Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance)

by Janelle Taylor

  "Do our people object to Red Feather's interest in Zitkala?" Wind Dancer asked for the Brule women's benefit.

  Rising Bear glanced at the woman in question and smiled. "We did not tell them those words, for Red Feather has not revealed them and it was not our place to do so while he was gone. But I am sure his parents and our people will be happy for him to take a mate during the coming season. It will be good to be twice bonded to our allies, the White Shields."

  Zitkala smiled and thanked the chief for his kind remarks. She had not expected her relationship with Red Feather to be exposed before they had grown closer and made a decision about a future together. She could not help but worry about the effect of that news upon him, as his "interest" might not be that serious yet, or ever.

  Afterward, Winona and Hanmani served the food and water; and all sat on buffalo hides and rush mats to eat and talk together. Once more, the tale of their adventure was related and discussed, as was their next journey.

  It was after dark when they parted company. Wind Dancer, Chumani and Zitkala went to his tepee to sleep. Cetan rested nearby on a temporary perch, happy to have his longtime companion returned. It was as if he understood that another, a man, now shared her life and affections. Even so, he grasped she still loved and needed him. Yet, an instinct deep within him yearned for a mate of his own and soon he must seek and find one.

  The following morning, Chumani went to the cansakawakeya to spend the next few days beading and quilling during her woman's flow. While she was there, Hanmani would tend her hawk, and Zitkala would cook and do chores for Wind Dancer and bring her food and water.

  As she settled herself in the secluded willow shelter, she wished there had been time and privacy to discuss Red Feather with her best friend. She could not help but hope and pray they two would join and Zitkala remain there. She did not want to imagine how it would hurt her friend if that relationship failed to become more than friendship, as she was certain Zitkala was in love with Wiyaka Lute and wanted to become his wife and mother of his children.

  Children ... The appearance of her blood flow told Chumani she was not with child, though she had mated many times with her husband. She decided it was not the season for her to bear a son or daughter and the Great Spirit prevented that condition to keep her a part of the sacred quest. She now looked forward to becoming a mother again, especially since the baby would be fathered by Wind Dancer, a man she loved deeply. Just thinking of him caused her to quiver with renewed passion and her heart to sing with joy. She was so fortunate the Great Spirit had chosen them for each other and crossed their paths, that total trust and acceptance existed between and within them.

  As she worked in solitude, she thought about the challenging and dangerous adventures which loomed before them. Within a few moons, their party of five would be leaving again to carry out their next daring and cunning task against the Bird Warriors. Afterward, they would head for the Plains with the Red Shields where their two bands would camp and hunt buffalo together, and where she would be reunited with her family and people for a short time. From that site, they would head for the trading post at Fort Pierre and hopefully dupe the Whites living there. To prepare herself for that perilous encounter and trickery, she practiced the Crow and English languages.

  She was all too cognizant that if their cunning ploys succeeded, the Crow and Whites would be too busy battling each other to give them trouble during their annual buffalo hunt and ensuing move to their winter camp. But if they failed and were exposed, the Bird Warriors, white settlers, and soldiers would wreak vengeance upon them with a fury.

  At dusk on the third sun later, Chumani carried out the customary departure ritual of bathing and donning clean garments. When she arrived at her tepee, she found Zitkala sitting and eating with Wind Dancer and Red Feather, savoring a deer stew and bread made from trade-corn.

  The three greeted her with delight, and, after putting away her sewing, she joined them to eat and talk.

  As they chatted, Chumani noted how radiant and happy Zitkala was. She noticed the smiling woman was wearing a fringed dress with lovely beading and a decorative ornament in her dark hair, which hung loose tonight around her shoulders. She realized Zitkala no longer wore a wide and tight band around her ample breasts to flatten them to conceal her femininity. Instead, her friend seemed to be trying to heighten feminine attributes, and she was succeeding. Her face seemed slightly fuller and softer, her hands were no longer rough, and white edges grew from the tips of her normally short or ragged nails. Even Zitkala's hair seemed thicker, shinier, and more flattering to her face. It was undeniable that no one could mistake Zitkala for a man.

