Proud Wolf's Woman (39 page)

The enemy had pitched their camp high upon a flat-topped mesa, and Neeheeowee and Julia had last night climbed to a spot above where the enemy slept. Both Julia and Neeheeowee lay flat on their stomachs, overlooking the Pawnee camp. Neeheeowee had painted himself for war, the black paint stretching across his face, the look of him fierce enough to cause Julia to cringe.

He motioned her back down to a ledge on the mesa. Using hand signals he told her to wait there, unless he ran into trouble down there, at which time she was to mount the swiftest of the ponies and flee. She nodded, although she had already told him that if he died, she would ride right into the camp and perish, too. She had no wish to live her life without Neeheeowee.

They had argued about this point more than any other of their plans, and Julia kept her intentions silent for the moment, not wishing to cause further argument with the enemy so dose at hand. Her glance, however, told Neeheeowee she had not budged on her decision at all.

He scowled at her before sending a helpless look toward the heavens, but he said nothing, only communicating by sign what he expected her to do. Julia nodded, agreeing to all of it, with the exception of the one.

He nodded and, again, scooting to the top of the ledge, peered down into the enemy camp, Julia following him up onto the ledge. And then, all at once, it started. Neeheeowee shrieked out his war cry and dropped down into the camp, cutting the throat of one of the villains at once.

The Pawnee responded as they had been taught all their lives, up and starting battle even before they rubbed the sleep from their eyes. One attacked Neeheeowee with a knife, Neeheeowee pulling him down toward him and stabbing the attacker with that knife.

Two down, Julia counted.

Two of the Pawnee, seeing the strength and cunning of their enemy, fled the scene, disappearing down the mesa and into the night. It left Neeheeowee with one left to fight. Julia gulped and barely dared to look.

“You,” she heard Neeheeowee say in Lakota, himself cornering his prey. “You are the one who killed my wife and my baby. You are the one I have sought all these long years.
You
do not deserve to live,
you
do not deserve to walk this earth,
you
will not walk the path to the spirit world, either. I will ensure it.”

The two men circled one another, Julia noticing with an odd sense of detachment that the sun had just begun to rise on the eastern horizon. A breeze blew straight into her face and then quit. She shook her head.

Had it spoken to her?

It couldn’t be. She must be going mad.

Again, wind rushed into her face. “Stop the fight.”

She caught her breath.

She had heard of what the Indians called the spirit wind, she had been out west long enough to know of these beliefs. But she had never thought it to be true.

“He follows the wrong path. Do not let him do it.” The wind again rushed into her face, ruffling her hair this time and seeming to speak to her yet again. “It will sour his heart forever.”

She gazed back down at Neeheeowee and the Pawnee. Perhaps the whining of the wind, the desolation of the plains had, at last, made her crazy. Or perhaps the men had spoken. But as the two men circled one another, grunting, screeching, screaming, she knew with certainty that neither of them had spoken.

The Pawnee howled, and Neeheeowee, not even flinching, pulled the Pawnee down, pushing his knife to the other man’s throat so fast, the Pawnee barely seemed to know it before it was done.

“I will kill you now as you killed my wife,” Neeheeowee said, Julia listening. “I will make you suffer as she did, and never fear, you will never see the spirit world.”

Wind rushed up behind her, seeming to push her down into the camp.

Neeheeowee raised his knife and in that moment, there in the breeze, Julia saw the future before her, a future with a sullen Neeheeowee, a Neeheeowee without heart, without passion, and she understood all at once why she was here: this murder would take Neeheeowee’s heart just as surely as his wife had taken his spirit.

She looked around her for help, but knew that if anyone were going to do something about this, it would have to be her.

He screamed, and Julia jumped to her feet.

“Hiya!
No!” Julia yelled it out as loud as she could, running forward and stumbling over the rocky landscape to twist her way down into the camp.

At the interruption, the Pawnee howled, snapping about to try to regain control, but Neeheeowee held him fast, not letting him move even a little bit.

“Hiya!
No!” Julia shrieked again. “You must not do this.”

“Eaaa!”
Neeheeowee roared. “You are not to interfere in this!”

