Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) (25 page)

Guards were posted around the village to make certain another raid
by a third war party did not take place while they were occuppied with
grim tasks which required the remainder of that day to complete.

When the large group of Red Shields returned near midafternoon
from their futile pursuit of the Apsaalooke, they were elated to discover
the news of the awesome victory during their absence but were distressed
by the losses their friends had suffered. Many praised Wind Dancer
loudly and repeatedly for seeing through the Crow's trick to lure them
from camp for a surprise attack and thanked the Strong Hearts for the
defense of their tepees and families. They joined the others to repair
damage to tepees, to tend the wounded, help construct scaffolds, assist
with burials, and to hunt for those in need of fresh game who had lost
their husbands on past suns.

By dusk, the wiconte wicagnakapis stood out on the verdant landscape
against a darkening cobalt sky with seven bodies resting upon themfour females, two children, and an elderly man. Two of the women
were wives and mothers, while the others were a girl of joining age and
one of fifty whose mate had died during the past winter. Their deaths
were mourned with sad songs, traditional chants, and cut marks on the
legs and arms of adult family members. Even Mother Nature seemed
to respond to the tragedy. The wind ceased to blow as if to honor those
whose lives had been taken by fierce enemies. The sky's beautiful blue
shade dulled as if in empathy and the sun hid behind a distant cloud as if unable to witness the somber sight. The birds were quiet and the
animals remained concealed as if to prevent intruding on the people's
sorrow.

After the burial ceremony was completed and all returned to camp,
relatives and friends took in those tormented by grief and requiring
help with children and husbands. The people ate in small and quiet
groups before retiring, many to endure a restless night.

Chumani snuggled in Wind Dancer's embrace. Though they kissed
and stroked each other, they did not make love, as sadness gripped their
hearts. They drew comfort from each other and bonded more tightly
from their sharing of such a terrible event. Too, their thoughts roamed
into the past and they relived the tragic losses of their sons at the hands
of the Crow warrior who had led the first attack to lure the others from
camp so his companions could attack.

When Buffalo Hump had returned from chasing the first band,
Chumani and Wind Dancer had made a shocking discovery. From
Buffalo Humps description of the Crow leader's face design, they knew
he was the same Crow warrior who had murdered their children. Each
wished they had been with the war chief so the pursuit could have
continued until their enemy had been overtaken and killed to avenge
their sons' deaths. Yet, they somehow knew that their paths would cross
again and vengeance would not be denied them, perhaps even be granted
to them as a reward for their parts in the sacred quest, which was to
begin in a few more moons. Each also knew another great event was
to take place on the next sun.

The Red Shield Band of the Oglala Lakotas gathered in the center
of their winter encampment as they awaited the start of the Sacred Bow
ritual, as it was believed to yield powerful medicine for war and for
peace. The people's hearts and minds were filled with mixed feelings
on that day, for many had experienced terrible losses and others, great
victories over their enemies. Despite the anguish of those with slain
family members or close friends, all knew that each person's existence
traveled in a circle as with the Sacred Hoop of Life, and death was a part of it. The fallen ones' spirits now dwelled with Wakantanka and
that fact was soothing.

The elite Sacred Medicine Bow society's meeting lodge had been set
up in the midst of the camp early that morning, with a sweat lodge
erected beside it. The three other Bow Carriers-War Eagle, Raven,
and Broken Arrow-participated in the event to show Swift Otter's
skills were equal to theirs and he possessed the prowess to join their
high rank. Following purification of the four men who were clad only
in plain breechclouts and moccasins in the initipi and words spoken in
private in the members' meeting lodge, the ceremony began with a
prayer sent forth by Nahemana to the Great Spirit and other powerful
forces of Nature-wind, lightning, thunder, hail, snake, and bear-to
ask for guidance and assistance.

Four posts, which represented the four directions of the wind and
Medicine Wheel, were already in place in opposing positions and were
decorated with sacred symbols. The runners' bodies were painted red,
the color of Mother Earth where the buffalo-the main provider of
their survival-wallowed. Other Medicine Bow colors and designs were
added. Yellow lines to depict lightning snaked across their faces, and
their cheeks bore blue hailstones. A yellow quarter-moon was painted
upon their bare chests. Other sky-blue lines drawn on arms and legs
evoked the powers of the four winds. The four runners faced the west,
their expressions serious, their moods reverent. After the signal was
given, Swift Otter displayed his great stamina and determination, easily
matching the pace of the other three participants, necessary competition
to prove his worth. Since it was not a contest between several hopefuls,
no token was collected at each post to determine the winner. Each man
simply touched the post in passing. All reached Nahemana at almost
the same time. More tests quickly followe to prove weapons skills,
prowess, endurance, and intelligence.

As Wind Dancer observed, he recalled the sun he had performed the
ritual with success; he had served that rank well until he relinquished
his medicine bow to become a Shirt Wearer and Strong Heart. Great
love and pride filled his heart for his brother, as War Eagle-now seventeen-had proven himself worthy of that and a warrior's rank at
a young age last summer. He knew that if anything happened to him
and and his father, War Eagle would make a good chief and leader.

