Rising Wolf had said straight out and bluntly, "You can't bring her in," when Hazard told him he was bringing Blaze to council.
"She wants to, and I'll bring her," Hazard had replied.
"They'll crucify her," Rising Wolf said wildly, looking at Hazard as if he'd suddenly gone mad.
"No one will remark on her presence or they answer to me. You can pass that information along."
"Damnation, Hazard," he groaned in despair. "She's a woman!" Rising Wolfs glance was tender. He was an old friend whose favorite companion appeared to have lost his senses.
"She'll sit beside me tonight," Hazard responded, his gaze clear and untroubled. "Tell them."
"Are you sure it's all right?" Blaze asked one last time before they left their lodge that evening, aware of the etiquette involved.
"It's fine," Hazard cryptically replied, his smile disarming. There were sure to be objections, but he was willing to put up with them. "A chief is the consequence not only of the individual merit of his coups,18 but also recognized for his medicine and his accomplishments for the clan. You prove your courage in battle and your fortitude in situations that try the heart of a man. And that capacity allows you to lead and govern.
"In theory, it's not a hereditary position, and the clans are democratically organized," Hazard reflected, "but family's important. In our variety of communal living," he continued, "a large and rich family ensures one's own prosperity.19 In fact, the greatest insult you can direct at a person is to call him an akin" hawe, a person without relatives. Although my mother and father died last year, I still have a network of relatives, all supportive. In addition, my medicine has allowed me much success on raids. And the gold from the mine, the more prescient of the council realize, will ensure our survival. I am considered a kon-ning, 'a man that knows and can,' so"—he smiled—"you see, bia-cara, in the aristocracy of batse' tse, or chiefs, I'm able to do damn near anything I want."
"That, dear, is a source of both great joy and vexation to me—that predilection of yours." Blaze's smile was mockingly deprecating.
"Similar feelings have crossed my mind on occasion, too, puss." He tapped her lightly on the nose. "Your father indulged you much too much."
"And you find me unattractive?"
He grinned. "Not altogether."
"How reassuring."
"One small assurance for me, love, if you don't mind. In council, if you would refrain from outright ordering me about, my dignity would be preserved."
"You mean I can't drag you away when I feel an unaccountable urge to make love to you?"
"It might be embarrassing. We warriors are supposed to be above such frivolous emotions while in council."
"And are you?"
"Hell no," he said with a grin. "Another discredited theory, but we keep up the fiction for reasons of self-interest."
"I promise not to embarrass you in council," Blaze declared with mock solemnity.
"What a relief," Hazard teasingly responded, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "But you might consider winking at me discreetly when you take such a notion and I'll immediately recall some crisis that requires my attention."
"Resourceful."
"So I've been told." One look at Blaze's nettled expression and he hurriedly added, his smile broad, "By friends, love, only friends."
So Blaze sat through two council meetings in the following week, but she understood very little of the language and nothing of the nuance. Hazard was, despite his assurances, more formal at the public meetings; after the second lengthy session, Blaze chose to stay at the lodge during future councils.
Red Plume, Hazard's young nephew, was chosen to guard her. With Spirit Eagle present in council, Hazard wasn't alarmed about leaving Blaze alone, but it never hurt to be cautious, and Red Plume was good entertainment for Blaze. He was teaching her how to handle a bow and arrow.
The first meeting Blaze was absent from, Hazard asked the assembled chiefs whether any had been approached by Colonel Braddock. He explained the cir-cumstances of the Colonel's pilgrimage into the mountains and through various replies was able to trace Billy Braddock's progress up to his meeting with the Sore Lip Clan near Dog Creek. After that, no one had seen him. "Where's his guide?" Hazard inquired, searching for more specific details after the Colonel's last sighting.
"Gone to see his Shoshone wife's relatives."
"When did he leave?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe ten days ago."
About the time, Hazard thought, when he'd first heard the rumors of a yellow eyes death north of the Clearwater Mountains. "Gone for the summer, then." Hazard knew the distance involved. The guide and his family could be absent a long time. "If anyone hears of Colonel Braddock, let me know," he advised them, but in his own mind, he was more than half certain Blaze had lost her father. He'd check with One Heart's brother-in-law—if he could find him. His description of the man killed might tell him something.
The discussion turned to a raid in the planning. A scout had brought in news of Blackfeet traveling north with a herd of ponies cut from the Lakota south of the Yellowstone. It was agreed they'd leave before first light the following day.
As they were dispersing, Bold Ax, Raven Wing's father, touched Hazard's arm. "Walk with me," he said. He and Hazard strolled toward the river, talking of the coming raid, exchanging gossip about mutual friends, recalling their years of friendship; following the preliminary protocol to a discussion Hazard wished he could avoid. But courtesy forbade his evasion. "You've known Blue Flower since she was a baby," Bold Ax said, broaching the subject prompting his invitation for a walk.
"Yes, she was always my wife's favorite sister."
"She's been a woman now for over a year and has refused two marriage offers." Hazard only waited, wondering how to offend the least. "You know our customs allow a man to marry his wife's sisters."
