As Wind Dancer's gaze roved her for a sign of any harm, he murmured, "As does mine for your courage and skills in saving Grandfather." He was relieved the danger was past and she was safe, as he did not want to even imagine living without her. He was also glad the hawk survived.
"As does mine," Hanmani added. "I will help you tend Cetan before I go to help others in need if he will allow my touch and presence."
"He will do so if I command it, my sister, and I thank you for your good heart. Fetch the medicine pouch for me," Chumani requested.
"I will return later; I have sad tasks to do now," Wind Dancer said. "I will bring Cetan a rabbit or squirrel to eat since he cannot hunt his prey."
Chumani smiled at her husband, their gazes melding warmly for a time before he left the tepee. She took the pouch from Hanmani and pulled out many small leather-bound items. She looked at the treatments for cuts and bleeding and easing pain: spider's web, unripe puffballs, fern, yarrow, white pine, pond lily, wort, Horsetail rush, wild tobacco. She decided which ones to use on the large bird and began her work. After the bleeding was halted and the cuts were smeared with medicine, she used two sticks and thin strips of leather to secure the break in position and hold it there. Not once did Cetan attempt to peck or claw her, and he remained still and quiet and watchful. She noted that he also allowed Hanmani's touch as the girl assisted with the splint. "He likes and trusts you," Chumani told the girl. "When Waci Tate returns with his food, if you will feed and water him, he will become familiar with your touch before we ride from camp then you can tend him for me while I am gone. Will you do that good deed, my sister?"
"Yes, my sister, and I will be honored and happy to do so. Do not worry, Dewdrops, for no harm will come to him under my guard," Hanmani vowed as she smiled and stroked the hawk's chest as she chatted to him.
Chumani's heart filled with joy and relief when Cetan ducked his head under the girl's hand and nuzzled her palm with its crest, a sign of trust and affection and acceptance. "It is good, for you have become his friend and I will be calm in knowing he is well tended and protected."
Chumani secured one end of a strong tether to the hawk's leg and the other to a post driven into the ground. She told Hanmani it would be easier for the bird to remain still and calm inside the tepee without distractions and enticements from outside surroundings. She smiled again when the girl fetched water and placed the wooden bowl nearby. "Stay, Cetan, for we must go help others. Hanmani will return soon with your food."
Guards were posted around the village to make certain another raid by a third war party did not take place while they were occuppied with grim tasks which required the remainder of that day to complete.
When the large group of Red Shields returned near midafternoon from their futile pursuit of the Apsaalooke, they were elated to discover the news of the awesome victory during their absence but were distressed by the losses their friends had suffered. Many praised Wind Dancer loudly and repeatedly for seeing through the Crow's trick to lure them from camp for a surprise attack and thanked the Strong Hearts for the defense of their tepees and families. They joined the others to repair damage to tepees, to tend the wounded, help construct scaffolds, assist with burials, and to hunt for those in need of fresh game who had lost their husbands on past suns.
By dusk, the wiconte wicagnakapis stood out on the verdant landscape against a darkening cobalt sky with seven bodies resting upon themfour females, two children, and an elderly man. Two of the women were wives and mothers, while the others were a girl of joining age and one of fifty whose mate had died during the past winter. Their deaths were mourned with sad songs, traditional chants, and cut marks on the legs and arms of adult family members. Even Mother Nature seemed to respond to the tragedy. The wind ceased to blow as if to honor those whose lives had been taken by fierce enemies. The sky's beautiful blue shade dulled as if in empathy and the sun hid behind a distant cloud as if unable to witness the somber sight. The birds were quiet and the animals remained concealed as if to prevent intruding on the people's sorrow.
After the burial ceremony was completed and all returned to camp, relatives and friends took in those tormented by grief and requiring help with children and husbands. The people ate in small and quiet groups before retiring, many to endure a restless night.
