Wolf Shadow’s Promise (24 page)

She nodded, sending him a shy smile.

“This is a game our youngsters play called make the stick jump. If you are able to hit the stick, it will jump. Here, try it and see.”

She threw the arrow, his skill and brawn guiding her small lance. Sure enough, she hit the stick, making it jump out of the ground.

“I did it.” She grinned up at him.

He returned the gesture, smiling at her, only this time, when he looked at her, she found admiration, perhaps even
understanding, in his glance. He said, “Yes, you did. I think this lesson is over for the day.” His fingers had already gone to the buttons at the front of her dress. He commented, “You wear many clothes.”

“It is the custom. This dress is actually a very simple calico.”

“Still, it, like many of your others, is very hard to remove.”

“Perhaps,” she suggested, “that is its purpose.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed before he bent his head to hers.

His lips touched hers gently at first, barely an impression at all.

But the prairie wind blew at them, imprinting his body on hers, as though the breeze conspired along with him to provide an excuse to bring his head down even further.

“You are so beautiful,” he muttered before his lips closed over hers yet again. “Tell me, does he kiss you like this?”

“Who?”

“Your intended.”

“He doesn't kiss me at all.”

Moon Wolf ignored her, running his fingers over her cheek. “
Aa
, so if he does not kiss you, does he touch you like this?”

She groaned. “You know very well that he does not.”

“I do not know anything that happens when he is with you. You must tell me.”

“I told you, the engagement is a sham.”

“
Aa
, yes, so I understand. If he does not kiss you and does not touch you, does he pull you close to him, like this?”

“Moon Wolf, cease this. You know well that he does none of these things. Do you purposely tease me?”

“Me?” he asked, none too innocently. “Why would I try
to tease you with thoughts of another man…the man you are to marry—”

“Stop it, Moon Wolf, you know now that it is not a real engagement.”

“Do I? I think I must make certain of it. You are the one who became engaged. I only try to figure out how this man won your heart.”

She stole a quick glimpse of him, meeting the delightful sparkle in his eye. She asked, “Won my heart? You know darned well that my heart belongs only to you.”

“Do I? I am not so certain. Perhaps I had better make sure of it by kissing you here.” His lips found a vulnerable spot on her neck. “Or maybe here.” He kissed her eyes. “Or perhaps you like to be kissed like this.” His lips touched hers lightly, softly, but only for a moment before he deepened the embrace, his tongue invading her mouth, one time, again.

She moaned in response, the sound lost to the breeze. But he obviously heard her, for he groaned, too, their sighs mingling together and becoming a part of the music of the wind, the birds, the thunder of the falls. And as his tongue swept again into her mouth, she felt herself transported.

The wind wrapped around them, throwing them into a tight embrace, and they fell to their knees before one another.

“
Kitsikakomimmo
,” he murmured to her, while with his hands he undressed her. “I would see all of you again.”

“Yes,” she answered, stripping the material of the dress to her waist, the top of her petticoat and chemise following in their turn.

“Do I dare ask if he touched you like this?”

“Moon Wolf, you know that he—” She didn't finish. She couldn't. One of his hands had come up to her breasts, the other stroked her cheek while his gaze adored her.
Downward his fingers caressed, over her neck, making a silken path to her stomach.

“Moon Wolf,” she thought to whisper, “we are in an open meadow. Should we not seek shelter?”

“There is no danger here. I have seen neither red nor white man here on this mountain. We are safe, I think.”

“But to make love in the open, where we could be seen?”

“By the Above Ones? I would have all of creation, whether god or creature, know that you are mine, that we love. There is nothing to be ashamed of, and no one, save ourselves, is here, I promise you.”

With such a declaration, her heart leapt into her throat.

She pulled at his shirt, and he shrugged out of it with ease. “At least,” she said, “both of us are now bare to the waist.”

“But you will soon be naked all over,” he promised, his hands moving smoothly down the length of her back to the buttons of her dress and petticoat.

“As will you be, too,” she said, bending her head to run a delicate tongue over his male nipples.

He drew in his breath.

“Do you like that?”

He merely nodded. The wind whipped her hair back from her face, while it blew his forward, the touch of those strands on her cheek like that of a caress. She said, “I love you, Moon Wolf. I think I have done so from the day I first saw you. Even my time in the east did not diminish my feelings for you.”

