Sioux Slave (16 page)

Rand suddenly realized what those scars on One Eye's bronzed chest were. He imagined himself hanging from rawhide strips strung through his chest muscles to prove his bravery as One Eye had done sometime in the past. Once Rand would have thought that ceremony savage and ridiculous; now it occurred to him that the scars denoted a very brave man with status in the tribe. For a long moment, he imagined himself striding into the camp circle with sun dance scars visible on his brawny chest. Even old Wagnuka would be impressed and Kimi would be proud to belong to such a warrior.

Rand blinked in disbelief. Was he losing his mind? Of course he couldn't go through such a barbaric ceremony. What would his parents say when he returned? Worse yet, what would the very civilized Lenore say when they were married and she saw the scars? Somehow she didn't seem as pretty or as desirable any more. In fact, she would look silly and ridiculous with her elaborate clothes and mincing walk out here. On the other hand, how would Kimi fit in back in a white civilization? Rand didn't want to think about that. For the time being, the little white savage was his to enjoy. He would live for the moment and not face the future until he was actually on his way back South.

He and One Eye joined Gopher and his son on a low rise overlooking the great herd. Rand had never seen anything so impressive as the sight of that moving brown ocean of fur. The beasts grazed or rolled in the dust. Here and there a pair of bulls fought, churning up big swirls of dust with their pawing feet.

The stink of the giant herd of beasts, the sound of their hooves as they drifted and grazed almost overwhelmed his senses. Here and there a lost calf bawled for its dam.

One Eye said softly, “Your horse has been in these hunts before, Hinzi, so he will know what to do. Just be careful about riding too close. If you get surrounded and your horse should stumble, you'll never have a chance. The only way we'll recognize what's left of you is the yellow hair.”

“I'll remember.” Rand wiped the sweat from his forehead, touched his beaded headband, looked down at himself, and realized he was all but naked. Mother and sister Vanessa would be shocked. Lenore would probably faint if she could see him out like this. It seemed as if he had been away from white civilization a long, long time. Did he miss it? He wasn't sure.

The morning had turned hot. Summer was coming on, Rand realized, thinking calendars and clocks were becoming less and less important to him. He was beginning to think like the Indians already.

Yes, he would rely on the experience of his horse. Rand wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, but Scout seemed to sense the excitement. It was difficult to keep the spirited horse in check while he waited. Some of the braves were creeping closer and closer, picking off an animal here and there.

Rand looked over his shoulder, searching for Kimi's face in the distance. He saw her now with the other women, awaiting the time to come out on the field and cut up the meat. She gave him a nod of recognition. His woman. He would make her proud of him, bring in more meat than she or the old lady could dry for their needs. There would be plenty left over for the elderly and sick who could not hunt. For the first time in a long time, Rand felt that his life counted for something.

Abruptly the wind shifted and the big brown beasts seemed to scent the men for the first time. They began to bellow and move uneasily, some of the bulls pawing the ground in challenge. Most of them seemed oblivious to the dead animals lying on the ground around them–until they smelled the blood.

With snorts and bellowing, the herd began to move; slowly at first, a softly undulating wave of brown fur as far as the eye could see.

Now the braves urged their swift ponies forward, racing along both sides of the dark river of beasts, shooting arrows faster than most whites could handle a rifle.

His heart pounding hard with danger and excitement, Rand galloped along beside the herd. Dust swirled in choking clouds and clung to his sweating, naked skin. Pounding hooves vibrated the prairie under his running pony until the sound seemed to boom like thunder.

He looked around for One Eye and saw him far ahead, thrusting a lance into a big bull that stumbled and went down. Here and there, barely visible in the swirling dust, Rand could make out yelping warriors riding along the edges of the herd, firing arrows as rapidly as mighty arms could pull a bow. Rand brought his old rifle up, aimed, fired. A fat cow went down. Reloading as he galloped along, he brought down another prime buffalo.

Without even realizing he did so, Rand threw back his head and yelled to the heavens, glorying in the thrill of the hunt and just being alive. Around him, gunshots echoed and bowstrings sang as warriors picked their animals.

Ahead of him suddenly, he saw Gopher's young son, riding a little too close to the herd, determined to make his own kill. Rand started to shout a warning, but just then the boy pulled his bow and a half-grown, prime animal took the shaft deep in the shoulder, stumbled and crashed down. Too late, the youth seemed to realize he had ridden too close to the herd that now parted to surround him.

