Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) (9 page)

"But who will do those things for you and Mother if I leave camp?
My brother cannot do so, for he has his own tepee and family to care
for."

Tall Elk laughed. "I am still young and strong enough to defend my
mate and hunt for our food," he said. "I only allow you to do so because
it pleases you and gives you practice with your skills. This is the meaning
behind Sees-Through-Mist's dream and his gifts to you." And it will
take you off of danger's path. "You will be the wife of a powerful chief
when Rising Bear walks the Ghost Trail; your son will he chief when
his father is gone. Those are great honors, my child, and our bond to
them will last forever."

At that difficult and shocking moment, a tribal alliance between Brule
and Oglala was not foremost in her mind, though she told herself that
was selfish and wrong. Both tribes were members of the Seven Council Fires of the Lakota, but why had the Red Shields picked the White
Shields to ally with, and why at this particular time? Why not select
another Oglala band, such as Red Cloud's or Black Hawk's? Or another
Brule Band, such as Spotted Tail's? Any of those bands were larger and
more aggressive than her people's desirable qualities to help defeat the
Crow and Whites, especially if those two enemy forces banded together.
Had Wind Dancer-she mused in a rush-lusted for her as the brave
had for White Buffalo Maiden, Pte Skawin, discovered her identity and
location, and was using this deception to lay claim to her? A strong and
irresistible man like him would devour her, would try to change her.
On the other hand, she might have offended him during their first
encounter and earned his dislike and disrespect, and perhaps he felt
challenged to prove he could conquer her, or punish her. And no doubt
a man like him was already taken by another woman, if just one would
he enough!

The patient and astute Tall Elk had waited in silence while his
daughter meditated on the serious matter before them. He had mixed
feelings about asking his child to make this sacrifice of herself. On one
side, he was proud and happy she had been chosen for the sacred task
ahead and for a union with a great warrior. On the other side, he felt
guilty about the past torment she had endured. He had been the one
to persuade her to join to Dull Star when she reached twenty-one
winters, was mateless and childless; and Dull Star had proven himself
a warrior and had asked for her in joining. That mistake in judgment
had cost him the lives of his grandson, his parents, his wife's parents,
along with many others.

Dull Star had been left in charge of their camp two winters past
when most of the men were out on hunting and scouting parties, but
he had been distracted from his lookout duty while playing tapa with
a group of boys. When a small parry of Crow were sighted nearby, the
foolish and arrogant man had summoned other braves and led a chase
to drive the enemy away. But that pursuit had been a trick to lure the
guards out of camp so another and larger raiding party could attack,
and they did so. He could not convince himself he was not partly to blame for what happened, as those loved ones might still be aliveand his daughter would not have experienced such anguish and resentment-if another warrior had been in charge. But that was in the past,
and it must be the present and future which concerned him. His daughter
had been chosen by Wakantanka and must obey Him.

"Does Waci Tate have a wife? Perhaps two or three?"

Tall Elk chuckled again. "No, my child, his mate and son were slain
two winters past by the Crow, as were yours. Like you, he still seeks
vengeance on the Crow to blame, but their paths have not crossed. His
time for ghost-owning has passed. He performed the giveaway ritual
last winter, as did you and our family. He lives in the tepee of his
parents with his brother and sister."

Chumani was sad about his matching losses, but was relieved he was
alone. "Why has he taken no wife to replace her?" she asked.

"Why have you taken no mate to replace yours?" Tall Elk reasoned.

"I have not found one among us who steals my eye and heart. After
my son's loss, you said I would choose my next husband when I was
ready."

"I am happy you speak the truth to me on this sun, my daughter.
The same is probably true for Wind Dancer."

"He is a future chief and must have a son to follow him. Such is
not so for me. The child of Fire Walker will be chief after my brother
is gone.

