Dull Knife held his temper with effort. “Two lives were lost in prairie fire, and all the tipis were burned as well. My brother did not foresee that.”
Broken Lance glanced at his daughter. “I will ask Rain Song to tell us why there was a fire on the prairie. Stand up and come forward, daughter.”
Rain Song was nervous but determined to speak of the events as they had occurred. She stood, clasping her hands, feeling everyone’s attention centered on her.
Broken Lance smiled encouragingly. “Speak, daughter.”
She wet her lips. “The fire did not begin spontaneously. Spotted Flower admitted to me and my mother that she was the one who started it.”
“Why would she do such a thing, Rain Song?” asked Big Hand, the elder who had taken Lean Bear’s place when he grew sick the previous winter and died.
Rain Song looked into the elder’s earnest eyes and realized he wanted to hear her opinion, which surprised her. “I do not know why she did such a thing, but I do know she wanted to see me dead and Wind Warrior discredited.” Her gaze moved to Tall Woman, who encouraged her with a nod. “Spotted Flower attempted to take the remaining horses so my mother and I would not have a way to escape the fire.”
Dull Knife looked at her with anger. If what Rain Song said was true, then Spotted Flower had disregarded his orders. She was supposed to make certain Rain Song escaped the fire unharmed. He wanted the council to believe the fire had been a natural occurrence. “You say this is true. Are we supposed to believe you?”
Seeing her daughter’s trembling lips part, Tall Woman interceded. “May I speak?” she asked.
The elder nodded.
“What my daughter told you is the truth. For her part in the tragedy, Spotted Flower was banned from our midst. As I see it, the matter is over.”
Dull Knife could hardly challenge the word of Chief Broken Lance’s woman. His expression was sulky, and his face reddened as it always did when he was furious.
“Then let us bring this meeting to a close,” Big Hand said. “Dull Knife, you were mistaken when you chose to remain near the river and convinced others to do the same. But I place no blame on you—you thought you were right, and Wind Warrior thought he was right. Now that we know the outcome, we can all draw our own conclusions. As for me, I believe you were wrong, Dull Knife. Let the matter rest there.”
Rain Song remembered that Spotted Flower had said someone wanted to discredit Wind Warrior. Her gaze met Dull Knife’s—she believed it was he, but she had no proof.
Should she say something to the council?
Ducking her head to break eye contact with Dull Knife, she decided to say nothing. Rain Song waited until her mother rose to leave, and then she did the same. Once she was out of the tipi, Rain Song wished she had voiced her suspicions of Dull Knife. But that was all they were, only suspicions.
Looking skyward, she watched the first snowflakes of the season drift downward. There was coldness in her heart, and a fear that Dull Knife would do something to harm Wind Warrior. Not wanting to take the chance of running into Dull Knife, Rain Song hurried down the footpath into the woods, soon joined by her faithful Chinook. It had been difficult to relive the horrors of the prairie fire today, but it had been necessary to settle the matter.
Now she needed to be alone.
The wind whipped up and sent a chill through her body. Halfway down the path, she heard footsteps coming from behind and she turned.
The bristles on Chinook’s neck stood, and the wolf growled deep in her throat, dropping into an attack stance.
Dull Knife had followed her.
She wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go that he could not overtake her.
“You once walked with my brother—now walk with me,” he demanded.
She glanced down at Chinook—the wolf was quivering, ready to attack. “My father gave his permission for Wind Warrior to walk with me. He did not give you permission.”
Dull Knife grabbed her arm and shoved her behind a tree, and Chinook lunged, going for Dull Knife’s throat. Before Rain Song knew what was happening, Dull Knife stabbed Chinook, and the wolf fell to the ground.
Crying out in horror, Rain Song broke away from Dull Knife and rushed to Chinook. Going down on her knees, she quickly examined the wolf to determine if the wound was life-threatening. Chinook was bleeding from her side, and Rain Song tried to stop the flow of blood by pressing her hand against the wound. When Chinook tried to get up, Rain Song ordered her to stay.