Julia looked at the Pawnee, who, she noted, looked more ferocious than anyone she had ever seen. “You must not do this,” she yelled again to Neeheeowee, then more calmly, “You must spare his life.” She advanced right up to them, falling onto her knees beside them both. “You have lost a wife and a child, my love. I know this is difficult, I know your wife haunts you, but if you do this thing, if you see it through, it will change you forever. Do you not see? It will harden your heart, even against me.” She took a deep breath and plunged. “I know a harder way, but it is a better path,” she said, her words rushing together almost in a slur. “You lost a child, a boy child I think you said. I say you should invoke the kinship appeal right here, right now. You had a son you lost, make this man your son. Do this deed as no one else has ever done it before you. Show mercy to your enemy. Right here, right now.”

Neeheeowee, who held the other man’s head in his hand, howled at her. “He is not Cheyenne!”

“He doesn’t have to be!”

Neeheeowee screamed. “I cannot do it!”

“Yes, you can!”

Neeheeowee howled again, the sound a screech against the morning air. Then, pushing the man’s head down hard on the ground, Neeheeowee jumped to his feet. And though he let the Pawnee come up onto his knees, Neeheeowee glared at the man. Proud Wolf’s glance clearly let the man know that one move—any move—and the Pawnee would yet die.

“Your life might be spared,” Neeheeowee spit out, clutching a knife in one hand while he signed out the meaning of his speech with his other: “My wife desires this revenge to end. My wife seems to think you are honorable enough to keep your word. My wife would have you take the place of the kin which you took from me five years ago. My wife would have me take you into my home as…my son.” Neeheeowee’s voice faltered, although his stare remained fixed. “You, my friend, have a choice. One given to you by the wisdom and compassion of my wife. You can either die the same death—here now—that you had delivered to my kin five years ago, or you can accept the gift that I will give to you now to show you my sincerity; the gift of my finest warhorse. For I will honor my wife’s wisdom and the feelings from her heart. What say you now?

“But I would caution you. If you accept what my wife and I offer you, you must pledge to me—your solemn oath—that from this day forward, you will take the place of my lost kin, ever to be obligated to fulfill that role, that you will never falter from that duty. Know you now that it is hatred for you that has brought me to this camp on this day. Know you, too, that I will not leave it until I have obtained either your death or your vow of kinship. The choice is yours.”

Julia had arisen while Neeheeowee had been speaking, moving off to the side to get Neeheeowee’s war pony. She brought it down to them now; standing behind Neeheeowee, the three of them, the pony, Julia and Neeheeowee, awaited the Pawnee’s decision.

The Pawnee warrior looked up toward the gift, looked up to Julia and then back toward Neeheeowee. He trembled, looking at the Cheyenne’s knife, still clutched firmly in hand and poised to wield a death blow. The Pawnee then glanced up toward the sky, then down at himself and at last, not being able to withhold himself, he screamed, but as he cried out, tears streamed down his face.

Without further pause, he gestured back in the language of sign, “From this day forward you,” he motioned toward Neeheeowee, “I am a part of your family, taking on the duties that beholds that station, no matter that you are Cheyenne and I am Pawnee. From this day forward, I am a part of your family. From this clay forward my home is yours, my family is yours. There will be peace between us. I swear to it.”

The Pawnee sank farther to his knees with his words, his head down, and with one last scream of frustration, Neeheeowee threw away his knife.

“It is done, then,” Neeheeowee said, and in that moment, the wind rushed in upon them all, the image of a woman and a small boy upon it.

All three saw the image, all three stood staring at it, Neeheeowee the first to recover and, crying out his war cry, he moved about the camp, picking up his own weapons plus those of the Pawnee. He marched then from the Pawnee camp as though a demon pursued him. He didn’t look behind him, not even to check upon her safety, and it was this action, more than any other, which told Julia that her Cheyenne warrior was not yet free.

The Pawnee, still on his knees beside her, told her something in gestures, and at his urging, she hurried from the camp, following after her Cheyenne husband.

