Wearily he rubbed the back of his neck. In the morning they would head out again, and there was every reason to believe they would meet up with the Blackfoot, who might very well object to the intrusion into their territory.
No one knew much about this particular tribe, so there was no telling if he would be offered the hand of friendship, or the war lance.
Chapter Thirty-one
In a hastily assembled council meeting, Wind Warrior explained to the elders and Broken Lance that he felt they should move the village as soon as possible.
“I do not understand your reason,” Running Elk stated, taking a draw on a pipe and watching the smoke circle above him. “You have said nothing that convinces me we should leave when we are already settled for the winter.”
Wind Warrior shook his head. “I cannot give you a reason, except to say I feel it in my mind, in my head. I feel it so strongly I left my wife, who is with child, to bring you this warning.”
Broken Lance took a puff on the pipe Running Elk handed him, and nodded. “Each time we have followed Wind Warrior’s advice, it has been proven sound. But to move the women and children this late in the year is a major undertaking.”
“That is so,” one of the other elders agreed. “It will cause hardship for many.”
Wind Warrior placed his hand on his father-in-law’s shoulder. “You know I would not be here if I did not feel great need. I sense danger. Where it will come from, I do not know. I only know it is real, and it is imminent.”
Broken Lance nodded. “Then let us have our women make ready to leave. It will take at least two days for that.”
“Two days,” Wind Warrior said, frowning. “I press you to make ready in one day. Leave behind that which you cannot take. Lives are more precious than possessions.”
Broken Lance looked into the young warrior’s eyes and knew there was danger for those who did not follow his advice. “Let us call everyone together. We will be ready to leave in one day.”
The elders finally nodded in agreement.
“Let us see it done,” Broken Lance said. “I trust in Wind Warrior’s words.”
At that moment raised voices were heard in the village and Falling Thunder rode to the council lodge, jumping from his horse and rushing inside. “I saw many soldiers camped not more than a day’s ride from here! They are heavily armed and it looks like they are coming this way.”
Those who had not been convinced by Wind Warrior’s warning now stared at him in wonder. Everyone quickly scattered to their own tipis to help get their families out of the village and into the foothills.
Wind Warrior followed Broken Lance outside. “I must leave at once and return to Rain Song. We will join you in the foothills.” When Wind Warrior took a step, he stumbled, catching Broken Lance’s arm to keep from falling.
“You are ill, my son?”
“I am but weary. I have not slept. I ran all the way.”
The chief’s eyes were troubled. “Then you must rest.”
“I dare not. Dull Knife searches for Rain Song. You understand I did not want to leave her.”
Broken Lance nodded, seeing for the first time the torment Wind Warrior suffered because of his spiritual gift. “Take my swiftest horse. Tall Woman will see that you have food to sustain you.”
A short time later Wind Warrior raced out of the village on a spirited mare. He had done all he could to help his people. Now he would return to Rain Song.
Suddenly a feeling of dread touched his mind and tears choked him. Something was wrong.
He would not make it back to her in time.
Chapter Thirty-two
In the chill of the early autumn afternoon, Rain Song listened to the lonesome call of the elk that echoed down the valley. Draped in a fur robe, she shivered.
She had awakened to frosty air, and as the day progressed, it had grown colder. It was now late afternoon and dark clouds rolled across the horizon. It looked as though it might snow before morning.
Gazing across the small valley toward the stream, Rain Song tried to spot Chinook. The wolf had left hours ago and had not yet returned. It was unusual for Chinook to stay away so long.
If only she could light a fire to warm herself. But Wind Warrior had warned her against it, so she dared not.
Gazing across the valley, she watched a mother bear leading her two cubs up the side of a mountain, no doubt going into hibernation. The sound of a howling wolf filled the chilled air, while an eagle patrolled the air in search of prey. A mountain goat, with its majestic curved horns, fleetly bounded up a seemingly impassable rock slope and disappeared over the top.
Wind Warrior had taught her to observe everything around her, and she had done so to fill the long days he had been gone. Life abounded here in this place, and yet Rain Song felt the heavy hand of loneliness. She noticed the way the swaying pines dappled the ground around them and then turned her gaze upward to a weak sun whose light barely pierced the gathering clouds.
Wind Warrior had been gone for five days, and she doubted that was enough time for him to reach the village, much less make it back to her.
Smiling, she touched her stomach. She carried a part of her husband with her. If the baby was a boy, she would want him to have Wind Warrior’s coloring and his beautiful brown eyes.
With a heavy sigh, she entered the cave, pulling another robe over herself. She blew on her frozen fingers. She heard a familiar yelp, and Chinook came bounding into the cave. Rain Song cheered up as the wolf dropped down in front of her and stared into her eyes.
“Are you trying to tell me something, or are you trying to avoid a scolding for leaving me alone all day?”
Chinook whined.
“I know,” she said, rubbing a huge paw. “I miss him too.”
Rain Song laid out a chunk of dried meat for Chinook, but since the wolf showed no interest in it, she assumed the animal had been hunting on her own. “You probably had fresh meat, while I will have to make do with this.”
