Chapter Six

Darkness had fallen and crickets droned under a star-kissed sky by the time Cesca emerged from the tipi. Brown Wing's skewered rabbit and the need to clear her mind drew her to the camp fire.

She slumped to the ground near the orange and blue flames and watched the ordinary commotion of the People preparing their evening meal. Drawn to cheery laughter, Cesca's gaze veered left. Brown Wing's closest neighbors had struck up a cordial banter with a man and woman taking an evening stroll. Lovers, Cesca imagined by the dreamy look in their eyes. Although dissimilar in beliefs and customs, in many ways the Peoples' lives paralleled hers. If one discarded violence and brutality.

She looked to Brown Wing—her only friend in camp—hunkered down by the fire. A woman of few words, she exemplified kindness. Cesca's survival instincts had surfaced the moment Meko dropped her at Brown Wing's tipi. Her life depended on deciphering the woman's moods and body language.

From the onset, she noticed Brown Wing's face lit up like a beacon the moment Meko appeared. That rankled Cesca. She didn't want to think about the dark warrior as human, capable of bringing joy and love to another's world. Worse, Meko returned Brown Wing's affection, had demonstrated patience, even adoration, when interacting with the woman. How could the man show tenderness one instant and yank the hair from someone's scalp the next? Maybe Meko possessed two sides, good and evil, benevolent and sadistic.

Lost in thought about the mysterious man, Cesca jumped when Brown Wing let loose a screech and scrambled from the ground. The camp sprang to life with whistles and bellows. People sprinted toward the entrance of the village, their hands swaying above their heads. When the column of Dog Soldiers rode in, a throng of shrieking, copper faces greeted them, their boisterous shrieks and whistles overwhelming Cesca's emotions.

Rising up on her toes, Cesca looked beyond the sea of bodies and stared at the scalps dangling from the warriors' waistbands. Behind the ponies, a pair of captives struggled to stay on their feet. The ground beneath Cesca rose up to meet her. Visions of ghoulish faces painted in hideous colors swam before her. Prancing mounts, jigging beneath muscular bodies that promised a swift, brutal death rose and threatened to bring her to her knees.

She turned to Brown Wing with sickening dread. "What will happen to the captives?"

"Build big fire, burn them."

Cesca felt a you-can't-be-serious look freeze her own face but the old woman seemed oblivious to her existence. "They're human beings, like you, like me!" Above the din, Cesca stomped her foot to garner Brown Wing's attention. "I won't tolerate it, I tell you! I'm not going to sit by while they burn my own kind."

Brown Wing turned to her with a derisive snort. "You know what blue coats do to Cheyenne babies? Smash heads in with musket."

Cesca covered her ears. "Oh, God, so much senseless death!"

"You no watch, go in tipi."

"I'll tell you where I'm going!" Mutinous thoughts seized her. "I'm going―"

Meko appeared beside her like a silent shadow. "Inside the lodge, now."

He clasped her elbow and dragged her from the fire, his face harder than granite. Brown stains splattered his shirt, crimson streaks ringed his neck, and Cesca knew he had no intention of discussing other options now. Damnation, like a phantom he'd appeared, unheard, undetected.

"Let me go!" Her hands went for his face, her feet to any body part within striking distance. "You're the lowest animal in the universe, a ruthless barbarian, king of the heathens!"

Through a shield of hair tumbling about her face, she glanced toward the center of the village. The People had surrounded a large post, their eyes wide and feral. Shouts and hoots roared in her ears. Her knees buckled when a brave picked up a torch and another shoved the captives forward, binding their arms to the tall stake. Stacks of dry timber formed a perimeter between the white men and the onlookers, and moments later, giant flames rose skyward. Up . . . up . . . up the smoke spiraled amid agonized screams. Cesca fell to her knees and smothered her mouth with a hand.

Meko lifted her from the ground, carried her into the lodge, and set her on her feet. Her chest heaved with strangled sobs. Through a haze she stared into his eyes and the seconds ticked by. Her vision blurred from tears she couldn't hold back, yet no one in the world existed but Meko. She closed her mind against the jubilant cries of banshees, the tortured screams of men, and sagged against his chest, too overcome by emotion to stand on her own.

"Shush now, He'evo'nehe, little He'evo'nehe."

She had no idea what he'd said and no longer cared. He smelled of horse, pine needles and man. She wanted to melt into his body, steal his strength, and forget the madness and death.

