White Wind (23 page)

“And if you cannot?” Red Fox asked sadly. He watched Wild-Flower turn and pace.

“Then we shall run away together. If my grandfather could do it, then so shall I.”

“No, Wild-Flower. That would cause war between our tribes again. Come, we will talk no more of this.”

Hand in hand, the two lovers strolled slowly toward the village in silence. Parting, each entered from a separate direction, hidden by the black shadows of night.

Blackness for evil. White for goodness. Swirling, tangling, like some primordial being, the two forces twisted together. With agonizing slowness, their colors began to separate and take on form. The billowing darkness condensed into the shape of a huge distorted man. Black surrounded him, came forth from him, consumed him and threatened the figure of a woman in white. The whiteness surrounding her began to fade, engulfed by the evil spirit.

In her dream-state, the nightmare, the future, seemed so real. The terror of the woman was so frightening that a scream lodged in the throat of Seeing Eye. Desperately, she opened her eyes. Beads of sweat lined her forehead as she made an effort to escape the nightmarish vision. With shaking hands, she first wiped her damp forehead, then wiped the tears still in her eyes from the haunting dream. She shook her head helplessly. There were times when she resented her gift of sight, times when it
became a burden. There was nothing she could do to prevent the events forecast by her dream from coming true.

She could only pray that the spirits would watch over the girl and keep her from lasting harm.

Golden Eagle stood next to Red Fox to see Wild-Flower and her brother off the next morning. He glanced sideways at Red Fox. As usual, his friend looked to be relaxed, showing no emotion, just another warrior gathered to watch the important guests take their leave. No one looking at him would guess his true feelings.

But Golden Eagle knew his friend well. He spotted the rapid eye movements that followed Wild-Flower’s every move as Red Fox held his hands clenched tightly behind his back. Only Golden Eagle and perhaps Wild-Flower were aware that there had been no farewell salute from Red Fox.

Golden Eagle rolled his shoulders and tipped his head to the serene blue above, seeking courage to confront his father. When the time was right, he would tell Hawk Eyes that he would not marry Wild-Flower.

Turning, the two warriors began to talk of other pressing matters. As was the way with true warriors, they pushed their problems of the heart aside, hidden for the moment, to be taken out later in private and reexamined. Unpleasant matters awaited their attention.

Looking straight ahead, Golden Eagle imparted his news. “I received word from Matosapa of the Oglala. Matosapa has agreed to take Night Star as his mate. His first wife died last winter. He is a strong warrior who has counted coup many times for his brave deeds and has proven to be a good provider in his village. He should be able to control your sister so she cannot cause more trouble. He is on his way as we speak.”

Red Fox came to an abrupt stop and placed his hands upon his comrade’s shoulders, relief flooding his solemn features. “That is good news, my brother. I had feared there were no warriors left brave enough to take Night Star. Word of her troublemaking and mean spirit has spread to the other tribes,” he confided. His brows rose in concern, lips tightening. “Does Matosapa know of my sister’s reputation?” Red Fox asked. “I do not want her to be returned.”

Golden Eagle patted Red Fox on the back and moved forward. “Do not worry, Red Fox. Matosapa knows of your sister. He is lonely and needs a woman to take care of his tipi and give him little ones. He looks forward to the challenge of taming your sister.”

Red Fox sighed with relief. “Ah, that is good then. Let us go tell my father. He is getting too old to deal with her. It is time she had a family of her own to occupy her time.”

A short while later Golden Eagle and Red Fox left the tipi of Striking Snake and went their separate ways.

Red Fox spotted Night Star and approached her, interrupting the chatter of the small group of women. “My sister. You are needed in our tipi. Come,” he ordered quietly but firmly.

Night Star stomped after her brother and entered her father’s tipi. Placing her plump hands on her wide hips, she glared at Red Fox, completely ignoring her aging father.

“What is it you want that could not have waited, Red Fox?” she demanded peevishly. She’d been humiliated when Red Fox summoned her so brusquely. Oh, he’d been polite, but all had heard the command underlining the words, and she’d seen amusement in the other women’s eyes as she’d had no choice but to follow him. A
brother was given authority over his sisters until that authority was transferred to her husband.

“Sit, daughter.” Striking Snake’s deep voice thundered in obvious displeasure as he cut off her angry tirade.

Night Star jumped. Her father had not spoken to her so harshly for many winters. A sense of foreboding assailed her. Nonetheless, she raised her chin and defiantly stated, “I will stand, my father. What is it that is so important that I must be summoned as if I were a child?”