"She's young," Hazard quietly replied. "Perhaps at this encampment she might find—"
"She speaks only of you."
Hazard stopped, indicated a grassy plot on the bank of the river and suggested, "Sit with me." For a quiet moment, they both looked out over the placidly flowing river under the twilight sky capricious with magenta. When Hazard spoke, his voice was as calm as the water before them. "I'm honored, Bold Ax, with your daughter's regard. Her sister, whom I loved, brought much happiness to me. I've always felt the welcome of your family. It wouldn't be right now for me to accept the feelings Blue Flower offers me, that you offer me. The yellow eyes woman is bua to me and I care for her. Please try to tell Blue Flower the way of my heart. Perhaps at another time, it might have been possible."
"You can have more than one wife."
"In my heart, I can't."
"You're young, and even as a child, you were ungovernable." Bold Ax said it with affection. "A yellow eyes wife can bring many problems. The heart can change. I speak as your father would."
"Perhaps, but my spirit dictates over a sterner logic. Thank Blue Flower for the warmth of her affection."
"She's going to be disappointed."
Hazard smiled. "At her age, she'll forget in a few days."
Bold Ax placed his broad palm on Hazard's knee and smiled back. "You're probably right; I hope you're right. Good luck on the raid tomorrow," he said, rising.
"The Blackfeet should be tired. I don't expect problems."
After Bold Ax departed, Hazard sat watching the river flow by. It was comforting to realize that this river had been crossing Absarokee hunting ground since before they had horses. He knew, his eyes unfocused on the clear water passing before him, that six months ago he would have accepted Bold Ax's daughter in marriage. And he wondered, with the same nagging unease that prompted much of his musing, whether he'd taken a route in his life which would prove not only disastrous but deadly.
How great a fool was he to brazenly disregard convention by taking Blaze as his wife and standing up to a menacing conglomerate like Buhl Mining as well? A very large fool, he decided. A reckless, illogical fool, he thought. An enormously happy fool, he smilingly recognized, and in depth and breadth and intensity, the happiness diminished all else.
THAT night, before they fell asleep, Hazard told Blaze of the raid.
She didn't answer for so long, he thought she may have fallen asleep and not heard him. "Am I going to be a widow?" she inquired at last, sitting up and gazing down at him as directly and straightforwardly as she queried him. The summer moonlight streaming in through the opening at the peak bathed her in bright and shimmering silver, making her pale skin radiant. Though she trembled slightly in apprehension, she wanted to know; wanted to know how much danger and what kind, and how far he would be from her. She thought for a brief second of saying, "Don't go—please, for me," but refrained.
"Nope."
"I'm not a child, Hazard. I'd like the truth."
"It's only a raid for horses, love, not revenge." His hand touched her reassuringly, soothingly. "When we raid or 'cut' horses, it is a greater coup to accomplish it undetected, since that requires more finesse. We pride ourselves on finesse rather than brute force."
That simple statement explained to Blaze a great many pleasurable variables in Hazard's nature. "You're sure it's not dangerous."
"Positive."
"How far do you have to go?"
"Not far. The Blackfeet are slicing through the upper tangent of our territory on their way home. Maybe two hundred miles."
"That's close?"
"Damn close. If we strike out diagonally in the direction of their flight, we should overtake them in less than a day. We're the short side of the triangle and they have to wade the Bowstring at Ottertail Gap. It's the only way through the mountains there."
"Do women ever go on the raids?"
Hazard hesitated, wondering how much to tell her. If she came, it would present problems, since Spirit Eagle was in the party. Although women did go on some raids to cook for the men or help with the ponies, Hazard didn't think Blaze could keep up. If he told her that, however, she'd rise to the challenge immediately. He chose an answer that deviated marginally from the truth. "Not unless they're very safe."
"I thought you said this one was," she nervously replied.
He curled her small hand into his. "Basically it is," he calmly explained, "but the Blackfeet like to take scalps,20 and I'd hate to see yours on a Blackfoot lodge pole."
"What about yours?" she significantly asked.
"I can take care of myself, but if I had to guard you as well, it would halve both our chances."
"Do you have to go?" By this time Blaze's apprehensions were anxiously raised. It wasn't the innocuous expedition he'd initially suggested.
His answer was softly worded, but plain. "I want to."
The bright moonlight illuminated Blaze's face, drawn and serious. Tugging her close, he nestled her in his arms. "It's only two days, bia," he whispered into her soft hair. "Red Plume will keep you company." Touching her grave face with a gentle caress, he murmured, "I'll bring you a present."
"Don't try to bribe me with presents," Blaze protested, drawing herself up and resting on his chest, her chin perched on her crossed wrists, "when I have to spend two days wondering if I'll ever see you again."
"I'm not trying to bribe you. You probably own half of Montana by now with Buhl's larcenous instincts. I just mean I'll be thinking of you, that's all."
"Keep your mind on staying alive, Hazard, if you don't mind. That's all the gift I want."