Savage Winter (27 page)

He watched as the warriors began painting their faces, and then he hurried down the hill, knowing that time was against him. He had to get to the Blackfoot village to warn Windhawk of the impending danger.

Farley led his three horses away as silently as possible. When he thought he was a safe enough distance away from the Assiniboin camp, he mounted and rode toward the Blackfoot village as fast as he could. He was thankful that his horse was still fresh. The pack horses were slowing him down, but he knew he couldn’t let them go just yet for fear the Assiniboin would come upon them. He would have to travel some distance before turning them loose.

When he had ridden for a good distance, he let go of the reins of the pack horses and watched them gallop away. He vaguely regretted that Joanna wouldn’t ever see the blue material he had bought for her.

Joanna hesitated before she entered Windhawk’s lodge. She hadn’t been in his lodge for a long time, but she knew he had ridden away this morning and there was no danger of facing him now. Gathering up her courage, she threw back the flap and entered. She wouldn’t allow herself to look about the lodge; it was still painful to be in the place where she and Windhawk had once been so happy together.

Seeing Tag curled up on a buffalo robe asleep, she made her way to him and dropped to her knees.

She shook him by the arm. “Tag, wake up. Do you want to sleep the day away?”

Tag opened his eyes and then closed them again. “I am tired, Joanna. I spent most of the night chasing Windhawk’s herd.”

“It is almost noon, and you missed going on the hunt with Windhawk.”

He sat up quickly. “Why didn’t Windhawk wake me? He knew I wanted to go on the buffalo hunt!”

“He told Sun Woman to let you sleep. He said you could join the hunt tomorrow.”

Tag stood up, plainly showing his disappointment. “I am the only warrior who didn’t get to go. Why should I have to remain behind with nothing but women and children?”

She smiled and ruffled his hair. “Most of the young warriors would be glad to be the only male in camp with so many young maidens.”

“I’m serious, Joanna, and all you do is make jokes!”

“Not so, my brother…I am deadly serious.”

He smiled, masking his disappointment. “Perhaps you are right. I—”

Suddenly the sound of a horse galloping into the village interrupted Tag. Joanna walked to the flap and threw it aside to look out.

“It’s Farley!” she cried, glad to see the old trapper had returned.

“Windhawk! It’s the Assiniboin and them two damn Cree!” Farley yelled out in English. “They’re coming! Grab your arms and make ready to defend the village!”

Joanna felt her legs go weak—Tag pushed past her and rushed toward Farley.

“What are you saying, Farley?” the boy asked, unable to grasp the fact that the village was about to be attacked.

“Where’s Windhawk?” Farley asked, looking past Tag and noticing that there were only women and children gathering about him.

“Windhawk and the rest of the warriors have gone on a buffalo hunt to the north. There are no men in the village,” Joanna said, feeling fear prickle her spine.

Farley let out his breath, realizing the seriousness of the situation. “I ’spect it’s up to you and me, Tag. Take a fresh horse and ride like hell to find Windhawk. I’ll get things ready here.”

“No,” Tag said, realizing Farley was a far better tracker than he was. The old trapper would be able to find Windhawk faster than he would. “Farley, you go find Windhawk. I’ll take care of the women and children.”

Sun Woman appeared at Farley’s side with a fresh horse, and the old man didn’t hesitate before springing onto the animal’s back.

“Do the best you can, Tag, but hurry! I’ll be back soon as I can. Them Assiniboin are no more than a couple hours behind me.”

Tag sprang into action, amazing everyone with his authority, taking over control of the situation.

“Morning Song, take some of the maidens and ride to the pasture. Bring as many horses as you can. Go quickly!” He turned to his sister. “Joanna, organize the women to bring travois to place the old and the sick on. No one must be left behind!” He then spoke to Sun Woman. “Group the children together and have the women take what weapons they can carry. Build up the campfires so it will look like we are still here. We need to buy all the time we can.”

Somehow Tag inspired trust in everyone, and they gathered about him to hear what he had to say, ready to obey his command.

Running into Windhawk’s lodge, Tag grabbed up the tomahawk Windhawk had once given him along with several lances, spears, and a bow and arrows.

It was strange, Tag thought, but he felt calm and in control of his emotions. He remembered Windhawk once telling him that a man never knows if he will be brave until he is tested. Today Tag was being tested, and he hoped he would make Windhawk proud of him.

When Morning Song returned with the horses, the travois were quickly attached to them, and Tag and several of the women began placing the sick and the elderly on them.

When everyone was ready to leave, they looked once more to Tag for guidance.

“Windhawk will come down from the north—the Assiniboin are coming from the east—we shall ride to the northwest where Windhawk will be between us and the Assiniboin. Hurry, we have no time to lose!”

