Tiopa Ki Lakota

(tee-oh-pah kee lah-koh-tah)
The Lakota Doorway

© D. Jordan Redhawk

Note: A glossary of Lakota terms used and the cast of characters are listed at the end of the book. 

Chapter 1

Wi Ile Anpo
(wee ee-leh ahn-poh)

Sun is Burning at Dawn

1761

The warrior sat at the fire, quietly smoking a pipe. He had a buffalo robe wrapped about him to keep out the chill of the late winter evening. Before him was a fire that crackled and popped. He was not alone.

A woman, his woman's sister, was bustling around the fire to one side. As she finished preparing the evening meal, she divided her attention between two little girls. The youngest was three winters and the oldest six. The woman handed the eldest a clay bowl of stew. "Here. Bring this to your father."

With an eager smile and nod, she carefully took the steaming bowl and approached the warrior. "Ate?"

The man looked up from the fire. "Yes, cunksi," he said with a smile. He took the food from her. "Thank you, little one. Now go help your aunt with the baby."

Stopping only long enough to give her father a hug, the girl returned to the duties of keeping her little sister occupied.

Setting the bowl to one side, the warrior finished smoking his pipe in silent contemplation, steam from his breath mingling with the tobacco smoke.

Before him lay the winter camp of the Oglala Lakota. About thirty ti ikceyas lay around a large cleared area in a near circle. The only open space among them was on the eastern side where the entrance would face the rising sun. At the exact opposite of the communal space was a larger ti ikceya that was used as a meeting place for the elders and chiefs.

Finishing his tobacco, the warrior emptied the ashes into the fire so that the spirits could have the sacred smoke. His woman's sister was feeding the baby and his older daughter was seated nearby, watching everything with large brown eyes as she ate her own meal.

Behind the warrior was his woman's ti ikceya. In the flickering firelight, designs could be seen painted on the buffalo hide. The doorway was closed, a separate leather skin covering it. But it didn't close off the noises coming from within. A man's voice, the medicine man, was singing. Another's, the shaman, was chanting a spell of protection. Beneath them could be heard the sounds of a woman moaning in pain.

The warrior ate his meal quietly. Around the clearing, other families were gathered around their own lodges, all minding their own business but also out and about in silent support of him. The elders were gathered at the main fire by the council ti ikceya, smoking their pipes and discussing where to set up the summer camp in the following months.

In the lodge behind him, a sudden piercing scream rent the air. The camp seemed to freeze, all appearing to hold their collective breath in trepidation. And then a thin wail from an indignant newborn christened the night sky and the camp returned to its activities in relief. A few more moments passed as the men inside finished their prayers and incantations. The babe's voice eventually died down.

When the shaman and medicine man stepped out of the ti ikceya, the woman by the fire gathered up the children and herded them both inside. This seemed to break the tableau around the camp. As the two men sat at the warrior's fire, the women from the other lodges began trailing closer, intent on offering assistance to the new mother.

The three men sat in silence for a few moments. The shaman pulled out a bundle of fur and carefully unwrapped a pipe. It was made of an antelope antler and intricately carved and decorated. The other men watched as he carefully loaded the bowl with tobacco. He crouched forward and, with nimble fingers, used two twigs to lift a burning ember, lighting the pipe.

The glow from the fire lit his fairly unlined face. His name was Inyan Ceye and he was young to be a shaman. Only thirty-four winters. But his father had taught him since he was a boy and, with the elder's death this past winter from the coughing sickness, the younger had taken over his father's duties in the camp.

He spoke a prayer as he offered the smoke to the four directions. And then he took a puff of the pipe, using his free hand to guide the smoke towards his head and behind. Smoke was sacred and of the spirit. Its protective powers were legendary.

The shaman handed the pipe, stem first, to the warrior who repeated the process of smoking and guiding the cloud closer. And it was passed to the medicine man who did the same. The men sat in silence, finishing this ritual. When the bowl held nothing but ashes, the shaman tapped it into the fire, releasing the last of it for the great spirits that ruled their world.

The warrior waited patiently, although his worries were growing by leaps and bounds the longer the wise men remained silent. He breathed a faint sigh of relief when the medicine man cleared his throat in preparation of speaking.

"It was a difficult birth," the old man observed as he stared into the fire. "Your woman will not have any more children."

The warrior nodded. "And the child?"

"Healthy and strong," the elder informed him. "Did you hear her cry out?"

A girl. "Yes, I did." The warrior stared into the flames, as well. Another girl. And no sons.

Sensing the warrior's sinking thoughts, the shaman spoke up. "I received a vision as she was placed into my hands, Wanbli Zi," he intoned, leaning forward and peering intently at the warrior.

The warrior's dark eyes were dragged towards the shaman's and snared. He could feel a sense of waiting fill him.

"When she cried out, I could hear the scream of the igmu in her voice. In her eyes was the fire of a warrior. She will follow her father in his path."

Wanbli Zi frowned, eyes narrowing in disbelief. "But.... But it is a girl child. My cunksi."

The shaman leaned back and broke the gaze. He carefully rewrapped the pipe in his hands. "Her destiny does not lie in women's work." he insisted softly.

The warrior turned to look in puzzlement at the medicine man.

The elder shrugged. "It has been done before, though not for many, many seasons. A woman being raised as warrior and hunter for her family. She could do this thing."

"Yes," the shaman agreed, putting the now bundled pipe back into its leather pouch. "And you will have a cinksi to care for you - to hunt when you can no longer, to protect you from war, to support you in you elder seasons."

The warrior sat in silence, contemplating this odd turn of events. The pair of wise men remained quiet, as well, giving him room to think. If what the shaman says is a true vision.... No man will be able to tame her. No man will want her.

The shaman and medicine man sat and waited. Women and children bustled quietly past the trio to the ti ikceya and away with their offers of help and gifts and food.

After quite some time, Wanbli Zi rose to his feet and strode towards the now busy opening of his woman's lodge. He scattered several women and children like quail flushed from high grass. He ducked inside and was back out in seconds, a lively bundle squawking at the rude interruption. He returned to the fire and settled back down. Behind him, his woman's sister and mother peered out of the ti ikceya.

With surprising gentleness, the warrior unwrapped the bundle, revealing a newborn girl with thick black hair and ruddy, wrinkled skin. Her tiny hands were in fists and she flailed them around, shivering in the cold air. Wanbli Zi held a finger out and one fist swatted it before grasping with a strong grip. The digit was brought promptly to the hungry mouth and he could feel tiny gums against the finger pad. Her cries silence, he leaned closer.

Dark eyes stared back up at him.

Coming to a decision, he smiled. He rose and looked to the two men at his fire. Holding the baby high overhead, her cries vied with his voice as he made an announcement to the camp. "This is Cinksi, my son of the heart. She will grow strong. She will learn the arts of war and how to speak with the spirits. She will become a fierce hunter and provide for her family."

His voice carried throughout the camp. Once he finished, he sat back down and bundled his daughter against the chill. There was a hubbub of voices as the women and older children discussed the implications of his pronouncement. The younger warriors quietly scoffed, knowing that no woman would ever best them. And the elders remained silent, smoking and contemplating this turn of events.

1767

Cinksi fought her natural childish instincts to fidget. It wasn't that what her father was doing wasn't interesting. It was the pack of boys that kept distracting her as they rampaged past, whooping and brandishing small weapons at each other.

"Watch closely," Wanbli Zi instructed, drawing his daughter's eyes back to the task at hand. "This is the knot we use." And he slowly demonstrated as he tied the wet rawhide strip on the spear haft. Once complete, he turned it to study the handiwork. "When the rawhide dries, it will tighten and the spearhead will not fall out." He used his other hand to gesture the girl closer.

She scooted forward on the buffalo robe and peered at the spear. With careful hands, she tried to wiggle the head but it held fast. She looked at her father, impressed. "It is already so strong, Ate.... Even wakan tanka couldn't move it when the rawhide dries!"

The warrior chuckled. "If wakan tanka were to want this spear in pieces, it would be so, child," he murmured.

The crowd of rowdy boys ran past and Cinksi's eyes were again torn away from the spear.

With an understanding smile, Wanbli Zi put the spear to one side. From beneath another robe, he pulled a second spear out, this one a miniature version of his own. The tip was made of blunted antler. "Cinksi."

The girl turned back to her father. When she saw what he held, her eyes widened and a hopeful smile creased her face.

"For you, Cinksi," the warrior handed the smaller weapon to the girl. "Now, go. Show the hoksila that you are far better than any of them."

Cinksi needed no further prodding. She took the spear, gave her father a huge hug and raced away to catch up with the boys.

Wanbli Zi watched his daughter go, clad only in moccasins and breechclout. What the shaman had said six winters ago had become true. The warrior simply could not envision his youngest child as a proper girl. Her aptitude and interests lay with her father's in all ways and had done so from the beginning.

The warrior looked up to the sky and sent a silent prayer of thanks to the spirits before cleaning up the detritus of his project.

The boys were huddled behind the furthest tent on the north side of camp. There were seven of them, ranging in age from six to nine winters, dressed in breechclouts and moccasins. They heatedly debated something among themselves, their voices trailing off as the newcomer's presence was noticed.

Cinksi had slowed to a walk when she got close to them. Her heart beat loudly in her chest as seven pairs of eyes stared at her. The girl could hear her father's voice in her ear. "A true warrior feels fear yet moves through it, becoming brave."

"Be brave," she murmured to herself. The girl threw her shoulders back and raised her chin to stare haughtily back as she marched forward. Stopping before the biggest boy, she glared up at him and set the butt of her new spear on the ground by her foot. A small puff of dust arose from it and settled back down.

The taller boy examined her much like she was a particularly fat bug underneath a rock. "Who are you?" he demanded, knowing the answer. No one was a stranger in the camp.

"I am Cinksi. My father is Wanbli Zi," was the regal reply.

The boy looked her up and down. With a playful tug at her breechclout, he snickered, "I heard you were a wicincala."

The other boys chuckled as well, but the smaller girl in their midst refused to be daunted. She didn't flinch away from the tugging on her clothing. "I am."

The boy immediately lost interest in her. "Go home, little wicincala. We don't play with dolls here." His dark eyes fell on the spear she held. "And you don't play with weapons." He plucked it from her hands.

Cinksi was stunned. She watched the boy heft the spear her father had given her, checking its weight and balance as he turned away. The other boys in the group were laughing, preparing to follow. It was utterly inconceivable that the boy would do such a thing, let along think he could get away with it. The world seemed to slow down as the adrenaline of anger sparked the fire the shaman had seen so many winters ago.

The spear was a good one, the weight comfortable in his hands. Wanbli Zi made it well, the boy conceded as he prepared to trot away. And then he was on the ground, gasping for breath as an angry child pounced on him. He was more surprised than hurt but the girl had driven the air from his lungs and he couldn't collect himself enough to respond. Two of the other boys in his pack pulled the small girl off him and he clambered to his feet.

Cinksi continued to struggle with her captors, growling wildly. The ones holding her, were now fearful for themselves and weren't about to let her go. The other boys stood back in awe as they watched the altercation. The eldest rose to his feet and dusted himself off.

He crouched down in front of her, studying her curiously. "You are crazy, wicincala," he said. "You should not fight me. I am older and stronger and bigger."

The girl had lessened her struggles a bit and glared back at him. "I will still fight you! Until the day I die!"

"But, you will lose, Cinksi."

"I do not care! Someday I will be bigger and stronger and then I will win."

The boy picked up the spear that had fallen to the ground during the scuffle. He looked it over carefully, dusting it off a bit and adjusting a feather that was adorning it. "All this for a spear?"

The girl's teeth could almost be heard grinding. "My father gave me that spear as a gift. It would dishonor him and myself to let it be stolen from me." She left unspoken the thought of who else would be dishonored.

She has much courage for being a wicincala. Looking up to the boys holding her arms, the eldest said, "Let her go."

Cinksi nearly stumbled as she was suddenly released. She caught herself and pulled her small frame upright in a proud stance. "I will fight you now."

The boy silently handed her the spear instead.

Frowning, the girl took the spear back into her possession. Her dark eyes narrowed as she studied her tormentor.

"My name is Nupa Olowan. My father is Wi Sape. I am very sorry for the dishonor I have shown you."

The rest of the boys stared at him as if he'd suddenly grown two heads.

The girl thought about it for a few seconds before appearing mollified. "I will still fight you," she offered in a calmer voice.

Nupa smiled at her. "If you wish. Can you and I have a truce? Until you get older and stronger?" He refrained from laughing at her serious demeanor as she considered his request.

Finally, the girl nodded. "Yes. You and I can have a truce until then."

"Good!" He straightened and looked at the other boys. "Cinksi stays with us. I never would have thought I would see the day when a wicincala would fight me for a weapon!" He inhaled deeply of the summer air. "Let's go hunting!" he yelled before turning and running off.

As expected, the boys hared off after him, accepting his decision. Cinksi stood in place for a second. Just a second. That was much easier than I thought it would be. And then she raced after them, adding her own voice to their whooping and calling.

After two moons in the company of the boys, Cinksi was accepted as a well respected member. She and the oldest boy, Nupa, had become fast friends. If one did not think of some sort of mischief to get into, the other did. And, despite her age and size, Cinksi was becoming very adept at beating the boys on all levels of physical prowess.

Currently, the eight of them were playing near the camp in the tall grass. It was towards the end of summer and their naturally dark skin had grown a deeper shade of brown under the sun's ministrations. Less than a mile away a cloud of dust rose from where the hunting party was attacking a herd of buffalo in the last communal hunt of the season. The herd had been sighted three days ago and the entire camp had traveled to this spot.

In response to all the excitement over the last few days, the pack of children had begun their own hunting party, preparing to swoop down on the buffalo - a mangy bitch and her three puppies. They had split into two groups to outflank their quarry, Nupa leading one and Cinksi the other.

A drop of sweat trickled down the girl's intense face, but she didn't wipe it away. Her party had closed in on the left flank and she didn't want to move and give her position away to the dogs. It had taken the better part of the morning to gain this spot, a small hillock with a dip in the center that kept the small family beneath her hidden from general view. The inexperienced hunters had flushed the mother and her pups twice already. One more time and Cinksi was going to forget about the elusive bitch and return to her mother's ti ikceya for something to eat.

On the other side of the dip, she could see a spear head slowly raise from the ground. It waved gently side to side, two times. In response, the small girl used hand signals to her party, preparing them for the attack. And then she heard Nupa's war whoop and the eight of them surged forward, hollering at the top of their lungs as they 'hunted' the dogs.

The puppies scattered in clumsy surprise, yelping in fright at the sudden cacophony about them. The boys and Cinksi pretended to thrust spears into them as the trio scampered away. Their mother, a mean spirited animal by most of the camp's definition, got hold of one boy's spear and a tug of war ensued. Eventually, the remainder of the hunting party had forgotten the pups, laughing at the antics of the boy with the spear as the dog growled and gnawed her way on the haft.

Nupa finally aimed a kick at her, to distract her from her chewing, and she pulled away to snap at his moccasin before trotting back towards her offspring. Once she was sure that all her pups were present and unharmed, she urged them away from the gaggle of attackers, keeping a watchful eye.

Cinksi threw herself down onto the grass, peering up at the deep blue sky. Most of the other boys followed suit. The only one remaining on his feet was the boy who was studying the damage to his weapon.

One boy pulled a waterskin from where it hung across his shoulder and took a long drink before passing it along. "I wonder how many buffalo my father took down?" he idled.

"Your father is a good hunter," another answered. "But my father and brother will kill more than him."

Nupa had his turn at the waterskin before handing it to Cinksi. "I had a dream last night. A vision."

That information garnered the attention of the group, several sitting up to peer at the oldest boy closely.

"What did you see in your vision?" Cinksi asked, intrigued.

"My father, Sape, killed two bulls. Your father," and he nodded at the girl beside him, "killed a bull and a cow." And then he went around the circle and pointed to each of the boys, informing them how many kills their fathers and brothers had made.

One boy looked suspicious. "Are you sure it was a vision, Nupa?"

Indignant, the older boy puffed his chest out. "Want to bet on the outcome of the hunt?" When there were no immediate takers, he said, "Unless you believe my vision was a true one."

"I bet my spear that you are wrong," the smallest boy said with a stern expression.

This seemed to be the catalyst and each child began making bets of their personal items and toys. Those who believed in Nupa's vision put up their items to back his. The spear that Cinksi's father had made her two moons ago was bet in support of her friend.

There was the sound of a horse and Nupa rose to his feet, he being the tallest to see over the small hollow and tall grass they were lying in. "There's a rider! The hunt must be finished!" He looked down to the pack, excitement in his dark eyes. "Let's go see if I am right!"

The eight of them stood and trotted towards the camp that was now humming with industriousness.

Once word of the hunt being finished reached the camp, the women and older girls gathered their knives and other accoutrements. All members of the camp proceeded to the killing fields with an excited buzz. They soon began picking over the corpses of the huge animals that had been slain by their warrior husbands and sons and brothers, identifying each by markings on the arrows and spears that were used to kill them.

The boys all gathered with their older male family members, as the excited tales of the hunt began to be discussed. Soon, as the women and girls worked in the field skinning the great beasts, the men were sitting at the council fire, smoking pipes and filling the boys' ears with stories.

Cinksi hung on her father's every word as he described waiting on the ridge above the tiny valley. She could almost feel the dry wind as her father received the signal to attack and swooped down on his pony to harry the herd.

The buffalo had been startled, initially milling around in surprise at the sudden danger before finally settling on a course. They had stampeded and the sounds of their hooves on the hard packed earth were like the thunder in a stormy sky. Her father had pulled his horse near a well grown bull and had let his arrow fly. The buffalo had stumbled and fell to its death as he continued on to his next likely target. The second was a pregnant cow that hadn't die immediately. Her father had stopped his chase and put the cow out of her misery, a dangerous task as the wounded animal thrashed in terror and pain. By the time that was finished, the hunt had been completed, the remainder of the herd stampeding off.

As the stories trickled through, some of the older girls began arriving with the raw livers of their kills. Cinksi's eldest sister trotted up with a breathless smile and handed three of the livers wrapped in a skin to her father with an exuberant smile.

Wanbli Zi took his delicacy, thanking his daughter. He settled the bundle on the robe he was seated on and pulled a knife of obsidian form the sheath hanging around his neck. With great care, he sliced the two larger livers into chunks and passed them to others around the fire even as they did the same with their own prizes. The liver of the animals were strong in spirit and endowed the Lakota hunters with strength and courage. In this way, all the men of the camp could partake of the spirit, even the elder council members who did not participate in the hunt.

The smallest liver, that from the fetus held within the cow Wanbli Zi had slain, was held up in front of Cinksi. The warrior looked down upon his youngest daughter with grave intent. "This is the liver of the unborn tatanka whose mother was killed by my hand. Tonight, we will all feast on it after it has been boiled."

Cinksi's eyes were full of love and adoration as she listened avidly.

"Today, however, I give this liver to you, my cinksi of the heart, so that you may grow strong and brave." And the warrior handed the small organ to his daughter.

The girl's dark eyes widened in surprise. "Thank you, Ate," she murmured with delight in her voice. She received the meat and bit into it, savoring the saltiness of the fresh blood, the tenderness of the organ's texture. Cinksi could almost feel the surge of energy from the unborn buffalo's spirit fill her as she finished her treat. And then another warrior was speaking, telling his tale of the hunt and all eyes were on him.

And so the late morning went. After the women had finished their duties of skinning the animals and slicing up the meat, everyone in the camp returned to where the carcasses were laid out and helped transport them back to the camp. By the early afternoon, the hides had been staked out and meat was cut into strips to dry in the sun. The atmosphere was one of happiness and excitement, as the camp prepared to feast that evening.

There was a creek nearby that the warriors cleaned themselves in while the shaman, Inyan Ceye, was off seeking a vision. Cinksi ran off after the pack of boys as they scampered off to reenact the hunt as they had heard it. The women and girls had already cleaned themselves of the butchering and were beginning to roast meat or tan the hides of the buffalo.

"Nupa!" the girl called. "You were right! My father did kill a bull and a cow!"

This brought the attention of the other boys. They all considered what their fathers and brothers had told them of the hunt, comparing it to what Nupa had seen in his vision the night before. Eerily, the eldest boy was correct in all of his accounts.

"You should be a shaman," a boy said, his dark eyes wide. The others agreed with him.

Nupa shook his head in scorn. "No. I do not wish to be a shaman. It was just one dream. Nothing more."

"Maybe we should start our own society from your vision," Cinksi suggested.

Around her, the boys gave their heartfelt approval to the idea.

"We could create a ritual and a song," one added.

Another boy spoke up, fingering the feathers on his spear, "And a special dance."

As the pack bowed their heads together, ideas filling the air around them, a thunder could be heard in the distance. It took a few moments for any of them to notice, until Nupa suddenly sat upright and said, "Wait! Listen!"

The thunder grew louder and the reverberations in the ground under their behinds signaled something moving closer. Most of the pack stood and peered around, searching for the source.

It was still light out, the end of summer allowing for the long daylight yet. The warriors of the camp had noticed the approaching riders, as well, and were up and ready for whatever came their way.

In the distance, a group could be seen approaching on their ponies. As they came closer, their appearance became one of the Lakota band under the chief, Zintkala T'e Zito. They came from the south, but circled around the established camp until they reached the eastern entrance. There they rode into the cleared area, a group of seven warriors, none of them looking particularly happy.

As the party had entered through the proper entrance of the camp and the two bands were not at war, most of the warriors relaxed a bit. But their weapons were still kept close at hand. The pack of younger boys and Cinksi came pelting back into the clearing to watch the proceedings.

The obvious leader of the party glared down from his pony.

Their own chief, Wagmiza Wagna, approached with a welcoming smile on his face. "Please! Come to our feast this night! The great wakan tanka has blessed this camp with great bounty and we would enjoy it with the brave warriors of Zintkala T'e Zito!"

"Hoh!" the new arrival spat. "Your people have chased away the tatanka that we were preparing to hunt. We will not eat the meat offered from thieves!" His pony pranced around in response to the rider's agitation.

Wagmiza Wagna sobered at the insult, his face becoming stone. He cast warning looks at the younger warriors of his camp who bristled in response. "No man owns tatanka. The meat cannot have been stolen from you and yours. Had we known you were in the area, we would have offered to hunt with you."

"That is not acceptable! We will return to our people and seek a vision of war." And with that pronouncement, the leader whirled his pony around and raced out of the camp, his party of warriors following, whooping and hollering.

Cinksi watched the old chief sadly shake his head. A peek at her father and she could see a face comprised of worry and anger. "Ate?" she asked, reaching up to tug on the end of his shirt.

Wanbli Zi looked down at his daughter, the expression faded to one of love. "Yes, Cinksi?" He placed a large hand on her head, caressing the thick, dark hair.

"Are we going to go to war?"

His dark eyes looked up, into the distance where the riders had ridden off to. "I do not know, Cinksi. We shall see."

1768

It was the noise that woke her up. Bleary eyed, Cinksi sat up in her buffalo robes and rubbed her eyes. To her left was her father who was also rising, albeit with more energy. As he scooped up a spear and headed for the tiopa, the girl's mother was getting up, a dress being pulled over her head as she spoke rapidly to her three children.

"Wake up! Wake up! We are being attacked!"

Galvanized, Cinksi dived out of bed, still wearing her breechclout and grabbing for her own spear. Her heart beat a tattoo in her rib cage and fear was an icy trickle down her spine. As her older sisters both dressed, she dashed for the tiopa, ignoring the warnings of her mother.

Peeking past the leather covering, she saw the camp in a turmoil. Ponies were kicking up dirt in the central clearing, their riders howling and attacking her people as they ran about. Women and children were running away and the men were standing and fighting their attackers, who were painted in garish colors that could be clearly seen in the early dawn.

Cinksi saw her father standing before the tent in nothing but his breechclout, his long hair flying as he reached out with his spear and unseated an enemy. He clubbed the other man who sank into unconsciousness before tossing a look over his shoulder and seeing his youngest child.

"Cinksi! Protect your mother and sisters!" Wanbli Zi yelled. And then he turned back to parry another attack from someone else.

The girl could see several of the ti ikceyas were being brought down by the horsemen. Embers from the banked fires were scattering like fireflies under the ponies hooves.

Even as she watched, a face painted with streaks of blood red seemed to rear up in front of her, leering. Cinksi yelled in surprise and automatically thrust her spear at her attacker, scratching his face. As he cried out in pain, she scrambled backward into her mother's lodge.

Behind the man, Wanbli Zi turned and saw him. Within seconds, his spear was imbedded in flesh, turning red with blood.

Inside the ti ikceya, Cinksi's sisters were huddled at their mother's side. She prowled near the doorway, not sticking her head out of it again. It was frightening, the not knowing, but her father had given her a task and she would die doing it.

Above her there was a whipping sound and she looked up. The top of the lodge was ominously moving back and forth. As it toppled from the rope that had been thrown around the poles and pulled by a horse, she pounced on her family, shielding the youngest of her siblings with her own body.

There was a loud crash and a scream near her ear. A heavy weight thudded too close for comfort, grazing Cinksi's arm, and then buffalo hide was suddenly surrounding them. Followed by silence that was broken only by the attacking party's whoops as they raced away.

Cinksi gingerly raised her head, trying to see through the buffalo hide that was the ti ikceya. The younger sister was beneath her, crying, and she could hear her mother trying to get out from beneath the stifling weight.

The girl moved, trying to increase her range of motion. She was able to succeed and found she could move her spear. Just a little bit. With steady pressure, Cinksi edged the spear to a place against the hide, hoping to cut an opening since her knife was still at her sleeping area. All the while, she was murmuring encouragement to the sibling beneath her.

As she worked, she could hear her father's yell as he called for his family. Her mother responded, guiding him to where they were huddled. Other voices could be heard, the men gathering to help remove the large logs that were pinning Wanbli Zi's family beneath the hide.

And then they were free. And Cinksi was helping her younger sister from where she was cowering. She could see her mother fighting through, crying, blood on her arms though there was no wound.

Cinksi's eldest sister did not come out.

The wind was blowing gently, rustling Cinksi's hair which had been cut short in mourning. She stood next to her father as they regarded her elder sister's burial. Her mother and sister had already left, wailing in misery at their loss.

Wanbli Zi looked down at his youngest child and felt pride fill his heart. He was sure that, had Cinksi not thrown herself across her sister, there would be two children dead. "You are a very brave wicincala," he said. "You protected your sister from harm."

Cinksi's dark eyes were wet with tears and her lower lip was pouted out. "But, I could not save my cuwekala," she sniffed, grasping her father's hand. "Maybe if I had done something else....?"

The warrior crouched down in front of his daughter. "No warrior can save every one who is in danger. Not even ones you love, Cinksi. And no warrior should question what is past. To do so will make you crazy with pain and grief. What is done, is done." He pulled her into an embrace. As she nuzzled his chest, her sobs becoming audible, he said, "I think that everyone in the camp is proud of what you have done, putting yourself into danger to save your sister. You have a true warrior spirit, my cunksi. For all of your seven winters, you are stronger and braver than most men."

Cinksi let her father's words wash over her as she mourned her elder sister's passing. To herself, she vowed, I will always protect my people from harm. I will always strive to be stronger and braver than most men. And then she thought, I will be like my father.

1773

The sound of hooves approaching garnered Cinksi's attention. She looked up from her task, braiding leather and hair together with three small feathers, to see her friend. Nupa was considered a warrior now at fifteen winters, a man. He carried himself tall and proud in his saddle as his pony trotted closer.

"Hau, Cinksi!" he called as he neared.

The girl grinned and waved at him, tucking her project back into a pouch and jumping from a rock to her own pony. She noticed several other young men riding closer, relieving the older children of their duty to guard the herd of ponies as night grew closer.

They pulled up short next to each other.

"How was the day?" he asked with a smile.

"Bad. Nothing happened."

Nupa laughed, his voice still sounding strange to the girl's ears now that it had lowered. "Nothing happening is a good thing, Cinksi!" he insisted.

"Not if you were out here," she grumbled good-naturedly. Glancing at the other riders who were out of earshot, she asked in a low voice, "Do you know when we are to reach summer camp?"

"The elders say sometime in the next two days." Nupa scratched idly at one of the scars on his chest. "Are they going to allow you to do the Sun Dance?"

Cinksi hung her head. "Hiya. The elders say I am wicincala and only hoksila can do the Sun Dance."

Her friend's face frowned in sympathy. "I am sorry, Cinksi. You, of all of us, should be able to participate in the Sun Dance. You are the bravest warrior I know!"

The girl shrugged slightly, spirits raised a bit at her best friend's praise. "I will seek a vision when I reach my womanhood," she avowed.

"That would be good. And then, no elder can deny you." Nupa looked around at the change of guard. "Go home, Cinksi. Your mother is making a stew. I almost stopped at her lodge to eat before coming out here."

Cinksi chuckled. "I am surprised you still live with your own mother. You spend so much time with mine." She dodged under his expected swing and brought her arm around to touch him on the back as she kicked her pony forward. "You are slain!" And then she rode away. Fast.

It was a common belief among the tribe that Cinksi and Nupa would marry. They had been constant companions from the first, stirring up trouble wherever they set their minds and leading the pack of boys to all sorts of altercations. However, both of them had already decided that this would not be the case. He had no interest in marriage and knew that she would turn him down if he asked. Nupa wanted a woman like his mother, not to live with another warrior. And Cinksi couldn't even conceive of doing women's work, not even for her best friend.

The pair found the assumption amusing, however, and played it up upon occasion - becoming doe-eyed towards each other before suddenly bursting into an argument that would cause the both of them to tumble to the ground, wrestling. As time went on, Nupa was winning far less frequently and Cinksi's strength was growing. The elders would simply shake their heads and smoke their pipes while the younger members of the camp would bet on their favorites.

Cinksi arrived at her mother's ti ikceya and jumped off her pony. She stopped to scratch the reddish brown horse on the forehead before turning him back towards the herd. With a gentle slap on his withers, the pony trotted back the way he came, heading for the remainder of the herd and good grazing. The girl watched him go with great fondness.

He is getting older. Not as young and spry, she mused as she turned towards the lodge. I will need another soon. She remembered the day her father had presented the horse to her - a reward for her bravery in saving her sister. It still saddened her that she hadn't saved her eldest sibling. But her spirit is free now.

Cinksi moved to the firepit that was being utilized in front of the lodge and settled down.

Her father was seated to her left at the fire, the tiopa of the lodge at his back. Wanbli Zi glanced up at his youngest, flashing her a quick smile before returning to fletching an arrow.

Two women were across the flames from Cinksi. The younger one appeared to be no older than Nupa, a beautiful girl nearing full maturity. And sharing many characteristics with the youngest daughter of Wanbli Zi. The other woman was older and resembled them both, with hair turning gray like her man's. Both of them were bustling over the fire and a wondrous aroma was wafting towards the young girl, causing her stomach to rumble.

The elder woman filled a bowl with stew and handed it to Wanbli Zi who made appropriate noises of gratification as he set his arrow aside. A second bowl was brought to Cinksi.

"Thank you, ina," the girl smiled, accepting it. "It smells very good." Cinksi immediately dug into the repast with a great show of enjoyment.

"How were the ponies?" Wanbli Zi asked as he ate.

The girl shrugged. "They are fine. The travel has done them good. That fat pony of Hwa's has even lost some weight." Looking up from her bowl, Cinksi commented, "My pony's getting old. I will have to find another."

The man nodded solemnly. "Perhaps at the summer camp. You will have to train your own this time."

"Do you think I could trade for it?" she asked, finishing her stew.

"Possibly. You might want to wager instead. Or race or wrestle. You do all these things well." Wanbli Zi watched his youngest fondly as she held her bowl out to her sister to be refilled.

"I will do that, then," Cinksi decided. "Nupa says we may be at summer camp within two days." She watched her sister blush at her friend's name and grinned. Perhaps Nupa will be my brother-in-law!

"It will be good to have a rest from our travels." The warrior finished his own meal and, in an exact echo of his daughter's gesture, he held the bowl out to his woman for more.

And so the evening went. After the meal, Cinksi's mother and sister cleaned up and proceeded to work on their own projects. The elder woman, Waniyetu Gi, was involved in resewing a pair of moccasins that had worn through a seam. Her daughter, Hca Wanahca, was grinding a bone needle to a point on a well worn rock.

Wanbli Zi, finished with the fletching of his arrow, rose to his feet. He nodded at Cinksi, who stood as well, and the pair of them drifted over to the main fire where the men of the camp were gathering. There, the men smoked and talked, telling stories and singing songs. Many of the older boys were there, listening, learning.

Eventually, the hour grew late and the fire was allowed to burn down. The men drifted off to their women's and mother's ti ikceyas for the night. Tomorrow they planned to be up early and on their way, one day closer to the summer camp.

Cinksi ducked into the lodge and glanced about. The firepit was in the center, her father's robes across it and opposite the door in the respected place. Her mother was already rolled up in the robes, awaiting her man's arrival. To the right, Hca Wanahca was pulling a wooden comb through her long hair.

The younger girl averted her gaze, visually avoiding the area as she stepped over to her own sleeping robes nearby. Living in a ti ikceya with a number of people, avoidance was a common practice within. It was the only way to guarantee privacy. Respectfully, the younger girl's family returned the favor and did not look towards her as she pulled off her shirt and prepared for bed.

For a long time, Cinksi lay in her robes, her hands behind her head as she gazed up to the juncture of several logs that was the top of the lodge. Soon we will be at summer camp and there will be a Sun Dance. She thought of the men who would be attempting the Sun Dance this season.

Last season, Nupa had vowed to do the Sun Dance when he had survived a sickness through the winter. Others who felt that they needed to prove themselves to the spirits or show their appreciation for their help would do so this season. Cinksi knew of three here in camp who would be participating as dancers. But none of them will be me, she thought mournfully.

While the Sun Dance was not written in stone, changing and evolving fluidly over the seasons, the one thing that appeared constant was the fact that no wicincala had ever danced. Cinksi had begun to wonder exactly what she could do should she call upon wakan tanka for assistance and receive it. There has to be some way to show my gratitude. Maybe I will be able to talk the shaman into allowing me.

Cinksi drifted off to sleep, hearing the drums and songs of the Sun Dance, feeling the sun on her face as she danced, feeling the tug of the ropes where they were attached to her shoulders and back.

Cinksi awoke in the pre-dawn hours of the morning. All was silent and peaceful, the sun not yet beginning to grey the sky. She rolled over onto her side and brought her arms around her middle. Her belly ached considerably, feeling as if someone had put a rope around her and was pulling it tight. The pain came and went, cramping.

Unsure of what was happening, she worriedly considered calling to her mother, asking for the medicine man. And then a fresh cramp hit unexpectedly and she moaned a little. She rocked in agony until the pain let up.

There was moisture between her legs. Did I wet my robes? she wondered, her fears gaining ground. I haven't done that since I was a baby! Cinksi's hand delved beneath her breechclout, feeling a heavy slickness. Pulling her hand out, the embers from the firepit showed only a dark stain on her fingers. The girl squinted in the dim light, trying to understand just what the substance was. And then they widened as she understood.

I am bleeding! she thought. Another cramp hit her and she moaned again, her heart pounding in fear. I am going to die! Once the pain subsided again, she struggled out of her robes, crawling towards her older sister, to wake her, to get help. I do not want to die!

Hca was rousted from sleep by a frantic little sister. There were whispered words as Cinksi explained what was happening and that she was going to bleed to death. When the older girl comprehended the reality of the situation, she urged the younger back to her robes. "I will take care of you, mitankala, she whispered.

Cinksi did as she was told, wondering why her sister did not wake their parents, did not call the medicine man and the shaman. She watched in pain as Hca slipped her dress over her head and moved away from her bedding to rummage around in the herbal stores their mother kept.

"Here," Hca murmured as she returned. She handed her little sister a root. "Chew on this while I make a tea for you. It will help with the pain." The older girl kindly caressed Cinksi's head and smiled. "It will be fine. Trust me. You are becoming a woman now." She then moved to the remains of the fire and stirred up flames to heat some water.

Chewing on the root, Cinksi watched, frowning. I am becoming a woman? This is the bleeding time? Many questions filled her mind regarding this new insight and she resolved to ask her sister and mother about them as soon as possible. Another wave of pain hit her and she gasped and rocked.

Hca returned a few minutes later with an herbal tea to help with the pain. She insisted that Cinksi drink it all before it cooled to get the healing benefits from the herbs. Hca then gave whispered instructions on what to wear, helping the younger girl put on the necessary items to contain the bleeding. Afterwards, she held her sister's head in her lap, caressing her hair and crooning a soft song that their mother used to sing to them when they were babes.

The pain backed away and the younger girl relaxed, a weariness stealing over her. She drifted off to sleep with a lullaby in her ear.

Cinksi carefully placed the sacred bundle in the branches of a tree near the summer camp. She murmured a prayer to the spirits, asking for a vision of her adulthood before she climbed back down and settled at the base of it.

It had been a week since she first began bleeding. The camp had made it to the summer place a day later and she had spent quite a bit of time with her sister and mother. Apparently, Wanbli Zi had been informed of the new state of affairs with his youngest daughter and had stayed away.

For a while, Cinksi was worried that she would have to give up her path and become a woman, but that had not come to pass. She was taught by the women of her camp the ways of the bleeding - how to protect against the painful spirits that invaded her belly when it happened, what to do with the soiled clothing used to capture the fluid that flowed from her. Hca had eased her mind by telling her that the pain only lasted a day or so with herself, dissipating to a dull discomfort rather than the aching cramps.

And now, Cinksi was doing as many young women did with their first bleeding. Attempting a vision.

I do not see how a vision can come to me, she mused with a frown.

Cinksi was on a small hillock that had a stand of trees on it. Beneath her was the summer camp, laid out in all its splendor. The pole in the center of the clearing was where the Sun Dance would be held in two days and the entire camp was buzzing with excited preparations. From here on the southern edge the girl could see her own camp's settlement.

According to tradition, a girl's first bleeding was put into the limbs of a tree and the girl was to sit at the base for the day. A vision was supposed to come to her if she should be worthy of it. But how can I be worthy of it? The hoksila have to sit for days to receive visions from the spirits. How can the spirits deem me worthy if I am not willing to sacrifice more to achieve a vision?

The doubts swirled around in her head as she sat and watched the camp's activities.

"Wicahcala?"

The shaman, Inyan Ceye, looked up from his work. He was sewing a small pouch made of fox fur. Before him stood the youngest daughter of Wanbli Zi. "Hau, Cinksi. Please, sit with me." He set aside his task and smiled warmly at the girl.

Gingerly, Cinksi sat to the left of the shaman and in the honored place. She frowned to herself as she considered what to say.

Inyan Ceye kept his counsel, knowing the girl needed to come to terms with whatever she wanted. He had seen her on the hill a few days earlier and had surmised why she was there. But she needs to ask for herself. She must be strong for herself.

The silence continued for some time. It seemed to grow more comfortable as the sun moved across the sky rather than distressful. Cinksi mulled over her reasons for approaching the shaman, finally speaking up. "Wicahcala, I would like to seek a vision."

The shaman nodded solemnly, his suspicions confirmed. "You did not receive one on the hill?" he asked.

Cinksi blushed and ducked her head. "Hiya, wicahcala. I did not." She appeared to almost speak, but held back.

"Tell me your thoughts, Cinksi," Inyan Ceye said. "I cannot help you if you do not."

Her face flushing further, the girl said, "I do not see why the spirits would give me a vision that way, wicahcala. I did not seek a vision as my father did or his father before him." She shrugged a little and stared at the firepit before them. "I know that I am not hoksila, but I feel the spirits would want me to seek a vision as the other hoksila have. If I am to be a warrior, that would be the only way the spirits will speak to me."

The shaman nodded with the same serious intensity. Again silence filled the immediate area as they both contemplated this turn of events. After some time, Inyan Ceye spoke up. "Then I must instruct you on seeking a vision, Cinksi, so that you might hear what the spirits have to say to you."

The girl looked up in surprise, a glow in her dark eyes. "You will help me, wicahcala?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"Hau, Cinksi. Now, go. I must prepare to teach you the way."

"Ohan, wicahcala!" The girl jumped up, failing in her attempt to temper her excitement. "Thank you!"

"Do not thank me, young warrior," Inyan Ceye intoned, though his dark eyes sparkled with humor. "It is you that must be clear and centered and able to receive a vision from wakan tanka." He shooed her away, happy to see the life return to her as she ran off. It had been disheartening to see her moping about the camp this last week.

The shaman inhaled deeply and looked down at the fur pouch he had been making. It is time to smoke a pipe and prepare the spirit banners. He set the project aside and rummage around for his pipe and tobacco.

Cinksi ducked out of the oinikaga tipi, her body slick from the sweat the heat inside caused. She was wearing only a breechclout and moccasins, as was prescribed by the elders of her camp. Outside the rounded lodge, she picked up a leather bag that she slung across her shoulders and a buffalo robe. These would be the only things she would take on her quest for a vision.

It was still dark out, the coolness in the air despite the season causing her to shiver. Cinksi pulled the robe tighter around her shoulders and moved into the darkness.

Time passed and soon the sun was high in the sky. The girl had removed the robe, not expecting to meet anyone out in the wilderness of the northern plains. Rolling hills rose around her and she considered which would be the proper place to make a stand for her vision. The warm breeze of summer caressed her back and she felt goose bumps arise at the oddity. She'd been forced to wear a shirt for the last two winters. It was good to be free of it as she'd been as a child.

Cinksi finally found a hillock that felt right and began to climb. Her stomach indicated that it was now nearing dinner as she reached its summit and looked around. This will do well, she thought with respect.

She removed the pouch and set it aside with the robe. As the shaman had instructed, she began clearing a patch of ground of all life. The area was longer than she was tall and as wide as her reach. When her chore was complete, she gathered the robe and pouch and stepped within.

Now, she could not leave until the spirits blessed her with a vision or until she gave up.

Cinksi began saying the prayers she had been taught by the elders as she opened the pouch. Carefully, she drew out four tiny bundles about the size of her thumb. Each was attached to the twig of the plum tree and had been made by the shaman for her quest. With further prayers, she stood the twig in the ground on the western side of the cleared area. And then the southern side, followed by the eastern and northern edges. These were the spirit banners and would help protect her from harm.

Next out of the pouch was a fur-wrapped pipe, a quantity of tobacco and a few other herbs. She gathered the herbs together into a small pile and also loaded the bowl of the pipe. The final thing from her pouch was a smoldering ember that had been kept safe in the hollow of an antler and fed bits and pieces of grass to continue burning. Cinksi lit the herbs, the sweet smell of sage and rosemary filling the air around her.

