A twig snapped. Shadow Elk silenced. Two Moons froze at his spot before the fire. Both men glanced to the trees. Two Moons began to rise. Shadow Elk raised a hand, stopping him. Lightly he tapped his chest, then swiftly rose to his feet.
Gabrielle's heart raced. Her shoulders knotted. All this talk of evil set her nerves on edge.
With the grace of a sleek panther, Shadow Elk disappeared into the wooded darkness.
Two Moons stood. His knife poised ready to attack, his gaze followed his friend. Was he going to leave her? Struggling, she stood.
He glanced at her.
She raised her bound hands.
His body tense, he hesitated for a moment before he reached her side.
The rope fell to the ground.
Their gazes met.
The snap of a branch brought a demand of silence to his eyes. He spun around, ready for his attacker. Nothing happened. Quickly, silently he followed in his friend's footsteps.
Shadow Elk met him at the edge of the woods. “It is just an animal that hunts for food in the night. I have seen nothing else.”
With a nod, Two Moons acknowledged his friend's words. He slipped his knife back in its sheath, retraced his steps, and knelt before the fire.
From her place slightly opposite Two Moons and the crackling flames, Gabrielle watched as he began dipping his fingers into the small bowls at his side. He brought his hands to his face. As his fingers left a striped trail across his cheeks, she listened to Shadow Elk's explanation.
“Red, blue, green and yellow are the colors of the sun, the sky, the earth and the rock. Black is for the evil forces that lurk about.”
Smoke wafted in her eyes causing them to water. Her vision blurred. The flames from the fire seemed to come alive, their shadows leaping to the ground like a Disney cartoon.
Two Moons stood and reached upward.
Shadow Elk pointed to him. “Did you know that when you raise your arms to the sky like that it is like touching the face of Wankan Tanka, our creator? It is over,” he whispered in her ear. “Two Moons' medicine is good.” He touched her arm lightly. “Next time you will be more careful. Aye?”
Concern for his friend’s wellbeing, touched her deeply. “You are a good friend to him. I hope he realizes that.”
Shadow Elk smiled. His gaze rested on Two Moons. Bent over the flames, he removed the medicine bag that hung on a stick in the fire's center. Shadow Elk stood and walked over. After a brief conversation he went to his horse, reached into his satchel and pulled out what even from her distance looked like a can.
Gabrielle's stomach growled. Her mouth salivated. Other than a biscuit and a small bowl of soup, she had been too excited to eat back at the fort and that had been hours ago.
Two Moons glanced at her, a shadow of annoyance crossed his face. She found herself instantly irritated. What was his problem? He wasn't the one who had been kidnapped, tossed about like a bag of beans, then dumped, God knew where in the dead of morning. “Go to hell,” she snapped, then wheeled around.
Her back stiff, she marched back over to the tree and sat. A hand touched her shoulder. She turned with a start.
“Come.” Shadow Elk motioned that she rise and go with him to the fire. “Eat.”
“I'm not hungry.” She jerked her head back to face the tree.
Shadow Elk placed his hand on her shoulder. “You are hungry, no?”
“No.” She wouldn't sit and eat with them no matter what. How dare he be annoyed with her. He still thought this whole kidnapping thing was her fault!
“Leave her to her hunger.” Two Moons crossed before her, then sat facing her.
She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Big brute. She watched him open the can with his knife.
A frown on his face, Shadow Elk joined his friend.
Annoyed, she didn't understand what the two were saying, she glanced away. Once again her stomach growled. She stole the men a quick glance. A faint smile tipped Shadow Elk's mouth as he nodded in agreement at something Two Moons said.
Very slowly Two Moons stuck his fingers into the can. Leisurely he swirled the can's contents. He looked up. His eyes gleamed like black crystallized rock. Obsidian. That was it, Gabrielle thought, remembering the shiny arrowheads she had seen. A sharp hunger pain attacked her stomach.
“Mmm…” Two Moons' sensuous moan maddening, she grit her teeth. Powerless to resist, she glanced back at him. Peach juice oozed from his lips and dribbled down his chin. A sly smile tipped his mouth as he studied her. He lifted the can, offering it to her.
