Wolf Shadow by Madeline Baker

of
it now and he broke out in a cold sweat as he waited for the touch of the flame
against his skin.
    “ Oochia !” Blackbird-in-the-Morning’s quavery voice
rose above the shouts of the crowd.
    The man with the torch fell silent as the old woman stepped
forward.
    Chance sucked in a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as the
old woman spoke. He didn’t know much of the Crow language but he caught the
word chilee, husband, and the word baanistaache , slave.
    The man who had captured Chance strode forward and there was
a rapid exchange between the warrior and the old woman. The warrior looked
thoughtful for a moment and then he nodded. He spoke to the crowd and they
gradually dispersed until only Winter Rain and Blackbird-in-the-Morning
remained.
    The old woman spoke to Winter Rain. Withdrawing a knife from
her belt, the old woman handed it to Winter Rain, then turned and made her way
back to her lodge.
    Winter Rain knelt beside Chance and began cutting his hands
and feet free.
    “What was that all about?” he asked.
    “I told Blackbird-in-the-Morning that you were my husband,
that you were a brave warrior among the Lakota, and that you did not deserve to
die without a chance to defend your honor.”
    “And they let me live on her say-so?”
    Winter Rain paused, wondering how much to tell him. “She is
a medicine woman, very holy. Come.” She slid her arm under his shoulder. “We
must tend your wounds.”
    His gaze probed hers. “What aren’t you telling me?”
    “You will be her slave until you have recovered your
strength.”
    “And then?”
    “You will fight the warrior who captured you. If you win,
you will be his slave.”
    “And if I lose?”
    “If you lose, the warriors will finish what they started.”
    “Guess I’d better win then,” he muttered.
    With her help, he managed to gain his feet. Blood ran down
his thigh from the gash in his leg, dripped from the wounds in his shoulder and
chest.
    Winter Rain slipped her arm around his waist and they walked
toward the old woman’s lodge.
    Blackbird-in-the-Morning was waiting for them inside. She
had a fire going in the pit; the scent of sage filled the air. She gestured at
the robe spread in the rear of the lodge. With a weary sigh, Chance sank down
onto the warm fur. Winter Rain hovered at his side while
Blackbird-in-the-Morning tended his wounds.
    The old woman’s gnarled hands were surprisingly gentle as
she washed and dressed the cuts. Then, chanting softly, she picked up a small
tortoise-shell rattle and shook it over his head and body four times. Still
chanting softly, she put the rattle aside and passed her hands through the
sage-scented smoke, drawing it toward him while Winter Rain stroked his brow,
her eyes filled with concern.
    The chanting, the smoke, and Winter Rain’s gentle touch
soothed him to sleep.
    Winter Rain looked at Blackbird-in-the-Morning. “ Will he
be all right ?”
    The old woman nodded. “ He is not bad hurt . Sleep
now .”
    It was then that Winter Rain realized Wolf Shadow was
stretched out on her sleeping robes, and that, as his “wife”, she was expected
to lie beside him.
    A short time later, Blackbird-in-the-Morning signed that it
was time for bed.
    There was nothing for Winter Rain to do but obey. Sitting
down, she removed her moccasins, then lifted a corner of the robe and slid
under it, careful not to touch Wolf Shadow, who was sleeping soundly.
    The fire burned down low. Winter Rain stared into the
darkness, acutely aware of the man who lay beside her clad in nothing but a
breechclout. Closing her eyes, she was careful to keep as much space as
possible between them.
    She didn’t remember falling asleep but she woke with a
start, instantly aware that it was morning and that she was in a strange place,
in a strange bed. And then she felt the weight of Wolf Shadow’s head on her
shoulder, the warmth of his skin against her arm, and she knew what had
awakened her.
    Lying perfectly still so as not to disturb him, she