Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) Read online

  He wanted her to give herself to Wind Dancer ... "But, Father, he is not Brule; he is not White Shield."

  "That does not matter in perilous times, my child. He is a worthy man; he has the skills to protect you and to provide for you."

  "But who will do those things for you and Mother if I leave camp? My brother cannot do so, for he has his own tepee and family to care for."

  Tall Elk laughed. "I am still young and strong enough to defend my mate and hunt for our food," he said. "I only allow you to do so because it pleases you and gives you practice with your skills. This is the meaning behind Sees-Through-Mist's dream and his gifts to you." And it will take you off of danger's path. "You will be the wife of a powerful chief when Rising Bear walks the Ghost Trail; your son will he chief when his father is gone. Those are great honors, my child, and our bond to them will last forever."

  At that difficult and shocking moment, a tribal alliance between Brule and Oglala was not foremost in her mind, though she told herself that was selfish and wrong. Both tribes were members of the Seven Council Fires of the Lakota, but why had the Red Shields picked the White Shields to ally with, and why at this particular time? Why not select another Oglala band, such as Red Cloud's or Black Hawk's? Or another Brule Band, such as Spotted Tail's? Any of those bands were larger and more aggressive than her people's desirable qualities to help defeat the Crow and Whites, especially if those two enemy forces banded together. Had Wind Dancer-she mused in a rush-lusted for her as the brave had for White Buffalo Maiden, Pte Skawin, discovered her identity and location, and was using this deception to lay claim to her? A strong and irresistible man like him would devour her, would try to change her. On the other hand, she might have offended him during their first encounter and earned his dislike and disrespect, and perhaps he felt challenged to prove he could conquer her, or punish her. And no doubt a man like him was already taken by another woman, if just one would he enough!

  The patient and astute Tall Elk had waited in silence while his daughter meditated on the serious matter before them. He had mixed feelings about asking his child to make this sacrifice of herself. On one side, he was proud and happy she had been chosen for the sacred task ahead and for a union with a great warrior. On the other side, he felt guilty about the past torment she had endured. He had been the one to persuade her to join to Dull Star when she reached twenty-one winters, was mateless and childless; and Dull Star had proven himself a warrior and had asked for her in joining. That mistake in judgment had cost him the lives of his grandson, his parents, his wife's parents, along with many others.

  Dull Star had been left in charge of their camp two winters past when most of the men were out on hunting and scouting parties, but he had been distracted from his lookout duty while playing tapa with a group of boys. When a small parry of Crow were sighted nearby, the foolish and arrogant man had summoned other braves and led a chase to drive the enemy away. But that pursuit had been a trick to lure the guards out of camp so another and larger raiding party could attack, and they did so. He could not convince himself he was not partly to blame for what happened, as those loved ones might still be aliveand his daughter would not have experienced such anguish and resentment-if another warrior had been in charge. But that was in the past, and it must be the present and future which concerned him. His daughter had been chosen by Wakantanka and must obey Him.

  "Does Waci Tate have a wife? Perhaps two or three?"

  Tall Elk chuckled again. "No, my child, his mate and son were slain two winters past by the Crow, as were yours. Like you, he still seeks vengeance on the Crow to blame, but their paths have not crossed. His time for ghost-owning has passed. He performed the giveaway ritual last winter, as did you and our family. He lives in the tepee of his parents with his brother and sister."

  Chumani was sad about his matching losses, but was relieved he was alone. "Why has he taken no wife to replace her?" she asked.

  "Why have you taken no mate to replace yours?" Tall Elk reasoned.

  "I have not found one among us who steals my eye and heart. After my son's loss, you said I would choose my next husband when I was ready."

  "I am happy you speak the truth to me on this sun, my daughter. The same is probably true for Wind Dancer."

  "He is a future chief and must have a son to follow him. Such is not so for me. The child of Fire Walker will be chief after my brother is gone.

