Destiny Mine

DESTINY OURS

Kionee looked up to find Stalking Wolf watching her with a strange gleam in his eyes. “You are beautiful, Kionee,” he murmured.

She trembled. “Your words confuse me.”

Stalking Wolf drew a deep breath. “I hope you are a woman, Kionee,” he said. “I hunger to taste your lips, to hold you, to make you mine.” He heard her grasp in surprise.

“You must not speak such words!” she said. “It is forbidden. You must forget I am a woman beneath this mask and these male garments. You must forget your desire for me.”

“How can I do so, Konee? You are part of my destiny, as I am of yours. Will you touch lips with me?”

Kionee warmed from head to feet. “That is perilous.”

“All we do in life is filled with dangers and challenges.”

Kionee allowed him to pull her into his arms. She quivered in the flames that surrounded her as their mouths meshed and their bodies made contact. The kiss was long and deep and filled with powerful emotion.

He ended the kiss with reluctance and stared into her gaze of wonder and passion. “I love you, Kionee,” he said.

With daring boldiness, she smiled and answered him. “I love you, Stalking Wolf of the Cheyenne.”

Also by Janelle Taylor:

CHASE THE WIND
DESTINY’S TEMPTRESS
FIRST LOVE, WILD LOVE
FOLLOW THE WIND
FORTUNE’S FLAMES
GOLDEN TORMENT
KISS OF THE NIGHT WIND
THE LAST VIKING QUEEN
LOVE ME WITH FURY
MIDNIGHT SECRETS
PASSIONS WILD AND FREE
PROMISE ME FOREVER
SWEET, SAVAGE HEART
TAKING CHANCES
WHISPERED KISSES
WILD IS MY LOVE

The
Moondust and Madness
Series:
MOONDUST AND MADNESS
STARDUST AND SHADOWS
STARLIGHT AND SPLENDOR

The
Savage Ecstasy
Series:
SAVAGE ECSTASY
DEFIANT ECSTASY
FORBIDDEN ECSTASY
BRAZEN ECSTASY
TENDER ECSTASY
STOLEN ECSTASY
BITTERSWEET ECSTASY
FOREVER ECSTASY
SAVAGE CONQUEST

My husband, my hero, and research assistant,
Michael Taylor

My friend,
Joe Marshall,
who provided facts on weapons and
customs of the Plains
Indians and who is a talented writer, teacher,
craftsman, and special person.

R. W. Adamson,
who wrote “Kionee’s Destiny” poem and
made the “Kionee,
The Huntress” ceremonial mask from my novel.
Thanks for your talent and for your generosity.

September 1797

Big Horn Mountains

“I
T MUST BE DONE
on the next moon, my love.” Strong Rock told his grieving wife. “Kionee has seen the passings of five hot seasons, and
Atah
has given us no son. She is the oldest of our daughters; it is her duty, her sacred honor as a chosen one. It is the law of the Hanueva for her to take my place after my seasons are too many to provide for my family and to defend them and our people. If I lay ill or injured on my mat or if
Atah
calls me to Him while my hair is still dark as the night, she must step from behind Strong Rock and become as he was. We must do the marking ceremony for her to begin a walk on the
tiva
path as our Hunter-Guardian.”

Martay’s heart thudded in dread, though she had expected the bad news. “Forgive me, Strong Rock, for pushing no son from my body since our joining day. Four times I prayed to
Atah
for a boy to—” Her remaining words were choked off by sorrow and tears.

“Do not weep, Martay. If it is not the will of our Creator and Protector, He will give us a son before Kionee is sixteen summers and speaks her vows. The law of our
people must be obeyed, and we cannot survive without a son to bring us food and guard us from harm when our seasons are many on Mother Earth. I will tell the shaman to prepare for the ritual here at our sacred mountain before we travel to our camp for the cold season. After the changing ceremony, Kionee will wear the marks of a
tiva
on her hand and face and will no longer live as a female. She must learn to think, speak, and be as a man in all ways but mating. On her sixteenth summer, Kionee will make a shield from hides of buffalo I slay and a bow from wood gathered in the sacred medicine forest. When her weapons are ready, she will place a tipi-of-power next to mine. She will receive a ceremonial mask and sing the
tiva
prayer. After that moon passes she will ride, hunt, and meet in council with the men until we live only in her memory.”

“Unless she is taken from Mother Earth,” Martay added. “If we are attacked by enemies, she must ride and fight as a warrior and defender. I fear for her safety and survival if that dark sun rises.”

