Tiopa Ki Lakota (9 page)

Today was laundry day, an all day affair. Before her were two large wooden tubs, one of them sitting on a table. There were also two buckets nearby that she'd been using to transfer water from the well. The table tub held the soapy water she'd been using to clean their clothes and now she was rinsing the final load in the second tub, stirring them with a large stick before pulling each piece out to wring dry.

And that's the last of it
, she thought with a happy sigh. Using her apron, she dried off her hands and used a corner of it to wipe the sweat from her forehead.
At this rate, I might be able ta take a bath b'fore dinner.
Kathleen picked up the heavy basket of wet clothing and brought it to the ropes she'd had her husband string up between the cabin and the trees two years ago. Most of their clothes already hung there, flapping in the light breeze, and she prepared to add more to their company.

It had been a good marriage to date. While she didn't exactly love Stevens, she had grown rather fond of him. He was always so gentle and kind, trying his best to not show his disappointment as yet another month went by and still no children. Kathleen couldn't understand what the problem was. Their intimacy was a regular thing - twice a week, except during her monthly time. As time went on, their lack of offspring had begun worrying them both.

"If God deems it, Kath, ye'll be blessed,"
her mother's voice whispered in her head. Though, having children denied her because God deemed it so wasn't a comforting thought.

Kathleen shook off her somber thoughts.
Adam doesn't want ye sad, lass. Finish the chore, take a bath and get his dinner ta table.
Instead, she focused on happy times.

The previous Sabbath was spent at her parents' home. Stewart hadn't been there, having gone down the way a piece to have dinner with the Anders' and their sweet eldest daughter. So, the two couples enjoyed a quiet evening of conversation and food. The only fly in the ointment had been the talk of the local natives in an uproar.

"Apparently, a fellah down south of here cheated one of them when he traded," McGlashan said, puffing on his pipe on the front porch.

Stevens nodded sagely. "Anyone we know?"

"No. Unless ye know a man named Silas...?" At his son-in-law's head shake he shrugged. "Well, anyways, ta make a long story short, the indian tweren't happy with the situation and killed him."

"That's murder!" Kathleen spoke up, her blue eyes wide.

"Aye, 'tis, lass. As his brothers thought, as well. So, they went out a'huntin' and caught a few of this indian's friends. From there things just escalated."

Frowning, Stevens finished sipping his coffee. "Do ye think we'll have any trouble up here?" he asked.

"No, I doubt it. Seems the savages are stickin' to their neck o' the woods. Haven't heard of them comin' any further north."

Kathleen scowled at herself as she hung one of her husband's shirts. "Nothin' like cheery thoughts, lass," she complained. Pushing the conversation from her mind, she hummed to herself as she hung the laundry to dry.

Once finished, the teenager looked up at the sun, wiping her hands on her apron.
Adam'll be in for a break soon. He's nothin' if not methodical.
With a grunt, she tipped over first one and then the second tub of water. When they were drained, she leaned them up against the table to air dry and retrieved more water from the well. After transferring the two buckets to the cabin, Kathleen scooped up the basket and went inside.

The basket was returned to the foot of the bed, ready to catch their dirty clothing for the next laundry day. Deciding she didn't have time for a bath after all, Kathleen opted to have a quick washing. One of the water buckets was partially poured into the kettle over the fire and she stirred it into the mixture of stew that had been simmering all day. She placed the second bucket on the table and pulled a coveted bar of lavender soap from the cupboard, along with a rag and a piece of linen.

The blonde hung the apron up on a hook by the door and returned to the table. Undoing the buttons on the front of her dress, she bared herself to the waist and dipped the rag into the water. She rubbed the bar of soap onto the wet cloth and proceeded to scrub her body, gasping at the initial coolness against her overheated skin. Once a fine lather had been achieved, she submerged the rag back into the bucket, swirling it around and rinsing it out. Again, she scrubbed, wiping the soap from her skin. The piece of linen was used to dry off.

As she shrugged back into the arms of her dress, she heard the door behind her open. "Adam! I didn't hear ye on the porch, love," she said, reaching for the buttons at her waist. "Sit down and I'll get ye somethin' ta drink."

Two things happened simultaneously. The sound of her husband's musket reached her ears - from out in the fields. And a rough hand grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

Kathleen looked up into the dark and dangerous eyes of a native warrior. Blue eyes wide, she clutched her dress to her chest, covering herself, and stepped back. "Get away from me!" she whispered urgently, unable to make her voice work any louder.

The warrior looked at her partial state of undress and a wicked grin crossed his face as he stepped forward.

Out in the field, Stevens heard his young wife scream. He clutched his belly, trying unsuccessfully to hold his guts in place as he used his other hand to crawl towards the cabin. The two warriors with him spoke to each other in a strange language and he felt the sharp pain of a knife bury itself between his shoulder blades.

And then all was dark.

Chapter 3

Kawita
(kah-wee-tah)

Coming Together

1777

"
Hau

,
tanksi

."

The teenager opened her eyes and peered up at her friend. "
Han

,
tiblo

." She sat up, the buffalo robe falling away as she stretched in the dawn light.

Nupa Olowan

grinned as he handed her a piece of dried meat. "The
hoksila

have come to watch the herd. You and I can return to camp." He then turned away to roll up his sleeping robes and tie them with a thong.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes,
Wi Ile Anpo

inhaled deeply. She bit off a chunk of the meat before rising and following her friend's lead. "Do you think they have decided on the hunt?" she asked, by way of conversation.

