Page 66 of The Last Warrior

“Waste,” said Black Lion. “Did the man announce who he was?”

“Hiya, no.”

“Very well. Go tell him I will come to see him as soon as this performance is done.”

“Han, han. I go. I tell…him.”

No sooner had Rabbit Leggings turned to leave than Black Lion was leading the pony—with Suzette on it—back before the crowd.

“What was that all about?” she asked.

“I hardly know,” Black Lion replied. “But I will discover it forthwith, I suspect.”

Suzette might have responded, but it seemed inappropriate at the moment, for no sooner had they both stepped foot into the arena than the people in the stands went riotous with their praise. Most were standing, some were waving and smiling at them.

Suzette waved back, blowing kisses aimed at the crowd, while, having stopped at the midpoint in the arena, Black Lion stood immobile by her side.

She said, “You could raise a hand and wave too.”

“You are doing very well for both of us.”

“Someone has to give them a show and accept their accolades.”

“Then I am glad it is you. Will you come to my lodge tonight, after the Long-haired Show Man’s party? We need to speak on this matter between us at length, and I think it should be soon.”

“No, I will not.”

“Say yes, you will.”

“I will not.”

“Then I will kiss you, here, before them all.” He grinned slightly. “Let the Long-haired Show Man explain that.”

Even as he said it, he had begun to turn the pony around so they might take a bow for the people on the opposite side of the stands.

“I will not be blackmailed,” she said. “How dare you try to do so!”

“And I will enjoy kissing you.” As he swung the pony around, he stepped toward her. He even reached up as though to take hold of her.

“Very well. You make your point. But I will not come to speak to you until after the party is well finished. So do not wait up for me.”

He smiled. “I will wait for you all the same.” At last, grinning madly, he too waved at the crowd.

Black Lion trod back into the Indian encampment and, stepping toward his canvas-covered lodge, saw a stranger awaiting him. Whoever it was, Black Lion had a good feeling about this. Thus, it did not completely startle him to discover it was White Claw, medicine man of the Lost Clan.

Though it was true Black Lion was surprised by the visit—for he did not realize White Claw had the ability to move between the realms of both realities—as was the way of his people, Black Lion kept the emotion carefully concealed. Instead of an enthusiastic welcome, after climbing into his tepee, Black Lion stepped to the left of the lodge fire and took his place next to White Claw, acting like this might be a most commonplace meeting. Two Bears and Rabbit Leggings, as though by a previous agreement, arose and left the lodge.

After several moments of solemn appreciation elapsed, Black Lion said in the Sioux tongue, “Hepela—hepela! I am joyful to see you.”

White Claw nodded. Then the old medicine man took hold of his pipe and lit it, offering up the pipe’s smoke as a prayer first to the Sky, then to the Earth and lastly to the Four Winds. Only then did White Claw inhale a puff from the pipe, extending it afterward to Black Lion.

Black Lion accepted the gift, drew in a breath from the pipe and gave it back to White Claw, where the elder placed it in a position of honor before him. Such was the ceremony which attended all councils. After it was done, White Claw spoke for the first time since Black Lion had entered the lodge. His words were in the Blackfeet tongue, the language of the Lost Clan. “Issohka, Grandson, it is good to see you. I am pleased to witness you have grown into a fine man.”

“My heart is also happy to see you, Aaahs, Grandfather. It has been many years since we last spoke. I have missed my people.”

“This is to be expected.”

“Do you bring news? Are my father and mother well?”