Tiopa Ki Lakota (33 page)

"Ketlin! Look!" Hca exclaimed in a soft voice.

The trader had come out of the cabin. He strode a few feet out into the yard, his arms wide in welcome and a smile on his face. Of average height, he was wearing a homespun shirt and wool pants, suspenders holding them up. His hair was dark and shaggy, as curly as his beard, and parted in the middle.

Hca juggled the baby she carried in a sling across her body. "What is that on his
face
!?"

"Hair," Kathleen answered.

"Do all your
wicasa

have hair on their faces like that!?" the dark woman quizzed.

Despite her misgivings, the white woman smiled. "No,
stepan
. Sometimes the men shave it all off. Or they leave it above the lip or over the cheeks...." She trailed off, men's beard styles too numerous and distracting to get into.

Hca shook her head at the wonder of it all, following the people as they continued their trek.

Anpo rode with Mani and the elders. She cast one long look at her woman as they neared the white trader. A reassuring smile was sent her way and the warrior returned it before pulling her pony up and dismounting with the rest of the party.

"
Hau

,
wicasa ska
," Mani intoned, raising his hand in the signal for peace.

"How," came the response and the mirrored gesture. The trader also smiled with encouragement, showing stained and pitted teeth. "You've come to trade?" he asked, using sign language as he spoke his strange tongue.

The elders murmured a grudging respect for his knowledge, though Anpo studied him with careful eyes.
He is not speaking the words that Ketlin speaks.

The chief signed back, "We come to trade."

Showing off more of his ugly teeth, the trader's grin widened and he clapped his hand together in delight. "Good! Good!" Thumping his chest, he said, "I am Jacques!"

"Mani."

The trader shocked the gathering by slapping the chief on the back. "Mani! Let's go see my wares!"

Only the chief's warning glance to his people kept the warriors from attacking. Arm firmly wrapped about the native's shoulder, the trader began ushering Mani into the cabin. Seemingly ignorant of the tension he was provoking, Jacques continued to babble away in his language, only releasing the young chief when he stopped to throw open the door. With a flamboyant gesture, he indicated Mani was to step inside. The elders followed.

The remainder of the camp halted their progress upon reaching the clearing.
Winyan

made last minute checks of the items they had brought to trade and chattered excitedly with each other. The children, sensing the emotion, ran rings around the adults and horses. The
koskalaka
roamed the area, studying the cabin and its environs with interest and suspicion.

Anpo drifted towards her family. She caught sight of her
sic'e
speaking with another warrior and holding the trader's axe. A grin was shared as their eyes met for an instant.

As the warrior neared the blonde's pony, Teca crowed, "
Inanup
!" from the packed lodge. The toddler stood on unsteady legs and held out his arms with insistence.

Anpo grinned and sidled her pony beside the logs that held her
winuhca's

ti ikceya
in place. With a strong hand, she grabbed her son up to straddle the steed before her. Clucking at the horse, the warrior urged it around the lodge until they were beside her woman. "
Han
,
winuhcala
," she greeted. "
Han
,
cuwekala

,
tunska

."

"
Han
,
mitankala
," the dark woman answered. Jostling the sleeping baby. "
Yus'as'a

would say
hau
if he were awake." She grinned at her sister.

"
Han
, my warrior," Kathleen returned with a smile. Leaning against Anpo's leg, she peered upwards with worried eyes. "All is well?"

"
Ohan
, Ketlin. All is well." The warrior adjusted herself in the saddle as their son bounced up and down in an attempt to urge the pony onwards. "I do not think he speaks your tongue. I did not recognize any of the words."

The blonde nodded. "This far north, he would be from the French, I think."

"You cannot tell what tribe he is from by his clothing?" Hca asked.

"
Hiya
,
stepan

. Not often. Sometimes it is easy to know what a white man works at by his clothing but not what tribe he is from."

The dark woman quirked her eyebrow and shook her head at the wonder of white society. In her arms, the baby fussed to wakefulness and Hca found herself distracted from the conversation.

"What happens now,
winuhcala
?" Kathleen questioned as they both looked to the trader's cabin.

Anpo sighed. "Now we wait, Ketlin. When Mani and the elders have decided to trade with
wicasa ska
, we will be told." She looked down to the toddler who bobbed intently in her saddle, unable to make the horse go. "But first I must take my
cinksi

for a ride so that he will know what it is like to have a pony beneath him running like the wind!"

Used to the sudden change of topic for Teca, the blonde grinned and stepped back. "Our
cinksi
is already one of the best riders in camp," she insisted, her smile widening as the toddler puffed up in pride.

"
Ohan

, he is."

"
Hau
! I am!" the boy exclaimed with excitement. "Teca
big
warrior,
inanup

!"

"
Big
warrior," Anpo repeated with conviction as she pulled the steed away from her woman. As she kicked it into a trot, she glanced behind with a wink and a smile.

Kathleen watched them go, her heart full of pride and love for them.

It wasn't long before some of the elders emerged from the cabin with another white man. This one was older, with graying hair and craggy face. He lugged a heavy bundle to the chopping block, settling it carefully before unwrapping it. The warriors around him yipped with enthusiasm as the midday sun reflected off the steel blades.

A few of the important men stepped out and gestured their women and scouts to come inside. Some of the
koskalaka
elected to remain with the older trader and his knives.
Nupa

and Anpo both decided to follow their women.

Teca had been settled into a cradle board across his
ina's
back. Though he fidgeted somewhat, his dark eyes alertly studied the wonders that were in the cabin. Shiny pots and ladles hung from the rafters, all manner of strange tools and utensils lay upon the heavy wooden tables. Thick blankets and shirts of all imaginable colors, wooden boxes of different designs, a riot of color and shapes that boggled the Lakota minds.