Hands on her shoulders applied pressure. “Our father has asked that you sit, sister. Sit on your own, or be put on your sitting mat,” Red Fox told her.

Night Star threw a look of hatred over her shoulder and threw herself down, the corners of her mouth drooping with resentment.

Striking Snake studied his daughter’s defiant demeanor before looking over her shoulder to his son. “My son, I see that you are very wise. She does not have the look of contentment and happiness. I see bitterness and anger in their place. I have been neglectful in my duties, and for this I apologize.”

Night Star sputtered, and would have jumped to her feet, were it not for Red Fox standing behind her.

“I have received an offer of marriage for you, my daughter,” Striking Snake announced.

Lifting her head high, Night Star looked down her nose, hiding her relief. For a few moments she’d been afraid of something much more serious. This was a problem she could handle easily and quickly. “Who has made this offer, my father?” Night Star asked, struggling for the proper respect due such a request.

“Matosapa of the Oglala tribe has offered for you. He has sent some fine furs and two ponies.” With a wave of his hand, he indicated a pile of richly colored furs.

Tossing her head, Night Star stood and kneeled beside the generous pile of furs. She fingered the softness with regret. They were indeed beautiful, thick and rich in color. If only she could keep them without accepting the marriage offer. Turning back to her father, she gave him a sad look.

“No, my father. You will have to send these back. I do not wish to join to Matosapa.” She turned to leave, and gasped when Red Fox stepped in her path, blocking her exit.

Rounding on Red Fox, Night Star hissed, “Let me pass, Red Fox. I will not stay and discuss this. You have been given my answer.”

Red Fox calmly stated, “I did not expect any different answer from your lips, sister. I know that you bide your time for Golden Eagle.”

Night Star gasped. If the rest of the village found out she would never be able to hold her head up without fear of ridicule. Never mind that it was the truth. She drew herself up proudly, and boldly faced Red Fox. “How ridiculous, brother. Golden Eagle is spoken for. All know this. He is not the reason I turn down Matosapa. I will find a husband when I’m ready. Now let me pass.”

Red Fox shook his head and grabbed Night Star by the arm. “The decision has already been made, my sister. It was never a choice for you to make. Our father had hoped you would accept on your own. You will marry Matosapa when he arrives in a few days’ time.”

Twisting out of his hurtful grasp. Night Star turned to her father. Surely he’d not force her into this marriage. Seeing her father’s stoical expression, Night Star felt true fear.

She fell before him and begged, “No, Father, no. Do not force me to join this warrior. Don’t make me leave our village. You can’t send me away. I am your only daughter,” she appealed.

Seeing conviction hardening his eyes against her pleading, Night Star tried a different approach. “What about you? If I leave your tipi, who will take care of you? Who will tend to the women’s work here? You need me here.” She whined, truly afraid. Here, she could do as she pleased, but in another village…

Raising his brows sharply, Striking Snake glanced over his daughter’s head and met Red Fox’s knowing gaze. He shook his head at Night Star.

“Red Fox is right, Night Star. I have been wrong to let you wait so long. I had hoped that you would choose a mate and settle on your own. The one you choose and would wait for is spoken for and therefore not meant for you,” Striking Snake advised his daughter.

Night Star jumped up, all pretense of sadness vanishing as she glared at her brother.

“Your mind and heart are turning bitter and evil, my daughter. You need a husband to guide you during your walk through this life. All has been arranged. Nothing you can say will change the decision that has been made. Someday, you may thank me.” Striking Snake signaled an end to the discussion as his voice grew faint with weakness.

Red Fox grabbed Night Star. “Our father tires. We will leave him to rest,” he commanded, dragging Night Star behind him.

Outside and away from her tipi, Night Star turned on Red Fox, swinging her arm, aiming a blow toward his face. “I hate you, Red Fox. How could you do this to me?” she raged.

Catching her wrist, Red Fox easily thrust her hand down behind her back. “Be warned, little sister. Do not try that again. I would not hesitate to punish you here and now.”

Sternly, he added, “You have caused much trouble in our village of late. You refused to heed the warnings given to you and have disobeyed me and Golden Eagle. This is to be part of your punishment.”

Spitting at his feet, Night Star sneered. “You would banish your own flesh and blood? You would keep me from my father? Perhaps you plan on taking the white whore to your tipi to replace me when Golden Eagle and Wild-Flower…” Her words broke off abruptly when Red Fox’s fingers bit painfully into her flesh.

“Will you never learn to hold your tongue, sister? You should take care lest you find yourself without it one day,” Red Fox warned.