Using the ember to light the tobacco, she offered the pipe to the western sky. "Spirit of the West," she called, "I am Cinksi and I seek a vision." And she took a puff of the smoke, directing the excess cloud over her head, and waited.

Nothing happened.

Cinksi wasn't sure how long to wait. She'd been told by Inyan Ceye that she was to allow some time in between requests to give the spirits time to contact her. I cannot wait too long. My ember will burn out and I will not be able to complete the ritual. She debated this for some time.

Finally coming to a decision, she turned to the east and followed the same procedure, offering the pipe, calling out a request, smoking and waiting. This was followed by supplications to the Spirits of the North and South with the same results.

The girl sighed. Of course, it cannot be easy. The spirits need to see my resolve in this matter. She decided to take the next course of action.

"Spirit of the Sky, I am Cinksi and I seek a vision."

Nothing.

Frowning, Cinksi finished the ritual. She asked the Sun itself for a vision, its flaming soul beginning to dip behind the hills as the evening drew to a close. And then she asked the Earth itself for a vision, the final and most significant request. The girl finished just in time as the coal she was using finally burned out.

She crouched down in the clearing, face down on the ground. Cinksi wrapped her robe around her and concentrated on receiving a vision from the spirits.

It was the second night, moving into the third morning. About the only truly scary time had been the wolves howling nearby, but none had approached the girl on the hill.

Cinksi found it hard to continue focusing on her desire for a vision. Especially at first, when her every thought was on food and warmth. When she wasn't asleep, she was thinking of a vision, searching the area around her for a sign from the spirits. And none was forthcoming.

The girl was feeling a little dizzy from the lack of food and water. If she did not receive a vision soon, she would have to make the choice of dying here or giving up. It wasn't unusual for someone to return to camp after a vision quest without finding what they sought. But, Cinksi just couldn't believe that wakan tanka would set her on this path as a newborn and not speak to her.

Cinksi was currently facing the east. As the sun rose before her, it happened.

The Sun seemed to flare into a brilliant white light. The girl had to squint to peer at it, one hand raised to shade her eyes. As the light faded, she could see a cloud of dust rising and feel the ground beneath her shake at the stampeding of a thousand buffalo. They were running towards her position, led by the most sacred animal of all, the white buffalo.

Watching in dazed awe, Cinksi saw a warrior woman swoop in from the south, screaming her cry as she attacked the white buffalo with a spear. The warrior's hit was solid and the white buffalo was mortally wounded.

It seemed that the remainder of the herd simply disappeared, as did the warrior woman. The white buffalo staggered closer to Cinksi, blood pouring from its side and its nostrils flaring wide as it panted for breath. It fell just outside the cleared area and looked so real that the girl could almost touch it. The Sun flared again, and she lost the image, covering her eyes with her arm. The light faded and she looked again, only to find the white buffalo gone.

In its place was a strange woman with pale skin. Her hair was long, longer than Cinksi'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 Cinksi's women wore, buckskin and moccasins, her hair flowing freely in the breeze.

This strange apparition rose from where the white buffalo had been, 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 Cinksi'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."

And then the light returned to normal. Cinksi looked frantically around for the woman or the white buffalo and found nothing. With shaky fingers, she touched her face. Again there was nothing.

Trembling, the girl gathered her pouch and robe. She needed to return to the camp, to ask the shaman to help her interpret her vision.

Cinksi sat anxiously as she awaited the verdict of those wiser than herself. Around the fire were her father, the shaman, and the medicine man. They had heard her tale and were now smoking in silence as they considered it.

It felt odd, but the girl accepted the pipe that was handed to her and she smoked with the rest, finally an adult member of the society that she'd been on the outskirts of during her childhood. It warmed her, as did the look of pride she could see from her father.

"It is a complicated vision, Cinksi," Inyan Ceye commented once the smoking was done and the ashes given to the spirits. "I do not presume to know what the spirits wanted you to know from it."

"I understand, wicahcala."

The shaman nodded. "To see the white tatanka, to see yourself slay it.... I would think that this was your future."

Across from him, the medicine man nodded too "Hau, Cinksi. And so the rest of your vision must be your future, as well."

The girl frowned, her dark brows furrowed. "But, the pale woman? Is she my future? And why did she call me mahasanni ki?"

"It is hard to say. She is a stranger to us. She must be a stranger to our ways. But she is involved with the tatanka." Inyan Ceye stared into the flames of the fire. "And you will hurt her as you did the white tatanka."

For some inexplicable reason, Cinksi's heart twisted in sadness to hear that.

"You have had a very powerful vision, wikoskalaka," the shaman said. "I think it is time you took a new name." He appeared to be in thought before he smiled. "You will be known as Wi Ile Anpo, as was in your vision."

The girl's father and the medicine man nodded in agreement, their faces happy. "Thank you, wicahcala," Anpo, who used to be Cinksi, responded.

Chapter 2

Winyan Ki
(ween-yahn kee)

The Woman

1759

"Push, lass! Yer almost there!"

The 'lass' in question panted with exertion as another contraction hit her. With a growl that was more animal than human, she did as she was bade, almost sitting up in her attempt. She was supported from behind by her mother as the midwife encouraged her.

"Good, lass! I can see the head now." Ignoring the groan of frustration from the mother-to-be, the old midwife ran her hand along the distended belly. "I think the babe's about ready to have a look at the world."

"None too soon," the woman's mother spoke up, her voice reflecting her concern. She brushed her daughter's strawberry blonde hair out of the flushed face. "How are you, Rachel?"

The pregnant woman's face was a brilliant red and sweat poured off her body. "As well as can be expected, mum," she whispered breathlessly with an Irish lilt. "Though which of us is to be the more stubborn remains to be seen."

Kathleen O'Neill chuckled and wrung out a wet cloth to mop the heated forehead of her daughter. "Ye'll win out, eventually, love. Ye did with me." She brought the cool cloth to the woman's neck and cheeks. "I tried to keep ye the full nine months, but ye'd none of it."

Another contraction welled up and the woman groaned as she forced herself to apply more pressure. And suddenly she felt a loosening sensation within.

The midwife barely had time to capture the babe that abruptly chose to rush out of the womb. As she cut the umbilical cord and tied it off, the new mother slumped back into her own mother's embrace in exhaustion. The old woman smacked the newborn and the baby cried out at the indignity. She smiled and clucked at the baby, cleaning and wrapping it with a sense of a job well done.

Rachel McGlashan felt as if her entire body was made of pudding, all the energy spirited away. Without even realizing it, she dozed off through the cries of her firstborn child, not rousing until she felt the warm weight pressed onto her chest.

"Here, lass. Yer daughter needs ta be fed." The old midwife smiled. "And I need ye to push one final time fer me. Must get the afterbirth out."

The new mother found herself caught up in a wave of tender emotions as she guided the hungry, questing mouth to her breast. Almost in afterthought, she bore down one more time and a mess of placental membrane was ejected from her womb.

With evident experience, the midwife cleaned up the area, checking for any extensive bleeding carefully. Satisfied that all was well, she grinned up at Rachel. "I'll be going now, lass. Ye be gettin' some rest." She bustled towards the door, not expecting an answer. There rarely is after the first birth. With a happy grin, she let herself out of the room.

O'Neill eased out from behind her daughter, blue eyes sparkling with joy. "Congratulations, Rachel," she said softly, brushing aside the swaddling cloth to peek at her granddaughter. She was heartened to see reddish peach fuzz on the head. "It looks like she'll continue on the blonde legacy."

Rachel smiled lazily, a thumb running across the fuzz. "Thank ye, mum."

"Did ye and Jonathon come up with a name yet?"

The younger woman's smile broadened. "Aye. Mum, I'd like ye to meet Kathleen Sarah McGlashan." She chuckled at her mother's pleased surprise. "If 'twere a boy, we were plannin' on Stewart Franklin for Jon's da and mine."

"I'm honored, Rachel. Thank you." O'Neill turned as she heard the door opening. She stood back a bit as her son-in-law stepped anxiously into the room.

"Mrs. Perdy said it was all right..." the tall dark young man offered, uncomfortable with imposing.

Rachel smiled warmly and held out a free hand to her husband. "Jon! Come see yer daughter!"

McGlashan slowly approached the bed, his blue eyes shining almost in fear. His mother-in-law scooted a chair closer to the edge of the bed and gestured him to it. Grateful, he settled down on the edge.

O'Neill stepped away from the couple, remembering a time when she and her husband, Franklin, had done the same thing - doting on the newly arrived Rachel. The older woman stopped long enough to watch them for a few moments before sneaking out of the room.

Behind her, she could hear her son-in-law's awe filled voice. "She's beautiful, Rachel...!"

1765

"Kathleen Sarah McGlashan!"

The girl froze in mid step. When her mother used her full name, she knew she was in double trouble. 'Tisn't anything new, she thought ruefully as she turned back around and faced the wrathful parent. "Yes, mum?"

"If I've told ye once, I've told ye a thousand times, lass!" A toddler was gently pushed in the six year old's direction. "Take yer brother with ye! He wants to play as much as ye."

The little blonde girl sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging at the injustice of her life. "Aye, mum," she mumbled. Her body showed its reluctance as she reached out to take her younger brother's pudgy hand in her own. As Kathleen turned back towards the door, she tried her best not to take it out on him. 'Tis not his fault he's a slobbery little brat.

She failed to see the fond smile her mother gave them as they left.

Kathleen stepped out the door of the small hovel her family resided in and looked about. The sky was overcast and the fog was still trying to burn off from the morning. In the distance, she could see white spots dotting the hillside. Her grandfather was with the sheep this day, somewhere out there. Her father was off to the village to look for work.

As her mother whistled a tune while she cleaned up after their midday meal, the girl tugged Stewart around the side of the house. She deposited the three year old by the window next to a nice mudhole. Soon the two were happily creating pies in the gooey soil. Kathleen considered her lot in life as she molded the mud.

It had been harder since Gram O'Neill had passed away a few months ago. The old woman had been the light of the home, always cheerful, always finding the good in everything. Kathleen had spent more time with her grandmother than any other member of her family. Her lessons with the tin whistle had come to a halt now that her namesake had died. The girl sorely missed her presence, as did the rest of the household.

The sound of a door closing brought the girl back to the present. Da's home! Through the window, she could hear her parents speaking.

"Jon! Yer back early. Did ye find anything?" her mother asked.

The sound of wood scraping as a chair was pulled out. Kathleen could almost see her father settling in at the head of the table. "No. No work to be had here. I did find somethin' interesting, though."

Her mother's voice had moved away from the window. Probably sitting by da. She eyed her little brother who'd gotten tired of the mudpies and was now content to slap the puddle. Dirty water splashed up and he giggled. Kathleen rolled her blue eyes.

"What is it?"

"There's a ship goin' to the New World next week. We could become indentured and start afresh in another land." A silence followed.

Outside the window, the little girl frowned. What's it mean? 'Indentured'?

Her mother's voice sounded strained. "Jon...."

"Now, Rachel, hear me out, lass." There was a pause as McGlashan gathered his thoughts. "We've got nothin' here, Rach. Haven't for some time. We don't own the land, we don't own this shack. We're workin' our fingers to the bone for somebody else!"

"I know, love...."

"No! You don't! We could be doin' the same bloody thing in the Americas, paying off our transport and getting land of our own. We'd be beholdin' to none!" The man's voice became softer. "I've heard the tales, Rachel. 'Tis the land of milk and honey, love, with green acres for as far as the eye can see."

Kathleen could hear her mother's sigh through the window. Meanwhile, Stewart had discovered the joys of tossing his mudpies into the puddle. Mum's goin' ta kill me, she thought as she realized just how filthy the little boy was.

McGlashan continued, forcing the issue. "The reason we didn't do it before was yer mum. She didn't want to leave her home. Yer father has no such compunction. We've spoken of it before. He believes as I, that there's nothin' here for our family." A pause. "Besides, yer sister's there. Ye know ye miss her."

The little girl stood up and grabbed hold of her brother's hand, trying to get him to stand as well. Stewart was resistant, wanting to play in the water more than obey her. He whined a bit and strained with his other hand to reach another mudpie to toss on the puddle.

Inside the hovel, her father continued the discussion. "I want our children to live free, Rachel. I want our son to be a man of substance, our daughter to raise her family on her own land."

Stewart began crying as he was pulled unceremoniously away from his point of interest. "No! No! No!" he yelled at his sibling in frustration.

"What the...?"

And then Rachel was in the window, peering out at her children. At first her face was a mask of concern which was immediately followed by a furious look as she took in the state of their clothing.

"Kathleen Sarah McGlashan!"

The little blonde girl winced, releasing her brother's hand. Double trouble again, she thought as her brother happily made his way back to the puddle.

Well, one good thing. I don't have ta keep an eye on bratty Stewart today! Kathleen dodged a pair of legs and continued to traipse along behind her mum and da. She firmly held onto a canvas bag that thumped her shins as she walked. Around her was the smell of the sea and fish and unwashed bodies.

The brat in question was perched on her da's shoulders, his blue eyes wide as he surveyed the crowd of people on the docks. Kathleen wistfully glanced up at him, towering above her, and wished that it was she on her father's shoulders. But da says I'm gettin' too big, she mourned.

"Come along, Kath." Rachel reached down and took her daughter's hand. "We're almost to the ship."

Kathleen quickened her step to keep up, excitement building in her heart.

Both the little girl's parents carried a heavy satchel, as did her grandda behind them. Additionally, there was a pack on her father's back that Stewart was perched on. The bags held most of the small family's entire world - clothing, personal items and such to include food to be eaten once on board. There were two trunks that were already in the hold, having been delivered by McGlashan the night before.

I'm goin' to the Americas! Her da had regaled her with tales all week as they sorted through their belongings and prepared for the trip. "Land as far as the eye can see, Kath! All free for the taking for whoever can till the soil. Honey flowing in the rivers and milk from the trees." Kathleen wasn't too sure about this last bit of information. It sounded like poppycock to her but she hadn't denied him, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

And then there was a break in the crowd and she was able to finally see. Her family had stopped and set their bags on the ground of the dock. Her da was talking to a man checking a list of names. A wooden ramp led up towards a huge ship and Kathleen's eyes bugged out at the sheer size of it.

"Grandda! 'Tis huge!" she exclaimed, tugging on the older man's trousers.

Franklin O'Neill chuckled. "Aye, 'tisn't it?" He crouched down to look at the ship from his granddaughter's point of view. "And we'll be on her fer over a month, Kathleen."

Considering it had taken an hour to get to this spot, which was far, far away compared to what she usually travelled, the girl was impressed. "A whole month!? The Americas are so far away then?"

"Aye, they are," her mother interjected. Blue eyes that matched the girl's clouded in sadness. "A long way from here."

Sadness for her mother welled up in Kathleen's heart. She flung her arms around her mum's waist and hugged her fiercely. "I'll miss home, too," she said. "But da says there's milk and honey for the takin'."

Rachel smiled at her daughter's attempts to cheer her up. She held her close in a warm embrace. "I know, love. And we'll all get fat and sassy in our new home."

"'Ere! 'oo's next!?" the porter called out.

"Come along, Rach," McGlashan called. "Da, let's go!" He herded his small family towards the ship and their future.

The first night was the best. Once all the passengers had been loaded on, their belongings settled and bedding assigned, the ship left port and headed for open sea. For the rest of the afternoon, the inhabitants became acquainted, fixed their meals and cozied up their tiny portions of the vast hold they had been put in.

Eventually, as the night came on, a few men found common ground. First one pulled out a fiddle. Then another pulled a tin whistle from his baggage. Followed by a third and fourth with a dulcimer and drum respectively. In no time, a lively tune was filling the air and several people had begun to dance.

"Look, da! He's got a tin whistle!" Kathleen announced, her eyes bright with excitement. "D'ye think I can get lessons from him?" She knew that her Gram's whistle was in her bag, one of the few keepsakes she had to remember the old woman by.

McGlashan pursed his lips in thought. "I b'lieve so, Kath. Let me speak to him and see if we can come to an agreement."

The little girl's smile widened and she looked up to her father with adoration. "Oh, da! 'Twould be grand if ye did!" And then she giggled as he swept her up into his arms and began to dance around.

And so, Kathleen Sarah McGlashan spent the remainder of the trip to the Americas in sheer bliss. When she wasn't required to take care of bratty Stewart, she spent all her time with Mr. Gallagher from Dublin who continued her lessons on the tin whistle.

1773

"Kathleen! Where's yer brother?"

The blonde sighed deeply and rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "I dunno, mum!" she called back over her shoulder. "'Twas supposed ta be cuttin' wood for da!" She returned her attention to the peas she was snapping into a bowl for their evening meal. Under her breath, she mumbled, "I don't understand why I'm ta know what he does every wakin' moment."

"Because yer the eldest and the one with the responsibility," her mother reminded, a faint smile on her face. She ignored her daughter's blush, patting her gently on the back as she reached for the bowl of peas. "I'll finish these. Ye go find Stewart and tell him his da wants help with the tilling."

"Aye, mum" Kathleen muttered. She rose from the stump she was using for a chair and stomped off to locate her errant sibling.

The prior year the McGlashans finally paid off their debt and had joined a group of like minded individuals heading west. They'd only just finished work on their new home, a single story cabin with three rooms, and had begun working the land in earnest. Things had been hard this first year, but it had looked up through the summer - the soil was fertile, the land was green and growing, and a natural spring ran near enough that a well wasn't necessary. Their nearest neighbor was the widower Adam Stevens three miles to the north. A bit further away were four or five other homesteads and the closest sign of civilization over six days travel to the east.

The disgruntled teenager made her way around the side of the cabin. Her brother was nowhere near the woodpile, the ax imbedded in an old stump. "That brat!" She stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the wilderness around their home.

A large stand of maple was near, on the northeastern side of the cabin. Kathleen could make out the sight of her father in the field to the west of the homestead, urging their cantankerous mule to pull the plowshare. Her grandfather was in front of the mule, tugging on the bridle and not doing much good.

Grandda's gettin' old, she mused with a tinge of sadness. He'll join Gram soon. She heaved another sigh. Back to the task at hand. "Stewart!" she called.

From a distance, she heard his voice. "What?"

Turning towards the small barn, she marched towards it. The door was standing wide and she stepped in, stopping to allow her eyes to adjust to the dimmer lighting. "Stewart?"

"Aye, Kath, I'm right here."

Kathleen could make out a smaller form over by a stall. "Da's lookin' fer ye, Stewart. Wants ye to help with the plowin'." She moved closer to her little brother. "What're ye doin' in here, anyway?"

The eleven year old was hanging on the partition and grinned over his shoulder. "Watchin' Caleb." He waved a hand at the animal in the stall.

The teenager leaned against the railing as well, peering in at the new addition to their farm. Their milk cow had given birth that spring to a calf. It had immediately captured the younger McGlashan's fancy and he spent near as much time with the animal as he did with his family.

"He's growin' like a weed," Kathleen observed.

Stewart's grin widened. "Aye, he is," he answered proudly, as if he'd something to do with the natural growth spurt of a young bull.

Kathleen shook her head in exasperation. "Ye better get out ta the field. Da's lookin' fer ye."

The boy sighed and brushed his unruly blond hair from his eyes. "Guess yer right, sis." He waved at the calf. "See ye tonight, Caleb," he offered before pushing away from the partition and heading for the door.

From outside, their mother's voice could be heard. "Kathleen!"

"Ah, I'm in trouble again," the girl grumbled. Her eyes flashed angrily at her brother's laugh.

Stewart patted her gently on the arm. "When aren't ye in trouble, lass?" he asked. "Ye've been on the wrong side of mum's temper so long, I don't think ye'd know what 'twas like ta not be." And then he scampered off before she could smack him.

Growling, Kathleen watched him go and wondered why what he said was so true.

"Kathleen Sarah McGlashan!"

"Aye, mum! I'm comin'!" She lifted the hem of her dress and jogged back around the house.

"I don't understand why I have to get all cleaned up, mum!" Kathleen complained from the wooden tub she currently occupied.

Rachel bustled about the main room of their home, putting the final touches on the cookies before popping them into the small dutch oven in the fireplace. "I've told ye, lass. We're havin' comp'ny fer supper."

The blonde frowned. "Does Stewart have to clean up, too?"

"Aye. He'll have ta clean up some as well," was the vague reply.

Somethin's not right here, Kathleen mused. Who could be comin'? The only neighbor near is the widower Stevens. And I never did this the last time he came ta eat here. The teenager worried the problem as she finished her bath.

"Here, love, let me help ye wash yer hair," Rachel interrupted her daughter's thoughts.

Now I know somethin's fishy! Mum hasn't helped with my hair in... well, in ferever!

"I've always loved yer hair, lass," Rachel murmured once she'd begun lathering the blonde tresses with soap. "It's so much thicker than my own."

Uncertain, Kathleen murmured, "Thank ye, mum."

"Ye've grown to be such a beautiful young woman, too. Every day ye look more and more like my ma." There was a comfortable silence. "Do ye remember yer Gram?"

"Aye, mum. She had white hair and taught me to play the tin whistle."

Rachel smiled at the memory. "Good. I'm glad ye do. She was a wonderful lady."

Despite herself, Kathleen closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, the strong fingers massaging her scalp feeling so nice. "What's really going on, mum?"

The older woman debated with herself for a moment. "Widower Stevens is comin' ta dinner."

"But why'm I gettin' all cleaned up then?"

"Kathleen," her mother started, "he's a lonely man. His wife passed away two years ago and he's out there on that farm by himself with no sons to help out."

The teenager's brow furrowed as she considered this statement. For some reason, she wasn't understanding what her mum was trying to tell her.

When there was no response, Rachel continued. "And yer not goin' ta find many other choices out here in the wilderness for a husband, Kathleen."

Blue eyes flew open as the full weight of her mother's comment hit her. Marry him! She wants me ta marry him! "But.... But, mum," she sputtered, pulling away and turning to peer in horror over her shoulder. "He's an old man!"

Rachel's mouth pinched together in irritation. "He's not that old, lass. He's only twenty-eight." To forestall further comment from her eldest child, she held up her soapy hands in warning. "And a good provider. Why, he's got a good ten acres of land in seed now, and it's growin' every year!"

"I don't care how much land he has!" the teenager yelled. "I'll not marry him!"

The older woman sighed explosively and rose to her feet. She picked up a nearby towel and wiped off her hands, speaking all the while. "It's not like we're tryin' to marry ye off today, Kathleen! We're only invitin' him to break bread with us, give the two of ye a chance to get to know one another. Yer too young to be married yet."

The blonde brushed soapy bangs from her eyes. "I am?"

"Aye, lass. Do ye think we're that barbaric? To wed our oldest child to a stranger at fourteen?" Rachel sighed again and shook her head sadly. "It's just that there's not many options fer a pretty young lass out here. We can only do the best we can."

"Aye, mum." Kathleen ducked her head in shame.

"Promise me ye'll give him a chance, Kathleen." When her daughter raised her eyes to look back, Rachel returned to kneel by the tub. "Promise me. It's not Widower Stevens' fault, either. Don't be takin' things out on him."

The slumped shoulders were far more eloquent than the words murmured from the teenager's mouth. "Aye, mum. I promise."

"Good!" Rachel rose to her feet, a smile on her face. "Now, rinse yer hair, love, and I'll help ye dry off and get dressed." She moved away to check on the cookies, humming under her breath.

The teenager heaved a heavy sigh and did as she was bade.

Dinner had been a strained affair from Kathleen's point of view.

Her mother had dressed her in her finest and helped put her hair up. All the while, she was regaled with hints of how to carry herself in the presence of their dinner guest. When the men came back from the field, the responses were mixed. McGlashan and O'Neill were properly awed at the beautiful young woman blushing by the fireplace.

But when Stewart giggled at her, Kathleen lost her decorum and chased after him as he bolted out the door. Despite the stern commands from their da to return, she caught the little brat and knuckled his head for his disrespect.

Widower Stevens arrived on a horse at the required time, a tall, thin man dressed in dark clothing. The men immediately gathered together and began discussing the weather, the crops, and the animals. Stewart kept himself underfoot, trying to entice the visitor to the barn to see Caleb.

Kathleen watched surreptitiously from a window. He's not a bad looking man, she finally allowed. If we 'twere to be married, our children would be blond. And he appears to be gentle and kind. The teenager sighed and turned away, catching her mother watching her, a smile on her face. With a grimace, she returned to stirring the pot of stew.

Everyone sat at the table for the evening meal, though the women stayed more on their feet while they served the men and boy. Conversation ranged through various topics from the standard day-to-day existence to the rumblings from the colonies to the east.

"Ye know, there's talk of revolution in the colonies," Stevens commented. He smiled up at his neighbor's daughter who refilled his cup of water. "We get news so late here, though, I doubt we'd hear of anything 'til years after the fact."

"Aye," McGlashan nodded. He pushed back from the table. "Stewart, get my pipe. There's a good lad." As the man opened the tobacco pouch and began packing the bowl, he continued. "I'd heard that a British ship ran aground last year at Rhode Island. 'Tweren't long before the colonists themselves burnt it out."

"Things are gettin' volatile, and that's fer certain," Stevens said. "Out here, though.... Not much call to get involved. Don't reckon that the British will get this far into the wilds."

"Probably not," McGlashan agreed.

"But, da," the boy piped up. "Didn't the British get this far up north? They were fightin' with the French up by the lakes."

Their guest nodded. "True, lad. But, now they've got all the land b'tween here and there full of colonists who aren't happy with the way things're goin'. At least up north they had the support of the colonies."

The talk continued on as the women gathered up the remains of the meal. The men eventually wandered outside into the night to smoke and chat some more of politics and the like. Rachel used the time wisely to speak with her daughter.

"See, Kathleen? That wasn't so bad now, was it?" She scraped the remains of the meal onto a single plate.

Reluctantly, the teenager nodded. "Aye. 'Twas all right."

"And ye see what I meant? Ye could do worse out here for a future husband, ye know."

"I know, mum. I know."

1775

"Dinner was wonderful this evening, Kathleen."

"Thank ye, Mr. Stevens. I'm happy ye enjoyed it."

The pair were seated on the newly added front porch of the McGlashan homestead, enjoying the evening. Inside the cabin could be heard the sounds of the teenager's family cleaning up from the meal, settling in for an evening before the fire. Tonight, Rachel had made sure that their visitor was aware of her daughter's contribution to the meal.

Stevens' weekly visits were a regular occurrence, as were the after dinner discussions between the couple. More and more as time progressed, they were gently pushed together by Kathleen's parents. Neither of them were ignorant of the reasons.

The man inhaled deeply of the night air and looked at his companion. She's a beautiful lass. Young and healthy. And her parent's are willin'. Coming to a decision, he leaned forward in his chair and took the teenager's hand.

Kathleen eyed him carefully. There'd been many a time that they'd held hands, but his blue eyes seemed more... intense than usual.

"Kathleen," he began, "I would like to ask yer father fer yer hand in marriage." When there was no immediate response, Stevens continued. "It seems the right thing to do. Neither of us have many other options out here. And I'm not gettin' any younger. I can't promise you that it'll be an easy life, but it can be a rewardin' one."

The blonde swallowed, her heart in her throat. Well, it's finally come. She dropped her gaze to her lap, her brow furrowed in thought.

Stevens squeezed her hand tenderly. "I'll not expect an answer this trip, Kathleen. I know it's an important decision fer ye. I don't want ye to feel pressured inta somethin' ye don't want."

"Thank ye, Mr. Stevens," the teenager murmured in a low voice.

Releasing her hand, he brought his fingers up to her chin and raised her head to look at him. He'd never touched her in this manner before and her blue eyes were wide as she peered into his own.

"Please, Kathleen. My name is Adam."

There was a long pause. Slowly, the girl nodded. "Aye, then. Adam."

Stevens' smile widened and he rose to his feet. "'Tis time fer me ta be headin' home. Ye'll confer my thanks ta yer family?" He settled his wide brimmed hat on his head.

"Certainly... Adam," Kathleen responded, blushing at the use of his first name. She stood as well, and stepped off the porch with him towards his horse. Once there, she was astonished to find him kissing the back of her knuckles.

"'Til next week then, my Kathleen." And then he was on his horse. With a tip of his hat, he grinned at her before wheeling the horse around and trotting away.

Kathleen crossed her arms in front of her and watched him go.

It had been a long week of soul searching for the teenager. She tossed out feed for the chickens with only half a mind. The voices of others filled her head with praise, making it hard to think, to decide.

Her mum. "He'd be a wonderful husband, Kathleen. A good provider and father."

Her da. "Ye know, Rach, that Stevens is a right smart feller. He's figured a way of rotatin' the crops that puts out a higher yield all 'round!"

Even bratty Stewart. "Da! Mr. Stevens wants to use Caleb as a stud fer his cows! Says he's the biggest bull this side of the big lakes!"

"I wish ye'd all just shut up!" she mumbled in exasperation.

"I've not said anythin'," was the argued response.

Kathleen turned to see her little brother watching her curiously. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I was talkin' ta myself, Stew." She returned to her chore, clucking at the hens and hoping her sibling would drop it and leave.

But such was not the case. The youth set the empty pails down and moved to sit on a nearby stump. "What's up, Kath? Ye've been actin' daft all week."

"It's none of yer concern."

Stewart shook his head. "Yer my sister, Kath. 'Tis my concern. Ye've been this way since Mr. Stevens' last visit." He brushed the hair from his eyes as he studied her. "Did he hurt you somehow? Take advantage?"

The older sibling heard the muted anger in his voice and stopped to stare at him in surprise. What's this? "No," she said. "No, he didn't." The look of caring on Stewart's face was so alien to her, she began wondering if he'd become a changeling. Unable to help herself, Kathleen asked, "And what if he did, Stew?"

The blond brow, so like hers, furrowed. "Then I'd have ta get da's musket and set Mr. Stevens straight." He sat up a little straighter and puffed out his chest in manly resolve.

Kathleen tilted her head as she studied this strange youth. She stopped feeding the chickens entirely and stepped closer. "Why?" she whispered, trying to comprehend.

"Why?" Stewart asked, confused. "Because yer my sis, that's why! He might be the only man out here fer miles, but that doesn't mean he can have sport with ye." He shrugged. "I mean, I like him and all, but I'd still defend yer honor."

A small smile crossed the girl's face. "Even if he'd make me a good husband? A wonderful provider and father?"

"Aye. Even then. If ye'd none of him, than none of him ye'll have, if I have any say over it." Stewart scooted to one side, his sister sitting on the stump beside him.

"But, he's smart and friendly and kind and generous," Kathleen added, bringing up all the things she'd been told by their parents.

"And so's Caleb," the youth responded sarcastically. "But that's neither here nor there." He peered closely at his sister, placing a hand on her knee. "What's wrong, Kath?"

Kathleen debated with herself, chewing on her lip and staring at the chickens scratching at the ground without seeing them. "Mr. Stevens... Adam has asked me ta marry him."

Blue eyes blinked at her. "Have ye made a decision?"

Shaking her head, she said, "No. I haven't. But he'll be expectin' an answer tonight after dinner."

"Well, da always says two heads are better 'n one. Maybe I can help ye?"

The blonde snorted a bit. "I don't think so, Stew. 'Tis not like I'm tryin' to find different solutions to a problem. A simple yes or no will do him fine."

"Aye, Kath, but yer obviously unsure. Maybe talkin' it over with me'll help set things straight in yer mind." He looked at her with an open face, nodding gently.

P'rhaps he's right. What can it hurt? Ye need to give Mr. Ste... Adam an answer. She finally nodded and her sibling sighed in relief. "All right then. What do ye wanna know?"

Stewart pursed his lips in thought and scratched idly at his neck. "Do ye love him?"

Another snort and Kathleen shook her head. "I don't know, Stew. I don't think so. I like him well enough and all, but I don't think I love him."

"Well, then. Does he love ye?"

The blonde's wry grin quirked her lips. "I'm sure enough of that to say no. Adam feels the same way I do, I b'lieve."

Stewart frowned. "Maybe we're goin' 'bout this the wrong way." He picked up a twig from the ground and began peeling the bark from it. "Kath, what do ye want ta do with yer life?"

"I've never given it much thought," the elder sibling said with a shrug. "I've always known I'd find a man, get married, have babies. I've always wanted ta have lots of babies." Her blue eyes grew distant, searching her memories and dreams. "'Tis funny, ye know? I can remember dreaming of havin' lots of children and raisin' them up in my own home. But, fer the life of me, I can't remember of ever thinkin' of a husband ta share my life with."

"Well, ye can't have one without t'other," Stewart smirked.

"Hush!" the blonde said with a smile, bumping her shoulder against his.

"So, ye like him. And he likes ye. But havin' a husband 'tisn't all that important ta ye," the youth summed up.

"Aye, that about covers it."

Stewart nodded in contemplation. "Then I'd say yer best option would be ta marry him. At least there's a basis for friendship - 'tisn't like ye hate each other. And then ye can have all those babies ye've wanted."

"'Tis true," the girl agreed, though deep in her heart she felt the wrongness of the decision. But, logically speakin' 'tis the truth all 'round. Somehow Kathleen knew, however, that this was not the path her life would take. She could feel it to her bones. And until my life goes another way? Sit here at my parents' home? Become an old maid?

Kathleen turned to look at her little brother. She covered her face with a smile and patted his hand. "Thank ye, Stewart. Ye've been a big help this day."

"Ye can always talk ta me, Kath," he promised. "We've had our differences in the past, but I've grown up some. Things are different from when we were children."

The fact that he was still a child caused a glimmer of laughter inside and Kathleen stifled it admirably. "Aye, Stew. Yer right. Things are different." She rose to her feet and scooped up the pail of chicken feed. "Ye'd best be fer gettin' the water fer mum. She'll not wait much longer."

Seeing that the conversation was over, the boy stood and did as he was bade. "That's the fair truth of it," he mumbled. He trudged away towards the creek, empty pails barking his shins.

Kathleen watched him go, her heart filled with love for the brat.

The wedding was the perfect excuse for a party. While McGlashan continued working the crops, Stewart was allowed to take their mule around the outlying area and issue invites to the other homesteads. It took him nearly three nights on the road and he returned happy with several responses to attend.

After the youth's return, Stevens rode off to the nearest township to make arrangements with the magistrate who would be officiating over the wedding. The journey was six days in either direction, so the McGlashan clan proceeded to juggle the working of both their own land and their neighbor-cum-son-in-law's.

And in Kathleen's home, preparations began in earnest.

"Oh, mum!" the teenager sighed in exasperation. "I've tried this dress on a hundred times now!" She stood on a stool near the fireplace as her mother fussed around the hem of a green gingham outfit.

Rachel tugged on the hem to readjust the waistline, studying her daughter's clothing with a practiced eye. "Aye, and ye'll be tryin' it on a hundred more 'til we get it right," she insisted, mumbling through the pins in her mouth. "Now, stand still, lass! Or ye'll be lopsided at your wedding!"

Glowering at the ceiling, Kathleen mumbled, "Aye, mum."

The older woman continued to pin up the hem of the dress, humming away. When she was finished, she stepped back to observe her handiwork before finally giving the girl permission to step down and helped her out of it. "I've heard from the Heinrich's that they'll be here with bells on the day b'fore," she gossipped, gathering the gingham in hand and rustling over to her chair by the fireplace.

Kathleen pulled another dress over her shift. "Why the day b'fore?"

"Ta help with the preparations. Mrs. Heinrich makes a fine potato cake, if ye recall." Rachel settled down, the dress in her lap, and strung a needle with thread. "She and her children will come and Mr. Heinrich'll stay b'hind until the next day." Adjusting the cloth, she stopped to wipe a strand of greying blonde hair from her eyes. "I think we'll set them up in the barn. I'll have Stewart muck it out the day b'fore."

The teenager finished dressing and moved to the table where the fixings for an apple pie were set out. As she began paring the apples, she asked, "How many will be attending?"

Rachel rocked gently in her chair. "Oh, looks ta be 'bout a dozen, no more. The Heinrichs, that new couple down south of here, and the Anders. 'Twill be an excitin' day fer ye, Kathleen! Ye'll look so pretty in yer wedding dress." She beamed over at her daughter.

"Aye," the blonde girl responded dutifully, not feeling all that excited at the prospect of becoming Mrs. Adam Stevens. More like.... dread. She continued peeling the apples, her mother's humming not soothing as it once had been.

By all the regular ways of reckoning, the wedding was a grand success. The homestead was packed to the rafters with well-wishers. Women and girls clustered around inside the cabin, fixing their best dishes for the festivities. The men and boys milled about outside, smoking pipes, looking over McGlashan's farmstead and with Stewart constantly pressuring people to come look at Caleb the bull in the south field.

At a little past midday, Stevens arrived with the magistrate in tow. While the pompous little official puffed about the small clearing designated as the wedding site, the men drug the groom off to the stables. Once there, he was given a shot of homemade liquor that made his pale eyes water and was gussied up for the ceremony. Meanwhile, the women fawned over the bride, pinching her cheeks, helping her into her dress, discussing the attributes of the new husband-to-be and generally making Kathleen all the more nervous for their efforts.

And then it was time. Stewart, dressed in his finest, burst into the cabin. "Are ye ready then?" he asked, raising his voice to get over the clamor of the women.

"Yes!" Rachel called from behind the crowd.

The women separated from behind, finally opening to reveal Kathleen. The green gingham dress was long and full, a high waist accentuating the bosom. Long sleeves puffed out on the upper arms, closing in to fit tightly around the forearms and wrists. Handmade lace had been attached to the cuffs and low collar and additional material had been used as a belt, a bow tied in the back. Her blonde hair had been put high on her head, with ringlets and spit curls spilling down here and there.

"Kath! Ye look...." Stewart blinked. "Ye look incredible, lass."

Kathleen blushed a little, not used to compliments from her bratty sibling. "Aye. Thank ye, Stew."

The youth stepped forward, his eyes still shining with some unknown emotion. "If ye weren't my sis, I'd marry ye myself."

The teenager drew herself up at the giggles from the women around her. She glared down at her brother in sisterly exasperation. "Like I'd have ye, ye brat."

"Kathleen Sarah McGlashan!" her mother said into the shocked room.

Stewart blinked again, coming to his senses. And then a grin split his face and he punched Kathleen on the upper arm. "Aye. I'm a brat. But it beats bein' a lily livered canary whistlin' on the pipes all day."

Rachel sounded even more distressed as she gasped, "Stewart Franklin!"

The siblings ignored her and swept each other up into an embrace.

"Ye look fantastic, Kath," the youth whispered.

"Thank ye, Stew," she whispered back.

Outside, the sounds of Mr. Heinrich's accordion filtered through the still open door.

"There 'tis then," a woman nearby piped up. "Time to get a move on, younglings."

Kathleen released her brother and gulped down the sudden overwhelming fear that threatened to crowd out all thought. Stewart pecked her once on the cheek and ran back out the door, preparing to take his place as Stevens' best man. The women around her filtered out to take their places with their husbands and parents with the exception of Mrs. Anders and her young daughter. These were to be Kathleen's matron of honor and flower girl.

Rachel gave her daughter a quick, reassuring hug and a kiss. "Ye'll do fine, lass," she whispered. "Ye look so beautiful!" Blue eyes already glistening with unshed tears, she hugged the teenager fiercely to herself once more. And then she was out the door to take her place with the rest of the wedding party.

Mrs. Anders looked to the young bride. "Kathleen...?"

The teenager fought down her rising bile and forced a smile to her face. "Time to get married."

The ceremony went off without a hitch, her mother and half the other women crying in response. The groom looked resplendent in his best suit, his brown hair pulled back and tied with a bow and the buckles on his Sunday shoes shining brilliantly. When he'd seen his bride for the first time in her splendor, his eyes glinted with unshed tears of happiness.

After the wedding, everyone gathered for a feast and fest. The clearing in front of the cabin was utilized as a dance floor as McGlashan and the Heinrich's boy pulled out fiddles and were joined by Mr. Heinrich's accordian. While there were more women than men at the function, that didn't stop anyone from merrily dancing away. Having little experience with dancing, Kathleen felt a bit odd. Whenever she and her brother danced, she usually led. It was difficult to give way to her new husband.

As the afternoon got on, gifts were unwrapped - a quilt from her mother, a matching set of braided leather bracelets from her brother, an ivory pipe that had belonged to her grandfather and was given to Stevens. The guests had also brought various and sundry gifts to help the new couple start their home, despite the fact Stevens' home was already well stocked after years of use.

Afterwards, the newlyweds said their farewells. The guests loaded their gifts and Kathleen's personal belongings onto a cart and Stevens helped his young wife up. As they drove away, the sounds of the merriment continuing behind them, Kathleen realized she'd never even seen her husband's home before. Nothin' like divin' in with both feet, eh?

Three miles passed and the sky was beginning to darken. The cart arrived at a tidy little homestead. Stevens began speaking of where the well was located, where the fields were, what he hoped to plant next spring. Kathleen listened with half an ear, peering at the small cabin as he pulled up in front.

"Here, Kathleen," Stevens said, wrapping the reins around the brake and hopping down. "Let me help ye inta the house. I'll unload the goods onta the porch and put up the cart after." He came around and reached up to her.

Swallowing, a flutter of nerves whirling through her stomach for a moment, the teenager rose and let her husband sweep her down to the ground. He placed her arm through his crooked elbow and guided her up the steps.

"'Tis just a small home, sweetling. But, 'twill easily be added on when the babes come." Stevens pushed the door open and paused, peering down at her with a soft smile. For the second time, the first being the wedding ceremony, he kissed his bride gently. "Welcome home, Kathleen."

"Thank ye, Adam," the teenager murmured, casting her eyes down and blushing. And then she clutched at him and let out a tiny shriek as he scooped her up into strong arms.

"I've got ta carry ye over the threshold, sweetling," he laughed, doing just that. Once inside, he set her down, holding her up as she gained her balance once again. "Here. Let me light a lantern fer ye."

The dark interior brightened as the lamp was lit. Stevens settled the glass over the flame and stepped back, surveying his home. With a rueful grin, he glanced at her. "'Tisn't much at the moment, sweetling. This ol' place hasn't seen a woman's touch in far too long."

Despite her nerves, Kathleen curiously glanced around the single room. A fireplace was on the opposite wall, cold and dark. To her left were a row of cupboards from wall to wall standing waist high. The resulting counterspace was covered with a fine layer of dust, a small collection of books and the usual clutter of a home. In the far right corner was a large wooden framed bed, neatly made up. The teenager swallowed anxiously and avoided looking at it.