Meko carried her to the sleeping berth and eased her down. Stretching out beside her, he pulled her shivering body against his and stroked the hair near her temple.

His warm breath whispered into her ear. "Go to sleep, little she-wolf. You are safe."

* * *

In the morning, Cesca rubbed the sleep from her eyes and scanned the lodge. Meko was nowhere in sight. Had he really slept beside her all night or had she imagined it? Had she only dreamed about the blissful warmth and the comforting arms that held her nightmares at bay?

When she walked outside, Brown Wing looked up from the boiling pot. "Little He'evo'nehe all cried out now?"

Cesca dropped to the ground without answering.

"I tell you Meko kind man." Smacking her lips, she stirred the soup with a stick. "He'evo'nehe believe Brown Wing now."

"What did you call me?"

"He'evo'nehe―she-wolf. Is new name he give you."

Hoping for a glimpse of him, her eyes searched the village. "Where is he now?"

"Meko no come back for this many days." She held up three fingers. "Make more war on soldiers. Brown Wing think he make war on feelings for white woman."

"Gone?" she wailed. "He can't be gone. I must speak to him about something very important."

"Nothing matter now but future of Cheyenne."

"Oh, but it does. What about my brother?"

"He safe. Choking Wolf with dog men."

She'd never felt so forlorn. Meko would be gone for three days, maybe forever if he died while raiding against the settlers. Panic gripped her at the thought, yet last night she'd prayed for his death.

A sigh left her lips. She'd have to take matters into her own hands. By late afternoon, her plan solidified, her courage bolstered, she knew she couldn't sway from her scheme. The torment of her brother's predicament gnawed at her until she thought of nothing else. She had only to convince Marsh.

And pray she'd be granted a quick death.

* * *

The following morning, Cesca woke early, stepped outside, and greeted the dawn with renewed hope. The dogs prowled camp in search of discarded bones or morsels of meat. Another blistering day awaited her if the bright, orange sphere in the cloudless sky had anything to say about it. Too nervous to even think of food this morning, Cesca would have to plead loss of appetite.

Brown Wing's routine ran through her mind. After the morning meal, the old woman would traipse into the nearby woods, gather branches and limbs and return for a short rest. Late in the afternoon, she'd head into the forest again on a hunt for berries and wild fruit. Cesca decided she'd seek out Marsh late in the day.

With that in mind, she feigned a casual tone. "I thought I'd help you gather firewood this morning."

The old woman's head came up. "What matter, little girl sick?"

Her smile belied her internal panic. "It's such a beautiful day. I thought you could use my help."

Cesca all but heard the wheels turning in Brown Wing's head while waiting for her response. The woman might be ancient, but her faculties were sharper than barbed wire. "After eat, we go."

Clusters of bluebells kept company with the bunch grass surrounding the woods, and to their left, a wild turkey strutted about looking for a meal.

Brown Wing notched an arrow and felled the massive bird.

Cesca clapped and danced a little jig. "You got him!"

"I once good hunter." She crooked an arthritic finger toward her eyes. "Not see so good now." She handed Cesca a leather thong. "Tie bird's legs together, drag behind you."

"Why?"

"I no want to share food with wolf."

With Brown Wing carrying the twisted limbs and branches, they wandered back to camp, Cesca dragging the gobbler behind her. Outside the tipi, Brown Wing plucked the feathers from the bird and chopped it into quarters, saving the best parts in a separate bowl. Off came the bird's head and Cesca's stomach churned. The decapitation of the turkey didn't bother her, but the thought her head would be on the chopping block next did.

Brown Wing continued her mutilation of the bird while talking. "I tell you story now."

Folding her arms across her chest, Cesca smiled. "About an Indian princess?"

"No, is story of Hota'mitä'niu, Dog Soldier."

A scowl creased her forehead. "I don't want to hear about blood and killing."

"Not about blood. About how Dog Soldier come to be."

Cesca resigned herself to hearing the tale, willing or not. "Very well."

"Long time ago, People have many enemies, Kiowa, Ojibwa, even Sioux. People driven from land by Sioux and Kiowa. Come to live here, on prairie. Next white man come, take land, drive off buffalo, kill babies and women."

"Killed the babies?"

"Like this." Brown Wing brought the hatchet down on the turkey's carcass.

Cesca flinched. "You said no blood!"

