Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) (44 page)

"You must prepare to ride, micante, for you and Cetan go with us.
Bring the magic eye with you. You will remain at a safe distance from their camp and watch for my signal. When you see it, you must tell
Cetan to take flight. When the Strong Hearts see the hawk, that is the
sign for them to fire the grass they have scattered around the fringe of
Sroka's camp. The blaze will trap our enemies within its circle and will
eat into their camp."

"Why does Zitkala not ride with us?" Chumani asked.

"Her presence as a woman would distract the men, for they have
not ridden with her and viewed her great prowess. Red Feather, too,
would be distracted from his duty in protecting her from the attention
of the others; and he must live."

"How will my husband and the Strong Hearts fight so many warriors
after they strike against your party?"

"If we remain hidden to their eyes, they will believe an evil spirit
attacks them in this new camp as one did in their old one; it should
frighten them from our lands forever. The grass is dry and will burn
fast; a ring of fire will stop them from leaving their camp to find us.
Its flames will eat at many lodges, winter foods, possessions, and weapons.
They will not be strong enough without those things to attack us again."

"It is a sly plan, mihigna, " Chumani said with admiration. "It will
be a great coup for you and your war party. It will avenge the deaths
of Raven and your horses and your abuse."

"We do not take captives to live in our camp. When Omaste was
given to my father long ago, she was treated well. For those who take
captives from the Whites or other tribes, it is wrong to treat them with
cruelty."

"That is good and wise, and it is the same for the White Shields.
Now we must ready ourselves, for soon the others will await our leaving."

Zitkala approached their tepee and called out for permission to enter,
though the flap was thrown aside. "Is there help you need, Dewdrops?"

Wind Dancer summoned the Brule woman into their lodge and
smiled at her. "Dewdrops will tell you what you desire to know after
I am gone." He told his wife what he needed for his mission so she
could pack those things while he went with Red Feather and War Eagle to fetch items stolen from the keelboat and homesteads which were
hidden nearby.

As she worked, Chumani related Wind Dancer's concerns to her best
friend. "I know staying behind troubles your spirit, Zitkala, but his
words are wise. If you have not peered into the river or the trader's
looking glass, you do not know how you have changed. No eyes could
gaze upon you now and mistake you for a man; you have become much
of a woman."

Zitkala, clad in a doeskin dress and wearing a feathered and beaded
thong in her flowing hair, could not resist smiling upon hearing that
news. She had checked her appearance several times recently on the
water's surface and in a "mirror." She had been afraid to trust her eyes
to speak the truth she saw there, but Chumani had just confirmed her
hope and her best friend would never deceive her, even for a good
reason.

"How could the Strong Hearts without wives think of their tasks
when you filled their gazes?" Chumani half jested. "How could Red
Feather do his perilous deeds when he feared another might attempt to
steal your eye and heart from him?"

Exhilarated, Zitkala embraced Chumani. "It is the work of the Great
Spirit and Mother Nature, for I have done little to make myself different.
They have blessed me with this change, for Red Feather can now join
a female who does not look or behave as a man."

"You have revealed your love and desire to him, and he feels the
same way about you. I eagerly await your joining when we reach our
winter camp. I along with many others, will help you sew and erect
your new tepee, as is our custom. It will be their show of thanks to
you for all you have done."

Before Zitkala could respond, Wind Dancer and Red Feather returned
and said they must leave shortly. Chumani suggested their best friends
share a short privacy while she and her husband loaded their horses, to
which both men agreed.

Soon the war party rode away as their people stood watching their
departure. Many guards were posted around the encampment, and scouts took their places beyond to watch for trouble and to send forth
a warning-a flaming arrow shot skyward-if necessary. The others
returned to their tasks of hunting and preparing buffalo and doing daily
chores.

Chumani, with Cetan sitting nearby, observed the furtive action
beyond her concealed position. Dusk was rapidly departing. Beneath a
moonless and ominous sky, it was becoming difficult to see her companions as they carried out their daring tasks; if not for the powerful
fieldglass, she could not sight them at all. They were clad only in
breechclouts and moccasins, allowing them to move silently. Their dark
hair was covered with wide strips from deerhides, its shade blending
with the color of the grass during this time of the summer season.

