Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) (29 page)

"Your plan is good, my brother," said War Eagle.

The two men exchanged smiles of affection and mutual respect before
their band made a covert entry into the forest. They secreted themselves
amidst the ample vegetation which grew on both sides of a well-worn
animal path; they hoped their enemies would follow this path as the
first two had done. Wind Dancer hoped to allow them to catch a
glimpse of him to provoke them into chasing him into a trap. They
waited in rising suspense as they heard one man call out again for his
missing friends and heard his companions make speculations as to
whether their disappearances were the result of trouble or if a joke
was being played on them; and they seemed to lean toward the latter
explanation.

Soon, the Apsaalooke approached their position; and they curled
their bodies into tight balls near the earth and in the thickest parts of the greenery surrounding them. When their foes slowly moved between
them on the narrow trail, Wind Dancer simultaneously let out a war
whoop-the attack signal-and lunged from his hiding place, his outstretched arms seizing two startled Bird Warriors around their throats
and his momentum carrying all three into the opposite bushes where
Chumani was concealed.

Without delay, his companions sprang into action. Chumani jumped
atop one fallen warrior, the smallest of the Crow party, though she was
certain his strength and probably his skills were superior to hers. Zitkala
shot out her feet to entangle and trip a third, Red Feather leapt upon
and locked on to a fourth's back, and War Eagle charged the fifth
astonished man. While they had the advantage of surprise, Chumani
sliced across the right-hand fingers of her target to weaken his grasp,
which compelled him to drop his weapon. Zitkala bounded upon her
quarry's back and buried her knife in the writhing man's shoulder,
though she had wanted to send the blade into his heart. As Red Feather
rode his captive, who bucked like a wild horse, he sliced at the man's face
and neck, scoring many cuts and infuriating him. War Eagle slammed his
lowered shoulder into his opponent's abdomen and stunned him; and
Wind Dancer thrashed in the bushes and vegetation as he attempted
to overpower the largest and strongest enemy amongst all of them.

The clashes were fierce and swift. At one point, Chumani's opponent
pinned her to the ground and attempted to choke her. Wind Dancer,
who was straddling his opponent in close proximity, kicked out forcefully
with one foot and knocked the scowling Crow from his wife's imprisoned
body. Chumani took advantage of the moment and grabbed a handful
of dirt and flung it into the man's face; it filled his nose and eyes,
causing him to lose sight of her and to interfere with his breathing. As
he wiped at his watery eyes, snorted, and coughed, Chumani rammed
her head into his stomach, and followed that blow with one from her
knife. As the man stumbled into Red Feather, he slashed outward with
his blade, running it across an exposed throat and ended the Crow's
life; then he concentrated on his desperate target.

Chumani hurried to assist Zitkala with her struggle, the two women slashing him in vulnerable spots until he was too weak to resist. One
final cut with Zitkala's weapon ended their conflict.

Wind Dancer observed his brother's fight. Though he wanted to help
complete it before War Eagle was wounded or slain, it was not their
way to intrude on another's encounter; so he would take over only if
his brother became impaired. Too, he was aware of War Eagle's elite
prowess, and of an expertise which was large for a man of so few seasons
of battle experience. He risked a distracting glance at his best friend,
to find that Red Feather was the victor. He already knew his wife and
Zitkala had been successful with their battles, and had witnessed his
beloved's trickery. He recalled when his eyes had been blinded by dirt
during the grizzly attack, and was proud of her for using that sly tactic.

The others gathered beside him to witness War Eagle's contest. It
was clear the youngest member of their band was not playing with his
opponent-they were simply very well-matched. Even so, the son of
Chief Rising Bear soon defeated the last enemy and after receiving only
one minor cut on his left forearm and a small nick on his right shoulder.
As for the others and himself, they had received only a few cuts, nicks,
scrapes, and bruises; and none were serious.

Wind Dancer glanced at each fallen body and smiled. "We have won
a great victory this day, my friends and loved ones," he said. "No longer
will Chaheechopes and his band scout and raid our camps and slay our
people. We must carry their bodies to their campfire and place the
blame for this deed upon wasicun settlers or Bluecoats and their halfbreed scouts. We will take their possessions and horses as war prizes to
be used later when we pull our trick at Fort Pierre. We will use the
wasicun's horses we kept from our last raid to make iron-shoe marks
around the Bird Warriors' campfire and we will leave the short firestick
and piece of cloth from the white man's world so they will be blamed
when these bodies are found by Chaheechopes' people or allies. Come,
we must prepare the way to fool them, tend our injuries, and ride for
home. This is a glorious day for us as companions."

The others smiled and nodded agreement, then set to work to carry
out Wind Dancer's orders.

When they'd reached a safe location in Lakota territory and made
camp for the night, Wind Dancer and Chumani left their companions
sitting around a fire and headed over a low hill to take advantage of
their last chance at privacy for a while. Though they had told the others
they were taking a walk, their intent was no doubt clear. Yet, they did
not care if their pretense failed to dupe anyone, as their need for each
other was too great. A half-moon lighted their way as they strolled
onward, and stars twinkled overhead. They had reached the season when
days were warm and nights were mild. Night-blooming flowers added
an extra fragrance to the air upon which the scents of day-flowers and
grasses wafted in freedom. The almost ever-present wind was blowing,
but the rise in terrain sheltered them on its far side from the strongest
gusts.

At a secluded distance away from the others, they halted and sat
down on the thick grass. For a time, they simply savored each other's
company and the Creator's scenery. Soon they sank to their backs and
began to talk in soft voices.

As he turned his head and looked into her luminous eyes, Wind
Dancer murmured an admission he had yearned to make since they
met, "You are a cunning thief, mitawin, for you have stolen my heart."