He sighed, visibly controlling his temper. “You have not been banished from our tribe. You will be able to come and visit, but it has been made clear to Matosapa that he must accompany you. It is our hope you will not find your new life so bad. That is up to you. You alone are responsible for the path you walk.”

Red Fox released her and cautioned, “Watch yourself with your new husband. Matosapa is not the kind of warrior who will let his woman strike him or tell him what to
do. Golden Eagle made sure he found someone who would be able to keep you in your place. Matosapa will keep you too busy to cause trouble in the Oglala village.”

Red Fox turned his back and walked off, leaving Night Star to deal with her fate. Night Star seethed. Her hands balled into tight fists. She hated him, hated them all. Her fury grew with each passing second, and before she even knew what she was doing, she was running after her brother.

“I’ll run away before I marry someone you choose for me,” she screamed, crossing her arms, oblivious to the shocked onlookers. Night Star’s lips curled in a sneer and she laughed at her brother’s incredulous expression. She refused to back down as he stalked toward her. She meant what she said.

In a deceptively calm voice Red Fox inquired, as if he had not heard right, “You’ll do what?” Crossing his arms in his most menacing manner, he and all the others waited for her to back down. Some, by the look on their faces, were thoroughly enjoying the showdown between brother and sister.

Night Star scornfully goaded her brother. “You heard me. Of course, I won’t stay away long. Just long enough that Matosapa or whomever else you choose leaves in disgust.” Throwing Red Fox a malicious grin, Night Star turned on her heels and stalked off.

Red Fox stared open-mouthed as Night Star left. He didn’t believe she would actually dare go to that extreme to avoid marriage, but neither would he risk it. Throwing back his shoulders, hands at hips, he stared at the gathered crowd. Determination lent a harshness to his features.
She will marry Matosapa and I will personally see to it,
he vowed silently.

His mouth tightened angrily as he pursued Night Star. Stopping in front of her, he bent at the waist, grabbed her around the knees and slung her over his shoulder. Straightening under the considerable weight, he called to several young unmarried warriors he knew he could trust to do his bidding. He motioned for them to follow as he stalked toward the sloping bank of the slow-moving stream.

Red Fox turned a deaf ear to the screeches and curses being hurled upon him. All the people of the village stopped what they were doing and eagerly followed brother and sister. Yells and cheers rang loud and clear, many shouting out advice to Red Fox.

Arriving at the water’s edge, Red Fox waded into the deep swirling middle. Dumping his heavy load with a splash, he commanded the three warriors waiting for instructions, “You will divide the task of following and watching my sister day and night. She is not to leave this village nor is she allowed near a horse. You will not let her out of your sight for any reason.”

Looking directly at his shocked and sputtering sister, he added, “And that includes all her personal needs including bathing,” he added. “Perhaps now you will act in a reasonable manner,” he told her.

Turning, Red Fox left the stream. Stopping in front of the warriors, he gave a last warning. “You are responsible for Night Star. You will be held accountable if she should run away.”

Nodding their heads, the warriors accepted their responsibility. They, like everyone else in the village, had grown tired of Night Star’s never-ending complaints and trouble-making. And all three, at one time or another, had been spurned by her as well.

Toward the end of the week, a hot spell overcame the lands. Even high into the hills, the shade offered little relief from the hot breeze. Sarah sat outside, leaning against the tipi in what little sheltering shade it provided.

A makeshift fan made from woven dried grass provided little relief. High above, the bright yellow sun sent its rays down, scorching everything in its path.

She pulled her dress away from her sweat-slicked skin. The dress she wore was the first garment she’d made for herself.

The hide dress was unadorned, being one of her everyday garments. She’d chosen to leave off the yoke, not wanting the added layer of hide in the summer heat. Using the skin of an antelope, she’d simply cut a hole in the center of the hide for her head and stitched up the sides, leaving the sleeves short and loose.

Fanning herself vigorously, Sarah tried to muster the energy required to prepare their noon meal, but when she tried to rise, she found herself so weak and lethargic that she remained where she was.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her drawn-up knees, her attention on Matosapa and Night Star, his new wife, as they prepared to leave.

Matosapa had arrived yesterday, alone, leading several horses loaded with many fine gifts for his future wife’s family and the chief. Sarah could almost feel sorry for the Indian girl. After the scene with her brother a week ago, it was no secret within the village that she had been forced to marry. Many of the younger women, along with scorned past suitors, were openly delighted that Night Star had been watched and followed wherever she went this past week, some even joining in on their own to watch and follow her.

Observing the big Indian, Sarah was amazed at his incredible size. Matosapa, whose name meant Black Bear, stood tall and proud, around six feet in height. His massive body towered over all the other warriors. His air of command and size had Night Star obeying without hesitation.

