Wolf Shadow (10 page)

It was that depressing prospect that followed her to sleep.

* * * * *

Chance woke with a low groan. Every muscle in his body ached
from sleeping on the cold hard ground. His ribs ached. His head throbbed
monotonously. He knew he should be glad to be alive but at the moment, it was
hard to remember why.

One of the warriors freed his hands and gestured for him to
get up. Feeling like he was a hundred years old, Chance gained his feet. He
lifted a hand to his head, winced as his fingers touched a lump the size of a
goose egg. There was blood matted in his hair.

With a grunt, the warrior pushed him toward a stand of
timber, indicating he should relieve himself.

Chance did so gratefully. For a moment, he considered trying
to overpower the Crow warrior and making a run for it even though he wasn’t
sure how far he’d get on foot in his present condition. Still, he might have
tried it if not for Winter Rain. He couldn’t leave her behind.

With that in mind, he didn’t offer any resistance when the
Crow bound his hands behind his back once again.

Returning to the campsite, Chance saw that the warriors were
getting ready to leave. He spied Winter Rain standing off by herself. Since no
one seemed to be paying any attention to him, he walked over to her.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, her gaze moving over him. “Are you?”

“My head hurts. Other than that, I’m fine, all things
considered.”

“Here.” She offered him a bite of the pemmican one of the
warriors had given her.

Chance took a bite and chewed it slowly, only then realizing
how hungry he really was.

Winter Rain took another bite, and then gave him the rest.
“How long do you think it will be before we get to their village?” she asked.

Before Chance could reply, one of the warriors came striding
toward them. Lashing Winter Rain’s hands together, the Crow lifted her onto the
back of a horse. The warrior then grabbed Chance by the arm and helped him onto
the back of another horse. Though he was only guessing, Chance figured he’d
been slowing them down. Now that he was mounted, they could make better time.

In minutes, the rest of the war party was mounted and they
were on their way.

Chance closed his eyes and willed the hours to pass.

When they stopped to water the horses at midday, Chance
knelt beside the stream. Stretching out on his belly, he took a drink, then
dipped the side of his head into the water. The cold water numbed the pain in
his head even as it rinsed the blood from his hair.

He stayed there for several minutes before levering upright.
Cold water dripped onto his shoulder and down his back.

A short time later, they were on the move again. Chance
glanced at the surrounding countryside. If he recollected right, the Crow
village was no more than an hour or two away. He’d be glad to get off the back
of this horse, he mused, and yet he couldn’t stifle a sense of growing unease
as he wondered what his fate would be when they reached their destination. And
what of Winter Rain? Would she be passed from warrior to warrior? Or would the
Crow who had captured her make her his slave?

Dammit, he had to get away from here, had to find a way to
get Winter Rain back to the Bryants so he could collect the rest of the reward,
hopefully in time to pay off the mortgage on the ranch.

Lost in thoughts of escape, he was hardly aware of the
passage of time until he looked up and saw the Crow camp. Dozens of lodges were
spread in a shallow valley. The Crow horse herd grazed alongside a winding
river. It was a peaceful scene, he mused, reminiscent of what the Lakota
village had looked like before the Crow attack. He hated to think of how it
must look now. For the first time, he wondered what had provoked the Crow’s
raid. Had it been in retaliation for the horses stolen by Strong Elk? Chance
grunted softly. Neither the Crow nor the Lakota needed a reason. They were
enemies and that was reason enough.

As they neared the village, a number of dogs came running
toward them, barking furiously. Men, women, and children stopped what they were
doing and surged toward the returning war party. The warriors dismounted and
tossed the reins of their horses to their wives or children. A few women and
young girls moved through the throng, obviously searching for their husbands or
fathers. Soon after, a high keening wail broke the still afternoon air as the
bereaved gave voice to their grief.

One of the warriors pulled Chance off the back of his horse
and dragged him toward a tree. A noose dangled from a limb. The warrior tugged
the loop over Chance’s head and tightened it around his neck, then hurried
toward his lodge.

