by Karen Kay
“I am prepared to take them.”
“Oh!” She kicked out at him.
Immediately, he seized her legs. “Thank you for reminding me to tie your feet as well.” He accomplished the deed as if she were a steer and he a rodeo performer.
Then, picking her up, he raced to a pony another Indian held for him. Running the knife through the rope that held her feet in place, he positioned her on the animal first, not giving her a chance to kick out at him, while he jumped up behind her. Nodding to his friend, Black Lion set her comfortably before him, picked up the reins, and spurring the pony into action, raced out of the arena.
No one followed him. In truth, most of the performers were so embroiled in their own actions, only a few noticed that the script was no longer being followed. However, little did the two of them realize that the audience had followed their antics and had gone wild over what they thought was a performance. As Black Lion raced out of the arena with his captive, the audience went into a frenzy, jumping to their feet with applause.
It was then that Buffalo Bill noticed the two of them and what they were doing. But was it for good or for bad?
“Him…husband”—Rabbit Leggings pointed to Black Lion—“him…told me…say that…to you.”
Shaking off the ropes that had tied her hands and dismounting from the pony while shooing away Black Lion’s attempts to help, Suzette turned on him. “Why have you gone to this much trouble to get me here? If I am to understand this correctly, Rabbit Leggings is saying that you are her husband. This hardly seems to prove your point.”
They were standing within the shadows of the arena. In truth, Black Lion hadn’t needed to take Suzette as far as his camp. Rabbit Leggings awaited them here. Said Black Lion, “Rabbit Leggings means that I had asked her to tell any white person who might come to the camp that she was married to me. You do recall that in order to be with the show, I am supposed to be married.”
“I hardly think I have need of an interpreter between myself and Rabbit Leggings. I do understand English, and pray, I didn’t hear her say all that you did. And you have yet to answer me about what she was doing in your lodge first thing in the morning.”
“I come…visiting… It…truth…” said Rabbit Leggings. “Him…tell me…be wife.”
Suzette closed her eyes and sighed. “First thing in the morning?”
“But…it…true.”
Suzette moaned, then turned to Black Lion. “So what you both are saying,” she began sarcastically, “is that Rabbit Leggings decided to come visiting in the wee hours of the morning—before you were even awake? And—”
“You! The both of you! Come here!”
Riding a snowy white horse out of the arena, Buffalo Bill galloped to within a few yards of them.
Suzette exchanged a glance with Black Lion, whispering under her breath, “See? I told you there would be trouble.”
Buffalo Bill said loudly, “What was that all about, and whose idea was it to change the script?”
Exchanging a glance between them, Suzette and Black Lion both spoke at the same time. “The idea was mine.”
Black Lion sent Suzette a private look of amazement, as though he couldn’t believe, in the face of everything else, that she was coming to his defense. In turn, she frowned at him. True, she would protect him from trouble, but that didn’t mean she was feeling amiable toward him. Indeed, much the opposite.
Buffalo Bill appeared puzzled. Leaning forward on his horse, he said, “You both came up with the idea then?”
“Well,” began Suzette, “after the stagecoach scene the other day, I thought that—”
“It was my idea, sir. The responsibility is mine, and mine alone,” said Black Lion. “And I will understand if you feel it necessary to discharge me.”
“Discharge you? Discharge you? Why, I’m going to give you a raise. It was brilliant!” said Cody. “Completely brilliant! And the crowd loved it! Did you see them standing in their seats? Even now they’re calling for you both to come back into the arena. You’re not going to disappoint them, are you?”
“But, Mr. Cody,” said Suzette, “I think that—”
“Come here now, Miss Joselyn. You ride that pony”—he waved toward the Appaloosa—“while the Indian— What’s your name?”
“Two Bears, but most people call me Lion.”
“Good enough…you ride, Miss Joselyn, while Lion here guides the pony back into the arena. When you’ve reached the center point, stop and take a bow. We’ll talk about this more later, and what sort of raise you’ll be looking for. Come to think of it”—he scratched his beard—“we could expand on the theme and rescue the lady here from the Indian village later in the presentation…maybe even this one. Are you both up to it?”
Suzette smiled at Cody, while Black Lion frowned. But neither of them said a word.
“Come on now.” Buffalo Bill directed the two of them as he kept his seat on the elegant white horse. “You, Lion, help the lady back up onto her seat.”
When Black Lion hesitated, Cody said, “Come now, I know it goes against your warrior reasoning, but help her up there anyway, and then come back in for a bow…both of you.”
Black Lion nodded, coming around Suzette to usher her toward the pony, then to grab her around the waist. With a simple motion, he lifted her onto the animal.
“Don’t touch me,” she whispered, even while she smiled at him for Cody’s benefit.
He returned the gesture, only his was a genuine smile. Beneath his breath, he said, “You tried to shield me against harm. What was that about? Do you begin to believe me?”
“No, I do not,” she responded with relish. “Nor do I feel favorable toward you in the least. After all, it is not as though Rabbit Leggings has denied that you are her husband. Nor have either of you enlightened me as to why she was in your lodge in the first place. But I will not continue our argument here. Let us do as Mr. Cody asks, since he awaits us.”
