we attack soon."

"Speak to him, Dewdrops, for this peril is great," War Eagle urged.

"I cannot, for he thinks and acts as I do," she responded.

"Your hearts are too filled with bitterness to have clear minds." War
Eagle argued. "Do you not think it is strange they camp in the open?
Perhaps others hide in the trees and below the ravine beyond them and
they set a trap for us. Is that not the way of the Crow leader who brings
fire to your heart?"

"That is true, my brother, but they do not know we are nearby. Do
you think they set a snare with hopes we will ride upon them and fall
into it?" Wind Dancer reasoned. "No, they camp outside the cover of
the forest because their pride is too large, and they believe we are far
away preparing to leave for the Plains."

"Our bows are with our horses, my brother. We must fetch them
and send arrows into their camp and bodies before we rush out upon
them. If others hide nearby, our action will lure them into the open
and it will give us time to escape if their number is too large for us to
battle.

Wind Dancer considered his brother's words. They had left their
bows behind because crawling on one's belly was easier without bringing
them along. They had intended to scout the enemy camp, return for
their mounts, and attack on horseback. "If we return to our horses, our
presence will be seen. The wind no longer blows strong and moves the grasses to conceal us. We must fall upon them with our knives and take
them by surprise."

"Perhaps it is us who will be surprised, my brother." War Eagle did
not want to point out that two members of their party were women.
He had been told tales of their great prowess, but were they skilled and
strong enough to fight trained warriors in hand-to-hand combat? Too,
he could not understand why his older brother would risk endangering
his mate's life. And should not Red Feather want to protect Zitkala?
Yet, it would be rude and wrong to ask such questions, as it could
sound as if he was implying revenge was more important than his wife's
life. He had to trust his brother and do what he was told, for that was
their way.

As Wind Dancer looked over at War Eagle, Chumani's gaze widened
as her eyes caught a strange sight. "Be still and look there," she told
them.

As the two men's gazes followed the nod of her head, all five in their
group saw a huge dog whose thick fur and large eyes were so pale a
gray that they shone like silver in the brilliant rays of reflective sunlight.
He had seemed to appear as if by magic, as if Mother Earth had spewed
him forth from her fertile body. Though he made no sound, the swift
and agile animal raced forward, snatched the Crow leader's quiver of
arrows that was laying behind him, and rushed with lightning speed
into the dense forest near their hiding place. They heard the astonished
man shout at the animal, saw him leap to his feet and run after the
sneaky and daring thief.

"It is the Spirit Dog I saw in the forest many moons past." Chumani
whispered in awed. "He has come to help us defeat our enemies and
we must follow his head. He has summoned our target away from his
friends."

"Stay here while I trail and slay him," Wind Dancer commanded.
"Do not attack the others until I return and give the signal."

Since he was their leader, the other four knew his orders must be
obeyed. They remained low to the earth, still and silent, while Wind
Dancer wriggled backward toward the trees.

Chumani noted a strong breeze had returned to vigorously sway the
tall grass and wildflowers, cleverly masking her husband's retreat. Surely,
she concluded, the Creator and the forces of nature and the elements
were on their side today. Even so, she closed her eyes and prayed for
her beloved's safety. She heard the other six foes laugh and call out
to their friend, amused by the incident, and revealing his name as
Chaheechopes, meaning "Four Wolves." She glanced at Zitkala, who
sent her a smile of encouragement and then she looked at Red Feather
beside Zitkala, but his gaze was locked on their foes and a knife was
clutched in one hand as if ready to respond to any threat. She noticed,
too, that Red Feather's other hand was resting atop Zitkala's. A warm
glow traveled over her body to see that display of affection. Her gaze
returned to the six Apsaalooke who sat cross-legged around their campfire
and she focused her full attention upon them, eager for her husband's
safe return.

In the woods, Wind Dancer sneaked up behind the man and sneered,
"What prize do you seek on Oglala hunting grounds, suska?" As the
Crow whirled to face him, he taunted, "Why do you not shout for
your friends to come and save you from a warrior who stands high
above you in skills?"

"I need no help to slay one lowly Oglala boy. Your eyes trick you;
I am not slow or worthless. Send forth your death chant, for soon you
will walk the Ghost Trail with others of your kind."

"I know your face paint," Wind Dancer hissed. "You are the coward
who preys upon camps with women, children, and old ones while
warriors are away hunting. Do you fear to enter them when we are
there to battle against you?"

"I seek to kill all Lakotas, for Lakotas attacked my camp and took
the lives of my family. If boys are slain, they cannot become men. If
women are slain, they cannot bring forth more sons to follow their
fathers in battle. If old ones are slain, it steals the joy and spirit of their
families."

"It was not the Red Shields or the White Shields who killed your family, for we do not attack the innocents. We are true warriors; we
fight only men, as it was meant to be."

"You lie, son of Rising Bear."

Wind Dancer stared at the man. "You know me?"

"I know the faces of all enemies who will gain me large coups. I will
take your scalp and possessions to my camp to show others I took your
life."

"Then come and do so, Crow dog, if you have the courage and
prowess."

A fierce fight ensued as the two men struggled. They used knives,
fists, feet, and hurled bodies to thwart the opponent's efforts. They
seemed equally matched in ability, stamina, and strength. The conflict
went on and on until their energy was drained, sweat beaded on their
faces and torsos, and dust clung to their hair and garments.

But soon the Crow was taken off guard when the silver dog grabbed
at one legging and snatched back on it, pulling him off balance. He
stumbled backward and struck the ground, knocking the air from his
lungs and preventing a yell of help when his rival leapt upon his fallen
body, raised his armed hand, and buried a blade within his heart.

Wind Dancer stared down at his dead foe. He extracted his knife
and looked all around, but the strange dog was gone. Then he heard
another Crow shouting for his friend as a second Bird Warrior headed
his way.

Wind Dancer hurriedly and quietly dragged the body into the bushes
and concealed himself. As soon as he saw his new target and made sure
the man was alone, he charged at the Crow from behind, simultaneously
clamping a hand over his mouth to silence him and burying the knife
in the center of his foe's back. The Crow reflexively arched toward him
and tried to scream, then went limp in his captor's grasp.

Wind Dancer realized two were gone, leaving five in both groups
now. He started to retrieve their bows and quivers, but decided that
would take too long, as their horses were a good distance away in hiding;
and the other five Crow might be getting suspicious. He took a brief
time to search for the first Crow's quiver, but could not find it. He made his way back to the others and related his two clashes. "I think the
dog belongs to the Old Woman Who Quills," Wind Dancer concluded.
"When Grandfather saw him missing from her side and camp, it was
because he was being sent to help us slay our enemies and make peace
with our pasts. He vanished as the mist after the sun rises; he has
returned to her side and our world is safe. Now our sons have been
avenged, mitawin, and they can rest in happiness."

"It is good, mihigna, and my heart thanks you for that deed."

"Look," Zitkala whispered, "they go to seek their missing friends."

The hidden group peered through waving stalks of grass and dancing
wildflowers and saw the five Crow heading toward the forest with
weapons clutched in their hands. They heard one call out the names
of the two who had vanished earlier. It was obvious they were on full
alert for trouble, but Wind Dancer told his four companions he had
concealed the bodies in thick bushes and brushed away all signs on the
ground of their struggles.

"We will slip into the trees and await their approach. When they
walk between us, we will leap upon them and defeat them," Wind
Dancer began, then added other cunning details for their impending
assault.