Chumani snuggled in Wind Dancer's embrace. Though they kissed and stroked each other, they did not make love, as sadness gripped their hearts. They drew comfort from each other and bonded more tightly from their sharing of such a terrible event. Too, their thoughts roamed into the past and they relived the tragic losses of their sons at the hands of the Crow warrior who had led the first attack to lure the others from camp so his companions could attack.
When Buffalo Hump had returned from chasing the first band, Chumani and Wind Dancer had made a shocking discovery. From Buffalo Humps description of the Crow leader's face design, they knew he was the same Crow warrior who had murdered their children. Each wished they had been with the war chief so the pursuit could have continued until their enemy had been overtaken and killed to avenge their sons' deaths. Yet, they somehow knew that their paths would cross again and vengeance would not be denied them, perhaps even be granted to them as a reward for their parts in the sacred quest, which was to begin in a few more moons. Each also knew another great event was to take place on the next sun.
The Red Shield Band of the Oglala Lakotas gathered in the center of their winter encampment as they awaited the start of the Sacred Bow ritual, as it was believed to yield powerful medicine for war and for peace. The people's hearts and minds were filled with mixed feelings on that day, for many had experienced terrible losses and others, great victories over their enemies. Despite the anguish of those with slain family members or close friends, all knew that each person's existence traveled in a circle as with the Sacred Hoop of Life, and death was a part of it. The fallen ones' spirits now dwelled with Wakantanka and that fact was soothing.
The elite Sacred Medicine Bow society's meeting lodge had been set up in the midst of the camp early that morning, with a sweat lodge erected beside it. The three other Bow Carriers-War Eagle, Raven, and Broken Arrow-participated in the event to show Swift Otter's skills were equal to theirs and he possessed the prowess to join their high rank. Following purification of the four men who were clad only in plain breechclouts and moccasins in the initipi and words spoken in private in the members' meeting lodge, the ceremony began with a prayer sent forth by Nahemana to the Great Spirit and other powerful forces of Nature-wind, lightning, thunder, hail, snake, and bear-to ask for guidance and assistance.
Four posts, which represented the four directions of the wind and Medicine Wheel, were already in place in opposing positions and were decorated with sacred symbols. The runners' bodies were painted red, the color of Mother Earth where the buffalo-the main provider of their survival-wallowed. Other Medicine Bow colors and designs were added. Yellow lines to depict lightning snaked across their faces, and their cheeks bore blue hailstones. A yellow quarter-moon was painted upon their bare chests. Other sky-blue lines drawn on arms and legs evoked the powers of the four winds. The four runners faced the west, their expressions serious, their moods reverent. After the signal was given, Swift Otter displayed his great stamina and determination, easily matching the pace of the other three participants, necessary competition to prove his worth. Since it was not a contest between several hopefuls, no token was collected at each post to determine the winner. Each man simply touched the post in passing. All reached Nahemana at almost the same time. More tests quickly followe to prove weapons skills, prowess, endurance, and intelligence.
As Wind Dancer observed, he recalled the sun he had performed the ritual with success; he had served that rank well until he relinquished his medicine bow to become a Shirt Wearer and Strong Heart. Great love and pride filled his heart for his brother, as War Eagle-now seventeen-had proven himself worthy of that and a warrior's rank at a young age last summer. He knew that i
f anything happened to him and and his father, War Eagle would make a good chief and leader.
As Chumani watched the activities, she imagined her husband participating. She knew he had collected all four tokens and returned to his grandfather's side before the next contestant even reached the third post. Her heart pounded with love and desire for him, and it was difficult to keep focused on the stirring event before her.
After the demands were met, everyone observed as Swift Otter strung his new bow, one which was longer and heavier than a regular weapon and exposed a lance point on the top end. It now would be the man's duty to help bring about peace for his band and to fight fiercely for it in times of war. He was presented with a hanger, a staff for supporting the sacred bow when not in use, as it must not lie upon the ground or be propped against anything which might drain or taint its special powers.
