The clashes were fierce and swift. At one point, Chumani's opponent pinned her to the ground and attempted to choke her. Wind Dancer, who was straddling his opponent in close proximity, kicked out forcefully with one foot and knocked the scowling Crow from his wife's imprisoned body. Chumani took advantage of the moment and grabbed a handful of dirt and flung it into the man's face; it filled his nose and eyes, causing him to lose sight of her and to interfere with his breathing. As he wiped at his watery eyes, snorted, and coughed, Chumani rammed her head into his stomach, and followed that blow with one from her knife. As the man stumbled into Red Feather, he slashed outward with his blade, running it across an exposed throat and ended the Crow's life; then he concentrated on his desperate target.
Chumani hurried to assist Zitkala with her struggle, the two women slashing him in vulnerable spots until he was too weak to resist. One final cut with Zitkala's weapon ended their conflict.
Wind Dancer observed his brother's fight. Though he wanted to help complete it before War Eagle was wounded or slain, it was not their way to intrude on another's encounter; so he would take over only if his brother became impaired. Too, he was aware of War Eagle's elite prowess, and of an expertise which was large for a man of so few seasons of battle experience. He risked a distracting glance at his best friend, to find that Red Feather was the victor. He already knew his wife and Zitkala had been successful with their battles, and had witnessed his beloved's trickery. He recalled when his eyes had been blinded by dirt during the grizzly attack, and was proud of her for using that sly tactic.
The others gathered beside him to witness War Eagle's contest. It was clear the youngest member of their band was not playing with his opponent-they were simply very well-matched. Even so, the son of Chief Rising Bear soon defeated the last enemy and after receiving only one minor cut on his left forearm and a small nick on his right shoulder. As for the others and himself, they had received only a few cuts, nicks, scrapes, and bruises; and none were serious.
Wind Dancer glanced at each fallen body and smiled. "We have won a great victory this day, my friends and loved ones," he said. "No longer will Chaheechopes and his band scout and raid our camps and slay our people. We must carry their bodies to their campfire and place the blame for this deed upon wasicun settlers or Bluecoats and their halfbreed scouts. We will take their possessions and horses as war prizes to be used later when we pull our trick at Fort Pierre. We will use the wasicun's horses we kept from our last raid to make iron-shoe marks around the Bird Warriors' campfire and we will leave the short firestick and piece of cloth from the white man's world so they will be blamed when these bodies are found by Chaheechopes' people or allies. Come, we must prepare the way to fool them, tend our injuries, and ride for home. This is a glorious day for us as companions."
The others smiled and nodded agreement, then set to work to carry out Wind Dancer's orders.
When they'd reached a safe location in Lakota territory and made camp for the night, Wind Dancer and Chumani left their companions sitting around a fire and headed over a low hill to take advantage of their last chance at privacy for a while. Though they had told the others they were taking a walk, their intent was no doubt clear. Yet, they did not care if their pretense failed to dupe anyone, as their need for each other was too great. A half-moon lighted their way as they strolled onward, and stars twinkled overhead. They had reached the season when days were warm and nights were mild. Night-blooming flowers added an extra fragrance to the air upon which the scents of day-flowers and grasses wafted in freedom. The almost ever-present wind was blowing, but the rise in terrain sheltered them on its far side from the strongest gusts.
At a secluded distance away from the others, they halted and sat down on the thick grass. For a time, they simply savored each other's company and the Creator's scenery. Soon they sank to their backs and began to talk in soft voices.
As he turned his head and looked into her luminous eyes, Wind Dancer murmured an admission he had yearned to make since they met, "You are a cunning thief, mitawin, for you have stolen my heart."
Chumani smiled and warmed, for his expression and tone revealed he was serious. "As you have stolen mine, mihigna. You fill me with love and desire for you. I am happy and honored to be your wife."
