Wind Rider (12 page)

A chieftain named Iron Fist was the first to question Wind Rider. “Cut Nose has brought serious charges against you, my Cheyenne brother. It is a well-known fact that you are white, and Cut Nose fears you will betray our
people to the white eyes.”

“You know me, Iron Fist. We have fought side
by side in battle. Have I ever given you cause to suspect my loyalty? My heart is Cheyenne. My father is White Feather. I have counted coup
against our common enemy the Crow and
Pawnee and killed pony soldiers who want to
take our land away/’

“It is as Wind Rider says,” Coyote agreed,
nodding sagely. “I would trust Wind Rider with
my life. His chest bears scars from the Sun
Dance and his body carries wounds suffered
in battle with white eyes. What further proof
do we need?”

The men of the council nodded in agree
ment, but Iron Fist, a friend of Cut Nose, was not entirely convinced. “Cut Nose has
suggested that you marry one of our women
to prove your loyalty.” Once again the men
of the council nodded, thinking the idea a
good one.

“I do not have the bride price.”

“Cut Nose says his sister is eager to join
with you. His parents are willing, and it is a
good match. He will forfeit the bride price in
exchange for your white slave.”

Wind Rider sent Cut Nose a fulminating
glance. “Cut Nose speaks out of jealousy. The
slave is mine to do with as I please. It is the
law of our people.”

“I agree with Wind Rider,” Runs-Like-A-Deer
interjected. “He found the slave. It is his choice whether he wishes to trade her.”

“I generously offered to trade five of my
best horses for Wind Rider’s slave,” Cut Nose
charged, jumping into the fray. “It is more than
she is worth. Then I offered to give him my sister
and he refused, thereby insulting my family.”

Wind Rider sneered. “Am I here to defend my
loyalty or my right to marry when and whom I
please?”

Iron Fist nodded, then grew thoughtful. His words went right to the heart of the problem.
“It seems to me the whole issue revolves around
one insignificant female slave. The dissension
troubles me. The simple solution is to kill her. I
have seen the woman, and she does not appear
strong enough to be of any use as a slave.” Many
nodded in agreement. The death of a female
slave seemed a small sacrifice to restore peace
among two of their bravest warriors.

Wind Rider felt as if he had been gut-
punched. He would flee with Little Sparrow before he’d allow her to be tortured or killed.

Cut Nose smirked slyly. If he couldn’t have
the woman, neither should Wind Rider. “It is
a wise decision, Iron Fist.”

“But it is not the decision of the entire coun
cil,” Coyote cautioned. “We will smoke and give
the matter more thought.”

Suddenly Wind Rider leaped to his feet, his
face stark as he glared at each of the council
members in turn. “I will join with the slave.

Once she is my wife none can dispute my legal
right to her. It is not uncommon for a brave
to join with a white captive. She will give me
strong sons and daughters. As my mate she
will be integrated into the tribe and become
one of us.”

Wind Rider heard his voice and couldn’t believe the words were coming from his mouth.
Taking a wife was the last thing in the world he
wanted to do, especially a wife so frail a good wind would blow her over. She’d probably be
too weak to do all the hard work that needed
to be done or bear him strong children. In the
past, when he had pictured himself with a mate,
she never had soft white skin or hair that rivaled
the sunrise.

“You wish to join with her?” Iron Fist repeat
ed. Wind Rider nodded. “It is not unheard of
among the People, but I would advise you
against it.”

“If Wind Rider joins with the white captive,
it will add insult to injury after refusing my sister,” shouted Cut Nose, leaping to his feet and glaring at Wind Rider.

“I will have Little Sparrow,” Wind Rider
insisted. “I would prefer to have the council’s
approval, but if I do not it will not stop me.
I will leave the tribe. There are many tribes
scattered throughout the Black Hills and the Badlands in need of a strong warrior to fight
the white eyes.”

Iron Fist conferred briefly with the council members while Wind Rider and Cut Nose
glared at one another, awaiting their decision.
Wind Rider listened closely, smiling when he
became aware that the members were voting
in his favor.

“It is the council’s decision that Wind Rider should be allowed to remain with the People.
We have all seen proof of his courage in battle. Red Cloud himself trusted him enough to send
him to Denver to pose as a white man and seek
information after the attack at Sand Creek.

“Therefore, we find no cause to question his
loyalty or banish him from our tribe. And he
may join with whomever he pleases. The white
slave is his property. Though Cut Nose has
offered in good faith to buy her, it is Wind
Rider’s choice, and he has chosen to keep her.
Perhaps Wind Rider will take Spotted Doe as
a second wife to appease Cut Nose’s family.”

“I will think on it,” Wind Rider said, though
in truth he had no intention of taking a sec
ond wife. And perhaps not even a first. If he
was lucky, he could put off joining with Little Sparrow until the council forgot about it.

Iron Fist quickly laid that hope to rest.
“Tonight we will have a celebration in honor
of your joining. All the tribe will gather to
dance and feast. Since your wife has no rela
tives among us, Woman-Who-Waddles will act
as her family and help her prepare for the
celebration.”

Iron Fist dismissed the council with a wave of
his hand, and one by one the members drifted away, carrying word of the celebration. Some men went out immediately to hunt, and Wind
Rider expressed his desire to join them, but first
he had to speak to Hannah. He suspected she’d
fight the council’s decision to the bitter end. Cut Nose was so angry, he stomped away in a high rage.

