Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) (8 page)

First, he painted the entire surface white, as if it were a cloud. Around
its edges he painted black grizzly paws from which strength and courage
were drawn, and black deer tracks to draw from the speed and agility
of that animal, and red tracks of the buffalo upon which their survival
depended. He attached a fox tail to the lower right side to inspire
cunning and stealth. Four eagle feathers were added near the leather
shoulder band, the ruler of the sky where the wind danced, one for
each of the directions from which it blew. He secured a tiny bundle of
red stones on the lower left to show his forever-ties to his ancestors.
Another small bundle, which held blue flax and green sage to represent
the earth and sky, was attached to the lower right side. He painted on
a yellow lightning bolt and several blue hailstones across the lower half
to gather their power and speed.

Wind Dancer rested for a short time before finishing with the two
sacred signs from the visions, symbols painted across the top half, one
in yellow and one in brown. Two, his mind echoed, that number having
a calming-yet stimulating-effect on him this time. He gazed at the
completed, still wet shield and smiled. Yes, the Great Spirit would make
his dreams come true and would show him how to defeat the threats
against his people.

He returned to the camp and hung the shield upon his three-legged
huyamni to dry. The wooden legs of the stand allowed the renewing
power of the earth to travel into his possessions. It stood outside so his
belongings could soak up the warmth and light of the sun, the shining
power of the Great Mystery above. His gaze passed over his other
weapons suspended there: his decorated bow, a beaded quiver filled
with arrows and painted with his markings, a wrist guard, a war club,
war lance, coup stick, and sheathed knife with an elk antler grip. His
personal pipe rested in a beaded bag and his medicine bundle was suspended as well; from it dangled several grizzly claws and it contained
special stones, bones, feathers, and good-luck charms.

In an elated mood, the oldest son of the Red Shield chief headed to
tend his three horses before night blanketed the land. One was used
only for carrying items, for riding during journeys, and for hunting.
Another was a buffalo horse, which was agile, swift, and trained to race
with the great dark beast while avoiding its sharp and lethal horns. The
last was his war horse, upon which a warrior's survival and success
depended, and Wind Dancer's favorite mount, who he had trained and
ridden for eight spans of the seasons. That would be the animal he rode
to face his coming challenges. When the next sun rose, he would paint
his victory and medicine symbols upon its hide and journey with a
chosen party to carry out the first step along his destiny trail.

Nahemana joined his grandson shortly after dawn on what he expected
and prayed would be a momentous time in their lives. His gaze roamed
the white-and-black horse with its numerous markings which exposed
Wind Dancer's high rank and glorious exploits. The shaman's gaze
drifted to the war shield in his grandson's grasp and read the meanings
for its many colorful symbols, including two new ones: signs of his
spirit helpers from the sacred vision.

"It is good, micinksi, "the old man said. "You will enter their camp
as the great warrior and future chief you are. Are the joining and
friendship gifts ready?"

"Yes, Grandfather; War Eagle and Red Feather will bring them to
us. They will come soon; they gather supplies for our journey and task.
Father is preparing himself to leave with us."

"Are you ready and willing to face the tasks before you, micinksi?"

"Yes, Grandfather." Wind Dancer prayed he would not fail in his
duty, once it was revealed. He had vowed to do his best in those
impending challenges, to sacrifice his life if necessary. And he had vowed
to never again think of or crave another woman in his future wife's
place. The symbols of his two new spirit helpers were painted upon his
shield, and he hoped they gave him the strength and courage to do what he must, including forget Morning Mist, if she was real. He must
not go chasing a foolish dream, a woman out of his reach.

"Do you think they will hear our vision words and believe them,
Grandfather?" he asked. "Will they agree to our plan?"

"They must, micinksi, for they are the will and commands of Wakantanka. He will open their eyes, ears, hearts, and minds to the truth.
Now it is time to go; your destiny awaits you and your chosen one."

Wind Dancer saw his father, brother, and best friend heading toward
them with five choice horses trailing behind them and with many gifts
secured atop their backs. He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.
Farewell forever, my beautiful Morning Mist, for our paths must never
cross again, he thought in great sadness. If they do, I must resist your
powerful pull, for I will soon be joined to another for the rest of my suns
and moons on Mother Earth.

Chumani left the forest and approached her parents' tepee with a bundle
of wood resting across her back. As she did so, she noticed the group
of horses tethered outside their lodging and surmised they had visitors.
She paused to study one animal in particular, a large black-and-white
creature with alert eyes and a sleek hide. It was not his beauty and
size which captured her attention, however; rather, its markings and
decorations were so startling, they drew her astonished gaze and caused
her to walk around the horse several times to read their meanings. A
yellow life-circle was painted on its left shoulder. Many white coup
slashes were on its forelegs, and red ones were across its broad nose.
Wide yellow circles enclosed the animal's eyes to aid its vision. Four
red handprints upon its chest indicated four enemies had been slain in
weaponless fighting with bare hands, telling her the man whose horse
it was possessed great prowess and courage. A black square revealed its
owner had been a past war leader in at least one battle, so he was highly
respected and admired. Many upside-down black tracks told her the
man had been on successful horse raids. Also included in the markings
were blue dots of hailstone from which the animal and rider sought its
power to rain a terrifying force upon his enemies. A lightning bolt to
summon that element's speed and power seemingly flashed across its
left hindquarter in brilliant yellow, and blue lines on the right one said
he was a member of a warrior society. Attached to both sides of the thong which passed through the animal's mouth were two eagle feathers
to total four in all, and beaded strips for other coups and decoration,
and the same decorated the creature's dark tail and mane.