“Yet I have nothing to offer you, not land, not security, not even a family life.”

Her hands were at his chest, massaging him, while his fingers released the buttons at her back.

She asked, “Does that bother you?”

“It is one thing to love you, to make love to you, this I
can do, I will do. It is another task to find a place where we can live our lives in happiness.”

“I know, but—”

“It does not make me love you less.” He slid the dress off her hips, complete with her petticoat and chemise, down to her knees. He said, “You will have to step out of it.”

“Yes,” she said and arose, no sooner kicking the dress away than he pulled her back to him, his face on her stomach, his hands lightly touching her most private areas.

She arched her back, letting the breeze whisper over her skin and ruffle her hair. Maybe there was no place for them, maybe what they attempted was impossible. Still, they would have this moment. And neither the wind, the land, nor the forces of nature bore a harsh word for them this day.

Perhaps that's where they belonged: to the land, to each other, in love.

And as he gradually drew her down to him, settling her over him, she knew their life would be together, no matter the prejudice, no matter the trials they might have to endure. Living without one another would hold no happiness.

They had to find some place, some sanctuary where no one would judge them, or their children.

It was out there. She knew it.

But where?

“What in tarnation?” Lieutenant Warrington interrupted the song and emerged from his home, taking up a quick stance outside. He looked up toward the roof, the dim starlight silhouetting the darkened figure of a man. “What are you doing up there, you drunken varmint, singing on my roof in the middle of the night?”

Moon Wolf let his robe fall from around his head, answering slowly, “Comes this one here to give you information on the villain Wolf Shadow. Have heap big knowledge.”

Lieutenant Warrington shook his head. “Can't it wait until morning?”

“Look around you, Lou-ten-tent. Morning has already come.”

“Of all the dad-blamed, stupid…it's pitch black out here, you no-account scalawag. Go away.” The lieutenant started walking back into the house. “And shut up.”

“Seizer Chief, come give me a drink, hey, hey, hey. Seizer Chief, give me a drink, I will tell you what I know.”

The lieutenant rushed back out. “Shut up, I said.” A pistol shot split through the air, the bullet barely missing Moon Wolf.

Moon Wolf didn't budge, didn't even jump. Without raising his voice, he observed, “If you shoot me, then you will never learn what I know.”

“Maybe I don't care. Maybe it's been so long since you've given me useful information that I doubt you have any now.”

Moon Wolf ignored him, singing again, “
Seizer Chief gives me whiskey. Seizer Chief gives me drink, hey, hey, hey
.”

“Damned savages!” The lieutenant stomped back into his house, still muttering, yet he returned within minutes, none too patiently. This time he carried a rifle. Undiplomatically, he demanded, “What do you know about the Wolf Shadow?”

Moon Wolf didn't respond, except to continue singing, “
Come, Seizer Chief, give me more whiskey. Come, Seizer Chief, quiet your enemies
.”

“Tell me, you drunken idiot or I'll fill you full of—”

“Perhaps the Seizer Chief will take pity on this one and give him more whiskey that he better spend the rest of the night. Then, after a good sleep, this one might tell the Seizer Chief where this menace, the Wolf Shadow, comes from.”

“You have discovered his hiding place after all this time?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Ah, I don't believe you. You're crazier than a loon.”

Moon Wolf shrugged and, after a moment, broke out again in song. “
Come, Seizer Chief, come give me more whiskey. My ancestors await. Come, Seizer Chief, come give me more whiskey
.”

“Shut up.”

“When Sun rises, this one will quit.”

“Shut up now.” The lieutenant pushed the rifle into his shoulder, taking aim.

Moon Wolf observed him, ignored him. “
Come, Bear Chief, come quiet your children. Your ancestors await. Come, Bear Chief, come quiet—
”

A single shot flew by Moon Wolf, another followed.

Moon Wolf didn't flinch, didn't even raise an eyebrow as he continued, “
Come warriors, come and rise again. Your ancestors await. Come warriors, come and rise again
.”

“Shut up, you drunken fool.” One more shot whizzed past Moon Wolf.

“
Hey, hey, hey. Your ancestors await
.” He lay down.

By now, a crowd of four other men and a few of the traders' Indian wives had gathered around the lieutenant. “Go ahead and kill the varmint, Cap'n.”

