Wind Dancer was eager to go to his family’s tepee to show them he had returned safely. He also wanted to share his exciting news with his best friend, Red Feather, and his younger brother, War Eagle. Yet, he always obeyed his grandfather, so he slid off his horse’s back, secured four sets of leather thongs to bushes, and followed the slow-moving shaman to a small clearing surrounded by black boulders. As with Nahemana, he sat on the ground cross-legged, facing him and with little space between them.
“The air grows warmer each sun, micinksi, but a strange coldness attacks within me.” Nahemana revealed his concerns in low tones. “I have not felt such trouble in my heart and mind since my firstborn daughter vanished many seasons ago. I fear danger rides toward us at a fast pace and great suffering lies ahead for our people if we do not find and defeat it. My daughter’s safe return was a great victory over our enemy, but soon we must seek an even greater victory over them.”
Wind Dancer remembered the painful time when all believed his mother was dead for two circles of the seasons. That had been twenty winters past when he had lived to four marks on a growing stick. It was during that tormenting time when his father had felt and shown his only weakness, but that was not something either he or Nahemana wanted to recall. It was strange, he reasoned, that the number two played another agonizing part in his life, for two winters’ past, it felt as if his heart had been torn from his body when his son and wife were slain by a Crow band. At times, Wakantanka worked His will in mysterious and cutting ways, yet an honorable man accepted those challenges, without anger and a loss of faith in Him. “When will you seek answers about me and our danger from the Great Spirit, Grandfather?” Wind Dancer asked.
From his grandson’s expression, Nahemana knew his mind had visited the past once more, and silently grieved with him for a while. “I will do so on the next full moon,” he finally answered, “as He told me in a dream when I last slept. The ice which chills my thoughts and body comes from the direction of the rising sun and from where the winter winds are born and blow toward us.”
“You speak of two different perils, Grandfather?”
“Yes, micinksi, but the two threats will melt into one force as the ice arrows on the trees melt into a stream and mix with its waters. If we do not control it and keep it within its banks, the new water has the power to flow over us and destroy our people and camp.”
Wind Dancer felt his own heart chill and his spirit tremble at the use of the number two again. “Do not worry, Grandfather,” he tried to assure the shaman, “we will keep it within its banks.”
Nahemana’s weakened gaze locked with Wind Dancer’s. His grandson’s eyes contained a contradictory mixture of confidence and uncertainty, as did his own heart. “That task will be yours, micinksi, for you also walked in my dream when I last slept. You have been chosen as the Great Spirit’s weapon against our enemies. As has another who is a stranger to us, but will become our ally and your helper. I will pray for your courage and skills to help you walk the path He will set before you.”
Wind Dancer wondered who that “ally” and “helper” would be and when he would come. “What words must I speak and what deeds must I do to save our people and our land, Grandfather?” he asked with great curiosity.
“The Great Spirit did not allow me to hear and see them at this time. Soon He will speak them in a loud voice for my old ears to hear and He will uncloud my eyes so I may see them and reveal them to you and others. I will go to Mato Paha for my vision-quest on the next Wi minbe.”
Wind Dancer’s heart filled with anticipation and he prayed he could meet the unknown challenge which loomed before him. But what, he wondered, did his coming duty have to do with what had taken place on the past sun? Did his task and destiny involve the fallen Apsaalooke warriors, or the spirit woman who still haunted him, or both? He had no choice except to live through twenty-one suns until the next full moon at their sacred Bear Mountain where his grandfather, their shaman, would be granted his answers.
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eISBN 978-1-4201-2746-1
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Copyright © 1999 by Janelle Taylor
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Table of Contents
Cover Page
PASSION’S AWAKENING
Other Books By
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Author’s Note
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Lakota Dawn Page 31