Black Lion might have answered her, but Cody rode up to them and said, “I’ll ride back into the arena first and announce you—then you follow. Think you can do that?”
Black Lion nodded.
“Here we go!” And then once more, for good measure, “Brilliant!”
Cody turned his horse around and rode back into the center of the arena. From their position outside the open-air tent, Suzette could hear him announce the two of them as his newest actor and actress.
“Friend of…husband, Black Lion, you should know…man…here…see you. He wait…in lodge.”
Black Lion nodded to Rabbit Leggings, who had come up to the two of them as they awaited their cue.
“Waste,” said Black Lion. “Did the man announce who he was?”
“Hiya, no.”
“Very well. Go tell him I will come to see him as soon as this performance is done.”
“Han, han. I go. I tell…him.”
No sooner had Rabbit Leggings turned to leave than Black Lion was leading the pony—with Suzette on it—back before the crowd.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
“I hardly know,” Black Lion replied. “But I will discover it forthwith, I suspect.”
Suzette might have responded, but it seemed inappropriate at the moment, for no sooner had they both stepped foot into the arena than the people in the stands went riotous with their praise. Most were standing, some were waving and smiling at them.
Suzette waved back, blowing kisses aimed at the crowd, while, having stopped at the midpoint in the arena, Black Lion stood immobile by her side.
She said, “You could raise a hand and wave too.”
“You are doing very well for both of us.”
“Someone has to give them a show and accept their accolades.”
“Then I am glad it is you. Will you come to my lodge tonight, after the Long-haired
Show Man’s party? We need to speak on this matter between us at length, and I think it should be soon.”
“No, I will not.”
“Say yes, you will.”
“I will not.”
“Then I will kiss you, here, before them all.” He grinned slightly. “Let the Long-haired Show Man explain that.”
Even as he said it, he had begun to turn the pony around so they might take a bow for the people on the opposite side of the stands.
“I will not be blackmailed,” she said. “How dare you try to do so!”
“And I will enjoy kissing you.” As he swung the pony around, he stepped toward her. He even reached up as though to take hold of her.
“Very well. You make your point. But I will not come to speak to you until after the party is well finished. So do not wait up for me.”
He smiled. “I will wait for you all the same.” At last, grinning madly, he too waved at the crowd.
Black Lion treaded back into the Indian encampment and, stepping toward his canvas-covered lodge, saw a stranger awaiting him. Whoever it was, Black Lion had a good feeling about this. Thus, it did not completely startle him to discover that it was White Claw, the medicine man of the Lost Clan.
Though it was true Black Lion was surprised by the visit—for he did not realize White Claw had the ability to move between the realms of both realities—as was the way of his people, Black Lion kept the emotion carefully concealed. Instead of an enthusiastic welcome, after climbing into his tepee, Black Lion stepped to the left of the lodge fire and took his place next to White Claw, acting like this might be a most commonplace meeting. Two Bears and Rabbit Leggings, as though by a previous agreement, arose and left the lodge.
After several moments of solemn appreciation elapsed, Black Lion said in the Sioux tongue, “Hepela—hepela! I am joyful to see you.”
White Claw nodded. Then the old medicine man took hold of his pipe and lit it with the dung of the buffalo, offering up the pipe’s smoke as a prayer first to the Sky, then to the Earth and lastly to the Four Winds. Only then did White Claw inhale a puff from the pipe, extending it afterward to Black Lion.
Black Lion accepted the gift, drew in a breath from the pipe and gave it back to White Claw, where the elder placed it in a position of honor before him. Such was the ceremony that attended all councils. After it was done, White Claw spoke for the first time since Black Lion had entered the lodge. He spoke in the words of the Blackfeet, the language of the Lost Clan. “Issohka, Grandson, it is good to see you. I am pleased to witness that you have grown into a fine man.”
“My heart is also happy to see you, Aaahs, Grandfather. It has been many years since we last spoke. I have missed my people.”
“That is to be expected.”
“Do you bring news? Are my father and mother well?”
“They are as well as might be expected, living the half-life existence that we do.”
“Aa, yes. I understand. Know I am using all my strength and wisdom to break the spell for our people.”
White Claw nodded. “I am certain you are.”
Silence followed this statement, and except for the occasional spark that broke away from the fire, all was quiet. Though there were many questions Black Lion would have liked to ask the medicine man, good manners forbid him to speak of such things until asked.
At last, White Claw said, “You are the first of all our champions that the Great Spirit has allowed me to visit while the spell still remains intact. What the reason is for this, I suspect is not about the spell or helping you to break it. For I fear, this you must do yourself.”
“Aa, yes,” Black Lion said. “This I do understand. Therefore, my heart is very glad you are here.”
“As mine is to see you. Issohka, let me begin by telling you that I have dreamed of you. Take heed now of what I say, for I have seen your spirit protector, and I bring you news from the lioness.”
Though surprised anew, Black Lion did no more than nod pleasantly.
