Chapter 39
“It was enough,” the old shaman wheezed.
“Good,” I answered inanely. Had it not been for the inherent danger, this would have seemed a hazy dream.
“Your land boat is here,” Great Bull said, pointing behind me with his chin. “You are free to go on your way.”
“Great Bull,” I said, prompted by a sudden urge. “If I visit the village of the Pipe Stem after the winter snows are gone, will I be welcome?”
He considered the question for some time before replying. “It would be better to remain with your Yanube friends.” He urged his pony forward, leaving Carcajou to oversee my repossession of the wagon and safe conduct through the remainder of his column.
Now that the danger was past, I silently acknowledged the strong sexual attraction I felt for the striking warrior who rode beside my near wheel. Immediately I was shot through with a sensation of treachery.