  "I do not pick your next mate for you, Chumani." He reminded her of what he had said earlier, "Their shaman saw dangers coming from two directions, and you were in their visions as Wind Dancer's helper to defeat them; it is as Sees-Through-Mist foretold. Wind Dancer rode to our camp with your symbol painted upon his cheek and with a dewdrop and hawk painted upon his shield. Nahemana's vision and Sees-Through-Mist's dream are commands from Wakantanka, my child; do not dishonor yourself, your family, and your people by refusing to obey them. You are strong, my child, but you must bend like the willow. To all four-leggeds and all two-leggeds, the Great Spirit gave a song, a costume, a life ritual: powerful medicine to share with His people. This calling will be your song, garment, and ritual, Dewdrops, and you will make powerful medicine with Waci Tate. Many winters ago, the Whites made Pike's Treaty and Prairie du Chien Council, but they did not keep their word; they took the Nakotas and Dakotas lands and drove them away. Now, the Whites cast their eyes upon Lakota lands, as have our Crow enemies since before my grandfather was born. If we do not form a strong alliance with others, our hunting grounds will be stolen and we will be destroyed and driven away. Our destiny lies within your hands."

  Chumani realized a heavy burden rested on her shoulders, and wondered if she could truly carry out those duties. "Return to our tepee, Father, and I will come soon. I must have time to think upon all you have told me and to calm myself."

  "Will you obey the command of Wakantanka?"

  "Yes, Father, but it does not make me happy. Pray to the Great Spirit that I am worthy of this task and can meet this challenge."

  Tall Elk embraced his daughter. "You are wise and good, my child," he said, "and your skills are many and large. Wakantanka will reward you greatly for obeying Him."

  Following Chumani and Hehoka Hanska's departure, Wind Dancer's thoughts spun wildly and swiftly from the reality of his discovery and what it might mean to him. He could hardly believe Morning Mist and Dewdrops were the same woman. Was that, he pondered, a good or bad sign? How could he master a woman who lived and thought as a warrior, a woman who had shown stubbornness, defiance, and rudeness at their first meeting? Surely she would be trouble for him, but he must find a way to tame her wild spirit and improve her ways. Would she agree to unite with him? Had her dislike and disrespect of him in the forest been real or faked? Did she love and desire another man and he was stepping between them? In spite of all his questions, he could not deny his desire for her, nor doubt her great prowess, though he doubted she would have a large role in the tasks looming before them. Would she surrender to him or would she scorn him as she had done in the forest? No matter, she was the Great Spirit's choice for him, so he must obtain her.

  Chumani knew she could not delay her return much longer or Wind Dancer and his party would take it as a sign of insult, but she had not settled down and still paced in the cover of the trees, her emotions in a turmoil. Dread mingled with assurance; resistance, with compliance; desire, with repulsion; elation, with sadness. She wished Zitkala was there to advise and comfort her. But her best friend and constant companion had gone hunting with others for a few suns and to scout for the buffalos' seasonal movement toward the Plains. She had not gone with them because her mother had been ill and had needed her help with the chores. Now, she must face this test of her beliefs, sense of honor, and courage alone.

  Chumani could not help but worry that Nahemana's and Wind Dancer's visions at Paha Mato six moons past had been controlled or altered by seeing her before or shortly after they consumed the revelationinducing peyote. Or that an evil wicagnayesa h
ad tricked the two men only to lure her from the sacred path she was to walk, the one in her shaman's dream. Would all be lost if she yielded to temptation and was misled by the evil spirit?

  Since her heart still ached over the loss of her son and his death had not been avenged, why did a stranger stir it to life and longing? Why did she feel weak, afraid, and uncertain, qualities so foreign to her? Why did he cause confusion and distress within her? That, she deduced, was the center of her troubled heart and mind; she feared she would lose herself in him and his life. She feared the power of her irresistible pull toward him, as such feelings could make an awesome weapon against her in the hands of a cruel foe. She feared relenting, becoming happy for a time, and losing all again. But you must go, Dewdrops, she urged herself, and face your destiny, whatever and wherever it may be.