Chumani smiled and warmed, for his expression and tone revealed
he was serious. "As you have stolen mine, mihigna. You fill me with
love and desire for you. I am happy and honored to be your wife."

Wind Dancer rolled to his side and propped himself with an elbow.
"As I am proud and happy to be your husband," he said, caressing her
cheek and stroking her hair. "I was lost in you from the day your
morning mist settled upon me in the Brave Heart forest. I was a man,
a warrior, a hunter, and a future chief, but I was not whole and my
life-circle was not complete until you entered it and filled the one
remaining hole within me and my existence. I love and need you as I
have no other."

Chumani lifted a hand so her fingers could trace his full and enticing
lips as she disclosed, "Long before we met in the forest, you filled my mind with a craving for you after my eyes sighted you during our
intertribal meeting. I could not get closer, for women do not approach
men when they talk and game, but your magic reached out to me across
that great distance. After our encounter in the forest, it grew as swift
and high as the grass on the Plains. I believed our lives would never
blend, so I tried to ignore and forget you, but you refused to leave my
thoughts and dreams. After you came to my camp and claimed me, I
was afraid to believe I could win your love and allegiance. My spirit
soars to learn I have won a great and glorious victory. I, too, love and
need you as I have no other, for you also make me whole."

"Do we dare to risk a union here where our minds will be distracted?"

Chumani could tell that he was jesting. "We lie beneath the Great
Spirit's dwelling and upon Mother Earth's body, so They will protect
us from all harm," she said. "I am yours, mihigna, take me."

Wind Dancer responded instantly to her words and seductive mood.
His dark eyes roamed her lovely face, radiant in the moon's glow, as
he murmured, "As I am yours, mitawin, so take me."

He sighed happily when she wriggled closer and snuggled against
him. He had day and night dreamed of sharing special moments like
this with her, and at last they had become realities. He wondered if the
heartbeats he felt upon his chest were hers, his, or both of theirs. He
shoved aside worries of her safety and survival during their awesome
challenges, knowing he must trust Wakantanka to guard her life for
him. All he wanted now was to concentrate on his wife, and their love
for each other.

Chumani, too, could think of nothing except loving him. Perhaps
they were risking peril by being away from the others, armed only with
knives, but she was willing to take that chance. She could not seem to
get enough of him-his touch, his scent, his words of passion. When
he kissed her, she felt she was complete. As their mouths feasted in
abundant delight, her questing hand wandered over his dark and sleek
torso, her fingertips admiring his virile physique. He gave her joy, hope,
and pleasure. He charged her with energy, as if renewing her very soul.
He brought peace to her once-troubled spirit, and assuaged the anguish over her son's loss and caused her to long for another child. Because
of him, she was excited and satisfied to be a woman and wife. He was
perfection; and he belonged to her of his own free will. It would have
amazed her to know those same thoughts and feelings filled him.

Hungering to caress each other's naked flesh, they quickly shed their
garments and moccasins and sank to the lush blanket of green as they
embraced, stroked, and kissed. Their hands, lips, and tongues roamed
each other in freedom and enthusiasm. All of their senses seemed heightened. They noticed how moonlight played over sun-kissed bodies and
ebony hair and created sensual shadows on each other. They felt the
ticklings of grass blades and wildflower stems and blossoms, and inhaled
their pleasing scents. They felt the cooling night air gently settling upon
them. They heard noctural birds calling to their mates, and they heard
each other's pounding heartbeats.

Wind Dancer nibbled at her earlobe, neck, and bare shoulders, his
playful tongue journeying from end to end along her collarbone, teasing
the dip at the center of her throat, and pausing at each pulse point to
test his potent and mounting effect upon her. She was powerful magic;
she was irresistible allure; and she belonged to and with him. His caresses
and kisses grew bolder as his passions burned brighter and higher. His
hand drifted over her breasts, fondling and firming them. His lips
followed that blissful trail and lingered there for a while as his hand
walked a slow path down her flat stomach and past her hips to enter
the center of her womanhood. He felt a heat like a smoldering fire
radiating from her and yearned to tantalize her to an even loftier peak
of suspense.

Chumani writhed as he worked magic upon her susceptible body.
She was taut with anticipation, as hot as a stone in a fire before the
purification ritual. Every spot on her seemed to beckon him closer and
onward. She loved and wanted him with every part of her being. She
was so alive in his arms, and he was more important to her than her
own survival. Not long ago, she had feared losing herself in him; now,
that was all she wanted to do.

Soon, Wind Dancer thrust within the dewy core of her desire, and she welcomed his loving invasion, capturing his lower body with her
legs and encircling his neck with her hands. No matter how many times
they joined in this manner, it was never the same and was always better
than any time before. "You are my heart and destiny, Dewdrops; I love
you."

"You are my heart and destiny, mihigna, and I love you. Like your
name, we will dance upon the wind this night and find great happiness."

As if by a mutual and unspoken signal, they set a steady pattern and
matching pace as their soaring spirits chanted their own songs of love
and enchantment. Every kiss, every caress, every word spoken was a
reaffirming promise of the commitment between them. Their bodies
moved together in an enthralling dance of love and bonding.

Unable to resist the urgent flood of fervent passion which swept her
away in its swirling current, Chumani lost herself in its wild and wondrous course. Soon she reached a blissful crest and yielded herself to
sweet triumph as she cascaded over its towering edge. Hearing her cry
of pleasure, Wind Dancer let go of the weakened reins of his restraint
and joined her in a burst of glorious splendor. As he gazed into her
rich brown eyes during the last few moments of his climax, they seemed
to gleam with contentment, great love, and intense elation-the same
feelings that abounded in him.