The old woman waved off her scowl. "Great Spirit Maheo cry many tears. He say, 'How Cheyenne fight back?' Big idea come to him. He send Dog Soldiers who no afraid of death. He give them great courage, strength, power to fight pale face."

Gripped by morbid fascination, Cesca leaned forward. "What happened then?"

"I tell you truth. For every dog man killed, a hundred white-eye die."

Prickles rose on her arm. "But how?"

An impish grin stretched the old woman's lips, reminding Cesca of a contented cat. "Give them sacred rope."

The image of a sash rose. She saw them draped across the saddles the day they stormed the house and again when the Dog Soldiers brought the white captives into camp. "Made of porcupine quills and eagle feathers?"

Brown Wing nodded. "Dog rope worn only by best fighters, bravest warriors. In battle rope pinned to earth by long stake."

Curiosity and fascination compelled her onward. "Why do they stake themselves to the earth?"

"No retreat. Dog Soldier fight to death to save People."

"Once they stake themselves to the ground, they die?"

"Die unless win fight or other Dog Soldier whip them from spot."

"Another dog soldier can free them?" Cesca eyed Brown Wing with disbelief. "He can pull up the stake and force him to flee?"

"Yes, is way of Dog Soldier. In battle, fight in line of eight, leader and seven more. Wear rope and two wear leggings with hair of enemy, like Strikes First and Meko. Is what your kind call…" The old woman fumbled for the words. "What word for death journey?"

Cesca gasped. "You mean martyr?"

Brown Wing shrugged.

"Oh, Lucifer!" Cesca closed her eyes and saw Meko's face, silver eyes, smooth, bronze skin and full, sensuous lips. He can't be a martyr, willing to surrender his life so easily. God, the madness.

"Dog Soldier most sacred Cheyenne among People, make all choices for tribe."

"This thing they do is evil and barbaric."

"Every man have evil spirit, here." Brown Wing tapped a hand against her breast. "Cheyenne think human have four spirits, two good, two evil. Spirits come and go from body through life. If all four leave, person die."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard—four spirits indeed!"

"He'evo'nehe think with head, not heart." The old woman picked up a forked branch lying on the ground. "Look at stick. If one half split from other, branch become crippled, die. Twin of soul. One good, one evil. Fight over what way to blow in wind. Must stay together, get along, but battle sometimes."

Cesca lifted a shoulder and blew air out her lips. "It's just a stick."

"All living things, even arm of tree sacred. Great Spirit make forked branch for reason, like man's spirit. Good and bad." Brown Wing wiggled a bushy brow. "Little He'eve'nehe no battle lie and truth, right and wrong, love or hate?"

Heat rose in her cheeks. "I—I suppose I do."

"Truth in heart, head no want to see it," said Brown Wing with a firm nod. "Two spirits." She lifted her ancient bones from the ground. "I sleep now. Gather berries for Meko when sun fall from sky."

Cesca called out to her. "Wait!"

Brown Wing turned to face her.

"Is Meko your son?"

"He no blood." The old woman's eyes gleamed with adulation. "He take care of Brown Wing after man die."

"You love him?"

"Brown Wing give her life for Meko; do all he ask and more."

Aware of her conflicting heart, Cesca asked, "Where's his family?"

"Adopted by Cheyenne when little boy."

"But where did he come from?"

"Came from wind. Warriors find him wandering prairie. Bring him in, I care for him."

"And named him I Am The Wind?"

With a nod, the old woman ambled toward the tipi.

Cesca sat by the fire for the better part of an hour, lost in thought about the Dog Soldiers. Images of Meko staked to the ground while the enemy stormed the prairie caused her to shudder. Utter lunacy. Any hour, any day, he could be killed. He courted death, breathed it, slept with it, yet embraced frequent laughter. When his bewitching smile loomed, she pushed it from her mind.

The reckless folly of the Dog Soldiers couldn't occupy her thoughts now. Her biggest dilemma was Marsh and how to free him. If they chose to sacrifice their lives, let them. She'd get her brother far away from this death camp, the sooner the better. She rose from the ground and poked her head inside the lodge. Light snores from the old woman's bed reached her ears.

Cesca headed for Starlight tethered near the lodge. The mare blew air through her muzzle and pawed at the ground when she approached. Burying her head in the mane, she inhaled the heady scent of pure horseflesh. Her hands shook as she rode toward Choking Wolf's lodge. The man's pony wasn't outside his tipi, and Brown Wing had said the Dog Soldiers left to make war on the enemy. Emboldened by Choking Wolf's absence, Cesca opened the flap of the lodge and ducked inside.