Wind Dancer rolled to his side and propped himself with an elbow. "As I am proud and happy to be your husband," he said, caressing her cheek and stroking her hair. "I was lost in you from the day your morning mist settled upon me in the Brave Heart forest. I was a man, a warrior, a hunter, and a future chief, but I was not whole and my life-circle was not complete until you entered it and filled the one remaining hole within me and my existence. I love and need you as I have no other."
Chumani lifted a hand so her fingers could trace his full and enticing lips as she disclosed, "Long before we met in the forest, you filled my mind with a craving for you after my eyes sighted you during our intertribal meeting. I could not get closer, for women do not approach men when they talk and game, but your magic reached out to me across that great distance. After our encounter in the forest, it grew as swift and high as the grass on the Plains. I believed our lives would never blend, so I tried to ignore and forget you, but you refused to leave my thoughts and dreams. After you came to my camp and claimed me, I was afraid to believe I could win your love and allegiance. My spirit soars to learn I have won a great and glorious victory. I, too, love and need you as I have no other, for you also make me whole."
"Do we dare to risk a union here where our minds will be distracted?"
Chumani could tell that he was jesting. "We lie beneath the Great Spirit's dwelling and upon Mother Earth's body, so They will protect us from all harm," she said. "I am yours, mihigna, take me."
Wind Dancer responded instantly to her words and seductive mood. His dark eyes roamed her lovely face, radiant in the moon's glow, as he murmured, "As I am yours, mitawin, so take me."
He sighed happily when she wriggled closer and snuggled against him. He had day and night dreamed of sharing special moments like this with her, and at last they had become realities. He wondered if the heartbeats he felt upon his chest were hers, his, or both of theirs. He shoved aside worries of her safety and survival during their awesome challenges, knowing he must trust Wakantanka to guard her life for him. All he wanted now was to concentrate on his wife, and their love for each other.
Chumani, too, could think of nothing except loving him. Perhaps they were risking peril by being away from the others, armed only with knives, but she was willing to take that chance. She could not seem to get enough of him-his touch, his scent, his words of passion. When he kissed her, she felt she was complete. As their mouths feasted in abundant delight, her questing hand wandered over his dark and sleek torso, her fingertips admiring his virile physique. He gave her joy, hope, and pleasure. He charged her with energy, as if renewing her very soul. He brought peace to her once-troubled spirit, and assuaged the anguish over her son's loss and caused her to long for another child. Because of him, she was excited and satisfied to be a woman and wife. He was perfection; and he belonged to her of his own free will. It would have amazed her to know those same thoughts and feelings filled him.
Hungering to caress each other's naked flesh, they quickly shed their garments and moccasins and sank to the lush blanket of green as they embraced, stroked, and kissed. Their hands, lips, and tongues roamed each other in freedom and enthusiasm. All of their senses seemed heightened. They noticed how moonlight played over sun-kissed bodies and ebony hair and created sensual shadows on each other. They felt the ticklings of grass blades and wildflower stems and blossoms, and inhaled their pleasing scents. They felt the cooling night air gently settling upon them. They heard noctural birds calling to their mates, and they heard each other's pounding heartbeats.
Wind Dancer nibbled at her earlobe, neck, and bare shoulders, his playful tongue journeying from end to end along her collarbone, teasing the dip at the center of her throat, an
d pausing at each pulse point to test his potent and mounting effect upon her. She was powerful magic; she was irresistible allure; and she belonged to and with him. His caresses and kisses grew bolder as his passions burned brighter and higher. His hand drifted over her breasts, fondling and firming them. His lips followed that blissful trail and lingered there for a while as his hand walked a slow path down her flat stomach and past her hips to enter the center of her womanhood. He felt a heat like a smoldering fire radiating from her and yearned to tantalize her to an even loftier peak of suspense.
