War Cloud's Passion

by Karen Kay

  War Cloud had not thrown away the dress that had been given to Anna at the settlers’ camp. Thinking to present it as a gift to one of his friends’ wives, he had tucked it away in his blanket.

  He put that garment to use immediately, for he feared it was the only scheme he could envision. He would have to pretend to be female.

  “You are not such a bad-looking woman, even if the dress is too small,” commented Lame Bird, cocking his eye in War Cloud’s direction.

  “He’kotoo’estse! Be quiet,” said War Cloud, refusing to look directly at his brother. “And remember what I told you. If shooting starts, you are to run from the fort as fast as you can.”

  Lame Bird lifted his shoulders. “I will remember.”

  As War Cloud and Lame Bird approached the fort from the east and as the wind was loud in their ears, they could not see or hear that the gates to the fort had slammed closed. In truth, they noticed nothing amiss until one lone wagon sped out from the fort. And upon that wagon sat a woman—his Anna.

  Something was very wrong.

  Literally tearing the dress from his back, War Cloud reached toward Lame Bird for his weapons, the youngster handing them over promptly.

  The carryall tore straight for him and Lame Bird. War Cloud alerted his brother, “We must catch that wagon and urge the horses to run even faster. Something is wrong if Anna is having to leave in a hurry.”

  “Haahe,” answered Lame Bird.

  “I will grab hold of the horse in front while you jump onto the wagon. Ta-naestse! Go!”

  Both men sprinted toward the speeding vehicle, and only when the wagon was almost upon him did War Cloud become aware of the soldiers riding out of the fort. Eaaa, what had happened? He and his brother were going to have little chance against the faster mounts of the soldiers.

  Still, if this was all he had, he would force these animals into a pace that would at least give the warrior-whites a good chase.

  After all, it was a good day to die.

  War Cloud sprinted toward the lead nag, vaulting onto it in a single leap.

  A gun fired.

  Were the warrior-whites trying to kill Anna? Why?

  War Cloud goaded the horses to an even faster gait. As he did so, he wondered what had happened. It made no sense. Why would the warrior-whites be shooting at one of their own?

  Unless…

  Had they made the connection between himself and Anna? And even if they had, why would they shoot at her?

  He had to use his wits, he realized, for they were outnumbered as well as virtually unarmed.

  Up ahead of them loomed a hill. If he drove the horses toward it, he might gain enough time to turn and face the soldiers, letting Anna and the children escape.

  It was a desperate attempt; one that he would have to make count.

  He ran the horses straight to the hill, bringing them to a halt so swiftly, the wagon tumbled onto its side. But Lame Bird had anticipated his brother’s move and had prodded the woman and the children to lunge from the wagon before it rolled.

  Anna did not hesitate to act. He watched as she spurred the children on toward cover, and War Cloud, seeing it, strode out to meet the soldiers. He only wished he had more than six arrows in his quiver. Those and his sawed-off shotgun were the only weapons he had in his defense. Well, perhaps he also had his wits, which had always seemed as good a defense against the warrior-whites as any other.

  No sooner had he set up a stance than Collin joined him. Seeing the lad, War Cloud said, “Go back there with Anna and Patty.”

  But Collin would not be put off and he asserted, “I’m as much a man as Lame Bird. If Lame Bird can stand off the soldiers, then I can, too.”

  War Cloud did not give any further argument. No, much as he did not like it, he would not insult the boy by making him into a child. Especially after Collin had already proved his worth.

  War Cloud said simply, “When the warrior-whites come, stand behind me. And if I fall, take Anna and Patty to a good shelter. Promise me you will do this.”

  A shot fired toward them.

  “Promise me,” War Cloud demanded.

  “I will.”

  “Good. Now, keep moving around and stay behind me. A target in motion is harder to hit. Stay alive. The longer you live, the more of a chance the women have to escape.”

  War Cloud drew an arrow out of his quiver and, taking quick aim, let it fire.