“No, thank you. I'd rather starve.”
With a shrug, he turned and offered the can to Shadow Elk, who in turn dipped his fingers into the peaches and drew out a slice. “Such sweetness I have never tasted.” Shadow Elk swiped his hand across his mouth. “I must thank the Great Spirits for guiding me to the Blue Coats' food lodge. No?” He winked and jabbed Two Moons in the ribs.
Gabrielle licked her lips. Two Moons took another slice. She detected laughter in his eyes as he brought the peach to his mouth. With deliberate slowness he sucked the wedge between his teeth, then smacked his lips, satisfied.
“It is too bad you are not hungry.” He waved the can before her nose, then quickly wrenched it away, offering it back to Shadow Elk.
She glanced from one man to the other as they slurped up the peaches like a bunch of hungry hogs. Despite her hunger and annoyance, it took every ounce of her self-control not to laugh. She glanced away, then back.
“You are sure you are not hungry?” Two Moons dark brows arched mischievously. “Smell their sweetness.” He waved his hand before the can, blowing imaginary fumes to her.
She bit the inside of her lip, debating. The bum. From the silly smirk on his face, he knew he had her.
Before he had a chance to retract the can, Gabrielle snatched the tin away. She shoved the slices into her mouth two at a time, hungrily devouring the delicacy without even tasting it. She paused, taking a moment to swallow, then glanced up. A grin of triumph pursed his lips. Shadow Elk's smile beamed from ear to ear. Realizing her actions and how she must look, she suppressed a giggle.
Instantaneously, Two Moons threw back his head and burst out laughing. Shadow Elk followed, his laughter rippling through the air, mingling with the chuckles of Two Moons.
“You big brutes.” She reached to Two Moons and rapped his arm. Sweet sticky juice dripped from her mouth. She wiped her lips with her fingers. The sound of their contagious laughter filled her ears and shattered the last of her animosity. Unable to suppress the hysterics forming in her chest, she gave in to the moment and joined in.
“I did good, yeah?” Two Moons asked.
“Yeah. You did.” She offered the can and a smile to him.
“No. You eat. At last you have made your stomach happy. That is good.” He stood.
“Like a sparrow, that one eats,” Shadow Elk joked as he, too, stood and took a step behind Two Moons.
Bending forward, Two Moons offered his hand to her.
A swooshing sound like the parting of air, passed her ear. A blur of movement whizzed over Two Moons’ shoulder from behind her.
The sharp intake of Shadow Elk's breath tore her gaze to the man behind Two Moons. Shock registered on Shadow Elk's face as he clutched the arrow piercing his heart. Blood poured.
A scream tore from her lips.
Shadow Elk stumbled forward.
Two Moons dropped her hand, turned and caught Shadow Elk’s slumped body into his arms. Her mind numb, her legs paralyzed, Gabrielle struggled to her feet as Two Moons gently laid Shadow Elk to the ground. She didn't realize she was screaming until Two Moons grabbed her shoulders and shook them. “Be still.”
She swallowed her cry and stared down at Shadow Elk.
His eyes closed, his breathing shallowed.
“It's all my fault.” She dropped to her knees. Tears fell uncontrollably. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” She didn't dare touch him. She
couldn't. Guilt's twisted hand ripped through her mind. If she hadn't gone with Little Wolf…
“Do not blame yourself, little sparrow.” All but Shadow Elk's weak smile blackened before her. He reached out and touched her arm lightly. “You do not know our ways.” His hand dropped to his chest. He closed his eyes. His breathing became shallower.
“My friend do not leave me,” Two Moons pleaded. “You must not die. Not now.”
Gabrielle peered at Two Moons through a haze of tears. Pain twisted his features-made his cheeks hollow. Fear widened his eyes. He grabbed Shadow Elks’ hand and squeezed. “Hold on my brother.” His voice cracked. “I need you. There is much hunting to be done by the two of us.”
He reached for the arrow.
