Wind Warrior

by Constance O'Banyon

  “Yes,” Wind Warrior agreed, smiling down at her. “It is cooler by the river.”

  Rain Song looked down at her worn gown, wishing she had not insisted on wearing it when she had a new white doeskin Tall Woman had helped her make for the rendezvous.

  She moved away from the tipi, and Wind Warrior joined her, slowing his long stride to walk beside her.

  “You are a woman, now,” he said, his voice deep, his gaze on the swell of her breasts before he looked into her eyes.

  “I…am.”

  “And I am a man.”

  “A warrior, yes,” she said, wondering why he should make such a statement to her.

  “Are you happy with your life here?”

  “I…love my family.”

  “But you miss your old life?”

  She looked at him. “I rarely think of the past, although I sometimes wonder about my aunt and uncle,” she admitted.

  “What if I asked you to change your life?”

  She frowned up at him. “Why would you do that? I do not understand.”

  Wind Warrior stared at her, wondering if she knew her voice was low and sultry, or what effect it was having on him. His chest rose and fell when he took a steadying breath. “I do not suppose you do.”

  He trembled inside, anticipating how she would react to what he was about to ask her. There was always the chance she would say no.

  Realizing that Chinook was racing to catch up with her, Rain Song stopped to wait for the wolf. Going down on her knees, she planted a kiss on the shaggy head. Burying her fingers in Chinook’s rough coat, she glanced up at Wind Warrior to find him watching her with that intense look she had come to expect from him.

  She was suddenly shy because neither of them had spoken in some time, and the silence lay heavy between them.

  “Rain Song,” Wind Warrior said ruefully, “I believe we have become the center of everyone’s attention.”

  She glanced about her, noticing for the first time that a crowd of people had gathered and were watching them with curiosity.

  And who could blame them?

  Rain Song was somewhat shocked and amazed to find herself with Wind Warrior on the day he should be with the woman he was to marry.

  She stood up and started walking toward the river, with Wind Warrior on one side of her and Chinook on the other.

  He was watching her carefully, and she felt his presence in every fiber of her body. She was also aware of every sound around her—cheering from those who participated in the games and laughter from the women who watched the contests. In a nearby pine tree a mockingbird trilled its sweet song and the wind rustled the branches. Everything was more acute, her senses more in tune, when he was nearby.

  When they had gone beyond sight of the crowd, Wind Warrior took Rain Song’s hand and turned her toward him. His gaze swept her face. “It pains me that you are uncomfortable with me,” he said, “especially since I have something to ask you.”

  Rain Song gave a heavy sigh. “I know what you want to ask, and I want to say how sorry I am.”

  Now Wind Warrior was the one to look puzzled. “What do you think I want to know?”

  They began walking again. “You were in the mountains when your father died,” Rain Song said. “It must have been difficult for you because you could not be with him at such a time. Let me assure you he did not suffer. I sang to him, at his request, and he had a smile on his face when he died.”

  Wind Warrior studied her for a long while. “I am grateful that you made my father’s last moments peaceful, but that is not what I want to speak to you about.”

  She stopped to look at him. “There is something else?” She wished he would go away and leave her alone. Being with him, when she knew he had chosen another, was painful.

  “Do you not suspect what I want to say to you?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I do not. I do not understand you at all.”

  “Ask me any question and I will answer it.”

  “Do you not realize that walking with you today will cause me trouble?”

  “In what way?”

  Rain Song compressed her mouth because he did not comprehend anything. “Many of the other maidens will resent me because you are walking with me.”

  He gave her an enigmatic smile. “Think not of them. Rather think about how alike we are. Our spirits speak to each other. Have you not realized this?”

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “We are nothing alike. Besides my father, you are the most important man in the tribe. I am merely a white captive.”

  “You are much more than that. Come,” he said encouragingly, “we will walk this way.” Wind Warrior fell silent as he guided her down the path that led toward the forest.

  Wind Warrior turned to her, lightly touching her arm, and withdrawing his hand when he saw her drop her gaze.

  “Why do you fear me?” he asked.

  Rain Song had seen the dangerous side of Wind Warrior when he had fought his brother. But she had also seen gentleness in him. “I do not fear you.” She could not tell him she was afraid of her own feelings for him, of the deep yearning that filled her at his touch.

  “What do you want to say to me? I must soon return to my mother. She needs my help.”

  Wind Warrior looked at her with frustration before he spoke. “If you are willing to listen to what I have to say, it may take some time.”

  If she had not known better, Rain Song would have thought he was nervous. But that could not be true; Wind Warrior was never unsure of himself. Still, he couldn’t seem to find a comfortable place for his hands. At last he folded them across his chest and regarded her with a serious expression.

  “No matter how you may deny it, we are much alike,” he insisted. “Surely you have sensed that.”

  She looked deeply into his warm brown eyes: Before, they had been piercing and seeking, but now they held a light of uncertainty in their dark depths. Rain Song knew her answer was important to him, although she did not know why.

  “You are Blackfoot; I am from the white race. I see nothing similar about us.”

  “Rain Song, I have touched your spirit many times. I have felt your confusion, your restlessness, and even your fear. I have not had this connection with any other maiden.”