Chumani writhed as he worked magic upon her susceptible body. She was taut with anticipation, as hot as a stone in a fire before the purification ritual. Every spot on her seemed to beckon him closer and onward. She loved and wanted him with every part of her being. She was so alive in his arms, and he was more important to her than her own survival. Not long ago, she had feared losing herself in him; now, that was all she wanted to do.
Soon, Wind Dancer thrust within the dewy core of her desire, and she welcomed his loving invasion, capturing his lower body with her legs and encircling his neck with her hands. No matter how many times they joined in this manner, it was never the same and was always better than any time before. "You are my heart and destiny, Dewdrops; I love you."
"You are my heart and destiny, mihigna, and I love you. Like your name, we will dance upon the wind this night and find great happiness."
As if by a mutual and unspoken signal, they set a steady pattern and matching pace as their soaring spirits chanted their own songs of love and enchantment. Every kiss, every caress, every word spoken was a reaffirming promise of the commitment between them. Their bodies moved together in an enthralling dance of love and bonding.
Unable to resist the urgent flood of fervent passion which swept her away in its swirling current, Chumani lost herself in its wild and wondrous course. Soon she reached a blissful crest and yielded herself to sweet triumph as she cascaded over its towering edge. Hearing her cry of pleasure, Wind Dancer let go of the weakened reins of his restraint and joined her in a burst of glorious splendor. As he gazed into her rich brown eyes during the last few moments of his climax, they seemed to gleam with contentment, great love, and intense elation-the same feelings that abounded in him.
For a short while, they cuddled together and whispered words of endearment and satisfaction.
Later, Chumani used the bladder bag she had brought with her to rinse away the pleasant aroma of their bonding and dried herself with a cloth she had secreted beneath her fringed top. Wind Dancer did the same. They pulled on their garments and moccasins, kissed and embraced, and returned to their campfire which was now burning low.
They decided their friends were either asleep or were successful in pretending to be so. They exchanged smiles when they noticed their buffalo mat had been spread out for them, and they reclined upon it. With a thin blanket covering their nestled bodies, they eased into peaceful slumber.
As the returning party entered their camp, the shaman and others came to greet them. All five stared at the elderly man with white hair and weathered skin as Nahemana disclosed astonishing news to them.
"After you rode from camp many suns past, I went into the sacred hills and ate the peyote so the Creator could speak to me. Wakantanka gave me a vision of powerful medicine which calmed my troubled mind. He showed me the Old Woman's dog companion sitting at her feet as she quilled the Life-Hide. Soon he looked toward a forest and raced that way, making no sound as he traveled. When he returned, he carried a Crow quiver with many arrows. He sat down at her feet again and chewed upon it until it was destroyed, as their threat to us will be destroyed with his help."
Wind Dancer exchanged looks of amazement with his companions. "We left camp to seek a Crow scouting or raiding parry to defeat and blame their slayings on the wasicun, " he explained. "but the Creator rewarded us by crossing our paths with Four Wolves, the enemy who led the attacks against us two winters past and since the last full moon, and the attack on the White Shield camp which claimed the life of Dewdrops' son. He and his band are dead."
Though it was not their custom to interrupt another while speaking and he had not waited to see if the chief's oldest son was finished, an anxious Raven asked, "Why do the Strong Hearts and Sacred Bow Carriers not attack our enemies in the open where we can strike many coups against them and show we do not fear them and are great warriors? Why does a small band pull sneak attacks we can not share with our friends and allies?"
"The Strong Hearts and Sacred Bow Carriers are needed here, Raven, to guard our camp and people," Wind Dancer clarified, "for the Crow are sly and lack the honor and courage to fight us on even ground. The plan we use was given to me in my sacred vision and was placed in the thoughts of Dewdrops by the Creator," Wind Dancer reminded him and those gathered around him. "It is meant to evoke hatred, mistrust, and war between Whites and Crow. Their peoples are abundant, and the Bluecoats have mighty weapons. Do not forget the soldiers have a big firestick which swiftly sends forth many hard balls and tears into a warrior's body and slays him. We cannot remove enlodged balls and have no medicines to treat such strange wounds. If we allow them to make truce and come at us as one large force, we will be destroyed."