  Chumani was thrilled by those discoveries, elated for her best friend, and not surprised by their powerful effect upon Red Feather, who could not seem to keep his glowing gaze off the other woman. She closed her eyes for a moment and thanked Wakantanka for that gift and blessing.

  That next morning, Nahemana came to their tepee to relate the alarming dream he had experienced during the previous night: "I saw the Old Woman Who Quills At The Edge Of The World; she was alone. Her dog companion was gone, stolen, slain, or left of his own free will. That is a bad sign, micinksi and Dewdrops, for if he is dead or fails to return to her side to unravel her day's quilling, our world as we know it will soon end."

  "Do not worry, Grandfather." Wind Dancer attempted to assure the old man, "for it was only a dream, not a sacred vision to warn us of danger. Perhaps you dreamed of a dog because I told you of the strange creature Dewdrops saw in the forest during our return."

  "It was a sign from the Great Spirit, micinksi, for the moon was full and holds much magic when her face is bright. I fear for your safety."

  "Do not be afraid or doubtful, Grandfather, for Wakantanka guides and protects us. Perhaps He sends the Spirit Dog as a helper to us during our tasks, for Cetan is injured and cannot go with us as planned."

  Nahemana smiled. "Perhaps that is true. Perhaps I misread the message. Perhaps that is why he appeared to Dewdrops. Perhaps an evil spirit showed me her camp while he was gone to raise fears and doubts. I will seek another vision at the sacred mountain to give us answers."

  Four suns later at dusk, Wind Dancer, Chumani, War Eagle, Red Feather, and Zitkala lay pressed to the ground and concealed by tall grass as they spied on a small band of Crow warriors at the edge of their territory. They had left their horses secreted in a dense treeline and wriggled their way closer to the scene where seven men sat around a campfire, talking and laughing and wearing warpaint upon their faces, a sign of their evil intent.

  As one turned to retrieve something from behind him, Wind Dancer and Chumani inhaled in astonishment at the same time then looked at each other in shock. Here at last was the enemy who had led the lethal raids against their two camps two winters past, the raids which had taken the lives of their mates, sons, and others. At long last, their target was within reach.

  Wind Dancer's gaze narrowed as he studied the Crow warrior whose face was painted half black and half red and displayed black coyote tracks traveling atop the lighter shade. He clenched his jaw. Hatred and a hunger for revenge consumed him. "We must attack and slay them. Their leader belongs to me. He is a dead man."

  "They are seven and we are five, my brother," War Eagle reasoned in a whisper. "They camp in the open, so we can not sneak up on them. Their weapons are within reach. It is foolish to challenge such forces who are prepared to retaliate swiftly. We must wait for them to sleep."

  "No, my brother; we must attack while my blood is hot for battle. If we wait, others may come and their number would be too great to challenge. We can defeat seven. I will not allow him to escape my knife again. Prepare yourselves, for we attack soon."

  "Speak to him, Dewdrops, for this peril is great," War Eagle urged.

  "I cannot, for he thinks and acts as I do," she responded.

  "Your hearts are too filled with bitterness to have clear minds." War Eagle argued. "Do you not think it is strange t
hey camp in the open? Perhaps others hide in the trees and below the ravine beyond them and they set a trap for us. Is that not the way of the Crow leader who brings fire to your heart?"

  "That is true, my brother, but they do not know we are nearby. Do you think they set a snare with hopes we will ride upon them and fall into it?" Wind Dancer reasoned. "No, they camp outside the cover of the forest because their pride is too large, and they believe we are far away preparing to leave for the Plains."

  "Our bows are with our horses, my brother. We must fetch them and send arrows into their camp and bodies before we rush out upon them. If others hide nearby, our action will lure them into the open and it will give us time to escape if their number is too large for us to battle.

  Wind Dancer considered his brother's words. They had left their bows behind because crawling on one's belly was easier without bringing them along. They had intended to scout the enemy camp, return for their mounts, and attack on horseback. "If we return to our horses, our presence will be seen. The wind no longer blows strong and moves the grasses to conceal us. We must fall upon them with our knives and take them by surprise."

