White Dusk (18 page)

Small Bird pulled away, but he held her tight. His lips came down on hers.

Sighing when at last he broke the kiss, she stroked one wet finger down his cheek. “Kissing like that will lead to more—” She broke off, blushing.

He shifted her until her legs were wrapped around his waist. “Loving?”

Feeling the hard tip of him against her belly, she deliberately moved her body up and down until Swift Foot held her still. “You seem to have need of me, my husband,” she said.

“That I do, wife. That I do.”

Moon Fire slipped through the darkness. She’d almost given up on Many Horns coming for her. Each night, she strode around the back edge of camp, but he didn’t come. His absence, she feared, meant he’d died in the battle.

The thought brought tears to her eyes and anger to her heart. She paced, keeping to the shadows, then paused to stand with her back resting against a willow. Another wasted night. If Many Horns didn’t come soon, it would be too late. Her parents were planning a double wedding.

An arm snaked out and covered her mouth, and she tried to scream. “Quiet,” a voice ordered.

Moon Fire sagged with relief. Then she turned. “Many Horns! You are alive!” His hand motioned for silence. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her from shadow to shadow until they were far from camp. He pulled her down into the flat, grassy space behind a boulder.

Whipping off his head covering, he stared down at Moon Fire. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You came for me,” she said. “We will go away. Tonight.”

Many Horns kissed her. He nibbled her lips. “Not yet.”

Moon Fire shook her head. “It must be. My time grows short. My father has accepted a marriage offer. We must elope.”

“We will, my lovely one. But in good time. We have plans to make.”

“What kind of plans?” she asked. But Many Horns didn’t answer. His hand had already found her wet and willing.

“Later,” he whispered, easing himself out of his breechclout into her. “Later.”

Moon Fire gave herself over to his demands. Whatever he asked, she’d do. She loved this man, and needed him desperately.

Over the next two weeks, Swift Foot organized daily hunts. Two bands of warriors rode out each day and usually returned before dark. Normally hunters followed the game and were often gone for long stretches at a time, but with the unease and fear of another attack, none of the men wanted to be away for much more than one night.

Small Bird watched her husband ride away. It had been more than three weeks since the battle that had done so much damage. Most everyone believed that the Miniconjou had left to return to their homelands and wouldn’t return until next summer. But her husband refused to let down his guard. He would not make the mistake of underestimating his enemy again.

Spending the morning tanning hides, Small Bird straightened as several children ran past. A small smile lit her lips. She’d missed her monthly flow, which she hoped meant she was with child. Just the thought of Swift Foot’s babe growing inside her made her feel like dancing.

Across the way, Makatah and Shy Mouse worked side by side, stretching out a hide to dry. “Look at her,” Shy Mouse called, and giggled. “She is thinking of her husband again.”

Small Bird met Makatah’s gaze. Her cousin studied her, then smiled in understanding. “Pull harder, sister, and leave our cousin to her work.”

Unable to resist her own bit of teasing, Small Bird grinned. “I have seen you, too, staring off into space often enough these last few days, Shy Mouse. Who has caught
your
eye?”

Shy Mouse blushed and busied herself.

Makatah laughed. “I think more than one warrior has caught my sister’s eye. Every night a different suitor comes to visit.”

Moon Fire’s arrival ended the good-natured teasing. Breathless, the young beauty stopped in front of Small Bird. “Your mother needs you, cousin.”

Small Bird, along with Makatah and Shy Mouse, stood. “What happened, Moon Fire? Where is she?”

“She fell and injured her foot while gathering wood. Come quickly.”

Wiping her hands with a wet cloth, Small Bird felt her heart race. Her mother hadn’t done well since losing her mate. She had remained in a terrible depression, though it had eased some in the past few days. “I will come,” she said.

“We will come with you,” Makatah suggested.

Moon Fire shook her head. “My mother is with her. She asks only for her daughter.”

Small Bird nodded. “Wait here,” she told her cousins. Hurrying away, she turned. She didn’t want them to think she didn’t appreciate their concern.

Makatah waved her onward. “Go. Do not keep Yellow Robe waiting.”

Moon Fire led the way from camp, following the stream. Small Bird frowned. Her mother normally stayed close, as they all had been ordered to do.