Strong Rock caressed his love’s damp cheek. “She will be trained well by Regim and the other
tivas
to face and win any challenge. They will teach Kionee all she must know to accept her rank and to become one of them. Do not forget the Crow shaman believes
Atah
’s eyes shined on Hanueva by placing the holy Medicine Wheel and Great Arrow in our land. He told his tribe to leave us in peace or they would anger the Creator and His spirit helpers who guard us. He fears our
tivas
have great power and magic and it is bad medicine to slay one. Kionee will be protected by that fear. No
tiva
has been captured or slain and unmasked by a Bird warrior or their allies, so the truth remains hidden from them. It is a good trick and must continue for our safety. Crow chiefs believe the shaman’s vision; they warn their bands to fight only Blackfoot, Lakotas, and Cheyenne, which
are many and strong—fierce and skilled enemies. To keep their pride uninjured, Bird warriors say to others they do not attack us because we are too weak and worthless for earning coups; they say it would be as if riding against women, children, and old ones. We cannot allow such insults to provoke us to prove they lie, for they are many and are experienced in countless battles.”

“What will happen when the shaman thes and his vision words are forgotten? What will happen if Crow cease to believe and fear them? Do you forget a few Bird warriors sneak raids on us in the hot season when we hunt buffalo on the grasslands in the great Basin of Thunder?”

“The foolish number small, Martay, and our protectors defeat them without provoking war or revenge. So it will be when Kionee is a
tiva.”

“We have traded many times with those called Cheyenne; to this season, they are no threat to us. But what of other Crow enemies or their friends who are not bound by the Bird shaman’s words?”

“They treat Hanueva as wind, as if they cannot see us. All know we do not ride against other tribes for coups or seek to steal their hunting grounds and possessions. All know we are too few and peaceful to be of help as an ally to any large band. Yet, all know we will defend our camp and families if attacked. Those who would be enemies do not want to lose warriors’ lives and weapons fighting those they see as weaklings. As with the Crow, others believe
Atah
gave us the sacred Medicine Wheel and Great Arrow and He dwells near them. Kionee will be safe in my shadow and at my side.”

“Will peace always blanket us, my cherished mate?”

“Only
Atah
sees into new suns. Do not blame yourself for bearing no son; that is for
Atah
to choose. You are a good wife, Martay. Your face is easy to look upon and
you give me great pleasure on our sleeping mat. You are skilled in all woman’s work. Our tipi is strong and warm. You have borne me four children and you teach them the best path to follow. It is a good deed for Kionee to become a
tiva,
so we must not fear or resist it. This has been our way since before we can remember, passed from father to son to son since Creator gave us life. He holds Kionee’s destiny in His hands. Until He calls her to Him, she will be our Hunter-Guardian. If it is to change, only
Atah,
the High Guardian, can do so.”

Martay grieved over the mother-daughter bond to be severed; it would be as if her little girl died. Kionee was her secret favorite—the child had been her shadow for five circles of the seasons. Her eldest child learned fast and helped with most chores, always willing and eager to do her best at any task. Kionee warmed her heart and made her smile or laugh many times each sun. When Martay tanned hides, cooked, or gathered food, water, and wood, Kionee handed her needed tools, fetched things to save her time, tended the three younger girls, and did other tasks. Kionee was learning to cook, learning which plants and berries to gather, and practicing with beadwork and sewing on small hides Strong Rock and Regim brought to her for that purpose.

Martay knew they would no longer share such times and joys after the marking ceremony. Kionee would be compelled to play boys’ games, learn boys’ tasks, do no girls’ work, and spend her suns and moons until sixteen with
tivas
in training for her new role in life. Instead of awls, fleshers, beads, and babies, Kionee’s hands would hold a bow, arrows, knife, lance, shield, and game. Instead of showing her beauty and gentleness, Kionee would conceal them and behave with the dignity and reserve of a man.

Martay wondered if her own mother had felt these same conflicting emotions when Regim became a
tiva
for their family. It was odd, Martay admitted, but she thought of her older sister as a man, as she could not recall Regim’s feminine side. Would it come to be the same with Kionee? At that agonizing moment, she did not believe it would. Yet, on the next moon, the little girl sleeping nearby would be lost to her; and unbidden resentment nibbled at the distressed mother’s heart and mind.

Martay scolded herself for wishing it was one of her other three girls who would travel the
tiva
path. Perhaps, she fretted, she was being punished for feeling more love and pride for one child than the others. It tormented her to think of perils Kionee would face on the hunt and in possible battles, as a female’s strength and stamina—no matter how well honed—were never equal to a man’s. Yet, no female had refused to accept her
tiva
role. She could not think of a single one who did not seem proud of and happy in that new destiny. All she could do was hope and pray it would be the same for Kionee, as she could not bear to see her beloved child unhappy.

As if his thoughts journeyed in a similar direction, Strong Rock said, “Soon Kionee must move her sleeping mat to the
tiva
tipi. She has many things and ways to toss aside, and many to gather and learn. The daughter of Strong Rock will become a great hunter, and a great warrior if that dark season comes. Strong Rock’s seed must never dishonor our family or defy our customs. It will be done as
Atah
and our law command.”

Martay sighed deeply, then gave her husband a sad smile. “Yes, Strong Rock; it will be done as
Atah
and our law command. I will do my best to make the change easy and fast for her.”
And for me.