He waited until the others rode out of the village, then he turned to Morning Song, who stood beside him.

“Is everyone out of the village?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Tag helped Morning Song onto her horse, and then he mounted Navaron. He rode to the head of the group so he could lead them to safety.

Joanna and Morning Song rode at the rear, making sure no one lagged behind. Joanna kept looking behind her, fearing the Assiniboin would soon be upon them. She felt such fear that it seemed to seep into every pore of her skin. Suddenly, she realized that she had left behind something irreplaceable—Windhawk’s bear-claw necklace! She saw that Sun Woman had Little Hawk with her, and Joanna knew she would keep him safe. She had to return to the village to get Windhawk’s necklace!

Every so often Tag would ride to the back to make sure that everyone was moving. He couldn’t help but seek out the ones who meant the most to him. Sun Woman had Little Hawk strapped to her back, and Morning Song was riding beside the children. Joanna was—! Where was Joanna?

Turning his mount back toward the village, he allowed his horse to have its head. Joanna had returned to the village.

Tag realized he had to reach her ahead of the Assiniboin!

Farley had no trouble picking up Windhawk’s trail. When he topped a hill he saw the large herd of buffalo, and among them rode many of the Blackfoot warriors. Racing down the hill at a full gallop, he rode toward Windhawk, yelling at the top of his voice. The herd of buffalo became spooked by Farley’s yelling and began to stampede.

Windhawk pulled up his buffalo runner and watched as the old trapper rode at top speed toward him. Gray Fox stopped beside Windhawk and pointed at Farley.

“The old man has ruined the day’s hunt, my chief. He should know that a man does not stampede the buffalo.”

“That old man would never do such a thing without a good reason,” Windhawk said, nudging his horse in the flanks and riding to meet Farley.

When he was near enough that he could hear what Farley was saying, he drew rein.

“Windhawk, come quick! The Assiniboin are making ready to attack the village!”

“What of Joanna and my son?” Windhawk asked, feeling great fear.

“Tag will take care of them. He has stayed behind to arm the village.”

Windhawk started to say that Farley hadn’t been wise to leave a boy in charge until he remembered there were no men in the village. He hoped Tag didn’t try to defend the village. He prayed the boy would realize he must get the women and children away to safety.

By now other warriors had gathered about Windhawk, and they heard what the old man had to say.

“Ride fast, my warriors, we go to protect our families!” Windhawk called out as he kicked his horse in the flanks, praying he wouldn’t be too late.

Farley drew even with Windhawk and saw the look of concern on his face. “I seed them two Cree warriors that captured Joanna and Morning Song riding with them Assiniboin,” Farley said, forgetting to speak in the tongue of the Blackfoot. He watched the look of concern that had been etched on Windhawk’s face turn to a look of hatred and anger.

“They will walk among the spirits before the sun sets today,” he whispered, more to himself than to the old man.

Joanna rode into the village and quickly leaped from her horse. How strange and silent the village seemed. She had the feeling that she was all alone in the world. There were no sounds of children’s laughter and no sign of life of any kind. Even the village dogs were gone.

Feeling fear so strong it was like a great lump in her throat, she raced into Sun Woman’s tipi. Looking about her
in confusion, she wondered where Windhawk’s mother had placed the necklace. Frantically, she searched among baskets and robes, but she couldn’t find the necklace anywhere. Suddenly it became the single most important thing in her life. The bear-claw necklace had once symbolized Windhawk’s love for her, and she had to find it! Finally, she emptied Sun Woman’s sewing basket, and the necklace fell out in her lap. With grateful tears in her eyes, she picked it up lovingly and held it to her breast.

Hearing the thundering of horses’ hooves, Joanna realized she had very little time to get away from the village. Jumping quickly to her feet, she raced toward the opening, but in her haste to get away, her legs became entangled in a buffalo robe. She fell to the ground, hitting her head against the lodgepole. Pain shot through her temple, and she felt her head swimming dizzily.

Now the sounds of war whoops reached her ears, and she knew she would never make it to safety if she didn’t hurry. She staggered to her feet and made her way outside just as the enemy entered the far end of the village.

Tag spurred Navaron forward and entered the village from the opposite direction of the Assiniboin. He rode directly to Sun Woman’s tipi and spotted Fosset just in front. Everything happened at once then—Joanna ran from the tipi and raced toward Fosset, and Big Hand spotted her at the same time as Tag.

Joanna came up to the left of Fosset and tried to mount, but the horse spooked at the sound of the war whoops and skidded to the side.