Closing her eyes to the blinding brightness, she sighed as a shadow fell over her, giving her some relief from the glare. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes to see who had come to call, and found herself looking up at Golden Eagle.

Mistaking his frown of concern for displeasure, she started to rise. “I’m sorry, Golden Eagle, our meal is not ready.”

Golden Eagle hunkered down on his haunches and stilled Sarah with hands on her shoulders. “Do you not feel well, White Wind? You are not sick, are you?” he asked, concern lacing his words.

Sarah shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Just hot and tired. Must be this heat.” Shading her eyes, she turned her gaze back to the group loading the packhorse.

Golden Eagle tucked a stray damp lock of hair behind Sarah’s ear. “Don’t worry about her, White Wind. She chose her path. Matosapa is a good man. The rest is up to Night Star.” Standing, he offered his hand. Pulling Sarah to her feet, he kept an arm around her as she swayed. “How about joining me for a swim? It will cool you and perhaps make you feel better. When we return, we will have dried meat for our meal and you will rest.”

Sarah smiled weakly. This was one time she wouldn’t argue with him. “A swim sounds wonderful. Thank you, Golden Eagle.” Side by side, they walked along the path that would lead them to inviting cool waters.

Dark angry eyes followed their progress. Night Star watched until Golden Eagle and Sarah disappeared, hate filling her. She blamed her misfortune on the white girl. All of this was
her
fault. She would find a way to get even with both of them.

Turning at the call of her new husband, Night Star paled when she realized all was ready for their journey. There was no way to stall for more time. Soon, she would be alone with the big Indian. Shuddering at the thought of lying beneath her huge husband, she closed her eyes. There had to be a way out. She had plenty of time before nightfall. Without looking at her family, Night Star had no choice but to allow her husband to assist her onto her pony. Warned beforehand of Night Star’s reluctance, Matosapa took the lead rope in his hands. Night Star did not look back as he led the way out of the village.

The breeze picked up, drifting lazily, caressing the inhabitants of the Black Hills, and the sun began to lose its fiery heat as it sank on the distant horizon.

The week had been overly warm, and topped with Night Star’s black moods, a heavy cloud of tension had hung over the tribe. Nature took pity with the arrival of a
welcome cooling breeze that, along with Night Star’s departure, relieved the oppressive mood. That night a festive mood abounded in the village.

Too warm to sleep, toddlers and youngsters ran gleefully, finally able to expend some of their energies as their naked bodies frolicked in the night air, taking advantage of their indulgent parents. Older children sat in groups, playing with miniature tipis, dolls, travois and weapons or talking, enjoying the treat of staying up later than normal. Adults sat and gossiped as they kept their eyes on the little ones.

Squirrels scampered through tree tops, stopping to chatter at the noisy humans, as if to say it was late and time for bed. Startled birds rose into the darkening sky to land higher in the tall tree tops, seeking quiet to settle in for the night.

Chief Hawk Eyes was on his way back from a refreshing cool dip in the water. Stopping, he turned his head to the dusky sky above. This was his favorite time of the day. The land grew still, the brightness of the sun faded into colorful streaks across Mother Sky before fading into darkness. It was a time when he could silently enjoy the peace of his land and communicate with the spirits.

Sounds of angry squealing came through the tree tops, followed by the descent of a large nut that hit him in the head. Two pairs of beady eyes peered over the edge of their perch. Hawk Eyes laughed and picked up the fallen prize. He would have it later.

He took no more than a couple of steps before another sound from nearby bushes stopped him in his tracks. At full alert, he frowned, cocked his head to one side and listened. The sound of retching was unmistakable.

Pushing back the green branches, he saw the white girl kneeling hunched over a log, head held between her knees.

A strong inbred sense of duty overcame his reluctance. He returned to the stream, where he gathered some tall grasses and dipped them in the water, then returned to Sarah.

Sarah groaned, her shoulders shaking as another wave of nausea overcame her. Hawk Eyes placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her braids from her face as another spasm racked her body.

The nausea finally passed and Sarah lifted her head and looked over her shoulder through watery eyes. Her face paled even more when she saw that it was Hawk Eyes standing with his hands resting upon her trembling shoulders.

Silently, Hawk Eyes handed her the bunch of wet grass and watched as she wiped her face, lowering her eyes in embarrassment.

After a few minutes, he noticed the color slowly returning to the white girl’s face. He reached down and helped her to her feet. With his hand gripping her elbow, he led her to a large rock. “Sit,” he commanded.

