Destiny Mine (20 page)

“Atah
and our laws say it is wrong to take from others, even enemies,” Kionee said. “The Creator gave us skills and wits to do our own work, not force others to do it for us; that is lazy and unworthy of an Hanueva. There are good bands of Crow; we cannot punish and harm all of them to hurt those few who are bad. They are strong and many, Weasel Boy, to challenge them to war before we try to make peace or try to trick them out of our path is dangerous and foolish; many Hanueva would die or be captured. There are many good things about the
Crow, but they are unlike us. It is best to remain separated and alive. Men who wish to raid and fight like the bad Crow seek out those bands who like to do the same, not those who have no hunger for killing and stealing.”

Several older boys and girls came to the area and enticed the children to join them in a hoop-and-stick game. Kionee watched them until Weasel Boy, who was losing and getting annoyed, suggested a mock battle, with some of them playing Bird Warriors. Since it was time to eat and nap, she gathered Little Weasel’s children and took them to their mother. The boy did not want to stop playing or to go to sleep. Kionee was relieved when Four Deer and Swift Fingers arrived in time to give White Flower needed assistance with discipline. She accepted the mother’s gratitude and left.

The Cheyenne braves gathered early one morning and left on a second hunt, while the Hanuevas stayed behind to complete their tasks from the first one. From messages sent to camp, the large herd which their scouts had sighted was farther away after the last chase, so the men expected to be gone for several days, unless the buffalo changed directions. The last report said the animals had halted and were grazing contentedly, as if they awaited what was to come. The Cheyenne women and captives who were to butcher and transport the meat home were told to follow them later; they also planned to spend a night or two on the grasslands. Their children would be tended by aging parents, grandparents, older siblings, or trusted captives during the mothers’ absences. Some would be cared for by female friends who could not go along because they were too heavy with child or were nursing babies.

As Kionee observed the scenes, she gathered information about her lover’s people. She was happy to see how
they helped each other in times of need. She was also pleased to learn that their captives were treated with kindness and that most accepted their altered fates. She could not imagine such an existence, but it seemed a way of life with other tribes.

She had not even glimpsed Stalking Wolf since his visit six suns past. It was frustrating to know he was nearby, but out of reach and view.

She knelt by the circle of rocks to make a fire for her mother. She grasped two sticks and placed sand on one. Amidst a small bed of dried grass, she rolled the second stick between her palms with fast movements until it created sparks and made a tiny flame. She fanned it until the dried buffalo chip caught fire. When that one was burning, she added others.

Just as she completed her task, a shadow fell over her. She looked up and saw a smiling Night Walker. She wished her mother and sisters were nearby, but they were gathering more chips in parfleches and fetching water in bags.

“You work hard and long and good, Kionee. No other…matches your skills on the hunt, in the battle, or in camp.”

She nearly flinched as she saw his ravenous gaze devouring her and heard the husky tone of his voice. She guessed he had almost called her a woman, but she pretended not to notice. “Thank you, my friend and brother.”

The chiefs youngest son lowered himself to one knee. He propped an elbow on his thigh and watched her. “It is good you know much about women’s chores and help your mother and sisters with them.”

“It is our way to lighten the burdens of others.”

“You would not need much training to become a mate and mother.”

She focused a strange and reproving gaze on him. “I do not need such training; I am a
tiva.
”

“One season that could change.”

“Only if
Atah
wills it, and He does not do so.”

“What if the Creator speaks to you but you refuse to listen?”

She looked at him as if he had lost his wits or insulted her. “He has not done so, and He will not. I am needed in my rank.”

“Another could do it for you, one who is skilled and desires you.”

“I hope there is no man among our tribe who hungers for me, for I cannot feed him the food he craves. It is not in my heart or head. I pray if such a man lives among us, he will not speak of such unwanted things to me. I do not wish to injure his feelings or pride with a refusal.”

“Are you certain there is no pursuer you would not think to turn away?”

“Yes. I am a
tiva
and I will remain a
tiva
until I breathe no more.” She knew she had made her voice and expression harsh and firm to silence him. She watched him shrug, grin, and drop the matter.