“Not now, Fosset!” Joanna cried, knowing the giant horse had always been skittish. Once more she tried to leap onto his back, but Fosset reared up on his hind legs and turned into the horse of Big Hand.

Big Hand reached for his tomahawk. Recognizing Windhawk’s woman, he knew if he killed her he would settle an old score with the chief of the Blackfoot. As he neared Joanna, he took aim, ready to throw his tomahawk. At the
moment Big Hand would have released the tomahawk, Fosset fell against his horse, knocking it to its knees and sending Big Hand flying through the air to land with a thud on the ground.

Joanna screamed as she watched her precious Fosset fall to the ground. An agonizing sound came from deep inside the giant animal!

She was vaguely aware that the enemy were going from tipi to tipi burning and destroying. Confused and disoriented, she didn’t know what to do. It was at that moment that she saw Big Hand spring to his feet, and she recognized him as one of the Cree warriors who had captured her and Morning Song.

Joanna seemed to freeze as he advanced on her with his tomahawk poised to strike. She had cheated death many times in the past, but she realized there would be no way to save herself now. She watched with a certain amount of detachment as the tomahawk was thrown and waited for the impact of it to hit her. Suddenly, she was knocked to the ground from behind, and she glanced back to see Tag. She watched as the tomahawk that had been meant for her fell to the ground.

Tag felt the pain that knifed through his shoulder. He knew he had been hit by the blade of the tomahawk, but he couldn’t think of himself if he was to save his sister. Leaping to his feet, he stood ready to meet the enemy.

Big Hand’s eyes narrowed as he saw the golden-haired boy who had cheated him out of his victim. No matter, he thought, he would have not only the Flaming Hair’s scalp on his lance, but the golden-haired boy’s as well.

Tag reached for his tomahawk and, taking careful aim, threw it at the advancing Indian. The weapon found its target, and Big Hand screamed out in agony as it sliced through his chest. His eyes seemed to glaze over as he fell heavily to the ground.

Tag jerked Joanna to her feet and shoved her into the nearest tipi, which was Windhawk’s. He shoved her to the
back and unsheathed his knife, standing before the opening, ready to defend her with his life. He had no thought for his own safety, for he knew in his mind that he would die, but he couldn’t let the enemy take his sister.

“When they come in, Joanna, you must not allow them to take you alive.”

She nodded, reaching up to the lodgepole and removing a lance. Tag turned his back to her, watching the doorway, and Joanna saw the blood that was streaming down his back. She hadn’t realized he had been hurt!

“Tag, let me help you. You are hurt!” she cried out.

“It’s nothing. Stay where you are,” he said in a voice of command.

At that moment, a new sound reached their ears. Tag turned to Joanna, and his eyes were bright. “Windhawk has come, Joanna, you are saved!”

Stalking Wolf and the Assiniboin watched as the Blackfoot swarmed into the village. He felt great fear, knowing that the tall Indian who rode at the head of the Blackfoot warriors could be none other than the legendary Windhawk!

“Let no enemy live through this day but the two Cree! I want them for myself!” he called out.

“The women and children are safely out of the village,” Gray Fox called out.

The fierce Blackfoot warriors charged forward beside their chief. In the middle of the village the two forces clashed. There were the sounds of the dead and the dying as arrows and lances found their intended victims.

Windhawk leaped from his horse and dragged an Assiniboin from his mount. With a powerful thrust, he plunged his knife into his enemy’s heart. Thrusting the dead warrior aside, he turned to meet another.

Windhawk didn’t see the Assiniboin warrior who rode toward him from behind. The man raised his tomahawk and brought it forward just as Windhawk turned. He felt the weapon graze his face just before a shot rang out, and the enemy fell to the ground with a bullet wound in his heart.
Windhawk’s eyes met the old trapper’s, and he sent him a silent message of thanks.

On the battle raged, until it became apparent that the Blackfoot were winning. Windhawk had just withdrawn his knife from a dead enemy when he heard Joanna scream!

Raising his head, he knew that the sound had come from his lodge. How could Joanna be here? She was supposed to be with the other women and children. He began slicing and cutting a path through the enemy to get to Joanna!

Joanna had screamed when the lodge flap was thrown aside and she saw Stalking Wolf enter. Tag lunged forward to meet the intruder with his knife drawn. Stalking Wolf side-stepped Tag and brought his lance down on the back of his head.

His eyes then went to Joanna, and he smiled as he advanced slowly toward her. “We meet again, Flaming Hair. This time you will die!”

She poised the lance in front of her, and her eyes flashed dangerously. “You!” she cried, recognizing Stalking Wolf. “Why have you done this thing?”

