Savage Illusions

As the en­t­ran­ce flap was lif­ted, Jole­na saw an el­derly lady with wa­ist-length gray ha­ir and wrin­k­led fa­ce, bur­de­ned down with a be­a­uti­ful cow­hi­de de­co­ra­ted with ela­bo­ra­te dra­wings.

"These are for the da­ug­h­ter of Brown Elk," One Who Walks With A Limp sa­id, as she smi­led a to­ot­h­less smi­le up at Jole­na. "The lod­ge po­les, back rests, and in­ner li­ning for the te­pee li­es whe­re you will bu­ild yo­ur te­pee."

Jolena step­ped from the lod­ge and to­ok the bur­den from the slight, el­derly lady. "Thank you so much for do­ing this for me in the ab­sen­ce of my mot­her," she mur­mu­red. "It is so­met­hing I shall ne­ver for­get."

One Who Walks With A Limp nod­ded and bo­wed her he­ad humbly, then slowly lif­ted it and ga­zed at Brown Elk as he pla­ced a gen­t­le hand on her sho­ul­der. "It is with much joy that I ma­de this for yo­ur da­ug­h­ter,'' she mur­mu­red. "It was go­od to be sin­g­led out for such an ho­nor. Thank you, Brown Elk. It is as tho­ugh I was a yo­ung girl aga­in, ma­king my own lod­ge, for my own man. It was go­od… fe­eling yo­ung aga­in."

Brown Elk drew the wo­man in­to his arms and ga­ve her a ge­ne­ro­us hug. "You will al­ways be yo­ung in yo­ur he­art, and in my eyes," he sa­id.

When he eased her from his arms, she tur­ned and wal­ked away, lim­ping he­avily with each step.

Moon Flo­wer mo­ved qu­ickly to Jole­na's si­de and hel­ped re­li­eve her of so­me of the bur­den by ta­king one end of the cow­hi­de in­to her own arms. "Let us go and bu­ild the te­pee so that the dowry can be so­on pla­ced the­re," she sa­id, gi­ving Brown Elk a la­ug­hing smi­le.

Jolena ra­ised an eyeb­row, still not kno­wing exactly what this talk of a dowry was all abo­ut. "Yes, let's," she sa­id, la­ug­hingly wal­king away with Mo­on Flo­wer, clum­sily sha­ring the hi­de as they half stum­b­led along ac­ross the stam­ped-down gro­und of the vil­la­ge.

As he wat­c­hed Jole­na and Mo­on Flo­wer, Brown Elk smi­led and fol­ded his arms ac­ross his chest.

Spotted Eag­le wat­c­hed from his te­pee as Jole­na and Mo­on Flo­wer step­ped in­to the cen­ter of the vil­la­ge and be­gan erec­ting the lod­ge.

Then his ga­ze shif­ted as he lo­oked over at Brown Elk, won­de­ring what the dowry might amo­unt to, for he wan­ted to send over to his fat­her-in-law's lod­ge twi­ce the num­ber of gifts his bri­de's fat­her wo­uld pay his son-in-law.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Jolena had tri­ed to sle­ep but fo­und it im­pos­sib­le, so she'd spent the night pre­pa­ring the spe­ci­al me­al for Spot­ted Eag­le, with Mo­on Flo­wer gi­ving her hints in co­oking the sorts of me­ats that Jole­na was not fa­mi­li­ar with. The mor­ning sun was now splas­hing its gol­den light down the smo­ke­ho­le, and Jole­na's fat­her's dwel­ling smel­led ple­asant with frag­ran­ces of the best of fo­ods ta­ken from his fo­od supply, so­me cho­ice berry pem­mi­can, and the ton­gue and "boss ribs" of the buf­fa­lo, sa­id to be the most de­si­red parts by the Blac­k­fo­ot war­ri­ors.

"I see that my da­ug­h­ter is re­ady to ta­ke her of­fe­rings to the man who will so­on be her hus­band," Brown Elk sa­id, as he ca­me to the fi­re, yaw­ning and stret­c­hing. He ga­ve Mo­on Flo­wer a ple­asant smi­le and nod, then con­ti­nu­ed tal­king to Jole­na. "Spot­ted Eag­le su­rely has not ever had such a fe­ast as that which will be pla­ced be­fo­re him to­day."

Jolena tur­ned from her pre­pa­ra­ti­ons and ga­ve her fat­her a bright smi­le. "I've ne­ver be­en so ex­ci­ted," she sa­id, gi­ving her fat­her a he­arty hug. "Will I ac­tu­al­ly be­co­me Spot­ted Eag­le's wi­fe to­day? It isn't just one of my dre­ams?"

"If this is a dre­am, it is a go­od one, is it not?" Brown Elk sa­id, chuc­k­ling as he eased Jole­na from his arms. He re­ac­hed a hand to her brow and smo­ot­hed so­me lo­ose locks of her ha­ir back in pla­ce.

