Savage Hero (2 page)

He would make a new life for himself, even if he must live it alone.

The first thing he must do was steal a horse, and then find a place where he could be hidden from any who might realize he had not died and come looking for him.

He smiled as he thought of the perfect place where he could be safe, where he could make a world for himself as he learned to live alone.

It was a place that he and his brother Brave Wolf had found when he was a young brave trying to pretend he was a great, valiant warrior.

Yes, Night Horse would go there. He was a survivor, a man who had just cheated death.

Now he must find a way to tolerate his empty life, and he would, for this place where he would make his new life was a place of beauty where he would live among animals, and where eagles made their nests and taught their children how to soar among the clouds.

But even those things, which had always before filled his heart with joy, would not keep him from remembering, over and over again, what he had experienced today.

It was
sheetsha-sheetsha
, bad, bad!

The American Indian once
grew as naturally as the wild
sunflowers; he belongs just
as the buffalo belonged.

—Luther Standing Bear,
Oglala Sioux Chief

Three months later—Montana

The fire burned soft and low in the tepee. Shadows thrown by the flames leapt on the inside buffalo-hide walls of the lodge, where there were no painted designs, for this was the home of an elderly widow.

The tepee that she had shared with her chieftain husband had been taken down, hide by hide, pole by pole, and removed from the village, for it was
not good to live in a tepee where someone had died . . . not even a powerful chief.

Only the exploits and victories of a husband were painted on the inside walls of a lodge, a woman's victories did not compare with a man's since she mainly bore the children and cared for the family.

Although women considered their accomplishments just as important, still it was only the man's doings that were painted inside their lodges.

Pure Heart, aging and ill, sat with her son of twenty-five winters, Chief Brave Wolf. They were of the Whistling Water Clan of the Crow tribe. Brave Wolf had been given the title of chief upon the death of his beloved chieftain father.

Her moon-white hair was braided and coiled atop her head, her cheeks and eyes sunken by age, Pure Heart sat with a blanket wrapped warmly around her frail shoulders. It was the time of the Moon of the Falling Leaves, when the days became cool and the nights cold.

“
Micinksi
, my son, you must do this one thing for me before I die,” Pure Heart said as she gazed over the low flames of the fire at Brave Wolf.

In him she saw a replica of her late husband. His face was sculpted and handsome, and his bare, copper shoulders were as muscular as his father's had once been. He wore only a breechcloth and moccasins.

In his midnight-black eyes she saw wisdom, much of which he had learned from his father.
There was also warmth and caring in his gaze as he looked back at her.

She also saw how her words had brought trouble into those eyes.

She had two sons. She realized that one was good, and one bad.

One had chosen the good road of life, the other wandered far from it.

It was for the son who had gone astray that she was so concerned today, a son whom she had not seen for too many moons.

“
Ina
, my mother, you know that I always try to do all that you ask of me, but
this
?” Brave Wolf responded, his voice drawn.

He lifted a piece of wood and placed it with the other burning logs in the fire pit, watching as the flames caught hold.

“
Micinksi
, I understand your hesitation, but remember that we are not talking about just any warrior who chose to ally himself with whites,” Pure Heart said, her voice breaking. “Son, this is your brother. This is Night Horse, the brother who was born only one winter after you took your own first breaths of life. Think of the good times you had with your brother, how you each defended the other when anyone offered too many challenges for only one young brave to deal with. Brave Wolf, it was you who protected your brother that time when you were hunting and a bear threatened Night Horse. You even now carry that bear's claw in your medicine bundle. Do you not realize the
meaning of that? It is a reminder, always, of a brother who loved a brother.”

“I did love him with all my heart,
Ina
, but he went away from us and chose to be someone I no longer know,” Brave Wolf said thickly.

In frustration, he wove his powerful fingers through his long black hair, which hung loose and flowing to his waist.

He brushed a strand back from his face, then sighed heavily and nodded. “But,
hecitu-yelo
, yes, I do understand your enduring love for your youngest. I also see that he has brought sadness into eyes that were at one time always filled with sunshine and laughter.”

He leaned forward, his eyes now peering intently into hers. “
Ina
, he does not deserve such love and devotion,” he said tightly. “He deserves no loyalty from me.”

“But, Brave Wolf, he is still my son, just as you are my son,” she said, then swallowed back a sob. “He . . . is . . . your brother. He is and he always will be. Brothers, no matter what shame one might have brought into a family, are . . . still . . . brothers.”

Brave Wolf sighed heavily, lowered his eyes, then rose to his feet and walked around the fire to sit down beside his mother.

He drew her into his arms. “Does this truly mean so much to you?” he asked, as she clung to him and he slowly caressed her back through the soft blanket. “Is it this important to you?”

“I would not ask it of you if it were not,” she
said, this time unable to hold back the tears. She sobbed and clung, then inched away from Brave Wolf so that she could again peer deeply into his midnight-dark eyes. “As long as Night Horse holds breath within his lungs, he is my son and he is your brother. How can you not want to know whether he is alive or dead? He was not found among the dead on the battlefield where yellow-haired Custer died.”

She swallowed hard, then said, “As far as we know, Night Horse did not die,” she said softly. She reached a hand to Brave Wolf's cheek. “When we received word of this battle, and that it was over, a battle where none of our own Whistling Water Clan fought, I sent you to look for Night Horse. You did not find him among the dead, and we both know that he was one of Yellow Hair's favored scouts and would have gone into battle with him. He was so enthralled by the evil white leader, he would have died alongside Yellow Hair.”

“Night Horse is probably alive and well and planning to join another group of white pony soldiers riding against his own people,” Brave Wolf said, his voice a low growl. “When he chose the life of a scout, he ceased to be my brother.”