Stevens stepped forward and gave his wife a quick peck on the forehead. "I'll be back soon, sweetling." And then he strode out of the room.

The sounds of items being set onto the wooden porch filtered through and the teenager continued her perusal. She removed her shawl and noticed pegs hanging from the wall beside the door. Hanging it there, she settled her hands on her hips.

The table wasn't filthy... exactly. She considered the state of her brother's belongings and snorted. Aye, Adam's a bit neater and that's a fact. There were two benches on either side of the table and a chair at one end. The lantern glowed from the center, illuminating the small cabin.

Kathleen moved around the room, clucking at the film of grime that seemed to invade every nook and cranny. The mantel above the fireplace held a small silver frame. It was the only thing that wasn't layered with dust. She picked it up to peer at it closely. The picture inside was a tiny painting of a woman with dark hair and somber grey eyes.

"My first wife, Amanda," Stevens said softly.

Startled, the blonde jumped and nearly dropped the artwork. Her husband reached around her and smoothly caught it before it could fall to the floor. With a blush, she turned and began apologizing. "I'm sorry, Adam."

"Don't be, love," the man said. His blue eyes held a measure of tender sadness. He settled the frame back on the mantel. Almost absently, his other arm wrapped around her and he held her close. "What's past is past and I'll not discuss it this night." Stevens grinned down at her. "'Tis our wedding night." And he ducked down for a kiss.

The butterflies in her stomach raged as they fluttered about.

When all was said and done, it wasn't near as bad as she'd been making it out to be. But, as Kathleen lay on her side, staring at the wall of the tiny cabin, she cried in silence. She missed her mum and da and even bratty Stewart. She missed her home.

Behind her, sprawled on his back, Stevens slept. He snored gently, blissfully ignorant of his new young wife's distress.

It had hurt, at first. Her mother had told her it would. And Kathleen knew she'd be sore for the next day. Yet, it had become an interesting sensation. But, did it have ta take so long? she wondered, wiping tears away. She wondered how often she would have to submit to her husband, how often he'd want her in that way. 'Twill be worth it in time. We'll have lots of wee babes roamin' 'round.

Kathleen thought of her own bed in her parents' cabin, thought of hearing her brother as he talked in his sleep, thought of waking up to hear her mother preparing breakfast and her da groaning about getting old before his time. Another spate of tears reached her and she clutched the quilt her mum had made to her chest.

1777

Kathleen tightly twisted the cloth in her hands, holding it over the tub of water. When she'd satisfactorially removed most of the excess, she tossed the damp item into a nearby basket. It was a beautiful spring afternoon. Birds were chittering to each other in the stand of pine trees nearby, the only sound that could easily be heard. If the young woman concentrated, she could hear her husband in the fields behind the cabin, cussing at the horse he worked.

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, Anpo."

Smiling and shaking her head, the teenager said, "I doubt I would get from here to the ponies without you on my heels." Despite pride at being asked and joy that her friend would want to accompany her, a silvery-cold trickle of fear lodged in her heart. I will see my future.

Taking her response as an affirmative, Wanbli Zi smiled happily and ushered the two warriors into the council lodge to speak with the elders.

In the early morning darkness, Anpo dressed in her finest. It was said that how a warrior looked was an indication of how much he was loved. And, despite the one obvious difference between herself and the other warriors in camp, her sister and mother had outfitted her well over the years.

The tops of her moccasins were white and painstaking detail had been paid to the red sun symbols painted on them. Her buckskin leggings were their natural tan color with the exception of the fringe on the outer legs. Again, these were painted white with designs in red and yellow - the lightning, the sun and the buffalo alternated down each side. Her leather shirt was yellow and the same white strip of designs ran down the front from each shoulder to the hem. On her upper arms were strips of leather, painted yellow and contrasting with her dark skin.

Waniyetu Gi peered at her closely as her eldest daughter combed Anpo's hair until it glowed. Clucking disapprovingly, she said, "Your breechclout is old. I have another for you." And she moved to one side of the ti ikceya and rummaged among some leathers and furs.

Finished working on her sister's hair, Hca Wanahca pulled the sides back to tie up and out of her face. She then affixed a small eagle quill hanging down and a larger quill painted yellow sticking up.

Anpo watched her mother return with an expanse of white leather.

"This was to be yours after you killed the tatanka ska but I will give it to you now," Waniyetu Gi said with a smile. She gently laid the skin in her daughter's hands.

The teenager looked at it in awe. She has such faith in me! "Thank you, ina! It is perfect!" She stood and immediately pulled off the current buckskin she was wearing, replacing it with practiced hands as her family prudently looked away.

"You look very handsome," Hca commented with a smile as she rose to her feet, her sister turned around like a proud male pheasant.

"And I have you to thank for it, cuwekala," Anpo grinned back. She embraced her sibling and then turned to their mother. "And you, ina."

Waniyetu Gi smiled and accepted the hug from her taller and stronger child. And then she pulled away, pushing Anpo towards the tiopa. "Now, go. Nupa is waiting."

The teenager ducked her head and kissed her mother on the cheek before scooping up her weapons and leaving the lodge. She could hear the older woman grumbling good-naturedly as she stepped out into the cool morning air.

Four men stood nearby with the ponies - her father, Nupa Olowan and his father, Wi Sape, and the shaman. She approached, adjusting her pouch and knife.

Inyan Ceye stepped forward with a bundle of fur. "Here is the invitation for the chief of their camp. You will enter and speak to no one until you are spoken to at their council fire. Go right to their council and nowhere else. Give the chief our invitation and wait there until tomorrow. He will give you his answer for you to return here in the morning." He handed the bundle to Nupa who obediently tied it to his saddle.

"Ready?" Nupa asked with a grin, handing her pony's reins to Anpo.

"Ohan!"

Wanbli Zi smiled at his daughter's enthusiasm. "Remember. Leave camp and go south for a time. You will come across a large pine tree, split in two. From there, go west. The camp's cookfires will guide you the rest of the way. You should be there when the sun is high."

The young warriors nodded in understanding and hopped onto their steeds. There was a final word of good bye before they heeled their ponies and fairly flew out the eastern entrance. The elders watched them go before quietly returning to their lodges.

Once out of sight of camp, the two slowed their ponies to a trot, pacing them. Anpo handed her friend a piece of dried meat that her mother had packed them.

"You look nice," Nupa commented. "Is that breechclout new?"

The teenager nodded. "Ina gave it to me. She was going to wait until I killed the tatanka ska, but chose to gift it this morning."

The young man nodded. "It is an unusual color. It suits you."

"Hca called me 'handsome'," Anpo said with a wry snort.

Not seeing the humor, her friend looked at her with new eyes. With a slow, grudging respect, he nodded. "You are handsome, tanksi." He paused in thought, his dark brow furrowed.

They cantered along a few feet before the teenager finally asked, "What?"

Nupa shrugged. "It is just.... My next words would have been 'You will make some woman a fine man'." He shook his head. "But, you are not a man. You are a wikoskalaka."

Frowning, Anpo asked, "What of it?" She readjusted herself in her saddle and shrugged. "It has been this way all my life."

"But don't you want...?"

"What? To join with a man?" She snorted at his nod, shaking her own dark head in the negative. "Whatever for? I can hunt better than most men. I have learned how to scout and fight better than most men. Besides, I do not think a man would have me."

"Tanksi..."

"Hiya, tiblo! You know it is true!" They traveled a few more minutes, both deep in thought. "Would you have me?" Anpo finally asked.

Her friend sat straighter in his saddle. "I would."

The teenager burst out in laughter at the stoic, tragic face he held. "But, I would not have you, tiblo!" And she heeled her pony, causing it to rear up and shoot away.

The young warrior was only a second behind her, putting away his feelings of relief and dismay to race after his best friend.

"But, what will you do, tanksi? You will have no children to care for you when you are an elder."

The teenager sighed and rolled her eyes. Nupa just would not let the subject go. No matter how often she cajoled, teased and changed the subject, it was always brought back to this.

The pair had already made it to the split pine and had been working their way west through the rolling plains. There were no stops for meals, eating on the backs of their ponies. They'd only stopped once, at a creek for their steeds to drink. The sun was nearing its zenith, an indication they'd not much farther to go.

"You know as well as I, tiblo. I will adopt. Then I will have a son to teach." Seeing her friend's scowl, it finally occurred to her what his concern was. "You are worried that I will have no man? No one to sleep with?"

"I am worried that you will have no woman," he conceded. At her outright guffaw, he bristled. "Do you know how to cook for yourself? Tan hides? Sew? Do all the things your mother and sister do for you?"

"So, you suggest I find a woman who will share my robes?" Anpo couldn't help herself, she chuckled joyously at the thought.

It took a few minutes of scowling at his friend before the humor finally invaded Nupa's good senses. Soon, he was laughing as she.

"Tiblo!" she finally exclaimed when she'd controlled her laughter. "I will wait for you to marry Hca and move in with you!"

Snorting at the absurdity, the young man said, "Hau! You will be my second woman then!"

This, of course, sent the pair into further giggles as they rode along. Soon, smoke from many campfires could be seen in the distance. They stopped long enough to go over themselves and their ponies, straightening clothing and dusting off leathers. Nupa pulled out the bundle that had been given to them by the shaman.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Anpo nodded. "Ohan, tiblo. Let's you and I be welcomed."

The two rode for the camp of Wicasa Waziya Mani, circling round until they reached the eastern entrance. Several warriors around the camp had already heard their approach and were standing ready with weapons at hand. Women and children hovered nearby, the young ones excitedly moving around to get a better view of the newcomers.

As they entered the main clearing, there was a flash of yellow at one ti ikceya and Anpo frowned, a vague familiarness tickling her mind. She pulled her pony up short and spun around, searching for the color and finding nothing but warriors beginning to take umbrage at this break from custom.

Nupa had stopped as well, alert to something causing his best friend consternation. Unable to see anything, he edged his own steed closer and caught her eye.

The intense look of warning from the young man brought Anpo back to her senses. They were unable to speak until they had been received by the chief of this camp. She nodded in slight irritation and they proceeded to the largest lodge.

Upon their arrival, the two jumped off their ponies. Nupa opened the fur given him by their shaman. Nestled inside were three items - a medicine bundle created for this meeting, a small pouch of willow bark and an invitation wand with intricate designs stained on its wood. As it was Anpo who had been initially asked to volunteer for this trip, the young man handed her the wand, holding the other items still cradled in the fur.

Several old men had arrived from various points around the camp. One by one, they made their way into the oversized ti ikceya. A boy stepped forward and took their horses and a young warrior, younger than Anpo, held the tiopa covering aside for the visitors to enter.

It took a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the darker interior but, as expected, the honored place to the left of the chief was open for them to sit. Anpo settled down, her friend beside her.

She looked about the fire, noting many faces that were familiar. She'd seen most of these men at the summer and winter camps, when all the Lakota gathered together. While she was probably just one of the many, many young warriors in the world, these were the leaders of the people. Anpo nodded respectively towards the chief and held out the invitation wand.

Wicasa Waziya Mani, the chief of this camp, was a young man. His hair was still dark and his body hale. With powerful grace, he accepted the wand, nodding in return to the pair of young warriors. This was followed by the medicine bundle and willow bark.

The chief smiled as he showed all the elders present the invitation. He thanked the young warriors and introductions were made all around. "So, you have found tatanka?" he asked in a deep voice. "Is he near?"

"Ohan, wicahcala" the teenager answered with the proper feminine response. This caused a rustle through the ti ikceya as all became aware of exactly who they had in their council lodge. All knew of the wikoskalaka who acted as koskalaka. Anpo ignored it, having dealt with the surprise many times over the last few years. "He is a day's ride away from here, half a day from our own camp. Our chief, Wagmiza Wagna, asks that your camp join ours in a hunt four days from now."

Mani nodded, his dark eyes intent on the young warrior. "Please, be welcome in the camp. You will be guest at a feast and the elders will council on your invitation."

Anpo and Nupa nodded and made known their thanks before rising and leaving the lodge. Once outside, they found their ponies had already been led away to this camp's herd. Their gear had been placed in front of a ti ikceya nearby, the lodge they'd be sleeping in that night.

"Why did you stop when you and I arrived?" the young man asked as they sauntered to the lodge, all eyes of the camp upon them.

Anpo shrugged. "I do not know. I thought I saw something. I was trying to find it again."

They arrived at the ti ikceya and pulled their sleeping robes out. In a matter of moments the pair were reclining in front of the firepit, watching the remainder of the camp as they went about their business.

Nupa pulled a waterbag from his belongings and took a long draw. Handing it to his friend, he continued his questioning. "What was it you saw?"

"It is hard to explain, tiblo," the teenager sighed, taking the waterbag and drinking deeply. She wiped her mouth and sealed it, settling the bag between them. "I am not sure if I saw something or felt it."

The young man nodded solemnly. "I understand. It is the same with my visions - I see it, but I do not. It is very confusing at times."

"Ohan!" Anpo exclaimed, sitting forward and peering into the flames. "That was how it felt! Like my vision!"

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 breath, 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.

"Hau, Mani!" Wagmiza Wagna stated grandly, his arms wide.

The younger chief held out the invitation wand delivered to him the day before. "Hau, Wagna. We are honored that you have asked us to hunt with you."

And then the three were urged into the council ti ikceya. Several young men and women ran to their herd and hopped onto ponies, thundering away to the north to assist the visiting camp.

It wasn't long before the new arrivals were present and setting up their own lodges in the cleared spaces. While the women and girls puttered about, the men and boys began gathering at various fires to greet old friends and exchange stories and news.

Anpo sat quietly at her father's fire, sharpening an antler spearhead by grinding it against a rock. Wanbli Zi was in the council lodge with the rest of the elders and her mother was off to visit her maske who resided in Mani's camp. She wasn't sure where her sister was. Probably helping someone set up their ti ikceya, she thought. Or fawning over all the young warriors. I wonder if my tiblo's feeling anxious? A grin crossed the warrior's face.

As if the thought had called him, Nupa came running up to her, excitement in his bearing. "Hau, tanksi! You must come with me!"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Hiya. I am busy now." She did not relish the idea of playing games of chance, her mind was worrying the vision of her future and taking most of her attention.

"Hoh, tanksi! You must! There is something I must show you."

"Can it not wait until later, tiblo?"

The handsome young warrior shook his head. Though his face was solemn, his eyes sparkled brilliantly.

Sighing with some consternation, the woman set her spear to one side. She knew from experience that to deny Nupa in this mood would only strengthen his resolve. He was nothing if not stubborn when he set his mind. Acting disgruntled for his benefit, Anpo rose from her seat and mock-glared at him. "Lead on."

His smile was brilliant against his dark face and he turned away with a gesture for her to follow.

In moments they arrived at a visiting family's ti ikceya. The setup of the lodge was complete and an older and younger winyan were presently preparing the outdoor cookfire and setting out the various accouterments needed for day to day life. Several young men and women from Anpo's camp were loitering about, casting surreptitious glances at the tent.

Intrigued at the interest shown this one lodge, the young woman looked to her friend. "What is it you wish to show me?"

"You will see. Be patient." Nupa's face was aglow.

Eyes narrowed in slight irritation, Anpo returned her gaze to the ti ikceya. She also began to notice that the other members of her camp had begun watching her as well, more so than usual. I do not understand. I am no different than yesterday. Her brow furrowed.

The old woman of the lodge glanced around at the collected people who were appearing to be nonchalant in their rude stares. Muttering curses under her breath at their impudence, she marched over to the tiopa and pushed aside the covering. Calling inside, she bid the occupants to come out into the daylight.

Despite herself, Anpo picked up on the anticipation of the others loitering about. Their eyes intensified as they watched, their glances more and more centering on her. Just as she was about to speak of this strangeness to Nupa, there was movement at the lodge and she found her own dark eyes drawn there.

A small child climbed out, a hoksila of about four winters. Behind him was an older wicincala.

"They are only children, tiblo," she murmured to her friend.

"Hiya, tanksi," the warrior beside her responded. There was further movement at the tiopa and he grasped his friend's arm. "Look!"

Hesitantly, a pale woman stepped out into the waning sunlight. Her hair was long, longer than Anpo's, and was the color of the Sun itself. It was tied back at the neck, but flowed freely below that, hanging to her waist. Her skin was so light as to be almost white in color with a slight golden tint to it. She was wearing the standard dress of the women of Anpo's people, buckskin and long, with moccasins on her feet.

It is her!! Anpo couldn't begin to describe what she felt. All time seemed to stop. No breath came to her, her mouth was open in shock, her heart beat hard in her chest. She watched the stranger be guided to the fire where the old woman set her to work cutting roots.

The people of her own camp cast their eyes between the two enigmas, the woman with the light skin and the woman who was a warrior. Both were interesting in their own rights, though the response from Anpo was a thing to be discussed for some time.

Nupa studied his friend, feeling her lean into his hand where he still held her arm. Almost as if she could not stand on her own. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated, and he could see the beat of her pulse in her neck. "Is she the one?" he asked, knowing the answer.

Rousing from her stupor, Anpo inhaled deeply to fill her aching lungs with air. Her mouth snapped shut and it was all she could do to simply nod in response. Even though the woman had yet to look up at the surrounding camp, she knew. She will have eyes the color of a deep lake.

Her friend grinned widely and squeezed her arm again. "It is the time of your vision!" he exclaimed. "The sacred tatanka ska will be yours before the hunt is finished!"

The old woman, tired of being stared at, began yelling at the young men and women of the camp, picking up a piece of firewood to threaten them. They scattered and moved off, abuzz at this new topic of conversation.

Unbidden, Anpo was dragged off again by her friend. She put up no fight, her mind in an uproar.

Kathleen peered up at the people moving away from the old grandmother who was haranguing them. Ye're lucky ye've not made her angry, lass, she thought, watching the ferocious old woman threaten to beat people with her stick. When the elder was finished, she turned to glare at her household and the blonde dropped her eyes. She diligently cut the vegetables she'd been given, hoping to not get hit. She hasn't hit me in the time I've been here, Kathleen reasoned, attempting to allay her fears.

Once the apparent danger had passed, she relaxed into her task. She was almost able to pretend that she was still in her own home, preparing a nice supper for her husband. But the women and children speaking to one another brought back reality, their language a foreign noise impinging on her daydream.

Kathleen didn't know where the man had gone. He had disappeared once they'd reached this camp. The blonde continued her chore, wondering why they had joined with this other band of natives and what would happen now.

Unbeknownst to her, a pair of dark eyes watched her every move.

Anpo felt like a child as she spied on the pale woman from behind another ti ikceya. Memories of skulking around the camp with her pack of hoksila as they stalked their prey among the lodges came rushing back and she blushed. You feel like a child because you are acting like one.

But she did not walk away.

The young woman had insisted she was fine once she'd regained her voice. With a firm hand and words, she'd finally gotten Nupa to leave her at her mother's tent. And then she'd returned here, unable to keep away. She crouched behind a ti ikceya, peeking around and at the visitors' hearth.

It is like watching a dream come to life! she marveled. She is real! Not a spirit! Anpo chewed her upper lip in uncertainty. But.... What does it mean?

"See anything interesting?"

The young warrior shot up to her feet so fast, she almost toppled over. A warm hand grasped her upper arm to steady her and Anpo turned to look, wide-eyed at the interruption. She swallowed heavily. "Inyan!"

The shaman of her camp wore a crooked smile. "Hau, Anpo," he said by way of greeting. "I ask you again. Do you see anything interesting?"

Dark eyes darted back towards the firepit. The sun was beginning to set and the light from the flames seemed to spark the color of the strange woman's hair, producing an aura about her head. "Ohan, Inyan, I do," she finally whispered in response, her lack of the honorific wicahcala a measure of her unsettled state.

"Come with me, Anpo." When the young warrior didn't move, he tugged her upper arm, pulling her away. "We must talk."

Anpo allowed herself to be pulled away, tearing her gaze from the vision and flushing slightly at her own behavior. What is wrong with me!?

The shaman led his charge to his woman's ti ikceya. Rather than sit outside in the public eye, he drew Anpo inside and sat her on his left. There was a brief moment of unspoken conversation between he and his woman before she nodded and left the lodge.

The warrior was still in a daze after nearly an hour. It was obvious from the glassy eyed stare at the firepit. Inyan Ceye sighed, half in concern and half in humor. When he'd heard of the white woman that had come with Wicasa Waziya Mani's camp, he knew that Anpo would be in need of counsel. It was Nupa's arrival at his fire that caused the shaman to seek her out. Inyan set about the familiar task of smoking a pipe.

The stem thrust at her and his voice calling brought Anpo out of her mental anguish. She shook herself, bringing herself to the here and now and received the pipe. The two smoked in silence, the almost ritualistic feel of the situation serving to ground the young woman.

"She is the one," Inyan stated as he tapped the remains of the pipebowl into the firepit.

Swallowing hard, Anpo nodded. "Ohan, wicahcala. She looks just as I saw her four winters ago." Her dark eyes filled with awe. "How can that be? She is not much older than I."

"Now it is confirmed that you did, indeed, see the future in your vision, Anpo. Tell me, do you now look as the warrior woman who slew the tatanka ska?"

The young woman's eyes narrowed as she contemplated his question. Coming up with the vision in question, they widened. "I do!" she exclaimed in an almost strangled whisper. Before the shaman could respond, she focused on him intently. "If I can see my future, why can I not see why the woman calls me mahasanni ki?"

Inyan shrugged and tilted his head. "What wakan tanka wishes you to know will be told you. I do not presume to understand."

Sufficiently chastised, Anpo dropped her head. "I am sorry, wicahcala. I did not mean to --"

"Do not concern yourself, wikoskalaka," the shaman said with a smile, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. "You are young and do not know the ways of the spirits. They do not begrudge you because of your ignorance."

The young warrior kept her head bowed, but nodded nonetheless.

"You have questions, Anpo. They rise off of you like smoke from a fire. Perhaps I can help you...?"

Anpo collected her thoughts, tried to focus them in some constructive manner. "I do not know how to begin, wicahcala."

"Then look into the flames, Anpo. Use the fire to burn away the confusion and clear your mind."

The young warrior did as she was bade, staring into the firepit, meditating on her emotions and thoughts and soul. A long time passed and Anpo could feel herself calming, her breath deepening as she relaxed.

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."

"When we hunt, will my killing the sacred tatanka ska hurt the white woman?" Anpo asked, her voice distant.

"I do not believe so. When she spoke to you in your vision, she used the phrase, 'Mahasanni ki.' She will know you well before she is wounded."

The warrior turned her head to look at Inyan. "She belongs to another, wicahcala. How is it that she would call me this? I cannot be a man to her. I am wikoskalaka, as is she." Her brow furrowed as she tried to comprehend the meaning of the vision.

"You are wikoskalaka, Anpo. As is she," the shaman agreed, nodding. "Perhaps it is because of the sacred tatanka that she will come to you. And perhaps you are destined to be close... closer than even maske."

"Is that possible?" she asked in a small voice, returning her gaze to the fire.

"I believe so." Inyan began filling the bowl of his pipe with crushed, dried leaves.

I do not want to hurt her. I will not hurt her! "I will not go on the hunt."

The shaman paused in his task for a split second before continuing on. "Wi Ile Anpo, are you a warrior for the Lakota?"

Dark eyes blinked at the man. "What...? Ohan, wicahcala! Of course!"

"But you would not hunt for your people because the tatanka ska is waiting for you?" The warrior shied away from his question, and he continued. "You would deprive your ina, your ate, your tiospaye of much needed food for the coming winter?"

"Hiya, wicahcala," Anpo muttered, dropping her head in shame. "I would not."

"It is not easy to know of the future, wikoskalaka. It never is. But you cannot do anything to stop it." He skillfully lit his pipe and puffed on it in contemplation. "Did the white woman die in your vision, Anpo?"

The young woman frowned as she considered. "Hiya, Inyan. She was wounded by my hand and bleeding."

"I know that you do not have experience in the way of wicasa and winyan, Anpo," the shaman said, treading carefully. "You do not know that it is not unusual for a couple to hurt each other very deeply."

"My parents have not hurt each other, wicahcala," the warrior responded as she looked up, question in her eyes.

"Not with weapons, hiya. But with words, with actions. Their feelings have been hurt and though they might not bleed from a wound, they bleed inside." Inyan Ceye shrugged. "It is the natural way of things and helps people grow."

There was a long silence while Anpo digested this bit of information. "You believe that I will hurt this woman and that it will not be by my weapons...?"

Leaning forward, the shaman stared at her intently, capturing her eyes. "Do you believe that you could hurt her with a weapon?"

Anpo sat back in shock, dark eyes wide. "Hiya! I could not!"

"And you do not even know her yet," the man nodded sagely. He offered the pipe to the young woman and they smoked in silence.

"Because of the tatanka ska she will come to me. And we will come to know each other well. And then I will hurt her somehow, enough to make her bleed within," the young warrior intoned. "But she still cares for me, still calls me mahasanni ki...." Her eyes took on a look of wonder. I do not know if I am worthy of this gift.

The man nodded in agreement. "That would seem to be the way of it, wikoskalaka."

They finished the pipe in silence. When it was complete, Inyan Ceye tapped it out into the firepit. "Do you understand your vision more fully, warrior?"

"Ohan, wicahcala, I do." She rose to her feet and smiled at the elder. "Ask anything of me in return for your aid in this matter."

The shaman rose as well, a grin on his face. "I ask that you be happy, Anpo."

Smile softening at unseen emotions and images, the warrior responded, "I will, wicahcala."

Inyan Ceye had given her much to think about. Anpo's natural good spirits had returned and she arrived at her mother's ti ikceya with a lighter step. She found the women putting the final touches on a stew.

"Han, mitankala," her sister called with a smile.

"Han, cuwekala." Anpo squatted down next to the fire and collected the spearhead and stone she'd been working with earlier in the day. "It smells good, ina."

Waniyetu Gi smiled at her youngest daughter. Using a carved wooden utensil, she dipped out a bit of stew and waved Anpo closer.

Obediently, the warrior leaned forward and took a taste. With closed eyes and a great appreciative look on her face, Anpo exclaimed, "Very good, ina! Yours will be the best at the feast!"

"Now you must taste mine, mitankala," Hca Wanahca insisted, holding a bit of pemmican close.

Anpo chewed on it, recognizing the taste of the berries they'd had for lunch a few days ago. "Mmmm, cuwekala. Your wansi is always tasteful!"

"They will make you fat and lazy, tanksi," a familiar voice said with a laugh.

The young woman waved her friend closer. "Come try my cuwe's wansi, tiblo."

Nupa, not able to pass up an opportunity to flirt with his friend's sister, stepped forward with a grin. He received a piece of the meat and fruit mixture from the blushing wikoskalaka, rolling his eyes in gratitude.

Ignoring her sister's blush, Anpo glanced towards the council fire. "The people are beginning to gather."

"Hau," the warrior agreed with a nod. "Let's you and I join them."

The pair wandered towards the gathering, carrying robes to sit on. Behind them, Waniyetu Gi and Hca Wanahca collected their offerings for the feast and followed. Their fathers and the other elders from both camps were already seating themselves. Soon, only those not guarding the herd of ponies were at the council fire.

The chief, Wagmiza Wagna, sat in front of the tiopa of the council lodge. To his left and in the honored space was Wicasa Waziya Mani and his advisors. To Wagna's right were the two messengers, Anpo and Nupa. The old chief stood and held his arms wide, garnering the attention of the people.

"Today is a very good day!" he exclaimed with a smile. "Our brave warriors, Anpo and Nupa," and Wagna gestured to the pair beside him, "have returned from their task and brought chief Mani to our fires." Here he turned to the younger chief who sat proud. "In two days we shall hunt the great tatanka and, perhaps our camp will be even more honored and one of our own will slay the sacred tatanka ska."

The gathered warriors yipped in excitement.

Anpo tried to control the blush she felt as most of the people from her camp looked to her with knowing smiles and nods. I may not kill the tatanka ska, she thought. It might not be the time. But deep in her heart she knew that was a falsehood.

"Let's the feast begin!" Wagna called.

The women of the joined camps began serving their men and brothers and sons. Among them was the white woman, causing quite a stir. The warrior who owned her was the recipient of many a ribald joke as the evening wore on, all of which he accepted with good nature.

But one warrior did not share the humor. Anpo ate her meal in silence, occasionally smiling and answering her friend and chief who spoke with her. And rarely did her eyes leave the blonde.

Chapter 4

Tatanka Ska Ki
(tah-tahn-kah skah kee)

The White Buffalo

1777

The morning of the hunt dawned clear and cool, a good omen. The warriors from the joined tribes gathered together before the council ti ikceya. The two shamans worked together to call down the blessings of wakan tanka upon the warriors surrounding them. The two chiefs were anointed with a special mixture of herbal oils, to aid them in leading their hunters with certainty and swiftness. A final pipe was smoked among the elders and honored. And then there was a loud outcry as the warriors leapt onto their hunting ponies and rode out of the camp. Hoksila pelted after them, calling out good luck to their favorites.

"You will slay tatanka ska!" Nupa called to his friend as they rode side by side. Other warriors of their camp called out in agreement.

Anpo's face was grim. "Only if it is to be, tiblo."

Her friend nodded. "It is to be, tanksi! You will be the honored one tonight!"

Soon, the party halted on a hilltop. Below them, a herd of buffalo grazed, easily two hundred head. The sacred white animal was difficult to spot among such a number.

Wicasa Waziya Mani called his own warriors together. "My people will attack from the south! Wait until I signal!" And they rode off.

The time passed slowly for the anxious warriors remaining. All were peering at the herd, trying to locate the sacred buffalo. The men murmured back and forth as it bobbed in and out of sight. It seemed to take forever before a signal was seen from the opposing flank of the herd.

"Hokahe wana!" Wagmiza Wagna called and the hunters of his camp swooped down the low embankment, screaming their cries. Simultaneously, Mani's warriors did the same, resulting in a cacophony of sound and motion that startled the closest buffalo.

There was an immediate if confused response from the herd. Those nearest the advancing warriors started and milled about anxiously, searching for the cause of their distress. The beasts further away began to gently drift in the opposite direction, instinct picking up on their danger.

The first warrior, Mani himself, reached the herd. He flew along on the back of his hunting pony, the reins in his teeth and a nocked bow in his hands. As he neared a large bull, he let fly his arrow, automatically reaching to his leather quiver for the next. The arrow hit its target, striking from above the flank and ranging forward and down. It was a clear and strong shot.

The buffalo's heart was pierced and it shuddered before falling over. This seemed to signal the herd. The smell of blood, the noise of their surroundings, the thunder of horses' hooves - all resulted in the sudden stampede as they tried desperately to get away.

Mani did not stop as his steed raced past the dead beast. He targeted another and shot again. Behind and on the other side of the herd, the warriors did the same.

The first beast that Anpo took was a yearling bull. Her shot was clean and the animal was dead on its feet. As it tumbled over, disrupting the escape of its brethren behind, the woman urged her pony forward to her next target. The next was a cow, her calf lumbering along beside her as she tried to flee the massacre. As Anpo nocked a third arrow, another cow nearby collapsed, her father's spear sprouting from its side.

Exhilarated despite the impending prophecy, Anpo turned on her steed long enough to grin and whoop at her father's success.

"Hau! Anpo!"

The warrior's head whipped around. She found Nupa further ahead, yelling and gesturing wildly. Looking into the herd, she saw the sacred white buffalo almost materialize in front of her.

Things seemed to move in slow motion. While around it, the herd was stampeding, the white animal slowed to a walk. He is waiting for me!

Anpo looked about to see if any other warrior had noticed this strange behavior. Even as she pulled her horse in that direction, she saw three others veering towards the buffalo. One was a member of her own camp, an older man of an age with her father. The other two were from the joining camp - Mani himself and Hehaka Yatke, the man who owned the white woman.

As if this were a catalyst, time sped back up and Anpo's pony fairly flew towards the white buffalo that had eerily come to a halt. She took a deep breath to still her fluttering nerves and released the arrow.

Time crawled again as the warrior watched her arrow spin towards her target. Even over the sound of stampeding she thought she could hear three other bow strings loose their own missiles. The buffalo turned its head, a dark, liquid eye regarding her. And then it started as her arrow pierced its hide and drove deep - a true shot.

Anpo watched the animal shudder and topple over, her arrowhead piercing its heart. Two other arrows stuck out of the hide.

Though the hunt continued around her, Anpo pulled her steed up and dismounted, moving to the sacred animal. "Thank you, tatanka ska, for this great honor. My family will use your bone and meat and hide to survive the coming winter. And you will always be honored in my ti ikceya."

Around her was still pandemonium. Warriors sped past, hot on the trail of the animals crazed with fear. Her own pony pranced anxiously about at the ruckus. Yet, despite the last of the herd stampeding past, none disturbed Anpo and her kill.

With a careful hand, the young woman reached to the wound her arrow sprouted from. Taking blood on her fingertips, she drew two lightning bolts from her eyes to her chin. She remained in her place on her knees beside her kill, eyes closed as she continued to pay the sacred animal's spirit homage.

Eventually, the sound of horses roused her. Anpo inhaled deeply and opened her eyes, rising to stand. Several warriors from both camps arrived, whooping in excitement.

"Tanksi! I told you!" Nupa called, clearly elated at his best friend's success. "You have brought this camp much honor with wakan tanka!" He hopped off his horse and ran forward to clap Anpo on the back.

Others from both camps clambered off their mounts to congratulate the young woman. Anpo smiled and flushed from their praise. There was a pause in the well-wishing when the two chiefs arrived. Both, elder and younger, approached the carcass and studied it, speaking softly to one another.

Wicasa Waziya Mani bent, whispered something to the bull, and yanked the arrow that had been his from the flesh. His teeth were bright against his dark skin as he approached the waiting warriors. "You have done well, wikoskalaka," he said.

Nodding, Anpo responded, "Thank you, wicahcala."

More horses thundered up as the rest of the men arrived. One threw himself from his saddle and angrily marched towards the knot of warriors gathered at the beast.

"The tatanka ska is my kill!" Hehaka Yatke argued. "I am the honored one! Not some wicincala!"

There was a collective gasp as Anpo was slurred. Even Yatke's chief turned to stare at his warrior, ashamed for his rudeness. "Yatke..." he growled, eyes flashing.

"Hoh, Mani!" the enraged warrior interrupted. "You might be willing to step aside for a wicincala pretending to be wicasa, but I will not! You saw the shot! You know I speak truly!"

"I know that you and I and two others all tried to slay the tatanka ska at the same time. Three arrows pierced the animal's hide." Mani spread his hands out, an apologetic look sent the young woman's way. "I know that my arrow was not deep enough to kill. I do not believe yours was either, Yatke."

The other man refused to back down. "I claim the tatanka ska," he insisted, arms crossed over his chest and chin jutting out in defiance.

"Then let the shamans ask the spirit of tatanka ska," came a clear voiced suggestion.

Everyone turned to look at Anpo.

"The shamans will talk to his spirit and will know who slew him," the warrior continued, her face relaxed though her eyes were hard.

There was a general murmur from the other warriors as this was considered. While the hunting was over, it wasn't official, and no wars or vendettas could be fought until it was. All seemed to find it a good idea except the disputor.

"Hoh! There is no need! A wikoskalaka could never shoot an arrow with enough strength to kill tatanka!"

Anpo's eyes narrowed and she frowned. Around her, a good portion of the warriors from both camps growled, having seen the previous kills she'd made. A whisper of a memory crossed her mind. I will become better than most men.

The warrior refused to back up when the woman stepped forward to glare deeply into his eyes.

In a strong voice, Anpo asked, "Then you are afraid?"

Yatke's back stiffened even more. Pushing his face until it was a mere breath away from her own, he said, "I am not afraid of you or old men."

Undaunted, the young woman said, "Then you will abide by their decision?"

"If they decide against me, they will be wrong." He paused in thought. "But, I will abide by it."

A vision crossed Anpo's mind - the white woman with hair like the sun. "If the shamans decide in your favor, I will give you my best hunting pony. If they decide in my favor, you will give me the strange woman."

A flash of confusion briefly crossed Yatke's eyes. As all awaited his decision, he weighed the options. Up to this point, the pale woman had barely held her own, unable to understand the language or what was demanded of her as his woman and slave. It would be a loss of stature to lose her, no more than that. But, I will not lose.

Yatke smiled. "I agree. Let these wicasa," and he stressed the word, "be witness."

Wagmiza Wagna pointed to the nearest warrior still on his horse. "Go! Tell our shamans I have need of their counsel! And tell the rest of the camp this hunt is complete! Wana!"

The rider shot off at a full gallop, racing towards the camp.

There was some time before the messenger would return. In the meanwhile, warriors picked their way through the killing field, describing to each other the details of their kill.

Nupa remained at his friend's side. He cast sidelong glares at Yatke, who stood alone. "His head is full of feathers," he growled. "Anyone could see that you have the honor here, tanksi."

Shrugging in feigned disinterest, Anpo looked over the field. "I told you, tiblo. I will have the honor only if it is to be." Her mind saw a head of golden hair, eyes of the deepest blue. Is it to be?

Her friend refused to respond to her skepticism.

Soon, the rider returned, two other ponies with him carrying the wise men of the joined camps. Behind the three could be seen the approaching camp, preparing to slaughter the kill and ready the evening's feast.

Inyan Ceye climbed from his steed. "There is a dispute?" he asked, looking at the young woman.

Before the warrior could respond, Yatke spoke up. "Hau! There is!" He waved vaguely in Anpo's direction. "This... this... wikoskalaka," he sneered, "thinks the tatanka ska is hers. But she is not strong enough to slay it."

The shaman raised an eyebrow at Anpo who nodded in return. Turning to his comrade, a man about a dozen years senior, Inyan Ceye smiled. "Let's you and I have a look at tatanka ska so that we might ease these warriors' hearts and minds." And the two strode over and bent to their task.

As the women and girls picked over the carcasses, identifying their mens' kills by the decorations on the weapons, the two older men pored over the white buffalo. Soon, they each took out a rattle and other tools of their trade. Nearby stood a gaggle of hoksila, watching the proceedings with avid interest. A pipe was smoked, a chant commenced with much rattling and fanfare as the shamans joined forces to speak with the dead animal's spirit.

Anpo stood tall and proud, keeping her anxiety and anger under control. You are better than most men, Wi Ile Anpo, she thought. Catching movement from the corner of her eye, she watched her opponent pace. And definitely better than this man. She could feel the flow of strength from her friend and her father who stood behind her.

No one stood behind Yatke.

When most of the slaughtering had been done, the two men finished their spiritual quest. Both dusted off their robes and put away their shamanic instruments. There was a low sound of their voices as they conferred. Apparently coming to an agreement, the pair approached the disputing parties.

The elder shaman of Yatke's camp spoke up. "We have come to a decision. Will you abide by it?"

Anpo bowed her head in agreement. "I will abide by your decision, wicahcala. And I will keep my part of the wager."

"And I," the other warrior spouted, stepping forward with irritation that the woman had spoken first.

Nodding, the older of the shamans stepped back, gesturing towards Inyan Ceye.

"We have walked the land of the spirits and spoken to many who witnessed this hunt," the younger shaman intoned, eyes closed. "We have found the spirit of tatanka ska and asked him his opinion of this matter between two of our best hunters." Inyan Ceye opened his eyes and they snagged the attention of all who surrounded them. "Tatanka ska knows that the warrior in the yellow shirt slew him."

There was a moment of silence as his statement sunk in. And then Nupa whooped and pounded his friend on the back, nearly knocking her over in excitement. Anpo's knees felt watery and it was all she could do to keep her feet as relief washed over her. And something else coursed through her blood - a trickle of fear.

Hehaka Yatke stood frozen, a look of disbelief on his face.

His chief, Mani, approached and studied the man for long seconds. "I am witness," he said softly, bringing the warrior back to the present and reminding him of his wager. "When you lose, do not lose the lesson."

Kathleen wiped her sweaty forehead on her shoulder, about the only part of her anatomy that wasn't currently covered in gore. She was blood to the elbows and smears of the red liquid were on her dress and moccasins. Butcherin's hard work, she thought in tired amazement. I've always wondered why Adam was so exhausted when he was done with the venison. The blonde hurriedly returned to skinning the animal she was working on when the old grandmother began an angry tirade.

That morning there'd been a huge party at the main fires. There had been a lot of ceremonies and dancing, though the blonde had been surprised that it hadn't lasted too long. Not as long as their suppers, anyway. And then most of the men had ridden out of camp as if all the hounds of Hell had been upon them. Kathleen had sensed quite a bit of excitement from everyone in the camp and was all out curious. But her command of the language was still minimal and impeded her eavesdropping on the women she lived with.

At mid morning, a lone rider had returned. The clatter of hooves had drawn all the natives close and Kathleen trailed behind, holding the boy child. She watched as the rider hurled himself from his saddle and pelted towards the huge tent in the center of camp. Others were obviously puzzled by his behavior because a low buzz of conversation arose and a few frowns could be seen. Within moments, however, the rider had stepped back out of the tent, a large smile gracing his face. He spoke up, loud and clear, and the people cheered before suddenly becoming very industrious.

Kathleen found herself divested of the child she was carrying and herded back towards the tent she lived in. From there, the two women gathered several utensils and pushed some of them into her hands. She was surprised to find herself holding an obsidian knife. Do they trust me with weapons now? she wondered. Further thought wasn't allowed, however, as she was pulled and prodded away from the camp.

It was then that she noticed all the other members of the camp doing the same, a mass migration to the south. Within a few minutes, the group arrived at a low plain. Scattered all across it were dead animals.

That's what was happenin'! Kathleen's blue eyes grew wide as she made the connection. T'were huntin' for game! And then she found herself being pulled along until they came to an animal. The women with her began the slaughtering, urging her close and mimicking which way she should use her own knife to cut the thick hide.

Nearby, a cluster of the men had gathered and the blonde had looked up from her work when she'd heard angry voices. She was surprised to find that one of them was the man with the yellow shirt, the one who'd been watching her intently for the few days the camps had been joined. The other was the man she was living with. He must really be mad about somethin', Kathleen thought fearfully. Memories of an abusive savage came to her, flashes of pain from her many violations, and she shuddered.

And then the two old men that Kathleen thought were priests of some sort began singing over the body of an unusual colored carcass. Several men stood nearby and watched. Unable to fathom what they were about, the blonde returned her attention to her task. If he's mad already, I don't want ta give him cause ta beat me, she reasoned, slicing through the muscle of a leg to render the meat into smaller sizes. That he hadn't beat her before didn't cross her mind.

