Tiopa Ki Lakota (11 page)

And then the discussion was interrupted as other young men drifted closer. Soon. several were seated about the fire, smoking and exchanging stories and news.

That evening, the feast was a grand success. There was much rejoicing at the visitors' arrival and news. The women of the camp tried to outdo each other with the food they cooked, the
hoksila

jostled for position nearest the strangers and the warriors entertained themselves and their guests with gambling and games of skill.

As the darkness grew and the food disappeared, the chief of the camp stood up and held his arms high overhead. "Hear me!" he called to his people and they all quieted, Anpo and Nupa listening just as attentively. "This camp has been invited to join with Anpo's and Nupa's to hunt
tatanka

. The elders have decided." With true showmanship, he paused, his dark eyes glittering in the firelight.

The camp seemed to collectively lean forward, holding its breath.

"We will join you," he smiled, looking down at the seated guests. "Tomorrow morning you will return to your camp and tell Wagmiza Wagna that we will soon arrive." Mani turned to the shaman and received a medicine bundle and small pouch of willow bark.

At the leader's nod, Anpo quickly stood up, her friend a heartbeat behind her. The items were handed reverently over to her.

"There is our answer," the chief smiled.

With extreme care, Anpo wrapped the pouches in a fur and tied them with a thong.

The camp erupted in whoops and cries. Drums were beaten and more wood laid onto the flames as the warriors began dancing about, enacting how they would hunt the buffalo in the days to come. Rattles and pipes also joined the din, making for an exciting stir of sound.

Nupa looked longingly at the young men and then back at his friend who'd sat back down.

"Go,
tiblo

," the young woman said with a grin. "I have the bundle. I will dance at our own camp before the hunt." Seeing the war of wanting to enjoy himself fighting his desire to keep her company, she scowled at him. "I said
go
. Do you think you will be allowed to impress all the
wikoskalaka

when my sister is nearby?"

The warrior blinked at her before a slow grin crossed his face. And with a whoop he leaped into the fray and began dancing.

Anpo watched him with a fond smile. But her eyes kept being drawn to the darkness surrounding the fire, looking for something that wasn't there.
If it is the time of my vision... where is she...? Will she be a powerful spirit? Or real?

Kathleen slumped on her sleeping robes in the
ti ikceya
. It had been a busy day and she was very tired.
Aye, ye should be, lass. Ye helped put up enough food ta feed Boston proper.
Outside the lodge, she could hear the wild drums and the people singing as they danced. She thought she'd heard pipes, as well, but couldn't be sure.

Nearby, an old toothless woman was sewing two pieces of leather together and singing softly in a whispery voice. She was the only other person in the tent, an aging guard to keep the new young slave trapped.

'Tisn't like there's anyplace ta go, Kath
, the blonde thought to herself with an ironic twist to her mouth. She stretched out and covered herself with her robes, trying to get comfortable on the hard ground.

As far as Kathleen could tell, it had been well over a month, nearing two, since she'd been kidnapped from her homestead in the east. The man who had brutally raped her in her own cabin had taken a liking to her fair skin and kept her. There had been many nights over the course of several weeks that Kathleen had been sexually assaulted. And the two women who had lived with that man had beat her regularly for the slightest infraction of their unspoken and vague rules.

All Kathleen wanted was to curl up and die by that point. She'd tried to get a knife from one of the women, smuggling it into her dress while helping prepare the meal, intent on using it to join her husband. But, it hadn't worked. The woman had seen it and had beat her senseless. And then her man had done the same.

But things had changed about two weeks ago. In the early morning hours, a monstrous uproar had been heard in the camp. There was quite a bit of screaming and yelling. The tent she'd been in had caught fire. The man had already gone outside to fight the attackers and the women soon followed to escape the flames, leaving her inside to roast.

Kathleen still didn't know how she had gotten out of the inferno. Outside was a mass of confusion and it was all she could do to stay out of the way of stampeding horses and wild eyed natives. Through the din of smoke and noise, she could hear hooves beating hard on the ground and suddenly, she'd been swept up and across a wooden saddle.

And she'd been with
this
man and his family ever since, moving steadily west.

The blonde rolled over onto her side, facing the fire and watching the old woman at her task.
Could be worse, lass.

Her treatment had gotten infinitely better here. There were no beatings, though the man had slapped her once when she'd gotten hysterical. The women were rather kind. The grandmother across the fire there would occasionally swear at her or some such when she'd done something wrong. Kathleen couldn't tell what she was saying and it was probably just as well. There were also two children in this tent and, for one who'd thought she was barren, living with them had been a joy.

But the brutality of Kathleen's kidnapper had left its mark. The man -
my new husband?
- had tried to bed her four times. And four times he'd gone away in disgust. The first time, she'd gotten hysterical and he'd had to slap her. Afterwards, when he climbed into her robes, his naked body against hers, she froze. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, nothing but a ceramic doll to be posed, to be used. And that was obviously not something he wanted. He would shake his head and leave her robes, going to his wife's bed.

Ye've got ta get over this, lass. If ye don't have any worth, then yer a dead woman.
Unbidden, tears welled up in her eyes. With the lack of abuse came the time to reflect and feel. Kathleen knew that her husband was dead. She'd seen his body when her attackers had dragged her from the cabin. But it was only recently she'd had the opportunity to mourn.
Adam needed ta have someone ta love. Needed ta have children. And I wasn't able to give him either.

Another concern was her family. There was no indication that there'd been an attack on the McGlashan homestead yet it still worried her mind.
Aside from ye, lass, there's no sign of an attack on yer homestead either.
Every night, as these strange people prepared for sleep, she prayed to God that her mum and da were alright, that Stewart had survived the horrid attacks up and down the frontier.