  Another shot discharged at them, missed. War Cloud and the boys kept on the move. More shots followed.

  “No! Stop this at once!” It was a woman’s voice.

  “Damn!” War Cloud cursed, recognizing that voice, comprehending the danger. Would his Nahkohe-tseske never learn? It was her duty to leave, to hide, to find cover. But most of all it was her responsibility to stay alive.

  “Stop shooting this instant!” Anna yelled at the soldiers.

  “Go back,” War Cloud shouted at her. “Take cover!”

  More guns fired, followed by a scream and then nothing.

  “No!” It was War Cloud’s cry. “No!”

  Spinning around, he turned his back on the soldiers and ran to Anna. Hova’ahane, a bullet had found her in the chest. Was it fatal? It could not be fatal.

  War Cloud reached down to feel her pulse.

  “No-o-o-o-o!”

  The warrior-whites steadily approached, guns drawn, but War Cloud paid them no heed.

  “Anna, please don’t leave me!” he cried.

  But it was useless. Her body contained no life.

  Anna floated above her body. She could hear War Cloud and yet she listened to him in an unusual way. Not with her body’s ears.

  What had happened? Was she still alive?

  Anna looked at her body as though from above it. Was she dead?

  She heard a chuckle from somewhere behind her. Behind her where? She had no physical form with which to orient herself.

  The evil laugh sounded again, and a voice said, “So, you thought you could marry one such as he.”

  What was this? Spirits talking to her? It could not be. She did not believe in these things.

  A face appeared before her. A horrible face; an Indian countenance, yet not. Tattoos marred every inch of this one’s features. It was hideous, like no human being she had ever seen…except that once—Sky Falcon’s had looked similar.

  She formed a thought. “Are you Sky Falcon?”

  A roar of anguish followed the question. Anna winced, more than a little disconcerted to realize her thoughts had communicated. “So,” came the voice, “you think to insult me, too. Perhaps you would like me to kill your lover, as well as you, that you might spend eternity with each other.”

  How could this be? How could she be speaking in thought to a being no longer alive? Again, unable to help herself, Anna thought, “You killed me?”

  “From the time you left the fort until your death, you as good as married that one. My curse over his family holds firm. None such as you can break it.”

  Anna had no idea what was taking place. Yet she seemed to have no ability to stop it and, unable to prevent it, she thought, “Then you are…the father of…”

  “I am he who is known as Lost In Timber, proud medicine man of the Cocopa tribe.”

  “And am I dead?”

  “Perhaps.”

  It could not be, she considered. If she were dead, she would be in the company of her Maker. Of this she was certain. She could not be dead. She thought, “The Cocopa tribe? But that tribe boasts no more than a few souls.” Anna’s thoughts took form. “It hasn’t for hundreds of years.”

  “Be quiet!”

  “Be gone, old man. I do not know what happens here. But I do recognize that if I were dead, I would be in company with He who is my God. You may as well realize that you have no power over me.”

  A rush of angry wind swept by her. Oddly, she felt no effect from it.

  “Ah,” came the voice of Lost In Timber, “you are wrong. I have great power over you. I can caus
e you, like Sky Falcon, never to be reunited with your love, not even in death.”

  Anna laughed, or at least she thought she laughed, if that were possible. She thought, “You are outdated, old man. You have no influence over me at all. I love War Cloud and I will live my life with him, and I have faith that I will be joined with him once again. You have no power over my beliefs. Now, be gone!”

  “Think you not?” The old man raised an image of a hand toward her, fingers outstretched, and the instant he did so, a devil wind blew at her, encompassing her, taking her with it and disorienting her until she felt depleted of her own sense of space and time. At the same instant lightning bolts crashed around her.

  In truth, all these things might have frightened her at one time, but they did not do so at present. Anna had not lied when she said she simply did not believe. Only He who had given her the breath of life had the right to take it from her.