With Badger's replacement chosen, the Sacred Bow foursome was once again complete. The other members-four club bearers and four staff carriers-joined their society brothers in a ceremonial dance and chant. Afterward, the four participants re-entered the initipi for a final purification rite, during which their bodies were washed clean of paints and were rubbed with sweet and sage grasses in symbolic gesture to the land which fed the buffalo.
That night, the band met once more in the center of their camp to seek total unity and harmony as one body of people before they faced their coming challenges. The wife of Badger joined to a warrior who had lost his mate and tepee during the Crow attack, forming a new family with their children. Ceremonial dances were performed and recent coups were chanted, including those of Wind Dancer, Chumani, and Cetan. Prayers were said for lost loved ones and for guidance and protection during their impending annual hunt and during certain confrontations with enemies, Indian and White. Food was supplied by most families to be shared and eaten with others. The people were reminded that the sacred quest companions would leave on their first journey on the next sun as soon as Zitkala and Red Feather returned from the White Shield camp.
In their tepee, after Chumani tended Cetan and sealed their entrance flap, she turned to Wind Dancer to question him about a serious matter.
Chumani tried to swallow the lump in her throat. For two days she had struggled to ignore her trepidation and failed to do so. She licked her dry lips and asked her husband, "What will happen if Zitkala and Red Feather do not return?"
Wind Dancer did not grasp her grave concern, as his thoughts traveled in another direction. He wanted to take advantage of the Brule woman's absence to make slow and passionate love to his wife while they had privacy before their journey. "We will wait for them."
Chumani went to sit beside him on the sleeping mat. She noticed how he eyed her and perceived his romantic mood, but she needed answers. "I do not wish to think of such anguish striking at us, but I meant, what if Crow scouts were watching our camp three suns past, saw them leave, followed, and ... attacked them?" she asked, unable to say the word killed, as it knifed her emotions. "What if they never return to us? Will we delay our first task, go anyway with only War Eagle, or choose others to ride with us?"
Wind Dancer grimaced at the terrible thought of losing his best friend, and Chumani, hers. "I am certain they did not confront our enemies and will return to us." His voice held strong conviction. "The Great Spirit would not allow them to be harmed, as He has need of them."
Chumani smiled. "You are right, mihigna, and it was foolish of me to worry about them. I must have faith in Wakantanka. My fears came from enduring our enemy's attack and because the trickster has not struck at us again and I worry the evil one will do so soon."
"Do not be afraid, mitawin, for I will protect you from harm, as will the Great Spirit." His heart rate increased steadily as he gazed at her and saw her smile and relax. He noted the lovely curve of her chin and jawline, the flawless surface of her skin, and those brown eyes which drew him into them like dark pools of shiny water. He could not resist her magic, and hoped she found him just as alluring. She possessed so many good traits and ways that he could not name them all, but he was aware and appreciative of each one.
Chumani watched Wind Dancer as he studied her. She found his fascination with her arousing and flattering. She felt a rush of heat to her cheeks, as if a fire were suddenly kindled within her body. Her spirit soared with eagerness and delight. His gaze held a compelling power and gleam of tenderness which captivated her. She knew what he wanted and what she wanted were one and the same.
Chumani's hand reached out to graze his angular jawline, for she could not deny the heady impulse to touch him, to feel the stirring sensation of his flesh against hers. He had removed his shirt earlier and she let her fingers drift down his neck and across his hairless chest, as she admired the muscular hardness of his torso. Her gaze halted on his Sun Dance scars, as did her fingertips before she traced the marks which exposed his great courage and stamina and sacrifice to the Great Spirit.
Wind Dancer was enchanted and titillated by her bold exploration. She did not have to tell him she wanted him tonight, for everything about her proclaimed her rising desire. His blood pulsed in excitement and pleasure; his loins blazed in response. Surely if he could awaken her passions to such a great height, he could capture her love. He drew her closer for a deep and meaning-filled kiss.
Soon, they both were eager to surrender fully to what seemed so inevitable and right.