In a heartbeat, Rand took in the scene, the boy's tense, brown face as his pony galloped, swept along by the crazed buffalo. For only an instant, Rand hesitated, knowing the dangers that he faced if he made any attempt to ride closer himself. As aristocrat Randolph Erikson, his first priority had always been himself. However even as he hesitated, he saw the boy's frightened face, saw he was prepared to die bravely under the thundering hooves if he couldn't maneuver his paint pony to the edge of the stampede.

Lenore would think him three kinds of a fool, Rand thought, urging Scout closer. Even his horse seemed to question Rand's judgement. The big buckskin stallion seemed to hesitate an instant as Rand urged him forward, pressing into the tightly knit pack of brown, furry bodies.

He heard a shout, saw the boy's father trying to move closer to save his son, but he was too far away to help, and his horrified expression revealed that he, too, realized that.

Instinctively, Rand pushed closer. Around him, big brown bodies pressed and jostled as the beasts ran. Scout threw his head up, struggling to keep his balance. Just ahead of them, the small boy's pony was tiring, that was plain to see. Despite the boy's skill, he couldn't seem to work his way to the outside of the deadly torrent of brown bodies. Rand didn't want to think about what he was doing or why or what would happen if his horse stepped in a hole. He had to clear a path for the boy's horse.

But even as Rand reached the boy's side, the paint pony stumbled and went down. Could Scout do it? He'd have to or they were all going to die. Even as the boy fell, Rand reached for him. His arm seemed to be almost pulled from its socket, but he had the boy in his grasp. Rand felt determined not to turn loose even if he were pulled off balance and they both perished. No matter what color his skin, this was a child and any man worthy of the name must try to save him.

Sweat seemed to bead on Rand's forehead as he lifted the boy clear of the falling pony. For a heartbeat, he was not sure he was strong enough. It seemed Rand would lose him to the pounding hooves or be pulled off balance and they would both die.

Without even realizing he did so, Rand breathed a prayer to Wakan Tanka and put almost superhuman strength into his effort. He had him! The grateful look on the boy's face as he clung to Rand was reward enough. His arm still ached as he pulled the child up onto his horse and now Scout was fighting to reach the outside of the thundering herd. Rand hung onto the trembling boy and didn't look back. If he saw what the stampede had done to the boy's pony, he was afraid his nerve would give out, and Rand didn't intend to die here. More than that, he didn't intend to let the boy die.

Valiantly, the stallion struggled toward the outside of the running herd, lathered and blowing, fighting to stay on his feet as the great beasts bellowed and pushed in around him. Out of the corner of his eye, Rand saw One Eye and Gopher helping clear a path for him, shouting and firing at the buffalo.

Abruptly Scout was clear of the herd, and it thundered on past while the horse stumbled to a halt, lathered and blowing.

Rand's arm was aching as it had never ached before. Very slowly, he set the boy safely on the ground even as One Eye and Gopher galloped up, full of praise for Rand's bravery.

As befitted any great warrior, he accepted the thanks modestly, knowing that Kimi must be watching from the rise.

The buffalo herd galloped over the horizon, but there were many fat beasts lying dead on the prairie.

One Eye looked at Rand. “Hinzi, are you all right?”

Rand nodded, too shaken to speak.

“That was a very brave thing you did.”

The stout Gopher said gravely. “My family is forever in your debt.”

Rand shrugged and dismounted, reached for his skinning knife. “It was nothing any man wouldn't have done.”

“Lakota warrior, yes.” One Eye grinned, dismounting. “I didn't think a white soldier could be so brave.”

“I am not a white soldier,” Rand reminded him, and he swaggered a little as they strode toward the fallen buffalo, “I am Hinzi, Yellow Hair.” He knelt and began to skin the fat cow he had killed.

“Then here, white warrior.” One Eye cut into the carcass, handed Rand a piece of warm, raw liver. “This is a treat we all savor.”

Rand hesitated only an instant, and then he took a big bite, was surprised to find he liked it. Maybe he was no longer Rand Erikson, the civilized Southerner. He looked at the blood on his hand, the raw meat in his fist. Maybe he really was becoming a primitive savage. Kimi came up about them with her travois and the proud look on her face made it all worthwhile.

 

 

Later that night there was great feasting in the camp. Big fires were built and meat roasted. Rand washed in the creek and put on the fine buckskin and beadwork the grateful boy's family had given him. He ate more meat than he had ever eaten in his life. Kimi, busy with women's chores kept sneaking glances at him, smiling, promising with her eyes. Rand watched her, more than aware what her emerald glance promised later tonight after the camp was quiet. But for now, it was pleasant to sit in the camp circle, listening to the drums, watching the dancing. He ducked his head modestly as Gopher told of the white warrior's brave deed and promised that they would always be friends.