The words of his chief echoed in his head. "When you lose, do not lose the lesson." Yatke remained still, fighting the fury within at being bested by a wikoskalaka. But, what is the lesson?

His dark eyes regarded the young woman before him. Despite the pronouncement from the shamans, she did not smile, did not gloat at him for his loss. She was tall and strong, taller than most of the men around her. In fact, had Yatke not known that she was wikoskalaka, he would have assumed she was koskalaka. The woman before him was a warrior and proud, though not vain or ill spirited. She is a fine example of a warrior.

That thought surprised him and his anger seemed to drain away. Yatke looked around the killing field, locating his family. The woman in question was helping to slaughter one of his kills. She has been wounded deep inside by the others, the people who had her before. She will never willingly accept my bed or bear my children. Glancing down at the carcass of the white buffalo, he continued his train of thought. It is only fitting that the winyan jiji be given to the warrior who has slain tatanka ska.

With a nod to his chief, Yatke turned and left the group of men. He approached his family, receiving a hug from his son and listening to his young daughter chatter. A few words were spoken to his woman and his mother before he gestured at the blonde.

Kathleen, upon hearing the voice of the man she lived with, stopped her cutting and rose with the others. Unable to understand the language well, she watched blankly as he spoke to the other women. And then he waved her closer. The blonde recognized the word for 'come' in his chatter and approached with a wariness. Now, what? Is he still angry, then? Am I ta be beaten for somethin'? Does it start again? But a look into his eyes showed none of the flashing emotion.

She flinched just a bit when he grasped her upper arm and pulled her away from the others. Obediently, she came along, her brow furrowed in confusion. And then she was standing in front of the man with the yellow shirt.

Yatke literally handed the strange woman to the wikoskalaka. "I do not give this woman to you to pay a wager. I freely give her to honor your skill as a hunter and warrior of our people." He released the woman's arm and grinned. "Ask me anything to pay the wager due you."

Surprised at his change of heart, Anpo stared at him. Considering the bet, she said, "I will accept a pony so that the woman can ride."

He nodded and stepped back. "It shall be as you say. A pony for the wager." And then he turned to walked away.

It took a few moments for Kathleen to understand what exactly was going on. But, when she did, an icy hand gripped her heart and her blood pounded in her ears. He gave me away! she thought with horror. Oh, God! Now what will happen ta me!? Her ears picked up the conversation between the two men but she was frozen in fear. What if this one's like the last!? I don't think I can survive it again! Visions of her previous rapist filled her mind.

"Wait!" When he turned around, Anpo asked, "Does she have a name?"

Yatke shrugged. "I do not know. She was unable to tell us. We have used Jiji until she could speak to us." As the young woman was apparently satisfied with the response, he nodded and left.

"Your vision has come true, tanksi," Nupa grinned at his friend. "You have the honor of tatanka ska and the pale woman with hair like the sun!" He peered over her shoulder to look at the stranger. "Does this mean you will not move in with your cuwe's family when she marries?"

The pale woman's arm trembled beneath her grip and Anpo ignored her friend's joking. She is as scared as I! she marveled. But, why? Does she know of our destiny? The stranger's fear bolstered her own courage.

Kathleen stared at her filthy moccasins, blinking back tears. She heard the man speaking, but wasn't able to understand. And then, fingers were under her chin, bringing her face up to look at him. She peered into deep brown eyes that were full of curiosity, wonder and something else, something she couldn't quite define. The blonde's terror seemed to fade under the warrior's gaze, despite the bloody streaks that had been painted on his cheeks.

Eyes the blue of a deep lake. The world seemed to recede as their eyes locked. Anpo could hear her friend speaking, but couldn't hear the words. She also heard her father responding and the presence of them dissipated as they left the two women alone. "What is your name?" she asked.

There was a flash of confusion and, for the first time in weeks, Kathleen actually spoke up. "I don't know what ye want of me. I don't know yer words."

The musical tone of the woman's voice and language, despite its rustiness from lack of use, set Anpo back. A smile teased her lips. Her voice sounds like the birds and the wind playing through the trees.

She glanced quickly around, wanting to share this thought with someone, but no one was there. Most of the warriors and older children had helped the women gather the carcasses and return to camp. Her mother and sister were working on the tatanka ska now that it had been decided the honor was Anpo's. Nearby were a handful of people, the shamans, the chiefs, her father and friend, and Yatke and his family.

Anpo returned her attention to the white woman. "What is your name?" she asked again. This time, she patted her chest and stated, "Anpo." This was followed by her palm pressing into the woman's chest and a raised eyebrow.

My name! He wants ta know my name! Blue eyes lit up in comprehension and joy. None of the others had ever asked before. With an almost shy smile, she said, "Kathleen. I am Kathleen." She patted her own chest while using the name.

The warrior before her nodded. "Ketlin," was repeated, the accent making it sound exotic.

"Yes!"

Anpo sucked in a breath at the brilliant smile and couldn't help but return it. As she still had hold of the woman's arm, she brought her to the tatanka ska. "Ina," the warrior said, interrupting the women's labors. "Cuwekala. This is Ketlin. She is my woman now and will help you. Teach her what she needs to know."

Hca Wanahca smiled and rose to her feet. "Ohan, mitankala. I will teach her." She held out a bundle of skin that held two livers on it. "When we are finished with tatanka ska I will have Ketlin bring you the last piece." With a welcome gesture, she urged the pale woman towards her. "Come here, Ketlin."

Kathleen saw the strong resemblance between the man and the woman who was waving her closer. Siblings, then? Like me an' Stewart? She heard the word for 'come' followed by her name and approached. Soon she was helping to slaughter the final animal that was left on the field.

Nupa approached his friend with a wry smile on his face. "You look like hehaka just when he realizes he is being hunted, eyes wide and frozen in stillness."

Shaking herself from her reverie, the young woman pushed him with a shoulder. "I look no different from you when you eat at my father's fire," she teased, indicating her sister with her chin.

His eyes narrowed and the smile faded. "Is that the way it is between you and the white woman?" he asked. "Do you feel for her what I feel for Hca?"

Anpo grimaced, the good humor gone for the moment. "I do not know, tiblo. I just know that Ketlin and I have a destiny to share for good or ill."

Deciding to lighten the mood, Nupa laughed and slapped his friend on the back. "You have slain the tatanka ska, tanksi! It will be for good! I know it!!" He pulled her towards the remaining people gathered. "Come! They are nearly finished with their work. There will be a grand feast to celebrate!"

Pushing the confusion and fears away, Anpo joined in his laughter and allowed herself to be led away. But her eyes continued to track the white woman's movements. The vision lives, in reality as well as my heart. What will I do that will cause her to bleed?

After sharing the two livers out with the remaining men, Anpo and the others wandered back to the camp. There, a gathering was already beginning at the main fire, the warriors and their sons and younger brothers and elders. The tales were already being told fast and furious, the smaller children's eyes wide at the descriptions of the hunt that had just concluded.

Upon their arrival, space was made for the important men of the camp, the chiefs and shamans. Wagmiza Wagna cheerfully cleared the space to his left and waved the young woman forward. "Here, wikoskalaka! Sit here with me!"

Flushing, Anpo looked to Wicasa Waziya Mani who was being displaced from the honored position.

The younger chief smiled and gestured her closer. "Please, Anpo. It would honor me for you to sit here between us."

A bit nervous, the young woman nodded and settled down. Such honor for one of only sixteen winters. And the woman! I do not know if I am worthy of this. Her uneasiness faded, however, as the normal pattern of things asserted themselves. Pipes were pulled out, tales were spun and around the camp, women and girls were preparing the feast, the boys raced off to re-enact the stories they'd heard.

Anpo's attention was drawn away from one of the speakers when she saw the yellow hair of her woman. My woman. She shook her head at the thought and banished it for the moment, the complications of it too much to deal with for now. Ketlin. I wonder what her name means.

Kathleen had been cleaned up a bit after she and the other women brought the rest of the buffalo back to camp. The girl that was with her - Hca. Her name is Hca. - had put a skin with the liver of the animal they'd slaughtered in her hands. She was then led to the large gathering at the main fire.

"You must give this to Anpo," Hca said, giving the pale woman a gentle shove in her sister's direction.

Hearing the name, Kathleen looked about and found the man in the yellow shirt. She nodded her understanding, though the words weren't making sense. I'm ta give this ta him. With hesitant steps, she moved forward and around the group of men, painfully aware of the many eyes that followed her.

Anpo watched the woman approach, her attention so drawn away from the current speaker that his voice droned on into silence. Is it because of my vision that her presence does this to me? Or is it her power over me? came the concerned thought. And do I have the same power over her?

Eyes downcast, Kathleen knelt down beside the man in the yellow shirt and handed the skin to him. As he took it, she risked a glance at his face. He is handsome, the idle thought passed. When she was relieved of her package, she prepared to rise and return to the woman waiting for her.

Taking the liver of tatanka ska, the young warrior found the irony of its delivery amusing. It is only fitting Ketlin be the one to give it to me. But, when the blonde tried to rise, she reached out and grabbed the woman's wrist, forcing her to remain kneeling just behind her and to one side.

The firm hand on her wrist startled her and Kathleen flinched a little. She swallowed the sudden burst of fear in her heart and remained where she was. Is he displeased? she worried. When the man pulled a knife out of a pouch hanging from his neck, she trembled.

Around the pair, the stories had halted, all intent on what was unfolding before them. The wikoskalaka released the pale woman's wrist and brought her attention to the liver of the tatanka ska in her lap. With great care, she sliced off a bit of the organ and turned back to the pale woman.

Kathleen heard her name and peered fearfully up into kind brown eyes. He's not displeased, then, she thought with such a great sense of relief that she was happy to be on her knees and not standing. T'wouldn't do ye good ta faint, lass. Instead, he held a piece of the liver towards her lips, indicating she should eat it. Her stomach roiled a bit at the thought of the raw meat on her tongue coupled with the tension of the morning.

"Ketlin, you should share in the spirit of tatanka ska. It is because of him that you and I are together." Anpo watched the woman's skin go whiter with a vague sense of wonder. Soon she will be the color of tatanka ska himself!

The blonde swallowed her bile and forced herself to take the bit of meat. Even as her tongue cringed from it, the taste of the flesh surprised her. It's.... It's... rather good! she thought with amazement. Her stomach seemed to settle a bit and she finished her treat with a bit more relish.

The surprise in the blue eyes caused Anpo to grin a bit. As the white woman ate the meat, she turned back to the liver and sliced it up into small chunks. Taking one for herself, she handed the skin of meat to Mani beside her. "Let all of us enjoy the strength and spirit of tatanka ska."

Her generosity elicited a murmur of comment from the gathered men and boys. The skin was passed around until all had enjoyed a piece of liver from the sacred animal.

Hca touched Kathleen gently on the shoulder, having come up behind her. She smiled down at the fearful woman and beckoned her. "Come, Ketlin. It is time to clean up and prepare the feast."

The blonde woman nodded and rose. She followed the man's sister with a final glance back at the gathering. I wonder if he's always as gentle as this?

The camp had been set up along a river and it was here that Hca Wanahca led the stranger. Most of the women of the camp were already here, swimming and cleaning themselves and their clothing before beginning work on the night's meal and the skins. They chattered and laughed as they worked and played, enjoying the brief respite from their tasks.

Hca began removing her dress, using her hands to indicate that Kathleen was to do the same. Waniyetu Gi was already in the water, talking with her maske nearby.

Blushing, the blonde removed her bloody clothing and moccasins, mentally preparing for the onslaught of stares and comments and touches and pinches that usually happened during bathing time with these people. As expected, a hush grew over the group of women, all eyes studying her skin and hair and freckles with curious intensity. She flushed further in her embarrassment and stepped into the cold water.

The young woman with her heard the quiet and looked about with a frown. Seeing the other women's stares, she planted her hands on her bare hips and glared back at them. "Han, you!" she called out, garnering their attention. "Did your mothers raise you to be rude or is it something you learned as adults?" Hca demanded.

Several women blinked at her before realizing they were being chastised. Most had the decency to blush and look away. Others appeared affronted by Hca's direct and challenging manner, though they looked away, as well.

Satisfied, the young woman splashed into the water and approached the scared woman. "Do you know how to swim?" she asked, mimicking the motion with her arms. "To swim?"

Kathleen smiled a little and repeated the word. "To swim, yes!" She took a couple of strokes away and back. Her smile widened at the other woman's grin.

"Come, Ketlin!" Hca said. And she swam away towards the opposite shore.

Behind her, the blonde smiled at the invitation to play. She chased after Hca with a laugh. Maybe things will be better now, she dared to hope.

After bathing, Kathleen had found herself cleaning her dress alongside her new friend. She scraped the wet leather with a rock until most of the blood had been removed, her moccasins following suit. For the most part, the other women left her alone and it gave her time to think of the day's occurrences.

It wasn't that Hca and her mother were kinder to the blonde. The women she'd been living with before were just too busy in their day to day existence, what with two small children in the tent to increase the workload. Well, that and the old woman is a cantankerous one, Kathleen mused with a slight grin. Nearby, she could hear the old grandmother complaining about something to the younger.

The blonde hadn't seen any children with these two women. And the older one reminded her of her own mother. She wondered if Hca was married or not, and whether she'd had any children. I will miss that, Kathleen thought, catching a glimpse of the boy and girl she'd been living with as they frolicked in the water. It was nice ta have youngsters underfoot.

And then she was instructed by Hca to put the wet leather on and come along. Kathleen shivered in the breeze and wished she had different clothing to wear. She was led through the camp and to a tent. As the young woman with her held the leather aside and waved her in, she thought, My new home. The blonde ducked inside.

It looked pretty much the same as the last tent she'd lived in. A firepit in the center, robes stewn about for sleeping and sitting, various bundles here and there around the edge holding a multitude of incomprehensible items. As Kathleen remained standing just to one side of the doorway, Hca climbed in and passed her.

Waniyetu Gi also entered, tying her hair back in a knot. She noticed the pale woman shivering. "Cunksi, get Ketlin something dry to wear. Her skin is thin and she is cold." The older woman guided the blonde further into the ti ikceya by an elbow.

"Ohan, ina." The wikoskalaka rummaged among her things and found what she was looking for. With a smile, she turned to her charge and held up another dress. "You will wear this, Ketlin," she said. When the blonde made no move to take it, Hca pushed it closer. "It is yours. I made it for the woman of my mitankala's vision."

The dress was of buckskin and long. It was painted yellow, like Anpo's shirt. Running from shoulder to hem were two strips of white with designs painted red on them - the lightning bolt, the buffalo and the sun.

Hesitantly, Kathleen took the offering. "Thank you, Hca," she said, though she knew the woman wouldn't understand her. "It's beautiful." She looked down to her own dress, formless and without adornment. Unbidden, tears came to her eyes.

The smile on her face faded as she saw the wetness trailing from the blonde's eyes. Hca frowned in concern and stepped forward. "I did not wish to hurt you, Ketlin," she said, taking the woman by the shoulders.

With an experienced eye, Waniyetu Gi looked the new arrival over. "I do not think she has been hurt by you, cunksi," she decided. "I have spoken with my maske and Yatke's woman about this her. She was hurt very much by the people who had her before."

Kathleen tried to hold back the tears as the women conversed about her. She angrily swiped one away. Now is not the time, Kath! she thought, fighting her emotions. But all was for naught when an understanding look crossed Hca's face and the blonde found herself being pulled into an embrace.

The kindness seemed to open a floodgate and all the pain and fear and worry of the past few weeks seemed to wash over her. Kathleen began sobbing, her body shaking from the force of her cries. Slowly, she was lowered down until she and Hca were seated on some furs. The woman was rocking her and singing softly as the crying continued.

Eventually, the tears subsided. Kath, yer an idiot, she thought as she pulled sheepishly away from Hca. As she hiccoughed like a small child, Waniyetu Gi knelt beside them and wiped her face with a piece of soft leather. Kathleen blushed at the treatment, feeling as if she was three years old. But ye do feel better, lass, she had to admit.

Kathleen allowed herself to be undressed. The wet leather of the previous outfit no longer against her skin, she could feel herself warm up almost immediately. There was a final shiver as she slipped the new dress over her head and smoothed it down. She noticed that the other women were doing the same, each avoiding watching each other. The blonde averted her gaze, as well, giving the others as much privacy as was available in a tent of this size.

Once she was finished, Hca tied a belt about her waist and looked to the white woman. She beckoned the stranger forward to stand in front of her. With a smile, the dark woman produced a yellow belt to go with the dress. She tied it about Kathleen, drawing the formless clothing in at the waist. With a satisfied smile, she stepped back to regard her handiwork. "Ina, what do you think?"

Waniyetu Gi cocked her head to one side. "You are good with the paints, cunksi. And you did well with the size of the taha cuwignaka."

'Ina.' Does that mean 'mother'? That wasn't the word the other woman used for the older one. She worried the question, wanting answers but not able to get her inquiry across to the pair that stood regarding her.

"Come, Ketlin, cunksi," Waniyetu Gi said. "We must work on the hides and the meat before things go bad." The older woman moved to the tiopa and stepped out of the lodge.

Taking Kathleen by the hand, the dark woman led her charge in the same direction. "I will teach you how to tan the skins that my mitankala has killed for you, Ketlin."

Feeling a little more grounded from her bout of emotion, the blonde followed along, a sense of gentle wistfulness seeming to fill her. P'rhaps things'll be better now.

The feast was a happy affair and Kathleen found the music and dancing fascinating. Previous times since her initial capture she was either kept in the tent or left to her own devices in some out of the way area with the children. The fear and depression had kept her meek and wanting to hide from prying eyes. Now, however, it was her duty to serve Anpo and places to hide were rare.

He must not have any other wives, she considered. While with Hehaka Yatke, the blonde was rarely called upon to serve him food - the mother of his children did that chore. And since I was the second... wife....? I wasn't needed ta feed him. From what Kathleen could gather, Hca was Anpo's sister and Gi was his mother. She hadn't seen who his father was, yet, as Anpo seemed to take after his mother.

The afternoon had been quite educational. Hca had been a fine instructor, not only of how to take care of the skins and meat, but the words involved with each item. By the time the meal had been ready, Kathleen was able to name everything properly. She had received a laugh and a hug from the dark young woman in reward and had grinned foolishly for some time after.

When the blonde had prepared the first serving of food, Hca had helped by adding extra of the things she knew her sister enjoyed and frowning with a shake of her head for those that Anpo did not. With attention to detail, Kathleen had understood what she was being told and refrained from giving the warrior anything not on the list of favorables.

As the night drifted on, the children were settled into their ti ikceyas. Soon the elders followed suit, leaving the fire and reveling to the younger crowd. Songs were sung, dances danced and music played. Kathleen was happy to note that there were, indeed, a set of pipes being played and wondered if she'd be allowed to play them herself. The food was eaten until there was nothing left.

Anpo felt full, not just in a physical sense, but spiritual and emotional as well. Her spirits, while naturally light, seemed higher than ever as she joked and teased and sang and danced with her family and friends. And always, her eyes fell on the pale woman, watching the firelight flicker through her yellow hair.

The cuwignaka that Kathleen wore was very interesting. The designs painted on it were identical to the ones on her own shirt. The one that my cuwekala gave me. When the wikoskalaka got up to dance, Anpo watched with interest as her sister tried to entice the pale woman. It took a moment before she understood what was being asked and, when the blue eyes became panicked, the warrior had intercepted them and shook her head.

Now the elders and children were sleeping and the crowd around the fire had thinned considerably. Quite a few of the young men and women had also gone to their sleeping furs. Anpo turned to look at the blonde and found her eyes drifting closed.

With a fond smile, Anpo reached out and touched the woman's shoulder, rousing her. "Come, Ketlin," she said, rising to her feet and helping her woman do the same. "It is time for sleep. You are tired."

Kathleen had started when the warm hand had touched her shoulder. It had been an exhausting day, what with the butchering and the emotional turmoil she'd been through. She heard Anpo speak and understood they were leaving as he rose. He helped her to her feet and, while he made some comments to the remaining people, began walking towards the tent he stayed in.

As they drifted further into the darkness, the blonde's fears began to grow again. Ye know he'll want ta bed ye, Kath. Ye can't do ta him what ye did ta the other. He'll give ye away, sure as rain! By the time they had stepped into the tent, her heart was pounding and she was having difficulty breathing, the panic attack building in intensity. I don't know if I can do it!

Taking the pale woman by the hand, Anpo directed her to her sleeping robes. There were just enough coals in the firepit to light their way. Hca and her parents were already in their own robes and sleeping nearby. The warrior settled Kathleen on her robes and stepped to the firepit to stir up a bit of flame.

The orange of the fire backlit the warrior's muscular frame and Kathleen swallowed anxiously. When the man returned to the furs and sat facing her, she dropped her gaze and chewed her lower lip. Oh, God! Here 'tis! She felt hands on her shoulders as the man turned her in her place to face him. Now they were seated with the fire to her right and his left. He wants ta see what he's got, Kathleen's mind blithered.

Anpo could see the blonde trembling with fear and she knew the reason. Her ina had told her of the woman's treatment, having spoken with both her maske and Yatke's woman. She shakes like a young bird just out of the nest. A look of concern crossed her face. Ketlin thinks I will hurt her like the others did.

But the desire to touch the white woman, this enigma from a vision, was so strong, that Anpo could not deny it. I must do something to ease her heart. Swiftly, fluidly, she rose to her feet and removed her clothing.

The suddenness of Anpo's movement startled the woman and she flinched back despite her best efforts. Kathleen held her stomach and shivered as the yellow shirt fell to one side, followed by the breechclout and belt and moccasins. Dark skinned hands reached down and took her own. It was a bit of a struggle as a part of her wanted to keep hold of herself.

Feeling the tenseness in the woman's limbs, the warrior pulled firmly until Kathleen reluctantly let her arms stretch out. She is so sad and scared. Anpo helped the blonde stand before her.

Kathleen kept her eyes averted, her head turned towards the fire. She could feel the tears already beginning to course down her cheeks, but she refused to sob out loud. Her new friend, Hca, was sleeping nearby and the blonde didn't want to wake her.

"Ketlin. Look at me." When the woman remained staring into the flames, Anpo reached out and guided her chin around. Again, there was resistance and the warrior watched the tendons in the long neck jump as they strained.

Trying to keep her eyes away from the man before her, Kathleen stared over his head. She saw motion in front of her face, two fingers pointing into her eyes, that drew her attention despite her best efforts.

Anpo pointed into the woman's eyes and then her own. "Look at me, Ketlin."

Their eyes met and locked. Just as it had been earlier on the killing field, Kathleen's fears seemed to drain away. Her mind was babbling that she was going to be raped again, but for some reason it wasn't sinking in. And then Anpo's hand was gesturing, bringing her eyes downwards.

Still holding one of the woman's hands, the warrior felt in clutch in a spasm of surprise. Kathleen weaved in her shock and would have fallen had Anpo not caught her, lowering her gently back down.

He's a... a... woman! The vision of breasts and a barren patch of dark curly hair played itself over and over in Kathleen's mind. A woman!?

Anpo smiled into the wide blue eyes that stared at her in amazement. Again, she gestured down her body, drawing the woman's gaze. "See, Ketlin? I am no different than you." She reached out and caressed the blonde's cheek. "I will not hurt you. I swear it."

The pale woman was at a loss. All her emotions had been preparing for another painful encounter. She felt as if she had climbed to the edge of a great chasm only to find herself on solid ground. Kathleen felt the hand brush her cheek and it brought her back to the present. Her mind whirled with confusion, but she tentatively returned the smile that was bestowed on her.

Encouraged by the smile, Anpo's widened. She let her attention roam from the deep blue eyes to the yellow hair. Leaning forward, she reached behind Kathleen and unbound her hair. The color of it sparkled in the firelight and the warrior's mouth opened a bit as she studied it with awe, taking a few strands between her fingers and admiring the contrast against her skin. It is the same as my vision. The Sun has graced Ketlin. This, naturally, lead her to follow the line of the woman's neck to where it disappeared into her dress.

Still a bit dazed at the revelation, Kathleen sat still when the warrior leaned forward, arms on either side of her head to reach the tie that held her hair back. She could smell the distinctive odor of Anpo, a mixture of herbal aromas and woodsmoke, deciding she liked it. She's curious, the woman thought when the dark woman leaned back and studied a handful of her hair. Just like all the others have been. Kathleen watched the dark eyes study her face and neck and then seem to flash irritation at the collar of the buckskin dress she was wearing. But, rather than have her remove the dress, Anpo moved on to the exposed areas of her skin.

If the white woman understood things, she belonged to Anpo just as she'd belonged to the previous two men she'd lived with, the first as a captive and the second as a slave. Even if she is a girl. And that thought brought up another. She is a girl! Though she's not much younger than me! Well, no wonder she's curious, Kath!

Despite the frustration of the clothing that Kathleen wore, the warrior continued her inspection around it. She reached for the woman's hand and pulled the pale arm out. Leaning close, Anpo peered at the fine almost white hairs that sparkled in the light. Her breath caused them to tremble and move. Even her skin has yellow hair!

Kathleen found herself grinning at the wonder evident on the younger woman's face. Well, lass, ye don't have ta worry about rape, then. But ye do still have ta worry about displeasing her. This sobered her a bit as she considered her options. Making a decision that her mother would have cringed from, she sat up a bit straighter and pulled her arm from Anpo's grasp.

When Kathleen removed her arm, it broke the spell that the warrior had been under. She looked up blankly as the woman rose to stand in front of her. A puzzled look crossed her face as the blonde smiled at her. And then her eyebrows rose to their zenith when Kathleen removed her dress and settled back down on the robes.

The dress was folded neatly and set to one side before the white woman risked a glance at Anpo. The look of stark amazement and wonder caused her to chuckle a bit in her nervousness. Kathleen flushed as she felt the dark gaze flicker across her nude body. Aye, if mum saw ye now, lass....

She is.... She is... beautiful! Anpo leaned forward and peered at the newly revealed flesh. Unbidden, her hand reached out to touch the skin but she stopped it. She looked up at the woman, question in her eyes.

Touched by the request, Kathleen smiled and nodded, taking the hand in her own and guiding it to her heart. Her smile widened at the look of gratitude the warrior woman sent her before returning to her inspection. Warm hands and fingers touched her, felt her, combed through the sparse blonde hairs between her legs. I don't b'lieve this, the pale woman thought as she felt a low burn at her center. She's a girl!

Anpo was impressed by the soft skin, the tiny hairs that were all over the woman's body, the crinkly curls between her legs that were just slightly darker than the hair on her head. She enjoyed the contrast of her dark hand against Kathleen's, more so on her belly where it was whiter than on the arms. And, by feeling the pale woman, Kathleen became more real, more than the vision that had driven the warrior for all these years.

Finally finished with her examination, Anpo sighed and straightened. She is more relaxed now, she thought as she studied the woman across from her. She knows I will not hurt her as she has been hurt before. With a final smile, the warrior readjusted herself on the robes, covering herself and gesturing for her woman to lie with her. "Ketlin. It is time to sleep."

Realizing that nothing further was going to happen this night and, not even sure what could happen between two women, Kathleen gratefully climbed into the sleeping robes with the young warrior. Well, lass, ye've been feelin' all day that ye came home. They settled comfortably together as the flickering flames faded. "Good night, Anpo," she murmured. "Thank you." Will this be home now?

Hearing the strange lilt of her woman's voice, the dark woman smiled. She hugged Kathleen closer, enjoying for the first time the sensation of skin against skin. "Be safe, Ketlin. Know that I am here to protect you."

The pair drifted off to sleep.

hiya - hee-yah

negative, no

Chapter 5

Wounspe Ki
(woh-oons-peh kee)

The Teaching

1777

Anpo slowly drifted to wakefulness, a peaceful dream tickling the edges of her mind. There was a strange and comfortable weight on her body that wriggled in an extremely pleasing manner when she inhaled deeply and stretched a bit. The warrior's brow furrowed as she tried to remember what had happened. Tatanka ska! Ketlin!

Dark brown eyes popped open. Anpo peered down her body, her heart fluttering.

Golden hair spilled out from and across the sleeping robes. Kathleen was draped across the warrior's torso, using her as a pillow. Her pale hand resting gently on Anpo's shoulder, her face peaceful in repose.

She is not a dream, Anpo thought, a gentle look on her face as she studied the woman. She is real. And she is mine! The warrior squeezed, hugging the blonde closer.

Kathleen murmured something in her language and readjusted herself, draping a leg over the dark woman's thigh.

Her heart full, Anpo's face retained its tenderness. She used her free hand to caress the yellow tresses, fingering their softness and enjoying the sensation of her skin against another's. Is this what my ina and ate feel when they sleep together? This caring? she wondered. Peering up to the logs at the center of the ti ikceya, Anpo prayed to wakan tanka. Please help me be worthy of this gift, this woman.

Inhaling deeply, Kathleen woke. For a change, she wasn't groggy or startled, having slept comfortably through the night for the first time since her initial capture. She could hear movement nearby, noises outside that indicated others were awake. Drifting along in that in-between stage of sleep and wakefulness, she snuggled closer against the warm body. I suppose I should get up and get Adam breakfast.

Deep blue eyes shot open. Adam's dead!

Anpo felt the woman stiffen in her arms and stopped caressing her, allowing the blonde to pull away a bit.

Suppressing the fear, Kathleen peered down at the warrior. As they stared at each other for long moments, she realized she was naked under the furs and recalled the previous evening. Her skin flushed scarlet. Ah, Kath! Ye acted the harlot with her! And she's just a girl! The blonde chewed her lower lip in consternation. But ye didn't do anything, lass! What's there ta do?

"Ketlin."

The voice was soft and low and Kathleen could hear why she'd mistaken it for a man's tenor. She focused on the dark eyes and seemed to lose herself within.

"I would drown in your eyes, Ketlin," Anpo said, knowing there would be no comprehension. Reaching up, she brushed the back of her knuckles along the woman's cheek and smiled. "You are very beautiful, winuhca. I am glad you have come into my life and I will work hard to be worthy of you."

The gentle words washed over her and though Kathleen understood not a one, the warrior's face told a story of gratitude and caring and happiness. The blonde reached out her own hand in a tentative mirrored action, lightly running her knuckles across the soft skin. "I don't know what yer sayin', Anpo, but I think I understand." Her mouth twisted in a slight grin. "I want ta thank ye and yer family for treatin' me so well. I hope yer patience will be rewarded."

Smile widening as she listened to the strange accent tickle her ears, the warrior sat up a bit and gathered Kathleen into her arms. They embraced for just a moment before Anpo reluctantly pulled away. Is this why newly joined couples cannot stay away from one another? This pleasure of touch and speech? Does Ketlin feel the same way?

Kathleen accepted the hug and, surprisingly, enjoyed it. It had been so long since she'd had physical contact with another human being that wasn't negative. Even Adam wasn't much for hugs and such, she thought as Anpo pulled away from her. Aside from our... intimate moments, anyway. And even then, she had to admit, it only lasted until he was finished. The blonde glanced around their sleeping area and located the warrior's clothing, pulling it closer and helping her get dressed.

Accepting the aide, Anpo was soon clothed. She then helped her woman with the cuwignaka. Afterwards, she gestured for Kathleen to follow and led her out of the ti ikceya. The taller woman gestured at the dark firepit and the waiting pile of wood that had been gathered the day before. "Winuhca, prepare the fire."

The blonde looked down at the cold firepit. "You want me to start a fire?" she asked, intently looking at the warrior.

Anpo nodded and slowly repeated herself. "Prepare a fire."

Puffing out a breath, Kathleen looked about at the ashes and the wood stacked neatly nearby. Under her breath, she murmured the strange words that Anpo had said, "Prepare a fire." With a nod, she hiked up her dress a bit and knelt down at the edge of the firepit. "Well, Kath, t'isn't like ye've never done that before."

The warrior watched her begin her work of scattering the last evening's ashes and stacking the new wood, a smile on her dark face. She is smart, my Ketlin. She picked up a stick and went to the council fire that was still smoldering. With a bit of blowing on the coals, Anpo was able to light it and return.

Kathleen dusted off her hands and sat back on her heels. She saw her warrior coming towards her with the burning stick. "Oh, good," she commented. "I wouldn't know how ta start a flame without flint and steel and I doubt ye've got any." Haven't seen any steel, the blonde mused. She watched the native light the pile of kindling and bring it to life, blue eyes focusing on Anpo's profile. A thought repeated itself from the day before. She is handsome.

Once the fire was up and crackling, Anpo looked about the hearth. Ah, there it is! She found their breakfast, some dried meat and leftover wansi from yesterday's feast. The warrior scooped up the food and a half empty skin of water. Settling down at her seat, she waved the blonde closer and patted the robe beside her. "Come sit down, Ketlin."

But, I'm supposed to serve her, aren't I? Slightly puzzled, the smaller woman sat beside the warrior. Portions of the makeshift breakfast were doled out and the pair ate in silence.

Watching her woman eat, Anpo mused about their future. Things are destined to be difficult. But she will still care deeply for me. Taking a draught from the waterskin, she offered it to Kathleen who took it with a smile of thanks. Maybe Inyan was true in his thought. I will only hurt her as one hurts another when joined. Like my ate and ina. Here, a certain wistfulness filled her heart. I hope that is so.

Around them, the camp was brought to wakefulness. Others were out and about - winyan preparing breakfast for their families, younger children eating and planning for their day, older children getting ready to relieve the koskalaka guarding the herd of ponies. People were sluggish, however, from their late night of celebrating the hunt.

Kathleen finished off her meal. I suppose 'tis just as well Anpo got the breakfast. I don't know where anything is here.... The waterskin was light as she drank from it. Ye still need ta get started, lass. The sooner ye fit in, the sooner ye'll feel better. And she knew that keeping Anpo and her family pleased would mean she'd be able to stay.

When her woman rose, Anpo looked up in curiosity. What is she going to do? The blonde waved the waterskin at her and spoke in her musical language. Dark eyes furrowed and the warrior shook her head. Kathleen spoke again, this time gesturing in the direction of the river. "You will go get water?"

Again the woman spoke. "If yer sayin' I'll get some more water, then yes," Kathleen answered, slightly amused. "I swear, I've got ta learn yer language, lass."

Anpo considered the woman's demeanor and decided she was right. She did a quick mental scan of the area, deciding it would be safe for Kathleen to go to the river without harm. I do not know how much she knows, how well she can take care of herself. With a nod of permission, she waved the blonde towards the direction of the river.

Smiling and feeling strangely bold and comfortable, Kathleen paused only long enough to caress her warrior's shoulder before moving away from the fire. Her heart was light, lighter than it had been in some time, as she walked. Calm down, lass! These folks'll never understand if ye start skippin'! The thought brought a giggle to her lips.

The blonde reached the embankment and scrambled down it, stopping at the area she and the other women had bathed in the day before. She took a few moments to splash her arms and face, freshening up before moving a bit further upstream and filling the waterskin. The water was crisp and cool on her skin.

Nearby, a few others had the same idea. Most of them were older children who had decided to have a morning swim. Ah, not a chance of that! The water's a mite too chilly, and that's a fact! Kathleen thought with a shake of her head. Once the skin was full, the blonde inhaled deeply and sat on a large rock to watch the children cavorting around.

Alone, Kathleen was able to think on her new situation. She felt so much lighter today than yesterday. It was strange and it worried her mind, though not necessarily in a bad way. P'rhaps 'tis because of Anpo, she considered. She's a woman and not likely ta want me in that way. There's no.... and here she frowned as she tried to come up with the right word. There's no pressure. No need fer me ta submit like there was with the other men and Adam.

It also helps that Hca and Gi are so kind. Her scowl faded as her mouth quirked a bit. Hca is so nice and gentle! I think she's about my age, too. Kathleen pursed her lips in thought. Maybe that's why I like her so. She's of an age with me.

Some of the women had begun drifting towards the river and the blonde caught sight of the pair she'd been living with prior to Anpo. The boy and girl had accompanied them and splashed joyfully in the water while their mother and grandmother cleaned up and filled waterskins. Very recent memories of her time with them invaded her pleasant thoughts. Feelings of depression, fear and uncertainty whisked about her mind and she stomped them down with a purpose. Now! None o' that, lass! Yer in a better place this mornin'. Make the best of it!

With that, Kathleen set her jaw with determination and rose to her feet. "Well, lass. Time to get a move on." And she clambered back up the embankment and headed for the tent that held Anpo and her future.

The others of the household had awakened by the time of her arrival. The blonde received a welcome smile from her new friend, Hca Wanahca, which she returned brightly, handing the waterskin to her.

"Thank you, Ketlin," the dark woman said. She gestured her new stepan closer. "Come. You and I will help ina prepare the morning meal for ate."

Soon, Kathleen found herself seated near her warrior, a bowl in her lap. She was mixing together dried meat, berries and a measure of animal fat. wansi, she thought to herself. This is called wansi. Hca was mixing a dough with cornmeal and her mother, Gi, was using a hot rock to cook it on.

There was an older man at the fire. Anpo's father. He was tall, like his daughter, and carried himself with pride. He wore only a breechclout and moccasins, though there was a choker of what appeared to be animal teeth around his neck. There were old scars on his shoulders and chest, and Kathleen wondered idly where he'd received them. They look too well placed to be simple injuries. His voice was deep as he spoke with Anpo, studiously ignoring the white woman at his fire.

"You have done well for yourself, cunksi," Wanbli Zi said. "When you were born, Inyan had a vision of you. You have gone farther than his vision. I am very proud."

Anpo's skin darkened but she kept her father's gaze. "Thank you, ate. It was your patience and teaching that aided me."

He nodded, accepting her compliment. His woman handed him a piece of frybread, still hot from the rock. With a practiced hand, he scooped some leftover roasted meat into it and rolled it up. "Now that you have a woman, what will you do?"

"I do not know. I have no dowry of my own as I had not planned to be joined." The young warrior accepted some frybread from her ina, using some of the berries that Kathleen was stirring into the wansi mixture. She munched thoughtfully. "Ketlin will have to begin working on a ti ikceya from the skins I bring her. She will be a buried woman until her lodge is complete."

Waniyetu Gi spoke up. "There is no need, cunksi." There was a secretive smile that she shared with her elder daughter. "Your cuwe and I have been working on your dowry from the skins you have brought me."

Anpo stared at her mother blankly, her food half chewed.

"Mitankala!" her sister spoke up with a laugh. "You cannot live in ina's lodge forever!"

Blushing, the younger daughter chewed and swallowed her mouthful. "I.... I did not think to, but...." and she shrugged with a vague sense of confusion.

Gi continued on despite the interruption from her children. "I will give your dowry to Ketlin since she is to be your woman. It will be her ti ikceya." She finished another piece of bread which she handed to her man. "Her skins from the last hunt will finish it. She will have her own lodge by the time we reach summer camp." The older woman looked up from her task to smile at her youngest daughter. "Close your mouth, cunksi, before I think to throw your food into it."

The young warrior's mouth snapped shut and she sputtered in happiness and surprise. "Thank you, ina! Thank you, cuwekala!"

A piece of frybread was handed to her. "You are welcome, cunksi. Now eat with no worries."

Wanbli Zi, who had been silent through the conversation, finally spoke up. "You will have to teach your woman manners, cunksi," he hinted, nodding in the white woman's general direction. "Before we reach summer camp."

Puzzled, Anpo turned to see her woman staring rudely at her father as she worked.

Kathleen had finished the mixture and was forming it into long rolls which were then placed onto a nearby skin. Her blue eyes followed the conversation, from one to another as the people around her spoke, trying to puzzle out the sounds by the facial expressions. But they always returned to the man. Ye know, I can see a bit o' Anpo in him, she mused as she worked. She heard her name spoken and looked to Gi. Well, Kath, they're definitely talkin' about ye. Doesn't look too bad, though, and that's a fact. And then the blonde looked back to the man as he spoke again.

With a suddenness that was frightening, Anpo blocked her view. Two fingers were pointed closely towards her eyes and then cut to the left in a sharp gesture. "Hiya! Do not look at ate, Ketlin!"

The blonde woman's heart seized up and she flinched backwards, raising her arms in a defensive posture. The easy comfort of the morning evaporated as Kathleen flashed back to the vicious beatings of a few weeks earlier. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!

As her woman cowered before her, Anpo's brow furrowed in confusion. Does she think I will hurt her? Hit her? A feeling of guilt came over the warrior. Does Ketlin know that I am destined to hurt her? Wordlessly, she looked to her mother, a myriad of emotions crossing her tanned face - puzzlement, fear, irritation and the ever-present shame of her future actions.

"Go slowly with Ketlin, cunksi," Waniyetu Gi said softly. "She has been hurt so badly."

"She believes I will hurt her," Anpo stated, dropping her gaze. "And my vision says this is true."

"Hiya, cunksi. I have seen this before in women who have been hurt by their men. Ketlin does not see you. She sees the man who hurt her. She is only afraid of his actions being repeated."

The young warrior knelt down by the blonde. Kathleen appeared to be trying to disappear into the ground and wasn't looking at anyone. Anpo reached up to touch her woman's temple but the motion was seen out of the corner of one blue eye and Kathleen tightened up and shrank away further. "But, how do I teach her? She cannot understand my words and I cannot understand hers." Frustration filled Anpo's heart.

Hca, who had been watching with heartfelt eyes, spoke up. "Use our sign language, mitankala. She does not understand the words, but the signs make the meanings clearer." Her sister's haunting eyes looked at her and she nodded. "I used signs yesterday and Ketlin was able to understand what she could see."

Anpo's dark eyes returned to her woman.

The pounding of her heart had lessened, but Kathleen still awaited a beating. For what, she didn't know. The blonde just knew that the warrior was displeased with her, something about looking at the man. The tension in her body increased as the blows did not come, and Kathleen began to murmur under her breath. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I swear it." Maybe ye won't get a beatin', lass, she dared to hope. Over and around her the women spoke. And then Anpo was settling down to sit in front of her, speaking to her. The warm voice was not angry. Instead, it soothed her jangling nerves as it continued.

"Ketlin. Look at me, winuhca. You are safe here. I will not hurt you."

Hca stepped forward with slow movements and took the bowl of wansi and the skin that Kathleen had been using. She smiled at her mitan and returned to the other side of the fire. The rest of Anpo's family quietly discussed their day, ignoring the proceedings so close by.

The young warrior scooted closer and reached out a calming hand. Resting it on a trembling shoulder, Anpo caressed with a smoothing motion. "Look at me, winuhca."