“Are you sure she came so far, Moon Fire?” she asked. They had left the vicinity of camp and were well out of sight of any of her people.

“Yes.” Moon Fire pointed. “She is resting near those trees.”

Small Bird hurried. Why had her mother come here?

When she got to the small stand of trees, she stopped and glanced around.
“Ina? Ina?”
she called to her mother, worried. Had the woman wandered off? Where was Moon Fire’s mother?

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her cousin hanging back, a strange look on the girl’s face. “Help me find her,” she called out.

Going between two trees, she screamed when a large arm wrapped around her neck from behind. It tossed her to the ground. “Run, Moon Fire!” she cried. “Get help! Get—” Her voice was muffled as her face was pushed into the dust.

Small Bird kicked out and tried to roll free, but a large body held her effortlessly. In short order, her assailant had her bound, then yanked her to her feet. To Small Bird’s shock, she saw Moon Fire still calmly standing there. Her cousin stared at her with a satisfied expression on her face.

“What is going on, Moon Fire?” she asked. Glancing over her shoulder, she frowned. “Who is this? Many Horns?”

Laughing, Moon Fire shoved Small Bird, sending her crashing down across the rocky ground. As Small Bird regained her feet, Moon Fire hung on the strange warrior’s arm. “Yes, this is Many Horns,” she said. “He has come to take me away.” She stared at the warrior with adoration.

Small Bird studied Many Horns. She hadn’t seen him but had heard of his attempts to bring peace. But that had all gone sour. She turned her amazed glare to Moon Fire when she realized her cousin had lied to her, drawn her to the enemy. “You are a traitor!” she gasped.

“Now don’t be difficult, cousin. You got what you wanted. Why shouldn’t I have what I want?”

“You have betrayed us. Your own family!” Shock was turning to anger. “Swift Foot will deal harshly with you,” she promised.

Moon Fire dismissed Small Bird’s words. “He has to find us first,” she scoffed.

Many Horns interrupted. “Enough. We have far to go.” He shoved Small Bird toward the trees in the distance. Picking up a sack, he pulled out an arrow and tossed it down several feet from where he stood. He picked out a small medicine bag and dropped that as well. Then he strode over to Small Bird. He studied her.

She refused to show fear. Her husband would find her.

When Many Horns reached out and tore the feathered thong from her head, yanking out a hank of hair, Small Bird winced, tears springing to her eyes. The feathers she wore matched the ones Swift Foot did. Many Horns tossed those feathers and strands of hair where he’d dropped the other items.

Returning to her, he grabbed Small Bird’s arm and started walking, dragging her with him. Soon they reached a tree where two horses were tied, and he swung her up onto one and mounted behind her. To her shock, she saw a small boy bound and gagged on the ground.

“Get on the other horse and take the brat,” Many Horns ordered Moon Fire. “We need to get out of here.”

Moon Fire glanced from her lover to Small Bird. She frowned, her hands going to her hips. “Why can’t
she
hold the brat and ride this horse?”

Many Horns smiled grimly. “Your cousin might try to ride off, love. The plan has been set into motion. We cannot risk anything going wrong.”

Unhappy but following orders, Moon Fire mounted. She gave her cousin a jealous look. “Just remember that you are mine, Many Horns.”

He lifted a brow. “Do you doubt me?” he asked. Anger edged his tone.

“No.” Her eyes went to him, then returned to her cousin.

Small Bird saw the doubt and the jealousy there. “Swift Foot will come,” she said in a snarl. “Make no mistake of that.”

Behind her, Many Horns tightened his hold. “I am counting on that, girl. I am counting on that.”

After a disappointing afternoon and having to return empty-handed, Swift Foot stalked through his camp. The buzz of usual activity reassured him that nothing had gone amiss in his absence: women prepared meals, children ran and laughed. Already things were returning to normal—as normal as possible with so many recent deaths.

His gaze shifted to his tipi, where there was no cookfire burning. He looked around the camp. Though he didn’t see Small Bird, he wasn’t worried. Since becoming his wife, she’d taken her tribal duties seriously, dividing her time equally between helping her mother and others in need and her spousal duties such as cooking his dinner.

After caring for his horse, Swift Foot turned the animal out into the herd. Skirting the camp, he paused at Willow Song’s tipi. Seeing the flap open, he stopped. No one answered his call. Poking his head in, he saw that his cousin wasn’t there.

