Chapter 13“I see you, River Otter.”
I peered at the indistinct, backlit figure. “Dull Lance?”
“Aye.” The warrior gave a shaky openhanded salute and moved into the building.
“I am surprised to see you. I thought you and your band had returned home, or at least moved to a winter camp to the south.”
“Would that we had.” His breath sounded labored.
“Are you in trouble?”
“Aye. My men are all dead, along with the two women who came to join us.”
“Come into the house where it is warmer and tell me what happened.”
Dull Lance staggered as he turned, but I resisted the impulse to lend a hand. This was a proud Sioux warrior in the prime of life who would not appreciate unwanted assistance. I judged him only about two or three years older than my forty-three snows.
Once inside, I seated the ne
