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council. Gradually all arose to return to their homes.
    The three in the middle of the circle, however, stood quietly, until the gathering had cleared.
    Tahiska glanced solemnly at his friends. “Tomorrow we will prepare to go, but tonight, Wahtapah, you must work quickly for your love. We may be away a long time, but perhaps she will wait for you if you are man enough. I will tell you what to do.” He smiled at his friend. “Do you think you can do it?”
    Wahtapah grinned. “I will try.”

Chapter Three
    Fort Leavenworth
    July 4, 1833
    The sun had scarcely been up an hour. The grass was still glistening with dew. The scents of early morning and of breakfast permeated the air.
    Kristina brushed her forearm over her brow, her hand gripping the musical tuning fork. She was glad she had already consumed her morning meal. This tuning of the piano was requiring more time then she had anticipated. Soon the fort would come alive with soldiers and traders. She would like to have the piano tuned before it became too crowded.
    She was seated at the piano in the open air, on an erected, foot-high platform. As with most young women her age, Kristina had been taught music at a young age. But while others played only at small, quiet gatherings, Kristina openly defied convention and played with the cavalry band.
    The piano had been moved out of the church last night and set here at the head of the main courtyard, but she’d had little opportunity to tune it last evening. Besides, she had justified to herself, it was better to let the piano sit overnight. The tuning might hold better.
    She worked as quickly as she could. Because it was the Fourth of July, there would be a grand celebration today and the piano was needed to fill in with the band, not only for the raising of the flag, but also for the party afterwards.
    She glanced toward the sun in irritation. Already she was warm and the day had just barely started.
    She leaned over the instrument, played a middle C, then a C one octave higher, turning the wooden peg till she was pleased with the sound. She hit the tuning fork once again and struck the two notes. Satisfied, she advanced to C sharp.
    The sound echoed through the fort, creating a hollow twang whose eerie song had never before been heard by the three pairs of Indian ears.
     
    Tahiska and his two companions were awake and alert long before the sun became a red orb in the eastern sky. The journey to the soldier fort took usually a full moon, but the three young warriors, anxious for revenge, had traversed the distance in three weeks, traveling into the night by horse and sleeping little.
    Tahiska’s heart was saddened still, and though anger coursed through his veins, he couldn’t deny that there was something exciting about this day. Perhaps he would meet his own death today. Perhaps. But he did not think so. Something important was to happen. He knew it. He could feel it. He had felt it even as he hunted and ate a breakfast of berries and fresh meat. Yes, today was a good day.
    The three young warriors had prepared themselves earlier in the morning and had washed in a creek close by, praying to Wakan Tanka, the God of all, for courage and bravery in the face of an enemy they had yet to meet.
    Tahiska had formulated his plans well. He did not intend to wage his war against the entire fort. Though his emotions urged him to kill any white person available for atonement, logic would not allow such a thing. And he schooled himself to think clearly. He would kill the two who had committed the crime and none else. Such was the courtesy he would show the white man. And it was for this reason that he and his friends would not wear the customary war paint into the fort. Only after he had singled out the two murderers would he prepare for battle.
    No, first he would meet with their chief and ask for the murderers to be turned over to his own party. If this failed, and he had no way of anticipating the actions of the white people,