"My grandson speaks with truth and wisdom," Nahemana told Raven, as he had witnessed the destructive force of the howitzer when it was fired long ago at Fort Pierre.
"Tell us of your challenge and victory," Blue Owl coaxed.
Wind Dancer looked at the war chief and said, "As in Grandfather's powerful vision, a Spirit Dog helped us defeat the Crow band." While his family and people observed and listened in awe, he related the details of that victorious episode. Then he revealed, "We could not find the arrow quiver of Four Wolves which the Spirit Dog snatched and vanished with into the forest; he took it to the Old Woman Who Quills as Grandfather was shown by He-Who-Created-And-Knows-All-Things."
That night, the Red Shields celebrated a glorious victory over the Crow party that had attacked them twice in a vicious and despicable manner. Following a feast and the second retelling of the great deed, Wind Dancer walked around a huge campfire in a large clearing beyond the scattered tepees as he held aloft Chaheechopes's war shield, bow, and scalplock for all to view. As he did so, the Strong Hearts performed their society dance and they chanted his and Red Feather's coups to honor their fellow members.
Afterward, the Sacred Bow Carriers did the same for War Eagle as he displayed the war prizes he had collected. Then both societies chanted the recent coups of Chumani and Zitkala, who sat on either side of Rising Bear in places of great esteem. The chief wore a broad smile of pleasure and pride for his three loved ones, his son's best friend, and their Brule companion. As the two women were being praised for their courage and skills, Winona reached over and gave Chumani's hand a gentle squeeze, and smiled in affection, respect, and gratitude.
Chumani returned the gesture, then looked at Cetan who was perched on a thick leather strip on Hanmani's shoulder and appeared at ease there with his bandaged wing. She watched his head move from side to side as if he was following the animated talk between the girl and her best friend, Macha. She glanced down at the strip secured around her left forearm where she had sustained a minor injury during the recent clash. She had been tended to by Hanmani and Dawn who wanted to practice their medicine skills. The others in the visionquest party also had been tended again, by Winona and others who found great pleasure in doing those good deeds.
Chumani was glad when the activities ended and it was time to return to their tepee. She was both exhilarated and weary, for she had not gotten much sleep last night. Even so, she was not regretful, as she had spent the night blissfully in her husband's arms, laying in the grass and making love. Just recalling it warmed her body and spirit. She could hardly wait for Zitkala and Red Feather to experience such joy, and her two friends appeared to grow closer every sun and moon.
Once she was in her tepee, sleep failed to come. Too many th
oughts filled her mind. Soon she would be reunited with her family and people when the two bands would jointly hunt the buffalo as was their summer custom and that elated her. The entire band would move to the vast grasslands where small groups of men and women would leave to spend many suns away from the others as the warriors hunted that game which was vital to their survival and the females skinned and gutted the massive animals where they fell. Young braves would transport the meat and hides back to camp on travois to be divided and prepared by each family.
She knew it was a lengthy and arduous task; and every family was expected to do its share of the work. In the large encampment, wooden racks would be constructed for hanging strips of meat while they dried and became papa saka. Other portions of meat would be packed in parHeches to be consumed as was. The remaining sections would be sun-and-air dried and pounded almost to powder, mixed with berries and hot fat, allowed to cool, then formed into rolls of wakapapi wasna. The latter was the main source of their nourishment in the winter, as it would not spoil for many circles of the seasons if made properly.
She had performed those chores many times in past seasons and knew them well. Though she had hunted smaller game to help feed her parents and others, she had never gone after buffalo because her father, brother, and male members of her band had believed that was too dangerous for a woman; and she was told her help was needed more by the females with their labors. Being an obedient daughter and tribe member, she had honored her father's command.
Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) Page 20