Hannah was a nervous wreck by the time
the council members had drifted away. Wind
Rider’s stoic expression gave nothing away of
the council’s decision. He turned to stare at
her, his face dark and unreadable. When he
started toward her Woman-Who-Waddles melt
ed away, leaving her alone to face Wind Rider
and whatever it was that was making him so
angry. Had he been banished from the tribe? she
wondered fearfully. She’d run away or die trying
before she’d allow Cut Nose to touch her.

Reaching her side, Wind Rider grasped her arm and pulled her inside the lodge. “What is it? What has the council decided? I won’t go to
Cut Nose!”

“There is no need. The council has decided
in my favor.”

A trembling began in Hannah’s knees. She
had been so frightened... “Why are you so
angry if the council decided in your favor?”

“Some of the council members wanted to
kill you.”

Hannah clutched her throat and her eyes
grew round. “Kill me? Am I to die?” She prayed
it wouldn’t be by Wind Rider’s hand.

“Perhaps you will prefer death,” he said cryptically. “Tonight we are to join.”

Hannah stared at him. Did that mean what
she thought it meant? “I don’t understand.”

“Tonight you will become my wife. After we
are joined no one will dare question your place in the tribe.”

“Your wife! How can that be? I don’t want to marry a savage. Besides, there is no priest
to perform the ceremony.”

Wind Rider snorted in disgust. “No holy man
is necessary. According to tribal laws and tradi
tion, once the bride enters her husband’s lodge they are wed.” He didn’t say that divorce was accomplished just as easily. All a woman had to do was leave her husband’s lodge and they were considered divorced.

“I won’t do it,” Hannah insisted stubbornly.
“It won’t be legal.”

“Would you prefer death? Or perhaps,” he added with a hint of malice, “you would prefer Cut Nose. It wasn’t my wish to join with you,
but it was either that or watch them kill you.”

Hannah thought neither of those choices particularly palatable. Obviously Wind Rider
expected no argument; he went to the back
of the tepee and found his bow and quiver of arrows, then ducked beneath the flap. Hannah
followed him outside. “Where are you going?”

“Hunting. Woman-Who-Waddles will bring
you appropriate clothing for tonight and help you erect our honeymoon lodge.”

”H-honeymoon lodge?”

“It is the custom for the bride to erect a lodge
out of sight of the village where the bride and

groom can be alone to get to know one anoth
er. They are expected to remain there seven
suns or, in your tongue, one week.”

”A week?” Hannah squeaked in disbelief.
“Whatever do they do for an entire week?”

Wind Rider’s lips quirked upward. “For a
whore you are incredibly stupid. I hope you
can remember all the ways in which you pleased your white lovers. It will be interesting to learn if
white women act differently between the blan
kets than Indian maidens.”

Hannah’s mouth dropped open, shocked by
Wind Rider’s words. It hit her with stunning impact that tonight she would be expected to
lie with the handsome savage. His hands would
be all over her body; he’d touch her with his lips,
his mouth, and he’d force his way into her body.
He’d learn the truth, and never again would he
call her whore. Just the thought of what tonight
would bring sent a shiver of anticipation down
her spine. Tongue-tied, she watched him stalk
off to join his friends, who were already mount
ed and waiting for him.

Woman-Who-Waddles appeared the moment
Wind Rider left. She giggled and rolled her eyes
as she pulled Hannah through the woods to
a remote site close to the river. Two women
were already there, struggling with a large
tepee. They pulled Hannah into their midst,
showing her how to place the tent poles and
stretch the buffalo skins around the exterior.
Within an amazingly short time the honeymoon
lodge was ready for occupancy. The two women
left and returned shortly with an armful of soft skins and furs for the bed.

Grasping her hand, Woman-Who-Waddles
and the others pulled Hannah toward the
river. In short order they stripped her of the
worn doeskin tunic given to her by Spotted
Doe and ducked her beneath the placid sur
face of the water. Then they literally attacked
her with soap plant, scrubbing until her hair
and skin was sparkling clean. Wrapping her
in a soft blanket, they led her back to Wind
Rider’s tepee.

The next hours were spent grooming Hannah’s hair and dressing her in a pure
white doeskin tunic richly embroidered with
beads and lavishly fringed. Hannah exclaimed
over it with delight, which seemed to please Woman-Who-Waddles. Sometime during the
long afternoon Hannah heard the hunters
return, but since none of the women under
stood English she could not question them
about tonight’s ceremony. The drums began
beating at dusk, and Hannah was more fright
ened than she had ever been in her life.

The women left her then, all but Woman-
Who-Waddles, who hovered over Hannah like a
mother hen. Suddenly the tent flap opened, and
Spotted Doe ducked inside. She faced Hannah squarely, her face dark with hatred.

“It should be I joining with Wind Rider
today/’

“You speak English,” Hannah gasped,
astounded.

“Do you think we are all stupid? I learned
the white man’s tongue from the traders and
trappers who visit the tribe regularly. And when
the Indian agent comes I listen closely to learn
more. Wind Rider is too good for you. The coun
cil should have demanded that he join with one of the People and given you to Cut Nose. You are a slave. Cut Nose would treat you as you
deserve instead of pampering you.”