Kathleen shivered at the touch. The words spoken to her sounded vaguely familiar and she distracted herself by worrying them, looking for the memory. Last night, in the tent. When I thought she was a man and wouldn't look at her. A flash of memory, two fingers pointed at her eyes and then at Anpo's own. Look at me! Anpo's tellin' me ta look at her!

Dark blue eyes, glassy with unshed tears, flickered to the warrior seated before her. As Kathleen's eyes met Anpo's, the world seemed to drain away, carrying her fears with it. Will it always be this way? she mused with a vague sense of wonder. Her eyes, will they always distract me so?

Anpo smiled at her woman, trying to convey a sense of safety and ease. It seemed to work, as the blonde's face relaxed its fearfulness. The warrior kept one hand on Kathleen's shoulder, not wanting to lose contact. With her other, she used the two fingers pointing into dark blue eyes to accent her language. "Ketlin, look at me," and the fingers pointed at her own eyes.

"Look at me," Kathleen repeated, her brow furrowing in concentration. Her shivering eased as the warrior's smile brightened.

"Ohan, Ketlin! Look at me. It is good to look at me." Using the same finger to eye motion, Anpo pointed at her sister. "Look at Hca. It is good. She is your stepan and a woman."

Again, the blonde repeated the words. Lookin' at Hca is alright, then. Why? She listened and watched intently as her warrior used the same speech and sign to point at the older woman. And Gi is safe too.

Anpo's face became serious and she shook her head. "Do not look at Wanbli, Ketlin," she said, using the same motion of her hand pointed at her father. "He is your tunkasi. You must not speak to him or look at him."

Kathleen frowned as she puzzled this bit of information out. I am not ta look at... Wanbli? His name is Wanbli and I'm not ta look at him. Her dark blue eyes flickered to the two other women at the fire, seeing the man out of the corner of her eye as he ate. But why? Because he's a man? That doesn't sound right. I looked at the other man all the time and the women didn't get mad.... The blonde brought her attention back to the woman in front of her. "I don't understand why I'm not ta look at Wanbli, but I won't. I swear it."

eeing and hearing the confusion, Anpo chewed her lower lip in thought. "I cannot think of a way to tell you, winuhca," she finally said with a chagrined look on her face. "He is your tunkasi and you are not to be close to him. It dishonors me if you are close to him. I would not be close to your ate for the same reason; he would be my tunkasi."

"Perhaps it is good enough that she knows not to do it," Gi spoke up. "She will learn the why of it as she learns our words."

Reluctantly, the young warrior nodded. "You speak truly, ina." Anpo reached out a hand and caressed the blonde's cheek. "I will not hurt you, Ketlin. Please believe it," she whispered.

Kathleen's heart went out to the young woman's, responding to the worried look she was given. She smiled and cupped Anpo's hand in her own. "I'm all right, Anpo. I'll try not ta be so scared of ye."

They searched each others' eyes for a few moments before Hca interrupted, handing a piece of frybread to the blonde woman. "Ketlin needs to keep her strength if you are to stare at her from dawn to dusk," she teased her sister.

Anpo rolled her eyes and pulled away. "Then I should feed you more, as well, when Nupa is here for meals." Satisfied that her mark had hit home, the warrior settled back down at her place and scooped up her discarded meal.

Accepting the bread with a smile, Kathleen was careful to not look at Wanbli. Is it just because he's a man? Or because he's Anpo's father? she wondered. That must be the reason - he's her father. The blonde nibbled at the bread as she thought, her eyes staring into the fire. She considered the other times that these people didn't look at each other - inside the tents, at the river when there was bathing. The fact that the man wasn't looking at her, either, accented the point. P'rhaps it's as much that I belong to Anpo?

Unable to understand the cultural differences, Kathleen vowed to keep her eyes open and watch other families, as well. Ye'll figure it out, lass. Yer mum and da always said ye were too smart for yer own good.

The two camps remained together for the better part of a week as they waited for the meat to dry and the skins to cure. Soon the day came that Wicasa Waziya Mani and his people collected their belongings and wandered away. Several natives gathered at the council ti ikceya, wishing the chief and his elders well in their travels. And then the people were on the move, slowly meandering towards the west and the future summer camp where they would meet again.

Kathleen watched them go with a mixture of sadness and joy. I'll miss the children, she thought. She'd even seen the little girl on the back of a horse with her mother and received a wave and a smile. At least I don't have ta worry about Anpo givin' me back to him, though. Pause. Well, lass, it's not like ye've done anything wrong really. The blonde turned to the tent that was under construction nearby. The ti ikceya.

The last few days had been almost idyllic in comparison with the rest of her time with the native peoples. Aside from the occasional misunderstanding due to their differences, things had gone quite well. Her days were full of learning their language and ways, what a woman's duty was and how to go about it. Pretty much no different than home. Her nights were quiet and caring as she cuddled with her warrior and enjoyed peaceful sleep.

"Han, Hca!" Kathleen called as she neared the bare poles that would be her lodge. She smiled at her stepan who looked up from her task of sewing skins and waved at her.

"Han, Ketlin! Come and help finish your ti ikceya." The dark woman scooted to one side to allow room for her sister-in-law to sit, handing her the bone awl and sinew. "This is the last piece. We are almost finished."

"And it will be as big as Gi's lodge?" the blonde asked as she aligned the two pieces of leather and bored a hole through them.

"Ohan, maybe bigger but not by much." Hca watched her pull the sinew through the new opening. "Do not pull it too tight or it will bunch up."

Kathleen nodded, smoothing the skins together. The dark woman began poking another hole. They worked in silence for a bit as the camp returned to its natural rhythm. The white woman could see her warrior and Wanbli at the council fire. Anpo's friend, Nupa, was with them.

Glancing sidelong at Hca, Kathleen spoke. "Is summer camp big?"

The young woman nodded though she did not look up from her task. "Ohan. Our people have seven council fires and we are but a small camp of one of them." Excited eyes glanced up at Kathleen. "There will be feasting and dancing and games! There will be a Sun Dance and ceremonies! It will be fun, Ketlin!"

The blonde smiled at Hca's enthusiasm. "Many handsome koskalaka?" she asked.

"Ohan! Many of those!" The dark woman gave a delighted laugh and glanced over at the council fire. "Many of those," she repeated.

"He likes you."

Hca's eyes widened. "I did not think you noticed." She shyly looked back to her task.

Laughing, Kathleen stopped her hands with her own. "Who could not? He is always at Wanbli's fire, his eyes all big and round and...." She waved impatiently and spoke a few words in her own language.

"I do not understand, Ketlin," Hca said with vague sadness. "But you have learned our words well."

"Wait." The blonde rose and pulled a stick from the fire. She drew a picture on the ground. "What is that?"

Hca frowned at the crude drawing. "An animal. But I do not know what kind."

"It has a white belly and a white tail." Kathleen tapped her foot in slight irritation. "I know! Our cuwignaka are made of its skin!" She held up a fistful of the leather dress.

"Oh! A nigesanla!" Hca thought back over the conversation.

"Is that what it is called?" the blonde asked. "Nigesanla." As she committed the new word to memory, Hca's sudden laughter interrupted her.

"You are saying that Nupa looks like nigesanla when he looks at me!?" The dark woman rolled on the ground, hooting, and her friend could only join her.

The two women giggled happily, garnering strange looks from others passing nearby.

Nupa glanced over at the pair as they laughed musically. Nudging his friend with a shoulder he pointed his chin at them and asked, "What do you think they are laughing about, tanksi?"

The dark woman peered past him, her mouth curling at the joy she saw in Kathleen. She is so beautiful. "You, tiblo."

"Me!?" The warrior stiffened and looked back and forth between his friend and the women. "Why do you say me?"

Anpo scooped up a twig, its end glowing red, and lit her pipe. "Look at my cuwe. She turns red when she looks at you and laughs the harder." She puffed the tobacco, bringing the smoke up and over her head with her free hand.

Studying the women with pursed lips, Nupa saw Hca do just that. He debated with himself for a moment before relaxing into a grin and accepting the pipe offered him. "She likes me." He repeated his friend's actions.

They quietly sat with the elders and listened to them speak of things, of hunting, of wars past, of times when they were young koskalaka.

"What is it like to have your own woman?" Nupa finally asked.

Anpo shrugged, her gaze flickering to the blonde as it always did. "It is... different." She puffed on the pipe as she reflected. "I feel lighter and heavier now. I am happy yet have more responsibility in my life. I have to look to the future and make decisions with someone else in my heart."

Her best friend nodded. "I have missed your presence with the herd at night."

"And I have missed yours, tiblo."

A long silence ensued, the voices of the elders lulling the pair. Eventually, Nupa spoke again. "It is strange that you would have a woman before me. I had always thought I would be the first to be joined." His dark eyes were serious. "It is strange that you would have a woman at all."

"I know. I find it strange, as well," Anpo agreed. "But you and I know that no man would have me." She tapped the ashes into the fire. "And I know that I would have no man." The dark woman shrugged and bundled up her pipe to put away. "It is best this way."

Nupa watched his friend place the pipe into a pouch.

Kathleen awoke first. She lay in the comforting warmth of their sleeping robes, the gentle thumping of Anpo's heart filling her ear. Why did it never feel like this with Adam? the blonde mused. She splayed her hand out over the dark skin, seeing the contrast even in this murky interior.

Memories of her short marriage filled her mind. Mornings of making breakfast for a husband who was kind, if not loving. Days of doing chores and speaking out loud to herself because there was no one else to talk to. Nights of intimacies that, while not forced, weren't exactly invited. Kathleen couldn't recall a single time she'd awakened with Stevens as she did with this young woman. Anpo's... comfortable. Sweet. Safe, definitely safe.

Beneath her, the young warrior stretched and sighed, on the verge of wakefulness herself. The white woman used the movement to snuggle closer without disturbing Anpo's rest. She inhaled deeply of the woman's scent. I just can't seem ta get enough of her! she marveled.

Today was the big day. Today the ti ikceya would be finished. Today Kathleen would lead Anpo into her lodge and officially join with her. From what she could gather from Hca, the blonde was essentially offering marriage to her warrior. Married. Ta a woman. Kathleen burrowed further into the warmth of Anpo's body. Aye, lass, now there's a quandary for ye. If ye ever make it home, how're ye gonna explain a wife?

But one thing was certain - Kathleen was far happier with the prospect of marrying her young warrior woman than when she'd married her husband. Is this what I've been headin' for all my life? Is this what I've been feelin' was missin'?

Further thought was halted on the subject as the long arm wrapped around her shoulders tightened and a voice spoke her name. With a smile, the white woman peered up into the dark brown eyes of her warrior.

"Ketlin. Did you sleep well?"

"Ohan, Anpo. I did. And you?"

The dark woman grinned in return. "Very well, winuhca." She yawned and stretched before wrapping her arms around her woman and holding her close.

Kathleen squirmed a bit in discomfort. My bosom is tender. Must be near my monthly time. She resolved to quiz her friend on how the native women took care of the problem as soon as possible.

Once breakfast had been eaten, Wanbli and Anpo wandered off together with the idea of bringing in some fish from the river. They took provisions for the day and their spears. As soon as they had disappeared, the women began their preparations in earnest.

Kathleen found herself again in the shapeless dress she'd arrived in, her own beautiful one taken by Hca Wanahca to be cleaned. The older woman began a stew while the blonde ground a bone awl against a rock. Waniyetu Gi would occasionally stop her work to inspect the awl until it was sharp enough to pierce a piece of hide.

"Very good, Ketlin," the older woman smiled, setting the awl aside. "You work hard. You will take very good care of Anpo and honor me."

"Thank you." The blonde colored a bit at the compliment.

"Now, you and I will prepare your ti ikceya for tonight." She took Kathleen by the hand and helped her up. Gathering together some things, she handed them to the blonde saying, "These will become yours now."

Dark blue eyes blinked at the older woman. "Th.... Thank you, uncisi! You are so good to me!" Kathleen swallowed a lump developing in her throat.

A hand gently rested against a pale cheek. "You make my cunksi smile like the sun she is named after. I cannot do enough to show you my thanks."

What did I ever do ta deserve this!? And then the tender moment was gone and Gi was once again businesslike.

"Come, Ketlin. You and I will prepare your lodge for your joining."

Kathleen was led off, her arms full of robes, her heart happy.

Anpo hefted a leather satchel full of fish, pulling the strap over her head and across her broad shoulders. Her father carried another bag, this filled with the remainder of their leftover meal, and led the way back towards camp. The river had been teeming with trout and the pair had speared many.

"Ate?"

"Hau, cunksi."

"How long have you and ina been joined?"

There was a pause as Wanbli Zi considered the question. "We were joined a winter before our first child was born."

"I am sixteen winters. That would mean that you were joined..." and a dark brown furrowed in consideration. "You were joined twenty-three winters ago!"

The older man's face broke into a craggy smile at the incredulous tone of his youngest. "Hau, Anpo. That seems to be right."

The pair walked in silence for a while.

"Ate?"

"Hau, cunksi."

"Did you ever hurt ina? With your words or actions?"

"Hau, Anpo. It is impossible not to. It is like trying to hold back the water in the river with only your hands." Wanbli looked to his daughter, seeing her serious profile. "All people get hurt in life, cunksi. It is what makes us strong, teaches us to overcome our weaknesses. Do not let it worry you so."

Again there was silence.

"Did ina ever hurt you, ate?"

"Hau, cunksi. As I said, it is the way of life."

Dark eyes regarded him with concern and curiosity. "Then why have you not given her away? Why have you kept her? Why has she stayed with you?"

"Because my mahasanni ki and I care for each other, cunksi. And we are stronger together than we are apart."

Anpo sighed and nodded.

Wanbli settled a hand on his child's shoulder, walking closely beside her. "Be still in your heart, cunksi. Do not worry the vision so. It will not change and will only make you crazy with grief and fear." He nodded in front of them. "Look. We are almost to camp. You and I will bring our catch to our women and we will eat well this night!"

The young warrior forced herself to smile, picking up her step to keep up with Wanbli's.

"Anpo will be very surprised, Ketlin," Hca said as she finished braiding the long yellow hair.

"Why?" the blonde turned to one side as directed so the other half of her hair could be taken care of.

Waniyetu Gi, who had finished the last stitching on a pair of leggings, spoke up. "Because you were a gift and not a traditional maiden, Ketlin."

Kathleen was confused. "Someone like me would not join with a warrior?"

"Usually not until she learned our words." Gi looked up from her task, a twinkle in her eye. "But you have learned fast, Ketlin. And you have a dowry I have given you. And the most important thing you have done is make my youngest child happy."

Blushing slightly, the blonde looked down to her fidgeting hands in her lap. "I have done nothing, Gi. I do not deserve your dowry."

"Do not presume to tell me what to do with what is mine, Ketlin," the older woman chided, albeit in a gentle tone . "I know what is right." Looking to her oldest daughter, she said, "Go outside and tell me when Anpo and your ate return."

With a grin and a quick squeeze of the white woman's shoulders, Hca left the ti ikceya. The older woman settled down behind Kathleen and finished working on her hair.

"Slaves and winyan who are not of our people must learn our words, learn to please the wicasa they belong to. But Anpo is no wicasa though she is a great hunter and warrior." As the braiding was finally twisted into place, Gi used a strand of sinew to tie it off. "If a woman who is a slave pleases her wicasa, learns our words and gives her wicasa a child, she will truly become Lakota and will be the wicasa's winuhca."

Kathleen's eyebrows raised as she recognized the name her warrior had called her. Winuhca. Wife? But something else came to mind and she blurted it out before she could stop. "But, I cannot have children, Gi!"

The elder woman leaned forward to peer over Kathleen's shoulder, a small smile on her lips. "It does not matter, Ketlin. You make my cunksi happy and that is important. You have honored me and her ate by your attention to Anpo and I will have you joined with my cunksi."

And what mum says, goes, Kath! The blonde fought back a nervous giggle. She's goin' ta make an honest woman outta me and her daughter!

"They are here! They are here!" Hca exclaimed, ducking into the ti ikceya.

"Be calm, cunksi!" Waniyetu Gi ordered, though there was a sparkle in her eye. She turned back to the blonde woman and readjusted her braids for the sixth time. "Are you ready, Ketlin?"

Swallowing on a suddenly dry mouth, Kathleen nodded. "I am ready, uncisi."

"Good," was the crisp reply. Turning away, the older woman shooed her daughter back out the tiopa of the lodge. "We will await you outside, wiwoha." And then she stepped out herself.

Kathleen found herself alone in the ti ikceya. "Well, here goes nothin', Kath," she murmured. She twitched her belt to a better position and paced in front of the door.

As the two warriors approached Waniyetu Gi's lodge, Anpo noticed a flurry of activity as her cuwe and ina stepped out. Dark eyes narrowed in suspicion at Hca Wanahca's ill-hidden excitement. "Ate?"

Her father, who had also noticed the commotion, shrugged in resignation. "Do not try to understand them, cunksi. They are winyan and do not make sense."

Anpo considered this with growing concern. "I am winyan, ate. Do I not make sense?"

Wanbli Zi grinned and clapped her on the shoulder. "You are a warrior, cunksi, born and bred. You make very good sense."

As they arrived at her mother's lodge, the young warrior decided to drop the subject, though her mind worried it a moment longer. But why do I make sense to ate if I am winyan? Pulling the satchel from across her shoulders, she held it out to her mother. "Ina! We have many fish for you."

The elder woman accepted the catch. "You have done well, cunksi." Without a second glance at it, she set the leather bag on the ground near her normal work area. "Now sit and rest."

Wanbli Zi smiled a greeting at his woman and his oldest child, sitting in his place at the head of the fire. He pulled a pipe out as the younger warrior followed suit.

Looking around, Anpo asked, "Where is Ketlin?"

With an infectious grin, Hca leaped up from her seat tending the fire. "I will get her!" she exclaimed with a giggle.

Her younger sister's brow flashed into a frown of puzzlement. Dark eyes flickered to the man and his recent statement regarding winyan assailed her memory. Anpo's face cleared. They make no sense.

Anpo attempted to distract herself from her cuwe's's strange behavior by glancing about the camp. Nearby, the ti ikceya that had been given to Kathleen stood tall, appearing to be completed. We will live there, soon.

Motion to one side grabbed her attention. Nupa was standing near his mother's lodge, arms crossed over his chest. Anpo almost rose to wave her friend over until she noticed the smug grin on his handsome face. What is so interesting? she wondered. Suspicions fully aroused, the warrior scanned the remainder of the camp, finding whole families loitering outside their lodges and the council fire. All were avidly ignoring Wanbli Zi's fire.

Kathleen paced back and forth in front of the ti ikceya entrance, nervously plucking at her cuwignaka. The leather covering was pushed aside and Hca's head popped in.

"It is time, Ketlin," the young woman said, a wide smile of excitement on her face. She reached out a hand.

A flutter of nerves hit the blonde, her stomach twisting in an unpleasant way. Quit bein' silly, lass! 'Tis just a formality! Nodding and putting on a pleasant face, Kathleen took her friend's hand and allowed herself to be led out the opening.

Anpo turned to her father, preparing to ask his opinion on the oddness of the camp, when Kathleen stepped from her ina's ti ikceya. The warrior's face went slack from shock.

The yellow cuwignaka had been cleaned with paint freshly applied to the designs. A dark brown leather pouch hung from the white woman's waist, an antler knife handle protruding from it. Leggings wrapped her calves and new moccasins were on her feet, the tops of which were painted white with the sun design in red.

Just like mine, Anpo marveled, her eyes drawn back upwards.

The long, blonde hair had been thoroughly combed and oiled with animal fat. Two long braids hung down her back. Around Kathleen's neck was a necklace of elk teeth and porcupine quills.

Her mind blank from the shock, the warrior could only stare at the pale woman's approach.

Kathleen's dark blue eyes took in her friend's nod of encouragement, stifling her fear. She smiled in acknowledgement and turned her attentions to her warrior. With a grace that belied her shrieking nerves, the blonde stepped forward until she was standing before Anpo.

The dark woman peered up at her, eyes bright with unspoken emotion.

The realization that Anpo was as scared as she bolstered the blonde's courage, though her stomach remained upset. The corners of her mouth curled up and she held out her hand.

Reaching up, Anpo felt a tingle move up her arm at the contact of their palms. And then she was being pulled to her feet and led away from her ate's fire. She is joining with me! her mind blithered.

Kathleen's ti ikceya was as yet unadorned. The fire in front was burning merrily, a haunch of meat roasting over it. The blonde led her warrior past it and into the lodge.

Inside, another fire burned, though it was low and just enough to give light. Again, Anpo was led past, this time brought to the place that was across from the tiopa. Here, Kathleen knelt, pulling the dark woman down to sit.

Anpo watched carefully as her woman removed the moccasins she was wearing. They were still damp from the river and Kathleen set them near the fire to dry. Another pair of moccasins were beside them and the woman pulled them closer.

Putting the new footwear on Anpo's feet, Kathleen looked up and into deep brown. "We are joined, winuhca."

The warrior swallowed the lump in her throat. She reached behind Kathleen and pulled the yellow braids to hang forward and down the woman's chest - an indication of her new status. "We are joined, winuhca," she repeated in a husky voice. And then she gathered her woman into her arms.

Kathleen relaxed into the embrace, soaking in the peaceful adoration her warrior emitted. Ye'll never have children, Kath, but p'rhaps God has intended ye somethin' ta make up for it.

Anpo and Nupa stopped to water their ponies at a creek. It had been several days since the young woman's official joining and feast. Wagmiza Wagna's camp was now on the move towards the summer camp. The pair were acting as advance scouts for the rest of their people. So far, things had gone well and there were no dangers to be had. They were now headed back for the night.

The dark woman pulled her pony away from the river and prepared to mount him. "I wish to be to camp by dinner," she said as she settled into the saddle.

Grinning, her friend looked up to her, making no moves towards his own steed. "Is it the way of joining that you cannot be without my hanka's company for more than a day?"

Instead of rankling at Nupa's teasing, the warrior laughed. "Ohan, tiblo! You will understand when you are joined!" Whirling her pony around, she exclaimed, "I will race you to camp! Whoever is first receives a gift from the other!"

The young koskalaka blinked at Anpo for only a moment before vaulting onto his horse. The two sped away, whooping.

As all young warriors were prone to do, upon their arrival at camp, the pair circled around and raced right up to the council fire before pulling up short in a cloud of dust and noise. The hoksila hollered in their excitement and chased each other around the two ponies as the warriors dismounted with laughter.

"I am first!" Nupa exclaimed. "You will give me a gift!"

Anpo nodded, her face a mirror of his own. "Ohan, tiblo." She pulled a pouch from her horse and handed it to her friend. "Here is a pipe. It is made of the bone of tatanka ska. I just finished making it yesterday."

The young man's smile faded to seriousness. "You honor me, tanksi," he murmured.

"I share my honor with my family, tiblo." Anpo draped her arm across his shoulder. "You may not be blood, but you are family to me."

"Thank you, tanksi."

"Anpo!" a voice interrupted.

The two turned towards the voice, seeing Hca Wanahca running towards them, her face serious.

Anpo dropped her arm and took a step forward, all thoughts focusing on her sibling. "What is it, cuwekala?"

"It is Ketlin, mitan. She is ill."

The warrior's heart turned to ice. She left her sister, friend and pony, running for the ti ikceya. Behind her, Hca's voice followed.

"The medicine man is with her, Anpo!"

At Kathleen's lodge, the dark woman was met by her parents who were blocking her way. "Stand aside!" Anpo demanded.

"Hoh, cunksi!" Wanbli Zi insisted, physically holding his worried daughter back. "Let He finish what he is doing!"

Inside the ti ikceya could be heard the sounds of the medicine man, He Osni, chanting a spell of protection over his patient. Anpo glared at her ate, but he would not back down.

Waniyetu Gi slid around from behind him and took her youngest child's shoulder in her hand. "It will be all right, cunksi. Ketlin's stomach hurt her. I asked He to help ease her discomfort." Seeing that Anpo was less agitated, she continued. "Sit at your fire, cunksi."

Wanbli nodded, not losing eye contact with the warrior. "Sit at your fire and wait for the medicine man to finish. He will tell you what you need to know." When Anpo made no move, the older man physically turned her resisting body around and pushed her towards her place.

By now, Hca had returned from the center of camp. As Anpo sat down, she handed her sister a waterskin and some dried meat. "Nupa is tending your pony, mitankala. He will bring your saddle and things when he is finished."

Their father settled down in place beside Anpo. With a gesture, he dismissed his eldest daughter and woman. "I must speak of things with this warrior," he told them. He waited for them to leave before speaking again.

The young warrior's mind was in a turmoil, her heart pounding. Anger boiled beneath the surface. I must see Ketlin! I must protect her! She stared into the fire, trying to find a way to help, not even sure what help was needed. Her ate's voice filtered through and Anpo focused her eyes on him.

"You can do nothing, cunksi. You can only wait. It is hard, being helpless, but you will not ease things with your presence."

"I must help Ketlin," Anpo said, voicing the thoughts racing through her head. "She needs me."

"She needs you to be calm, warrior. She needs you to be able to think." Wanbli sighed. "It is the mark of a man that he may set aside his emotions in trying times, be calm and able to think, to reason. All that can be done is being done. Your presence will only complicate matters and show your dishonor of He."

Anpo blinked at him. "I do not know if I can, ate," she said in a low voice. "I do not wish to dishonor the medicine man...."

"Then stay here at your fire. Be a true warrior, Anpo. Wait until he comes out to speak to you. Do not speak before he does." A strained look crossed his daughter's face and Wanbli's heart went out to her. "I did the same when you were born, cunksi. It is not an easy task to hear your woman scream in pain and not go to her. But it would have dishonored her, as well, should I have interfered."

Finally convinced, though only by a hair, the young warrior nodded and stared into the fire. Her back was to Kathleen's ti ikceya but all her attention was on it.

Nupa arrived, saddle in hand and worry on his face. He set the wood and leather apparatus to one side of the tiopa and sat in his usual place at Anpo's fire. His dark eyes flickered back and forth between the two warriors and he nodded to himself, pulling out the pipe that had just been given him by his friend. "I will smoke now and ask you to join me," he said.

At Wanbli's nod, the young koskalaka filled the bowl with tobacco and lit it. He took a long puff from the pipe and handed it to Anpo.

The three sat at the fire, smoking until the bowl was empty. Inside the lodge, there was only the noise of the chanting and rattling of He's instruments. Eventually, even the sound of these things drifted away and voices could be heard.

The leather opening was thrust aside and an elderly man stepped out. He Osni shuffled towards the fire and settled laboriously in the honored place that Wanbli Zi had vacated for him. The medicine man was very old, having been old when Anpo was born. His skin was dry and leathery, his hair snow white and wispy.

Sitting in silence, Anpo resisted the urge to grab the old man by the collar and wrestle the information out of him. She held back her desire to bolt from the fire and see her winuhca. Behind her, she was comforted to hear her sister and mother entering the ti ikceya to help Kathleen.

After long contemplation, the medicine man spoke, his voice as leathery as his skin. "Your winyan is ill, Anpo."

"Will she be alright, wicahcala?" the woman asked, trying to keep control of her emotions.

"If she does as she is told, she will be fine." There was a long pause. "She is with child."

Stunned silence met his pronouncement as all three of the warriors stared at him.

"W... what?" Anpo asked in a whisper.

The craggy old face broke into a smile, his few teeth gleaming. "Your woman is with child, warrior. She will give birth in a few moons." And, though it was rude, He didn't take offense when the young woman leapt to her feet and dashed into the lodge behind her. Rather, he chuckled and pulled out a pipe.

Kathleen was in her sleeping robes, looking a bit worse for wear. Her stepan was mixing herbs to alleviate her nausea as Gi was preparing water in a clay bowl near the fire. She looked up as Anpo entered, her heart jumping at the dark eyes that pinned her own.

The warrior knelt down beside her winuhca, reaching out to pull a pale hand into hers. "Ketlin," she started, but couldn't think of anything else to say.

The blonde chewed her lower lip and dropped her gaze. She tried to explain. "Anpo. I am sorry. I did not think I could have children...."

"Ketlin," and this time the voice was warm.

Dark blue eyes peered up into a wide smile.

"You are with child, winuhca," Anpo stated happily. "You will bear me a son or daughter!"

Kathleen blinked at her warrior. 'Tis that simple then? My child will be Anpo's? A dim flicker of hope sparked and filled her soul. The fear that she would be tossed aside for bearing another man's child dissipated. "You are happy then...?" she ventured.

"Happy? Winuhca! This is the best thing to happen to me in my life!!" Anpo swept her woman into a hug, rocking her. "Thank you so much for this gift!" she whispered.

Unable to hold back the relief, tears spilled from Kathleen's eyes and she held Anpo tightly. "Thank you, winuhca," she whispered. "Thank you."

 Chapter 6

Yuwipi Ki
(yoo-wee-pee kee)

The Sun Dance

1777

The following morning found Kathleen seated outside her ti ikceya, a mass of reeds in her lap. The base of a basket gave the vegetation some semblance of order, but the loose ends haphazardly filled the air above it. Her tongue was sticking out the corner of her mouth in concentration as she tried to remember which end went where from her lessons with Waniyetu Gi.

A trio of native women walked by, chatting amiably amongst each other and carrying water from the creek they’d camped beside the previous evening. Upon sighting the blonde, they all called to her, bidding her a good day.

With a tentative smile, Kathleen returned the sentiment and watched as they went their way. Well, lass. News certainly travels fast, eh? Shaking her head with a small smile, the woman returned to her task, weaving the reeds together.

As Gi had said, all women were accepted as full members of the Lakota when they made their wicasa happy and bore them children. When He Osni had announced she was pregnant, every woman and wikoskalaka had shown up at the lodge with offers of assistance and help for the new young mother.

It was all a bit overwhelming, to say the least. Yesterday, nobody’d speak ta ye and now ev’rybody’s a friend. The blonde braids shook again at the wonder of it all.

Despite Anpo’s apparent happiness at the news, the white woman hadn’t slept well. Visions of the horrible abuse instigated upon her filled her sleep, making for a restless night. Her warrior had held her closely through the nightmares, soothing her fears and singing her to sleep.

There was no doubt in Kathleen’s mind that the child she carried belonged to her rapist. The knowledge of it chilled her heart even as it soared to new heights of joy. After two years, Adam and I couldn’t have a child. I doubt ‘t’would have changed. And her time with Hehaka Yatke certainly wouldn’t have resulted in pregnancy. He never did anythin’ with me.

Kathleen sighed and tried to focus on the basket in her hands. But the fears and uncertainty continued to plague her mind. Questions flickered through her thoughts, disappearing nearly as fast as they could form.

Just how acceptin’ are these people? Will they accept this child as Anpo’s? Will Anpo accept the child? And the worst thought, the one that the blonde mentally cringed from each and every time it came up - Can I accept the child of the man who raped me?

“Han, winuhca!”

Looking up from her task, Kathleen smiled up at her warrior. She set aside the half completed basket.

Anpo, a wide smile on her face and two brownish animals hanging from one hand, approached and settled down at her fire. Brandishing the dead carcasses, she said, “I have brought you pispiza. You can cook these this night.”

“Thank you, Anpo. You are a very good hunter.” The blonde watched Anpo flush from the compliment before bending to her task. Ah, she’s a pretty one, she is, came the fond thought. “Are you hungry now, winuhca? I have grains boiling.”

“That would be good, Ketlin.”

Kathleen used a wooden spoon to ladle some of the mixture into a clay bowl. She crumbled some dried herbs into it and stirred. Rising, she walked behind the busy young woman and knelt to set the bowl to one side, placing a hand on Anpo’s shoulder to steady herself. Unable to resist, the blonde remained on her knees and leaned forward, using the strong back as support.

Feeling the warmth of her woman against her, Anpo stopped her butchering and turned her head to see the yellow hair just over her shoulder. “How do you feel, winucha?” she asked in a soft voice. “Are you still ill this morning?”

The blonde head readjusted itself. “Hiya. I feel much better now.” The morning sickness had been mild over the last few weeks. So much so that Kathleen hadn’t realized what was happening, thinking it was the stress of her situation that was upsetting her stomach.

“You should try to sleep this afternoon,” the dark woman said. She held her torso steady for Kathleen and returned to her chore of skinning the animals she’d caught. “We will not be leaving for summer camp until tomorrow.”

Loathe to attempt sleep without her warrior, Kathleen shrugged slightly and snuggled against the shoulder she rested on. “I do not know. Maybe.” Her eyes closed.

Anpo finished butchering the carcasses with as little movement of her upper body as she was able. Eventually, the job was done and she remained quiet and still, enjoying the peaceful moment. Ketlin is still so scared, so fearful. Will she ever be free of those evil spirits? A fierce wave of protectiveness flowed through the warrior and she inhaled deeply to quell the sudden urge to turn and sweep Kathleen into her arms. It will frighten her if I move too quickly, she considered, not wanting to repeat her original mistake with the blonde.

“Ketlin.”

Despite her desire to remain awake, the white woman had dozed a bit. Her hand was still on Anpo’s shoulder and, as she roused, she squeezed gently. “I am sorry, winuhca. I am still tired.”

As the blonde pulled away, Anpo turned to peer over her shoulder at her. “You did not sleep well. You must sleep this day. There will be no rest tomorrow until we reach summer camp.”

Kathleen grimaced a little and gave a little shake of her head, looking away. “I cannot, Anpo.” She moved back to the fire and stirred the pot of boiling grains.

She is afraid she will have the dreams again. Anpo looked down to her bloody hands. The meat had been separated from the skins and it was prepared to cook. I will protect mahasanni ki while she sleeps. “I must clean myself,” she told her woman. “You fix the pispiza. We will both rest this day.” Handing the meat to Kathleen, her face brooked no argument.

Kathleen peeked up at her warrior as the taller woman rose. “Ohan, winuhca,” she agreed in a quiet voice. Her heart held a mixture of trepidation for the coming nightmares and caring for this young woman who would insist on taking care of her. Why do I feel so much more for Anpo than I did Adam? the blonde wondered as the dark woman made her way to the creek. And in far less time.

After Anpo had cleaned up and eaten and Kathleen had prepared the meat to be cooked for their evening meal, the warrior took her woman’s hand and led her into the ti ikceya. The edges around the base had been rolled up a few inches to allow a summer breeze to cool the interior. The dark woman removed her shirt and moccasins, leaving her breechclout. Settling down onto the sleeping furs, she waved the blonde closer. “Come, Ketlin. You need rest.”

Still shy even after almost two weeks of being in the warrior’s custody, Kathleen tinted a little and looked away as she removed her cuwignaka. She knew without looking that Anpo’s dark eyes would take in every inch of her fair skin as they always did. And the blonde still hadn’t decided whether it was good or bad. Certainly not like anythin’s goin’ ta happen, lass. At least yer safe in that respect!

A distant part of herself mourned the thought.

As the white woman curled up with her, Anpo sighed in contentment. Her skin on mine feels so..., and she searched for the word. Right. It feels so right. Wanting to increase the contact, the warrior turned on her side and cuddled closer, draping a long arm across her woman’s waist. “Try to sleep, winuhca. I will be here when you wake.”

Kathleen rolled over, as well, facing her warrior and tucking her head beneath a dark chin. She felt the arm snake around her side and a hand rub her back in a gentle, soothing motion. As any tired child, reluctant to sleep, the blonde forced her eyes to remain open. Noting the pulse jumping in Anpo’s neck, her hands reached up to finger the necklace of quills and wooden beads that hung around it.

Anpo continued her caresses, knowing that the woman in her arms didn’t sleep. Finally, she asked, “What is it, Ketlin? What worries cloud your mind?”

There was a sigh followed by silence.

“Ketlin?”

Frowning as she tried to formulate her thoughts into questions, Kathleen sighed again. Just as the dark woman began pulling away to peer down at her, she hastily spoke up to forego the movement. “What happens when the baby arrives?”

The warrior relaxed and returned to her position, blonde hair beneath her chin. “You want to know how our women have children?”

There was a nod and a muffled, “Ohan.”

“When a woman is with child and ready to give birth, she calls her ina to help her. The shaman and the medicine man also help with the birth.” Anpo considered what she knew of her own birth. “Since your ina is not here, my ina will help in her place. The medicine man, He, will chant spells and prepare you, giving you medicines if you need them. Inyan will protect the child from evil spirits that wish to invade it once it is born.”

“And then what?”

There was a slight shrug. “Then the baby is born. Inyan will be the one to hold it as it comes from your san and he will know what the child will be.” Changing the topic slightly, Anpo said, “I was the first child that Inyan ever held and he had a vision of me.”

“A vision? What did he see?” the blonde asked, wanting to know more of her warrior.

“He said that he heard the scream of the igmu when I first cried out. It was he that told my father, Wanbli, that I would be a warrior and hunter.”

Kathleen smiled and nuzzled closer, feeling a sense of pride drift from Anpo. “Do you think he will have a vision with this child?”

“I do not know. Our child will be strong and may bring a vision to a shaman.” She sighed and shook her head. “But, the spirits do not make sense to me. What visions Inyan will see are a mystery and wakan.”

Heart warming at the usage of the word ‘our,’ the blonde asked, “Have you ever had a vision?” Her interest piqued when she felt the woman freeze and watched the vein in her neck beat a double time as her heartrate increased.

With some reticence, Anpo nodded slightly. “I have had a vision,” she admitted.

“What was it about?” the pale woman asked. “Unless you cannot tell me,” she added hastily. “I do not want to... ah....” Her knowledge of the language failed her and Kathleen floundered about for the word that would describe what she meant. In English, she said, “I don’t want ta insult ye, Anpo.”

The musical words washed over Anpo, at odds with the apparent agitation her woman felt. “Shhh,” the warrior said, squeezing her arms tightly around Kathleen. “You have learned our words so well. You will learn them all soon.”

“Not bloody fast enough,” the blonde muttered, her Irish lilt again caressing Anpo’s ears.

Chuckling at the tone, the dark woman pulled her woman closer and rolled onto her back. “You must teach me your words, as well, Ketlin.”

The smaller woman found herself in the usual place, draped across Anpo. Still fighting the need to sleep, though unable to keep her eyes from drifting closed, she asked another question. “How did you see your vision, winuhca? Did it just come to you?”

And Kathleen finally fell asleep, hearing the low voice of her warrior telling her a tale of koskalaka and wikoskalaka and how vision quests were done by each.

Inyan Ceye put the final touches of paint on a rattle he had made from hardened leather. The waning sunlight was still strong but, as he set the item aside, it was blocked by a shadow. Looking up, he found Wi Ile Anpo waiting a respectful distance from his fire.

“Hau, Anpo,” he said, waving her forward. “Sit and smoke a pipe with me.”

The warrior nodded and approached, settling down to Inyan’s left.

The shaman’s woman, who had heard his voice, peered out of her ti ikceya before stepping out and offering the young woman a water skin. “Are you hungry, Anpo?”

Accepting the skin, Anpo shook her head. “Hiya, Maka. I have already eaten. But thank you for the water.”

Maka nodded and returned to her lodge, allowing her wicasa and his guest some privacy.

Lighting the pipe, Inyan puffed on it and waved the smoke closer to his head. He handed the pipe to the young warrior at his fire and watched her do the same. As they smoked in silence, he studied Anpo, comparing her to the wicincala she used to be.

Anpo sat strong yet relaxed, an inner peace seeming to fill her very being. Whereas once she was anxious and unsure when she would visit him, today she was firm in her resolve and it showed in her dark eyes. The pale woman has centered this warrior, he mused.

Once the pipe was finished, the shaman wrapped it. “What is it you wish of me, Anpo?”

“Wicahcala, I would tell you a story.” At the old man’s nod, Anpo inhaled deeply and began. “When I was a child, I thought as a child. I was foolish and did not know the way of adults. After I had my vision, I still was uncertain and unclear, still foolish.” The warrior shrugged slightly, a smile curling the edges of her mouth. “As are all people who are that age.”

Inyan nodded with a smile as well, his eyes asking her to continue.

“Things have changed this season, wicahcala. I am no longer a child. I have seen my vision come to life. I have slain tatanka ska and am joined with the yellow haired woman of my vision. I will become a parent, raising our child in the Lakota way.” Anpo paused, her eyes searching the horizon as she tried to come up with the words. “I have asked this once, before I had my vision. I was denied. I will not ask it again.” The dark woman shook her head, her face solemn. “I demand to participate in the Sun Dance.”

The shaman nodded slightly again. He examined the wikoskalaka before him, again noting the differences in bearing and attitude that had developed in such a short time. “You have much to thank wakan tanka for, warrior. Your fortune has been good.” He was silent in contemplation.

Despite her desire to fidget, Anpo held herself still. Be brave.

“I will teach you what you need for the Sun Dance, Anpo. You will show your honor and respect to wakan tanka at summer camp.”

Almost unable to believe her ears, the young woman let out a pent up breath. “Thank you, wicahcala! Thank you!”

“You are welcome, Anpo. Now go. I must prepare.” The shaman waved her away with a mock glare. As the wikoskalaka rose and trotted off, a huge grin on her face, Inyan remembered a similar moment. When a wicincala was once told she could seek a vision in the way of her father. He smiled to himself.

The smoke from many fires led the people to the summer camp. As she crested a hillock, leading the pony that had been given her by her warrior, Kathleen had to gasp at the number of ti ikceyas that were present. Goodness! There must be hundreds of them!

“Stepan,” Hca Wanahca said with a laugh. “Keep walking or we will never get there!”

The blonde blushed as she realized she’d frozen in place. “Ohan, stepan,” she responded with a rueful smile, continuing along.

Ahead of the women and children were the elders and important men, with Wagmiza Wagna leading the way. All were bedecked in their finest clothing and regalia. Around the rest of their camp the other warriors rode or walked.

Their presence had been spotted by the camp’s inhabitants. Kathleen could see groups of riders heading their way and she suddenly shivered. What happens when they see me? she worried, remembering the last few weeks of pinches and hair pulling and unwanted touches. Her dark blue eyes searched for her warrior but were unable to locate her.

Anpo and Nupa, inseparable as always, had ranged ahead of their camp, scouting out the area. They passed around the large camp in the valley below them.

“Look! There are the Sicangu,” Nupa pointed out, using his spear. “Tanksi, do you remember their warrior who told us the story of wrestling with the spirits?”

The woman smiled. “Ohan. And he said he had a scar and showed us the markings on his back.” A sense of excitement was with her and her pony pranced about in response. “I was nine winters.”

