Ice Raven nodded gravely. “A white woman, young, very beautiful. As we talked at old Riley’s stagecoach stop, she came in to eat. We could hear her. She claimed to be Lady Douglas. Hawk was upset.”
Blade chuckled softly. “We played out an attack upon her stagecoach.”
“She fought with more spirit than many a Crow!” Ice Raven laughed.
Crazy Horse arched a brow. Their traditional Crow enemies were certainly brave, though naturally they mocked their enemies. But the woman must have been interesting.
“Since his father has died,” Crazy Horse said, “and Hawk is one with the white world, then he is Lord Douglas, as his father was called.”
Blade nodded.
“So who was the woman?”
Ice Raven looked at Blade and shrugged. “We rode with him and Willow to seize the stagecoach, but from there, he wished to handle the matter himself. He took her away on his horse, and we parted company with our brother Willow and returned here.”
“They’re sending his father’s body here from across the land. When it comes, they will bury David Douglas in the ground at Mayfair, as is the white way.”
“I will wait for Hawk to come here to tell him we all honored David,” Crazy Horse said. “I will not go near the whites.”
“He knows what is happening. He will not expect you,” Blade said.
“Perhaps his good childhood friend, Dark Mountain, will go,” Ice Raven said.
Crazy Horse smiled. “Good. I am anxious to hear about this woman. Although…” He was silent a minute, then shrugged. “Men must be careful where women are concerned.”
“He was angry, nothing more,” Ice Raven assured Crazy Horse.
“She was very beautiful?” Crazy Horse asked.
“A man must like pale skin and blonde hair. If he does, then, yes, she was very beautiful. Eyes like silver. A fine, young, firm body.”
“If she was very beautiful, and he was very angry, ah, well, then, it might well be dangerous,” Crazy Horse said with a hint of humor. “I hope that Dark Mountain chooses to go to see Hawk to help give his father’s body up to his god. Dark Mountain will be able to tell us about the woman.”
“Well, if she is Lady Douglas, perhaps Hawk will be bringing her here.”
“What white woman will come here?” Crazy Horse demanded.
Blade shrugged, grinning at his brother. “She has already been attacked by Indians.”
“Perhaps he will bring her. I would like to see a blonde woman who can fight like a Crow,” Crazy Horse said.
He passed his pipe then, speaking about their need to be close to Wakan Tanka, to keep in deep association with the White Buffalo Woman who had taught them all things. Soon after, Blade and Ice Raven left him again, to return to the home of their sister. They had agreed to form a hunting party the following day.
When they were gone, Crazy Horse stood outside his tipi. He looked to the east and the west, the north and the south.
As far as he could see right now, the world was his. The river, the earth, the night sky, dotted with stars. It was a beautiful time of year. The nights were growing cooler. Fall would come, then winter. Winter was hard and harsh. Even then, he loved the landscape when he looked forever, and all that he saw was Sioux.
What he saw, he knew, was a lie. For just within the hills, the white men lived. They’d come so quickly! They were madmen over gold!
Custer, he thought with aggravation. Custer had opened the way through the hills, Sa Papa. Custer, who fought the Indians. Who made Indians his scouts, mocked them, used them. Custer knew the Indians well. Knew that traditional enemies could be induced to prey upon one another.
So many army men in the West! When the white man had fought him, they had been weak. By the white way of war, the brave, wise men were kept in the East to fight one another. There were few men in the West who fought well then, who could be respected.
But the white war was long over now. More and more men came with the army to protect the settlers. They came, like a wave of giant white worms, covering the plain.
He closed his eyes. He would ride against them. Fight them. He would not give up.
But for a moment, he felt a curious shudder. He was not afraid. He was not a coward. He knew Death, he had seen it many times. He would never die afraid.