“I go to ride with Little Weasel. We scout for enemies and shoot pronghorn not far away where they graze. Will you come with us?”

“I have work to keep me here, but I thank you. Ask Taysinga to go. He sees you as the greatest hunter and protector among our people. He also thinks there is no Cheyenne or Crow with prowess to match yours. He seeks to learn much from you about hunting and fighting. You can speak while you ride. It would be a good deed for you to help him.”

“If it pleases you, I will ride and talk with your
tiva
brother.”

“It would please me and Taysinga. Thank you.”

Night Walker stood, stared down at her a moment, then left.

Kionee sighed in relief of his departure.

Later, as Strong Rock’s family worked during the afternoon, Martay edged close to Kionee. She said in a low voice no one could overhear, “Night Walker is a skilled hunter and fighter of high rank. I see a glow in his eyes this season when he looks at my son. I think he will seek you in joining after we leave the grasslands.” When Kionee gaped at her, Martay smiled and coaxed, “Do not fear, my child; that is good. To join with our chiefs son is a great honor. It will please Night Walker, Bear’s Head, and our people for two of such high ranks to join. It will bring happiness to your father and mother, for a union will remove you from the path of peril on the hunt and in the battle. You can become a female again; you can have love, children, a tipi, and a mate. Our people need more children to make us larger and stronger, for our enemies grow bolder. One sun, Night Walker could be our chief. Others will not understand why you dishonor such a great man who is worthy of you and who meets our laws to leave the
tiva
rank. He rode as our son on the journey to the plains. We love, respect, and trust him. We will live in your tipi while he provides for us and protects us. I will have my lost daughter returned. We will work together again as we did before you took your vows and left me. That moon was hard for me, Kionee, for my selfish heart loved you above your sisters. They will be gone soon, joined to mates and with their own tipis and families. You need not speak of your thoughts and feelings this day, but think on my words and this good deed.” Martay rose and left before her firstborn could argue the matter.

Kionee stared after her mother in astonishment and
distress. She wondered if Martay spoke the entire truth or if her parent feared she would take off with Stalking Wolf if she refused Night Walker. Dread and fear washed over her as she felt the trap tighten around her. She could not accept Night Walker for a mate, and she did not know how Stalking Wolf would react to such an event if she were compelled somehow to consent.

It was midnight when Maja slipped inside the tipi and nudged Kionee awake. The entry flap had been left tied back for air to enter and then leave through the top opening. The silver wolf placed his mouth around her wrist in a gentle grip and tugged on it. Kionee suspected something was wrong. Without disturbing the others, she took a bow and quiver and a knife from her tipi-of-power and followed him.

Soon she discovered what Maja had sighted or smelled as he roamed the area for a last time: two Crow warriors were sneaking into the partially deserted Cheyenne camp. It was as if they had spied and knew most of the braves and many women were away on the hunt, and the others were slumbering on their mats. She wondered why they did not steal horses and possessions near the edge of the many circles, then surmised the daring enemies’ target from the direction they took. With caution, she and Maja hurried forward. The two Crow seemed to travel alone.

Kionee and the wolf reached Big Hump’s tipi just after the last Crow ducked and vanished inside. After discarding her bow and quiver and drawing her knife, she entered without making any noise. In the remaining firelight, she saw one with his blade lifted, ready to slay the chief as he slept, while the other was searching through the leader’s possessions with his back also to her. She feared there was not enough time to reach the
defenseless man before a fatal blow was struck; and the moment she revealed her presence, both would attack her. Yet, she knew she must try to save Stalking Wolf’s grandfather, his adopted father, even if it cost her her life.

“No!” she shouted in their language, causing both of the armed and experienced warriors to whirl and notice her.
Two against one,
her keen mind warned as they charged her with weapons brandished.

M
AJA BOUNDED THROUGH
the opening and leapt upon one attacker, seizing an armed wrist with powerful jaws and disabling it before Kionee could be hurt. The growling animal clamped down tighter, despite the rain of blows to his body and head. Finally letting go, Maja snapped at the man’s flailing arms, bare belly, and legs; as he did so, his strong mandibles inflicted many gashes which spewed blood. He began to nip at the man’s chin and chest in an attempt to reach his throat.