"Oh, yes," Jole­na sa­id, clas­ping her hands to­get­her be­hind her. "It is all so won­der­ful. But it is re­al, and so much bet­ter be­ca­use it is."

"The lod­ge you pre­pa­red for my son-in-law is han­d­so­me," Brown Elk sa­id, sit­ting down on a co­uch cus­hi­oned with soft pelts. "You ha­ve pla­ced yo­ur wed­ding at­ti­re in it al­re­ady?"

"Yes, fat­her," Jole­na mur­mu­red, wat­c­hing as Mo­on Flo­wer de­vo­tedly lad­led Brown Elk a lar­ge bowl of buf­fa­lo stew. "I am now re­ady to ta­ke the me­al to Spot­ted Eag­le. Do you think he will be awa­ke?"

Brown Elk ac­cep­ted the bowl of stew and a spo­on, then ga­ve Jole­na an amu­sed smi­le. "Will he be awa­ke?" he sa­id. "Da­ug­h­ter, I do­ubt he slept a wink all

night."

Jolena ner­vo­usly brus­hed her fin­gers thro­ugh her ha­ir, then no­ti­ced so­me sta­ins on her skirt that had splas­hed the­re whi­le she was co­oking. She tur­ned an­xi­o­usly to Mo­on Flo­wer. "Per­haps I'd best ta­ke a bath in the ri­ver and chan­ge clot­hes first," she sa­id.

"Your bath sho­uld be ta­ken just be­fo­re you chan­ge in­to yo­ur wed­ding at­ti­re," Mo­on Flo­wer softly sug­ges­ted. "You will then smell fresh and cle­an li­ke the ri­ver for yo­ur hus­band when you go to him la­ter, af­ter you mo­ve yo­ur te­pee be­yond the vil­la­ge, clo­se to the outer frin­ges of the fo­rest, whe­re you can ha­ve pri­vacy from prying he­arts and lis­te­ning ears."

"I must mo­ve the te­pee af­ter ha­ving ta­ken so long to erect it?" Jole­na as­ked, her eyeb­rows ra­ised in puz­zle­ment. "I ha­ve even go­ne many ti­mes thro­ugh the night to add wo­od to the fi­re, so that the te­pee wo­uld be warm and cozy when Spot­ted Eag­le went in­si­de. I wan­ted ever­y­t­hing to be per­fect. Why must I chan­ge it?"

"Moving in­to the mid­dle of the cir­c­le is con­si­de­red an ho­nor," Mo­on Flo­wer ex­p­la­ined. "Only im­por­tant pe­op­le bu­ild the mar­ri­age lod­ge in the cen­ter of the vil­la­ge. Next to his fat­her, Spot­ted Eag­le is the most im­por­tant per­son in this vil­la­ge. He will one day be chi­ef. You ha­ve erec­ted a won­der­ful lod­ge for him to show off to his pe­op­le. And the­re are ot­her re­asons for the lod­ge which you will dis­co­ver thro­ugh the day."

Jolena had felt that her ef­forts with the mar­ri­age te­pee had be­en was­ted. But now she un­der­s­to­od.

"Your war­ri­or sho­uld not be ma­de to wa­it much lon­ger for the me­al his wo­man has pre­pa­red for him," Brown Elk re­min­ded her. "Go to him, Jole­na. Ac­com­pany her the­re, Mo­on Flo­wer. Fill both yo­ur arms with plat­ters of fo­od for this man who will so­on be a hus­band."

Jolena nod­ded. Her he­art ham­me­red in­si­de her chest as she pla­ced her many of­fe­rings of fo­od in­to a bas­ket. Af­ter Mo­on Flo­wer had her own bas­ket fil­led, Jole­na and Mo­on Flo­wer left the te­pee. They step­ped out in­to a glo­ri­o­us mor­ning of co­ol, soft bre­ezes, a cle­ar, blue sky, and the songs of birds as they be­gan awa­ke­ning in the fo­rest be­yond.

Jolena wal­ked be­si­de Mo­on Flo­wer with a pro­udly lif­ted chin, ra­cing he­art, and trem­b­ling fin­gers, fe­eling many kno­wing eyes on her. She co­uld he­ar the hus­hed buz­zing of vo­ices as ever­yo­ne pus­hed clo­ser to ob­ser­ve the first sta­ges of the wed­ding ce­re­mony. Jole­na co­uld fe­el a hot blush ri­se to her che­eks as mo­re and mo­re pe­op­le pres­sed clo­ser, the chil­d­ren gig­gling.

Doing her best to ig­no­re her audi­en­ce, Jole­na set her eyes on Spot­ted Eag­le's te­pee. She felt her he­art do a flip-flop when she no­ti­ced that the en­t­ran­ce flap was open, held back by a yo­ung bra­ve.