DREAM DANCER
Kneeling, Walks with Moon extended her arms, pressing the sharp-edged granite stone hard against the buffalo hide stretched between cottonwood stakes imbedded in the ground and drew the stone back toward her knees. Soon, the hide, laying hair side down on the early summer grass and already stripped of its blood, fat and tissues, would be ready for a vigorous rubbing of mashed and boiled tatanka brains.
Pausing to let her arms rest, she shifted slightly, spreading her knees to give the pronounced rounding of her belly more room as she bent over the hide. Waving one hand to brush away the flies that buzzed around her and hummed above the boiled brain emulsion, she smiled at Eagle Talon sitting cross-legged in front of their tipi. “I am pleased you managed to kill one of our brothers even though hunting alone. We now have two tatanka for winter, the one Soaring Eagle gave to us when you were away and this one that Spirit provided today.”
Shifting his stare from off into the distance, Eagle Talon scanned the hide and then his wife’s figure, lingering on the tight leather around her middle. “I would like to help you, Walks with Moon. This is much work for you when carrying our child.”
“Thank you, husband, but this is not the work of a brave.” She smiled. “Besides, Pony Hoof finished tanning their last robe just two days before she gave birth to their daughter. I will not have my friends thinking I am weak or spoiled.” She thrust her chin out to where their ponies grazed. One, a handsome, muscular tobiano mustang, limped, dragging its right rear hoof as it moved slowly through the grasses. “How is your horse today?”
Eagle Talon shook his head slowly. “The horn did not bury itself too deeply. I do not think any damage was done, other than the ripping of some muscle and hide. I cleaned it and packed it with plantain poultice.” He studied the pony. “The next sun or two will tell the story. If the bleeding stops and there is no infection, all will be fine. If not…” his eyes squinted, “I will have to open and re-clean the wound. He will not be able to be ridden until we get back to winter camp, perhaps later.” He shook his head sadly. “My best horse.”
Walks with Moon wiped the sweat from over her eyes with her forearm, hunching down again over the staked hide, remembering part of the story Eagle Talon told her the night before. One of our brothers detached himself from the rest of the herd. I rode quickly to within three lance lengths. The first arrow was behind the shoulder, perhaps a bit high. He stumbled. The second arrow, in his neck above the shoulder, found its mark. He went down and then rolled to his side, spilling much blood.
“Tell me the story again, beginning where your mustang protected you,” she requested, knowing it pleased him to recount his pony’s bravery.
Eagle Talon smiled at her. “I dismounted,” he said, “and had already drawn my knife when the bull lunged to his feet.”
With his finger, he traced the story in the sand between his crossed knees.
“Hunting alone, there were no other riders to distract him. The bull turned quickly, charging at my pony. Bravely, he stood between us, jumping away at the last moment, but a horn tore through the back part of his haunch.”
Eagle Talon shook his head, remembering. “Fortunately, I had my lance.” He added disgustedly, “At least I had that much presence of mind. The tatanka collapsed to its forelegs. I thrust the lance into the back of his neck.”
Absorbed in the story, Walks with Moon stopped scraping the last bits of residue.
“You know the rest…” he said, raising his eyes to hers.
They both fell silent. The only sounds were the soft sigh of a gentle breeze, just strong enough to bend the very tips of the grasses, the distant, almost inaudible murmur of the creek and the wet scrape of the rock against the hide.
“It is now two suns past the end of the first moon since the Council’s decree. It is obvious they are not going to lift it.” His voice was flat, but Walks with Moon detected the concealed disappointment in his tone.
Fighting the impulse to look at him, she concentrated instead on the hide. “Have you given any thought to what we might name our son?”
“You keep insisting that we will have a son, Walks with Moon. This seems based entirely on the ramblings of Talks with Shadows from the little you’ve told me.”
Walks with Moon paused, then resumed her draw of the stone. His frustration and the injury to the horse have made him ill-tempered. “Well, husband, if it is a daughter we shall choose a different name, but what name would you prefer for a son?”
Eagle Talon’s silence prompted her to look back over her shoulder at him. His stare at her was hard until their eyes met, then his bronzed features softened and his lips lost their tight press. He knows I’m trying to distract him and he is pleased.
Eagle Talon reached over to the small leather pouch filled with pemmican she had set beside him, gathering some of the dried meat in his fingers, tipping his head back and dropping it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully. “If Spirit blesses us with a son, and Talks with Shadows’ visions are for once proven correct,” he chuckled “then I think we should name him Dream Dancer.”
Walks with Moon let go of the rock, straightening up and looking at him for a long moment. “Dream Dancer,” she repeated slowly, and smiled. “A fine name, Eagle Talon.”