Marsh sat up in the cot, rubbed his eyes, and jumped to his feet. "Cesca, you shouldn't have come!"

"I had to, Marsh." Looking at his sweet, innocent face, tears sprang to her eyes. Crusted over with dried blood, a fresh gash appeared above his eyebrow. "I must get you away from here, from him."

"Don't even think it, Cesca." He rushed toward her, pushing her back toward the opening. "I can't escape. Even if I did, Choking Wolf will find me, kill me. You too," he added.

She placed her arms on his shoulders. "I have a horse and the Dog Soldiers will be gone for two more days."

Bewilderment crossed his features. "A horse? How did you come by one?"

"Meko gave her to me, a mare named Starlight."

"Cesca, stop, you must not think about escaping."

A vision of Meko's eyes flashing fire and his lips curled with rage made her shiver. "I'm not going with you. I gave my word, but you didn't, Marsh." She brushed her fingers over the wound above his brow. "You'll take Starlight tonight as soon as darkness falls and follow the North Star along the river. You'll come to Denver City late tomorrow if you ride all night."

"And leave you here? I can't, I won't."

She drew him into her arms, her tears flowing freely now. "One of us must live, escape this madness." Pulling back, she looked into his eyes. "They won't kill a woman." She really didn't know what they'd do to her when they found out. She'd seen Meko's wrath and cringed with remembrance.

Pushing his dark face from her mind, she looked into Marsh's eyes. "We have one chance. If you stay here, you'll die. Choking Wolf will kill you one day."

Marsh's words came fast and hard. "His hatred for the white man seeps through his pores."

"That settles it," she said low-voiced. "I'll come again after dark with Starlight, food, and water. You must flee, Marsh. Don't look back. Keep riding until you reach the settlement."

Wringing his hands, he paced the tipi. "Do you think it will work?"

"Yes, I know it will." Her chin jutted out. "I'll see you again, my brother. I can withstand any punishment because one day we'll be together again free to live as we choose."

She saw the fear in his eyes when he nodded.

"I must go now before Brown Wing awakens. I'll throw a stone against the wall of your lodge and wait for you to come out. Promise me, Marsh, you'll flee from this hell."

He stopped pacing and drew her into his arms. "Tonight, my brave Cesca."

* * *

An eerie quiet spanked the dark when she ventured from Brown Wing's lodge that evening. The camp dogs languished in a lethargic state of slumber or perhaps they'd grown used to her presence. Goose flesh pricked her forearms when an owl shrieked from a nearby branch. She'd tossed an old blanket across Starlight's back, and a par fleche of food hung from her shoulder—chunks of turkey, corn pones and an apple—items she'd pilfered from Brown Wing. Stealing a small bladder pouch of water had proved difficult, but she'd scrounged through the lodge and found a discarded one beneath a pile of animal pelts.

She tossed a stone against the lodge and moments later Marsh appeared, his light-brown hair shining like dusty nuggets beneath the pale moonlight.

"There," Cesca pointed. "The North Star. Keep it in sight at all times. Tomorrow when the sun rises in the east, you'll know which way is north. Don't stop, no matter what. Keep to the underbrush, but if you must ride in the open, travel fast. Starlight is swift of foot, will not fail you."

They embraced, their tears mingling cheek against cheek. "Promise me, Cesca, you'll leave this place the first chance you get."

She nodded, knowing in her heart the day would never come. She'd given her word. "Go now, and may the Virgin Mary go with you."

Marsh hoisted himself up onto the mare's back, the par fleche tucked under his arm, the bladder pouch dangling from his shoulder. She watched until he faded into the darkness, until she no longer heard Starlight's hooves tread over the earth. Crossing herself, she walked back to Brown Wing's lodge jubilant over her success, terrified of her punishment.

* * *

Brown Wing nudged her awake in the middle of the night. Mournful wails echoed in the still air and bounced off the trees outside.

Cesca bolted upright. "What has happened?"

"Dog Solider die. Much grieving."

"How do you know?"

"Wave robe in air, mean brave die."

Cesca scrambled from bed, her heart pounding. Please, God, please don't let it be him. The thought of his eyes closing forever pitched her into a tunnel of darkness.

Brown Wing hobbled out the tipi and returned moments later. Her face bore a mixture of joy and sorrow. "Ermine Boy killed by blue coats."