  Magaju joined Chumani. "I have heard of what lies before you, my daughter," she said. "This is good for you and our people, so what troubles you?"

  "Is it truly good for me, Mother?" she asked. "Why must I join to a stranger, an outsider? To another man I do not love and desire?"

  "If you possess the four virtues of the Lakota and the warrior you try to be, you will make this sacrifice for the survival of your people while our forces are weakened." Falling Rain reasoned in a gentle tone. "You must show courage, strength, insight, and kindness; this will be your greatest coup."

  "A man such as Wind Dancer will not accept a female hunter-warrior as his wife. He will try to cower and weaken me as he would a captive. He will halt my search for the enemy who slayed my son and people. Have you forgotten his raiding party killed the families of my parents and many old ones while our men were away from camp?" Have you forgotten the man my father chose for me was in charge of the guards left behind that day and he failed in his task? "If I must leave my people and end my vengeance quest, all remaining joy will leave my heart and life."

  Falling Rain had not forgotten that agonizing time or what it had done to her beloved child. "You will become a wife and mother again, as it is meant to be for a woman."

  "I do not wish to bear and lose another child; that pain is too great."

  "Another child will heal your heart and bring much joy, my daughter."

  "Who will share such feelings and suns when I am in a camp far from my family, best friend, and people?"

  "You will share them with your husband and your new people. Wind Dancer's mate and son live with the Great Spirit, as do yours. Go with him, my daughter, and allow the Great Spirit to heal your hearts and help your peoples. If we do not ally with them and seal our bond with your joining, we will suffer under the lances, arrows, and firesticks of the Crow and Whites. A union between the children of two chiefs will form a powerful bond. Now come, we must return to our tepee; there is much to do and say."

  That time, Wind Dancer turned and looked at Chumani when she arrived in the tepee. Though she appeared to attempt to keep her expression void of feeling, he sensed gleams of anxiety and uncertainty and a hint of defiance.

  Chumani forced herself to lock gazes for a brief time with the Red Shield warrior, to show him she was unfraid. Then she sighted the yellow dewdrop on his left cheek as if he had already staked a claim of ownership on her, and her jaw tightened in annoyance. Here before her stood the legendary warrior Waci Tate, son of a chief, a future chief, the man who too often sneaked into her dreams at night and into her thoughts during the day, the man from her shaman's dream whom she was to join. How would it feel to be held in his arms, to feel his lips and hands upon her body, to lie with him on a sleeping mat, to-

  "Dewdrops, come and sit with me," Tall Elk summoned her.

  Wind Dancer turned and faced the Brule chief as the woman sat beside him, her gaze lowered to the clasped hands in her lap. He had noticed her irritated reaction to the symbol on his face, and had seen that emotion vanish and her cheeks warm with color. Her eyes had made a swift pass over him from head to feet, and a glow had danced across her beautiful face and in her dark eyes. Yes, he decided, he was appealing to her, but that reality disquieted her. Now, all that remained to be learned was her reaction to his shocking news.

  "Will you honor the words of the Great Spirit?" Tall Elk asked her.

  "Yes, Father, I will obey the commands of the Great Mystery, though I do not," she began in a deceptively calm voice, then locked her stoic gaze with Wind Dancer's equally stoic one, "understand them."

  When she paused and stared at him, Wind Dancer feared she was about to shame him before his family and best friend by saying she did not want to join to him but would force herself to become his wife and do her duty. He was relieved when those words did not escape her lovely lips. She showed great courage and wisdom in the face of inner turmoil.

  Tall Elk smiled and nodded. "It is good, my daughter, and soon their meanings will be revealed to us. While you prepare yourself for your joining and departure, we will smoke the pipe for the Making Brothers ritual. Come," he said to his guests, "we will seek another place to do so."