She had watched her small party scatter a thick layer of dried grass
around the fringe of the enemy camp and make piles of it to the rears
of their tepees in the last ring. They had even tossed bunches between
those lodges to prevent allowing any escape path. The men had poured
lantern oil, contained in water bags and stolen from the wasicun, atop
the yellowed grass and splashed it upon the backs of those same outer
tepees. Each of the men had two matches and rough rock, the magic
sticks she had gotten from the evil trader at Pierre. She hated to think
about children and women being harmed, but they, too, were vicious
enemies who had been brutal to her husband. Her party was doing to
Sroka and his people what they had planned to do to hers.

She knew why their presence had gone unnoticed: Besides the cunning
stealth and cloaks they used, the distant guards had been located with
the spy-glass and slain, a brewing storm had summoned all hunters and
butcherers back to camp, and the Crow were gathered in the center
area to feast, sing, and dance around a large fire. She could hear the
pounding beats of their drums, muffled vocables, and rare shout of
exuberance. Their enemies were so intent upon their activities that they
failed to grasp their peril. As her party crawled on their bellies toward
their target, she sighted the Old Woman's companion leading the camp
dogs away, so those animals were not there to bark warnings.

Chumani could not help but recall the last time they had seen Sroka
was also on a night of the Black Moon. Yet, she was confident the plan
would succeed, as the timing with nature and the spirits was perfect.
She saw Wind Dancer, a tepee concealing him from their enemies' view,
lift and wave his arms just as the remaining daylight was almost gone.
"It is time for you to help us, Cetan. Fly, my friend, fly," she coaxed,
and the hawk obeyed.

With the signal given and received, Chumani saw sparks in the
increasing shadows, and soon a glowing barrier encircled the camp.
Flames wriggled up tepee surfaces as if they were dazzling snakes following the paths and feasting on the lantern oil. She saw the spaces between
their lodges join the other flames' work. It was as if daylight had returned
to the setting. The drumming halted. Screams and yells erupted from
the entrapped people in the center clearing. Some Crow grabbed blankets
and hides to beat at the flames, others tossed water from bags upon
them. Horses sent forth frantic whinnies, and some broke free of their
tethers; those animals raced between the lodges seeking an escape path,
some leaping over the flames, and some trampling possessions and
supplies.

Shortly after Cetan and her companions rejoined Chumani, the storm
broke overhead and a deluge of rain began. The greedy flames were
doused; the horses and Crow were spared, though some were injured.
The grassland was saved from destruction. The enemy camp was heavily
damaged.

As the combined Red and White Shield party lay on the hillside and
watched the event unfold, they talked in excited and awed tones about
the accuracy of Wind Dancer's vision and their great victory. They were
being drenched by the rain, but that did not matter to them. Sounds
of constant thunder had replaced those of the enemy's drums. The
wind's pace had increased. Evening air had cooled. Radiant charges
danced across the dark sky and allowed glimpses of their wounded
target. They saw no band attempting to mount and seek out an attacker;
their foes appeared too busy trying to save their remaining possessions,
and were perhaps confused and misled by the cause of the fire. They did not care if the Crow believed they had been assailed by evil spirits
or violent nature; they had been weakened badly, and that was the aim.

While they had use of the lightning's recurrent flashes to guide them
during the moonless night, they left to head back to their people. They
would travel for as long as nature's torches allowed them to see the
terrain ahead, then camp until sunrise to complete their journey. War
Eagle and three men without wives stayed behind to observe the Crow
to see if they left and where they traveled if they did so.

Chumani had given her husband's brother the "magic eye" so he
could do his task from a safe distance away. She was certain the Crow
would have neither the time nor means to retaliate, and would be
compelled to seek a safe area where they could prepare themselves again
for winter. For a while, she hoped, they should be safe, if no other
enemy decided to attack them.