Moon Wolf recognized that voice. It belonged to Jake Berry, the man assigned to watch over Little Brave Woman's house. Beneath the brilliance of the starlight overhead, Moon Wolf grinned, in private and in secret. Perfect. His ruse had worked.

He had needed some way to get Alys back into her home without arousing suspicion about where she had been. He could have devised a simpler diversion, he sup
posed, but he also had business with the lieutenant. Best he get that piece of nastiness behind him.

“Ah, he ain't worth it, Jake,” the lieutenant replied. “Go home, everybody, it's just a drunken Injun. Nothing to see here. Jake, you come inside with me, I need to talk to you before you go.”

“
Young warriors, take not to the drink
,” Moon Wolf continued to sing. “
Young warriors, take not to the drink, hey, hey, hey
.”

The two men disappeared into the house, the others returning to their homes.

Moon Wolf stared up into the sky. Little Brave Woman would have made it to her own house by now, where she would slip up to her room and quietly disrobe. Shifting, he envisioned every gentle curve of her figure as though it were being slowly unveiled to him now.

Unfortunately, it didn't take a great deal of imagination to visualize how she looked, since he had committed every slight variation of her body to memory. Much too soon, lust stirred within him.

He ignored it.

It had become more and more obvious to him, in these last few days, that his original plan for his sweet Alys must, of necessity, be put to rest. He had found certain paradise with her. He could not let her go to another, even if that man were a white man. Not now. Not ever.

Ha
, there appeared to be only one solution for him: he must find a place where he and his Little Brave Woman could live in relative peace, without the prejudice of the white man's world, and to a lesser extent, that of the red man's, also, spreading around them.

He was not without ideas on how to accomplish this. But first he must put an end to the whiskey smuggling and to the need for the Wolf Shadow.

And to that end he now sought out Lieutenant Warring
ton. Though there was little to recommend the man—not honor, not valor, not even honesty—there was one thing the lieutenant had that Moon Wolf did not: the knowledge of who was behind this.

Aa
, yes, Moon Wolf had at last discovered the answer to Little Brave Woman's question from so many weeks ago: he was not prejudiced.

Amongst all tribes there are the good people and the bad. Just as the red man had borne a few unpleasant souls, so, too, had the white man. No, not
all
white men were bad. He had the evidence of this truth all around him, and he admitted his error in assigning the characteristics of a few to the whole.

However, that did not negate the fact that the bad in this white society seemed to dominate the good, at least out here in his own country.

No, by his own observation it appeared that these few treacherous folk who profited from this kind of trade cloaked themselves in invisibility, their means of operation being disloyalty, covert hostility, and underhanded dealings. What Moon Wolf needed to know now was who they were—who was behind these bad things; who sanctioned and surreptitiously supported this whiskey smuggling?

Of one thing Moon Wolf was certain: Lieutenant Warrington was not one of those privileged few. His was a bully's heart, hired by cowards who themselves dared not show their face. What sort of man hired another to do his killing or his stealing for him, who never dared to show the true colors of his face to the light of Sun?

Weaklings, most certainly, but worse. These people had not the decency to challenge another in open warfare. Instead, they pretended to have land, never asking the permission of its original occupants; they posted their fences without council, and, when the Indian objected, devised a way to call the Indian a thief.

When the white man had first come to this land, those precious few had been friendly toward the Indian. Although there had been some treachery, it had not been so widespread. So it was that from those first few, the Indian mind had not been alerted to the intrinsic danger.

Even later, when there had been more reason to doubt, no one had appreciated the threat. Loathing duplicity and dishonesty, it had never occurred to the Indian to doubt the sincerity of these pale-faced people—not until it was too late.

But who would have known? No red man could have anticipated his ultimate demise. It would have been too fantastic to be believed.

Yet, if one looked, no longer would he see the beaver swimming in the rivers; no longer did the mountain lion and the wolf roam as freely as they once had. Even the huge buffalo herds were disappearing.

Had any medicine man predicted this, he would have been laughed from the village. And perhaps it had been this, the unbelievability of it all, that had given this new white man the upper hand.

Moon Wolf sighed. He disgressed.

Lieutenant Warrington had information. Moon Wolf determined to discover it. And to this end he sought council with the man, even if it meant giving a little of himself…very little…

As promised, Moon Wolf continued to sing his drinking songs until at last the sun peeked out above the horizon, there in the eastern sky. He sent a prayer to the Above Ones, asking them to take pity on him and to help him in this, his given task. For a moment he basked in the newly forming rays of the sun.