Chumani had seen many horses painted with their owner's medicine
signs and accomplishments, but never one with so many. It was evident
to her that its owner was an important man, a warrior of enormous
prowess. Her curiosity was piqued about him and his reason for being
there.

She hurried to the tepee entrance to gather information and to serve
refreshments to their visitors, as her mother was still in the forest
gathering wood and spring plants. Since the flap was thrown aside, it
was acceptable for her to enter without asking permission first, as was
the custom if the flap was down to indicate a desire for privacy. In the
center of the large tepee, five men sat facing her father, their backs to
her. From the flowing bonnet upon his head, one was obviously a chief.
Another was older, from his white hair and bent shoulders. The other
three were young males, all with dark hair cascading down their backs
and with feathers attached to gathered strands.

The warrior who sat between the elderly man and chief wore a
Wicasta Itancan shirt with a blue top and yellow bottom, fringed in
tiny hairlocks. In his raven-black mane were three eagle feathers and
one hawk feather dangling down the back of his head. One had three
dots on it to indicate he had slain three enemies in a single battle. Two
others had red, blue, black, and yellow hands on their shafts to reveal
how many enemies in all he had slain, which were numerous. The
fourth, a hawk's, she assumed was to signify his spirit helper. No doubt,
Chumani reasoned, he was the owner of the much-decorated blackand-white horse.

Tall Elk, chief of the Brule Lakotas, noticed his daughter's arrival
when he looked up from some of the gift items across his lap, a pile of
sleek and shiny pelts from various creatures. He nodded and smiled at
her.

"Do you wish me to serve water and food to our guests, Father?"
Chumani saw the Shirt Wearer stiffened his back when she spoke, but did not turn toward her as the other men did as she finished her query.
Yet, that was unnecessary in order for her to guess his identity when
she gazed upon the faces of Chief Mato Kikta, Nahemana, Wanbli, and
Wiyaka Lute of the Red Shield Band of Oglala Lakotas. What, her
panicked mind shouted, was Waci Tate doing there? What would he
do after he recognized her? Perhaps her voice had already exposed her
identity, the reason for his odd reaction to it. Would he betray her past
mischievous exploits? Should she apologize for them or remain quiet
and hope he did, too?

Tall Elk rose as he said, "I must speak with my daughter alone. Stay
and rest and we will return soon to seal our bond of alliance with the
pipe „

`Alliance?" Chumani's mind echoed in dread. The last thing she
needed or wanted was to have Wind Dancer around in the suns ahead
when she must forget his tempting existence, when an undesirable
joining to another man loomed before her like a dark cloud, and she
had a great and unknown challenge to meet and conquer! As she turned
to depart, her gaze was snared by a war shield amidst other weapons
near the entrance; it widened as she sighted the yellow dewdrop and
brown hawk painted upon a cloud-white surface. Somehow she knew
to whom it belonged, and its symbols caused apprehension within her.
Without even glancing back at the men, she sensed their keen gazes
upon her as she followed her father, her heart drumming in panic and
her mouth suddenly gone dry.

Before reaching the forest, they encountered her mother, and Tall
Elk told her to see to their important guests while he talked with their
daughter.

Magaju nodded, confused by the strange occurrence, as it was unlike
him to leave visitors alone. Magaju could not help but wonder if Chumani had committed some terrible misdeed, but prayed she had not.
Their child was not intentionally disobedient or overly headstrong, but
Chumani had changed since being compelled to join to a man she did
not love and especially since the loss of her baby. Following that awful
sun, her daughter had not wanted to join to another mate or bear another child, in fear of enduring their losses. All Chumani had concentrated on
was obtaining warrior-hunter skills and honing them to perfection with
the hope of finding and slaying the Crow who had caused her such
grief. Magaju said another prayer that someone and something would
come along to change her daughter's mind, and Sees-Through-Mist had
vowed that would happen.

In the edge of the treeline, Tall Elk halted and leaned against a pine.
He watched his daughter's eyes widen and stare at him as he revealed
the reason why the Red Shields had come to their camp. He finished
his task by saying, "The number of our warriors was lessened by the
Crow attacks two winters past and following the buffalo hunt last season,
and with the white man's evil sickness. We must unite with the Red
Shields, my child, as the Bird People and white-eyes are many and
strong, stronger if they form a truce and ride against us. That bond
will be scaled with a joining between the children of Tall Elk and Rising
Bear. You must do this for our people."

He wanted her to give herself to Wind Dancer ... "But, Father, he
is not Brule; he is not White Shield."

"That does not matter in perilous times, my child. He is a worthy
man; he has the skills to protect you and to provide for you."