“But by blood, he is and he always will be,” Pure Heart said, lowering her hand away from his face. She wiped tears from her eyes with hands so bony, Brave Wolf shivered and knew that she was surely not long for this earth.

He made himself look away from her hands.
Such reminders of his mother's condition caused great pain inside his heart.

“You know that when Night Horse left our village to ally himself with the cavalry, I did not ever want to see him again, whether or not he was my brother by blood,” he said.

He gazed deep into his mother's eyes and took her hands in his. “Yet still I went to claim his body for your sake, for proper burial. I did not find him anywhere among the dead on the battlefield,” he said. “I cannot help concluding that Night Horse did not die, but instead had sneaked away like a coward, who must now be hiding. That was many sleeps ago, Mother. If he wanted to be with his people again, with
you
, he would have found his way home by now.”

“He might be terribly injured and . . . and . . . slowly dying,” Pure Heart said, her voice catching. Tears streamed from her old and faded eyes. “Does it truly matter who he was with when it happened? The fact that he might be dying should be all that matters. He should be with family for his last moments on this earth.”

“
Ina
, what he did with his life goes against everything
Ahte
ever taught his two sons,” Brave Wolf replied. “You know that I walk in my father's shadow and, like him, I am known as a peace chief who deals wisely with the United States Government. I have tried to win every advantage for our people, whereas my brother joined the whites and worked against our people for what he could gain personally. My father, your chieftain husband, represented
our tribe at the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868. What would he have thought of a son who plotted and planned with whites to try to wipe from the face of the earth red men and women . . . even innocent children.”

He framed her face between his hands. “Remembering this, can you still want to see and hold your youngest son in your arms again?” he asked, searching her eyes. “
Ina
, he should be as dead in your heart as he is in mine.”

“I am so proud of everything that my husband did, and of what you are doing for our people,” Pure Heart said softly. “So is your father proud as he gazes down at you from the stars in the sky where he now makes his home.”

She lowered her eyes, then again looked into Brave Wolf's. “Although I am not as proud of Night Horse as I am of you, nothing can take away the fact that I gave birth to him and that I shall love him, no matter what he has done, until the last breath leaves his lungs . . . or mine,” she murmured. “Knowing this, will you not do as I ask? Will you not at least go and search for him one more time? If you do, and you cannot find him, then I shall never ask such a thing of you again. I shall know that you at least made an attempt to bring him home to me so that I can make some sort of peace with him.”

“You know that the search could carry me across a vast area, and even then I might not find him,” Brave Wolf said. “The search will take me from our people for many sunrises and sunsets. Knowing
that, and also knowing that it is my place to stay with our people, to keep ugliness from our village, you still wish for me to go? If I choose others to go on the search, would that satisfy you?”

“I trust our warriors when a request is made of them that does not go against everything they believe in, but now? When I ask something they will frown upon . . . to search for someone who has betrayed the Crow . . . I cannot wholly trust that they would bring him home alive to me.”

Brave Wolf was disturbed to hear that his mother did not fully trust those who were under Brave Wolf's command, but he could not dispute her words.

He was beginning to see that he had no choice but to do this for his mother. He saw how distraught she was, and had been since she had become aware of Night Horse's disappearance. He feared her anxiety might hurry along her death. He would do anything to keep her with him longer on this earth.

If he had to come face to face with Night Horse again, so be it.

“Yes, Mother, I hear you well and I feel your pain when you speak of your youngest son, so I will do as you ask of me,” Brave Wolf said tightly. “If I find Night Horse, I will bring him home to you. If I do not find my brother, you must realize that it is time to put aside your grieving and work at becoming stronger.”

Pure Heart smiled through her tears. She placed a gentle hand on Brave Wolf's cheek. “You just
called Night Horse your brother,” she murmured. “That must mean that inside your heart, you do still see him as such.”

“Although I do not wish to claim him as blood kin, he is my brother, for did we not come from the same womb and seed?” Brave Wolf said, then drew her gently into his arms. “Mother, I love you so much. Please rest while I am gone. I shall search until I feel it is time to return home. You must accept Night Horse's fate then. Will you?”

“Yes, I will openly accept it, but inside my heart, if Night Horse is not with you, I will be crying,” Pure Heart murmured. “Go now, son. Prepare those warriors who will ride with you, and those who will remain home to provide protection to those who need it in your absence. I will pray for your return, as well as for your brother's and those who ride with you.”

He hugged her tenderly, kissed her softly on the cheek, then left her lodge.

Reluctantly he brought his warriors into the council house and told them his plan, that they would search for Night Horse, and if they found him, would bring him home.

Hardly any of his warriors wanted to accompany Brave Wolf on this particular mission, even if it was their chief asking them, and even if it was his mother who needed this son at her side during her illness.

As they saw it, Night Horse was no longer one of them. He was a disgrace, someone who deserved not even one more thought.

Brave Wolf had said that he understood their feelings, for they matched his own, but it was a mother's plea that had reached inside his heart.

After he had asked them to think of her, his warriors finally agreed to go with him.

Not long before, Brave Wolf had captured a prized dark sorrel from those he had seen picketed close to an enemy camp. He rode that horse now through Crow country, his warriors dutifully accompanying him.

They carried a varied assortment of weapons, some even carrying rifles. Some time ago, his people had believed that those whose skin was white were people of magic. When they had arrived in this land, they had carried “firesticks” that barked like thunder. At first, the Crow had truly thought the “firesticks” made lightning, capable of killing them from afar.

But the Crow no longer feared this fiery weapon. Sun Father watched over them and Mother Earth guided them as the warriors rode proudly across lush meadows and wooded hills that abounded with game.