“This is what I have to say to you,” said White Claw. “There is a new danger, one we in the Clan have not before experienced. My heart grieves to tell you that Red Belly has died, and as you know, he was the last boy of the right age that we could send forth into the world in our quest to break the curse. Worse, I fear the Thunderer knows this.”
Black Lion accepted these tidings calmly, yet his soul was filled with dread, for he suspected what other news might be forthcoming.
“If you fail in this quest,” White Claw continued, “I fear our Clan will be doomed to remain in the mist forever.”
Again, Black Lion nodded by way of good manners, though his heart skipped a beat.
“Haiya,” said White Claw, “the responsibility upon you is grave, and could I take the burden from your shoulders, I would do so. But I cannot. Hear me, grandson, your spirit protector has this to say to you: Take your wife into your confidence, and tell her what it is you seek. Do not sing the sacred song to her, for if she does not know it, and you have sung it, you will lose your chance to free your people. But your wife may have knowledge of this song. Remember, it is a white man’s song. Haiya, take her into your confidence.”
Though his pulse was beating heavily in his chest, Black Lion said simply, “I will do as you say.”
“Soka’piiwa, that is good. Soka’piiwa. Issohka, grandson?”
“Aa?”
“There is one other particular your spirit protector wishes you to know.”
“Hannia?”
“The lioness sees you are unhappy in your personal life. Do not be.” A gleam, not unlike a spark of laughter, lighted the old man’s eye. “Your spirit protector fears you have misunderstood a detail she told you.”
“Hannia, really?”
“Aa, it is so. A man is allowed the pleasure of his wife, as long as he is respectful of her condition.” White Claw grinned. “Especially when he is only recently wed.”
Black Lion raised a single eyebrow. It was his only reaction.
“Think again on the message from your spirit protector, Issohka,” said White Claw. “Sacrificing the pleasures of the flesh may have many different meanings…not only the one. Ponder it again. Remember that the lioness said exactly that though you are married, you, your people, must be willing to sacrifice pleasures of the flesh.”
Black Lion nodded. That White Claw should know the particulars of his dream and of his marital situation did not astonish him. Far from it. Such were the ways and wonders of the old medicine men.
“Think on it.”
“I will,” said Black Lion.
“In truth, one is never too old to love, to show love…or to find love. It is all around us, and one only needs to reach out to bring it into our lives. Mat’-ah-kwi tam-ap-i-ni-po-ke-mi-o-sin, not found is happiness without woman. And so I am here.” He nodded. “Aa, I am here.”
“Aaahs, Grandfather, do you, too, look for love?”
“I have already found love,” said White Claw. “Haiya, I only require discovering it once again.”
Though Black Lion did not understand these words, he did not query further. Instead, he said, “I am truly glad you have visited me. And my heart is happy to learn I have misunderstood the spirit protector’s words, for these last few days have been difficult. Perhaps I can now be a good husband, though I fear I would be happier yet were the task before me not so serious.”
“This is to be expected, Issohka. It may be likely that the Great Spirit in His wisdom, though he gives you an additional burden, counters it with a freedom. So do ponder your spirit protector’s words, by all means, but also take pleasure in being a husband.”
No sooner had the words left White Claw’s lips than the two men shared a glance, and at last they both smiled. Though the council was formally ended, the two of them continued to talk at length of Black Lion’s vision and o
f more general tidings. But interestingly, White Claw was very intent on one detail: They would attend the white man’s party this night. Though Black Lion tried to convince the medicine man that the Indian was rarely, if ever, invited to such things, his words had no effect on the old medicine man.
And so, donning their very best clothes for the occasion, the two men set out to crash the Long-haired Show Man’s celebration.
Chapter Eighteen
Buffalo Bill was known for his spectacular and well-attended after-performance parties. The affairs were usually held in his own lavish tents, of which there were several. Such were attended by the famous and well-known, as well as by the entire Wild West cast. An orchestra was always in attendance, and champagne flowed like water at such occasions. This one was no different.
At present, Irena and Suzette stood together amongst the crowd. In the background were the hum of the orchestra and the murmur of many voices, all speaking at once. Perhaps it was this feeling of security that lent to them the notion that they could speak freely to one another.
“You and your husband were spectacular,” said Irena quietly as she sipped a glass full of champagne. “And so real to life.”
“Yes, well, it was real to life. I was truly fighting him. You know that I am upset with him, and with good reason.”
Above the champagne glass, Irena blinked at her granddaughter. “So you say. However, it was an extraordinary idea of Bill’s to rescue you later from the Indian village, setting you free. Pray, I have rarely seen so enthusiastic a crowd. I began to think they might jump over the barrier and into the arena with you. Indeed, I would have to agree with Mr. Cody in this regard. It was an absolutely brilliant maneuver on Black Lion’s part to steal you, and you were stunning as a captive, my dear.”
Suzette didn’t answer. She couldn’t, not at this particular moment. In sweeping her gaze around the room, her glance caught on a familiar face.
“What is he doing here?” she asked no one in particular. “Indians don’t usually attend these parties that are given for the dignitaries, do they?”
“Is someone here, dear?”
