Gray Hawk's Lady: Blackfoot Warriors, Book 1 (26 page)

Was it the air, she wondered, or was it the expansive feeling of being one with yourself and with the environment?

And it was while pondering that philosophical question that she fell asleep.

Chapter Seventeen

Her first view of the Indian camp was from the crest of a hill.

She stared at it for a long while, unable to believe the beauty of what she saw.

Set in a lush expanse of brown meadow, the village stretched out in a circle over what must have been an acre of land. There were well over a hundred tepees down there, some of the structures bleached white, some painted with blues, yellows and reds, the entire effect creating an illusion that the encampment was encircled by a rainbow.

The whole village sat next to a small lake, in which was reflected the deep blue of the sky. And though there were no trees nearby to mar this stretch of prairie, everywhere surrounding the camp were yellow sunflowers and an array of blue, violet and gold wildflowers.

To the south of the camp grazed a huge herd of horses, comfortably munching on the rich buffalo grass. To the north sprawled several rolling hills; to the east, a great expanse of brown prairie.

She and Gray Hawk stood downwind from the camp on its western side, and the smells of campfires, of cooking foods, of the fragrant scent of the prairie wildflowers, made her stomach growl. She inhaled the aromas deeply and, at the same time, she heard the shouts of children at play, the sounds of men’s and women’s voices in conversation, and of dogs barking.

The wind tousled her hair while it blew back the rags of her dress, and as she stood there with the sun beating welcome warmth upon her, she felt strangely as though she had stepped onto another planet.

“They know that we are here.”

She could only swallow, unable to respond. Words deserted her. And an unbidden fear coursed through her.

She did not know these people; she did not understand their language, and she could not envision what sort of reception awaited her.

She was suddenly glad Gray Hawk had insisted that she marry him.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

She nodded her agreement.

He pointed to the north, toward the hills. He asked, “Do you see those slopes?”

Again she nodded.

“Old men of the tribe sit there on lookout for the village. My grandfathers may even now be there.”

She smiled and he gazed at her, his glance lingering on her face.

“There is no reason for you to fear,” he said. “You are with me, and you are my sits-beside-him-wife. No harm will come to you.”

She wished she could have responded to his words, but she could only smile, and even that was a strain.

“Come.” He took her elbow, but she held back. He looked down at her. “I promise you that no harm will come to you. Now, come.”

She could see no way to avoid what had to happen, and so she let him lead the way into the Indian camp, fear causing her to stay close to Gray Hawk’s heels.

A multitude of brown, curious faces greeted her and Gray Hawk as they made their way into camp. Genevieve gazed down, afraid to look up and witness whatever looks were thrown their way.

All at once there were voices shouting, where before it had been quieter, and dogs ran up to them, seeming to single her out to bark and growl at.

Drums, which had been beating when they’d entered camp, stopped, and children, shrieking, darted toward them. Many of the youngsters reached out to touch her, though Gray Hawk shooed them away with the flick of his hand and a sternly spoken “
Mopbete
,
behave!”

Gray Hawk spoke to many people, reaching out to touch a hand here, a palm there, but Genevieve barely noticed. She was too afraid to do more than follow.

Finally Gray Hawk stopped, and Genevieve, almost running into him, heard the sound of a woman’s voice.

“
Oki
.”
Genevieve listened to the woman, despite the words being completely meaningless to her. “
Tsa kaanistaopiihpa ohko
?
Nomohtsitsinikooka kiistoyi
.
Nitsikohtaahsi’taki kikao’toohsi
.
How are you, my son? Others have told me about you. I am glad you have arrived. I have prayed that you might return.”

“
Oki Na’a
,
hello, my mother,” Gray Hawk responded. “I have returned to you as quickly as I could.”

“It is good that you have. I have worried.”

Other Indians had gathered around them now, and Genevieve noted that much attention seemed to be centered on
her,
not on Gray Hawk and the woman.

Genevieve stepped closer to Gray Hawk.

“I have many things I wish to ask you, my mother, for I have worried about you and my sisters, but first I should tell you that I have married this woman who has walked into camp by my side. I have made her my sits-beside-him-wife.”

The older woman spared the white woman only a momentary glance. “
Hannia
!
Naapiaakii
!
A white woman!”

“
Aa
,
yes,” he said. “And I would ask that you and my sisters assist her in learning our ways. But first I would request that you help me to settle her into a lodge. As you can see, her clothing is torn and dirty; she has holes in her shoes, and she is tired.”

The older woman gazed more closely at Genevieve, scrutinizing her. She said, “She can stay with one of your sisters while we prepare your lodge. I hope that she gave you many gifts for this marriage. For if not, I fear you have made a bad choice. She does not look strong enough even to bear children.”

Gray Hawk grinned. He said, “Believe me, my mother, she has much strength.”

The older woman nodded, although her look remained doubtful. “Come inside, my son,” she said. “I wish to know more of what happened to you and why you have taken such an unusual wife.”

Gray Hawk gave an acknowledgment with a single motion of his hand and then turned toward Genevieve. “I am going inside this
niitoyis
,
this tepee, with my mother. You stay here and wait for me.”

Genevieve grabbed at Gray Hawk, fear causing her to look, wide-eyed, at the gathering crowd. They all seemed to be staring at her and pressing in upon her. “Please, Gray Hawk, couldn’t I come inside with you? I do not feel safe here.”

“You will be fine,” he said. “Custom does not permit you ever to talk to your mother-in-law.”

She pulled on his arm. “Never?”

