Wind Warrior (Historical Romance) (9 page)

“Thank you.”

He studied her face for a moment, with seemingly curious detachment, and then he looked away, his gaze tracing the far mountains.

“People say you most often live in the mountains, but since I have known you, you are usually here in
the village. Will you soon be returning to the mountains?”

He thought of Dull Knife, who also was spending a lot of time in the village. Wind Warrior did not trust his brother around Rain Song, even though she had the protection of the chief. “No, I will not be returning just yet.”

Two Years Later

Unlike the white race, the Blackfoot calculated the passing of time by the changing seasons. They did not measure hours by a clock, but by the amount of work accomplished in one day.

Since Rain Song had been a captive, spring had come around three times; she was now in her sixteenth year. She had no knowledge of calendar dates, and her birthdays had passed without her knowing. By her calculations, the year was 1863.

Rumors reached them that a great war had erupted in the white man’s world; only this time they were fighting each other. But that world seemed far away to Rain Song. Certainly the Blackfoot took no interest in the white man’s squabbles.

Rain Song tried to imagine what her aunt and uncle were doing. She realized they would have long ago given her up for dead.

Glancing at her stained hands, she shrugged and continued to grind the berries that she would later mix with nuts and dried meat to make pemmican. She worked silently beside Tall Woman, whose belly was swollen with child. Rain Song noticed Tall Woman tired easily these days and she tried to do most of the heavy work so her mother could rest.

She had grown to love Tall Woman, and had even developed respect for Broken Lance, although he still made her nervous. He seldom spoke to her, and that was fine with her. On the occasions that he turned his dark gaze on Rain Song, she cringed inside, thinking he still disapproved of her.

“Would you like a son or daughter?” Rain Song asked, pausing in her work.

Tall Woman touched her belly. “I would like to give my husband a son, I already have a daughter.”

“What was she like, your daughter who died?”

“Although she was nothing like you in appearance, you remind me of Blue Dawn. She was kind and gentle and I loved her.”

Chinook lay at Rain Song’s feet, contented to be near her. No longer did Rain Song feel the deepseated loneliness that had marked her early days with the Blackfoot. The wolf was like her shadow—Chinook was always at her side, even sleeping beside her at night.

At first Broken Lance had grumbled about sharing his tipi with a wolf, but he soon accepted Chinook. Rain Song had once seen him lay his hand on the wolf’s head, but he removed it and left the tipi when he saw she was watching him.

“I always wanted a brother or sister.”

“Rain Song, this child will be a gift to us all.” Tall Woman gently touched Rain Song’s cheek. “As a daughter you are a great joy to me, and you have brought happiness back into the chief’s tipi.” Tall Woman pushed a damp strand of hair off Rain Song’s forehead. “I do not know what I would do without your help. This child I carry drains my energy. You
have assumed the bulk of the work, and I am grateful, and although your father has not said so, I know he appreciates your easing my burdens.”

For reasons Rain Song didn’t understand, she wanted to win Broken Lance’s approval. But somehow she never seemed to do the right thing as far as he was concerned. In all the time she had lived in his tipi, Broken Lance had not once smiled at her, or called her by name.

Returning to her work, she wondered what Aunt Cora was doing at the moment. Had Uncle Matt gone to war? Despite her determination not to forget her old life, many things were becoming distant memories. In the beginning Rain Song had stayed true to her vow to remember details about her life before she had become a captive. But lately she often forgot her nightly ritual of repeating her white name. The past was slipping away from her as she became more immersed in the Blackfoot way of life.

“I have heard Spotted Flower is expecting her second child,” Tall Woman observed. “I have also heard she is not happy about it.”

“She has reason to be unhappy. Everyone knows Charging Bull beats her,” Rain Song said, looking into Tall Woman’s eyes. “I would not want to live with a man like him.”

“Daughter, not all Blackfoot men are like Charging Bull, just as not all white men are like the ones who killed my daughter. Spotted Flower brings much of the harm on herself. It is said she complains and rebels against her husband. I have seen for myself that she neglects her baby daughter, and Yellow Bird has taken the child as her own.”