Eagle Talon grinned back at her. “And when, wife, may we expect…” he paused, “…our son to join us?”
“I don’t know exactly, husband,” feeling the heat rise in her face. “There could have been many times when we began his life. Eagle Talon’s smile broadened and he nodded his head, “I have talked with Turtle Dove. We believe it will be in canwapegi wi, when the leaves begin to golden, perhaps during our journey back to winter camp.” Eagle Talon nodded, the smile leaving his face. “Let us hope that by that time the father of Dream Dancer will once again ride in front, as the eyes of the People, so that his son will be proud.”
The sun was low to the horizon, casting long shadows on the grasses surrounding the camp, patches of shade in ever-growing crescent shapes on the east faces of the gentle swells of plains. Walks with Moon had begun rubbing the brain mash into the hide to soften the leather. Restless after having visited the mustang, Eagle Talon rose from where he was seated cross-legged in front of the tipi, his mind on the injured tobiano. The bleeding has stopped, but the outer edges of the gore is forming puss and the pony’s muzzle is warm. If it is no better when the sun rises, I shall have to open and re-clean the wound and repack it with a new poultice.
The sound of a horse approaching at a lope arrested his attention. Three Cougars! The brave slowed his horse at a nearby lodge, leaning far over its side to speak with Talks with Shadows, Turtle Shield’s wife. Three Cougars straightened, digging his heels and directing the pony toward their tipi at a fast trot.
Eagle Talon halted his stride out toward the injured pony. Three Cougars looked at him, then quickly away, instead reining in the mustang next to Walks with Moon. “Fine hide, Walks with Moon. It will make a good robe.”
Holding one hand out to block the setting sun, Walks with Moon looked up at the brave. “Thank you, Three Cougars.”
Studiously avoiding Eagle Talon, who was now just a lance length away, Three Cougars spoke to Walks with Moon, pointing behind him, “Tell Eagle Talon that the Council is assembling. He is summoned by Flying Arrow and Tracks on Rock.”
Walks with Moon’s eyes widened as she and Eagle Talon exchanged quick glances. “What is it about Three Cougars?” she asked, an equal mixture of concern and hope in her voice.
“The Council has not confided in me, Walks with Moon. But they expect Eagle Talon, Pointed Lance, Brave Pony, Three Knives, and Turtle Shield when the sun can no longer be seen.” His eyes rose involuntarily to Eagle Talon, again quickly averting his gaze. “Please tell Eagle Talon.” He wheeled his pony, urging it into a lope in the direction of Brave Pony’s lodge.
Walks with Moon looked up at Eagle Talon from where she knelt, a slight quiver in her lips. “Husband, do you suppose…”
“It can only be one of two things, Walks with Moon,” Eagle Talon interrupted her. “They will lift the shame, or they will not,” he said.
Eagle Talon sprang from his mustang by the Council Lodge. He had hurriedly braided eight feathers into his hair, cleaned his hands from the stains of his horses’ wound, and had rubbed himself with sage. His four friends had already arrived, their horses milling around the lodge. All the warriors stood stiffly, not looking or talking to one another, their faces anxious. The highest lines of the gentle ridges around the camp glowed with a fading golden sheen. Like the fringe of deer leather in sun. Daylight was remembered only by the slightest of shallow halos of fading rose to the west.
The lodge flap opened roughly and the wizened face of Horse’s Leg, one of the Council members, poked out, looking at each of them in turn. “Come,” he commanded.
When none of the other braves moved, Eagle Talon swallowed, walking the few steps to the lodge entry, bending slightly to enter. Straightening, he looked ahead to avoid the faces of the Council members, shuffling slightly to the side as the other braves entered, until all five of them stood in a nervous line near the small fire burning in the center of the lodge.
“The Council has discussed your situation and has come to a decision,” pronounced Flying Arrow. There was a long silence. Eagle Talon used all his willpower not to seek out the source of the deep, authoritative voice.
“We have decided your period of shame is over with the rise of the next sun.” Eagle Talon heard the exhale of tension from Brave Pony beside him. “We have further decided that your actions were brave, but reckless. Therefore, the coup each of you counted will be half recognized and half forsaken. Perhaps in the future you will remember the lack of feathers in your hair when it comes time to make a decision.”
But I have five coup, how does one wear half a feather? Eagle Talon could feel his great chief ’s eyes on him. Flying Arrow, as if reading his mind, answered. “Those of you who counted coup in an odd number shall take the lesser number of feathers than one half.” An extra punishment because it was I who talked the other braves into attacking the Pawnee.
“Brave Pony, Pointed Lance, Three Knives and Turtle Shield, you may return to your lodges. Eagle Talon, you will remain.”