  She was more perplexed than ever. “Wind Warrior,” she said hurriedly, fearing she would lose her nerve. “You must not say these things to me.”

  He smiled. “At last you say my name.” He leaned against the rough bark of a pine tree, watching her carefully. “I felt an affinity with you almost from the first.”

  Swallowing deep, Rain Song fought against the raw emotions that swamped her. “We were both young when we first met, hardly more than children. For a long time we did not speak the same language, so it was impossible for us to communicate.”

  His smile seemed patient. “But we are not children now.” He was quiet for a moment as if he were weighing his words. “I have been waiting for you to come of age.”

  Chinook pressed against Rain Song’s leg and she touched the wolf’s head, needing comfort. Her stomach tightened in knots and her heart thundered inside her. She thought she saw where he was leading, or was she mistaken? “Wind Warrior, you never seem to notice me, and you have hardly spoken to me in two years.”

  He smiled as if her words amused him. “When you are near, I never take my eyes off you. I am just clever at hiding my interest.”

  Rain Song looked at him with dawning comprehension. Could he be telling her that she was the maiden he had chosen to take for his woman? Now she understood why he had spoken to her father. Although Rain Song had wanted to be with Wind Warrior more than anything, now that the moment was near, she was afraid. “We should not speak of such things.”

  Wind Warrior took Rain Song’s arm, leading her to a wide stone, where he seated her. “I have your father’s permission to speak to you, remember.” He gazed at a hummingbird that buzzed about his head, and paused as if he were listening to s
omething Rain Song could not hear.

  “I need to tell you that Dull Knife will make an offer for you very soon. He has brought many horses to present to your father. We both knew he would come for you someday. That day has come.”

  Rain Song clamped her hands over her ears as if that would protect her from his words. The blood ran cold in her veins. “No!”

  “It is so.”

  Jumping to her feet, Rain Song felt gut-wrenching terror grip her—she clamped her hand over her mouth, feeling that she was going to be ill. “I will never accept him as my husband. You do not know what he did to my friend Susan after we were captured.”

  “I know my brother has done bad things, and I know you fear him.”

  “He is a monster and I will never allow him to come near me.” Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly as she fought to breathe past the fear that threatened to choke her. “I will never be a wife to him.”

  He spoke in a soft voice to calm her. “Dull Knife knows how you feel about him. But he is determined to have you anyway.”

  Anger freed Rain Song to speak her mind. “You are his brother—are you so different from him?” The moment she said the words, she wanted to call them back. Wind Warrior and Dull Knife were nothing alike.

  He compressed his lips. “We have the same mother and father, but beyond that, our similarity ends. There was a time when I admired him and wished I could be more like him. I have not admired him for many years.”

  Letting out her breath, Rain Song studied the tip of her moccasin. “I am sorry I made the comparison. In the past, Dull Knife has asked my father if I could be his wife. Broken Lance refused him then, and he will refuse him now.”

  “I spoke with your father, and he will not refuse my brother’s offer this time…unless another makes an offer for you. He believes you have reached an age to be a wife.”

  Wild terror tore at Rain Song’s mind. “It cannot be true! My father would not make me marry Dull Knife.”

  Seeing how pale she was, Wind Warrior took her arm and eased her back upon the flat rock. Then he bent down so he could look into her eyes. “There is no reason for you to fear becoming Dull Knife’s woman. Someone else has made an offer for you.”

  Rain Song’s eyes were swimming with tears, and it shamed her that Wind Warrior should witness her crying. The Blackfoot looked upon tears as a weakness. Catching her breath, she spoke slowly and distinctly, wishing her body would stop trembling. She no longer thought Wind Warrior would ask her to be his woman. It seemed he was merely trying to warn her about his brother and urge her to accept this other warrior’s offer. “Do you know who he is? If you do, please tell me. Anyone would be better than Dull Knife.”

  Wind Warrior studied her broodingly, attempting to gauge what her reaction would be when he told her the truth. Since he had always envisioned them together, he had thought all he would have to do was make the offer, and Rain Song would accept. This was proving more difficult than he had expected. What if she said she would not have him?

  Nothing had gone the way he had imagined. He stood, full of uncertainty. “I am the one who made the offer.”

  Jerking to her feet, Rain Song stared at him. “Why would you do that, when you have not even been courting me? Do you think you need to rescue me again?”

  Wind Warrior glanced down at her, knowing he had gone about this all wrong. “It is not like that, Rain Song. Someday I will tell you my reason. For now, you must decide, and do it quickly. I would have given you more time, but Dull Knife has forced me to act.”

  Unguarded tears washed down Rain Song’s face. “My mother would never make me marry Dull Knife.”

  “Tall Woman has no say in this. Broken Lance has already decided you will marry today.”

  Rain Song looked at him pleadingly. “Why must this be?”

  “Little one, you are of an age to be a wife. As much as you may wish it, you cannot remain forever with Tall Woman.”

  “I…I…“

  There was sudden urgency in his voice. “Decide, Rain Song. Choose me.”

  Clutching her hands in desperation, she glanced around for some means of escape. Slowly she turned back to Wind Warrior. “You could have any woman you want.”