Shadow Elk opened his eyes. “Later my brother. She is in danger. You must go. Find the one who has done this …” He wheezed. His eyes closed for a brief second. “Bring back a piece of his scalp for me.” His voice jagged-weak-breathless, he wheezed again.
Two Moons gripped the arrow tighter. “This must come out now. I will not leave you. I-”
“This is a foolish thing. Your blood…” Shadow Elk paused for a moment, catching his breath, “… and that of hers, I do not wish beside me. You must listen to me.” He struggled to rise. A shot of pain clenched his chest. He dropped back, his head to the ground.
Her movements jerky, Gabrielle pulled Two Moons' tunic over her shoulders, then gently lifted Shadow Elk's head and slipped the garment beneath it. His eyes were warm with thanks before he shifted his gaze back to Two Moons.
“My brother. I cannot bring the sunshine, only she can. Only with the knowledge you can give--”
She couldn't stand seeing his pain. She glanced away, listening to his words and understanding little.
A moment passed before Shadow Elk continued. “Will you share the same path” His voice weak, his breathing shallow, he took an unsteady breath. “Go find him before it is too late.”
It looked as if Two Moons would protest; then hesitantly he rose. His gait swift, his steps weightless, he ran into the woods, disappearing into the darkness. But Gabrielle knew his heart was heavy.
Chapter Thirteen
Two Moons broke through the forest only to stop dead in his tracks at the edge of the camp. He glanced at Shadow Elk, then back at her as though he was afraid-afraid of the outcome. Nauseating despair churned, rising in Gabrielle's throat. Like a marionette, his movement’s stiff and jerky, Two Moons made his way toward her and stopped. He glanced down at Shadow Elk. Disbelief spread across his face.
She swallowed with difficulty. “I'm sorry.” Her words faded into the silence.
Two Moons fell to his knees. The despairing anguish contorting his face as he stared down at his friend tore at her heart.
“No. It cannot be so.” His words seemed strangled in his throat. Like a madman, his movement’s swift, wild, crazed, he grabbed the arrow buried in Shadow Elk's chest.
“I will not let you die. Hold on, my brother… Kiktá yo.”
Twisting and yanking, he wrenched the deadly weapon free, then threw it to the ground. Torment curled his lower lip. Raw pain swelled in his eyes as he began to shake Shadow Elk's limp body. “I will not let you die. You cannot die. Kiktá yo -- “His voice cracked.
Blood poured from the wound.
Gabrielle watched in horrifying silence. Helplessness and misery, old familiar friends, circled above her like vultures, their gnawing bite, stronger than anything she had ever felt before.
Words tumbled from his mouth; Lakota words she didn't understand, spoken with tenderness, filled with suffering and despair. Two Moons’ broad shoulders heaved as he tried to shake life's breath back into his friend.
“Two Moons. Stop.” She reached out and gripped his arms. He lifted his gaze to hers; a hollow gaze, as lifeless as the man whose body he held in his hands. “It's over. Please. Let him rest,” she whispered.
He shuddered, drew in a sharp breath. Seemingly seeing, yet hearing nothing, he stared at her, his black eyes dull. Then he placed Shadow Elk to the ground.
Her fingers slowly slipped from his arms as he drew away from her and stood. He turned into the shadows, away from the light of the fire. His shoulders slumped. His head bowed and the tears, Gabrielle knew he tried to hide, fell in silence.
Time seemed suspended. The darkness consumed her. She felt his tears in her own eyes. She started to rise, but hesitated. What could she say? That she knew what it was like to lose someone you loved? That she understood his pain? Would he welcome her comfort or shun her?
He turned, his face a mask of apathy. He slipped out his knife. Again, he fell to his knees before Shadow Elk.
Then, before she could anticipate his next move, let alone stop him, he began to gouge his arms.
Horrified, she jumped up and ran to his side. “Oh my God. Stop. What are you doing?” She reached out to stop him.
The blade froze on his arm. His eyes riveted, his message was only too clear: stay back, mind your own business.