Rain Song scooped up the crushed berries and added them to the meat mixture. “In many ways I pity her—she saw her mother die, and she does not know if the rest of her family escaped the day we were taken captive. Then she was forced to be the wife of a man she fears and despises. I would act no differently if I were in her place.”

“Yes, you would, daughter. You are nothing like her.”

“Do you think…will I…be forced to wed a man I do not like?”

Tall Woman looked pensive. “If it is within my power, you will only be given to a man you admire.”

“Whenever Dull Knife is in the village, he watches me, and it frightens me.”

“I like him no more than you do,” Tall Woman admitted. “Just make certain you are never alone with him,” she warned.

Feeling relieved, Rain Song took more dried berries from her doeskin bag and began pounding them into powder. She was startled when Broken Lance entered the tipi, took his bow from a hook, and paused to speak to his wife.

“There is trouble. Wind Warrior has warned that we will be flooded and lives will be lost if we do not move the village away from the river.”

Tall Woman looked puzzled. “Why is there trouble? Wind Warrior’s advice is always sound.”

The chief was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Dull Knife has challenged his brother and called him a coward. He says anyone who follows Wind Warrior is also a coward. I must try to keep the brothers from disturbing the peace of the
village. People are divided in their loyalties. Most of them will follow Wind Warrior, but some have decided to remain behind with Dull Knife.”

“Which brother will we follow, my husband?”

“My concern is for the people,” he said, his eyes dropping to his wife’s extended waistline. “I will heed Wind Warrior’s warning.”

“We always knew the day would come when those two brothers would go head to head.”

Broken Lance nodded. “That day is here. I go now to speak to the elders.” He turned his attention to Rain Song. “Help your mother break camp and load the travois. We depart at sunup tomorrow.”

Tall Woman watched her husband leave. “I had thought to have my baby here in this place, where I was born.”

Quickly mixing the last of the pemmican so she could pack up the tipi, Rain Song asked, “Do you believe Wind Warrior?”

“I do. He would not have us move the village unless there was a good reason. The difference between the two brothers is Dull Knife runs among the buffalo to show the other warriors his courage so he can boast about it—Wind Warrior helps our warriors find the herds so we will not starve.”

“Why would anyone trust Dull Knife?”

Tall Woman bent to fold a robe. “Trust him or not, he is a great warrior. His friends, who are also strong warriors, accept his opinion. I fear for the safety of their families.”

Though Wind Warrior was only nineteen winters old, his strength and wisdom were already legendary, and his name was spoken with reverence among
the Blackfoot. When he came striding through the village, his dark hair hanging down his muscled shoulders, every maiden stared at him with her heart in her eyes, and so did Rain Song. But Wind Warrior had chosen a solitary life in service to his tribe. There were times when Rain Song felt he had burdens that lay heavily on his mind. She had seen it in his eyes and wished she could help him.

She touched Chinook’s head, as she often did when she thought of Wind Warrior. Through her connection to the wolf, she somehow felt she had a part of him with her.

Rain Song took a heavy cooking pot from Tall Woman and set it outside the tipi to be loaded on the travois. They must be ready to leave by morning.

Later in the afternoon, when the tipi had been taken down and all their possessions packed, Tall Woman and Rain Song walked through the village to see if any of the other women needed help. Rain Song counted five tipis that had not been struck—they belonged to the people who had decided to remain with Dull Knife.

They passed Charging Bull’s tipi. Rain Song was relieved to see Spotted Flower packing their belongings.

“Would you like us to help you?” Tall Woman asked.

Spotted Flower did not even look up. “I do not need
your
help.”

Mother and daughter looked at each other and walked away.

“How can Wind Warrior know there will be a flood?” Rain Song asked.

Tall Woman paused to gaze at the sunset. “There are those who say he sees things before they happen, although he denies he has that power.” She took Rain Song’s arm and led her toward a group of men. “Let us find out for ourselves.”

Broken Lance stood among the warriors, as did Wind Warrior and Dull Knife. Dull Knife was speaking loudly, waving his arms about, stabbing a finger against Wind Warrior’s chest.