  And so it was with this thought uppermost in her mind, she said, again, “I grow tired of this, old man. You have no power over me. If I were dead, then I would have gone to meet my Maker. You have nothing to offer me but fear and superstition, and I will have none of it.”

  Anna barely dared to think. But it occurred to her that if she could bring this old being to acknowledge that he had failed with her, might he not conclude that his powers had deteriorated? Could that possibly be the impetus to break the curse?

  She had to try. Toward this end Anna reiterated, “Admit it, old man, your power is gone.”

  Old Lost In Timber roared, “Nonsense, I am as powerful today as I was when I was alive.”

  “Are you?” Anna questioned slyly. “You have no body with which to experience the world; you have no family who loves you. You don’t even have a rewarding afterlife. And no one upon the earth believes in you anymore. No, old man, you are about as mighty as…as…” She pointed back to earth. “As that rock.”

  “You lie! It is I who took you away from your husband. It is I who will keep you from your husband. So long as you both remain separate, I can make you suffer.”

  So long as they remain separate? Again, she dared not think.

  She protested, “You have no rights, nor any influence over me. No one, least of all I, gave you license to play God. Go away, old man, I grow tired of your game. Soon I will awaken and will be in the arms of my husband and you will see. Your power is gone.”

  Anna paused in the silence that followed. She waited, and she waited. Had her ruse worked?

  And then all at once the old spirit roared, “Think you that I have no power? You will die, I tell you. You will die.”

  “You are wrong, old man,” she retorted. “I will not die at all. I will not die at all…”

  “Take me in her place if someone must perish,” War Cloud pleaded as he knelt over her body. Speaking once more to the Above Ones, he beseeched, “Take me.”

  Anna suddenly coughed, and gulping in a rush of air, she opened her eyes.

  War Cloud leaned over her. “You live!”

  “War Cloud.” She coughed again, reaching out to touch him. He grabbed her hand.

  “Come close,” she whispered.

  War Cloud leaned over her, bringing his ear to her lips as she breathed, “There is a chance that we can break the spell. His power exists only as long as we remain separate. We must confront him together.”

  “Who?”

  “Lost In Timber,” she muttered. “You must come back with me into the spirit world. Do you think you can? You have spoken to Sky Falcon all these years. Can you do it?”

  “I can.”

  “Take my hand,” she said.

  He did so, but he also said, “We must wait a moment before I leave this body. The warrior-whites are almost upon us, and I must stay a little longer in order to protect you and the children.”

  Lame Bird knelt down on one knee next to him. The lad said, “You can go, my brother. The warrior-whites are leaving. Look.”

  It was true. Gigantic dust devils had descended upon the earth, landing directly in front of the soldiers. And at the top of those winds stood the image of a figure, that of Sky Falcon.

  Said that image, “Go with her, my son. These warrior-whites will not bother you. I will see to them. Be brave.”

  War Cloud squeezed Anna’s hand and said, “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  “Close your eyes, and no matter what is said, or what is done, we must never lose sight of one another; we must never become separate. His power works only if we do not remain together. Do you understand?”

  “I do.”

  Anna breathed in another rush of air and, taking hold of his hand, slipped back with him into the land of the spirits.

  Anna was immediately shrouded in fog.

  “War Cloud?” she called out in thought. But there was no answer. How had they become separated? “War Cloud?”

  She did not understand these things of a spiritual nature. She had held his hand. She should be holding it still.

  Yet, he was gone and she could see nothing. Worse, there were no markings to guide her: no voice, no old spirit, nothing with which to orient herself.

  “War Cloud?” she called again.

  “I am here,” came a very faint reply.

  “Where?” Anna heard a clash of stone weapon upon stone weapon.

  Does War Cloud do battle with Lost In Timber?

  “War Cloud?”

  No answer. “I love you,” she called.

  Swish! She heard the whisper of a flying arrow. Where was he?

  “War Cloud,” she called out, “please answer me. I must find you.”

  Nothing.

  “I love you.”