The silver wolf’s sudden appearance and the Crow’s yelps of pain and terror caused the second man to be distracted long enough for Kionee to prepare for his impending assault. He came at her in a crouched position, holding the blade point toward her. She made certain her weapon’s grip was secure and held herself loose for quick and easy movement. She knew it would require skill, cunning, and careful timing to best him. The man grinned to intimidate her and slashed at her, but she dodged his strike.

The Crow hurled himself at his smaller opponent, sidestepped, and slashed out again. He noticed the trick did not cause the
tiva
to stumble off balance or react with reckless abandon. His eyes brightened with respect for the masked challenger, whose prowess he had misjudged.
He knew he did not have time to outwit or wear down the other fighter. He went closer and raised his arm, hoping his rival’s gaze would follow the weapon while he slammed a fist into a vulnerable belly. His ploy failed and he received a stunning wound as the Hanueva ducked, surged forward with speed and agility, and sliced his side in passing.

Kionee watched the enemy whirl and glare at her. She heard the growls and scuffles and yells of Maja’s fierce battle, but did not dare a look to ensure her beloved creature was unhurt. She knew Big Hump had awakened and was calling out for help amidst the noise. She could hardly believe it when the Crow stormed at her and knocked her backward, for it cost him another injury on his arm. He snatched up the bundle of Four Sacred Arrows his friend had dropped and jumped through the entry hole. She raced after him, pausing only long enough to recover her bow and quiver outside. She yanked out an arrow and continued the chase. Without missing a step, she nocked it and fired. As the shaft left the bow, a drumbeat warned of peril and rousted the sleepers. She heard her target yell out in pain and watched him hit the ground.

Kionee rushed to where he had fallen and knew a blow from her knife was not necessary; he was dead. Big Hump and Maja joined her as people left their tipis to check on the commotion. She looked up at the elderly man who was staring at them in amazement. She reached for the bundle, then withdrew her hand. “Do you wish me to not touch them?” she asked. “They are sacred to you.”

“He who saves them is worthy to touch them” was the reply.

Kionee picked up the bundle and returned it to their Keeper, who clutched it against his bare chest with reverence and joy. She stroked Maja’s head with her fingertips.
Without his help, she would not be alive; nor would the man before her; something the chief also understood.

Big Hump shouted to the onlookers, “The danger is past. I am safe. Morning Light lives. Our enemies did not escape with our Sacred Arrows.”

The drumming ceased, and more Cheyenne observers arrived. People from her band hurried to the location, awakened and drawn by the noise. Night Walker, Little Weasel, and Red Bull were among them.

“You are Kionee and Maja of the Hanueva, friends and companions of my adopted son. Stalking Wolf told me of the skilled masked warrior and his cunning animal helper. I am honored you camp with us. Your coups are many and your courage is great.”

The ever-enlarging crowd parted for Medicine Eyes to approach. Her family, Bear’s Head, Spotted Owl, Regim, Goes Ahead, Taysinga, Runs Fast, and other Hanuevas merged with the group during the chiefs words.

With a look and in a tone of gratitude and esteem, Big Hump revealed, “This
tiva
and his wolf saved the life of your chief and saved our Sacred Arrows. Two Crow are dead, one in my tipi, both by their hands and skills.”

The shaman lifted his hands skyward and said, “The sacred vision is fulfilled: this Hanueva has done a glorious, brave, and generous deed for us. This is why
Maheoo
told us to protect them. After our hunters and women return, we must have a feast and sing the coups of Kionee and Maja.”

“It is so,” many Cheyenne agreed aloud.

“Tell us how you did this deed,” Medicine Eyes said.

After Kionee complied in their language, Big Hump ordered his braves who were present to place more guards around both camps. “Other Crow may raid or attack while our number is small,” he explained. These
were cunning, for they sneaked past those watching us.”

“It will be done, my chief,” responded the man in charge, who felt shame and weakness at allowing such a dangerous incident to occur.