There was just enough play in the rope to allow Chance to
sit down and he did so, resting his back against the trunk.

He saw Winter Rain standing between the warrior who had
claimed her and a very pregnant woman. Speaking rapidly, the woman gestured at
Winter Rain and shook her head, apparently not at all happy that her husband
had returned with a slave. Chance couldn’t blame her. The Crow woman was as
homely as a horse. Little wonder that she didn’t want a pretty young maiden to
share her lodge.

The conversation went on for several minutes. Then, with an
air of defeat, the warrior nodded. Indicating Winter Rain should follow him, he
walked toward a small Crow lodge and rapped on the door flap. A wrinkled old
woman with gray hair stepped out of the lodge. He spoke to the old woman for
several minutes. She nodded and the warrior untied Winter Rain’s hands. The old
woman motioned for Winter Rain to enter the lodge.

She spoke to the warrior, and then followed Winter Rain
inside. The warrior stood there for a moment, then turned and went back to his
own dwelling.

Chance grunted softly, pleased that Winter Rain would be
living with the old woman. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about some randy
young buck stealing into her bed late at night. And stealing her away from an
old woman would be a sight easier than trying to spirit her away from a
warrior’s lodge, assuming he could find a way before they killed him.

With that grim thought in mind, he rested his head against
the trunk of the tree and closed his eyes. Rest was what he needed now. He had
to regain his strength, had to be ready to make a break for it should the
opportunity arise.

* * * * *

Winter Rain stepped inside the old woman’s lodge and glanced
around. There were a few cooking pots stacked on one side of the doorway.
Several storage containers were located on the other side. A backrest made of
willow branches and covered by a thick robe was located alongside the fire pit.
A bedroll was situated against the back wall of the lodge.

She stood in the center of the lodge, wondering what would
be expected of her. She didn’t speak Crow; it was doubtful the old woman spoke
Lakota.

The old woman solved the problem of speech with sign
language.

“What is your name?”

“Winter Rain.”

Murmuring, “Itche,” the old woman nodded, then went on
signing. “I am called Blackbird-in-the-Morning. You will keep my lodge clean,
gather wood and water. If you try to escape, you will be whipped. You
understand?”

“
Yes
.”

“
Itche,
” the old woman said again.

Winter Rain repeated the word in her mind, deciding it must
be the word for “good” in the Crow language.

The old woman gestured at the door. “
Go. Get wood for
fire
.” She pointed at a small pile of twigs and branches. “
Bale
,”
she said, then, pointing at the fire pit, “
bilee.
”

Winter Rain nodded. “
Bale
.
Bilee
.”

“
Itche
,” Blackbird-in-the-Morning said. She gestured
at the doorway. “
Go now.”

Winter Rain stepped out of the lodge. Things could be worse,
she thought. She could be the slave of that warrior and his wife. Given her
choice, she would much rather be Blackbird-in-the-Morning’s slave, she thought,
and then frowned. Given her choice, she’d rather be back home. She blinked back
her tears. Would she ever see Mountain Sage and Eagle Lance again?

With a sigh, she started toward a stand of timber when she
spied Chance sitting against a tree. Changing course, she walked toward him,
wondering what his fate would be.

As she drew closer, she saw that his eyes were closed.
Thinking he was asleep, she turned away, only to do an about face when he
called her name.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“Just dozing a little.” He winced as he sat up straighter.
“Everything all right?”

“I guess so. I am to be a slave for an old woman. Her name
is Blackbird-in-the-Morning.”

Chance nodded. “I reckon you’ll be fine as long as you don’t
give her any excuse to beat you.”

“What will they do with you?”

He grunted softly. “Nothing good, I’m sure of that.”

Her eyes widened. “They won’t…” She bit down on her lip,
reluctant to put the thought into words.

“Kill me? I’m pretty sure that’s what they have in mind.”

“No! What can I do?”

“Nothing,” he said sharply.

“But…”

“Winter Rain, listen to me. If you interfere, you’ll just
make more trouble for yourself. Do you understand?”