  "Perhaps it is us who will be surprised, my brother." War Eagle did not want to point out that two members of their party were women. He had been told tales of their great prowess, but were they skilled and strong enough to fight trained warriors in hand-to-hand combat? Too, he could not understand why his older brother would risk endangering his mate's life. And should not Red Feather want to protect Zitkala? Yet, it would be rude and wrong to ask such questions, as it could sound as if he was implying revenge was more important than his wife's life. He had to trust his brother and do what he was told, for that was their way.

  As Wind Dancer looked over at War Eagle, Chumani's gaze widened as her eyes caught a strange sight. "Be still and look there," she told them.

  As the two men's gazes followed the nod of her head, all five in their group saw a huge dog whose thick fur and large eyes were so pale a gray that they shone like silver in the brilliant rays of reflective sunlight. He had seemed to appear as if by magic, as if Mother Earth had spewed him forth from her fertile body. Though he made no sound, the swift and agile animal raced forward, snatched the Crow leader's quiver of arrows that was laying behind him, and rushed with lightning speed into the dense forest near their hiding place. They heard the astonished man shout at the animal, saw him leap to his feet and run after the sneaky and daring thief.

  "It is the Spirit Dog I saw in the forest many moons past." Chumani whispered in awed. "He has come to help us defeat our enemies and we must follow his head. He has summoned our target away from his friends."

  "Stay here while I trail and slay him," Wind Dancer commanded. "Do not attack the others until I return and give the signal."

  Since he was their leader, the other four knew his orders must be obeyed. They remained low to the earth, still and silent, while Wind Dancer wriggled backward toward the trees.

  Chumani noted a strong breeze had returned to vigorously sway the tall grass and wildflowers, cleverly masking her husband's retreat. Surely, she concluded, the Creator and the forces of nature and the elements were on their side today. Even so, she closed her eyes and prayed for her beloved's safety. She heard the other six foes laugh and call out to their friend, amused by the incident, and revealing his name as Chaheechopes, meaning "Four Wolves." She glanced at Zitkala, who sent her a smile of encouragement and then she looked at Red Feather beside Zitkala, but his gaze was locked on their foes and a knife was clutched in one hand as if ready to respond to any threat. She noticed, too, that Red Feather's other hand was resting atop Zitkala's. A warm glow traveled over her body to see that display of affection. Her gaze returned to the six Apsaalooke who sat cross-legged around their campfire and she focused her full attention upon them, eager for her husband's safe return.

  In the woods, Wind Dancer sneaked up behind the man and sneered, "What prize do you seek on Oglala hunting grounds, suska?" As the Crow whirled to face him, he taunted, "Why do you not shout for your friends to come and save you from a warrior who stands high above you in skills?"

  "I need no help to slay one lowly Oglala boy. Your eyes trick you; I am not slow or worthless. Send forth your death chant, for soon you will walk the Ghost Trail with others of your kind."

  "I know your face paint," Wind Dancer hissed. "You are the coward who preys upon camps with women, children, and old ones while warriors are away hunting. Do you fear to enter them when we are there to battle against you?"

  "I seek to kill all Lakotas, for Lakotas attacked my camp and took the lives of my family. If boys are slain, they cannot become men. If women are slain, they cannot bring forth more sons to follow their fathers in battle. If old ones are slain, it steals the joy and spirit of their families."

  "It was not the Red Shields or the White Shields who killed your family, for we do not attack the innocents. We are true warriors; we fight only men, as it was meant to be."

  "You lie, son of Rising Bear."

  Wind Dancer stared at the man. "You know me?"

  "I know the faces of all enemies who will gain me large coups. I will take your scalp and possessions to my camp to show others I took your life."

  "Then come and do so, Crow dog, if you have the courage and prowess."

  A fierce fight ensued as the two men struggled. They used knives, fists, feet, and hurled bodies to thwart the opponent's efforts. They seemed equally matched in ability, stamina, and strength. The conflict went on and on until their energy was drained, sweat beaded on their faces and torsos, and dust clung to their hair and garments.

