Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
Lightning crashed above her, around her, the acrid scent lending the air the sickening odor of poisonous gas.
She stood defenseless in the middle of the prairie.
Thunder sounded from all directions. It cracked the eardrums, it tested one’s courage, and she cowered before its power.
A man—or was he a god, for he was half blue, half gray—stepped toward her.
He was laughing. “I will kill him,” said the god.
“No!”
The god laughed. “I have bested better than he.”
“No!” she cried again.
“Go back from whence you came. You are not wanted here; you do not belong here.”
Lifting her chin, she said, “I belong with my husband. I always will. It is you who is out of place. Go!”
“I belong everywhere,” said the god, “for I am the Thunderer.”
She could think of nothing to retaliate, since this was obviously the truth. And so she spoke the only words she could think of, and she yelled out, “Why do you wish me to go?”
The Thunderer said simply, “Because you are a danger to me.”
“I? I? How can I be a danger to you? You, who are a god?”
The Thunderer laughed. “You will have to discover this for yourself. Or perhaps I should kill you, first.”
He lifted his hand to do so…
Suzette gasped and sat up as though shot from a gun. She was alone.
Where was Black Lion? Was he all right? Was he in danger?
Sunlight streamed into their shelter from between the cracks in the branches. Her pulse was racing, and she inhaled pine-scented air on a deep breath, calming herself.
Glancing around the environment, she took stock of where she was. She was not out in the open, and she was not confronting the Thunderer. She was in a shelter. There was no storm here, and no reason to be concerned.
The dream had seemed very real. But it’s only a dream, she told herself.
Still, her emotions were running rampant, urging her into action—to leave here to find Black Lion, if only to ease her mind that he was all right.
As if she had conjured him up by her thoughts, Black Lion appeared at the entrance of their shelter, squeezing in through the tight entryway. Seeing her sitting up and alert, he said, “Hau, it is good you are awake, for this day is a pretty one and…” He frowned at her. “Is something wrong?”
“No. But I admit, I am happy to see you.”
“Happy?” His look at her was doubtful.
“Yes, I am happy,” she defended, then she sighed. “But I am hungry. Have you any pemmican or water or other meat or berries I might eat?”
He nodded and reached for the food, which he always kept in a rawhide bag. He gave her a handful, a prize she gladly accepted.
“Hmmm, this is good. Did you make this?”
“Hiya, no. Rabbit Leggings made it.”
“Ah, Rabbit Leggings again.”
“She is the wife of my friend, my kola, Two Bears.”
“Two Bears? But I thought you were Two Bears. Are you not also known by this name?”
“So I am, when I am with the Wild West Show. But I am known there as Two Bears only because I took his place with the show. It was Two Bears who was under contract there, not I.”
“Indeed?”
“My friend was too ill to make the journey with the show over the water. He asked me to go in his place and pretend to be he. It is the only reason I have been allowed to remain with the show. People think I am Two Bears and that I am married. Those who are from my tribe, the Hunkpapa Lakota, and who know the truth, keep their silence.”
“Indeed,” she repeated, though she was certain her look at him was one of caution. “Then what you are saying is that Rabbit Leggings is married to Two Bears, but this person is not you?”
“Hau. Hau.”
“And you expect me to believe this?”
“I do.”
She exhaled slowly and cleared her brow. “I do not understand what magic it is you hold over me, but I am inclined to believe you. Come, sit here beside me. I have had a bad dream, and I think I should tell you it, since you were a part of it.”
He did as she asked, and, having seated himself beside her, he offered her more pemmican. “I will listen to this dream, for dreams can be wakan, holy.”
“Truly?”
He nodded. “It is rare, however, for a woman to have a dream which is wakan, though it does happen occasionally.”
“Then it is only for the men of your tribe to experience this?”
“Hau, hau. This is so, but perhaps it is only so because a woman rarely seeks to dream, whereas a man must.”
“He must?”
“Hau. Since men go to war and their lives are often at stake, a man will seek to have an advantage over his enemies. He will sacrifice and attend to ritual in order to experience a sacred dream, for these tell him how to have power over his enemies. Most often an animal or some other form of life will take pity on the one who has sacrificed so much and will offer the power of his species to the man.”
“Then a god, himself, rarely speaks to one who is having a dream?”
“Again, it is rare, but it does happen. Have you had a spirit dream?”