As Kathleen made her way along the tables, a nostalgic twinge plucked at her heart. The blonde found herself answering questions about the strange items and their functions, putting her interpretation skills to quite a bit of use. With gentle fingers, she caressed a tin whistle that looked like her grandmother's.

She smelled him first, a dusty odor of sweat that indicated someone who didn't bathe often. A vague memory of her husband flitted through her mind as Kathleen looked up from a grinder, the discussion with her stepan trailing away. The younger trader was across the table from her, watching her curiously. A trickle of unease caused her to shiver.

Seeing her attention was his, the trader spoke.

French. Definitely French, lass.
Kathleen shook her head. "I do not understand," she replied in Lakota. Beside her, Hca watched with intent curiosity.

The man's brow quirked, obviously not expecting the barrier. Again he spoke, this time with a heavy accent. "You speak English?"

Blinking in surprise, the blonde woman nodded.

"I am Jacques," he said. "What is name?"

"Kathleen," the woman responded. She felt a presence behind her, heard the toddler call to his
inanup
and relaxed a little.

The trader eyed the sudden appearance of a possessive warrior with misgiving. Subconsciously, he stood straighter and raised a chin in response to Anpo's presence. "This your buck?"

A slow burn sparked in Kathleen's heart at the phrase. Dark blue eyes flashing, she nodded again. "Yes."

Realizing he'd offended the white woman, Jacques nodded once and shrugged an apology. He scooped up the tin whistle and held it up. "You play?"

Despite herself, the blonde's anger dissipated and she gave the instrument a wistful smile. "Yes. It's been some time, though."

"Four rabbit skins and yours."

The sentimentality was chased away by her common sense. "
One
rabbit skin will buy you five just like it in Boston."

Jacques' face melted into a rueful grin. "
Oui
." He set the whistle back down on the tabletop. "But
here
worth four."

Lips thinning in distaste, Kathleen shook her head and stepped away from the table. Hca followed as the blonde moved to the other side of the cabin.

The trader watched her go, shaking his head. Motion caught his attention and he found himself looking up into the dark eyes of the yellow shirted warrior. Swallowing nervously, he forced himself to return the gaze.

After long minutes, Anpo leaned forward, her eyes narrowed and face stern. She watched as the ugly white man swallowed harder and sweat popped up onto his brow. A slow, feral smile grew on her face.

Jacques' heart beat double time at the implied threat. Without thought, he backed a step away from the table, away from the warrior who studied him as if he were lunch. He watched as the yellow shirted man picked up the tin whistle his woman had been eyeing and tucked it into a pouch. A wince crossed his face at the loss of a trade, but he kept his silence, knowing the savage could kill him for no reason.

The warrior straightened. With obvious disapproval for the man, Anpo tossed a bundle of furs onto the table and stalked away. She missed the heavy sigh of relief as the trader wiped his forehead.

Unable to escape his greedy nature, the man scooped up the bundle and unwrapped it. Unfurled, the furs became those of four rabbits. Dark eyebrows shot up as he realized how much the warrior had understood and a sense of urgency filled him.
If these natives understand English....

Nupa, who had watched the exchange, looked up from the strange utensil he was examining to see the white trader stumble out into the yard. Hearing the other trader's name being called, he shrugged and set the fork down, continuing his path along the tables and finding a heavy wool blanket.

The small family wandered away from the still celebrating Lakota. Teca was cuddled in one of his
inanup's
arm, exhausted from the excitement of the day, and his mother was wrapped in the other.

Once the initial trading sessions had been completed, the
winyan

had set up their camp nearby and the traders were invited to feast with the people. They had accepted with wreathes of smiles on their faces. After the
ti ikceyas
were up and the fires lit, another bout of trading occurred.

Almost like a fair
, the blonde woman mused, enjoying the strong arm draped across her shoulder.
The only fly in the ointment has been the guns and whiskey.

At the proper time, the traders had come out of their cabin and joined the natives at their council fire. Along with them came their rifles and an innocuous wooden keg. They offered the chief a drink before passing the whiskey around to the other warriors, laughing uproariously as brown faces grimaced at the taste and burning sensation.

Behind Kathleen, another rifle went off near the fire where Mani was learning to shoot. She jumped in reaction before relaxing into the gentle squeeze her warrior gave her. Smiling up into dark eyes, she squeezed back where her arm was lying about a firm waist.

Fortunately, the traders couldn't understand the Lakota language. It was fairly easy for the white woman to speak with Anpo and have the warrior relay the information to the rest of those gathered at the fire. One round of the keg and no one would have another drink. The two Frenchmen seemed a bit put out, but the younger smiled and winked at Kathleen with a grudging admiration.

Reaching the lodge, the blonde woman held the leather covering aside for Anpo to duck in with her important bundle. Soon, Teca was sleeping soundly in his furs and the couple were outside by the fire.

"
Hiya
,
winuhcala

," Kathleen murmured, reaching out her hand to stop the warrior. "You need to hold the knife this way." She showed the
wikoskalaka

the proper angle on the whetstone. "And use pressure as you push it along."

Anpo nodded and did as she was instructed, a strange sound emitting from the flat stone she held in her hand. "Like when I sharpen my spears...?"

The blonde smiled. "
Ohan
! Just like that." Watching as the warrior repeated the process several times, she added, "And then you do the same on the other side until it is sharp."

They sat in silence as the honing continued, the only sounds the gentle rasp of metal on stone, the continued singing and drumming at the council fire and the occasional gunshot.

"What did the younger
wicasa