  His mouth settled in a firm line. “I have made my choice. Your father is waiting for your answer. As am I.”

  Wiping her tears on the palm of her hand, she glanced up at him. In some ways she was more afraid of him than his brother. Dull Knife might break her body, but Wind Warrior could break her heart. “I do not know how to be a…wife.”

  She was so small, so delicate, with a face so beautiful it haunted him day and night. Her green eyes were even now drawing him in, and he wanted to loosen her golden hair and run his fingers through it. He wanted to find out if it was as soft as he had imagined.

  He reached for her hands but she clasped them behind her, avoiding his touch.

  His eyes hardened; his voice was deep and forceful and fierce. “My brother or me?”

  Rain Song wanted nothing more than to be Wind Warrior’s woman, but not like this, not with him feeling a sense of obligation to marry her so his brother would leave her alone. A feeling of hopelessness hit her hard.

  “I have no choice.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “You do have a choice.”

  Wind Warrior wondered if he would ever be able to untangle the misunderstanding he had created.

  Rain Song used the pretense of brushing dried grass from her gown to move away from him. Slumping down beside her wolf, she buried her face in Chinook’s thick coat. “If I say yes, what will you expect of me?”

  Kneeling down beside her, he lifted her chin. “Nothing other than what you do in your father’s tipi. I will be patient until you are ready to accept me as your husband. This all happened so quickly—you are not prepared. I had meant to ask for you at this gathering, then give you more time to become accustomed to the match.” Wind Warrior wiped a tear from her cheek. “But time has run out, little one.”

  Rain Song could hardly think past the drumming of her heart. She had almost forgotten about her old life, but now she wished she could return to the white world, where the choices were not so difficult.

  Rain Song knew she must be wife to one of the brothers. She finally met Wind Warrior’s gaze. “You would not expect me to do those things that Dull Knife did to my friend Susan, and that he tried to do to me that day in the woods?”

  Anger hit him hard. His brother had a lot to answer for. “Let there never be lies between us. I would hope that you would one day accept me fully as your husband.”

  Rain Song still looked troubled. “I do not like the custom of Blackfoot men being allowed to have more than one wife.”

  He touched her hair, his expression softening. “I pledge to you that I will have no other wife but you.”

  She searched his eyes, hoping to see the truth there. “I have known you to be a man who speaks the truth; are you speaking the truth now?”

  His hand moved to her chin and he looked deeply into her eyes. “You have my word.”

  Rain Song nodded. “I would rather be with you than Dull Knife.”

  His mouth twitched—it was an acceptance, but not exactly what he wanted to hear from her. “Then it is settled,” he said. “Let us go to your father and tell him.”

  As they moved down the well-traveled path, Chinook stayed near Rain Song as if by instinct, the wolf knew she was needed.

  Rain Song hung her head, her heart beating fast. When they stepped into the clearing, Wind Warrior stopped, taking her hand and gently touching her cheek.

  “It would soothe my wounded pride if you would not act like a woman who was going to her death.”

  Rain Song nodded, giving him a weak smile. “I would not want my first act as your chosen wife to be one that will shame you.”

  He choked, trying not to laugh. “I can see you are going to be a challenge. I believe you would like to see me drop off the earth at this moment.”r />
  She tossed her head. “No. I would not like that—if anything happened to you, I would be forced to marry your brother.”

  In that moment Rain Song glanced up to see Dull Knife hurrying from his tipi. He was heading straight toward them with a look of rage on his face. Chinook became alert, bristling.

  “What is this?” Dull Knife asked, fury dripping from each word. The veins in his forehead stood out, and anger snapped in his dark eyes. His gaze dropped to their clasped hands. “What have you done, my brother?” His voice became more intense when he said, “Rain Song belongs to me. Was it not I who found her and brought her to our village? Was it not I who made a gift of her to Broken Lance when I could have kept her for myself? Was it not I who spoke first for her?”

  Wind Warrior’s hand went to his knife and he pulled Rain Song back against him. “Get out of my way. She is my woman now. There is nothing you can do about it.”

  Rain Song knew Chinook was ready to attack, so she kept a hand on her head, murmuring low to gentle her.

  Dull Knife shook with rage. Glancing about, he noticed a crowd had gathered, watching them with interest. He remembered that their last confrontation had ended in defeat for him. “You may think you have won today,” he hissed. “But tomorrow will be mine.”

  Wind Warrior moved around Dull Knife, keeping Rain Song on the other side of him, his hand never leaving the hilt of his knife. “Rain Song has agreed to be my woman, and Broken Lance has accepted my gift of horses. You cannot go against Blackfoot law or you will become an outcast.”

  Rain Song saw the danger reflected in Wind Warrior’s eyes, and Dull Knife must have seen it as well because he turned away, his angry footsteps taking him to his horse. Once he was mounted, he turned back to his brother. “This is not over.”

  Wind Warrior resheathed his knife. “It is over. Leave.”

  They both silently watched Dull Knife ride away, before Rain Song went limp and sagged against Wind Warrior. She was glad he had asked her to be his wife. Her gaze met his and she saw understanding reflected there.