He gave her a menacing smile. “It is not time for questions—it is time for you to die!” He leaped at her, and before she could react he grabbed the lance from her hands and pointed it at her. “Today you walk the spirit world—tonight Windhawk will weep for his woman. I know the battle is lost, so I will wound Windhawk where it hurts him the most. I shall kill his woman!”

Stalking Wolf noticed that the Flaming Hair was not looking at him, but, instead, over his shoulder. Sensing rather than hearing a presence behind him, he turned. He saw the tall Blackfoot warrior whose dark eyes seemed to burn into him, and he knew without being told that he faced…Windhawk! Fear seemed to hold him immobile.

“What did you say, dog?” Windhawk hissed between clenched teeth. Windhawk leaped forward and grabbed Stalking Wolf. “Tell me what your name is, so I will know who I
send to the spirit world,” Windhawk commanded, taking the lance and pointing the blade into Stalking Wolf’s throat.

“I meant no harm!” Stalking Wolf cried, falling to his knees. “I would not slay your woman. Did I not allow her to go free before?” He groveled at Windhawk’s feet. “I do not want to die. Spare me, I beg of you!”

Windhawk looked down at the man who was sniveling like a coward. “It will not be by my hand that you die, dog. Windhawk does not bother to slay cowards. You will not die the quick death of a brave man, but the slow death of a coward.”

Gray Fox came in and Windhawk turned to him. “Take this man and tie him up. Later I will decide what is to be done with him.”

Gray Fox looked at Joanna and determined that she was all right. He then looked at Tag, who was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. “The battle is won. The enemy have all either died or have fled to the east, my chief,” he said, grabbing Stalking Wolf and pulling him to his feet.

“Allow no man to escape. Follow them and slay them, so all men will know that it means death to raid the Blood Blackfoot village.”

Gray Fox nodded and pushed Stalking Wolf toward the entrance. “It will be done, Windhawk.”

Joanna’s eyes sought Windhawk’s, and she wanted to fly into his arms.

“Are you unhurt, Joanna?”

She nodded and went quickly to her brother. Tears were streaming down her face as she touched him. “Help Tag, Windhawk. Save my brother!” she pleaded.

Windhawk lifted the boy in his arms and laid him on the buffalo robe. He then examined the wound and found it was not serious.

Joanna picked up a pan of water and a cloth and began cleaning the wound. She then applied the healing herbs and bathed his face.

“You should have seen him today, Windhawk,” she said, teary-eyed. “He would have made you so proud.”

Windhawk’s eyes rested on Joanna’s face. How could he tell her that all he could think of at the moment was that she still lived? How could he tell her of the fear that had been in his heart when he heard her scream out?

“I have always been proud of your brother, as I have of his sister.”

Their eyes locked, and Windhawk covered her hand with his. “Joanna, I…”

Farley pushed the flap aside and entered. He looked at the boy and then at Joanna. “How is the boy?” he asked.

“He is going to be all right, Farley,” Joanna assured him.

“In that case, I think you had better come with me,” the old man said.

Joanna was hesitant about leaving Tag, but Farley’s eyes told her that something was wrong.

The old man took her hand and helped her stand. “It’s Fosset…he’s in pain. I think we are going to have to put him out of his misery.”

“No!” Joanna screamed, running from the lodge. Seeing Fosset lying on the ground, she fell on her knees, running her hand over his smooth flank. Tears of overwhelming grief blinded her as Fosset tried to raise his head and an agonizing sound issued from him.

“Oh, Fosset,” she cried laying her face against his. He couldn’t die. Her father had given him to her.

Windhawk knelt down beside her and began examining Fosset’s two front legs. His expression was grim as he looked at Joanna. “Both legs are broken—we must put him out of his pain, Joanna,” he said sadly.

“No, I will not allow you to do this! You do not understand. Fosset saved my life! If it hadn’t been for him, I would now be dead!”

Windhawk stood and pulled Joanna up with him. “It is good that the horse that brought you and me together should die saving your life,” he whispered, knowing what she was feeling. “Fosset is in pain, Joanna—we must release his spirit.”

Joanna wrenched her hand away from Windhawk and
knelt down again. “Oh, Fosset, you have served me well,” she cried, laying her face against his again.

The horse seemed to look straight into Joanna’s eyes, and she saw he was in pain.

“Go inside, Joanna…I will attend to Fosset,” Windhawk told her. He knew what she was feeling and wished he could spare her.

“No!” she cried. “If it must be done, then I will do it. Farley, give me your gun.”

The old man gazed at her doubtfully for a moment, but the look in her eyes told him she meant what she said. He made sure his gun was loaded and then handed it to her. Farley watched Joanna raise the rifle to her shoulder, as she took careful aim.