Her anger overruled her fear. Turning to Dull Knife, she narrowed her eyes. “You are evil.”
Dull Knife yanked her up, slamming her against a tree. “Forget about the wolf. I do not believe you yet comprehend that you belong to me,” he growled. “I will kill any man who comes near you. Do you understand that?”
He pressed his body against hers. She struggled and fought, trying to push him away. Bile rose in her throat and she willed herself not to be ill. She said forcefully through clenched teeth, “Let-me-go.”
Ignoring her, Dull Knife tightened his hold, glancing down the path to make sure they were alone. “I will have you now, Rain Song. No man will want you after I’ve finished with you,” he said, lifting her gown and shoving his hand underneath. His voice was deep and husky. “I will have you.”
All Rain Song could think was that the hands touching her were the same as had touched Susan, murdered her. She felt a sob building up inside. “Leave me alone!”
He jerked her chin and made her look at him as his hand continued to climb higher up her leg. “I will leave you alone when I am finished with you.”
Wind Warrior appeared so quietly, neither of them heard him approach. “You are finished. Take your hands off her.”
Dull Knife released Rain Song and turned to his brother with a sneer. “I knew you were watching me when I followed Rain Song. I have been expecting you, little brother.”
“Move away from him, Rain Song,” Wind Warrior said, all the while watching his brother.
Dull Knife gave Rain Song a vicious shove toward Wind Warrior, and at the same time, withdrew his still-bloody knife.
Wind Warrior quickly pushed Rain Song behind him.
She had never seen Wind Warrior so angry. Well, perhaps the day she arrived in the village, when he had stepped between her and his brother. In horror she watched him withdraw his own knife and face Dull Knife.
Wind Warrior circled his brother. “You will never again put your hands on Rain Song.”
Dull Knife, so certain of his advantage over Wind Warrior, merely sneered. “Do you really want to challenge me, little brother?”
“It is time someone stopped you.”
“I have waited for this day for a long time. You have been a thornbush scratching at my skin for too long.”
“No, do not fight him!” Rain Song cried. “Not because of me.”
Neither man paid her the slightest attention. They were circling each other, both filled with anger, both waiting for an opening.
“You can walk away, Dull Knife,” Wind Warrior warned, “if you give your word not to come near Rain Song again.”
Dull Knife gave a derisive laugh. “You only say this because you know I am stronger, and you do not want to test your blade against me. Today, little brother, you die.”
When the two warriors came together, it was with such force that one of them, Rain Song did not know which, bumped into her and she went tumbling to the ground. Quickly rising, she watched with her heart beating in fear. Dull Knife was the larger of the two, the more experienced, and ruthless. She feared for Wind Warrior.
Dull Knife shoved Wind Warrior backward, but Wind Warrior caught himself and managed to remain on his feet. Once more the two of them circled each other. When Wind Warrior finally made his move, it was with such quickness it took Rain Song by surprise and Dull Knife as well. Wind Warrior slammed into his brother, taking them both to the ground. Locked in a life-and-death struggle, with muscles bulging, the strain showed on both their faces.
“You cannot have her,” Dull Knife panted, attempting to throw his brother off.
“And I will not allow you to have her,” Wind Warrior said.
Rain Song was shaking, unable to take her eyes off the two warriors. She moved to Chinook, and when the wolf tried to rise, Rain Song placed the animal’s head in her lap, stroking her gently.
The two warriors were still struggling for supremacy. In no time at all, Wind Warrior had gained the advantage over his brother. He threw Dull Knife to the ground and pinned him there with the weight of his body. Dull Knife might be heftier, but Wind Warrior had superior strength.
Grabbing up a broken branch, he pressed it across Dull Knife’s throat until his brother gagged and gasped for breath.
“Tell me you will no longer haunt Rain Song’s steps. Say it!” Wind Warrior demanded.
In a last burst of defiance, Dull Knife tried to shove Wind Warrior away, but his brother was too strong for him. “It is not for you to tell me to leave her alone,” he croaked. “She was my captive. She still belongs to me.”