"I do not pick your next mate for you, Chumani." He reminded
her of what he had said earlier, "Their shaman saw dangers coming
from two directions, and you were in their visions as Wind Dancer's
helper to defeat them; it is as Sees-Through-Mist foretold. Wind Dancer
rode to our camp with your symbol painted upon his cheek and with
a dewdrop and hawk painted upon his shield. Nahemana's vision and
Sees-Through-Mist's dream are commands from Wakantanka, my child;
do not dishonor yourself, your family, and your people by refusing to
obey them. You are strong, my child, but you must bend like the willow.
To all four-leggeds and all two-leggeds, the Great Spirit gave a song, a
costume, a life ritual: powerful medicine to share with His people. This calling will be your song, garment, and ritual, Dewdrops, and you will
make powerful medicine with Waci Tate. Many winters ago, the Whites
made Pike's Treaty and Prairie du Chien Council, but they did not
keep their word; they took the Nakotas and Dakotas lands and drove
them away. Now, the Whites cast their eyes upon Lakota lands, as have
our Crow enemies since before my grandfather was born. If we do not
form a strong alliance with others, our hunting grounds will be stolen
and we will be destroyed and driven away. Our destiny lies within your
hands."

Chumani realized a heavy burden rested on her shoulders, and wondered if she could truly carry out those duties. "Return to our tepee,
Father, and I will come soon. I must have time to think upon all you
have told me and to calm myself."

"Will you obey the command of Wakantanka?"

"Yes, Father, but it does not make me happy. Pray to the Great
Spirit that I am worthy of this task and can meet this challenge."

Tall Elk embraced his daughter. "You are wise and good, my child,"
he said, "and your skills are many and large. Wakantanka will reward
you greatly for obeying Him."

Following Chumani and Hehoka Hanska's departure, Wind Dancer's
thoughts spun wildly and swiftly from the reality of his discovery and
what it might mean to him. He could hardly believe Morning Mist
and Dewdrops were the same woman. Was that, he pondered, a good
or bad sign? How could he master a woman who lived and thought as
a warrior, a woman who had shown stubbornness, defiance, and rudeness
at their first meeting? Surely she would be trouble for him, but he must
find a way to tame her wild spirit and improve her ways. Would she
agree to unite with him? Had her dislike and disrespect of him in the
forest been real or faked? Did she love and desire another man and he
was stepping between them? In spite of all his questions, he could not
deny his desire for her, nor doubt her great prowess, though he doubted
she would have a large role in the tasks looming before them. Would
she surrender to him or would she scorn him as she had done in the forest? No matter, she was the Great Spirit's choice for him, so he must
obtain her.

Chumani knew she could not delay her return much longer or Wind
Dancer and his party would take it as a sign of insult, but she had not
settled down and still paced in the cover of the trees, her emotions in
a turmoil. Dread mingled with assurance; resistance, with compliance;
desire, with repulsion; elation, with sadness. She wished Zitkala was
there to advise and comfort her. But her best friend and constant
companion had gone hunting with others for a few suns and to scout
for the buffalos' seasonal movement toward the Plains. She had not
gone with them because her mother had been ill and had needed her
help with the chores. Now, she must face this test of her beliefs, sense
of honor, and courage alone.

Chumani could not help but worry that Nahemana's and Wind
Dancer's visions at Paha Mato six moons past had been controlled or
altered by seeing her before or shortly after they consumed the revelationinducing peyote. Or that an evil wicagnayesa had tricked the two men
only to lure her from the sacred path she was to walk, the one in her
shaman's dream. Would all be lost if she yielded to temptation and was
misled by the evil spirit?

Since her heart still ached over the loss of her son and his death had
not been avenged, why did a stranger stir it to life and longing? Why
did she feel weak, afraid, and uncertain, qualities so foreign to her? Why
did he cause confusion and distress within her? That, she deduced, was
the center of her troubled heart and mind; she feared she would lose
herself in him and his life. She feared the power of her irresistible pull
toward him, as such feelings could make an awesome weapon against
her in the hands of a cruel foe. She feared relenting, becoming happy
for a time, and losing all again. But you must go, Dewdrops, she urged
herself, and face your destiny, whatever and wherever it may be.

Magaju joined Chumani. "I have heard of what lies before you, my
daughter," she said. "This is good for you and our people, so what
troubles you?"

"Is it truly good for me, Mother?" she asked. "Why must I join to
a stranger, an outsider? To another man I do not love and desire?"

"If you possess the four virtues of the Lakota and the warrior you
try to be, you will make this sacrifice for the survival of your people
while our forces are weakened." Falling Rain reasoned in a gentle tone.
"You must show courage, strength, insight, and kindness; this will be
your greatest coup."