"And I twelve.” Nupa gave a false shudder. “I was unable to sleep for days after.”

Anpo laughed and nodded. “Me, too, tiblo! I expected the spirit to come from the other world and attack me!”

They continued on their path, remembering other times as they checked the perimeter. Soon they had swung back around, seeing Wagmiza Wagna leading their people down the slope and towards the encampment below.

Anpo’s eyes searched for her woman and found her, the yellow hair shining in the sun. She also saw the front-runners from the camp riding towards her people. “I must go to Ketlin, tiblo. She will need me near.”

Nodding, the koskalaka agreed. “Hau, tanksi. Our camp has gotten used to her strange look. There are many more of people here who have not seen yellow hair or pale skin before.”

Surprised, the warrior blinked at him. “I had not thought of that, tiblo! I only thought of the many people that Ketlin would not be used to.” Her face became grim and she urged her pony forward. “My winuhca will need me to protect her.”

Kathleen kept her head down and swallowed a lump in her throat. The riders had approached and hailed the chief, some stopping to speak with he and the elders that led the camp. The remainder of them, young warriors full of excitement, circled the group, whooping and hollering. Several started up conversations with other warriors of the camp, but a few had noticed her.

Four of these had ridden their ponies right up to her, their hooves prancing about dangerously close to her feet. Her own horse tried to shy away and Kathleen spent a great deal of energy holding onto his reins to keep him from bolting at the sudden attention. She could hear Gi and Hca haranguing the riders for their rudeness, though it appeared to do no good.

One rider ignored the women and hopped off his pony, intent on getting a closer look. He took a step forward before a pale horse purposely sidled into his path and forced him back.

“Leave her alone.”

A wave of relief swept over the blonde as she recognized Anpo’s voice. She risked a glance and saw the beautiful woman glaring down at the warrior who was on foot. Thank God!

The man returned the glare and tried to step around the pony, only to have it backed into him and pushing him away again.

“I said leave her alone.”

“Who are you to order me?” the warrior on the ground demanded.

Anpo grew taller in the saddle. “I am Anpo and she is my winyan. You will not touch her.”

His chin went up at the challenge. “What if I do?”

“Then you will die.”

The warrior scoffed, tossing a look of disbelief over his shoulder at his comrades. Turning back to the mounted woman, he said, “I know you. You are wikoskalaka. You will not kill me.” He barked a laugh. “Besides, any of us who kill a Lakota will be banished.”

Anpo’s face developed an ugly smile. “Then I will be banished and I will live with my winuhca elsewhere. You will still be dead, hearing the whispers of your ancestors as they remind you of your dishonor with a joined woman.”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he considered whether she was bluffing or not. A flurry of hooves interrupted his thought and all eyes turned to the arriving horses.

Wicasa Waziya Mani pulled his pony up short of the tableau, dark eyes flickering about. Other elders from the summer camp had arrived with him, as well, all curious as to what was holding up the arrival of Wagna’s people. Surveying the situation, he jumped from his mount and approached the two warriors. With a great smile, he reached up to take the woman warrior’s forearm. “Anpo! It is good to see you, friend!”

The dark woman blinked at the chief. Not wanting to insult him by ignoring him, she grasped his arm in return. “Thank you, wicahcala.”

The elder made a show of looking around the woman’s belongings. “Where’s the robe of tatanka ska?”

The other warrior’s jaw dropped.

“It is with my winuhca’s ti ikceya,” Anpo responded, a grin curling her lips at the other young men’s responses.

“’Winuhca!’” The chief peered over the dark woman’s horse to see the blonde who was hanging her head. “So you are joined!? That is very good news!”

“Thank you, wicahcala.”

“You are the one who killed tatanka ska?” the warrior on the ground finally sputtered.

Warming to his task, Mani turned and clapped the koskalaka on the shoulder. “Hau! There were four of us who tried and Anpo’s shot was true! I will tell you the story when we get back to camp.” The chief remounted his pony and waved the warrior to follow. “Come, we will talk at my fire.”

The warrior appeared to debate the issue, looking from the chief to the wikoskalaka. A glance across the horse and he could see the strange yellow hair that had garnered his attention. With a frown and a shake of his head, he glared up at Anpo. “I challenge you for the winyan.”

Not understanding the word spoken, Kathleen was aware that the tension in the area had increased threefold. Her face was concerned and questioning as she studied the people, trying to comprehend what exactly was going on and being said.

Mani made a last attempt. “Let the people of Wagna settle down in camp. You can challenge later, if you wish. Come with me.”

The warrior on the ground stubbornly shook his head.

Face grim, Anpo looked to her friend. Nupa’s horse edged forward until he was beside her. She handed the reins of her pony to him.

“You will win, tanksi,” he insisted in a low voice as he took her pony. “I have seen him wrestle before. His arms are weak.”

Anpo nodded and grinned. “Thank you, tiblo.” And then she hopped down from her horse and it was led away.

As the people cleared a space, pulling back from the two combatants, Kathleen was urged to one side by Hca. “What is happening, stepan? What is my winuhca doing?”

“She has been challenged for you, stepan. She will wrestle the warrior for you.”

Dark blue eyes were still confused. “What is that word, Hca?” she asked, repeating the one that baffled her.

“Challenge.” Hca thought for a moment. “My mitan has been challenged, asked to fight for you.”

“Fight for me!?” Kathleen looked at the two warriors who were now circling around the open area. Oh my God! Challenged! Anpo’s been challenged! As fear filled her heart, she watched. What if she loses!?

The two weaved and dodged, grabbing at each other and feinting as they moved in the hot sun. Around them, bets were cast and items wagered. With a fierce cry, the warrior pounced on the woman, chest butting her in an effort to drive her to the ground.

Anpo met him, internally wincing as her breasts were crushed between them. With a growl, she kept her feet, wrapping long arms around his ribcage. Locking her wrists, she exerted pressure.

The warrior was not wearing a shirt and sweat covered his body. He was able to twist in her grasp, causing the wikoskalaka to lose her hold. Standing sideways to her, he brought his elbow down hard onto her neck juncture.

Letting go of the warrior, her left arm tingly and weak from the hit, Anpo felt more than saw the man reach for her head. Rather than get caught in a headlock, she dropped to the ground with a suddenness that surprised them all.

He had almost had her and then she simply vanished. Before the warrior could realize that she had ducked down, he felt his legs being swept out from beneath him and he fell.

Anpo watched the warrior roll over and try to regain his feet. She launched herself at him and landed on his back, forcing him into the dirt. Her left arm was better, but she decided not to chance it and wrapped the right around his neck, using her left hand to brace him in a hold.

The warrior could feel the woman’s grip tightening on his throat. He tried to use his strong legs to stand, but she kept him off balance enough to make it impossible. As he began to struggle with breathing, he could hear her voice.

“Are you finished fighting?” When there was no response, Anpo squeezed. The warrior could barely move from the hold, but she could feel his head shake in the negative. Grimacing, she continued to apply pressure. “Stop fighting and I will let you go.”

Unable to lose face with his people, the warrior refused. His struggles weakened, but he continued on until he finally passed out from lack of oxygen.

As soon as the man fainted, Anpo released him. She rose to a squat beside his body and gently turned him over. A hand held over his face insured her that he was still breathing. Around her, the crowd of spectators were quiet.

The wikoskalaka rose to her feet and stood over the body of her challenger. Her dark eyes raked dangerously over the people surrounding them. “Who else wishes to challenge me?”

No one stepped forward.

With a curt nod, she left the clearing, intent on her family and friends. Around her, the young warriors of her camp began whooping in celebration of her success.

Ah, who needs a knight in shinin’ armor? Kathleen wondered as her winuhca approached her. I’ve got one in buckskin and that’s much better!

“Ketlin? Are you all right?”

The blonde slipped into her warrior’s arms and smiled up into concerned dark eyes. “Ohan, Anpo. I am much better now.”

Hearing the gratitude in her woman’s voice, the warrior’s smile grew wider. She hugged Kathleen, relishing the feel of the woman in her arms.

“I told you you would beat him,” Nupa exclaimed with a grin. He handed Anpo the reins of her steed and clambered onto his own. “I now have a new spear and a bone necklace!”

Anpo shook her head with a fond smile as she released Kathleen and mounted her own pony. “You always bet well, tiblo.”

“Hau, tanksi. I always wager on you.”

Behind them, the challenger’s friends scooped him up and tossed him over his horse for the ride back into the summer camp. Mani winked at the young woman and shrugged slightly before turning away and leading the parade down the hill.

Looking down at her woman, Anpo smiled fondly. “Take my hand, winuhca,” she said, reaching out. “You will ride with me so that all might know we are together.”

Still holding the reins to her own pony, Kathleen grasped the firm forearm and felt herself hoisted up behind her warrior. There was a pause as she settled herself in place, wrapping her arms around Anpo’s waist.

“Are you ready, winuhca?” the dark woman asked. Her own arm was placed over the pale ones.

Nodding, Kathleen replied, “Ohan, Anpo. I am ready.” As the pony began to move, she snuggled closer. “Thank you, winuhca.”

Anpo squeezed the arm with fondness. “I will always protect you, Ketlin. You will be safe with me.” A past vision of a bloodied hand reaching to caress her face flashed through the warrior’s mind and she shook it off. Hiya! It will be as Inyan said, only the hurts of a joined couple!

Unaware of the discordance within her warrior, Kathleen sighed, a small smile of contentment on her face.

Upon the camp’s arrival at their designated area on the southern side of the huge encampment, the women began setting up their ti ikceyas. Several winyan from the surrounding lodges pitched in to help. Most of the wicasa wandered off to other camps, greeting old friends and making new ones. There were a few men, older and with a black stripe painted across their faces, who stayed behind to organize the camp and ensure that all went smoothly.

As Kathleen finished the final tying of her lodge, she glanced around at the amount of idle people gawking at her. Just like when our camp met with Anpo’s, she remembered. While a few were rude enough to outright stare at her, most of the others watched from the corners of their dark eyes, looking quickly away when her gaze fell on them.

“Stepan.”

The blonde smiled as Hca came from around the side of her lodge, arms laden with drywood. She trotted forward and took part of the load.

The dark woman grinned. “I have found the best place to swim, stepan! And there is plenty more wood. You will help me?”

“Ohan, stepan. We will collect the wood for both lodges.”

Nodding, Hca looked around at the surrounding people. “Do they bother you, Ketlin?”

“Hiya. They are just curious.” Despite her words, however, Kathleen blushed and dropped her shoulders a bit. Ye tryin’ ta convince Hca or yerself, lass?

The wikoskalaka dropped the wood in a pile near the future firepit. “They will be curious for some time.” She dusted off her hands and placed them on her hips. Glaring menacingly at the nearest spectators, she spoke loudly, “If you have nothing to do, you can help with my stepan’s lodge!” When no one moved, their faces startled, Hca marched forward and grabbed the first boy she came to. “Here!” She dragged him towards Kathleen’s ti ikceya and picked up a waterskin. “Get water for my stepan since you have nothing else to do but be rude.”

The hoksila blinked at her for just a moment before pelting away towards the river, waterskin flopping against his ribs.

Hca’s eyes turned to the suddenly clear area and she let out a joyous laugh. “They will talk of this through the summer camp, stepan! If you put any to work, they will be sure to avoid you!” She shared another laugh with the blonde. “You and I will collect more wood and stones for the firepits.”

Nodding, dark blue eyes sparkling, the pale woman joined her friend as they walked away. Two more winyan of Wagna’s camp also came with them, followed by three from the summer camp. Introductions were made and they continued on their way, chatting and giggling and getting to know one another.

Thus, Kathleen found herself with a number of new friends. They worked quickly and well together, laughing at stories regarding their men and brothers and uncles, comparing the young warriors good looks and abilities, and passing news of the other bands of their people.

It seemed like no time had passed before the blonde found herself back at her lodge, the firepit built, wood stacked neatly nearby, and a stew simmering over the flames. Hca had wandered off to her mother’s ti ikceya to help with dinner.

Kathleen stood with her hands on her hips, inhaling deeply of the aroma from the food. “Well, lass, time ta get some projects done. That basket isn’t goin’ ta wait forever.” She settled down in her place by the fire, close enough to stir the clay pot to keep the stew from sticking, and scooped up the mess of reeds.

As she worked, she hummed a tune that her grandmother had taught her on the tin whistle. Nearby could be heard some drums and rattles as some shaman or other worked his magic. The children of her camp raced by, hollering as they eluded capture from another band’s hoksila. Strangers wandered nearby, most intent on seeing old friends for the first time in a winter, but some to catch a glimpse of the rumored white woman.

Anpo, who had disappeared with the other koskalaka and wicasa as soon as she knew that her woman would be safe, returned. She stopped to study Kathleen, a loving look in her dark eyes.

The sun had lowered in the sky and it’s reddish rays glanced across the small clearing in front of the pale woman’s lodge. As Kathleen worked on her weaving, her yellow hair would get caught up in the light and flash brilliantly. Seeming to sense something, she stopped her work and looked about, her face aglow almost as brightly when she saw her warrior.

She is so wondrous.... She hurts my eyes with her beauty! Smiling, Anpo approached the ti ikceya. “Han, winuhca.”

Kathleen and risen to her feet as her warrior approached. “Han, winuhca,” she repeated. “There is stew if you are hungry.”

Unable to help herself, Anpo refused to answer and closed the distance between them, pulling the blonde into an embrace. Her body ached with their closeness and a realization came to her. I am hungry! My skin is hungry for her touch!

Pleasantly surprised with the hug, Kathleen relaxed into it, feeling strong arms squeeze her close. I want ta do somethin’, she mused, feeling a flutter in her heart, but I don’t know what ‘tis.

They remained that way for some time. Others of their camp ignored them politely as they went about their own evening meals. The few strangers who gawked were badgered into going away and leaving the young couple alone.

Reluctantly, Anpo broke the hug, pulling away. She peered into the dark blue eyes, recognizing the softness she felt in her own heart. “You mean so much to me, winuhca.” A small, shy smile answered her and the warrior embraced her woman for a moment longer.

“Thank you, Anpo.” Kathleen felt a vague sense of loss when the dark woman pulled back to settle down in her place in front of the ti ikceya. With a curl of her lips, she scooped some of the stew into a clay bowl and handed it to Anpo.

A comfortable silence enveloped the pair. The dark woman ate her meal while Kathleen returned to her weaving, only stopping to refill the bowl that was returned to her.

“You are not eating, winuhca?”

The blonde blushed a bit. “Hiya, winuhca. My stomach is hurting.”

Anpo set the bowl down in concern and leaned closer. “You must eat, Ketlin. You must keep up your strength for our child.”

“Ohan, Anpo. I know.” Kathleen dropped her gaze and shrugged a little.

“I will go to He and ask for something to settle your stomach, winuhca.”

As Anpo rose, setting her bowl to one side, the pale woman looked up in startlement. “But you have not finished eating!”

The dark woman grinned down at her, reaching out a hand to caress the smooth cheek. “I can always eat, Ketlin.”

Despite herself, the blonde chuckled. The amount of food her warrior took in was amazing at times. Aye, lass! Even bratty Stewart couldn’t eat so much!

Happy to see the humor in the dark blue eyes, Anpo nodded. “I will return with the medicine man.” And then she trotted off with a purpose.

After much fussing from her warrior and a thorough quizzing by the elder, a small pouch of herbs was handed to Kathleen with instructions on how much to use in a tea. The medicine man refused to leave until his patient prepared the first bit and drank it down. He then accepted a bowl of stew with a smile.

“I have heard that you will be doing the Sun Dance, Anpo,” the man said, his voice raspy with age.

The warrior nodded, a pleased look on her face. “Ohan, wicahcala! I will dance this summer and show my gratitude to wakan tanka for all the honor shown me this season.” She scooped up her own bowl of stew and began to eat.

“It is a great honor for you, wikoskalaka. I am sure that the spirits will be proud.” Aged eyes looked to the blonde who had finally made an attempt at eating. “What will happen with your winyan while you are away?”

Kathleen’s ears perked up and her heart thumped. Away? Anpo’s goin’ away!? With an intense curiosity she followed the conversation. It took all her considerable will power to not interrupt them.

“I have asked Nupa to stay near and protect her for me.” A tender glance was sent her woman’s way, as if to reassure the suddenly fearful blonde. “He will take care of my winuhca until the ceremony is complete and I can return.”

The medicine man nodded, finishing his bowl of food. “It is good to have such friends, wikoskalaka. Nupa Olowan is a fine warrior and very honorable. He will keep your winyan safe.”

“Ohan, wicahcala, I have been very fortunate to have him.”

Seeing that the elder was finished, Kathleen moved around the fire and reached for the empty bowl. “Would you have more, wicahcala?

“Hiya, wikoskalaka,” He said, shaking his head. “I must return to my cunksi’s lodge, now.” As he struggled to his feet, he accepted the help of the blonde with a smile. “You drink that tea whenever you are ill, wikoskalaka,” he ordered, waving a finger at her.

Properly deferential, despite an impish grin playing at the corners of her mouth, Kathleen nodded. “Ohan, wicahcala. I will.”

And, with a curt nod, he shambled off.

The pale woman set aside the empty container for cleaning later on. Returning to her place, she reached for Anpo’s bowl and refilled it before handing it back. Unsure of what was and was not acceptable, she chewed her upper lip in thought for a moment. Go on, Kath. Ye’ve never stopped questionin’ a thing before. Why stop now?

Anpo took the bowl and enjoyed her meal, happy that her woman had eaten some and now had the medicine needed to settle her stomach for future sickness.

“Where are you going, winuhca, that you need Nupa to stay with me?”

The warrior finished chewing her mouthful before speaking. “Not far, winuhca,” she said in an effort to ease the woman’s mind. “I will be required to stay in the large ti ikceya at the center of summer camp for a few days.”

“Because of the Sun Dance?”

“Ohan. I will stay in the lodge for four days after the ceremony begins.” She watched worried blue eyes flicker away from hers. Anpo set down her bowl and waved her woman nearer, pulling her closer in a gentle hug. “It will be all right, mahasanni ki. Nupa will protect you until I return.”

Mahasanni ki? What’s that? Shaking off the thought, Kathleen nodded. “Will he sleep where you sleep then?” she asked in a low voice, fishing for any information on the cultural differences. It had not been lost on her that her warrior and Nupa seemed to share everything. Does that mean their women, too?

“What?” Anpo sat back to peer down at the blonde in her arms. She is worried that I will give her to Nupa! “Hiya, Ketlin! It is your ti ikceya! He will sleep where you wish him to sleep!”

Dark blue eyes blinked as her fear eased. “If I wish him to sleep out here by the fire, he will?” she ventured, unsure of her status.

The warrior shrugged and nodded, though her face held slight disappointment. “Ohan, winuhca. Though I would like you to open your heart to my tiblo and let him sleep inside your lodge as a true friend.”

Seeing that Anpo wasn’t happy with her question, the pale woman rushed to comfort her feelings. “I will, winuhca! Nupa will sleep in my ti ikceya until you return from the Sun Dance.”

The warrior bestowed a smile on her woman and held her close. “That is very good, Ketlin. Thank you for showing my tiblo honor.”

Her voice muffled against the yellow shirt, Kathleen responded, “And thank you for taking such good care of me, winuhca. I am very grateful.”

The following days were a bit of a blur to Kathleen. Once her warrior had disappeared into the sweat lodge with nearly a dozen others, she forced herself to remain busy to keep the fears at bay. The blonde spent quite a bit of time at her uncisi’s lodge, keeping Hca and Gi company. She tossed and turned her nights away, fighting off her nightmares in silent misery while Nupa slept a few feet away.

The ceremony for the Sun Dance was a welcome distraction, however, and the blonde found all the singing and dancing and other practices quite interesting. It took almost two full days of feasting, singing and ceremony before the center log needed for their dance was finally cut down and set up inside the large ti ikceya. Kathleen had seen Anpo upon occasion through all of it and, though they couldn’t speak to each other, her heart soared when the dark eyes found hers.

“Hanka!” Nupa exclaimed as he trotted towards her lodge. “Today is the day! Anpo will dance the Sun Dance and show her gratitude to the spirits!”

“Will she be able to come home today?” Kathleen asked, standing from her place by the fire.

“Hau, Ketlin. She will come home and we will feast in her honor all night!”

His enthusiasm was contagious and the blonde found herself being pulled excitedly along towards the largest lodge. Most of the summer camp’s population was joining them, all crowding happily into the structure and singing a song. She spotted her warrior among the dozen candidates by the center pole that had been put up the previous day.

Anpo looked a bit worn. She was wearing odd clothing - the shirt she wore was painted red and a blue skirt hung from her waist. Her skin was a ruddy color. Nupa had said it was because the shamans had been painting all the dancers with the sacred red color. There were additional adornments of fur and sage around her wrists, ankles and head. The final touches were the cape about her shoulders and the hoop she carried covered with the same material.

The pole in the center had been decorated, as well, since its cutting and placement. It had been a tall, straight cottonwood tree. Now it was stripped of all extraneous branches and leaves. The fork at the top had been painted red and various items could be seen there - sage, fur, and other fetishes. There were also quite a number of braided thongs hanging down to wave gently around the base.

More singing, more drumming and dancing by the shamans and candidates. Hca, who stood beside the blonde smiled as she sang and wrapped an arm around Kathleen’s shoulders. They swayed together as the shamans chanted and drummed through yet another song.

“Now the Sun Dance begins!” Nupa murmured into the pale woman’s ear as the final song was completed.

The level of anticipation seemed to intensify around Kathleen and the candidates circled the pole. There were four shamans there, as well, and they each approached one of the garish dancers pulling on the braided thongs hanging from the log above.

Kathleen’s gasp of horror was clearly audible to those around her as she watched the shamans cut into the chests of the candidates and attach the thongs to their skin with sticks.

Concerned, the dark woman beside her peered closely into large blue eyes. “Stepan?” she questioned quietly.

How.... How... barbaric! No other thought could be had. Her mouth moved, no sound issuing.

Realizing that the woman’s response was not a good one, Hca squeezed the stiff shoulders. “Be strong, Ketlin!” she urged in a tight whisper. “Anpo needs you to be there for her!”

The words slowly sank in. Anpo needs me. Be strong. Swallowing hard, her eyes bright with unshed tears of fear, she nodded and pulled herself straighter. I will be strong for my winuhca.

Hca nodded in return, seeing a spark of sensibility return to the strange colored eyes. She did not relinquish her grip around the blonde’s shoulders, however, hoping to give her some support.

Anpo watched as the first began to dance, pulling back and away from the pole. Their blood flowed where the cuts had been placed and the skin strained from their bodies. She had been four days without food and only a bit of water and was feeling a little lightheaded. The woman warrior shuffled around with the remaining candidates, keeping time with her feet as the singing and music continued.

The shamans picked four more individuals from the group. These were pulled towards the pole, as well, their shirts removed. They were cut but, rather than be attached to the pole to dance, each had four buffalo skulls attached to their backs. These then began to dance around the pole, dragging the skulls along.

Bile rose in Kathleen’s throat as she watched the gory proceedings. How can they do this!? This is disgustin’!! Torture, plain and simple! Her heart thudded heavily in her chest as she saw the shaman approach her warrior. Oh, my God! What will they do ta her!?

Anpo removed her shirt revealing a soft leather band wrapped tightly around her breasts. The shaman before her, Inyan Ceye, smiled reassuringly through his buffalo mask as he prepared his knife. The obsidian was sharp and the warrior could hardly feel any pain when the skin of her chest was cut open. Two thongs were attached to her.

“Wait, Wi Ile Anpo,” the shaman said. “You and I are not finished.”

The woman could feel the blood trickling down her chest, staining the leather she wore. She swayed a little from her overall weakness as the shaman circled around her. And then she could feel two more incisions on her shoulder blades and more thongs attached.

Kathleen watched as her warrior was pulled from the thongs hanging from the pole as well as the ones attached to stakes pounded into the floor behind. As the shaman moved away from Anpo, she could see her winuhca swaying back and forth, pulling at the rawhide that held her pinned.

Around her the crowd continued their singing, repeating the same song over and over as the dancers danced. As one by one they pulled away from the pole, ripping themselves free, the gathered people cheered for them. The four that were dragging the buffalo skulls were also cheered as they went past and as the weight of the bone pulled the thongs free.

There were three other warriors attached to stakes in the ground as Anpo was, swaying back and forth to the beat and staring upwards, but the blonde’s eyes were only for her warrior. She’d stopped trying to keep up with the tune around her, concentrating solely on Anpo’s misery. The dark eyes were focused on the peak of the ti ikceya, keeping them on the sun as she weaved and pulled. Ah, my poor love!

Eyes stinging from the tears, Anpo danced back and forth. The sticks that were used to attach the rawhide rubbed against her furiously, irritating the incisions. After several minutes, a euphoria seemed to take over and the pain receded from her mind as she prayed to the spirits and thanked them for the honor of tatanka ska and Ketlin.

One by one, the dancers freed themselves from the wakan tree. Soon, there was only one remaining. Kathleen watched in anguish, her entire body humming with the need to rush out and protect her warrior. The only thing holding her back was Hca’s arm firmly wrapped about her shoulders and the apparent acceptance of all the other Lakota who were present.

And then there was a gasp from the spectators as Anpo jerked backwards with a purpose, ripping the thongs from her chest simultaneously. A loud cheer rang out, filling the lodge.

Kathleen grimaced and moaned low in her throat.

“Your winuhca is very powerful and honored, hanka,” Nupa murmured into her ear. “Not many are so strong as to do what she has done.”

The praise did nothing to ease the blonde’s fears. Despite her desire to not see anymore of the savage display, she couldn’t keep her eyes from the lone dancer still in the clearing.

Bracing herself, Anpo forced herself to surge forward. She felt her skin ripping, a sickening sensation, and the hot flow of fresh blood coursing down her back. With no further resistance from behind, the warrior stumbled and fell to her knees.

“Anpo!” Kathleen cried, her voice drowned from the cheering of the onlookers. She tried to go to her woman only to be held back by Hca and Nupa.

“Hiya, Ketlin!” the dark woman insisted, blotting out Kathleen’s view of her sister. “You must not!”

Regardless of the plea, the blonde continued to fight against her captors until Nupa’s face filled her vision.

“Hanka!” he yelled. “Do not dishonor your winuhca!”

The words washed over her, leaving a chillness in their wake. Dishonor?

Seeing uncertainty, Nupa continued. “She is a warrior and she has shown her gratitude for all her honor to wakan tanka! Do not let all she has done be for nothing! Let her walk out with pride!”

Anpo stumbled to her feet, breathing heavily. She and the other dancers gathered around the pole and sang a final song of thanks to the spirits. There was a hush when it was finished and all of them shuffled out into the summer camp’s clearing.

Tears were coursing down Kathleen’s face as her warrior shambled by, exhausted and hurting. She started to reach a hand out, to touch her, to assure her that she was there, but pulled back. Don’t dishonor her. Be brave. She needs me ta be brave.

And then the dozen candidates were outside the ti ikceya and the people all began leaving, as well. The blonde looked to Anpo’s sister, her face anguished and questioning.

A tender look crossed Hca’s face and she nodded. “Go to her, Ketlin. She will need you now.” She smiled when her stepan needed no further encouragement, slipping away through the crowd towards the tiopa.

Anpo tried to remain standing tall, but was having some difficulty. Many people passed her, offering kind words and smiles. But none had the face of the one she wished to see. A warmth seemed to caress her from one side and the warrior instinctively turned that way. An arm wrapped around her waist and her woman shouldered some of her burden.

“Winuhca!” Kathleen said in a breathless tone. “You and I will go home now.” The grin that she received nearly made her heart stop.

“I love you, mahasanni ki,” the young warrior said, allowing herself to be led away.

The blonde woman paused for just a second before continuing on her path. That’s what ‘tis then? Love? Pause. Anpo loves me? With a silly grin plastered on her mouth, Kathleen answered, “I love you, too, winuhca. More than you will ever know.”

Chapter 7

Wakan Waste
(wah-kahn wash-teh)

Good Energy

1778

The warrior sat at the fire, quietly smoking a pipe. She had a buffalo robe wrapped about her to keep out the chill of the late winter evening. Before her was a fire that crackled and popped. She was not alone.

Her sister was bustling around the fire to one side. As the wikoskalaka finished preparing the evening meal, she filled a clay bowl of stew and handed it to the warrior. “Here, mitankala. Eat.”

Wi Ile Anpo looked up from the fire. “Ohan, cuwekala,” she said with worried face. “Thank you.” Setting the bowl to one side, the warrior finished smoking her pipe in silent contemplation, steam from her breath mingling with the tobacco smoke.

Before her lay the winter camp of Wagmiza Wagna. About thirty ti ikceyas lay around a large cleared area in a near circle. The only open space among them was on the eastern side where the entrance would face the rising sun. At the exact opposite of the communal space was a larger ti ikceya that was used as a meeting place for the elders and chiefs.

Finishing her tobacco, the warrior emptied the ashes into the fire so that the spirits could have the sacred smoke. Hca Wanahca was watching carefully as she stirred the stew.

Behind the warrior was her winuhca’s ti ikceya. In the flickering firelight, designs could be seen painted on the buffalo hide. The doorway was closed, a separate leather skin covering it. But it didn’t close off the noises coming from within. A man’s voice, the medicine man, was singing. Another’s, the shaman, was chanting a spell of protection. Beneath them could be heard the sounds of a woman moaning in pain.

The warrior ate her meal quietly. Around the clearing, other families were gathered around their own lodges, all minding their own business but also out and about in silent support of her. At a fire nearby, her father and best friend were doing the same. The elders were gathered at the main fire by the council ti ikceya, smoking their pipes and discussing where to set up the summer camp in the following months.

In the lodge behind her, a sudden howling rent the air. The camp seemed to freeze, all appearing to hold their collective breath in trepidation. And then a wail from an indignant newborn christened the night sky and the camp returned to its activities in relief. A few more moments passed as the men inside finished their prayers and incantations. The babe’s voice eventually died down.

When the shaman and medicine man stepped out of the ti ikceya, Hca left the fire and headed inside. This seemed to break the tableau around the camp. As the two men sat at the warrior’s fire, the women from the other lodges began trailing closer, intent on offering assistance to the new mother.

The two men sat in silence for a few moments. The shaman pulled out a bundle of fur and carefully unwrapped a pipe. It was made of an antelope antler and intricately carved and decorated. The others watched as he carefully loaded the bowl with tobacco. He crouched forward and, with aged fingers, used two twigs to lift a burning ember, lighting the pipe.

The shaman spoke a prayer as he offered the smoke to the four directions. And then he took a puff of the pipe, using his free hand to guide the smoke towards his head and behind.

The shaman handed the pipe, stem first, to the warrior who repeated the process of smoking and guiding the cloud closer. And it was passed to the medicine man who did the same. The trio sat in silence, finishing this ritual. When the bowl held nothing but ashes, the shaman tapped it into the fire, releasing the last of it for the great spirits that ruled their world.

The warrior waited patiently, although her worries were growing by leaps and bounds the longer the wise men remained silent. She breathed a faint sigh of relief when the medicine man cleared his throat in preparation of speaking, unaware that her father had gone through this same arduous process seventeen winters earlier.

“You have a strong cinksi, wikoskalaka,” He Osni rasped, his voice almost a whisper from the extended use and the cold of winter.

“And Ketlin? How is my winuhca?” Anpo asked, leaning forward with intensity.

Inyan Ceye chuckled as he wrapped the pipe. “She is well, wikoskalaka. The labor was long, but the birth was quick.” He slipped the bundle into a pouch.

“Hau,” the older medicine man agreed with a snort. “The wakanyeja was stubborn until he made the decision to leave his ina’s san.”

Anpo’s face was a mix of concern and confusion. She had seen babies before but had never seen a newborn display obstinance. “Stubborn...?” Her dark head shook.

The shaman laughed outright at her consternation and clapped a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Hau, Anpo! Your cinksi will be stubborn, just like you and his ina! He will take a long time to set his path, but he will follow that path to the end when he finds it!”

Still not sure if this was a good character trait or not, the warrior’s answering laugh was a bit weak. Sitting still at her fire, Anpo fought with her natural inclination to dash into the ti ikceya and check on her winuhca herself.

Seeing the whites of the young warrior’s eyes, He Osni smiled and waved her away. “Go, wikoskalaka. Go see your family before you shake apart from within.”

A quick look at Inyan, who also nodded and urged her with a wave of a hand, and Anpo was up and into her woman’s lodge, scattering the other winyan and wikoskalaka like quail in the tall grass.

Inside, the ti ikceya was warm from the fire. Waniyetu Gi and Hca were both chattering and cooing at the blonde woman and the warrior found that puzzling. They have never treated Ketlin like that before.... There were other women in the lodge, some gathered around Kathleen and others tending the fire or tidying up. All stood aside with smiles on their faces when they saw Anpo approaching.

The small crowd parted and the warrior could see the yellow of her woman’s hair. “Ketlin?” she asked, her voice tentative as the flushed face and tired eyes met hers.

“Winuhcala,” Kathleen responded. “Come see your son.” She watched her warrior and partner kneel down beside her, dark blue eyes searching the handsome face for any sign. Now we’ll see, lass. Will she accept a child that isn’t hers? She chewed her lower lip in anxiety, despite Gi’s promising response.

As Anpo settled down beside her woman, she could see the reason for her family’s strange behavior. Something wrapped in a skin squirmed on Kathleen’s chest; small suckling noises and a tuft of black hair were all that could be heard or seen. She reached out but pulled her hand back at a sudden movement, startled.

Despite her worries and exhaustion, the blonde woman chuckled. She took her warrior’s hand. “It is fine, winuhcala.” Bringing their hands to the wriggling bundle, she brushed aside the skin, revealing the newborn. “You can touch him, Anpo.”

He is so.... His skin is so wrinkled! And then the warrior’s fingers brushed against the baby’s back. And soft! she thought, her face showing wonder. Growing a bit bolder, she placed her hand on his head, nearly covering it completely, the hair tickling her palm. As Gi and Hca hustled the remaining women out of the lodge, a smile grew on Anpo’s face.

Kathleen felt her worries trickle away at her warrior’s response. When the dark eyes met hers, she could see tears within them and felt her own eyes filling.

“Oh, Ketlin! He is beautiful!” Anpo finally breathed. She stroked the blonde’s cheek. “As are you, mahasanni ki.”

The tears spilled over and Kathleen sobbed in relief even as she laughed. “I am so happy you think so, winuhcala,” she offered by way of explanation.

“But, how could I not, Ketlin?” Anpo wondered. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. And this child is from you.”

Kathleen cried a little harder at the sentiment, a mixture of love and relief and astonishment filling her. She felt the dark woman settle down beside her and gather them into her arms, gently helping to adjust the babe still feeding at her breast. The sleeping robes were brought up to cover the three of them and a song was crooned to her as she cried herself out.

When her woman’s tears had subsided, Anpo leaned back to look at her. “Are you all right, winuhcala?” Her long fingers brushed the tears from her face.

“I am more than all right, Anpo,” Kathleen responded with a smile. “I am very, very happy now.” And then on a whim, she did something she hadn’t done before.

Dark eyes widened as soft lips met hers. They were there for just a moment and then gone. Anpo felt a fluttering in her chest and she peered down at the blonde in her arms. She kissed me!

Having seen the startled look in her warrior’s eyes, Kathleen had broken the kiss but couldn’t resist a shy smile.

It was answered by a silly grin on Anpo’s face. Ketlin kissed me! With no thought, she hugged her woman tightly until a squirming newborn showed his displeasure by grumbling.

The dark woman backed off so quickly, that Kathleen had to laugh. She readjusted their son to the other breast and covered him again. “What will we call him, winuhcala?” The blonde took her warrior’s hand and pulled her close again.

Anpo resettled herself, keeping the new arrival in mind. “I have thought long and hard on this, Ketlin,” she said, watching their son with fond eyes. “Inyan told me he would be stubborn. And it was tatanka ska that brought you and he to me.” She used a finger to brush the dark tuft of hair. “I would like to call him Tatanka Teca.”

Feeling warm and relaxed, Kathleen’s eyes drifted closed. “Tatanka Teca it is then, winuhcala.”

As the blonde fell asleep, their son drowsing as he fed, Anpo held them both close and sang a song of joy to them. Soon her voice faded and the small family slumbered together.

The infant picked up a small stone and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Teca!” Kathleen scooped him up, fingers delving into the small orifice to fish out the offending rock. She tossed it away, settling her son in her lap.

The boy immediately began fussing, wriggling in an attempt to get away from his mother and explore further.

“Give him to me, winuhcala,” Anpo offered with a smile. She set her empty bowl aside and held out her hands. “I am full. You eat now.”

Relieved, the blonde woman handed over their bundle of joy and picked up her half eaten food. She watched with wonder as Teca stopped his cranky behavior, giggling at the faces her warrior made for him. I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been, finding her. Would Adam have made as good a father?

The warrior played with their son as her woman finished eating. He was settled on one bare leg which was moving lightly and causing him to bounce. The baby was still a bit unstable as he sat and Anpo held onto his small hands to keep him upright. “You will be a great pony rider, cinksi,” she informed him.

Teca gurgled his agreement, two bottom teeth shining brightly in the late afternoon sun.

“He will take after his inanup,” Kathleen said with some authority. “He will be a strong warrior and hunter.” Leaning close, she caught the baby’s eye. “Am I right, Teca?”

Dark brown eyes focused on the blonde and the child’s smile widened. He answered with a string of syllables that made no sense, though he was quite adamant in his view.

Laughing, Anpo picked him up and held him high overhead as he squealed with pleasure. “And he will speak many words like his ina. Both Lakota and English.”

There was a sparkle in the blue eyes that looked at the warrior. “Are you saying I talk too much, winuhcala?”

The dark woman brought the baby back down and tucked him into the crook of her arm. “Hiya, Ketlin!” was the mock sincere response. “I would never say that!” Anpo looked down at the child and, in a loud whisper, said, “Remember, Teca. They are winyan and do not make sense.”

A yellow eyebrow raised. “I believe that you are winyan, too,” she suggested.

Anpo’s smile widened and she scooted about to lie down, her head in her woman’s lap and the baby straddling her belly. “But I am a warrior and I make very good sense.” At Kathleen’s look of askance, the dark woman insisted, “It is true! My ate told me so!”

Kathleen shook her head, knowing that there was no winning this ‘argument’. With a smile, she bent closer and brushed her lips across her warrior’s forehead. Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.

The baby rocked, keeping the dark woman’s interest. His movement was a little spasmodic, however, as he was fighting sleep. Anpo began humming softly and pulled the boy forward until he was lying down, his stomach against hers. The song rattled deep in her chest and Teca’s ear, pressed against her sternum, picked it up. He began to relax against her.

“What is Nupa doing?”

With idle strokes along the baby’s back, the warrior turned her head to see what was going on.

Nupa Olowan was pacing in front of Waniyetu Gi’s ti ikceya. Despite the heat of summer, he was fully dressed in decorated moccasins, leggings and shirt, a large buffalo robe wrapped about his shoulders. A quilled breastplate hung down his front, various designs painted along the leather edges in blues and reds. His hair had been neatly combed and braided, three small quills dangling and two larger ones with red tips standing upright. The garish colors on his face seemed to glow in the evening sun, reds and yellows and greens appearing to leap away.

A slow smile crept across Anpo’s face. At last! “He is going to woo my sister.”

“What?” Kathleen looked down in puzzlement. “What was that word again?”

“To woo. He is going to see if she will join with him in the future.”

The blonde repeated the word. Peering back at Gi’s lodge, she could see movement at the tiopa. Nupa continued to pace back and forth. He’s courtin’ her! How wonderful!

Wanbli Zi had been sitting in front of his fire when the koskalaka had approached. He watched with half an eye as the young warrior paced back and forth, moving closer and closer to the entrance of the ti ikceya. The word spread with some speed and soon, others were in front of their lodges, offering their silent support.

Kathleen watched with interest as her friend and stepan, Hca, stepped from the lodge.

The wikoskalaka had a shy smile and she stood demurely just out of reach. Nupa’s pacing continued, inching closer with each pass. And then he pounced. A small scuffle ensued, though it didn’t appear that Hca was making any real attempt at freeing herself. And then it stopped and the warrior wrapped the large robe around the two of them and began speaking softly to her.

“Do not look at them now, Ketlin,” Anpo said, glancing away, herself.

Having gotten quite good at watching without watching, the blonde looked off to one side, seeing the couple out of the corner of her eye. “Do you know what he is telling her?” she asked.

“An old story. I do not know what it is. I think all wicasa decide which story to tell their winyan when the time comes.” Anpo peered down the length of her body and smiled. The baby was sleeping peacefully on her belly, a thumb planted firmly in his mouth.

Kathleen leaned back a little, using her left hand to support herself. The other idly brushed hair from her winuhca’s forehead. “What happens now? Do they join like we did?”

“Hiya. First he will visit a few more times, woo my cuwekala in a manner fitting to a Lakota maiden. Then a price will be settled between Wanbli and Nupa’s family. When that is paid, a feast will be had and then they will join as we did.”

After considering this, the pale woman peered down at Anpo. “But you did not do this with me because I had been given to you, a slave?”

“Ohan, winuhcala. You were not a Lakota maiden. There were no family members to negotiate a price or have a feast.” She looked up and lost herself in dark blue pools. “I would have wooed you, Ketlin, had I been able. I would have let you see how much I love you.”

“I love you, too, Anpo,” was the soft reply. “Very, very much.”

And then they engaged in the same thing that a newly betrothed couple nearby were involved in. Lips met in a long kiss, tongues exploring familiar ground gently.

When the couple broke off, it was with two breathless sighs. Kathleen kept her eyes closed and leaned her forehead against her warrior’s. “I do so enjoy kissing you, winuhcala.” Now if I could just figure out what to do next.... A flash of sensation, Anpo’s lips teasing her throat and shoulders, caused the blonde to shiver.

An impish grin crossed Anpo’s face. “Not as much as I enjoy kissing you, winuhcala.” Her heart fluttered at the thought of tasting her woman’s skin. I do not know how to proceed. “I will ask Inyan for his counsel in this matter.”

Teca chose this moment to shift his position, putting him precariously close to sliding off his inanup’s stomach.

The warrior caught the baby and eased him back into place.

“Let me take him,” Kathleen said, seeing the problem. “I will put him in his sleeping robes. He should sleep for the night.”

Anpo leaned her head forward to allow the blonde to rise. When Teca was removed, she felt a chill where he’d been lying. Now that she was unburdened, she sat up and stretched, reaching for her pipe and tobacco.