Hawk Eyes studied her wan features. “Have you been sick long?” he asked, trying to control the suspicions running wildly through his head.

“No, Chief Hawk Eyes,” Sarah replied quietly. “It is the heat causing my illness. It only started this week with the arrival of hot weather. It comes and goes, never lasting long. I am fine now. Thank you for your kindness. I will return to your son’s tipi.”

Hawk Eyes moved in front of her, blocking her exit. “Not yet. Sit.” Startled, Sarah resumed her seated position. “How long have you been with us, Sarah?” He frowned, realizing that he’d called her by her given name for the first time, something he’d vowed never to do. She was the “white girl” whenever he was forced to speak to or about her.

Sarah drew her brows together as she mentally calculated. “Almost three months, I think. Why?” she asked.

Closing his eyes, not wanting things more complicated than they already were, he prayed her answer to his next question would alleviate his suspicions. Drawing a deep breath, the chief boldly plunged on. “When is the last time you visited the women’s lodge?” he delicately asked.

He remembered her going there a few days after her arrival in their village. He’d been relieved to have her out of his tipi for even that short amount of time.

Sarah closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in exhaustion. “The women’s lodge?” Sarah echoed. Just last week Bright Blossom had said the others had missed her in the women’s lodge, but Sarah had dismissed the thought, paying no further attention to any possible changes in her body—until now.

Her eyes shot open and flew to his face. She colored, scarlet staining her cheeks as her hands fluttered to her middle. “It can’t be,” she whispered in awe and wonder.

Crossing his arms, Hawk Eyes closed his eyes for a moment, seeking control of his emotions before he spoke sternly.

“If you have been sharing my son’s sleeping mat, then not only can it be, but it is very likely that you are with child. My son’s child,” he added unnecessarily.

Sarah looked away in embarrassment, but not before he saw the glow enter her eyes. Hawk Eyes put his hand to his forehead and swore beneath his breath as he realized something else. If the white girl were indeed with child, as it appeared she was, then she carried his first grandchild.

Sarah hugged herself and watched Chief Hawk Eyes pace the ground in front of her, mumbling to himself. If anyone had come upon them, they too would have been amazed, for the chief never lost control.

He spun around, startling Sarah. “Do you love my son?” His arms folded across his scarred chest as he stared down at her.

Sarah looked up, her eyes softening, face glowing. “Yes, Chief Hawk Eyes, I love Golden Eagle.”

Looking into deep blue pools, he could not deny the truth of her words. He’d seen the same love there many times, but had refused to acknowledge it. Taking a few steps back, he stated, “You carry my grandchild. The life we lead is a harsh one. How long will you remain in our village before you decide to return to your house of wood and the comforts within? Can you promise that you will never want to leave and take the child away to return to your people and way of life? Answer me truthfully,” Hawk Eyes commanded.

Sarah stood on shaky legs, arms at her side, and looked Hawk Eyes in the eye. “I do not know the future or what it holds, so I would be foolish to promise what I do not know. I can only tell you how I feel.” She sank down on the log, struggling to control another wave of nausea.

“Where Golden Eagle goes, I will follow as long as he wants me and I am allowed to stay,” she continued in a voice as firm as she could manage. “This is where I belong. I am content and happy living among your people. There will be times, though, when I will want to visit my other home and have my children know of their white heritage as well.”

Hawk Eyes took a deep breath, fighting his admiration for Sarah. He stepped forward, unwilling to give in yet. While her words were spoken with spirit and honesty, there was much at stake. He stood toe to toe with Sarah, brows drawn fiercely, hands crossed intimidatingly across his chest. Still, Sarah did not back down. She looked up at him, her chin lifted higher, and unflinching blue eyes meshed with brown.

“I do not doubt that you wish to remain with my son. Nor do I question your feelings. But none of that is important if you cannot endure the life that our women endure day after day, year after year. You are white. Few white women can survive the harshness of our way of life. What makes you think you can survive our way of life?” he asked, contempt of her white blood raining over Sarah as if he’d physically struck her.

Sarah’s jaw dropped. Disbelief quickly fled as anger, swift as a shadow, swept across her face and settled in her eyes. Her mouth worked, but no words came out. She pushed herself from the log. Her hands gripped her hips as she turned away for long moments before returning to stand before the stoic chief.

“Chief Hawk Eyes, you are wrong to presume that only Indian women are strong enough to survive in this wilderness. Just because my way of life is different doesn’t mean I am inferior or that your women are better. There are many things we can learn from each other to make all our lives better,” Sarah sputtered, bristling with indignation.