War Bringer, The Red Team Series, Book 6 (Red Team #6)

“I warn you, it is not a short story.”


She nodded and sniffled. “The longer the better. It’ll take my mind off where we are and what’s going to happen next.”

“So, it goes like this. My grandfather’s grandfather’s grandfather lived in Iceland,” he began.

She looked up at him. “Your great-great-great-great-grandfather.”

He smiled. “I’ll just call him my grandfather. To his eyes, Iceland was a land of unimaginable beauty. In the long winters, his favorite colors were everywhere he looked: blue and white. At night, the sky would come alive with shimmering colors of green, pink, and purple. His people said that fairies were practicing the colors they would paint the land come spring. And indeed, when spring came and the land woke up, the fairies always outdid themselves, washing fields and hills and valleys with colors so rich that you didn’t just see them—you felt them; you breathed them.”

“Is it really that beautiful there?”

Kelan shook his head. “My words don’t come close to doing it justice. When I was a kid, my family visited our extended family there every year.”

She gently sniffled.

He quickly continued. “The elders in my grandfather’s village felt it would be best if he made a journey around the world so that he could see all of its beauty. He agreed. His journey took him more than a decade. He’d grown from a boy to a man during the time he was gone. He’d seen many wondrous things on his travels. But he had a new yearning that could not be ignored. He longed for a lifemate.

“On his way home, he traveled up through the Dakotas here in the U.S. One day, he came upon a scene unfolding in the woods that would forever change his life—and the lives of all of his descendants. There was a huge black bear whose paw was clamped in the jaws of a trap. A woman was nearby collecting berries. She heard the bear’s howl of pain. Instead of running away, she hurried toward him. My grandfather rushed to intercept her, but he was a long way away. She got to the bear before my grandfather could get near her.

“The woman eased closer to the beast. He stood on his hind legs, one of his front paws still caught in the trap, and roared and swiped the long claws of his other paw at her. To my grandfather’s shock, the woman began to sing. Her song must have reached the bear’s spirit—as it did his own—for the bear sat down and just groaned at her.

“My grandfather stayed hidden in the tree cover, fearing his sudden appearance might further enrage the bear. He had his rifle and was prepared to shoot the beast should the foolish woman try to help him, but he couldn’t because she put herself between him and the bear as she moved forward to do the very thing he feared she would.

“She reached the trap. She sang her song as she sprang it free. The steel teeth pulled out of the bear’s paw. He stood on his hind legs and roared a terrible sound. She stayed kneeling before him, her head bowed. My grandfather shouldered his rifle and sighted the bear, but before he pulled the trigger, he saw the woman spill her cache of berries out for the bear to eat.

“When he began to eat, the woman stood and walked away. The bear followed her when he was done eating, and my grandfather followed the bear to where the woman was at the river. He watched as she cut long strips of leather from her skirt. She collected various plants, heated them over a campfire, then mixed them with moss. Again she approached the bear, singing the song that was her gift to him. Again he let her near. She wrapped the poultice around his paw and tied it in place with the thongs she’d cut.

“For seven days and seven nights, she treated his paw and brought him fish and berries. When my father woke on the eighth morning, the woman was alone. The bear had gone.

“My grandfather couldn’t believe she’d survived tending the bear. He decided to approach her. He had to know her name, had to touch her to see if she was real. Before he could get to her, two white men came forward. They were angry with her for setting the bear free. They fought with her.

“The woman who braved the worst nature had to offer was about to be destroyed by men. My grandfather came out of his hiding place and fought them. The Bear Paw Woman ran away. The men chased after her, but the bear she’d saved chased them and mauled them to death. He turned to my grandfather, stood and roared, clawed the air with his healing paw, then ambled off into the woods.

“My grandfather tracked the Bear Paw Woman to her village. Angry warriors who thought he was one of the men who’d attacked her immediately surrounded him. He was brought before the chief. He couldn’t speak much Lakota and the chief couldn’t speak much English. A warrior was summoned to translate for them. My grandfather told the chief about the Bear Paw Woman’s bravery. He said that he was in love in with her and wanted to marry her, if she was a free woman.

“The chief told my grandfather that the Bear Paw Woman was his daughter and that she had refused to marry any of the braves he presented to her, even when they offered twice the bride price he sought. He summoned the Bear Paw Woman and asked if she had ever seen this man. My grandfather finally got a close look at the woman. Her skin was a soft color of honey, so much warmer than his own white skin. Her eyes were dark and big, so different from his blue ones. Her hair was long and black, shiny like wet tar, unlike his own, which was the color of corn silk. They were night and day, sun and moon, and utterly complete together.

“The chief had been close to forcing her to decide among her suitors. With my grandfather’s arrival in the village, and his daughter’s reaction to him, he decided to let my grandfather stay with them while he considered the matter.

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