The pale woman, having put their cinksi to bed, returned with a smile and scooped up their dirty bowls. “I will wash these now.”

Watching Kathleen walk away, the warrior considered the draw she felt from the swaying of her woman’s hips. Ohan. I will talk to Inyan about this. She pulled a glowing ember from the fire and lit her pipe, studiously ignoring her friend and sister seated at her father’s fire.

“That is an interesting question, wikoskalaka.” Inyan Ceye’s face was serious and his dark eyes scanned the horizon. He and Anpo were on their ponies, riding with the rest of their people towards the summer camp.

The warrior nodded in return. “I feel that there is more, wicahcala. I do not know how to explain it.”

“It is true that there is more with a wicasa and winyan, Anpo. You know this as well as I.” The shaman looked closely at her. “Have you been with any of the koskalaka?”

Anpo shrugged. “Hiya. I was never interested. I have never felt this way towards them, not even Nupa!” She pursed her lips in consternation. “If Ketlin or I were a wicasa, I would know how to proceed. But we are not.”

Seeing the shoulders slump in dejection, Inyan reached out to pat her arm. “When we reach summer camp, I will seek a vision on this matter, Anpo. Do not worry yourself.”

“I will try, wicahcala,” the warrior said, though she didn’t sound convinced.

“And how is Teca?” the shaman asked, purposely changing the subject.

Anpo’s face lit up. “He is growing fast, wicahcala! His teeth are coming in so he is not happy, but I gave him some rawhide to chew on and he likes that.”

“I have seen him in passing. Except for his coloring, he looks very much like his ina.”

“Ohan!” the warrior agreed, warming to another of her favorite subjects. “I think so, too. Ketlin says he looks like me, though.”

Inyan smiled. “It is fitting that a child should look like both his parents.” His smile widened at the emphatic nod. “It is also fitting that a child should have such love from both his parents.”

Anpo colored slightly though she grinned in response.

Teca was enjoying the complete attention of his unci as she shook a rattle at him. He laughed and rocked, his arms flailing in his excitement. Nearby, Ketlin and Hca served the evening meal to the three warriors at Wanbli Zi’s fire.

“Your cinksi grows strong, tanksi,” Nupa commented, watching the proceedings. He accepted a piece of frybread from his betrothed with a smile.

As her friend wrapped boiled meat into his bread, Anpo grinned with pride. “Teca will be a fine warrior when he is a wicasa.” Taking a bite of her food, she saw her ate nod in agreement.

“He is much like you at that age, Anpo. Very alert and curious.”

“We will have strong children, too, Hca,” the young warrior said to his betrothed who blushed and smiled, casting a sidelong look at him. “Many strong cinksi and beautiful cunksi!”

Blowing on a piece of meat to cool it, Kathleen considered the young couple at the fire. She had heard the stories, the beliefs that Nupa and Anpo would eventually join. Popping the meat into her mouth, the blonde chewed in thought. Is Nupa wanting Hca because she looks so much like her sister? Dark blue eyes noted the strong resemblance between the siblings. It would make sense. She poured some of the broth into a bowl for Teca. Once the grease had been skimmed off the top, she would soak some bread in it for him to eat.

Gi smashed a berry between her fingers and brushed the pulp onto the baby’s tongue. With great pleasure, Teca gummed the treat. He shook his rattle, demanding more.

“Ah, you like berries,” the old woman said with a smile. Another bit of fruit found its way to the waiting child. “Teca has a liking for sweet things,” Gi announced to the others.

“Just as his inanup,” the blonde woman offered with a grin at her warrior.

Anpo reached with lightning speed and pulled her winuhca into her arms. Falling backwards and tickling her unmercifully, she called, “Ohan, Ketlin! And you are the sweetest!”

While the pair roughhoused, Kathleen blushing furiously but tickling back for all she was worth, Gi shook her head and clucked. “Your parents are both crazy, takoja.”

Teca decided to forego the berries as he watched his parents play. Gurgling happily, he began crawling towards them, his gait still unsteady, intent on joining the fun. He was intercepted by Hca, however, and showed his displeasure by trying to get down.

It was his voice that halted the tickle free-for-all. Both parents stopped to check on their cinksi, verifying that he was all right.

Kathleen held out her arms. “Give him to me, stepan. He is probably hungry.” As expected, when the baby was in his ina’s arms, he began tugging on the front of her cuwignaka. The blonde bared one breast and helped her son begin to suckle.

Watching her winuhca scoot closer to her meal and return to eating, Anpo sat up and dusted herself off. She picked up a meaty bone and began to chew on it. “The Sun Dance begins tomorrow. After it is done, I will hunt for more food.”

Wanbli Zi nodded solemnly. “That would be good, cunksi. The tatanka have been few this season. It has been too hot. I am afraid we will not have enough food for winter.”

“Do you think it will be that bad, wicahcala?” Nupa asked, his own face turning serious.

“It has been many, many winters since the last lean one. But it has happened before,” the elder said. “I fear it will happen again.”

“Nupa and I will go hunting after the dance,” Anpo announced, seeing her friend nod in response. “All that we can collect for our people will be needed.”

The thought of attending the Sun Dance chilled Kathleen. Memories of her warrior falling to her knees in the dust, blood pouring from her chest and back, still plagued her sleep. As the conversation washed over her, the blonde looked down to her son. Will you dance for the sun when you are older, Teca? Will you hurt yourself to show your thanks for a favor from the spirits? Will it be worth it?

Teca drowsed as he suckled, his eyelids drooping.

Despite her misgivings, the four days of the festival were good ones. Kathleen found that it was far more enjoyable this time around now that she knew the language better and her warrior was beside her. The dark woman spent their time at the celebrations, teaching her the many songs required by the spirits and trying to explain the reasonings behind their practices.

All children who had been born over the last year were gathered together at one point. Teca found himself surrounded by babies and he eyed them all with avid curiosity. When Inyan Ceye picked him up, the baby frowned a little but didn’t fuss. Not until the awl was pushed through his earlobe and a small piece of sinew inserted to keep it from growing back. And then he was placed in his inanup’s hands, tears of anger and pain coursing down his tiny face.

Anpo comforted her cinksi, jostling him and distracting him with berries. As he snuffled and gummed the fruit, still cross, she said, “You will be a strong and proud warrior, Teca.”

“Like his inanup,” Kathleen added softly. The blonde gently wiped the tears from the baby’s face.

Hearing his mother’s voice, Teca immediately demanded to be taken into her arms, leaning his body precariously out towards her. He cried and babbled in Kathleen’s arms while his inanup wrapped them both in her long arms and held them.

When Teca had cried himself out and was nursing in emotional exhaustion, Anpo led her woman towards the largest lodge in the camp. “It is time for the Sun Dance, winuhcala.”

With great reluctance, Kathleen followed.

Watching the Sun Dance itself still gave her shivers. The blonde wished that she were anywhere but in that huge ti ikceya watching those men mutilate themselves in the name of their wakan tanka. She was glad that Teca was asleep in her arms and not witnessing the carnage.

It was decidedly easier to watch than the first one. Her warrior was behind her, hands on her shoulders and whispering in her ear the belief behind many of their actions. But with the first cut on the first dancer, Kathleen shivered and dropped her eyes.

Feeling her woman stiffen, Anpo looked down. “Ketlin?”

The blonde head shook. “It is nothing, winuhcala. I will speak of it later.”

Concerned, Anpo could only nod in agreement. “Ohan, winuhcala.” And then a cheer from the gathered people gained her attention and her dark eyes returned to the dancing field.

Later that evening, as stars filled the night sky and the regular dancing continued on with the younger people at the council fire, the small family settled at their own. Teca was curled up on a robe beside the warrior, sleeping soundly. Smoking her pipe, Anpo watched her winuhca sew a pair of small moccasins for their son.

“Why did you not watch the Sun Dance, Ketlin?” she finally asked.

Ah, here it comes. Kathleen braced herself, not looking at the dark woman before her. “I.... I do not think it is... needed. To hurt yourself for the spirits.”

Dark brows rose in surprise. “Not needed?”

The blonde head shook and she kept her eyes focused on the small pieces of leather before her. “Ohan, Anpo. Not needed.”

Frowning, Anpo puffed on her pipe in thought. Not needed. “If the spirits give me a gift, a favor, how else would I repay them?”

“I do not know, winuhcala.”

There was further silence as the warrior digested this strange idea and her woman fervently wished the discussion had never come up. The baby, sensing the tension from his ina in his sleep, fussed a bit on the edge of wakefulness. He calmed after Anpo rubbed his belly with her fingers and soon he was slumbering once again.

“What do your people believe in, Ketlin? Do they believe in wakan tanka?”

Kathleen chewed her upper lip. Well, now ye’ve gone and put yer foot in it, lass! Nothin’ like a bit of religious differences to complicate things! “My people believe in God, Anpo. He is very powerful and mysterious, like your wakan tanka. He knows everything and is in everything.”

“It is a man?” The dark woman shook her head at that. “How can your God be a man? How can he know everything and be everything if he is only of one sex?”

“I do not know, winuhcala. But that is what my people believe in.” The blonde thought a moment. “He is not a man. He just... is.” A Bible verse came into her head. “He is the beginning and the end. He is in all things.”

Anpo tapped the bowl of her spent pipe into the fire. This is very confusing. “Is this God in me, then?”

“He is in all things, Anpo. Even you.”

Leaning forward and peering intently at her woman, the warrior asked, “Then why has he not spoken to me? Why has he never given me a vision?”

The blonde shrugged, discomfited with the conversation. “I do not know, winuhcala. He does not talk to everyone. He only speaks to those special wicasa who are shamans.”

Anpo sat back. “He only speaks to shamans? To special wicasa? Not winyan?”

“There have been women He has spoken to. There was a woman once who led many warriors in a war party. Her name was Joan of Arc and it is said that she heard His voice.”

Always interested in other women warriors, Anpo leaned forward. “Really?” The warrior nodded in grudging respect. “She must have been very sacred. Did she win the war?”

“Ohan, she did.”

“Your people must have been very proud of her.”

A miserable look crossed Kathleen’s face. “Hiya, Anpo. The people killed her a year later.”

“But... but, why? She was a shamaness and a warrior! The spirits - your God - had shown her much honor, helped her win the war!”

“Because most did not believe she heard God’s voice.”

Silence reigned around the fire once again as the warrior considered this. Kathleen diligently focused on the small moccasins, refusing to look at her winuhca.

Anpo’s low voice drifted across the fire. “Do your people ask favors of your God?”

“Ohan, we do.” Dark blue eyes peered up, caught by dark brown.

“And are these favors granted?”

Kathleen shrugged slightly with one shoulder. “Sometimes. Only if He deems it so.”

The dark brow furrowed. “Then how do you repay your God for his help?”

How do we? the blonde thought. Her eyes drifted to the fire, trying to find an answer in the flames. Finally, she said, “I do not know, winuhcala. We serve Him and pray to Him and be good for Him.”

Anpo nodded slowly. “When we ask the spirits for their aid, they give it to us. But, that is because we are willing to give back anything we can for their help. For very special reasons, a few do the Sun Dance to show their thanks to wakan tanka.” There was a pause as the warrior mused, staring into the fire. “Perhaps your God does not answer your prayers because you do not show him thanks.”

Sighing, Kathleen responded, “Perhaps, Anpo. I do not know. It is not my place.”

“I love you, winuhcala. But I do not like your God.”

A ghost of a smile crossed the blonde’s lips. “I love you, also, winuhcala. Let us not talk of God or spirits any more.”

The warrior nodded. “No more talk of God or spirits.”

Very close by, the sound of flute music could be heard and Kathleen turned towards it. “That is not at the council fire. Who could it be?”

Thankful for the change of topic, Anpo smiled. “That is Nupa. He is wooing my cuwe.”

“He is?” By serenading her! How sweet!

“Ohan. She will go to him and they will talk long into the night together.” A smirk crossed the dark face. “Among other things.”

A blush tinted Kathleen’s fair skin. “And what ‘other things’ would there be, warrior?” she asked, setting the leather and rawhide to one side.

Reaching out a hand, Anpo pulled the woman and guided her to sit close. Wrapping long arms around her, she whispered, “Things like this.” And their lips met in a long kiss, their hearts reaching for one another in the evening light.

“Hau, Anpo.”

The warrior looked up from the arrow she was painting to see the shaman moving closer. Setting the weapon down, she rose with a smile and waved him closer. “Han, wicahcala. Come sit by my fire.”

Inyan Ceye nodded and stepped forward to settle down on the warrior’s left. He accepted a waterskin that was handed to him and he looked around the ti ikceya idly. “Where is your winyan, wikoskalaka?”

“She has taken Teca to the river to play. Would you have something to eat?” and she held out some wansi.

“Thank you, Anpo.”

The pair were silent for a moment, as the shaman ate and drank. Anpo pulled out her pipe and prepared it, lighting it with an ember from the fire before them. After she’d taken a puff, she handed it stem first to Inyan.

The shaman accepted the pipe and smoked. Around them the camp continued on its daily routines. It was afternoon and hot. Most of the women and children were at the river nearby, taking the opportunity to cool off. The elders were most likely seated in the shade of the council lodge, discussing the winter camps.

“I have sought a vision for you, wikoskalaka,” Inyan finally said, tapping the pipe into the firepit and handed it back to her.

Anpo nodded, taking her pipe and putting it away. “Did the spirits speak to you?”

“Hau, they did.” He frowned as he considered. “I saw the igmu pacing round and round in a cave. And then she rose on her hind feet and tried to walk like a wicasa, but she was unable. It was awkward and she fell to her paws four times. Then, another igmu came into the cave, one with a lighter coloring and blue eyes. The two animals circled each other for a very long time.” Inyan shook his head. “But soon they relaxed with each other and lay down together.”

There was a pause. When no further words were forthcoming, Anpo asked, “But what does the vision mean, wicahcala? Do you know?”

“You have spent your entire life doing men’s work, you even have your own winyan and wakanyeja. But you are not koskalaka and there are things that you cannot do.” Aged eyes peered into hers. “I believe that the vision means you must find your own path, Anpo.”

The warrior frowned at the elder. “Find my own path?”

“Hau, wikoskalaka. You love Ketlin and she loves you. I cannot tell you how to become more intimate; only the two of you can do this.” Inyan sighed and spread out his hands. “Do what is in your nature, Anpo, not what is in the nature of wicasa.”

The dark woman nodded slowly in thought. Finally, she looked to her guest, a small smile playing across her face. “Thank you, wicahcala, for your wisdom in this matter.”

“My heart is glad to give it, Anpo.”

Kathleen returned from the river with a cheery and very wet baby. She saw the shaman speaking seriously with her warrior. I wonder what that’s about? It was very rare to see Inyan at their fire. Not wishing to disturb them, the blonde tried to duck into the ti ikceya but Teca would have none of it. Upon seeing his favorite warrior, he started babbling and holding out his arms.

Anpo looked over her shoulder to see her family behind her. Her face creased in a smile. “Han, winuhcala! Han, cinksi!” She patted the robe beside her. “Bring Teca to me!”

“He is still very wet,” Kathleen warned with a grin. She stepped forward and settled the squirming baby down.

Teca immediately began working on getting into his inanup’s lap, grunting with the effort. He rolled to his stomach from sitting and crawled unsteadily forward until he was draped across her tanned thigh. Unable to get much further, he started to get angry and squalled.

Laughing, the warrior picked him up and tucked him into the crook of her arm. “You were right, wicahcala, when you said he was stubborn!” she exclaimed. “When Teca decides he wants something, he will do whatever he needs to get it!”

“A very strong young hoksila,” Inyan answered, a smile on his face. He peered down at the baby, solemn dark eyes returning his gaze. The shaman looked to the blonde woman. “He looks very much like his ina.”

Tinting a little, Kathleen returned his smile with a shy one. “And his inanup,” she insisted, kneeling down beside her warrior and touching her shoulder. She was rewarded with a smile from Anpo.

“I must go now.” Inyan gathered himself and rose to his feet, the small family doing the same.

With the baby on one arm, Anpo used the other to reach out and grasp the elder’s forearm. “Thank you again, wicahcala.”

The shaman returned the grasp, using his free hand to pat Anpo’s. “Remember, wikoskalaka. Be happy.”

“I will.” And the warrior glanced over her shoulder to her woman standing curiously behind her. “Ketlin and I both will.”

Nodding in satisfaction, the old man walked away.

Watching him go, Kathleen moved closer and draped her arm about the warrior’s waist. “Why was he here?” she asked.

“I asked Inyan to seek a vision for us, to help us know what to do.”

“What to do...?” The blonde frowned as she mused. Blue eyes suddenly widened when she made the connection. “You mean.... um.... What to do between us?” At the resulting nod, she blushed furiously. Do these people know how to keep a secret!?

A puzzled smile crossed the warrior’s face as she watched the response. “Ohan, Ketlin. I told you I would talk to Inyan on this matter.” The dark brow furrowed despite the smile. “What is wrong?”

“I just.... um....” and Kathleen’s voice trailed off as she looked away. She disengaged herself from the warrior and began tidying up the hearth. “It is just.... Among my people we do not discuss such things.”

She is ashamed! Because I spoke with the shaman? Anpo looked down at their son who was blissfully playing with the bone necklace she wore. “Your people seem very strange to me, winuhcala,” the warrior finally said as she settled back down. “How do you get along without the wisdom of your elders?”

Kathleen blew out a breath. How indeed, lass?

Anpo rode into Wagmiza Wagna’s camp, worried about her failure. This had been one of many scouting attempts since they’d left the summer camp nearly a moon past and there was still no sign of tatanka. The food levels hadn’t dropped enough to worry the people yet, which was not necessarily a good thing. The warrior had spread the word to the other koskalaka of the elder’s memories, anyway, memories of a time when there was not enough food, when a harsh winter had killed many. And now a handful of those young warriors who believed her headed out every day, looking for the animal that was their life’s blood.

As she neared her woman’s lodge, the warrior located the other two scouts that had gone out that day with her. Both shook their head in silence and she felt her spirits drop just a little more. We will need at least two more good hunts to make it through the winter.

The sound of Teca’s fussing drifted to her ears as she stopped in front of the ti ikceya. She slid from the wooden saddle with a sigh and untied the two rabbits hanging from it. The warrior dropped the carcasses by the fire and ducked into the lodge.

Kathleen looked up at the change of light and shadow inside. Her face reflected her exhaustion and relief. Their son was in her arms, tears in his eyes and his ina’s finger gently massaging his tortured gums. “Han, winuhcala,” she said softly.

“Han, winuhcala.” Anpo knelt down beside her family, a hand gently rubbing her woman’s shoulder as she peered down at the baby. “His teeth are still hurting him,” she said.

“Ohan, Anpo. And they will for awhile.” The blonde sighed and dipped her fingers into a bowl of water that was slightly cooler than the ti ikceya before returning them to Teca’s mouth.

“Have you spoken with the medicine man? Maybe he has something to help.”

Kathleen nodded. “Ohan, I have. Hca is with him now. He is going to give me something to help numb the pain and ease his stomach and fever.”

Seeing his inanup, Teca mumbled over his mother’s finger and reached out a small, pudgy hand.

Anpo smiled at him, taking his hand and shaking it gently. “Han, cinksi.” She caressed his head and face. “You are a strong young warrior and brave.”

The baby seemed to agree with her, mumbling further and easing up on his whimpering. Kathleen used the opportunity to wipe his face clean of the tears before replacing her finger in his mouth.

As the warrior watched and rubbed their son’s arm, she said, “I have brought two rabbits to eat. I will skin them a little later.”

“And I will fix them for our meal tonight. Maybe roasted with the wagmu ohanpi?”

“That would be good, Ketlin.” The warrior kissed her woman’s temple, returning the gentle smile that was bestowed upon her.

There was a sound of wood on wood as someone knocked against the stick holding the leather covering across the tiopa.

“Ketlin? I have what you needed from He,” Hca’s voice called.

With a final squeeze of Kathleen’s shoulder, the dark woman rose and made her way out of the ti ikceya. She held the covering aside for her cuwe, closing it behind Hca and going to her pony. There, she removed the saddle and halter, sending the horse to the remainder of the herd with a gentle slap on his withers. Anpo then settled down beside the fire to begin skinning the animals.

After a few minutes, Hca and Ketlin both left the lodge, the baby on his ina’s hip. The darker woman smiled and waved at Anpo before turning away towards her own mother’s ti ikceya. As the warrior finished with the butchering, her woman neared the fire and set Teca down. The child promptly crawled closer to his inanup to see what she was doing.

Taking a moment to wipe her hands, the warrior scooped up the baby and held him high as she peered at him with a grin. “You are looking much happier, cinksi,” she said.

Teca responded with a giggle and chattered at her. There was an excess of drool coming from his lips, but he appeared to be over the worst of the pain.

“He had an ointment that numbed Teca’s mouth,” Kathleen informed her as she set water to boil. “And he gave me a tea to make that will help with his stomach and fever.”

Anpo settled the baby in her lap and returned to her work, giving him a fine view of the proceedings. “Does the medicine man know how long this will last?”

The blonde turned to watch her two favorite people. “Hiya. Sometimes it lasts many moons and other times it is over sooner. There is no way to know.” There was silence for a few moments as the animals were skinned. “Did you find tatanka?”

Anpo’s face turned solemn. “Hiya, I did not. And the others did not as well.” Brown eyes looked up to the blonde. “I am afraid we will not have enough for the winter.”

“Teca will have enough,” Kathleen vowed.

Their eyes locked.

“Ohan, winuhcala. I swear it, too.”

From a distance, a voice could be heard. “Anpo!”

The warrior broke their gaze to look for the speaker, finding a young hoksila of about eight running towards the fire. The boy stopped at a respectful distance and waited for Anpo to wave him closer.

“My cousin, Nupa, would like you to go to your father’s fire,” he said, excitement in his voice.

A grin slowly grew across the handsome face and the dark woman nodded. “I will be there soon.”

The hoksila smiled as he turned away. “I will tell him!” And then he pelted off.

An amused look was on Kathleen’s face as she looked back and forth between her winuhca and the disappearing boy. “What is it?”

Anpo finished with the rabbits, wiping her hands quickly. She rose, swinging Teca up into the air and holding him high. “Nupa wants to talk to me about a price for my cuwekala!” she exclaimed to the shrieking baby.

“Oh! That is wonderful!” the blonde responded happily.

“Ohan, it is!” The dark wikoskalaka brought the child back down and looked about. “You and I will go to my ate’s fire. You will help with the feast while I speak with Nupa and his family.”

Kathleen took the water from the fire and rose. “I will make the best rabbit stew,” she proclaimed as she put the newly dressed meat in a basket to carry. They then made their way to the fire of Wanbli Zi.

Nupa’s father, Wi Sape, was already seated in the honored place to the left of Wanbli Zi. Also in attendance was Hca’s only other male relative in the camp, a cousin named Magaju Ahi. Upon their arrival, Kathleen offered to take their son with a questioning look.

The warrior shook her head with a grin. “Teca will stay with me for now.”

The blonde nodded with a smile and approached the cluster of women at the front of Waniyetu Gi’s lodge. A blushing Hca pulled Kathleen into the ti ikceya, followed by the others.

Anpo ignored the giggling from her mother’s lodge and settled down at her ate’s fire with a grin and a nod. “Han,” she said, settling Teca in her lap.

There were murmured greetings all around the fire.

With his youngest daughter now present, Wanbli Zi nodded a greeting before lighting the pipe he held in his hand. Eyes twinkling, he smoked before offering it to Anpo with a wink. The pipe made its slow way around the circle in silence, a ritual of calming and focusing.

Just within earshot several hoksila, to include Nupa’s young cousin, hovered with avid curiosity. Teca ignored the boring proceedings, preferring to play with the necklace hanging from his inanup’s neck. He babbled to himself softly.

Once the smoking was finished and the bowl tapped into the firepit, Sape spoke. “My cinksi, Nupa, would like to offer the ate of his betrothed six fine buffalo hides for her.”

Wanbli nodded and looked to his kin. “My cunksi, Hca, is worth that and far much more,” he said.

“Ohan,” Anpo agreed, nodding with her cousin. “This shirt I wear was made and painted by her. She is a good worker and her fingers are very agile.”

Sape considered this for a moment. “Seven buffalo hides. And a shield of rabbit hide.”

“Does my hankasi have her own lodge?” Ahi asked. “Or will Nupa become a buried man by living at Wanbli’s fire?”

“Nupa would only be buried long enough for my cuwe’s ti ikceya to be completed. It is nearly done now.” Anpo jostled the baby in her lap as he began to get bored and fuss a bit. “My ina and winuhca would both help in this matter.”

“I do not want my cinksi living as a buried man for long,” Sape frowned. “The offer stands.”

Wanbli considered this. His nephew drank from a waterskin and passed it to him. The elder drank deeply before handing it off to his cunksi. Looking to both of his kin, his dark eyes begged the question.

Ahi shrugged and nodded his head in one firm movement.

The dark woman looked to Sape. “The joining could be delayed until the lodge is complete,” she suggested. “I could ask my ina how much longer it will be.”

Nupa’s father thought for a moment, his face clearly showing his acceptance. “If it is good, Nupa will pay the price and wait until Hca’s ti ikceya is done before the joining.”

“It is good,” Wanbli Zi firmly responded.

The two older men rose, smiles on their faces, as they shook each other’s forearms. The nearby hoksila, full of new gossip, whooped and raced off to spread the word of the impending union.

The remainder of the evening consisted of a feast held at Wanbli Zi’s fire. Most of the camp dropped in at one point or another to help the couple celebrate the agreement, but the primary revelers were the immediate families. The hides and shield were delivered by Nupa himself, the rest of his family in tow. The winyan cooked and dealt with the young ones while the wicasa sat at the fire to talk, the hoksila hanging on their every word.

As she had promised, Kathleen produced a magnificent rabbit stew for the meal. The other women were amazed at her use of spices, it being different from their own usual fare. Many times through the cooking process, she was quizzed by elders and wikoskalaka alike.

Teca eventually found his way back to his ina’s side. When he wasn’t suckling, he was held close to her body in a sling like piece of leather. There were a few interruptions because of his teething, but the ointment and the tea seemed to help the worst of it.

The proud woman warrior laughed and joked with the rest of the wicasa, happy with the knowledge that her best friend and her cuwe were going to join. A niggling tiny bit of jealousy was rooted out as she realized that Hca and Nupa both would have less time for her. But then Anpo saw the couple looking at each other with love in their eyes and set the negative feelings aside. They will be very happy together! Her eyes found Kathleen’s. As we are!

Chapter 8

Sunka Wakan Natan Ahi
(shoon-kah wah-kahn nah-tahn ah-hee)

The Year of the Horses

1780

Wi Ile Anpo leaned against a large boulder, a leather shirt borrowed from another koskalaka in one hand. Beside her were a handful of hoksila and other warriors including her sic'e, Nupa Olowan. Across the box canyon were more warriors, waiting as she with implements of clothing in their hands.

"How is my cuwe?" the woman asked to pass the time.

Nupa smiled. "She is well, tanksi. The sickness has gone away now." Laughing, he added, "Teca will soon have a cousin to play with!"

Chuckling, Anpo shook her head ruefully. "My cinksi will have to wait some time. Your child needs a few moons to prepare."

"What has he done now?" a man nearby asked, a corner of his lips curled with humor.

"When I returned from fishing yesterday, I found him covered with corn meal and Ketlin swearing in her language!" She laughed. "He wished to see what was in the basket and poured it over himself!"

Around them, the others joined in their laughter. Teca's escapades were rapidly becoming legendary among them all.

"I know that you and I were always getting in trouble, tanksi," Nupa exclaimed, "but did you start so young?"

"I tease my winuhca that I was a good child and that our son must take after her." Anpo chuckled, "And she agrees with me! Ketlin tells me stories of her childhood and always wonders how her ina survived the ordeal!"

One of the warriors, a member of the pair's pack when they were children, piped up, "I wonder how your ina survived the ordeal!" He peered down at a younger sibling with a grin.

"As do I!" another called from further down the line, his voice ringing over the laughter.

Anpo grinned. "As do I," she agreed mischievously.

"Listen!" Nupa interrupted, holding his hand up.

The party quieted, eyes becoming alert as they scanned around the canyon. Across the entrance, their comrades were obviously hearing the same as they. A low rumble echoed off the canyon walls, growing louder as the cause moved closer.

Heads turned this way and that as they scanned the distance. First one, then another found a cloud of dust that was nearing them. Fingers pointed, words called to warn the remainder of the warriors.

"There!" Anpo called, pointing at the brown haze in the blue sky. "They are almost here!" She picked up a length of rope that was coiled at her feet, throwing it across her shoulder.

Around the wikoskalaka the other warriors were doing the same. Most of the boys were holding their shirts firmly in their hands, grim looks on their young faces as they prepared to help the warriors with their task.

Their preparations were halted with the appearance of nearly a hundred horses, rounding the bend and heading right for them. The wild herd raced past the people, eyes wide in terror. Behind them, making an awful racket of howling and hooting and banging on drums, rode the rest of the camp's wicasa.

Once the last of the animals and riders were in the box canyon, the two groups of warriors and hoksila raced together. They stretched into a line across the opening, waving their shirts and keeping the animals penned inside. While the boys continued their distractions, the warriors dropped the clothing and pelted into the canyon, pulling free their ropes. Many of the mounted warriors had jumped from their own steeds, tying them near the hoksila. They, too, had ropes out and began taking possession of the wild horses.

It was a loud and dusty chaos in the small canyon. Anpo almost felt alone within it, despite the obvious calls of her friends around her. A fine looking spotted mare cantered nervously past, her dark eyes rolling in anxiety, and the wikoskalaka threw her rope over its neck.

The animal reared and whinnied in fear, trying to pull away but unable. The dark woman increased the pressure on the rope, pulling the large head down and not allowing the mare an opportunity to pull up again. Once Anpo was sure of her capture she pulled the pony to a small boulder, wrapping the rope around the base with one quick turn and tying it off. A quick slice with a knife and she had enough rope for another attempt.

The second horse she took was a stallion, a deep reddish brown in color. He was a bit tougher to hold, however, and threw her to the ground once in his desire to be free. The warrior held on for dear life and managed to bring the animal under control. With a bit of tugging, she pulled him to the spotted mare to tie him off.

Again the knife came out and cut the rope, but there wasn't enough remaining for her to seek another. Looking out over the canyon, she could see that there were few animals left anyway. I will give the mare to my mahasanni ki, she thought, turning back to her horses.

As the dust began to settle, Anpo could see a shadowy form on the other side of the spotted mare. Frowning, she moved closer, mindful of the stallion's hooves and trying to get a clearer view. When she saw what was there, a smile crossed her face. With slow, measured movements, the warrior took the remaining rope and made it into a loop.

"And I will give you to my cinksi," she told the grey colt as she eased closer.

The smaller animal was skittish, his tail swishing in agitation. He sidestepped the wikoskalaka twice, not wanting her near but not wanting to be away from his mother. Anpo was persistent, though, and finally was able to collar him, holding a bit of the leftover rope as a leash.

Looking over the colt, she grinned. "Teca will be very happy to see you," she told it.

The colt eyed her nervously before stepping forward with caution to nudge his mother's teat. Still skittish, the mare allowed his feeding, one rear leg slightly lifted and ready to strike out to protect her young.

Smug, Anpo looked over her new ponies. "Ohan. One for Teca, one for Ketlin and one for me."

The camp meandered along its path, stretching for nearly half a mile. Behind them lay the past two winters, one of famine and one of feast. And before them was summer camp, stretched out in a distant valley between two river forks.

Kathleen led a pony, her lodge suspended between two large logs and dragging along after. Beside her was another pony, this one with a pregnant woman upon it.

"Oh, I am so happy the sickness is gone, stepan," Hca Wanahca said with a relieved sigh. She smiled down at her friend. "I do not know how you survived it!"

Grinning, the blonde woman scratched a tan shoulder. "I do not think my sickness was as hard as yours, Hca. And I was frightened much of the time - I believe that I did not pay as much attention to it as you."

The dark woman shrugged a little and shook her head dismissively. "Still, Ketlin. Your sickness was hard enough to call the medicine man."

Kathleen nodded, her mind casting back to her own pregnancy. She sent a silent prayer for the old man, He Osni, who had died that following terrible winter. "As was yours, stepan."

Hca patted her large belly with a chuckle. "As was mine," she agreed. There was a sudden, breathless pause and her smile turned adoring. "Stepan!" she said, waving the blonde closer. "Feel! The baby is kicking!"

Having gone through this many times in the last few months, Kathleen nonetheless put up her hand and let it be guided to the area in question. Feeling the spasms beneath her palm, she rubbed it gently and said, "It is moving very much. I think you will have a strong boy."

"Oh, I hope so!" Hca answered, her eyes showing her excitement. "Nupa would be so happy to have a cinksi!" She thought for a moment. "He would be happy with a cunksi, too," she allowed.

Laughing, the lighter woman said, "But a cinksi would be better."

Hca blushed a little, though her smile was still in place as she nodded. "Ohan, it would."

"Well, if you give birth to a girl, you can always make more," Kathleen offered.

"Ohan. And we will!"

The pair giggled as they continued on their way. The sound of hoofbeats garnered their attention and the women looked around to see their warriors returning from the rear of the moving camp.

"Han, winuhcala!" Anpo called as she neared, coming to a halt beside her woman. Beside her, Nupa did the same.

"Hau, ina!" a small voice piped up.

"Han, my two warriors," Kathleen responded, smiling. She pulled her pony to a stop as Hca and Nupa continued on their way. Holding up her arms, she caught their son, Tatanka Teca, as he dived off the back of his inanup's horse. "Did you have a good ride, cinksi?"

"Hau, ina!" the toddler nodded, a huge grin on his dark face. He hugged his mother's neck with one arm, waving the other at the warrior who was dismounting. "inanup pony big!"

"Very big," Anpo agreed. She heard their son repeat her words as she bent down for a welcoming kiss. "And we went very far," she informed Kathleen with mock seriousness.

"Very far," Teca agreed.

Looking from her winuhca to Teca, the blonde tsked gently. "You must be hungry, cinksi." The solemn nod she received in answer caused her to quirk her mouth. "Come then. We will find you something to eat."

As Kathleen turned to approach the household strapped on her pony's back, the boy tugged at her dress. "Want you."

"Hiya, Teca. Later tonight when we make camp. You know I cannot travel with you like that anymore."

Before the toddler could make an issue of it, Anpo scooped him up and tossed him into the air. The child screeched in pleasure. "You are very big, cinksi!" she proclaimed as she caught him in her arms.

He giggled up at the dark woman and tugged on one of her braids. "I very big!"

"Ohan!" the blonde agreed. "You will be a tall and strong warrior, Teca."

"Big warrior!"

"Big warrior!" Anpo repeated, swinging the child around as he laughed.

Thankful for the distraction, Kathleen approached her packed lodge and rummaged about in one of the baskets for something to eat. Pulling out some wansi and leftover frybread from breakfast, she called her family closer.

The warrior settled Teca onto the household, in a spot designed specifically for him to sit in while they moved. The toddler got comfortable and took the pemmican and bread handed to him. Kathleen found a waterskin and set it close. As they ate, the camp continued to move, passing around them.

"Nupa and I are going to scout to the west," Anpo stated as she chewed her food. "If there is any game, we will hunt and bring it for tonight's feast."

Kathleen nodded. "May the spirits lead you true."

"Want to go!" the toddler demanded, spilling half the wansi from his mouth as he spoke.

The blonde cocked an eye at her woman. It's all yours....

"Hiya, Teca. You will stay with your ina." The warrior braced herself for the child's attack.

"Want to go!" The tiny face began to screw up in anger and frustration, his food forgotten.

The warrior rolled her dark eyes and sighed. "Hiya! You will stay with your ina." He is more than stubborn. Refusing to show any weariness at fighting with the toddler, Anpo leaned forward. "Do you wish to ride again with me, cinksi?"

Not understanding the relevance, Teca blinked at her, his emotional tempest pausing. "Hau, inanup."

"You stay here with your ina. When I return, I will take you riding again today."

The child considered this option with some seriousness. Riding with his second mother was always fun. And two times!? "I sleep?" he finally asked, eyes flickering back and forth between his parents.

Kathleen found two pairs of eyes regarding her. With a sigh she shook her head. Such negotiations for only two and a half! "Hiya, Teca. You do not have to sleep. Just ride here for awhile while inanup is away."

"And I will take you on another ride, cinksi," the warrior exclaimed with a smile.

Apparently deciding that it was a good trade off, Teca nodded. "Hau, inanup." And then he scooped up his pemmican and began to eat again as if nothing had occurred.

Kathleen mentally wiped her brow at another temper tantrum averted. Was I ever that mule-headed? She could see the reflection of her relief in her warrior's eyes and they grinned at one another. She's beautiful.

Most of the camp had passed by the time they finished their meal. Anpo kissed both of them farewell and mounted her pony. Before she left, she firmly told Teca, "I will return and take you for a ride, cinksi!" And then she sped off in search of Nupa.

The toddler frowned and fussed a bit, still wanting to go with Anpo. But, he was a smart, if obstinate, child and had made his decision. He sat back with an air of impatience as his mother began walking with the horse again. Soon his eyes drifted closed.

Their arrival at summer camp aroused the same interest as every year. A few dozen warriors and elders took the time to ride out and formally great the incoming people. And, as usual, there were a few koskalaka who desired a closer look at the white woman.

Anpo had learned her lesson from that first year, however. She kept herself close to her family, glaring down any young man who got too close. Fortunately, word had spread and no one was willing to challenge.

The warrior remained in the vicinity of her family as the ti ikceyas were set up, helping to distract the boy as well as keep an eye on her winuhca. Once she was sure that Kathleen and Teca were safely ensconced at her hearth, she grinned and kissed them both before heading off to the council fire at the center of camp.

Anpo's father, Wanbli Zi, was already at the fire, seated to one side. As she settled down just behind him and beside her tiblo, she thought, Ate is getting old. A frown crossed her face as she noticed the new wrinkles and whitening hair. An indistinct uneasiness swept over her. I have never thought of him as old before.

Her musings were broken by words spoken from across the fire.

"Hiya. The wicasa was white."

The wikoskalaka's eyes found the speaker with sharp intensity, a man a bit older than herself and from another encampment.

"What did he look like?" a second man asked, puffing on his pipe in concentration.

The first pursed his lips in thought. "His hair was like ours but curly like the cana," and he indicated the area between his legs. "It covered his face. He smiled too much and stank."

A few of the men chuckled at the sentiment. Wicasa Waziya Mani spoke up from his place nearer the woman warrior. "And you say this white man is north?" At the answering nod, the chief continued, "What is he doing there? Has he no hearth? No family?"

The first man shrugged. "He does not. He said his people were to the east and he was a trader." A grin crossed his face as he pulled out a knife, holding it up for all to see. "I traded him two wolf skins for this."

The metal blade caught the afternoon sunlight and reflected it back at them all.

Several days passed as preparations began in earnest for this season's Sun Dance. As each new band arrived, the camp grew to bursting. The people gossiped and worked together, catching up on the news of a winter and preparing for another long absence from one another.

The most well worked information, of course, was that of the white trader to the north. Others of the camp that had met him had stories to regale their eager audience with - tales of sticks that made loud noises, of a liquid that burnt like fire when drunk, of cloth blankets that were thicker than those of their neighbors to the south. The winyan were abuzz with the strange metal pots and beads of all sizes and colors.

Kathleen received a lot of attention from the other winyan as they asked her about the things they'd heard about. She did her best to inform them of the various items in the white world that were created to make a woman's life easier. And, as she spoke of metal laundry pails, fry pans, scissors and boots, a certain feeling of nostalgia stole over her.

"Hau, Nupa! Hau, Anpo!" a voice called.

The two warriors looked from their game of throwing spears to see Wicasa Waziya Mani approaching them with a wide smile on his handsome face. Tagging along behind were four of his men.

"Hau, wicahcala," Anpo responded, turning to the chief. She held out her hand and grasped the offered forearm.

Nupa took the opportunity to throw the spear, hitting the targeted tree with a solid thunk. He, too, turned to the others and grasped forearms with Mani. "Hau, wicahcala!" Grinning at his friend, he added, "I beat you, tanksi!"

With a careful eye, the wikoskalaka studied their target. "You did, tiblo. The spear is yours."

Almost chortling in his glee at besting her, the warrior trotted forward to yank the spear from the tree.

Upon Nupa's return, the chief said, "I would ask you and your families to join me at my fire tonight."

A dark brow rose. Anpo looked to her friend who was equally curious. "I . . . would be honored, wicahcala," she finally said.

Nupa echoed her agreement.

The chief's smile broadened and he clapped both of them on the shoulder. "Good! I look forward to seeing that fine young cinksi of yours, Anpo!"

A grin creased the dark woman's face. "My winucha says Teca grows like a weed."

Startled by the unusual comparison, Mani thought for a second before bursting into laughter. "I am sure he does, wikoskalaka!" he exclaimed. In parting, he said, "Until tonight."

The friends nodded. "Until tonight," Nupa agreed.

Once the wicasa were gone, Nupa turned to the woman. "That was strange."

"Ohan." The warrior shrugged and turned away from the retreating forms. "You and I should tell our winyan to prepare."

"Hau." As the two warriors walked away from their contest, Nupa hefted the spear, a thoughtful look on his face. "Do you remember our first meeting, tanksi?"

Memories of a young hoksila who had taken the spear her father had given her filled Anpo's mind. With a rueful smile, she nodded. "I do, tiblo."

"It looks like I finally got that spear!"

The dark woman laughed and slapped Nupa on the back. "Ohan, tiblo! You did! And I will not fight you to get it back this time!"

Mani's fire turned out to be the council fire of his camp. A fairly large gathering of his people were present and the atmosphere was jovial in nature. A handful of the men were elders, most others being of an age with the chief or younger.

As was customary, the wicasa sat around the fire as they smoked and talked, the women serving them. Hoksila sat as close as they could to hear the words of the warriors they wished to become. Talk revolved around many subjects - hunting, travel, weapons and ponies.

Eventually all had been fed. It was later in the evening as the setting sun cast brilliant oranges and reds across the surrounding ti ikceyas. Kathleen settled down behind her warrior, leaning against the strong back with one shoulder as she nursed Teca. The toddler was far past the need for breast milk, but he still desired it upon occasion.

"Anpo, Nupa," Mani spoke up, drawing the crowd's attention. "You both have very handsome families."