She nodded. She understood, but she didn’t have to like it.
“I must go,” she said with regret. “Blackbird-in-the-Morning told me to gather
wood.”

“Take care of yourself.”

With a nod, she headed toward the timber line. She couldn’t
just sit idly by while they killed him. Tonight, after the village was asleep,
she would sneak out of Blackbird-in-the-Morning’s lodge and cut Wolf Shadow
loose. If she didn’t get caught, they could escape. Together. Smiling inwardly,
she began gathering wood for Blackbird-in-the-Morning. Tonight, she thought.
And then her optimism vanished.

What if he was dead by tonight?

Chapter Nine

Winter Rain’s first day as a slave passed quietly enough. After
she gathered wood for Blackbird-in-the-Morning’s fire, she straightened the old
woman’s lodge. A short time after that, the old woman’s son, Elk Moon, stopped
by to drop off a deer that he had killed. Like the Lakota, the Crow apparently
looked after their aged parents by providing them with meat. Along with the
meat, he had brought the heart, liver, kidney and pancreas bundled in the
paunch, which had first been turned inside out and cleaned.

Naturally, it was left to Winter Rain to butcher the
carcass. First, she cut off the front legs close to the ribs and set them
aside. The rear legs came next, and then she removed the
takoan
, or
great sinew, that ran over the backbone from the rump to the shoulder, which
was considered a delicacy to the Lakota. Setting the
takoan
aside, she
split the carcass along one side of the backbone and then cut each half in half
just below the rib cage, so that she had four large pieces. The neck and head
were the last to be removed. She hung one hindquarter of the meat from a pole
near the lodge. Tomorrow, she would prepare it for drying. If she was still
here.

She cut a chunk of meat into small pieces and dropped them
into Blackbird-in-the-Morning’s kettle for the evening meal. She added some
water, a few wild onions, and a pinch of sage. She lit a fire beneath the
kettle and when she was sure it was burning evenly, she wrapped the remainder
of the meat in a piece of hide, then went down to the river to wash her hands.

She saw a few of the Crow women at the river. Some were
filling water pots, others were washing clothes or bathing their children. The
women stared at her suspiciously, their expressions unfriendly and suspicious. The
children eyed her with curiosity. One little boy smiled shyly, then ducked
behind his mother and peeked at Winter Rain from behind his mother’s back.

Winter Rain grinned at him, then knelt on the bank to rinse
off her hands. She sat there for a time, watching the swirling water. Now and
then a fish swam by. She saw a turtle climb up on the far bank and disappear
into the cattails. Somewhere in the distance she heard the deep croak of a
bullfrog.

The other women left one by one. Winter Rain sat there a
little while longer, watching the sky turn to flame as the sun went down behind
the mountains.

By the time she made it back to Blackbird-in-the-Morning’s
lodge, it was full dark.

Blackbird-in-the-Morning was waiting for her outside the
lodge. With an impatient gesture, she handed Winter Rain two bowls. Winter Rain
filled one with stew and handed it to the old woman, who went back inside her
lodge to eat.

After filling a bowl for herself, Winter Rain sat down with
her back to the lodge. She could see Wolf Shadow across the way and she
wondered if anyone had given him anything to eat or drink. When she finished
eating, she filled the bowl again and carried it over to him.

Several men and women stared at her as she made her way
toward him, but no one tried to stop her.

“I brought you something to eat,” she said, kneeling down
beside him.

“Thanks.”

She dipped her spoon in the bowl and offered him a bite. “Does
your head still hurt?”

“A little.”

She offered him another bite and then another, noticing, as
she did so, that several warriors were adding wood to the fire burning near the
center of the village. Gradually, a crowd gathered around the fire.

When she offered Wolf Shadow another bite, he refused.

“You cannot be full already,” she said, frowning.

He shook his head, his gaze on the crackling flames.

“What is it?”

“I think the entertainment is about to start. And I’m it.”

She looked at him blankly for a moment and then, as
comprehension dawned, her eyes widened in horror.

Chance nodded. “Go on back to the old woman’s lodge and stay
inside until it’s over.”