“I…I cannot tell, though I seriously question it. Without doubt I have had many a bad dream in my time, and I am certain this is all there is to it. Still, it involved you, and I was afraid, and—”
“Eat first,” he interrupted her. “If it is a spirit dream you have had, let us honor it in the right way and speak of it in a council. To do otherwise could cause the dream to lose its power, or to recoil upon you.”
“But it is not for myself that I worry.”
“I understand, but let us say no more about it until we have eaten.”
She swallowed the pemmican he offered. “Where have you been?”
“I have been backtracking to see if we are being followed.”
“And are we?”
“We are.”
“Pray, this is bad news. I would have thought they would have given up after a few days.”
“Perhaps most men might. But I think it is the Long-haired Show Man himself who follows us, and he is a scout of some merit. Perhaps he, too, favored your grandmother.”
“I would like to think so, but it is a well-known fact that Mr. Cody has a fancy for opera singers as a rule. Perhaps he objects to losing two at the same time.”
“Maybe this is so, but this does not alter the fact he is following us, and I must keep his progress well within my sights.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” She took another bite of jerky. “Did you sleep well?”
He didn’t answer. Rather, he tore off a bit of jerky with his teeth.
She frowned at him. “You do sleep, do you not?”
“I rest.” He took hold of another piece of dried meat.
“Yes, so you have said, but there is a difference between resting and actual sleep. Do you sleep?” she persisted.
He continued chewing over his meal as though it were particularly tough. At last, he said, “Once we are away from the danger the Long-haired Show Man presents, I will sleep more.”
“In other words, you do not.”
He didn’t answer.
“Do you stay with me, remaining awake, while I slumber, then?”
“Sometimes I do,” he answered after a time. “Other times I backtrack to erase our trail and to spy on the men tracking us. There are four of them. Soon I hope they will give up their search.”
“I too. And when this happens?”
He glanced up at her, sending her a most endearing leer. “Then we might engage in more of this morning’s pleasantries.”
As his gaze raked over her, she was suddenly reminded she was still quite naked.
He fingered the blanket she was using to cover herself, pushing it down her arms. “Perhaps before our council, there is time for another matter of importance. And since the white man’s scouts are a good distance from us… Have you had enough to eat?”
She smiled. “Of food.” She raised her gaze to meet his.
He considered her look momentarily, then he stole a kiss from her upturned lips. “But,” he whispered against her mouth, “you are hungry for something else?”
“I think you must be able to see my thoughts.”
He grinned at her as he pulled the blanket from around her completely, and setting it beneath her, urged her back onto it. “Or perhaps you see mine.”
Whatever was the truth of the matter, it was of little concern to either of them, since it appeared they were both hungry for the same thing. It was several hours before they were anywhere near ready to attend to the council.
Physically satiated, and, lying with his wife in his arms, Black Lion let his gaze dance off the sunlight pouring through the cracks in their ceiling. His spirits soared, and he realized he had never felt such joy.
Without doubt, the carnal release was satisfying, but when such delight was coupled with the fact of love, the fulfillment turned from mundane to extraordinary, as his spirit touched hers, and gently, he became one with her.
Love had to be the cause of such joy. Like an exquisite piece of music, love made the erotic as delicate and flawless as a fine-tuned melody. Never had he loved a person more.
Yet, he wondered if the two of them could make a happy life together. There were so many circumstances against them: culture, mind-set, daily ritual, not to mention the prejudice which would surround them always. Could they find happiness in such an environment?
Glancing at her now, he watched her sleep, memorizing the look of her dark eyelashes against the dainty flush of her skin, noticing as well the rhythmic rise and fall of her breast. Her long, dark hair was spread out over his arm, and her full lips begged for a kiss, but he dared not partake.
His duty was to scout and to protect, and he still had much work to do this day.
If they were to hold a council, he must ensure the white men were still a full day’s journey away.
With one more loving look at her, he left their shelter to attend to his duty.
It was late afternoon when Black Lion returned to their tiny haven. Expecting to find his wife asleep, he was pleasantly surprised to discover she was awake and dressed. He smiled at her and slid into their dwarfish housing. “I am happy to see you.”
She returned his greeting in much the same manner. “I have been worried about you. I assume you went to scout on those men who are following us?”
“I did.”
“And are we still at a safe distance?”