Medicine Eyes sensed the man’s torment and said in a gentle tone, “You are not dishonored, Sharp Lance; lift your eyes in pride. This deed was in the hands of
Maheoo.
When the Crow do not return in victory, their tribe will know we are strong and alert and should not be challenged foolishly. It will make others slow to come. The Great Spirit chose Kionee and Maja for this honor and His will must not be questioned.”

“We must go to our mats and sleep,” Big Hump said in dismissal. “We will feast and honor our two friends after our people return.”

The chief thanked Kionee again and stroked Maja’s head after she told the animal his touch was a friendly one. He carried the precious bundle back to his tipi. The Cheyenne returned to their tipis, and the Hanueva walked to their camp.

After receiving praise from many of her people, Kionee accompanied her family toward their dwelling, with Night Walker close by. She had to repeat the tale for them, and they commended her courage and skills.

“You risk your life too many times, Kionee,” Night Walker rebuked. “We do not want to lose you to death.”

Without even glancing at him, she said, “I can follow no path except the one
Atah
makes for me. If He did not want me to save the Cheyenne chief, He would not have shown the enemies to Maja or sent Maja to guide me to that peril.”

“You should not walk into danger alone and outnumbered.”

Kionee was fatigued, and annoyed. If he had been the victor tonight, she fumed, he would feel differently. “There was no time to summon others, and Maja was at
my side,” she snapped. “We are skilled fighters, and we have proven ourselves in past battles with greater numbers of enemies. It is the duty of a guardian to protect others, with his life if
Atah
so wills it. If
you
had sighted the Crow, you would have gone alone.”

“My son is tired,” Martay told Night Walker. “He must rest. Speak to him again on the new sun when his head is clear and he is calm.”

For the first time in her life, Kionee almost had to bite her tongue to keep from scolding her mother for daring to make an excuse for her behavior. When Martay looked at her as if to say, You should not do that to him, Kionee narrowed her gaze in warning and stared at the woman for a moment without smiling, then quickened her pace to reach home. She put away her weapons and stretched out on her mat. When her family arrived, she rolled to her side away from them and closed her eyes to let them know not to disturb her. She called forth images of Stalking Wolf to comfort her until she could become a captive of slumber and lovely dreams.

When Kionee’s pattern of breathing told Strong Rock she was asleep, he whispered a reprimand to Martay, “Do not ever speak to our son before others in such an angry way. It is shameful and wrong.”

“Kionee
should not speak with sharp tongue to the son of our chief. Have you not guessed he desires our child as a woman? After the last hunt, he will come to ask for her in joining. Our law says it can be done. She will be freed of her rank and will face no more dangers which can take her from us.”

Strong Rock noticed Martay used “she” many times and that troubled him. “That does not change what you did this moon. Kionee is no longer a child to be punished with words or deeds. He is our hunter and guardian. Since I can no longer do my duty, our son took my place as the leader of our family. No woman speaks to a
family leader as you did. And, you spoke to Night Walker without asking permission.”

“I am sorry, Strong Rock, but I forgot my talking-feather in our rush to leave. I acted without thinking out of shame for Kionee’s actions.”

“You also forget Kionee was tired and tense from a death battle. You must ask our son’s forgiveness when light returns and you must not do these bad things again. Now, tell me of Night Walker’s desire for Kionee.”

Martay related her speculations and observations about the young man’s feelings and intentions, and confessed that she had spoken of all this to their child.

“You must not mention anything to Kionee again about leaving his rank, even to join to a chiefs son or to protect his life. Do not fill his head with confusion. Do not blind him to
Atah
’s will with your desires to regain a daughter or to pull him from a perilous trail. That is for the Creator to choose and for Kionee to agree. Do you wish her to join to Night Walker if she does not feel love and passion for him as we do for each other?”

Martay dared not mention her suspicions about Kionee and Stalking Wolf, for she had no proof she was right. Even if she was, that did not mean the warrior could lure their child away from them. She prayed she was wrong, as breaking their law would endanger Kionee’s life. Whether or not Kionee was guilty of wrongdoing, Martay knew she could not bring about Kionee’s exposure and punishment, for she loved her daughter. Too, they needed the Cheyenne people’s protection for survival during the hunt; to accuse the adopted son of the Strong Heart chief of trying to ensnare their child would be an insult that could break their bond. Perhaps, Martay excused her behavior, those fears were why she was pushing Kionee toward the safety of Night Walker’s arms.

