Savage Illusions

"Yes," Mo­on Flo­wer mur­mu­red. "Ever­y­t­hing to­day is abo­ut yo­ur mar­ri­age. And sin­ce you ha­ve no Blac­k­fo­ot mot­her, I will ta­ke her pla­ce."

"You will?" Jole­na sa­id, her eyes wi­de­ning. "You wo­uld do this for me?"

"It is not only for you, but al­so Brown Elk," Mo­on Flo­wer sa­id softly. "It is my way of sa­ying thank-you for his kin­d­ness to Mo­on Flo­we­rand yo­urs."

Guilt mo­men­ta­rily tug­ged at Jole­na's he­art for ha­ving do­ub­ted Mo­on Flo­wer's ho­nesty for a short whi­le. But wrap­ped up in the ex­ci­te­ment of the day, she cast the­se fe­elings asi­de and al­lo­wed her­self to fe­el won­der­ful over fi­nal­ly re­ali­zing her plans to marry the man she lo­ved. The­re was no do­ubt what­so­ever in her he­art over her de­ci­si­on to stay in the Blac­k­fo­ot vil­la­ge, to be one of them.

Everything lo­oked so bright.

The fu­tu­re lo­oked so pro­mi­sing.

How co­uld she fe­el an­y­t­hing but bles­sed?

Euphoric, she lis­te­ned raptly as Mo­on Flo­wer be­gan ex­p­la­ining what must be do­ne to pre­pa­re her for her wed­ding day to­mor­row.

"First, Jole­na, you must mo­ve in­to yo­ur fat­her's lod­ge," Mo?

?on Flo­wer sa­id, softly fol­ding her arms ac­ross her bre­asts.

Jolena blus­hed, ho­ping no one, es­pe­ci­al­ly her Blac­k­fo­ot fat­her, saw her as sha­me­ful for ha­ving spent her nights with Spot­ted Eag­le.

But she knew that Spot­ted Eag­le wo­uldn't ha­ve en­co­ura­ged it had he tho­ught that it wo­uld da­ma­ge her re­pu­ta­ti­on in the eyes of his pe­op­le. She had ne­ver ta­ken the ti­me to worry abo­ut it, for de­ep in her he­art she had known that they wo­uld al­re­ady ha­ve be­en mar­ri­ed had the­re not be­en so many ob­s­tac­les in the way.

In her he­art, mind, and so­ul she was al­re­ady his wo­man­his wi­fe.

The ce­re­mony was ne­ces­sary only to for­ma­li­ze it.

"I lo­ok for­ward to spen­ding this spe­ci­al ti­me with my fat­her," Jole­na fi­nal­ly sa­id.

"While the­re, you will se­lect the cho­icest parts of the me­at from yo­ur fat­her's lod­ge," Mo­on Flo­wer sa­id softly. "You will co­ok the­se things in the best style, and in the com­pany of Mo­on Flo­wer you will go to Spot­ted Eag­le's lod­ge and pla­ce the fo­od be­fo­re him. He will eat it. Then you will ta­ke the dis­hes, and we will re­turn to yo­ur fat­her's lod­ge. Ever­yo­ne in the vil­la­ge who se­es you car­rying the fo­od in a co­ve­red dish to Spot­ted Eag­le's lod­ge will know that a mar­ri­age is to ta­ke pla­ce."

"And then what el­se do I do?" Jole­na as­ked an­xi­o­usly, thril­ling in­si­de to ac­tu­al­ly be tal­king abo­ut her mar­ri­age to Spot­ted Eag­le. That ma­de it so very re­al! Not­hing wo­uld stop it now. The­re was only to­day, to­night, and then to­mor­row it was to hap­pen!

She was so ex­ci­ted, she co­uld hardly sit still any lon­ger. But she knew that she must lis­ten to all of Mo­on Flo­wer's te­ac­hings to­day. The­se we­re per­haps the most im­por­tant les­sons of all as she tur­ned her­self over to the Blac­k­fo­ot way of li­fe.

"If yo­ur mot­her we­re ali­ve, she wo­uld ma­ke you a new lod­ge, com­p­le­te with new po­les," Mo­on Flo­wer sa­id. Her vo­ice was fil­led with com­pas­si­on as she re­mem­be­red lis­te­ning to her own mot­her tell the ta­le of Swe­et Do­ve and how she had di­ed gi­ving birth to a child that no one had ever fo­und. It se­emed a mi­rac­le that he­re be­fo­re Mo­on Flo­wer sat this child who was now a wo­man.

How won­der­ful it wo­uld ha­ve be­en if Swe­et Do­ve co­uld ha­ve li­ved to see her da­ug­h­ter mol­ded in­to so­me­one as be­a­uti­ful and swe­et as Jole­na, and to see the man she was to marry! No mot­her co­uld ha­ve be­en mo­re pro­ud. She wo­uld ha­ve ma­de the cow­hi­de lod­ge with eager, happy fin­gers, as her he­art sang and her eyes dan­ced.

"And sin­ce she is not ali­ve?" Jole­na mur­mu­red. "Who then ma­kes the lod­ge for me?"

"Your fat­her ap­po­in­ted one of the wo­men of the vil­la­ge many days ago to ma­ke the lod­ge," Mo­on Flo­wer sa­id, smi­ling at Jole­na. "It is a han­d­so­me one that you will be ple­ased to erect in the midst of the vil­la­ge for all to see. It will be a lod­ge yo­ur fat­her will be ple­ased with as his dowry is pla­ced the­re."

"My fat­her's… dowry?" Jole­na sa­id, gas­ping softly. "Wha­te­ver might it be?"

"It is not for Mo­on Flo­wer to say," Mo­on Flo­wer sa­id, la­ug­hing softly.

Spotted Eag­le sat op­po­si­te the fi­re from Brown Elk, sta­ring ac­ross the fla­mes at his fu­tu­re fat­her-in-law, fe­eling hum­b­le in the pre­sen­ce of such a gre­at and ho­no­rab­le el­der as he.

Brown Elk ro­se and bro­ught his be­a­uti­ful­ly de­co­ra­ted pi­pe with its long stem over to Spot- ted Eag­le and han­ded it to him, to par­ta­ke of a smo­ke with him.

Brown Elk wa­ited un­til Spot­ted Eag­le was blo­wing smo­ke from his mo­uth, then to­ok the pi­pe back and aga­in sat down be­fo­re the fi­re op­po­si­te his fu­tu­re nis-ah­son-in-law.

"You ha­ve co­me to spe­ak of my da­ug­h­ter?" Brown Elk sa­id, cros­sing his legs at his an­k­les and res­ting the bowl of his pi­pe on one of his kne­es.

"That is so," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, nod­ding.

"The ti­me is go­od for a mar­ri­age," Brown Elk sa­id, smi­ling at Spot­ted Eag­le. "You will ma­ke a fi­ne son-in-law. I gladly gi­ve my da­ug­h­ter to you, even tho­ugh I ha­ve not had her long myself. I trust you will al­low this el­der to sha­re his da­ug­h­ter who will so­on be­co­me yo­ur wi­fe? I will be the first to know of the gro­wing of a child wit­hin my da­ug­h­ter's womb? I will be se­cond to you to hold my gran­d­c­hild on­ce it is born?"