It was growing colder. She had to do something to block the wind that was sweeping through the cave. After finding several branches, she dragged them forward and braced them against the entrance as she had seen Wind Warrior do that night when he had first brought her to the mountain.
The branches helped a little, but the wind still managed to find its way through the wide cracks. Tomorrow she would look for more branches.
Shadows stretched across the cave, darkening the corners. Rain Song lay down on a soft robe and covered herself with two others. Chinook curled up against her, sharing her warmth. Thinking of Wind Warrior, Rain Song finally fell into a fretful sleep.
Dull Knife climbed higher as the sun rose on a new morning.
Rain Song was somewhere ahead and he would find her. A blast of cold air struck and he reeled under the impact. It was reasonable that Wind Warrior would not have left her without some protection from the cold.
He should be looking for a cave.
Raising his head, he searched the cliffs. If he found no cave in this valley, he would go on to the next one. He would not give up until he found Rain Song.
Suddenly he spied something out of place. It might be a cave, but it was high up the steep cliff. It looked strange, as if someone had propped tree branches against the rock wall.
He struggled upward. Gripping the side of the mountain and hoisting his body forward, he found the climb harder than it looked. Just a little farther and he would be able to see if what he’d spotted was an encampment.
He hunkered down, gauging the situation. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, except the branches. His eyes gleamed. It was a cave. Animals did not drag branches and block cave entrances—only humans did that.
He clamped his jaws together tightly, feeling great satisfaction.
He had found her.
Chinook leaped to her feet, alert. The wolf quivered, her eyes piercing the darkness of the cave, picking up the smell of man. Nudging Rain Song, Chinook made no sound, instinctively know
ing there was a need for silence.
Sleepily, Rain Song pushed Chinook away.
Chinook continued nudging Rain Song’s hand, then licking her chin.
“Go away, Chinook. Let me sleep.”
The wolf persisted, and Rain Song opened her eyes. Chinook was in an attack stance, quivering, alert. Quietly easing to her feet, Rain Song reached for the knife, gripping the handle and trying to remember what Wind Warrior had told her about using it. He had warned against allowing the adversary to get too close. He’d told her to keep her wrist stiff or the knife would not fly true when she threw it. He’d taught her that the knife would rotate before it hit the target. She had practiced with him, but she had not mastered the knife well enough to be a threat to anyone or anything.
If it was a predatory animal, Rain Song certainly did not want to get too close.
A sound brought a rumble to the wolf’s throat. Rain Song watched as someone removed several of the branches at the cave entrance. She knew who it was even before he called out to her.
Dull Knife!
Knowing she would be no match for him, she slid the knife into her bag and waited for him to enter. “Stay beside me,” she warned Chinook. Dull Knife would not hesitate to kill her wolf, and she could not live with that. She placed a calming hand on the wolf’s head. “Stay.”
It took Dull Knife a moment for his eyes to become accustomed to the darkness inside the cave. “Order the wolf to attack and I will kill it,” he warned, seeing only the shadowy outline of the woman and the glowing yellow eyes of the animal.
“What do you want?” Rain Song was surprised how steady her voice sounded. She was terrified. “There is nothing for you here. My husband will be back any moment and he will not like finding you with me.”
“You lie,” Dull Knife snarled. “My brother has left you, although I cannot imagine why he would abandon such a prize.” He stepped closer. “Do you fear me?”
The hackles rose on Chinook’s neck, but Rain Song kept a calming hand on her head.
“What do you want?” she asked.
He stepped even closer, although it was still too dark to make out her face. “I want you.”
“You do not want me as much as you want to cause Wind Warrior pain.”
“That much is true. So I advise you to come with me peaceably or I will kill the wolf, and then when he returns, which he surely will, I will kill my brother.”
In wild terror, Rain Song took a step back, coming against the cave wall. “I will not go with you.” Now her voice did tremble. “Go away! Leave me alone!”
“I cannot do that. I have wanted you, ached for you, but you never looked my way.”
“You raped and killed my friend Susan. Do you think I could ever want a man who committed such an atrocity?”
He was quiet for a moment. Now he understood why she had always despised him. It had been a mistake for him to kill the young white woman, but he could not change what was already done. Dull Knife decided that if Rain Song would obey him, he would treat her gently until she learned to trust him. But have her he would, eventually.
“You have no choice. Come with me now.”
The first streaks of daylight had penetrated the inside of the cave and Rain Song cringed when she looked into Dull Knife’s cold, black eyes. There was no doubt he would kill Chinook if she did not do just what he said.
She thought of the baby she carried within her, and she was afraid he would kill her too if he learned of the child.
Taking a deep breath and lowering her head, she said, “I will go with you.”
A look of satisfaction flashed across Dull Knife’s countenance. “A wise decision. Dress warmly. I will gather supplies for our journey.”
Rain Song bent to retrieve the bag she had slipped the knife into. She could feel her wolf quiver beneath her hand, waiting for her to give the order to attack. “You will not harm Chinook?”
“I will not if you command her to remain here.”
“I do not know if that is possible. She will eventually follow me. Perhaps if I tie her to a tree,” Rain Song said hopefully.