After a patient moment Strong Rock asked his question again, Martay said, “No. I only wish for our child to be safe in the perilous suns ahead. As Night Walker’s mate, that would be true. He would be a good son to us.”

“Kionee’s happiness is more important, Martay. Our son has given up much to take care of us. He has earned many deeds of courage and generosity for his sash. If Night Walker does not catch his eye and heart, he cannot become a woman again to join to him to please you. That is fair and that is our law.”

Martay realized her mate had forgotten or had discarded his previous concerns about Kionee and Stalking Wolf, and she should do the same. She should rely on her trust in and love for Kionee to convince her not to worry. “You are right, Strong Rock. I will speak no more about it.”

“That is good. We must sleep now, for there is work on the new sun.”

Kionee, who had been listening silently, smiled to herself in joy and relief at her father’s words. She had feared her mother would convince him to help persuade her to join with Night Walker. Now, she told herself, she could relax and sleep in peace. But a new worry came to her: Had Martay hesitated to answer Strong Rock’s last question because she suspected something had happened between Kionee and Stalking Wolf? Kionee cautioned herself to do and say nothing to increase her mother’s concerns. Exhausted, she slept at last.

Two days later, the Cheyenne hunting party returned and was told the astonishing news about the Crow raid.

Stalking Wolf yearned to rush to Kionee’s side to make certain she was safe and unharmed. But he could
not. With one rash move, he reasoned, he could destroy the truce between them, an alliance needed for his love’s and her people’s survival. He told himself he would see her soon at the feast.
Iftivas are allowed to come,
his mind shouted in anger.
How,
his heart argued,
can they refuse when she is to be honored? Help unite us as one, Great Spirit, for she is my destiny and I love her.

The moment Stalking Wolf craved arrived when the Hanuevas reached the edge of their camp and the
tivas
were with them, wearing their ceremonial masks and best garments. He struggled against the almost overpowering urge to go speak with Kionee, but warned himself he must not approach the group which sat down together near a large campfire as directed by his shaman. He watched the rest of her tribe take places to the
tivas
’ left. As everyone was getting settled, he calmed a little when he sensed Kionee’s sly gaze on him. Without looking at the source of his desire, he smiled and nodded his awareness.

On the other side of the large fire sat the Cheyenne chief, council of forty-four, and the society leaders. Behind them were the warriors and braves, followed by women and children.

As the last rays of daylight touched the grasslands, Medicine Eyes stood in the center of the enormous circle of people and began the event. He lifted the ceremonial buffalo skull and asked for the Great Spirit’s guidance and protection and thanked their creator for life, successes on the first two hunts, and divine intervention during the Crow attack.

Kionee watched with interest as the shaman prayed and chanted; sometimes his words were clear and other times they were like mere sounds. His expression and tone were solemn; his mood, reverent and respectful.
His face and hands were lined by weather and aged and his flowing mane was more gray than black. His brown eyes beneath thick brows wore small white clouds. There was a slight bend to his back and rounding of his shoulders. The fringes on his shirtsleeves swayed from his movements. It was evident he was loved, esteemed, and trusted by his people.

Kionee allowed her gaze to roam the Strong Heart band with its seasoned warriors. She saw Stalking Wolf with the Dog-Men, the largest and most powerful and respected society. As were those near him, he was clad in their chosen regalia: red-striped leggings, eagle-bone whistle around his neck, and a striking headdress, which was made of four tailfeathers from a golden eagle. Those from hawk and crow filled its sides; and all feathers stood erect and were attached to a beaded band. The Dog-Men held ceremonial rattles and their faces and torsos were painted red. Most of them were barechested; a few had donned buckskin shirts with hairlocks, evincing the fact they had performed heroic deeds for their tribe. Some wore beaded bands around their upper arms or on their wrists. So many warriors clad in their finest garments or different regalias was an awesome sight. It made her glad they were allies.