It was odd, she was to think later. The Pawnee had given his word and as easily as that, he became friend instead of foe, Julia realizing the kinship pledge, although forged in a moment of force, would be kept by the two of them, the Cheyenne and the Pawnee, forever.

It was no less than a miracle.

Neeheeowee knew he had to leave her, at least for the moment. He could not stay around Julia and think, not being as angry as he was.

He came back to it again and again: How could she have interfered in his life as she did? Hadn’t he held the knife ready, just awaiting the moment of complete justice? Hadn’t the moment been truly his? Hadn’t he been ready to make the man an example? And Julia had made him stop. Julia.

He thought back to it now. Why had he stopped? He hadn’t needed to. He had told Julia he would show the Pawnee no mercy. So why had he?

Because of Julia? Was that it, or was it because of something else?

He couldn’t help thinking that five years of searching, five years of his life were wasted. When the time had come for him to commit revenge, he had made the man a brother instead.

Was he unable to kill the man? Was that it? Was he so weak that he could not do what needed to be done?

Neeheeowee shook his head. No, he would have gladly turned the knife. That was not it. It was something more—someone more. Julia had influenced him. Julia had suddenly brought a shred of light into his hatred. Julia had remained even stronger than the mightiest of warriors, for Julia’s was the gift of understanding, and of love.

He lifted his face to the heavens and the wind blew right up to him and away. Ah, he thought, the spirit wind. This was no ordinary wind. This was the wind of knowledge, the wind that went everywhere, saw everything. This wind talked, the words plain if one only listened.

“What do you want of me?” Neeheeowee asked aloud.

It blew right up to him, whispering in his ear, “You are free.”

“No,” he yelled out, not daring to believe it. “How can this be? I failed my wife and child yet again.”

“No,” the wind seemed to say, “You are free.” And as if to show him, an image of his wife and child materialized before him, both of them smiling, both of them waving, both of them, at last, letting him go.

And it happened right then. Before his eyes, right there in the wind, he saw his future, the things he must accomplish for himself, for his love, for his people. Neeheeowee began to tremble. He had not sought a vision this time, he had done none of the ceremonial rites, and yet, here before him lay the vision he lacked. And Neeheeowee realized what had been missing from his life in all the years past: love. It had taken love to show him his true path; it had taken the love of a strong-willed woman: Julia.

And there, on that ledge overlooking the land of his enemy, Neeheeowee cried.

That was how Julia found him.

She came right up to him, kneeling at his side and taking his hand into her own. “The Pawnee,” she said as softly as she could, “your new kin is taking care of his dead. He awaits you, for he will follow you home. I was able to understand at least that much from his gestures to me. Neeheeowee”—she ran her hands through his hair—“it is over.”

Neeheeowee didn’t acknowledge her except with a brief shake of his head. He didn’t look up; he didn’t stand up. He couldn’t. Tears streamed down his face.

Julia put her arms around him and knelt with him for a very long time, feeling the raw emotion within him as though it were her own. It was no show of weakness on his part, and both knew it. Rather, it was a strengthening. Together, they were more than the forces that had sought to overwhelm them.

Gradually, Neeheeowee looked up, placing his arms around her as he did so. Finally, he got to his feet, bringing Julia with him, and, as he did so, as he stood, the wind whipped around a corner, blowing its strength upon them.

Their hair rippled back against the breeze, their faces softened under its caress, their clothes and fringe ruffled back because of it, but before it went on its way, before the spirit wind left them forever, it whispered to them, “Together you are strong. Together you will bring wisdom to your people. Use the power well.”

Neeheeowee stared down at Julia. She looked back up at him, and she knew then that love had conquered all. Both of them were whole again. Both of them had set the other free. She began to smile. The wind whipped around them again and Julia laughed, Neeheeowee joining in until the happy sounds they made mixed with all of nature, and had anyone been there to observe them, it would have been a difficult task to distinguish which was the most beautiful: the joy of the human laugh or the sweet sighings of the wind.

Truly, both sounded one and the same.

Epilogue

Neeheeowee had given Tahiska and Kristina the best horses that he could, since they now were the kin of his betrothed. He smiled at the gesture he had made while relief swept over him. At last he was free to follow his heart.