Parting only long enough to yank off their garments and moccasins, they sank to the buffalo mat locked in each other's arms, their lips melded in a hot kiss. They tried to work slowly, but their cravings were too urgent to be denied for very long. They united their bodies and aimed for love's sweet target. They attained and savored it with great elation.
Afterward, they snuggled, kissed, and stroked each other until they drifted off to sleep peacefully for the remainder of the night.
Chumani tried to keep herself busy and distracted as she awaited her best friend's return. She was pleased with how Hanmani tended and calmed Cetan, and how her hawk responded to the girl's gentle touch and soothing voice. She loved and trusted her two-winged companion, for they had been together for many circles of the seasons. It would pain her deeply if anything ever happened to him, though she suspected he would one day take a mate and leave her for his rightful existence as a soarer of the sky and dweller of the forests and mountains. Thanks to Hanmani, she would not worry about his care and safety while they were gone.
At midday, a shout went up from the children that Red Feather was returning, and Chumani's gaze rushed toward that direction. When she sighted Zitkala riding beside him, joy and relief flooded her. She did not wait for them to reach her; she almost raced to join and greet them. "You are back!" she cried. "It is good for my eyes to see you again."
Zitkala laughed at her friend's animated expression and teased, "Only three moons have passed since you did so, and it would be longer if we had not ridden fast, as the wind blows during the cold season."
"There was much danger and trouble after your departure. I feared our enemies had trailed and attacked you, though my husband said no.
Red Feather's smile vanished as he asked, "What peril struck?"
Quickly, Chumani related the gist of the grim incident during his absence and finished, "Wind Dancer tends our horses in the canyon and will return soon; he will tell you more. We are to leave after you rest and eat."
"I will seek him out to talk. We will come to his tepee soon."
After Red Feather took their horses to drink and graze for a while, Chumani and Zitkala went to the tepee to talk and prepare themselves.
In a near whisper and with a merry grin on her face, Chumani said, "I saw how you two were looking at each other. Tell me everything. Was your journey good? Has he entrapped your heart?"
"We shared many special words and kisses, but we did not unite our bodies on the sleeping mat. It was hard to resist the temptation to explore and enjoy such feelings, but we do not know each other well enough to sur
render to them so soon." She paused before asking, "What is it like to do so with one you love and crave?"
Chumani knew her friend's words and mood were serious, so she made no jests. "It is the most wonderful experience you can have, Zitkala. It is as if all else fades away for a time and all you hear, see, feel, smell, and taste is your loved one. Love is powerful magic, my friend, it enslaves you."
"That is how it is with Wind Dancer but was not with Dull Star," her friend reminded her.
"That is true, for I did not love or desire my first mate; I did not even care for him as a friend or band member. His pride was too large, and his thoughts were as twisted as a hair braid. He was not gentle or kind. I was viewed and treated as a possession, a lowly one, despite my rank as our chief's daughter and his wife. Wind Dancer matches him in no way."
"That is good, Dewdrops, and it is the same with Red Feather. He is good and kind and gentle, but a great warrior and skilled hunter. There is no man in our camp to match him in all ways and deeds. He is the first man to flame my body, to cause my heart to beat fast, to make my mind roam as in a beautiful dream. He does not find my looks and manner repulsive. He does not view me as being foolish and manly. He praises my skills and encourages me to use them. He makes me realize I am a woman. He brings forth the feminine instincts buried deep within me. Is it wrong to yearn for him and such things so quickly?"
Chumani hugged her friend and smiled in joy. "No, Zitkala. Do you not remember how I desired Wind Dancer from the first time I saw him? I did not understand such a hunger and I fought it in a fierce battle. I did not win, and I am happy I lost that conflict. I am sure he desires and enjoys me on the sleeping mat. He accepts me as a wife, friend, and companion. But I yearn for more, Zitkala; I hunger for his love. Only by sharing love can our relationship grow strong, be happy and enduring."
Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) Page 17