Wind Warrior pressed the branch tighter across his brother’s throat. “You gave up any claim you had to Rain Song when you presented her to the chief and his woman. Now yield, or die!”
Dull Knife’s muscles tightened, but at last he went limp and nodded.
Wind Warrior stood, gripping the branch like a weapon. “I allow you to live today because you are my brother. But I will not hesitate to kill you if you ever go near Rain Song again.”
Dull Knife stood, his face red with anger. He glared at Rain Song, and then dropped his gaze—no warrior had ever beaten him before, and it brought him great shame that Rain Song had witnessed his defeat.
When Rain Song saw Dull Knife’s eyes, she shivered with dread. There was no doubt in her mind he was already plotting revenge on his brother.
Without a word, Dull Knife turned and left.
Wind Warrior came to her, moving the wolf aside and lifting her up to stand beside him. He gently touched a scratch on her face. “Did he hurt you?”
She had not meant to cry, but her shoulders shook and tears blinded her. Turning so he would not see her tears, she spoke in a tremulous voice. “No. I am not hurt. But…Chinook…is.”
Strong arms went around her and Wind Warrior turned her to face him. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, her head dropped on his shoulder. Her eyes closed as his dark hair cascaded against her cheek. She relished his nearness, his warmth, and the safe feeling that enveloped her. “I was afraid for you.”
“You need not have been.” He tilted her chin. “Do not fear for me, little one. I can take care of myself.”
“I am not a little one. I am almost a woman.”
Wind Warrior did not relinquish her, and she did not try to move away from him. She could feel the beat of his heart, and she could hear the beating of hers.
“Chinook needs me.”
He touched his mouth to her neck and slid it to her ear, where he whispered, “Go, my little almost-a-woman.”
Wind Warrior released Rain Song and turned his attention to the wounded wolf, examining her injury. “It is little more than a flesh wound. She is going to be sore for a few days. But she will heal.” He lifted Chinook in his arms. “Let us take her to the medicine man—he is adept at tending wounds.”
Rain Song laid her face against Chinook, her connection to Wind Warrior. “Sweet wolf, you are hurt because of me.” She knew the day would have ended quite differently if Wind Warrior had not followed Dull Knife into the woods. “I am sorry for causing you trouble yet again,” she told him.
He gave her a smile that went through her like a strong wind.
“Think nothing of it,” he replied, his gaze locked with hers. Then he said in a teasing tone. “It strikes me that you are always in some kind of trouble.”
Rain Song nodded. “That does seem to be my nature. And it seems to be your nature to save me from the trouble I get myself into.”
Wind Warrior gave her a look she did not understand. “It is no more than I would have done for any Blackfoot maiden who suffered my brother’s torment.”
Blackfoot maiden?
Yes, that was the way Rain Song was beginning to think of herself. For so long she had fought against being absorbed into the tribe, but she no longer belonged to the white world. She thought of Tall Woman—not even Aunt Cora had been more of a mother to her than her Blackfoot mother.
As she stared into Wind Warrior’s eyes, she felt as if a flame had torched her heart. He stirred emotions in her that she had never felt before, but they were strong and consuming.
Those she loved and cherished most were Blackfoot, and so was she in spirit.
Chapter Seventeen
Two Years Later, Blackfoot Rendezvous
A feeling of festivity was in the air as the Blood Blackfoot welcomed their brothers from other Blackfoot tribes: the Piegan and the Siksika had come together for their yearly gathering. It had rained the night before and a continuous muggy breeze swept across the nearby Porcupine Hills.
The sun poked through a smoke-colored sky, promising a fine day for the gathering. The whole area was covered with wild lilies and lupine, and the wind carried the sweet aroma of spring flowers. The Milk River was running full to its banks, and children splashed happily in the shallow parts.
There were even French trappers and fur traders among the people gathered—some who had taken Blackfoot wives.