The child's mother said, “What is the white warrior's name?”

“Randolph,” Rand said, “it means protected and advised by the wolf.”

A murmur of approval with much head nodding went around the camp circle. “It is a good name,” the boy's old grandfather said. “In your honor, we are giving our boy a new name, a man's name to wear the rest of his life.”

Everyone waited quietly as he paused for emphasis and the boy smiled proudly. “Henceforth, he shall be called ‘Saved By The Wolf.' ”

Rand nodded, equally stoic. “That is a good name. I am much honored. I think Wakan Tanka had me there for a reason. I think someday Saved By The Wolf will do some great, brave deed that will bring honor to his family.”

One Eye, sitting next to him, leaned close. “Well spoken,” he whispered. “You are beginning to think like the Teton Sioux.”

Rand could not remember when he had felt such contentment, such a feeling of being in charge of his own destiny, his life reduced to the most basic of needs and wants. He suddenly felt like Adam in a primitive Eden.

Rand should have known there was always a snake or maybe more than one ready to invade Eden. Late in the evening, there was a sudden hush as three men leading pack horses rode into the camp; white men. And they were accompanied by an Indian girl.

Rand's first thought was he and Kimi should hide before they were seen. Too late he saw the bearded traders looking at Kimi with hungry eyes. The rough men had seen his delicate butterfly and lusted for her. He didn't intend to give her up without a fight. She belonged to him and he shared his woman with no man.

Kimi felt apprehension run up her spine and half rose from her place next to Hinzi. Always before, she had hidden when traders came into the camp. However, she realized it was already too late. The sudden widening of their eyes warned her they had seen her. She sat back down, moving a little closer to the big blond man as the three dismounted, left their horses and pack mules in charge of the Indian girl, and walked to the fire.

All three of them were dirty, clad in stained buckskin. Only one, the tall one who looked almost as big as Hinzi, was even slightly handsome. The one with the dirty, tangled beard held his hand up to show it was empty of weapons, spoke to the chiefs in a mixture of Lakota and English. “Hau! It has been long since I was here to trade.”

The old chiefs nodded. “You have brought many things?”

“Yes. Buck and his friends, Lucky and Tech, have brought many things to trade for good furs and buffalo robes.”

One of the warriors looked at him with greedy eyes. “You bring whiskey?”

Buck ran his fingers through his beard, nodded. “Anything you want, I have, including a pretty Pawnee captive that Lucky owns.” He nodded toward the tall trader.

Kimi looked at the girl holding the horses. Pawnee. That tribe was a legendary enemy of all the Sioux because they often scouted for the white soldiers. She glared at the girl when she realized suddenly that the Pawnee was smiling archly at Hinzi. Uneasily Kimi saw that Hinzi was returning the girl's curious gaze.

The old chiefs gestured the three traders to a spot near the fire where they sat down cross-legged and looked around. Buck took a deep breath. “We ain't et since this morning. My belly thinks my throat's been cut. Do I smell fresh meat?”

One Eye gestured to Kimi and several of the other younger women. “We made a big kill today. Our women will bring you some.”

Kimi assisted in serving the three. The tall one reached out and caught her arm. “This here one a breed? Tech, I don't remember seein' this here green-eyed gal before.”

His friend guffawed and wiped his greasy face on his dirty sleeve. He had bad smallpox scars on his long face. “Shucks, Lucky, we'll trade her man something for usin' her later.”

A sudden silence fell over the circle. Kimi tried to pull away from the man's hand, but he held her fast.

“Get your hands off her. That is my woman.” Hinzi's voice boomed across the firelit circle. There was no mistaking the threat in his voice.

The trader hesitated. “A white man? What's a white man doin' ridin' with the Sioux?”

Kimi waited, seeing the cold blue fire in Hinzi's eyes. “I am Hinzi,” he said in Lakota, “a warrior of these people. Now get your hand off my woman before I cut it off!”

“No problem.” Immediately Lucky let go of Kimi, smiling in a fawning way. “I meant no harm.”

Buck ran his fingers through his beard. “Lucky's just got an eye for women, can't leave 'em alone. We come to trade, that's all. Some camps offer hospitality by giving a guest a pretty girl to warm his bed while he's there; maybe he thought–”

“No.” Hinzi gestured Kimi to return to her place beside him. He put his hand on the big knife in his waistband. “Don't even think about it.”

Buck and the other two rushed to explain to the stony-faced circle that they had meant no offense. With a sigh of relief, Kimi sank back down next to Hinzi, feeling very safe and protected. She looked over at her mother and saw the frown and uncertainty on old Wagnuka's wrinkled face. She must be worried about what might happen now that the three traders had seen her daughter.