What is this?
The four warriors who had been dismissed circled the lodge fire sun-wise, keeping their eyes straight ahead and then quickly exited, their relief and desire to be away from the Council evident in their haste.
When the sound of their ponies could be heard no more, Eagle Talon lifted his eyes and, for the first time in over a moon, searched the faces of the Council. All were turned to him, firelight heightening the reddish-brown chasms of their aged skins. Tracks on Rock spoke, “Our advance scouts happened on the bodies of three Cheyenne warriors. They had been shot, stripped of their clothing and beads, and scalped. The tracks surrounding their bodies were shod hooves. Two of them were shot in the back.”
The faces looking up at Eagle Talon were somber— worried. Flying Arrow shifted his cross legged position slightly. “The waste of our tatanka brothers we saw seven suns ago? And now the killing of the three Cheyenne? The scouts say they appeared to be watering their horses when they were attacked, nothing more. These are bad omens. We must know more about the hairy-faced-ones— what they plan, how many there are and how they think.”
Tracks on Rock spoke in a low tone, “Do you know in what direction the white eyes you met, Roo-bin and his woman, went?”
Eagle Talon slowly shook his head. “I did not ask. I only knew from Spirit that we would meet again.” Several of the Council members turned to one another. There was a murmur of low voices. Tracks on Rock threw several sticks on the lodge fire. The flames leapt higher, heightening the intensity of the shadows playing on the hides of the lodge.
“Turtle Dove has told me that the hairy-faced-one of many winters ago, the tall one to whom we taught the ways of Spirit and the land, Zeb-Riah, was with Roo-bin.
Eagle Talon nodded, surprised.
“We know Zeb-Riah traps in the lands of the Ute, where water turns rock red. The Council has not decided, but we wish to know if you would be willing to seek out this man you believe is your spirit brother and see if he will share his knowledge of the white eyes with you.”
Eagle Talon thought quickly. If they decide, it will be a directive couched as a request. If I refuse, I cannot maintain my honor. But, if Walks with Moon is right, she will give birth within two moons. That I will not miss.
“I would be honored if that is the Council’s decision.” There were nods of approval and another murmur. “But…” a hush fell over the lodge, “my wife expects the birth of our son in the season of hihpa ye. It could be earlier. Once in the land where water turns rock red, my search for Roo-bin would be shadowed with the worry I would have for Walks with Moon.”
Tracks on Rock and Flying Arrow leaned toward one another, speaking several words quietly. Tracks on Rock smiled at him. “Your son? How are you so sure Walks with Moon will bear a son?”
The image of Walks with Moon, her eyes-narrowed, serious, and believing, flashed through Eagle Talon’s mind. “Walks with Moon assures me.”
There were several chuckles from various members of the Council and Tracks on Rock’s smile broadened. “All of us here have learned not to argue with the women. We understand, but if the child arrives later, your travels may meet with the first snows.” Eagle Talon nodded. I had not thought of that.
Flying Arrow waved his hand signaling the end of the discussion. “We will make a decision by the next moon.”
The coals glowed in the fire ring, their light casting a dull glow over their sleeping robes. Lying on her side, Walks with Moon pressed her breasts against Eagle Talon’s back, kissing his neck lightly. Her hand slipped under his arm and across his chest, her fingers playing softly on his skin. She knew his thoughts, as he knew hers.
“It is a great weight now gone,” he chuckled. “I shall have to practice looking people in the eye again.”
Walks with Moon brushed her lips to his neck again, letting them linger. Her hand traced downward across the muscled ridges of his belly to the hairy warmth between his legs. Closing her fingers around him, she whispered, “I have been missing you, husband. We should celebrate.” She moved her hand in a slight rhythm, feeling him quicken, his body hardening, his girth filling her hand.
Eagle Talon turned over to face her, his tongue finding her breast. He began to slide one leg over hers.
“Husband, we are past the time for that. We must use our other ways.” The image of straddling him, looking down into eyes that once again shine brightly, already stirs my want.
Yet another image fed Eagle Talon’s desire. Raising his mouth from her skin and smiling, he turned her tenderly over to her belly, and in that gesture Walks with Moon sensed a deeper need. His manhood has suffered… let him fill you in this way…
Eagle Talon rose to his knees pulling her up and backwards to him. She eased her upper body to the robe, supporting herself with her arms, as he positioned his outer thighs against her inner legs, spreading them. And as his fingers gently dipped into the wetness between her legs, his other hand warm and comforting over the roundness of their son, a heated tingling spread through her abdomen. His hips moved against her buttocks and slowly her body opened to his presence, a wave of intense pleasure, long missed, sweeping through them both.