Tall Woman, with Fire Wolf on her hip, entered the tipi, laughing. “Daughter, you would not believe your eyes if you saw all the maidens fussing among themselves, putting ribbons and beads in their hair. Of course they are all wearing their best gowns, hoping to find a husband at the gathering. And you know how silly they can be when they know Wind Warrior will be attending the games.”
As Tall Woman placed the child on a buffalo robe, she noticed Rain Song was wearing an older gown with tattered fringe at the bottom. “You do know that he will be arriving at the gathering today?”
Hope blossomed in Rain Song’s heart, only to be dashed a moment later. She was angry with herself for caring. She had seen Wind Warrior from a distance many times in the last two years, but not once had he spoken to her, or even looked in her direction.
“Let the others make fools of themselves. I will not.” She glanced up at her mother and found Tall Woman smiling knowingly. “Is it certain he will come?”
“It is certain, my daughter. He sent word that he wants to speak to your father.” Tall Woman’s smile deepened. “What do you think that is about?”
Although Rain Song gave a shrug of indifference, her heart fluttered at the thought of seeing Wind Warrior, who had been away all winter. Chinook rose and padded to Rain Song, nudging her hand. Absently she reached for a chunk of dried meat and gave it to the wolf, which proceeded to curl up beside Fire Wolf.
“There is something else I think you should know.” Tall Woman turned her full attention on her daughter. “Spotted Flower arrived here last night. They say she has been living with a Frenchman since she was driven from our village.”
Rain Song was surprised. “I wonder why she did not return to Fort Benton.”
“I suppose she does not want to go back to that life. I wanted you to know she is here, so you would not be surprised if you see her today.”
“My mother, two people died in the prairie fire. One was a child, the other was an elder’s wife. Why would my father allow her near our people?”
“Broken Lance does not tell the French trappers who can live among them, or who they can bring to the rendezvous.”
Tall Woman poured water in a wooden bowl and placed it down for Chinook to drink. “Put her out of your mind. This is a time of great joy for the young people of the tribe.”
Rain Song returned to the subject that filled her thoughts. “I wonder why Wind Warrior has not chosen a woman to share his life. He could have any maiden he wanted.”
Tall Woman realized he
r daughter had not understood the significance of Wind Warrior asking to speak to Broken Lance. “Who can say what is in his thoughts? I suppose he must be sad since his father died this winter. He is all alone but for Dull Knife, who is worse than having no brother at all.”
“Did you know his mother?”
“Yes. She was sister to my mother, and a very worthy woman. The women in my family are very strong-willed. I suspect she taught Wind Warrior much of what he believes today. Dull Knife, being the elder son, fell under his father’s teachings. We know how that turned out.”
Rain Song returned to her task of grinding camas bulbs, which were to be used to sweeten the flat cakes that would be served later in the day. “A warrior should choose a wife.”
“Daughter, you have worked enough,” Tall Woman said, removing the wooden grinder from her hand. “Take your little brother with you and join the others of your age.”
“I would rather—”
Tall Woman’s hands went to her hips. “The games are meant to be enjoyed, and you must see them. But first you should change your gown.”
“I refuse to make a fuss over what I wear today,” Rain Song said, smoothing her hair. “There is nothing wrong with this gown.”
“It has no beads and some of the fringe has fallen off. Do you not want to look your best?”
Unenthusiastically Rain Song explained, “No one will notice or care what I wear.” She took Fire Wolf’s hand, but then paused at the tipi opening. “I have heard there will be many couples united at the gathering. Do you suppose he has come here to select a wife?”
Tall Woman bent to fold a blanket, turning her head to hide a smile. “Of whom do you speak?” she asked, although she already knew.
“Wind Warrior,” Rain Song admitted, her cheeks coloring.
Tall Woman studied her daughter. Rain Song was not even conscious that she had grown into a beautiful young woman. Her hair was a halo of gold, her eyes as green as spring grass. Her face was so lovely, warriors, upon seeing her for the first time, stopped in their tracks when she passed by them. She had a warm and loving temperament, and word that she sang beautifully had spread to other tribes.
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