"I do not know. It has been three days and Inyan returned yesterday with a vision." Nupa shrugged and adjusted the thong on his robes. "It must have been favorable. Else they would not still be counseling."

Anpo nodded in agreement. Finished with her own bedding, she rose and glanced about. The ponies were quietly grazing. Here and there,
hoksila
were taking up positions to guard the herd until such time as the camp decided to move on or until she and the other
koskalaka

returned for another all night vigil.

Her best friend clapped her on the arm. "Let's you and I go to your mother's
ti

ikceya

." He shouldered his buffalo robes.

"Are you interested in the food or my sister?" Anpo questioned with a wicked grin, leading the way.

Nupa followed along, his own smile rueful. "The food is good, but
Hca Wanahca

is very easy on the eyes."

The pair laughed in the early morning sunlight.

Breakfast consisted of boiled grains and dried meat. The two sat at the fire of
Wanbli Zi

as his woman and daughter served them. Waniyetu Gi made sure that her eldest daughter was the one to serve the fine young warrior that ate with them. Her man studiously ignored the fawning his eldest engaged in.

Anpo enjoyed watching her friend become all stoic and strong, his chest puffed out as he tried to impress Hca. At one point, the teenager had held out her bowl for more food but her sibling was so engrossed in flirting with Nupa, she'd failed to see it. It wasn't until she was gently chastised by her mother that she blushed and refilled the bowl.

"Did the night go well?" Wanbli Zi asked.

"
Hiya

. Nothing happened," his youngest daughter responded. She ignored the slightly rolled eyes from Nupa. They'd had this discussion before.

The man looked upon Anpo with fondness. "Nothing
can
be a good thing,
cunksi

."

The teenager shrugged, her dark eyes glinting with humor. "So I have been told."

Nupa shook his head in feigned disgust.

"A rider came during the night. One of the scouts," the older man commented, changing the subject.

The two young warriors' ears perked up in interest. "Did they find
tatanka

?" Anpo questioned. Her friend leaned forward in eagerness, all thoughts of the beautiful Hca gone.

Wanbli Zi nodded sagely. "It has been said that they saw not only
tatanka
but also the camp of Wicasa Waziya Mani. The council is considering issuing an invitation for a mutual hunt." His eyes pinned his youngest daughter. "It has also been said that the
tatanka

ska

is with the herd."

Anpo leaned back, eyes wide and a feeling of breathlessness overtaking her. She could hear her friend gasp at the pronouncement.
It is the time of my vision!
Thoughts and questions whirled around in her mind.

"You will kill the sacred
tatanka ska
,
tanksi
," the young warrior beside her said, nodding his head.

"You have seen this?" Wanbli Zi asked, aware of the young man's occasional visions.

Nupa nodded again. "I have." Turning to the young woman, he draped an arm around her shoulder and quickly hugged her. "I am
glad
you are my friend, Anpo! You will bring the camp much honor with
wakan tanka

!"

Anpo accepted the embrace, her thoughts racing through her head.
And what of the woman with hair like the sun? Will she bring honor? Or pain?

As the day wore on, it was becoming more and more difficult for Anpo to concentrate on her task. At other points in the camp, young warriors could be seen loitering about and appearing nonchalant as they awaited word from the elders. A tension filled the air.

Anpo was knapping a flint arrowhead in front of her mother's
ti ikceya
, constantly casting an eye at the council lodge. Her father was inside, counseling with the other elders. From somewhere nearby, she could hear the young women giggling as they went about their tasks. Her thoughts were focused on the
winyan
from her vision of four winters ago.

The
tatanka

ska

had disappeared. In its place was a strange woman with pale skin. Her hair was long, longer than Anpo's, and a yellow the color of the Sun itself. Her eyes were the blue of a deep lake, still and clear. She was wearing the standard dress that all of Anpo's women wore, buckskin and moccasins, her hair flowing freely in the breeze.

This strange apparition rose from where the white buffalo had lain, blood pouring from her side where the white buffalo had been wounded. She walked gently closer to the girl staring at her in wonder. And then the woman put a hand to her wound, bloodying her fingers. She reached forward and brushed the blood onto Anpo's face, two thunderbolts beneath the dark eyes. As the Sun flared again, the girl could see those brilliant blue eyes staring at her intently and hear the words whispered into her ear.

"
Mahasanni ki

."

Anpo shook the vision off. It had been like this since she'd originally had it - the sudden sensation of going back into time and being on the hillside again, seeing the woman with yellow hair, hearing her voice. The shaman had told her that it was uncommon for a vision to have so much power, but that this stranger must be
wakan

for all of that.

At midday,
Waniyetu Gi

served her a bowl of stew that was simmering over the nearby fire. Anpo's sister arrived, a basket of berries on her hip, and they ate their lunch. The camp was quiet and still in anticipation.

Wanbli Zi stepped out of the council
ti

ikceya

, looking to his woman's lodge. Spotting his youngest daughter watching, he waved her to him.

The teenager blew out a suspenseful breath and rose, brushing the remainders of her meal from her breechclout and covering the flintwork with a piece of leather. She trotted to her father. "
Ohan

,
ate

?"

"The elders would ask you to volunteer to go to the other camp with an invitation," the older man said. Turning towards the sound of someone approaching, he smiled. "And you, Nupa."

The young man puffed his chest out, a grin on his handsome face. "I would volunteer to ride with my
tanksi