He shook his head. No one had seen Lone Warrior since last night. Likely the pair had run off. He smiled. Though Kills Many Crows spoke angrily of Lone Warrior’s attentions, fearing the man meant to use Willow Song for some odd reason, Swift Foot wasn’t worried. He trusted Lone Warrior.

Cutting through the camp, he spotted Gray Woman tending to her dog and puppies. He stopped, easily picking out the two that belonged to his wife. Their bellies were rounded and they slept contentedly.

Bending down, he stroked their backs. “I am surprised to find them here,” he said to Gray Woman.

The old lady finished giving the mother dog her meal of fat, bones and broth. “She has not come for them yet.”

“She must be busy today,” he guessed.

“The wife of our chief is kind and generous,” Gray Woman agreed. “That always keeps her busy.”

Swift Foot continued on his way. As suspected, Small Bird was not in their tipi. He went to her mother’s. No one was there, either. Perhaps, he’d find his wife and her mother with their female relatives.

Walking away from Yellow Robe’s tipi, he almost bumped into Makatah, who was headed his way with a big bowl of steaming meat. “How is my aunt?” his wife’s cousin asked. “I bring her food so she does not have to walk on her weak ankle.”

Swift Foot tipped his head to the side. “She is not home.”

“Oh. Then she must be with Small Bird in your tipi.”

Glancing around, Swift Foot spotted Shy Mouse and Yellow Quail leaning on their willow backrests as they ate. In front of the tipi beside theirs, Moon Fire’s family was also eating. There was no sign of his wife, or of his mother by marriage.

“What is this about her foot? Did Yellow Robe fall?”

Makatah nodded. “Moon Fire came to fetch Small Bird to help her.”

“Do you know where they went? What time?”

“That way.” The woman pointed. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Worry suddenly churned Swift Foot’s gut. He’d told Small Bird not to leave the immediate vicinity of camp—even to bathe. But she would have left if her mother needed her, or if anyone else did. He pondered his choices.

“Something is wrong,” Makatah said. She stumbled as she walked up to him.

Steadying her, he took the bowl of hot food from Makatah. “I will go search for them.”

Matoluta, coming up behind to see what was going on, asked, “What is going on?” Though he’d threatened to leave the tribe, as had several others, none had carried out the threat. But anger still vibrated through him. It was in his voice.

Makatah took the bowl back from Swift Foot. “My husband will go with you to look for your wife. If something is wrong, you will need help.”

Swift Foot nodded, but waited for Matoluta to give his consent.

When Makatah elbowed her husband none too gently, he drew himself up. “I will go with my chief,” he said.

“Let us go, then.”

Matoluta began calling out to others, telling them that Small Bird was missing. Before Swift Foot got out of camp, he had half a dozen warriors marching at his side and behind him.

He found footprints from where his wife had been working, and he followed them. When he arrived at a stand of trees, he called out. He saw signs of a struggle. His blood went cold. Lifting feathers that matched the ones he wore in his hair, fingering the long strands of blue-black hair, he brought it all to his face. “We will find you, wife,” he promised.

“Look at this.” Matoluta held up an arrow and pointed to a medicine bag lying on the ground.

Swift Foot stared down at the small pouch with a hawk’s profile painted on it. Red fury streamed through him.

Hawk Eyes had taken Small Bird!

Turning, Swift Foot ran back to camp. The rest followed but could not keep up. He did not wait. He had no time to lose. He had to find Small Bird. His heart raced. Fear burned through each vein in his body.

This enemy had killed his parents. They had killed so many to get to him, and now they had taken his wife. He knew they would not hesitate to kill her.

Hawk Eyes rode hard, and his men followed the clear tracks. They headed north, toward the enemy—toward where Many Horns had tracked them. Fury pushed him. Far into the night they’d gone. Somehow the enemy had found them, and they’d taken his son.

Once and for all, it was time to put an end to this battle. No one harmed those under his protection—especially his family.

His wife had been found, knocked unconscious. She’d been taken far to the south and abandoned. But his son was gone. Hawk Eyes knew who was responsible. The false trail did not fool him; only Swift Foot had the guts to do such a deed.

Many Horns had been right: Swift Foot wanted war. He would get it. To the last man if need be.