  But soon the Crow was taken off guard when the silver dog grabbed at one legging and snatched back on it, pulling him off balance. He stumbled backward and struck the ground, knocking the air from his lungs and preventing a yell of help when his rival leapt upon his fallen body, raised his armed hand, and buried a blade within his heart.

  Wind Dancer stared down at his dead foe. He extracted his knife and looked all around, but the strange dog was gone. Then he heard another Crow shouting for his friend as a second Bird Warrior headed his way.

  Wind Dancer hurriedly and quietly dragged the body into the bushes and concealed himself. As soon as he saw his new target and made sure the man was alone, he charged at the Crow from behind, simultaneously clamping a hand over his mouth to silence him and burying the knife in the center of his foe's back. The Crow reflexively arched toward him and tried to scream, then went limp in his captor's grasp.

  Wind Dancer realized two were gone, leaving five in both groups now. He started to retrieve their bows and quivers, but decided that would take too long, as their horses were a good distance away in hiding; and the other five Crow might be getting suspicious. He took a brief time to search for the first Crow's quiver, but could not find it. He made his way back to the others and related his two clashes. "I think the dog belongs to the Old Woman Who Quills," Wind Dancer concluded. "When Grandfather saw him missing from her side and camp, it was because he was being sent to help us slay our enemies and make peace with our pasts. He vanished as the mist after the sun rises; he has returned to her side and our world is safe. Now our sons have been avenged, mitawin, and they can rest in happiness."

  "It is good, mihigna, and my heart thanks you for that deed."

  "Look," Zitkala whispered, "they go to seek their missing friends."

  The hidden group peered through waving stalks of grass and dancing wildflowers and saw the five Crow heading toward the forest with weapons clutched in their hands. They heard one call out the names of the two who had vanished earlier. It was obvious they were on full alert for trouble, but Wind Dancer told his four companions he had concealed the bodies in thick bushes and brushed away all signs on the ground of their struggles.

  "We will slip into the trees and await their approach. When they walk between us, we will leap upon them and defeat them," Wind Dancer began, then added other cunning details for their impend
ing assault.

  "Your plan is good, my brother," said War Eagle.

  The two men exchanged smiles of affection and mutual respect before their band made a covert entry into the forest. They secreted themselves amidst the ample vegetation which grew on both sides of a well-worn animal path; they hoped their enemies would follow this path as the first two had done. Wind Dancer hoped to allow them to catch a glimpse of him to provoke them into chasing him into a trap. They waited in rising suspense as they heard one man call out again for his missing friends and heard his companions make speculations as to whether their disappearances were the result of trouble or if a joke was being played on them; and they seemed to lean toward the latter explanation.

  Soon, the Apsaalooke approached their position; and they curled their bodies into tight balls near the earth and in the thickest parts of the greenery surrounding them. When their foes slowly moved between them on the narrow trail, Wind Dancer simultaneously let out a war whoop-the attack signal-and lunged from his hiding place, his outstretched arms seizing two startled Bird Warriors around their throats and his momentum carrying all three into the opposite bushes where Chumani was concealed.

  Without delay, his companions sprang into action. Chumani jumped atop one fallen warrior, the smallest of the Crow party, though she was certain his strength and probably his skills were superior to hers. Zitkala shot out her feet to entangle and trip a third, Red Feather leapt upon and locked on to a fourth's back, and War Eagle charged the fifth astonished man. While they had the advantage of surprise, Chumani sliced across the right-hand fingers of her target to weaken his grasp, which compelled him to drop his weapon. Zitkala bounded upon her quarry's back and buried her knife in the writhing man's shoulder, though she had wanted to send the blade into his heart. As Red Feather rode his captive, who bucked like a wild horse, he sliced at the man's face and neck, scoring many cuts and infuriating him. War Eagle slammed his lowered shoulder into his opponent's abdomen and stunned him; and Wind Dancer thrashed in the bushes and vegetation as he attempted to overpower the largest and strongest enemy amongst all of them.