And so the last two weeks had gone. Sleeping, eating, packing, moving. Followed by unpacking, preparing food, eating and worrying. All with the occasional odd anxiety attack thrown in for good measure. Kathleen didn't know where the camp was heading, just that they continued to travel west and west and west.

Today had been different. The arrival of the two young warriors had been interesting. Kathleen wished she spoke the language so she could hear what was going on. She could barely understand one word out of a dozen. And then there were the preparations for the feast and the music and dancing outside now.
I wonder who they are? Someone important from the looks of things.
But she'd been hustled into the tent as soon as the strangers entered the camp and she'd been out of sight ever since.
Maybe they're worried ye'll get stolen again. Seems ta be the way of it here.

Unable to fathom the whys and wherefores, her deep blue eyes slowly closed, tears drying on her cheeks. The old woman's voice weaved through her mind as she drifted off to sleep, singing a counterpoint to the sound of her gram's tin whistle.

"I am near,
Mahasanni ki

."

Anpo's eyes flew open and she surged up from sleep, looking wildly around for the pale woman.

Nearby, her friend stirred in his robes before continuing to snore quietly.

It was a dream, nothing more.
Her heartbeat slowed and she scrubbed sleep from her face as she sat up. Outside the
ti

ikceya

could be heard movement as others awoke. Reaching over, she nudged the young man, rousting him. "
Han

,
tiblo
. It is time to go."

"
Hau

,
tanksi
." Nupa grinned before stretching and yawning. As he stood and began getting dressed, he said, "I cannot wait to arrive home! It will be a great hunt!"

Anpo collected her belongings and packed them up. The sacred bundle that had been given them by the chief was still in her possession and would remain so until she arrived at their own camp and could be given to Wagmiza Wagna.

Sensing his friend's somberness, Nupa peered at her. "Are you all right,
tanksi

?"

Troubled brown eyes regarding him. "I cannot drive the pale woman from my mind,
tiblo

. She haunts me waking or sleeping." The young woman sighed deeply and shook her head in consternation. "If this is the time of the vision, I wish she would show herself! The waiting is hard!"

The warrior nodded in sympathy. He reached out to take the woman's upper arm and squeeze it gently. "Visions are never easy. Especially those that are powerful. Be patient,
tanksi
. All will come to pass as it should."

Anpo gave a half-hearted snort. "If I close my eyes, I can see Inyan."

"I am
not
a shaman!" Nupa insisted as he pulled away from her. "I would not make a good one." Hearing another snort, the warrior rolled his eyes. "Being shaman is more than visions,
tanksi
. Do you think I have the patience to sit for hours on end, awaiting the spirits? To work so diligently on harvesting leaves and grass?"

The sudden sight of the great warrior, Nupa Olowan of Wagmiza Wagna's camp, picking flowers in a field filled Anpo's mind.

The young man frowned down at her as she rolled on the floor, howling. "I do not understand why you are laughing."

As they left the camp of Wicasa Waziya Mani, the people were already beginning to pack up their belongings in preparation for the trip. There were final words between the visitors and the chief before the two climbed upon their ponies and left.

The trip home was uneventful, if quiet. Anpo's mind was constantly drawn to her dream and vision. The longer the day went, the more the feeling of anticipation grew within her heart. It was if she knew that the vision was going to come to fruition in the very near future.

Nupa tried to ply her with jokes and conversation, failing miserably. He finally left her to her thoughts, following along quietly.

By midday, they returned to their own camp.
It is good to see home
, Anpo thought as they rode into the eastern entrance.

The two stopped at the council
ti

ikceya

and the leather covering was pushed aside as they dismounted. An elder stepped out and held the covering aside for them to enter before stepping in behind.

Shuffling around the firepit, the elders opened up the honored place beside Wagmiza Wagna and the two messengers settled down. After several minutes of smoking and silence, the chief spoke.

"You have an answer, Anpo?"

"
Ohan
,
wicahcala

." The woman held out the bundle she'd been carrying.

The elder took the fur and gently opened it. His creased face broke into a smile as he held up the fur to show the medicine bundle and willow bark pouch. "Our invitation has been accepted," he announced to the gathered men.

"The camp of Mani will arrive before the sun goes down this night," the young woman spoke up, the grin on her face matching her friend's beside her.

"Then we will have a feast in their honor to welcome them to our camp," Wagmiza Wagna declared. He turned to the young warriors beside him. "You have done well, this day. I will be honored if you sit with me at the feast."

Anpo worked hard at keeping a neutral expression on her face, though she could feel her eyes widen and the desire to drop her jaw. Beside her, she could almost feel Nupa thrumming with excitement. "I would be... very honored,
wicahcala
," she finally said.

"And I!" the young man beside her added. He nudged her with his shoulder, grinning.

Nodding in satisfaction, the elder chief returned their smiles.

The pair were minor heroes for the day, constantly pestered by the
hoksila
with questions, given extra little treats from the
winyan's

cookfires, quizzed by the other
koskalaka
and
wicasa

as they lounged around and smoked.

In preparation of the new arrivals, several of the lodges had been moved to accommodate the extra people, expanding the camp outward. The cookfires were put to great use as the women and girls prepared a repast for the feast. Later, as the sun lowered in the western sky, anticipation began to swell.

Soon, three riders came from the north. They circled around to the eastern side and slowly made their entrance. Wicasa Waziya Mani and two of his advisors rode into the camp, all smiles. The trio pulled up at the council lodge and hopped off their ponies.