He pointed to the wolf. “Then do it. I’ll watch you,” Dull Knife said. “I want to make sure you tie the rope tight.” He smiled, as if he had just thought of something humorous. “Chinook can welcome my brother when he returns.”
A short time later Chinook pulled and jerked on the rope that Rain Song had used to secure her to the trunk of a pine tree. Going down on her knees, she slid her arms around the wolf. “Forgive me. You have to stay here. I do not want you to be hurt.”
As Rain Song stood and hurried away, Chinook threw back her head and gave a mournful cry.
Rain Song wanted to weep and wail too—she wanted to drive her blade into Dull Knife’s heart. But she could do none of that. She stood stiffly before Dull Knife. “I am ready.”
He slung the bag of supplies he had gathered over his shoulder and motioned Rain Song forward. “Stay in front of me until we reach the steep part of the mountain.”
With a last glance at Chinook, Rain Song walked slowly away, once more Dull Knife’s captive.
Chapter Thirty-three
Major Worthington held up his hand as a signal for the troops to halt. Across the river was what remained of an abandoned Indian camp. “Sergeant, take two men and check around. See what you can find.”
Moments later the three men rode back across the river.
“There was a large village there, all right, sir,” the sergeant reported. “And it hasn’t been more than a day or so since they pulled up stakes.”
“They knew we were coming,” the major said. He motioned for Lillian, who had been riding at the back of the column, to come forward.
Lillian stared openmouthed at the remains of the Blackfoot village. Some tipis still stood, although most of them had been taken down. There was broken pottery scattered everywhere. “They left in a hurry,” she told the major. “It’s unheard of for them to leave anything behind.”
“Let’s ride across, soldiers. Look sharp,” Major Worthington ordered. “I don’t want any surprises.”
“The woman’s right, sir,” Sergeant Sanderson observed, cocking his rifle. “These Blackfoot left in a mighty big rush.”
“Why do you suppose that is, Miss Baskin?” the major asked.
She shook her head, frowning. “There doesn’t seem to have been a battle. The only thing I can think is that Wind Warrior sensed you were on the way and warned them. He’s made them move the village before, and they listen to him.”
The major turned in his saddle and stared at her incredulously. “What do you mean he sensed we were coming?”
Lillian raised her hands in a hopeless gesture. “Wind Warrior sees things. The Blackfoot think he’s some kind of mystical warrior. They say he sees the future and animals talk to him.”
The officer stared at her. “That’s nonsense. I have heard of this Wind Warrior, but I don’t believe the stories they tell about him.”
“I’m not saying I believe it, I’m saying the Blackfoot do.” Lillian looked at the scattered remnants of the village and shivered. “But to be truthful with you, I’ve seen him look into the mist and save his people. Believe me, anything you heard about him is probably true. He’s the one who took Marianna as his woman.”
“We will camp here tonight,” Major Worthington said, urging his horse into the Milk River. “Send out a scout in each direction, Sergeant. I want to know where this tribe of Blackfoot have disappeared to.”
Lillian rode to the other side of the river and dismounted. Dull Knife’s tipi was still standing. That meant he had not been in the village when the others left. Curious, she moved through what should have been a thriving village.
There was trouble here. Possibly between Dull Knife and Wind Warrior. She frowned. The mystery eluded her. Glancing toward the mountains, she wondered if the two brothers had at last met in a final battle. If so, which one had survived, and where was Rain Song?
&n
bsp; Heavy snow swirled down the mountain pass and whipped through gullies with punishing force.
Unable to see what was in front of her, Rain Song clung to Dull Knife’s hand. Each step she took was torture. The wind tore at her hair; particles of ice and snow stung her face and eyes. Wind Warrior would never find her in this storm.
“Can we not stop?” she called loudly so Dull Knife would hear her above the roar of the wind. “I am weary.”
Dull Knife pulled her forward. “No. To stop now could mean our deaths. We have to get off this mountain.”
Taking a painful breath, Rain Song faltered, too tired to take another step. Seeing her exhaustion, Dull Knife pulled her to the sheltered side of a huge bolder, allowing her to rest.
“I am sorry to push you so hard,” he said, pulling the fur wrap about her head, “but this storm is only going to get worse.”
Rain Song blinked her eyes. She had never known Dull Knife to apologize, and she did not trust his motives. “I cannot go on.”
His grip tightened on her arm. “You will, even if I have to carry you,” he threatened.
“It will soon be dark. There is danger if we continue without being able to see where we are going.”
He pulled her against him. “I know you are stalling so Wind Warrior can catch up, but you would do well to forget about him. You will never again be with my brother in this lifetime.”
Rain Song swallowed a sob. She felt sick to her stomach, and her legs and arms ached painfully. But Dull Knife pulled her forward and she had no choice but to follow.
In this nightmare world of swirling white, she felt as if she were dying inside. She had to survive for her baby…and for Wind Warrior.
Her feet were so frozen she could no longer feel them. She took one painful step after another, each carrying her farther away from her beloved. Yet when Rain Song closed her eyes, she could see him.
He would grieve when he found her gone, and he would blame himself for leaving her.
Wind Warrior (Historical Romance) Page 20