She clamped her trembling hand over her mouth, sickened by the blood running down his elbows.
He sliced off the leather fringes that hung from his buckskin pants, the feathers and beads that hung from his hair. To endure the agony of those self-inflicted slashes, to give up all those worldly adornments, that was his way of showing his respect and grief.
The fire crackled. A damp breeze pricked the hair on her arms. Gabrielle shivered, but not from the cold. Death was knocking on her door once again, wrenching at her heart, dredging up memories-so many painful memories. She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Did you find-”
“No.”
Stoically he stood and trudged toward the trees to begin the long and tedious labor of preparing a scaffold, where they would lay Shadow Elk’s body to rest.
Gabrielle hurried to his side. With open arms, she offered her help. Without a word he cut the branches from the young saplings and placed the slender limbs across her forearms. She worked by his side holding the branches together as he interweaved rope and wood to form the platform. With tears in her eyes, she watched as he prepared Shadow Elk's body, dressing him in his finest clothes-a warrior's clothing, always kept at his side to proudly wear in battle or to meet his maker.
Two Moons dressed his friend's hair with beaded ornaments and wrapped Shadow Elk, along with his knife, bow, arrow and shield in several robes of buffalo hides. He placed him on the platform and with ropes, he had slung over the branches of a big tree, he hoisted the body to the high boughs to keep it safe from animals.
With his arms raised to the sky, he began to pray. His heart-piercing cries tore through the early morning’s stillness.
For hours Gabrielle sat before the scaffold, listening to Two Moons' prayers. Finally, at the point of being voiceless, he stopped. Exhausted, he lowered his arms, collapsed to his knees and hung his head in silence. Inhaling deeply, his shoulders slumped for a final time; then he straightened. He reached for the fur strip that bound his hair and untied his braids, all but one thin braid that hung to his chest from the nape of his neck.
Gabrielle knew that above all else, a Sioux’s pride and joy was his hair. They believed their hair was somehow connected to the mystery of life; it was an extension of their soul and held great power. To give up a part was to weaken their defenses.
He brought the knife to his ear.
Her breath held in her throat. She wanted to reach out and stop him. She clenched her fist by her side. Her fingernails cut into her palm. He knew what he was doing.
The scalp, or lock of hair in the hands of an enemy could cause destruction and allow his adversary supremacy over all.
His braid fell to the ground.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she watched him stiffly walk away and mount his horse.
With just a flick of his wrist, that simple act of total surrender said more about the man than all the bloody slices crisscrossing up and down his arms. Two Moons in a final tribute
of his love and devotion, gave up to his friend a part of his own safety-a part of his life.
He beckoned that she come to him, and she did.
With Shadow Elk's horse following slowly behind them, Gabrielle and Two Moons rode away, leaving Shadow Elk alone in respectful solitude, as the pink glow of sunrise spilled over the horizon, welcoming the new day to come.
****
Despite the bright sunlight shining in through the skylight above him, Roy awoke feeling strangely depressed. He couldn't really find a reason for feeling the way he did. His truck was fixable and he, other than a few bumps and bruises, was alive. He had lived through a lot worse. So why the deep melancholy? The overwhelming sadness swelling in the hollow of his chest felt so familiar. He closed his eyes.
An image of his mother's smiling face filled the darkness. She threw him a ball and he could see himself swing. He could almost hear her laughter as she tried in vain to tag him out, allowing him to run to home base; just another day in a six-year-old's life.
His eyes misted as an image of his mother slumped over a table, with an empty whiskey bottle in one hand and an empty glass in the other, replaced his happy memory. Opening his eyes, he came back to reality.
He sat up.
“You must learn from the past.”
The old man's words threw him completely. “What?”
John Raven Wing entered the room, shuffled over and handed him a cup of tea. “The value of remembering the past is in taking that knowledge and learning from it.”
Roy stared up at him, noticing for the first time that the iris in one of John's eyes was so dark that it blended with his pupil; while the other eye, a lighter brown, was flecked with gold.
John turned away without a word and ambled over to a table tucked in the corner of the room.
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