Cesca dropped to her knees on the hard ground, her relief so immense, she'd all but forgotten about Marsh and her duplicity. "Will they bury him now?" She didn't know why she prayed for time. They were bound to find out soon.

"No body to bury. He left on prairie. Is way of Cheyenne if warrior die."

"Left on the prairie for the animals?"

"Die as Dog Soldier, want to return to land. No want to be stuck in tree."

Cesca shuddered and folded her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking.

Brown Wing eyed her suspiciously. "Where is black mare?"

She lifted a defiant chin. "Gone."

Brown Wing's hands flew to her ears and she broke into a string of unfamiliar Cheyenne words, their meaning clear. "You give word to Meko!" She advanced until their faces almost touched. "You give horse to Mountain Lion?"

Cesca nodded.

"Meko wear face of fury now." The old woman's eyes widened. "I no want to be here when he come."

"Leave then. I'll face him alone. I gave my word I wouldn't escape. I didn't give my word I wouldn't save my brother."

Wringing her hands, the old woman wailed. "Big council meeting now. Choking Wolf demand captive for captive."

Cesca swallowed hard. "What does that mean?"

"Dog Soldier ask for new slave to replace one you help escape. That slave be you." Limping like a crippled animal, Brown Wing paced the tipi.

Tremors of fear shook Cesca. Facing Meko paled next to living with Choking Wolf.

* * *

Cesca hid inside the tipi the following day, long, tortuous hours awaiting her fate. She had no idea if Meko knew about Marsh or whether he'd stayed away while grieving for Ermine Boy. High-pitched wails echoed through the village, a cacophony of unrestrained mourning. Why didn't he come for her, beat her to a pulp, mete out her punishment? Anything would be preferable to waiting.

Brown Wing entered the tipi late in the afternoon. The mark of death—charcoal stripes—streaked her cheeks. "Meko come tonight." She shook her head. "In medicine lodge now for wound."

"Wound?" Cesca searched her eyes. "What wound?"

"Shot by soldier in arm."

"Oh, dear God!" She gasped and clutched her throat. "How bad?"

"Not so bad as dead soldier that shot him."

Cesca whispered the words. "Does he know—know about my brother?"

"He know." The old woman followed up her answer with a shriek. "How you say trouble in heart?"

"Disappointed?" she managed to ask.

Brown Wing nodded.

"He didn't scream his anger?"

Her voice cracked with worry. "Is not his way."

"What will he do to me?"

Brown Wing clucked her cheek and looked away. "Old woman no know." A pause and then the words that sank Cesca's heart. "Choking Wolf call council fire. You brought before Dog Soldiers."

"What do you mean?" She struggled to calm her rising panic.

"What will happen to me?"

"Council decide."

She closed her eyes, the colors flashing behind them blood red, and black.

"Go very bad for little He'evo'nehe now."

"Will they kill me?"

"If go with Choking Wolf he kill you one day."

"Who decides if I go with Choking Wolf?" Heart-sinking beats knocked around her chest. She didn't want to hear the answer but knew she must.

"Meko decide. Good you married with him."

"What difference does it make?"

"Harder for man to demand wife than daughter, niece or captive."

Her mind raced out of control. "What if he decides not to send me away?"

"Choking Wolf name punishment."

Cesca drew a deep breath and several more while trying to dispel images of the white captives they'd burned at the stake. From deep within, she called forth her grit. She knew the consequences would be severe, but Marsh's freedom had outweighed whatever they might do to her. Let the heathens mete out their savage punishment. She owed them nothing, not her word, her honor, not one tiny smidgen of consideration. They'd stolen everything she held dear, burned down her home, killed her father, and beaten her brother. Now, they'd kill her.

She lifted her head and cursed God. He'd deserted her too. Her enemy couldn't take her pride and dignity. She'd show the fearsome Dog Soldiers they didn't hold a patent on bravery. They weren't the only ones who considered death a short journey to another plane, the transfer of one's spirit to another realm. No matter what happened, she wouldn't cower, wouldn't show fear.

She glanced at Brown Wing. Sitting before the fire smoking a long, flat pipe, the woman drew the gray haze toward her body. "What are you doing?"

"Old woman call on Maheo and I Am The Wind power."

"Meko's power? What can it do for me?"

"Air is start of life, all breath come from wind. Death come when wind take air back."

She knew little about their mysterious beliefs, but was willing to accept any divine intervention tossed her way at this point.