Hinzi reached out and put his hand on Kimi's knee in a possessive movement. She saw the three dirty white men looking her over curiously, and she watched their questioning gazes go to Hinzi.

They gestured to the Pawnee girl, who brought whiskey bottles to set before Lucky. She swayed her hips and took a deep breath so that her firm breasts jutted out as she passed Hinzi. There was no mistaking that inviting smile on her lips as she looked the big blond man up and down. In fact, the Pawnee girl looked a little drunk herself. The handsome trader began to share the whiskey around while a murmur ran through the warriors at the enemy's girl's ripe body.

Lucky took out a cigar. “Any man here have a hankerin' for a woman? For a little tradin', the Pawnee chit will take on any man who wants her for a few minutes. In fact, she's for sale if a man wants to pay enough. Show them yourself, Sugar,” he ordered.

The Pawnee girl sat down near the fire not far from Kimi. She hesitated, sighed. Then she hiked her buckskin dress so that slim, brown legs showed. Looking around the circle, she smiled at all the men, but her eyes kept coming back to Hinzi. She leaned on one elbow so that the front of her shift showed a generous expanse of perfect big breasts.

Kimi felt a twinge of jealousy as she glanced up and saw Hinzi looking the Pawnee girl over. He asked, “What do you want for her?”

Lucky grinned. “I don't know; make me an offer. I'm ready to trade her off. In the meantime, you're welcome to try her out. Wouldn't expect a man to buy a mare he ain't rode and got the feel of.”

The girl was sitting close to Kimi. As the men returned to their eating, whiskey drinking and talking, Kimi whispered to her through clenched teeth. “And which of these dirty white dogs is your man?”

The girl hesitated, looking a bit chagrined. “I ran away with Lucky, but he makes me service all of them.”

Kimi was incredulous. “All three of them?”

The Pawnee bristled a little. “I have no choice. They take turns with me and I am also used by any man who has the price.”

Kimi might have almost felt sorry for her if she hadn't been a Pawnee and if she hadn't been looking at Hinzi as if she would like to spread her thighs for him.

In the next several hours, the women did a little trading for beads and small mirrors, iron kettles and trinkets. Then gradually the women and children drifted away as the warriors and the traders continued to swap, drink, and share gossip. Even Wagnuka finally went to her tipi. Kimi was almost afraid to leave, afraid that, the way the Pawnee girl kept issuing invitations with her dark eyes, Hinzi might decide he wanted her.

Hinzi seemed to notice Kimi's jealous looks. “Go to bed, woman,” he drawled. “I would stay and trade with these white men.”

“Be careful what you trade for,” Kimi said jealously.

“I know what I'm doing,” he snapped. “I have already bought you a few pretty beads, that is all that concerns you. A warrior will not be told what to do by his woman.”

Kimi left the camp fire in a huff. She pretended to go to her tipi, but instead, she circled back around where she could watch what went on in the circle without anyone realizing she hid in the shadows. Nervously she fingered her spirit charm and watched. There was some drinking, although Hinzi didn't seem to be drinking much. He kept staring at the pretty Pawnee girl who looked back at him with frank interest.

The trading continued. Kimi watched one of the young, unmarried warriors gesture toward the Pawnee girl. “How much?” he asked in pidgin English.

“You want buy her?” Lucky grinned.

The young man shook his head. “No, I only want to mount her a few minutes like the white men at the fort do a woman.”

He made a deal, caught the girl's arm, and pulled her to her feet. She hesitated only a moment before she led him to a blanket spread out under the trees near the pack mules. As Kimi watched from her hiding place, the Pawnee girl stripped off her buckskin shift, standing in the moonlight so that all present could get a good look at her ripe body. She smiled at Hinzi again, taking a deep breath so that her perfect breasts moved.

The Sioux warrior who had paid to use her looked a little drunk, too. Kimi did not know him very well. She watched as he grabbed the Pawnee girl by the arm. Now that the young warrior had made the first offer, others began to bargain to use the girl.

“Wait!” Hinzi said.

Kimi, from her hiding place, glanced at Hinzi. It was the expression on his face that bothered her. Obviously he didn't like the image of all those warriors gathered around the girl. He frowned at the trader. “I will give two good ponies for the girl.”

Lucky ran his hand through his hair, grinned. “Tell you what I'll do; why don't I give
you
five ponies and trade her for your woman?”

Hinzi bristled. “No. My woman is not to be traded, but I will buy the Pawnee captive.”

