Chapter 2

Chief Soaring Falcon, leader of the Lakota tribe to which Dark Horse belonged, sat silently regarding the brave as they sat in his tipi. His wife, Day Star, served them tea, then quietly sat off to the side, repairing a pair of the chief’s leggings.

It had been two days since the strange encounter with the Kiowa and the shared slaughter of the bison. Since he’d heard the story from several of the hunting party, he knew that Dark Horse wasn’t lying to him. Dark Horse’s strict moral code would never allow him to lie. Besides, they had the bison meat and hides to prove that the event had truly occurred.

“How old did you say this medicine man was?” he asked.

Dark Horse said, “Perhaps fifteen or sixteen winters old. I spoke with a couple of the Kiowa braves. They said that the boy called the bison the night before.”

Soaring Falcon grunted. “A boy medicine man calling bison. I have been thinking about this, and I would like to meet this boy.”

Dark Horse’s eyes widened. “Meet him?”

“Yes. I am very curious. Did you speak with him?” Soaring Falcon asked.

“No. I was too busy with the bison and making sure we got out of there alive.”

The chief nodded. “I see. You will go to their village and ask this boy to come see me.”

Dark Horse inhaled a little of his tea in surprise and coughed. “What?”

Soaring Falcon played with the bear tooth necklace that hung around his neck. “You heard me. Take them some gifts and assure them that the boy will not meet with any harm.”

It always amazed Dark Horse how their chief issued seemingly impossible orders as though carrying them out was the easiest thing in the world.

“They will not let us enter their village again. Their sentries will be even more watchful now. If it were not for the bison distracting them, they would have fought much harder,” Dark Horse said.

His dark eyes sparkling with mischief, Soaring Falcon said, “You and Rushing Bull will go by yourselves. Two braves are not very threatening to fierce Kiowa warriors. Take gifts for their chief, his wife, and the boy. What did you call him?”

“Chirping Cricket.”

Soaring Falcon chuckled. “Sounds more like a girl’s name. Is he winkte?”

Dark Horse fought down his frustration, knowing that becoming angry wasn’t the way to handle Soaring Falcon. “I do not know. I know nothing about the boy.”

Soaring Falcon aimed a hard look at the war leader. “Then you will bring him here to me so I may speak with him.”

The stony expression on the chief’s face told Dark Horse that the matter was closed and that he was expected to successfully complete the mission. There were some days when he almost wished that he wasn’t one of his vast tribe’s most trusted war leaders. This was one of those days.

“Yes, Chief.” He gave Day Star a brief smile as he rose. “Thank you for the tea.”

“You are welcome.”

Dark Horse ducked out of the tipi, mentally grumbling to himself as he went in search of Rushing Bull. He wove his way around tipis and children, heading for the horse racing fields beyond their camp. If he knew his best friend, that’s where he’d be.

The scents of savory stews and roasting meat wafted on the air as he walked along. Children laughed quietly and conversation flowed all around him. He greeted people, stopping here and there to exchange pleasantries or to answer a question.

His temper cooled as he socialized, and he saw a few maidens send demure, appreciative glances his way. He pretended not to notice, but he smiled inside, enjoying their admiration. Dark Horse knew that his high status and good looks made him very desirable, but he hadn’t come across a maiden who completely captivated him yet.

If he didn’t within the next couple of years, Dark Horse would have to pick a maiden and start a family, but he preferred to find love if possible. Picking up his pace, he jogged out to the racing field. Horses of all colors galloped past a large group of braves, who yelled encouragement to their favorite riders. The thunder of their pounding hooves grew fainter as they raced farther away under the pale blue sky and bright sunlight.

As Dark Horse had thought, Rushing Bull was there, not racing, but negotiating bets and keeping track of them. Although Rushing Bull was a skilled horseman, he preferred taking and keeping track of bets instead of competing. He was addicted to the rush of gambling, even if he wasn’t betting at the time.

Dark Horse caught his friend’s eye and waited for him to finish a transaction. He did a double-take when he saw his sister, Three Deer, gallop by on one of his finest ponies. Before he could shout at her to stop, Rushing Bull jumped in front of him.

“Leave her be. She has been winning all morning. Very nice things, too. Things that your mother will enjoy,” Rushing Bull said, grinning.

Dark Horse pointed at his sister’s retreating back. “She is not to be out here! Why do you encourage her? She should be with the other women, not racing!”

“Why do you try to push her into doing those things when she is not good at them? I thought her venison stew last week was going to kill me. I had diarrhea for three days after I ate it,” Rushing Bull said.

Dark Horse couldn’t contain a laugh. “I remember. I was wise and did not eat any. She will never become good at these things if she does not practice. How will she ever find a husband if she cannot keep a home?”

Rushing Bull said, “Perhaps there is a man out there who appreciates her just as she is.”

His tone of voice made Dark Horse’s gaze sharpen on him. “Has someone expressed an interest in her without consulting me? They will answer to me! With our father gone, it is my responsibility to see her properly married and to make sure no man behaves improperly towards her.”