  Chumani and Magaju watched the men leave before they started to get ready for the wakan kiciyuzapi ceremony and her journey. As Chumani bathed and dressed, and while her mother packed her belongings and other gifts, she thought about what lay ahead for her. She would be far away from her family, best friend, and people and would see them only on two occasions-the annual trading fair and the annual buffalo hunt-unless something important arose to cause a visit. She would live among strangers, in a tepee with a stranger, be possessed by a stranger. Yet, she must be doing the right thing, especially since the awful news of the white man's sickness had reached their ears; two hundred fifty wasicun trappers and traders and others, along with hundreds of Indians from many bands and tribes, had died from what they called "cholera." The only good news was that the "epidemic" had ceased to attack either side. News had also reached them that the Crow and Whites were getting friendlier with each other, implying a truce was wafting on the spring winds. If that-

  Falling Rain interrupted her thoughts when the older woman smiled and hinted, "The face and body of Waci Tate are good to look upon, yes?"

  Chumani selected a careful answer. "They are not repulsive, Mother."

  "He is a warrior of high rank and great skills; his coups are many."

  "So the stories of his deeds tell us."

  "Do you fear him, my daughter?"

  "No, Mother," she said, as she did not, in the way Magaju meant.

  "Do you fear the unknown and dangerous challenge before you?"

  "No, Mother, for it will save our people and lands."

  "Do you fear lying with him upon the sleeping mat?"

  Following a short silence, Chumani admitted, "I do not know." She decided not to explain her troubled feelings, things she did not grasp herself which might worry and sadden her mother.

  "It was not good for you upon the sleeping mat of Dull Star?"

  Chumani was a little surprised by that query. "No, Mother." She hoped Magaju would leave that trail of thought, as she did not want to discuss sex with her mother.

  "It is because you did not choose him; you did not love or desire him."

  "Can the same not be said for Wind Dancer?" reasoned Chumani.

  "It will be different with him, my daughter. His looks and ways are good. He was chosen for you by the Great Spirit, Who is never wrong."

  "I pray those words are true, Mother."

  "They are, my beloved child. The Great Spirit would not bring sadness and distraction into the heart and mind of one He has chosen for a great and sacred duty. Allow Wind Dancer to heal your pain and bring you joy. Give him the opportunity to win your love and acceptance; it must be so for you two to work together for the good of our peoples."

  "What if Wind Dancer does not feel the same way, Mother? What if he does not want my love or care about my acceptance? What if he is not pleased with the Great Spirit's command to join to me?"

  "It will be your task to change that. Only by forming a powerful bond between
you, or at least a truce, can you two achieve glorious victory. You are a beautiful and desirable woman, my daughter; you have many good traits and skills. Use them, use all you are, to create the needed bond between you two."

  "I will do my best to grasp victory for our peoples, whatever it takes," Chumani vowed.

  Magaju embraced her, and with misty eyes and hoarsened voice said, "That is good, my daughter. My love for you is great."

  Chumani's emotion matched that of her mother.

  "My love for you is larger than the sacred mountain," she whispered. "I will miss you."

  "As I will miss you, my child. Be safe and happy, Dewdrops."

  "I will try, Mother," she promised. Then she heard a shrill call from outside. "Cetan has returned," she said. "I must go tether him to his post while strangers are in camp. I would not want him to see them as a threat and attack our honored guests."

  Chumani and Waci Tate stood in the center of the group of people gathered around them; close by were members of their families. The son of the Oglala chief was clad in his finest array of garments and high-ranking Wiscasta Itancan shirt. The daughter of the Brule chief wore the fringed but unbeaded white dress and moccasins made by Snowbird and given to her by her shaman, a kind and wise man whom she loved and respectly deeply.

  "We come to hear Dewdrops and Wind Dancer make a joining bond," Tall Elk said, "as we have made an alliance bond with his people. Beneath the eyes of the Great Spirit, they will become mates. Soon they will ride together on a great quest for victory for our two bands. Until that sun rises, we will meet and travel together to the grasslands to hunt the buffalo; there, we will camp nearby and will unite to battle any enemies who challenge us. Wind Dancer, you have brought many gifts to me and asked for my daughter as your wife and sacred task companion. Is that not so?"