He shook his head. “You are not allowed to be in her presence alone, either.”

“Not ever?”

“No.”

“But you would be there.”

He signed. “It does not matter. Wait for me here. You will come to no harm, and I must speak with my mother.”

She forgot her fear for a moment. In her anxiety, she hadn’t really registered his words. She asked, “That was your mother?”

“
Aa
, yes.” He looked up to the crowd then. Giving the assemblage a frown, he said, gesturing at the same time, “
Mustapaaatoot annoma
!
Go away from here!”

He sent Genevieve one last, scolding look before he bent to enter his mother’s lodge.

But no one there had ever before seen a white woman, and the novelty of it was too much for a fun-loving, curious people to resist. And so it was that very few people heeded Gray Hawk’s warning, most crowding around Genevieve at once.

Some of the women reached out to touch the rags of Genevieve’s dress; some fingered her hair, and Genevieve, convinced these people meant nothing more than to scalp her, sank farther and farther back toward the tepee.

The savory smell of blood soup wafted up to Gray Hawk as he entered his mother’s lodge.

He settled himself down on the men’s side of the tepee, and his mother handed him a bowl of the soup that, in Indian villages, was traditionally kept stewing all day long.

“Scouts spotted you several days back,” his mother said. “We have been awaiting your return.”

Gray Hawk nodded while he wiped off his chin. It was his only form of acknowledgment. “I had to get home and see to your welfare and to that of my sisters.”

“
Aa
,
yes, but I expected you several days ago.”

“I have just been married, my mother.” Gray Hawk gave his mother a half smile.

And the older woman grinned in response. “I suppose I can understand your delay, then. The woman is pretty, if puny.”

“
Aa
, yes, she is pretty.”

“What happened to you, my son? Reports came to us that you had gone out late one night and never returned. Your
napi
, your more-than-friend, said that he found tracks that indicated there had been a scuffle and that you had been dragged into what he calls the white man’s medicine canoe. But by the time he realized you were gone, the canoe had left, and they despaired of ever getting you back.”

“
Aa
,
yes,” Gray Hawk said. “It is true. And I will tell you all about it, but first I must ask how you have fared in my absence. With my father gone and your deciding you will marry no other, I have worried over you and all my sisters.”

His mother gazed away, toward the tepee entrance. She said, “We have done well. Your more-than-friend, as well as an old widower in camp, have kept us well supplied with meat. When I first learned that you were gone, I worried, but friends have ensured that we have not gone without.”

“That is good.” Gray Hawk said, then again, “that is good. I will have to give a pony to my more-than-friend, and I will give one to the old widower, too. Who is this man who has been so kind to you?”

A haunted look came over his mother’s features, and Gray Hawk stared at her. What was this he saw? Modesty? Excitement? He said, before his mother could answer, “Do I know this man?”

“He is one of your uncles,” his mother replied. “He had once been married to your father’s sister.”

“You do not mean Black Calf?”

“
Ha’ayaa
,
do not speak his name.”

“I am right? It is Black Calf?”

“My son, please do not speak his name.”

“But my mother, he is…a…”

“Handsome man.”

“He is younger than you.”

His mother gave Gray Hawk a considering glance. “Should that make a difference, my son?”

Gray Hawk gazed off to the tepee entrance, then up to the lodge poles and back down to the fire, his glance taking in everything he could find that was familiar: the old tepee lining, the willow backrest, the family robes, the rugs, the parfleches, the gun cases, his father’s old bow and arrows, the household utensils. He felt the buffalo robe underneath him, cushioning his seat.

A woman taking a younger man?

“Black Calf?” he spoke aloud. “I would never have thought of you with him, and… Forgive me, my mother. You have shocked me.”

“As you have me.” The older woman sat forward to bend over the stewing food. “Let us forget about me and your uncle for a moment. There will be time enough to go into that later.”

“
Annisa
,
all right.” Gray Hawk nodded.

“Tell me what happened to you.”

Gray Hawk hesitated, pretending complete interest in his soup. At last, though, he said, “The white woman captured me.”

His mother, who had been in the act of scooping up more soup, dropped the whole thing, fresh bowl and all, into the stewing pot. The older woman turned slowly to face her son. She said, “The white woman is a warrior woman?”

“
Saa
, no, my mother.”

“If she is a warrior woman, then…did she force you to marry her too?”

“Do I look the sort that she could force her will upon me?”

“But if she—”

“My mother, listen to me. The white woman did not capture me to mate with me. The white woman captured me to take me home with her to present me to her father. Her father apparently has taught his daughter the ways of being a man. But that is not important. The white woman came to get me or someone from our tribe to bring back to her father, who is interested in the customs of our people.”

“Wait, my son. You confuse me. Are you saying that this woman’s father is interested in our people?” His mother raised her eyebrows.

“
Aa
,
yes.”

“And you believe this?”

“
Aa
,
yes, my mother. I do.”

“Have we ever known this man before? Is he one of the traders?”

“
Saa
, no, he is not, my mother.”

“No?” She gave her son an odd glance. “Why would a man we have never seen be interested in us?”

“It is hard to understand, my mother. The whites have many strange customs, but it appears that her father makes his living from telling others stories about tribes such as ours.”

“
Aa
,”
she said. “Her father must be the camp historian, the storyteller. But just as easily not. These whites have been known to speak with a deceitful tongue. She could mean to make a slave of you. Remember that we have heard stories of how the whites captured some of the people of the far south and west, only to make slaves of them.”