"A man such as Wind Dancer will not accept a female hunter-warrior
as his wife. He will try to cower and weaken me as he would a captive.
He will halt my search for the enemy who slayed my son and people.
Have you forgotten his raiding party killed the families of my parents
and many old ones while our men were away from camp?" Have you
forgotten the man my father chose for me was in charge of the guards left
behind that day and he failed in his task? "If I must leave my people and
end my vengeance quest, all remaining joy will leave my heart and life."

Falling Rain had not forgotten that agonizing time or what it had
done to her beloved child. "You will become a wife and mother again,
as it is meant to be for a woman."

"I do not wish to bear and lose another child; that pain is too great."

"Another child will heal your heart and bring much joy, my daughter."

"Who will share such feelings and suns when I am in a camp far
from my family, best friend, and people?"

"You will share them with your husband and your new people. Wind
Dancer's mate and son live with the Great Spirit, as do yours. Go with
him, my daughter, and allow the Great Spirit to heal your hearts and
help your peoples. If we do not ally with them and seal our bond with
your joining, we will suffer under the lances, arrows, and firesticks of
the Crow and Whites. A union between the children of two chiefs will
form a powerful bond. Now come, we must return to our tepee; there
is much to do and say."

That time, Wind Dancer turned and looked at Chumani when she
arrived in the tepee. Though she appeared to attempt to keep her expression void of feeling, he sensed gleams of anxiety and uncertainty
and a hint of defiance.

Chumani forced herself to lock gazes for a brief time with the Red
Shield warrior, to show him she was unfraid. Then she sighted the
yellow dewdrop on his left cheek as if he had already staked a claim of
ownership on her, and her jaw tightened in annoyance. Here before
her stood the legendary warrior Waci Tate, son of a chief, a future chief,
the man who too often sneaked into her dreams at night and into her
thoughts during the day, the man from her shaman's dream whom she
was to join. How would it feel to be held in his arms, to feel his lips
and hands upon her body, to lie with him on a sleeping mat, to-

"Dewdrops, come and sit with me," Tall Elk summoned her.

Wind Dancer turned and faced the Brule chief as the woman sat
beside him, her gaze lowered to the clasped hands in her lap. He had
noticed her irritated reaction to the symbol on his face, and had seen
that emotion vanish and her cheeks warm with color. Her eyes had
made a swift pass over him from head to feet, and a glow had danced
across her beautiful face and in her dark eyes. Yes, he decided, he was
appealing to her, but that reality disquieted her. Now, all that remained
to be learned was her reaction to his shocking news.

"Will you honor the words of the Great Spirit?" Tall Elk asked her.

"Yes, Father, I will obey the commands of the Great Mystery, though
I do not," she began in a deceptively calm voice, then locked her stoic
gaze with Wind Dancer's equally stoic one, "understand them."

When she paused and stared at him, Wind Dancer feared she was
about to shame him before his family and best friend by saying she did
not want to join to him but would force herself to become his wife and
do her duty. He was relieved when those words did not escape her
lovely lips. She showed great courage and wisdom in the face of inner
turmoil.

Tall Elk smiled and nodded. "It is good, my daughter, and soon
their meanings will be revealed to us. While you prepare yourself for
your joining and departure, we will smoke the pipe for the Making Brothers ritual. Come," he said to his guests, "we will seek another
place to do so."

Chumani and Magaju watched the men leave before they started to
get ready for the wakan kiciyuzapi ceremony and her journey. As Chumani bathed and dressed, and while her mother packed her belongings
and other gifts, she thought about what lay ahead for her. She would
be far away from her family, best friend, and people and would see
them only on two occasions-the annual trading fair and the annual
buffalo hunt-unless something important arose to cause a visit. She
would live among strangers, in a tepee with a stranger, be possessed by
a stranger. Yet, she must be doing the right thing, especially since the
awful news of the white man's sickness had reached their ears; two
hundred fifty wasicun trappers and traders and others, along with hundreds of Indians from many bands and tribes, had died from what they
called "cholera." The only good news was that the "epidemic" had
ceased to attack either side. News had also reached them that the Crow
and Whites were getting friendlier with each other, implying a truce
was wafting on the spring winds. If that-