Kimi felt heartsick and jealous as she listened. Many warriors had two wives. Most often they were sisters. But if Hinzi thought Kimi would share her man with an enemy slut, he was going to be very mistaken. She wished the traders had never come.

There was a long silence with only the sound of the crackling fire.

The warrior holding onto the Pawnee girl paused, listening to the bargaining. Hinzi looked over toward the girl. “I will give three ponies,” he said.

Kimi took a deep, angry breath. He was offering too much for the pretty Pawnee. He must want her badly. Kimi was both hurt and furious.

Lucky spat into the fire. “Five and we close the deal.”

There was a sharp intake of breath among the men. Five for an enemy girl? The Yellow Hair must desire her greatly. Kimi counted up in her mind. Not counting Scout, Hinzi had no horses left as his share of the raid after he had given her mother her gift.

Even the Pawnee girl had pushed the waiting warrior away, sat up on the blanket, looking appealingly at the soldier. “If the yellow hair buys me,” she said in broken English, “I will do things to please him that no woman has ever done.”

Lucky laughed and lit a cigar. “Damn me if she don't speak truth! Brown Sugar is a skilled whore; the three of us have used her for many months now. Think of her as an investment; if you invest five ponies, her ripe body will earn that much back in a few weeks and you'll have her warmin' your own robes 'tween times.”

Some of the warriors smiled. They had lost too many good men at the hands of Pawnee braves to feel any sympathy for the girl. Hinzi did not laugh. Even as Kimi watched, he looked with mute appeal at One Eye.

One Eye shrugged and sighed. “What you want with this one when you have Kimi, I do not know, but I will give you the ponies from my share, friend.”

“Done, then!” Hinzi leaped up, strode to the blanket. The girl wrapped her arms around his thighs, murmuring her thanks while she pressed her naked breasts against his legs.

Kimi could bear to watch no more. Tears blinding her, she turned and fled to her mother's tipi. Old Wagnuka sat up with a start. “Daughter? What are you doing here? Why aren't you with your man?”

She sat down on a buffalo robe, angry tears running down her face. “You were right about the white man,” she gulped. “Already he has taken a liking to that Pawnee whore who came with those traders and has bought her!”

Her mother sighed. “Some men take more than one wife, although it is usually a sister. How can you deal with sharing with an enemy?”

What was she to do? She couldn't bear to lie in that tipi tonight, pretending to be asleep while Hinzi enjoyed his new prize only a few feet away. “I don't know. It is insulting to have him take an enemy whore as a second wife.”

Wagnuka didn't say anything for a long minute. “He has turned out to be a good hunter and is already gaining respect in the camp. For the first time, there is more than enough meat in my lodge. He is a very virile man; perhaps he needs two women to satisfy him.”

Kimi chewed her lip in anguish. She had thought their lovemaking was good. Had she not been enough for him?

She heard the step of a big man outside. “Kimi? Are you in there?”

Kimi hesitated, looking at her mother, “What am I to do?”

“Daughter, that is for you to decide. I tried to warn you to choose a Lakota brave.”

“Kimi, come out!” Hinzi commanded.

“No!” she shouted, “go back to your Pawnee slut!”

“Enough of this foolishness!” He strode into the tipi, bending his tall frame as he came through the door. “We will talk,” He picked her up easily, carrying her outside as she struggled.

“There's nothing to talk about. You shame me before all by paying so much for the enemy girl. I will not abide a Pawnee as your other woman.”

He stood her on her feet, smiling. “So that's what this is all about? Let me explain–”

She slapped him then, a ringing sound. She saw the sudden fury in his blue eyes. His hands trembled as he reached out and grabbed her shoulders. She was abruptly very aware of the strength and size of the man.

“Don't you ever do that again, Butterfly. No doubt even the Lakota would not fault me if I beat you for striking your man across the face.”

“So hit me!” she challenged, sticking her chin out defiantly, but inside, she was quaking. Hinzi was a big, powerful man. No doubt he could kill her with his bare hands. If he beat her, the warriors might not say anything when they heard she had paid him the supreme insult by hitting him in the face.

“You sassy little chit. You're the only one I know with more arrogance than me,” Even as she struggled, he pulled her close, kissed her, forced her lips apart, plunged his tongue inside. She tried to pull away from him, but his superior strength molded her small body against him all the way down both their lengths. His strong fingers burned into her shoulders as she tried to twist away from him, but his mouth and hands were relentless in their stroking and caressing.

With a moan of surrender, Kimi clung to him. She was his, body and soul, every quaking nerve fiber in her body was wanting him. Her pride meant nothing to her as she stopped fighting and let him ravage her mouth with his tongue, his hands stroking and caressing her.