The following night in their tepee, Chumani lay snuggled against
her husband's virile body with her head resting at the crook of his arm.
She smiled to herself as she recalled their heartwarming welcome after
a glorious victory over Sroka and his tribe. "Our deeds give our families
and people great joy and pride, mihigna, "Chumani said happily. "Our
alliance is a good one."

"That is true, mitawin. Soon our task here will be finished and we
must leave to make our winter camp in the sacred Paha Sapa. The hot
season has begun its journey away from our land; the face of Mother
Earth is changing. Grass grows from green and yellow to brown. Berries,
plants, and flowers will be gone shortly, and the buffalo will roam to
its wintering grounds. We have much meat and hides; the cold season
which travels slowly toward us will not harm us as our enemies planned.
Perhaps while we are sealed in our tepee when it snows, a child will be
given to us."

"Surely that is true, mihigna, for our sacred task will be over before
cold winds blow over our land. And you do try many times to plant
your seeds within me," she added as she laughed and tickled his ribs.

Wind Dancer squirmed and chuckled as he captured her playful hand. "There is much joy and pleasure in doing that work." He kissed
her fingers.

"It is . . . `work' to arouse and sate us, my love?" she teased him as
she pulled her forefinger free of his grasp and traced his lips with it.

"My tongue spoke too swiftly as you clouded my mind with your
magic. It is large and powerful, Dewdrops, and I cannot resist its force."

"There is no need to do so, my love, and I eagerly yield to yours."

"We are well matched, micante, " he murmured against her palm
before pressing kisses to her warm flesh.

Chumani quivered with delight. "That is true, mihigna. Why do you
not begin your task, for there is much . . . `work' to do before we sleep?
You are a skilled hunter, provider, and protector; you must seek your
prey, feed this great hunger within me, and defend me against the pain
of denial."

In one sweeping motion, Wind Dancer rolled his cherished wife to
her hack and lay half atop her. "My hunt will begin here," he murmured
as his mouth met hers....

On the eighth sun following the fiery attack on Sroka's camp, War
Eagle and the Strong Hearts returned at a swift gallop. They dismounted
with haste, handing their tethers to young boys with a quick request
the animals be tended, and rushed to the Red Shield chief's tepee. The
shout which had gone up at their rapid approach had summoned Rising
Bear to greet them, as it had others. A crowd gathered to listen and
observe.

"We rode as the wind after they camped, but the journey to their
new location was reached slowly," War Eagle divulged. "It is not good
news, my father and people. They gather with many Crow bands beyond
Rabbit Creek where large rocks were spit forth from Mother Earth and
many trees grow."

"That is only two suns fast ride from our sacred Bear Mountain!"

"That is true, Blue Owl. We believe they meet to trade with other
bands. We do not know if they will talk alliance and war against Oglalas.
But there is good news for my brother and Raven's spirit; the one called Sroka was attacked and slain by his warriors, for they believed he called
down evil spirits upon them; they do not know we attacked them."

"How did you learn such things, my son?" Rising Bear asked.

"Each moon, one of us sneaked to their camp and listened to them.
I was watching when Sroka angered his band by calling them weaklings
for running away and not attacking our people and others to replace
their losses. When he would not hold his tongue and said he would
attack the enemy alone, many of his people shot fatal arrows into his
body."

"That is good, my son, for Raven's spirit can now rest and my first
son has been avenged by the Hand of Wakantanka working in a mysterious way, for surely He enflamed Crow hearts against their greatest
warrior."

"We must make a plan of defense, Father," Wind Dancer suggested,
"for we do not know if the Apsaalooke will join forces and attack us."

"It has been made long ago, micinksi, by the Creator," Nahemana
said.

As soon as the Red Shield shaman explained his meaning, SeesThrough-Mist, with a look of astonishment on his weathered face,
disclosed he had seen the same event unfold in a dream long ago and
had told it to Chief Tall Elk and to Chumani before she joined to Waci
Tate.