As Chumani watched the activities, she imagined her husband participating. She knew he had collected all four tokens and returned to his
grandfather's side before the next contestant even reached the third post.
Her heart pounded with love and desire for him, and it was difficult
to keep focused on the stirring event before her.

After the demands were met, everyone observed as Swift Otter strung
his new bow, one which was longer and heavier than a regular weapon
and exposed a lance point on the top end. It now would be the man's
duty to help bring about peace for his band and to fight fiercely for it
in times of war. He was presented with a hanger, a staff for supporting
the sacred bow when not in use, as it must not lie upon the ground or
be propped against anything which might drain or taint its special
powers.

With Badger's replacement chosen, the Sacred Bow foursome was
once again complete. The other members-four club bearers and four
staff carriers-joined their society brothers in a ceremonial dance and
chant. Afterward, the four participants re-entered the initipi for a final
purification rite, during which their bodies were washed clean of paints
and were rubbed with sweet and sage grasses in symbolic gesture to the
land which fed the buffalo.

That night, the band met once more in the center of their camp to
seek total unity and harmony as one body of people before they faced
their coming challenges. The wife of Badger joined to a warrior who
had lost his mate and tepee during the Crow attack, forming a new
family with their children. Ceremonial dances were performed and
recent coups were chanted, including those of Wind Dancer, Chumani,
and Cetan. Prayers were said for lost loved ones and for guidance and
protection during their impending annual hunt and during certain
confrontations with enemies, Indian and White. Food was supplied by
most families to be shared and eaten with others. The people were reminded that the sacred quest companions would leave on their first
journey on the next sun as soon as Zitkala and Red Feather returned
from the White Shield camp.

In their tepee, after Chumani tended Cetan and sealed their entrance
flap, she turned to Wind Dancer to question him about a serious matter.

Chumani tried to swallow the lump in her throat. For two days she
had struggled to ignore her trepidation and failed to do so. She licked
her dry lips and asked her husband, "What will happen if Zitkala and
Red Feather do not return?"

Wind Dancer did not grasp her grave concern, as his thoughts traveled
in another direction. He wanted to take advantage of the Brule woman's
absence to make slow and passionate love to his wife while they had
privacy before their journey. "We will wait for them."

Chumani went to sit beside him on the sleeping mat. She noticed
how he eyed her and perceived his romantic mood, but she needed
answers. "I do not wish to think of such anguish striking at us, but I
meant, what if Crow scouts were watching our camp three suns past,
saw them leave, followed, and ... attacked them?" she asked, unable
to say the word killed, as it knifed her emotions. "What if they never
return to us? Will we delay our first task, go anyway with only War
Eagle, or choose others to ride with us?"

Wind Dancer grimaced at the terrible thought of losing his best
friend, and Chumani, hers. "I am certain they did not confront our
enemies and will return to us." His voice held strong conviction. "The
Great Spirit would not allow them to be harmed, as He has need of
them."

Chumani smiled. "You are right, mihigna, and it was foolish of me to worry about them. I must have faith in Wakantanka. My fears came
from enduring our enemy's attack and because the trickster has not
struck at us again and I worry the evil one will do so soon."

"Do not be afraid, mitawin, for I will protect you from harm, as will
the Great Spirit." His heart rate increased steadily as he gazed at her
and saw her smile and relax. He noted the lovely curve of her chin and
jawline, the flawless surface of her skin, and those brown eyes which
drew him into them like dark pools of shiny water. He could not resist
her magic, and hoped she found him just as alluring. She possessed so
many good traits and ways that he could not name them all, but he
was aware and appreciative of each one.

Chumani watched Wind Dancer as he studied her. She found his
fascination with her arousing and flattering. She felt a rush of heat to
her cheeks, as if a fire were suddenly kindled within her body. Her
spirit soared with eagerness and delight. His gaze held a compelling
power and gleam of tenderness which captivated her. She knew what
he wanted and what she wanted were one and the same.

Chumani's hand reached out to graze his angular jawline, for she
could not deny the heady impulse to touch him, to feel the stirring
sensation of his flesh against hers. He had removed his shirt earlier and
she let her fingers drift down his neck and across his hairless chest, as
she admired the muscular hardness of his torso. Her gaze halted on his
Sun Dance scars, as did her fingertips before she traced the marks which
exposed his great courage and stamina and sacrifice to the Great Spirit.

Wind Dancer was enchanted and titillated by her bold exploration.
She did not have to tell him she wanted him tonight, for everything
about her proclaimed her rising desire. His blood pulsed in excitement
and pleasure; his loins blazed in response. Surely if he could awaken
her passions to such a great height, he could capture her love. He drew
her closer for a deep and meaning-filled kiss.

Soon, they both were eager to surrender fully to what seemed so
inevitable and right.

Parting only long enough to yank off their garments and moccasins,
they sank to the buffalo mat locked in each other's arms, their lips melded in a hot kiss. They tried to work slowly, but their cravings were
too urgent to be denied for very long. They united their bodies and
aimed for love's sweet target. They attained and savored it with great
elation.