  All at once, the smell of battle, the horrible stench of fear engulfed her.

  She thought again, “I love you.”

  “I am here.”

  What had made him hear her this time? Why had she heard him?

  She tried again, “I love you, War Cloud.”

  She caught a brief glimpse of him.

  Love? Talking about love seemed to pull him closer to her.

  Hurriedly she said, “Do you remember when we first saw each other? I thought you were the most handsome of men.”

  She caught a vivid flash of man against man, enmeshed in a fight to the death. She rushed through the mist toward them. She reached out—the image disappeared.

  She caught the flash of a facsimile: an image of her wrapped in War Cloud’s arms. It was War Cloud, calling to her with his thoughts.

  “My darling,” Anna tried to yell, realized that she could not and thought instead, “I saw your image of us. Keep doing it, my love. I will find you.”

  Another likeness flashed, as though it were right there before her, but too soon it was gone.

  “Remember, my love,” Anna said, “the Pawnee fight, how angry you were at me? Remember how you told me you had to have me or you would perish?”

  “I am here,” he called.

  Anna caught sight of War Cloud struggling beneath the knife of old Lost In Timber.

  She ran toward the sight, but again, when she reached out for it, it vanished.

  She caught the flash of one of his thoughts; they were there, making love.

  She felt herself move closer to him, and said, “Do you remember our first kiss, do you remember the night we spent in each other’s arms?”

  Suddenly he was beside her, though he was locked in battle with Lost In Timber. Had he always been there?

  Cautiously she crept toward them and reached out to him. “I am here, War Cloud,” she said. “Reach out and I will touch your hand.”

  Struggling to comply, War Cloud extended an arm toward her. Immediately she groped in his direction, even though howling winds raced at her and around her, threatening to disorient her. But she held her position and tried to take hold of his hand.

  She could not get it, not quite, and her hero struggled beneath the weight of old Lost In Timber.

  Grasping at straws, for Anna knew
not what to do, she yelled out, “Do you see us, old man? Do you see that we are here before you? Do you observe us together, not apart? Admit it. You cannot destroy us, or our love. Your magic has failed.”

  Anna outstretched her hand, her fingertips inching slowly towards War Cloud. She almost had it and she said, “I love you, War Cloud.”

  “Ne-mehotatse, and I love you,” came his response.

  They touched.

  “No!” old Lost In Timber screamed, staring in disbelief at both War Cloud and Anna, standing together, their fingers firmly interlocked. And as their thoughts became more and more as one, their strength built until it appeared as though their love, their only defense, was more weapon than mere magic. “No!” screamed the old man again, but it was no use.

  Without so much as another word, old Lost In Timber disappeared, leaving nothing behind except perhaps a bit of dust and a cloud of mist.

  Anna awoke with a choked breath, finding herself physically wrapped in War Cloud’s arms.

  Slowly he raised his head, and gradually he smiled at her. Anna returned the gesture.

  He was the first one to speak. “You live.”

  Her smile grew until, at length, she laughed. Finally, she responded, “Yes, I think I do, as do you, too.”

  “Ne-mehotatse,” he said. “I love you, my sweet, courageous Nahkohe-tseske. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

  As happiness consumed her, Anna sat up, discovering to her amazement that her wound was nothing more than a scratch. What was more, the soldiers were gone; she could see them retreating to the fort, the whirlwind chasing them.

  And what an odd sight it was. Sky Falcon’s image stood as a central figure within the wind storm. But there was more. As though she had always been there, another figure appeared beside Sky Falcon. As Anna watched, Sky Falcon took the young woman in his arms and the two of them embraced. Together the figures ascended into the sky.

  “Did you see it?” War Cloud asked her. “Did you see my ancestors?”

  “I did. I saw them,” said Anna. “Funny, because it looked as though Sky Falcon’s wife had been by his side all the while. It was only that neither one of them could behold the other.” Anna glanced up at War Cloud. “Like us.”