Then, quickly and silently, he arose and, leaning over the side of the roof, jumped to the ground.

He would see Lieutenant Warrington.

 

Moon Wolf trod to the wooden door and, opening it, staggered inside.

“Where is the Seizer Chief?” he demanded of no one in particular, his articulation slightly slurred.

“I am in here,” the lieutenant called from an adjoining room. “Come in.”

Moon Wolf became alert. There was no hint of frustration in the lieutenant's voice. In truth, the man's utterance held a note of satisfaction.

Pulling his buffalo robe up over one shoulder in the style of a Roman toga, Moon Wolf paced into the room, his robe hiding one .44 Winchester and one knife. He did not wish to fight the lieutenant—rather, he would obtain what knowledge he could from him—but he was not reckless enough to go before him unprepared.

“What news have you for me, Moon Wolf?” The lieutenant didn't even look up, intent upon some papers strewn over his desk.

Moon Wolf slowly strode forward, giving the room a quick glance, which, although done swiftly, noted everything in the surroundings; only one entrance with the possible exception of the two windows, one placed at his back, the other at his right side. Two guns sat loaded and ready upon the lieutenant's desk, another one in his belt, along with a knife and a sword, located strategically by the lieutenant's right hand.

Dirt and grime streaked across the lieutenant's desk, while papers scattered here and there from the breeze blowing in through the open window. Moon Wolf turned a sneer at the disarray.

Lieutenant Warrington's face looked pompous, condescending, and Moon Wolf made a mental note to be careful. This man hid something; something vital to Moon Wolf.

“
Ok-yi
,” he greeted the lieutenant. “We will counsel.”

“Fine,” the lieutenant replied. “Tell me what you know.”

Moon Wolf shifted his weight, asking, “Do you wish this one to speak without inviting me to sit and partake of a council pipe?”

“I have no need for such things. I would have the details alone and be done with it.”

“But this one has need of the council pipe,” Moon Wolf persisted. “How else can you—and I—know that we speak the truth to one another?”

Lieutenant Warrington looked up from his papers at last, a brief flash of frustration crossing his face. “I have tolerated your insolence and insubordination too many times in the past, Moon Wolf, because I know that you do valuable service for me. I have been kind to you to a fault, plying you with the necessary whiskey that you seek. But come now. Surely you know that I am your friend, that I would hardly tell you lies.”

Moon Wolf became instantly alert. Only those with hostile designs ever felt the need to broadcast their “friendship.” True friends remained merely that, rarely, if ever, feeling the need to proclaim their benign intentions.

It was only then that Moon Wolf realized the lieutenant meant to deliver this Indian's immediate demise.
Aa
, yes, now Moon Wolf understood the lieutenant's complacency. This seizer chief would have what information Moon Wolf had, then put him to a quick, sure death.

Out of the corner of his eye, Moon Wolf picked up a movement at the window to his right. Someone waited there; someone with a cocked pistol.

Moon Wolf straightened up and grinned. “Aa,” he said, “the lou-ten-tent speaks great ‘truth' when he says he is surely this one's friend; so the seizer chief will undoubtedly indulge his ‘friend,' as comrades will often do for one another. Let us, as companions then, oblige a goodwill
smoke before our council. Is it not little enough to ask?”

Caught in his own lie, the lieutenant frowned but had little choice. At last, he nodded, albeit reluctantly.

Moon Wolf produced a council pipe from the folds of his robe, then sat on the floor, cross-legged, gesturing to a spot next to him—a site that placed the lieutenant between the Indian and the window.

“Come here now,” said Moon Wolf, “and sit with me. We will smoke and talk to one another as our fathers have done in the past.”

He gave the lieutenant no choice, making it understood that without the smoke, there would be no powwow. The lieutenant rose and came around the desk, squatting down—although with great hesitation—next to Moon Wolf.

“
Ok'yi napi
,” Moon Wolf began. Taking hold of the pipe, he raised it first to Sun, the chief; then to Wind-maker,
Ai-so-pwom-stan;
to Thunder,
Sis-tse-kom;
to Lightning,
Puh-pom
, and to the earth and Above Ones. Lastly, he took a puff before handing the pipe to the lieutenant. Moon Wolf commented, “Know that what we say here must be the truth, lest the forces of nature conspire to harm us, one and all.”