“Why do you foolish people listen to the ravings of my
younger
brother? Have I not proved my worthiness? Those of you who follow him will endure the scalding heat of the prairie while the rest of us will be situated here beside the Milk River, where it is cooler. Do not come complaining to me when you discover my brother has misled you. Do you believe he can see tomorrow? I know he cannot.”

Murmurs of dissent echoed through the crowd. Broken Lance held up his hand, calling for silence. “Let us hear what Wind Warrior has to say.”

Rain Song fixed her gaze on the young warrior, and her heart pounded inside her. She would follow him anywhere he led. For a moment, their eyes met, and then he looked away.

“I can no more see the future than any one of you. This I will tell you. I was climbing in the mountains when I saw a rock slide blocking the stream that brings the water to the river. I would have cleared the boulders away, but they were too heavy for six men to lift. Not even in a full season could the rocks
be removed. I watched the force of the stream building up behind the rock slide—it will not be many days before the force of the water is so great, it will break through the boulders and flood this entire area. I say this as the truth.”

Dull Knife gripped his brother’s arm. “Do not believe him. Stay with me. I will keep you all safe.”

Stepping forward, Broken Lance shook his head. “As your chief, I can only advise you. As for me, I am taking my wife, daughter, and unborn child to the prairie. I advise the rest of you to do the same. If there was time, we would go into the mountains and see for ourselves what Wind Warrior has seen.”

Rain Song stared at Broken Lance. It was the first time he had referred to her as his daughter, and her heart swelled with pride.

“I go with Wind Warrior,” a strong voice called out. A tall man with long white hair pushed his way through the crowd. “If you want to live, you should also heed Wind Warrior’s warnings.”

“Father,” Dull Knife said contemptuously.

Wind Warrior looked at his father sadly. For him to return from Canada at this moment was unfortunate. It hurt him that White Owl had so publicly chosen between his two sons. Wind Warrior knew that that choice had cost his father.

“As you all know,” White Owl said, “I led some of our people to settle in Canada. At last I am home to stay.” White Owl looked meaningfully at Broken Lance and then stepped between his two sons, looking first at the elder and then the younger. “What is happening here today is about much more than whether or not the river will flood.”

“And just what do you think is happening?” Dull Knife wanted to know.

White Owl touched Dull Knife on the shoulder. “From what I just heard, you are attempting to cause division between our people.”

“No, not I,” Dull Knife stated forcefully. “It is Wind Warrior who wants to drive them to the prairie, where there is much greater danger than here.”

“My father,” Wind Warrior said. “No one expects you to choose between your sons, least of all me.”

“Our father has already chosen,” Dull Knife hissed.

His hate-filled gaze suddenly settled on Rain Song. She had seen that menacing look before, when he had killed Susan.

“You, white girl,” Dull Knife called out, moving toward her. “Will you remain here with those of us who do not want to follow Wind Warrior? Do you want to spend the heat of the season on the dry prairie and die without water?”

Chinook pressed her body against Rain Song and stared into her face, as if she knew something was wrong. Then the wolf whipped her head around, her golden eyes fixed on Dull Knife—the bristles on her neck standing up, her teeth bared. Rain Song placed a calming hand on the wolf’s head while she glared at Dull Knife and stepped closer to Tall Woman. “I do as my father commands,” she answered coldly.

“So,” Dull Knife said, anger reddening his face. “You go with those who believe my brother. I want you to remember I offered you the chance to remain safe.”

Rain Song turned her head, wishing Dull Knife had not singled her out. She watched as two families
who had chosen to stay by the river moved to stand with the ones who were going to the prairie. Tall Woman touched Rain Song’s arm and motioned that the two of them should leave.

Rain Song felt drained from the hostility she had just witnessed. “I do not understand why anyone would remain with Dull Knife.”

They had reached the river and both stood watching the calm water lapping against the bank. “Dull Knife is making an attempt to grab power. And he believes he will win. My fear is what he will do next to obtain that power.”

“What do you mean?”

“I fear his first victim will be his brother.” Tall Woman’s brow furrowed. “Then he will come after my husband, because Broken Lance sided against him. I wonder if he will even seek revenge on his own father”