"Thank you, wicahcala," Nupa smiled. He gently rubbed his woman's belly. "And it will be growing soon."

Hca Wanahca blushed a little but smiled at the general murmur of amusement.

Grinning and nodding in agreement, Mani took a puff off his pipe. "The two of you have parents in Wagna's camp?"

"Ohan," Anpo answered.

Again, the chief nodded, though this time his face had turned thoughtful. A comfortable silence reigned about the fire as the rest of Mani's people kept their counsel and waited for him to speak again. "I am going north when the Sun Dance is complete," the chief announced. "I am going to see this white trader they speak of. I would like the two of you and your families to join me."

Anpo blinked at the young chief. "You would have me join you?" she asked, her tone not quite one of surprise.

"Hau, Anpo. And Nupa, too."

The woman looked to her friend, seeing a sparkle of excitement in his dark eyes. Behind her, she could feel the comforting weight of Kathleen leaning against her, hear the sounds of Teca as he suckled his way to slumber.

Sensing her hesitation, Mani leaned forward and tapped the ashes of his pipe out. "Anpo, you are a fine warrior and hunter. I witnessed you slaying tatanka ska! The spirits have honored you with a winucha and a cinksi." He paused and peered into her eyes. "I would have you come with me."

Dark eyes narrowed. He states the obvious and he tries to sway me with his pleasing tongue. "You speak sweet words, wicahcala. But even honey cannot sweeten rotten meat. What do you mean to say?"

A tension seemed to fill the air, directed at the visitors. The rest of her family bristled in defense, even Teca fussing a bit at the subtle clues from his ina. Anpo refused to look away from the chief, keeping her eyes locked on his. Her father's words ehoed in her head, Be strong.

Mani stared back, dark eyes as flinty as the steel knife that had been shown him days earlier. And then a slow grin washed across his face. The heavy atmosphere lessened and the rest of the people responded to his smile. And, as he began to chuckle, so did they.

"Nothing gets past you, Anpo!" he exclaimed. "You have a pleasant nature and appear as soft as the wikoskalaka you are!" His voice lowered and his tone became serious. "But deep inside beats the heart of a warrior, and that is why I would have you join me!"

Despite her relief at the young chief's response, Anpo continued to stare at him without an answering smile. Behind her, Kathleen could feel the muscle along the broad back, tight and ready.

"Your words are still honey, wicahcala. Speak your heart."

Mani's smile turned rueful and he cast a sly eye at his people gathered around. "You know my heart, Anpo." He jutted a chin at the blonde woman sitting behind the warrior. "I would have your winuhca be with us as we speak to the white trader. It is said that Topeya's people had great difficulty making themselves understood."

Nodding slowly in acceptance of his statement, Anpo considered her next words carefully. "Tonight we are feasting at your fire, wicahcala, as invited guests. You have honored me with your invitation." A pause as she glanced behind her to see dark blue eyes looking back. They spoke of love and acceptance and trust. "I will think on your words, Mani. I will not answer you this night."

"That is good, wikoskalaka," the chief agreed. He leaned back, a respectful look on his face. "You do not act or speak without thought. You will be wise counsel in the future."

The subject was then dropped and the feast continued until there was no food left. As the next morning was the beginning of the four days of Sun Dance rituals, the reveling ceased early. Eventually, the visitors said their good nights and drifted off to their own camp.

"What do you think your decision will be, tanksi?" Nupa asked as the warriors trailed behind their women.

"I do not know, tiblo," the woman shrugged. "I am curious. But it is Ketlin that Mani wants there. If she does not wish it, we will not go."

Her friend nodded, dark eyes searching the distant horizon of thought. "I believe that I will go. I wish a knife of that strange stone." Pulling his own obsidian blade and peering at it, he said, "Topeya said it does not chip or break as fast. And only two wolf skins."

"That is very good for something so valuable," Anpo murmured.

"Hau. It is."

Arriving at their respective lodges, the familles separated and settled in for the night. Soon, Teca was sleeping in his robes within easy reach of his parents. Anpo and Kathleen cuddled together, enjoying their privacy before the toddler woke in the night and joined them in their own robes.

"Do you wish to see the white trader, winuhcala?" Anpo asked, lying comfortably on her back with her woman draped across her.

Kathleen's general feeling of nostalgia warred with her common sense. "Ohan, Anpo. But do not think I can speak his words just because he is white." The blonde snuggled closer, a contented sigh escaping her as warm hands moved along her spine. "It is like the Lakota and the Hahatunwan - two different people though your skin is brown."

The warrior nodded. "You speak truly." One hand reached up to finger yellow hair.

"And do not think that this white trader is as honorable as your people, Anpo," the blonde warned with gentle insistence.

"What?" Anpo frowned down at her woman, brows furrowed. "I do not understand."

Kathleen squeezed the dark woman in a hug. "I know you do not understand. That is why you need to know." She inhaled deeply. "The white men can be very mean, very hurtful. To their own kind as well as others."

"Why?"

"I do not know, winuhcala," Kathleen answered, a sorrowful tone to her voice. "It has always been so. Remember the stories I have told you."

Anpo considered this. There had been many, many evenings that her woman had entertained her with stories of the white people. Battles fought over a simple piece of land that belonged to no one but the spirits. Whole wars that continued on for years because one man was jealous of another. Despite these tales, the warrior had always considered them distant and not necessarily very important. The very real and near white trader brought all of this back to the forefront of her mind.

Her head tucked underneath the warrior's chin, Kathleen traced the pattern of scarring on the dark chest with light fingers. "Not all white wicasa are bad, Anpo. But not all are good."

Running a dark hand along the blonde's forearm, the native said, "Do you think there will be trouble?"

"I do not know, winuhcala. I fear that there could be. The trader is there for a reason - to make himself wealthy. And wealth drives a white man more than any other thought." And you people are all babes in the wood and ripe for the takin', Kathleen thought with furrowed brows, unable to find the right words to explain herself.

"All men wish to make themselves wealthy," Anpo responded, though more to throw in an arguing point to the conversation.

The blonde drew herself up onto her elbow, brushing her hair behind one ear as she peered down at her warrior in earnest. The hand returned to lay palm down on Anpo's chest. "Do not make light of this, winuhcala," she said in a firm tone. "The white wicasa would own everything in the world if he could."

Blinking in consternation, Anpo tilted her head to one side and met the dark blue gaze. "How could a man own the world? The world belongs to the spirits." The alien concept confused her.

A small, sad smile crossed Kathleen's face. Oh, I wish that were true, luv. I hope that your future with my people will be a good one. "Ohan, Anpo. The world belongs to the spirits. But the white wicasa does not know of your spirits."

The warrior considered this. "Perhaps Mani is right. We should go with him this season to the white trader." She covered the hand on her chest with her own. "You know so much about your people that he does not. Even if you cannot speak the trader's words, you will be helpful to Mani with his understanding."

"Then we will go with Mani this season," Kathleen agreed with a slight nod. The smile that greeted her caused her breath to catch. God, she is more than beautiful!

Anpo pulled her woman down for a lingering kiss, their lips and tongues meeting and sliding together. The hand at her chest moved up to tangle in her dark hair, even as her own met with blonde. She moaned slightly at the feel of Kathleen's body as it leaned back against hers. She feels so good, tastes so good....

The heated kissing went on for some while with lips occasional distracted by ears and necks and faces. Hands roamed along bare skin. It eventually cooled down to gentle caresses until they both relaxed in each others' arms to catch their breath.

As she lay drowsing, Kathleen heard a low rumble from the chest her head was pillowed on.

"I love you, mahasanni ki."

A sleepy smile graced her features. "And I love you, mahasanni ki."

Anpo squeezed her dark eyes shut at the endearment, feeling it drive into her heart. It felt so every time her woman said this, sounding so much like the vision she'd had many years ago. If I find my own path as Inyan told me, will that be what hurts Ketlin? Despite the foreboding feelings, she sighed deeply and let herself drift to sleep.

The two warriors rode together the following day. One had dark hair that was graying with age while the other was young and vibrant. Regardless of their age difference, they sat their ponies almost identically, lending long familiarity to their presence together.

Coming to a small creek, the elder wicasa pulled up. "You and I will water the ponies here," he stated as he slid from his wooden saddle.

With a bit more spunk, Anpo hopped off her own steed with a nod of agreement. She untied a leather sack from her pony before letting him go to graze nearby.

Wanbli Zi gingerly sat down in the shade of a medium sized boulder, drinking deeply from his waterskin. He handed it up to his cunksi with a smile as she settled beside him.

Trading items, Anpo handed the sack over. "Ketlin made us something to eat before I left."

"She is a good cook," Wanbli commented with a grin, opening the leather bag and pulling out a small, wrapped bundle. As he peeled the leaves aside, he found a roasted game hen within. "A very good cook!"

Anpo chuckled and drank from the skin. She closed it and set it between them, taking the bag from her father and retrieving her own bird.

The pair ate in silence, watching the ponies and tossing the tiny bones into the nearby creek. Once their meal was finished, the pipes came out and they smoked in contentment.

"Ate..." the wikoskalaka began.

"Go, cunksi. Your ina and I will be fine."

Anpo looked at him in startlement. "You know what I was going to ask!? You have learned to read my thoughts!?"

Chuckling, Wanbli shook his head. "Hiya, Anpo. I only know that Nupa is already going with Mani. Where Nupa goes, you go. And where you go, Nupa goes. It has always been so." He puffed in reflection. "And your cuwe has been talking of nothing else."

Relieved and irritated at the same time, the woman stopped just short of grumbling. A hand resting on her shoulder brought her back from her uncharitable thoughts.

"Hca is winyan. It is in her nature to chatter like the birds. Do not make your heart stone towards her for following her nature."

Immediately contrite, Anpo dropped her gaze. "Ohan, ate. Your words are true."

Nodding, the elder continued to smoke, idly watching his world of the plains. When the tobacco was gone, he dug a hole in the ground with his heel and tapped the ashes there, covering them with dirt. "You are worried about me, cunksi. Why?"

Anpo dragged the words from within, not wanting to utter them and thereby make them real. "You are getting old, ate. Your hair is changing colors and your bones ache in the winter. I worry about you and ina without any family to take care of you this season."

There was a solemn nod in response as Wanbli mulled her words over. "It is the way I felt when my ate was my age and I was yours, cunksi. I will tell you what he told me."

The wikoskalaka leaned forward just a bit. She'd never met her grandfather who had died before her birth. It was rare that her father spoke of him.

"It is the cycle of the world, to be born, grow old and die, Anpo. Nothing will change it. Whether you stay with Wagna's camp this season or go with Mani and Nupa, we will still grow older. And maybe we will die in your absence, I do not know." Dark eyes, still strong despite his age, peered into those like his own. "But you will not follow the path you were meant to be on by letting your fears rule you."

Anpo searched her father's face, finding nothing but love and pride. "Do you know my path, ate?"

The man gave a slow grin and he nodded. "Hau, Anpo. You are to be a warrior and a hunter, like your father before you. This was seen by Inyan at the moment of your birth. He heard the scream of the igmu in your cries." Wanbli broke the eye contact, looking out over the water. "Tell me, cunksi. Have you ever seen a family of mountain lions together?"

"Ohan, ate. When the female has her cubs."

"And when the cubs are grown?"

Thinking carefully, the warrior considered the question. Her eyes widened. "Hiya, ate.... The igmu are always alone."

"Your path is not with mine, cunksi," Wanbli said seriously. He leaned forward to peer at his youngest child. "At least not now. Go with Mani and be easy in your heart - your ina and I will be strong until you return."

His larger hand patted her leg in reassurance as she slowly nodded. "I will go with Mani this season, ate. But next season, I will be at summer camp and rejoin you."

"You will do what you must, warrior. And you will be brave and strong as I have taught you."

Chapter 9

Wicasa Ki Ska
(wee-chah-shah kee skah)

The White Man

1780

Wi Ile Anpo pulled her pony up as she crested the small hill. Turning, she looked out over the summer camp. Around her, Mani's camp flowed past, moving north. As these people who were strangers - yet not - passed by, the dark woman surveyed the encampment. With ease she spotted her mother's ti ikceya. And the empty void where her own woman's lodge had so recently been.

It felt strange to be leaving her home, leaving her family. I am not yet away and already I feel lost, Anpo mused with serious wonder. How will I feel when I cannot look up and see ate? When I cannot hear ina's voice as she speaks to Ketlin and Teca?

A hand on her bare calf caught her attention. Dark blue eyes met her gaze. A gentle, understanding smile graced the lips of the woman who stood beside her mount. Mahasanni ki, whispered a voice in her head and Anpo felt a rush of... something fill her. Love, fear, desire, tenderness all frothing together into a heady mix.

"We can stay," Kathleen suggested, knowing it wouldn't happen but feeling it should be voiced.

The offer seemed to give Anpo the freedom to turn it down. "Hiya, winuhcala. We will go with Mani and meet this white trader." Dark eyes looked at summer camp a final time. "My parents will be well in our absence."

The blonde nodded and rubbed the brown skin beneath her fingers. She received a wonderful smile and a caress on her cheek before her warrior pulled away, urging her mount to catch up with her sic'e, Nupa Olowan.

She's nineteen years old, Kathleen considered keeping the yellow shirt of her woman in sight. The same age as I when.... The distant memory of a dying man's scream echoed in her mind and she shook it, her long yellow braids shifting in front of her. The white woman turned away from the sound, searching for something to latch onto, finding her son chatting amiably with Hca Wanahca.

The pair were on the back of her lodge, being pulled by the strong mare she'd received from Anpo. Nearby, a grey colt frisked as it trailed along with its mother. Her stepan had the reins of another pony wrapped around her wrist, another ti ikceya dragging along behind it. They were singing a child's song about animals.

Kathleen's face lost its tenseness and she grinned at them. My family. I will always have Teca and Anpo.

She swooped in from the south, screaming her cry as she attacked tatanka ska with a spear. The warrior's hit was solid and the white buffalo was mortally wounded. With sadness and elation, she watched tatanka ska stagger closer to her younger self, blood pouring from its side and its nostrils flaring wide as it panted for breath. It fell to the ground with a solid thump, dust rising about its carcass. The Sun flared again, and she lost the image, turning away from its brightness. The light faded and she looked again, only to find the white buffalo gone.

Anpo was her younger self once again. In the buffalo's place was Ketlin. The woman's hair was long, longer than her own, and a yellow the color of the Sun itself. Her eyes were the blue of a deep lake, still and clear. She wore the standard dress that all Lakota women wore, buckskin and moccasins, her hair flowing freely in the breeze.

The child-Anpo watched in horror as the strange apparition rose from where tatanka ska had been, blood pouring from the side where the white buffalo had been wounded, walking gently closer. Then the woman knelt and put a hand to her wound, bloodying her fingers. She reached forward and brushed the blood onto the young girl's face, two thunderbolts beneath the dark eyes. She could see those brilliant blue eyes staring at her intently and hear the words whispered into her ear.

"Mahasanni ki." The white woman rose to her feet. From behind her emerged a hoksila who watched with solemn eyes.

"Teca?" she murmured.

Smiling fondly down at the childlike Anpo, the woman with yellow hair caressed her cheek. "Mahasanni ki," she repeated. She took the toddler's hand and walked away.

The light intensified until it surrounded the mother and child, so bright she had to hide her eyes. When she was able to see, there was nothing there.

"Hiya!" Anpo gasped, fighting herself awake.

The sleeping robes pooled about her waist, her breasts hanging free in the cool early morning air. Beside her, Kathleen rumbled and rolled onto her back, holding Teca to her like a doll.

A dream! It was a dream! the warrior insisted, reaching a hesitant hand out to touch the blonde hair. They are still here. Still with me.

Teca woke a bit. He sprawled across his ina's belly, thumb tucked firmly into his mouth. Solemn eyes stared at his inanup, more asleep than awake.

The look haunted Anpo. So much like the dream.... She stilled the fear and caressed her cinksi, rubbing his back until dark eyes closed and his breath deepened into sleep.

With slow, careful movements, Anpo eased out from under the covers. When she was clear of the bedding, she dressed. The warrior left her hair free and stealthily stepped out of Kathleen's ti ikceya.

The sun had yet to come up and no one was about, all snug in slumber. On the outskirts of camp, the herd of ponies were being guarded by younger koskalaka, their presence keeping the camp and its inhabitants safe.

As the warrior passed the fire, currently a mound of ash surrounded by rock, she scooped up one of her robes. With long strides, she left Mani's camp behind.

Soon, Anpo stood at the side of a river. It was deep and swift with a small falls rumbling in a tenor voice. The sky was beginning to lighten, midnight blue giving way to the grey of dawn. Puffs of steam from her breath filled the chill air. The wikoskalaka found an outcropping that wasn't getting too much spray from the water and settled down, wrapping her robe about her.

Scouts had returned the previous day with good news. After a full moon of travel, they had found the white trader they sought. The morning would be exciting, people dressing in their finest, preparing their skins for trade, packing their lodges.

Anpo's family had spent quite a bit of time at Mani's fire after the scouts reported. The chief did his best to learn all he could from Kathleen. The picture the blonde painted of her people was not a pretty one. All the elders present at the council lodge were uncomfortable with the dangerous potential for misunderstandings.

The point was moot. There was no turning back now. Mani was wise enough to know that whether he made contact with this trader or not, others would. They would end up with the benefits that Topeya's camp had already attained.

A whisper of the dream tickled Anpo's mind and she tried to grab at it, make sense of it. For seven winters the vision had remained the same, even in her sleep. Why is it different now? All that she'd thought regarding it was put into question. Do I hurt Ketlin? Or does she hurt me!?

The warrior's heart felt the remembered hollowness as her family disappeared into the brilliant light. Will she decide to leave me for the white trader? she worried, pulling the robe tighter against the cold. Anpo immediately discarded that possibility. No. Not after what my winuhca said last night about her people. I do not see her wishing to remain with men like that.

Closing her eyes, she could hear Kathleen's voice, "Mahasanni ki," and see her walk away with Teca. And though she leaves me, she still loves me. The dark head was shaking in confusion.

"Ate, Inyan," Anpo whispered to the morning as she opened her dark eyes. "I wish you were here now to give me counsel."

Kathleen peered into the small clearing as the camp broke through the treeline. The forward scouts were there, whooping and riding around the large cabin that was belching smoke from its chimney. It was a ramshackle building made of thin logs, the entire building twice the size of the usual family settlement.

The area around the trading post had been cleared of tall grass and trees. A woodpile was beside one door with a large stump in the front yard being used as a chopping block. Already, two koskalaka had pulled the axe from it and were studying the blade closely. A separate, smaller shack was to one side. The snorting of a horse could be heard from within and it nickered at the steeds of three scouts circling.

Mani led his people down the gentle slope, resplendent in his red and yellow painted chest and a headdress that sported many eagle feathers. Behind him and fanned out were the elders and other important wicasa of his camp, all wearing their best clothing and paints, hair and bodies adorned with the proper badges and feathers of their accomplishments.

The blonde woman felt a sense of loss as the camp neared their destination. Nothing will be the same, she mourned, unsure where the emotions and thoughts were coming from.

"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 ska say to you?" Anpo broke the silence. She continued her work on the knife, not looking up. "I could not understand him well, his words are different than yours."

Kathleen looked into the fire. "He told me his name. Asked if you were my wicasa." An impish grin crossed her face and dark blue eyes darted to the warrior. "I told him you were."

Chuckling, Anpo tested the edge of the blade with her thumb before beginning to sharpen the other side.

"He offered me something for trade and I told him hiya." The blonde woman returned her gaze to the orange and yellow flames, leaning back and resting her weight on her palms.

"What did he offer for trade?"

The shoulders raised in an eloquent shrug. "Nothing important. Nothing useful." Kathleen sighed. "Just a toy."

Anpo nodded solemnly as she peeked at her woman. Melancholy feelings seemed to rise off the blonde as mist from a lake. Resettling herself, the warrior stopped her task and looked at her winuhca. "What did you trade for today?"

Sitting forward, Kathleen tucked her legs beneath her. "I traded for a stew pot and a cook knife," she said. "Did you trade for just the stone and knife?"

"I did trade for something else." The warrior pursed her lips in thought, eyes squinting at the distant treetops as she considered. She broke into a smile at the soft chuckle she heard. "Something I think you will enjoy." Her dark eyes flashed with anticipation as the blonde woman scooted closer in eager curiosity.

"I will? What is it?"

Anpo set the knife and whetstone aside. With agonizing slowness, she pulled the tin whistle from her pouch, hiding it in the shadows of the evening. She held it up with a flourish, her smile wide as the firelight reflected off the metal surface. "What will you trade me for it, winuhcala?"

Kathleen burst into tears.

Anpo was completely unprepared for the response. Perplexed, her smile faded away and eyes narrowed in concern. She reached out and swept Kathleen into her arms, holding her close as the blonde sobbed and sniffled. The whistle was still clutched in one brown hand, forgotten.

Eventually, Kathleen's tears faded off and she was left hiccoughing and feeling the fool. Strong arms held her close to a warm chest and she could hear the heartbeat beneath the yellow shirt.

"Ketlin?"

The blonde pulled away a bit and used the end of her dress to clean her face, sniffling. "I am sorry, winuhcala."

"Shhh. Do not be sorry for having a heart, winuhcala." Anpo pulled her closer, helping the white woman to readjust her seat until she was leaning against the long form. The warrior still held the whistle and pulled it back into view. "What is this? It looks like our pipes, but not."

Kathleen smiled gently as she peered at the instrument. Her warrior had adorned it with three strips of leather, each holding respectively a feather, a quill and braided horse's hair. "It is called a tin whistle in my tongue. My unci taught me to play and I was given hers when she died."

Nodding in understanding, Anpo hugged her closer. "You loved your unci very much," she hazarded, feeling the blonde head nod against her chest. "It must have been lonely without her."

A few more tears trickled from dark blue eyes. "Ohan," she whispered. "I still feel lonely without her sometimes."

"Your unci is in your heart and her spirit will forever be alive because of it." The warrior studied the tin whistle. "I think she wanted you to have this. That is why it was here and why I traded for it."

The instrument was pressed into Kathleen's hands and she gave her woman a look that held a mixture of longing, sadness and joy.

Anpo pulled away, peering intently into her strange colored eyes. She used the edge of a robe to wipe off Kathleen's face and laid a tender kiss on her forehead. "Play for me."

Feeling a bit drained but much better, Kathleen smiled and nodded. She brought the whistle to her lips and began a simple tune, one of the first her grandmother had taught her when she was small.

As the instrument emitted a sweet tone, Anpo closed her eyes and let herself be carried away on its melody. It sounds almost like Ketlin's voice when she speaks in her tongue. Wondering what it had been like for her winuhca as a child, wishing to have met this grandmother who had been so important to her, the wikoskalaka held her woman close. And deep in her heart, she wondered if Kathleen missed her family as much as the warrior missed her ate and ina.

1781

Winter camp was established in the foothills of a large mountain range. Many stories were told around the fires about the sacredness of these hills and that the Lakota would walk among them forever. Things went along as they should, with snow fall and colder temperatures. There was plenty of food to be had and starvation was held off for another season.

It had started with a dry cough and slight fever. Teca whined a bit more and wouldn't get out of his sleeping robes, claiming his head hurt. Concerned, his ina fed him some broth and kept cool rags on his forehead. Nearby, Anpo watched as she worked on various tasks, not wanting them out of her sight.

Two days passed with no changes and both Kathleen and her warrior had decided it was a cold, nothing more. The toddler seemed to be doing fine with the teas and compresses from the medicine man, sleeping the days away in relative comfort. Still, the blonde woman slept fitfully, rousing often during the nights to check on her only child.

Anpo woke from a frantic shaking. Looking blearily into her winuhca's face, she shook off sleep in alarm. "Ketlin! What is wrong!?" The dark warrior looked about the ti ikceya, a sense of danger filling her as she heard a strange barking sound.

"Teca! Teca!" Kathleen insisted, answering in her native tongue. "He needs a doctor!"

Dark brows furrowed at the unfamiliar word but before she could question it, the blonde shook her hard once more.

"Now!! He's dying!" the panicked mother cried. She literally launched herself away from her warrior, shoving the other woman down as she dived back to her son's robes.

Dying? Teca! Anpo scrambled to her feet, automatically grabbing for her shirt and putting it on as she stumbled forward, finding the source of the strange sound.

The boy was coughing hard now, very dry hacks that seemed to boom from deep inside his little chest. He grasped at his throat as he tried to get air into his lungs, his lips tinted slightly blue. His dark eyes were barely open, giving the impression he was still asleep despite the rigors his small body was putting him through.

As Anpo could only stare in shock, the blonde woman helped her cinksi sit up.

"He's burnin' up with fever!" Kathleen insisted, running her hands over his body. "We've got ta get him to a doctor!" Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her warrior standing slack jawed. A fury came over her and she rose, clutching the coughing boy to her chest and shoving the dark woman towards the tiopa. "Get help now!!"

Her befuddlement broken, Anpo nodded once and dashed out of the lodge. The cold winter air struck her and she realized she was still naked from the waist down. Grabbing up a robe near the embers of the fire, she wrapped it about her as she pelted off for the ti ikceya where the medicine man slept.

Several minutes passed before the warrior returned, dragging the elder with her. The older man was sputtering a bit in indignation at the rough treatment, but he didn't try to stop their progress. Behind them came the medicine man's winyan and cinksi, both carrying his medicine pouches and adjusting their hastily donned clothing.

Anpo ducked into the lodge, pulling the medicine man after her. Dark eyes flitting about, she saw no one. The vision! They have left me!

"Where is your cinksi?" the elder questioned, looking around them. "You said he was sicker. Where is his ina?"

Nearly staggering in fear and confusion, the warrior reached the sleeping robes of her family and knelt down to feel them. Still warm! "They cannot be far," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

"Eh?" the elder asked, not hearing. He took a step closer only to be nearly bowled over as a frightened warrior dashed past, flying through the doorway to the outside. There was a squawk as his family was upset by the warrior's passage and he proceeded to follow.

Anpo barely missed crashing headlong into the medicine man's woman as she stood at the tiopa. Where would she go? Where would she take Teca? She replayed the last few minutes in her memory, hearing her woman's voice say, "He's burnin' up with fever!" Somewhere cold. The river!

Grabbing the elder's son by the shoulders, the warrior insisted, "Wake Nupa and Hca! Bring them here! Tell them Teca is sick and Ketlin is crazy with fear! Go!" She spun the koskalaka about and pushed him in the direction of her cuwe's ti ikceya. Not seeing if her order was obeyed, Anpo spun on her heel and ran for the river, leaving the medicine man and his winyan to stand and stare blankly after.

As she had hoped, Anpo found her family at the river. Her woman had waded out waist deep, holding Teca so that just his head was above water. Tossing the robe aside, the warrior followed after, swallowing her curse as icy water hit her bare skin like a thousand knives. Coming close, she could hear Kathleen singing a soft Irish lullaby through chattering teeth. The child appeared to be unconscious, his dark eyes closed as he trembled.

The blonde looked up from her son. Her eyes were wide with fear, her lips turning blue from the cold. She couldn't control her shivering, the nearly freezing waters taking their toll on her body. It took a few seconds for Kathleen to actually focus on her warrior, realizing there was a warm body pressed against her side and dispelling a minute amount of the cold. "Ye found a doctor then, lass?" she asked.

"Come, Ketlin. We must return to your lodge," Anpo said softly. She wrapped an arm about her winyan's shoulder and urged her towards the riverbank, relieved when Kathleen allowed it.

"His fever's so high, love. My mum once did this with da when he was half outta his mind," the blonde explained, continuing to speak in her native tongue.

Anpo nodded in understanding, glad she understood most of what was being said. She guided them up to the bank where she'd left the buffalo robe. Ignoring her naked lower half, the warrior wrapped her woman and son in the robe and lead them back to the ti ikceya.

By now, Hca and Nupa had been roused. The fire in front of the lodge was burning merrily and the young mother was preparing a pot of water for the medicine man. As they neared, the two families around the fire rose to their feet, stepping forward to help.

Looking wildly about, Kathleen's eyes widened in alarm and she clutched Teca closer. "Where's the doctor?" she demanded, her voice rising in panic. "Ye said ye found a doctor!"

"I do not know what a doctor is, winuhcala," Anpo soothed. "I have brought the medicine man to help Teca with the coughing sickness. He will know what to do."

"No!" The blonde pulled away, staring at the gathered Lakota in anger. "No! Teca needs a doctor! A medical professional! Not some heathen dancin' about a fire and mixin' herbs and poultices!"

Anpo didn't understand all the words, but the intent was clear from the amount of scorn that was put into them. Ketlin is afraid. She only reacts to her fear. The warrior stepped forward, trying to look intently into her woman's frightened eyes.

Taking a step back and refusing to meet Anpo's gaze, the blonde readjusted Teca's weight in her arms. The heat radiating off of him warmed her body and fueled her fears. When the toddler began to cough once more, she could only watch with a wave of helplessness rushing through her soul. A low tenor voice grabbed her attention, dragging her tear-filled eyes back to her warrior.

"Mahasanni ki."

Dark blue met the deepest brown and Kathleen sobbed. "He can't die, love," she whispered frantically. "My family's not yet seen him! My mum doesn't know she's a granny!"

Anpo used the opportunity to step forward and pull her winyan back towards the fire and the waiting natives. "Teca will not die, winuhcala. And I swear that we will find your family so that he may meet them."

Peering up at her warrior with eyes that reflected haunting fear and a faint flicker of hope, of relief. "We will?"

"Ohan, Ketlin. I swear it."

Teca coughed again as they neared the fire. The medicine man immediately reached out to take him.

"I will need to bring the child inside," the elder stated. His arms were around Teca, but he could feel the blonde's tightened embrace. Dark blue eyes, almost crazed with fear and worry, peered into his.

"Ketlin," Anpo said. "Let Teca go. Let Wayawa heal him."

There was a long moment that stretched between the trio. And then the tableau was broken when the blonde woman released the child and sagged against Anpo. The elder wasted no time as he took his charge and ducked inside the ti ikceya, his son following with precious medicine pouches.

Breathing a faint sigh of relief, Anpo held the shivering woman in her arms. Feeling a warmth envelope her, she found herself wrapped in a buffalo robe, as well, her cuwe tucking it close about both their shoulders. An uncontrollable shivering shook her body at the unfamiliar warmth.

"I will get you both warm clothes," Hca informed them, pulling them towards the fire. Once they were both settled, she ducked into the lodge.

It wasn't long before they were both completely dressed, though Kathleen was hardly any help. She had seemed to shut down in exhaustion and worry and both Hca and Anpo had to get her out of her wet dress and clothe her. Soon, the couple were wrapped once again in dry robes and cuddled together before the fire while the medicine man and his son could be heard chanting inside the ti ikceya. Wayawa's woman had returned to her own lodge to await her family.

Hca puttered about the fire while her wicasa smoked a pipe. She prepared hot water for Wayawa and delivered it to him inside. Then, water was boiled for a soothing tea.

Sitting in the honored space to the left of Anpo, Nupa continued to puff the tobacco, lending silent support to his best friend and hanka.

Anpo held the blonde woman close, gently rocking them as she whispered a prayer of protection for themselves and their cinksi. Kathleen's head was tucked beneath her chin and she could feel the warm breath as it brushed her neck. When the tea was done, the warrior held her woman's cup, blowing on it and forcing her to drink.

The night passed into daylight with the two couples huddled together in their robes and staring at the crackling fire as they awaited word from the elder inside.

It was the fifth day of Teca's illness. The lodge reeked of the pungent herbal mix that Wayawa had instructed be placed on his chest, but no one really noticed it any more. Hca and her own cinksi had basically moved into the ti ikceya to help, while Nupa spent more time ice fishing and hunting for rabbits that could be made into nourishing broths for the sick toddler.

The extended family had taken turns watching the child, washing his body with cool rags to counteract the fever, replacing the poultice on his chest, feeding him the medicinal teas and broths. Additionally, the medicine man had made two or three visits a day to check on his charge and adjust the balance of herbs in the tea.

Anpo had driven herself to near exhaustion as she kept an eye on her woman. It had been struggle after struggle as she cajoled, badgered, demanded and pleaded for Kathleen to sleep and eat. Even now, the blonde dozed in her arms only fitfully, as if deep inside she knew she had to remain available for Teca.

"Mitankala."

Opening bleary eyes, the warrior peered at her older sister. As the woman came into focus, she noted a beautiful smile that plucked at her heart.

"The fever has broken, Anpo," Hca whispered. "I have already sent for Wayawa."

Anpo blinked rapidly, trying to clear her sleep-filled eyes. As the words became clearer, she surged upwards from the robes, pulling her woman with her.

"Wha...?" Kathleen mumbled at the interruption. Almost immediately, her face filled with fear. "Teca...?" She looked wildly at her cinksi's robes.

Hca rubbed the blonde's shoulder. "He is well, stepan. The fever has broken!" As Kathleen hurried to the toddler's side, she continued, "Teca is cooler and breathes well now. I have sent for the medicine man to check on him."

The worried mother collapsed in a heap beside her son. As tears of relief coursed down her face, she bit back the sobs so as not to wake him. Kathleen gently brushed his soft, dark hair away from his brow, relaxing deep inside as she noted the coolness of his skin. Warm hands were on her shoulder and she smiled up at her warrior.

Anpo felt an icy ball inside melt away at the sight of her woman's smile. She knelt down behind Kathleen and rubbed the shoulders in her hands. "Teca will grow strong again," she insisted, peering at their son. "And we will travel to your people so that your ina will know she is an unci."

Leaning back into the embrace, Kathleen quietly cried in relief and hope and love. "Thank you, mahasanni ki. Thank you."

Chapter 10

Tiospaye Wakuwa
(tee-oh-she-pah-yeh wah-koo-wah)

Chasing Family

1781

The remainder of the winter was mild and Wi Ile Anpo used her time wisely. The warrior spent it quizzing Kathleen about her family and preparing for the long trip.

Where the McGlashans were located was the biggest issue. It was apparent to both of them that finding the homestead her parents owned was going to be difficult. The blonde had no idea of exactly where her family had settled. She knew that there was a fairly large river nearby that the area natives called the Ohio, but that was the only landmark she was aware of.

Anpo had then spent time with the elders of Mani's camp, trying to discover if any had heard of this river. None had. The only river that they could speak of was called Mississippi, though none had ever seen it before. Kathleen was of the opinion that there would be plenty of people to guide their way once they neared her people. While Anpo was uncomfortable with the idea of putting her faith in any of her woman's people, there didn't seem to be much else they could do.

With great reluctance, the warrior had agreed.

Early spring colored the air with the smell of growing things and the crisp scent of morning dew. The small gathering of people were wrapped against the still chill of the morning. The baby, Yus'as'a, fussed a bit though he calmed when he was distracted by his mother's breast.

A large red stallion and a spotted mare stood nearby, saddled and with various bags hanging from them. Additionally, a grey yearling colt frisked, pulling at the rope about his neck as he sensed the anticipation around him.

"I will miss you, tanksi," Nupa Olowan spoke with a solemn face.

"I will miss you, as well, tiblo." The wikoskalaka grabbed her friend into a fierce embrace.

Strong arms held Anpo close. "Do you know this will be the first time we have been apart since we were children?" the man asked in a husky voice.

The woman warrior nodded. "I know." She pulled back and grasped Nupa by the shoulders. Dark eyes peered into her own, shining with unshed emotion. "We will be together again."

Nupa nodded sharply in agreement.

"As will we, mitankala," a voice insisted from beside them.

Anpo turned to her cuwe, a reassuring smile on her handsome face. "Ohan, Hca. We will be together again." Using a long finger, she gently chucked the baby's cheek. "I must see how big my tunska grows in one winter."

"We will speak of you to ina and ate," Hca Wanahca said with a sad smile. "They will be unhappy to not see you this summer." To the blonde woman, she added, "We will keep your ti ikceya safe until you return to us, stepan."

"Thank you, stepan," Kathleen responded, stepping forward for a warm hug. "I will miss you while I am gone."

A toddler barreled his way into the press, not wanting to be left out of the affections. The women broke apart, laughing, and Nupa scooped him up and tossed him high in the air.

"You be strong, tunska!" Nupa stated firmly, holding the boy up. "Learn from your inanup and take good care of your ina!"

"I strong warrior, leksi," was the serious response though Teca was currently dangling above his uncle's head. "I take good care of ina and help inanup."

Nodding with grave dignity, the wicasa settled the toddler onto the spotted mare. "That is good, Teca. You are very helpful and wise."

Sitting as tall as he was able in the saddle, the boy simply stated, "Thank you."

Anpo raised an eyebrow at their son's humble manner. Looking to her winuhca, she begged the question with her dark eyes.

"I have been teaching our cinksi about accepting compliments well," Kathleen answered with a faint smile.

With a thoughtful nod, the wikoskalaka looked back to the toddler. She smiled approval and watched Teca's broad grin form. "You are better than most warriors, Teca. Never forget that."

"I will not, inanup."

There was a pause in the conversation and the four of them looked blankly at one another. The red stallion snorted, breaking the silence.

"Go, tanksi," Nupa said in a low voice. "Or you will not leave at all."

Her smile was half amused and half chagrined at being discovered. "Ohan, tiblo." Anpo helped her woman onto the mare, steadying their son until the blonde was settled into place. The warrior then leapt onto her own mount and whirled him about. "I will see you at summer camp after next winter."

The pair left behind nodded. "We will see you at summer camp after next winter," Hca repeated.

Knowing that she had to leave now or lose her nerve, Anpo swallowed the lump developing in her throat. With a deep breath and a fond smile to Kathleen and Teca, she urged the stallion forward.

For well over a month, the small family traveled across the Great Plains. Steadily, they rode their ponies towards the rising sun. As the days grew longer and warmer, the signs of spring could be found everywhere - from the dusky green of sage to the brilliant fields of flowers they came across.

Every few days, they would remain camped, allowing themselves to recuperate from the long hours of riding and walking. Always near a river or creek, the trio would relax into a natural rhythm of family life.

Teca was well over two winters now. He could sit his ina's horse alone and, when in camp, spent much of his time with his own pony. There was great disappointment that he couldn't ride his own horse, but his inanup told him in great detail how a young colt, even a yearling one, could be ruined forever if ridden too soon. With reluctance, the toddler had accepted the restriction.

During their lull times, Kathleen would insist that everyone bathed and she cleaned all their clothing. Her warrior would use the break to hunt and repair tack, tools and weapons. Teca would follow his inanup about like a puppy or play by himself nearby.

They ran across the occasional village, as well. Most were offshoots of the Lakota - primarily of the Dakota tribe - and the family was welcome to join them for the night. Despite a few language differences, all went well during these visits. Anpo would regale the gathered folk with news of her people and the blonde would play a tune on her tin whistle. Of course, Kathleen's skin and hair color always garnered much attention.

When they reached the Mississippi River, they camped for three days. Anpo slew an antelope which fed them well, replenishing their dwindling supplies. Additional repairs and preparations were made while the warrior ranged a half day's ride north and south along the riverbank, searching for a likely crossing. None were forthcoming; the travelers were at an impasse.

On the third day in camp, a visitor arrived. An Ojibwe hunter shared their fire that evening. Though the languages were different, signing kept them conversing through the night. An arrangement was made to help Anpo and her family cross the large river in their path. Several days later, the trio continued their trek eastwards. Teca had an Ojibwe charm about his neck for protection, as did his mother. And Anpo was the proud owner of a new pipe made of beechwood.

Following an offshoot of the Mississippi, the family found that the vegetation changed from tall grasses to trees. As they veered away from the tributary, more and more they traveled through wooded growth, traversing game trails as they continued their way east. Though it was mid summer, the leafy trees provided welcome shade and kept them cool. There were many small streams along the way to keep them in water and game was plentiful.

Other natives made their presence known - the Huron, Kickapoo, Illinois. Many carried muskets with them and Anpo was concerned for her family's safety. Through sign language, it was discovered that the English were once again at war and the fighting was hot and heavy. Kathleen's fears grew with her warrior's. If her people were at war, where would her parents and brother be? Who was fighting who? Who would they side with?

After two weeks of travel through the woods, they found themselves at a huge lake. Another rest was called for and the three of them enjoyed the deep blue waters of Lake Michigan. A Huron scouting party happened upon them, joining them for several days as they quizzed each other. When the Ohio River was mentioned, it was discovered that one of the warriors had heard of it. He suggested continuing their journey to the south and east.

Anpo lead her family onwards. They skirted the lake until they crossed a river leading from it. From there, they turned southeast, continuing their trek through forested lands. A few days passed before they saw the smoke of a fire. As they neared its source, strange music reached Anpo's ears, odd aromas filled her nostrils. The blonde woman perked up as they got closer, explaining it was a homestead of her people.

Their arrival was met with mixed responses. Apparently, a celebration of some sort was going on and the sudden appearance of strangely dressed natives was a call to arms. With some quick talking, Kathleen was able to dispel the worst of their fears as she explained her circumstances. While the warrior stood stoically nearby with the horses, the blonde spoke with three men about her family.

Anpo studied the cabin and barn, wondering how a person could live cooped up in the same place all the time. She watched the men with the same suspicion they showed her, dark eyes constantly alert for any perceived danger. Eventually, Kathleen's conversation ended and she returned to her warrior with a smile. This family didn't know hers, but they knew of the frontier attacks that had resulted in her capture a few years earlier and where those had been located.

By that evening the trio camped near the Ohio. The blonde woman was excited and chattered on about the people at the cabin, explaining that there had been a wedding. It seemed that they were now only a few days away. All they had to do was follow the river south.

Eating her meal in silence, Anpo listened to her winuhca's voice. It was full of passion and anticipation. The lilting accent that would occasionally peek through was in full view now, even though Kathleen was speaking Lakota. The warrior decided it was good to see her woman this happy.

But a gnawing pain grew in her heart. And dread filled her mind.

Anpo led her pony along the trail, hand on his muzzle to keep him from making noise. Behind her, the blonde did the same, occasionally checking on Teca who was riding the grey mare.

The settlements became thicker as they traversed the river, more dangerous. The natives who had begun raiding the homesteads along the frontier a few years previous hadn't stopped. The small family had even been shot at once, Anpo narrowly being missed as the lead ball bit a chunk of wood from a tree behind her. There had been signs of war parties in the area, as well, so the trio slowed their pace to better cover their trail and avoid them.

Since the shooting three days earlier, they skirted all the settlements they came across only stopping long enough for Kathleen to verify that her family wasn't there. The telltale odor of woodsmoke beckoned the small family forward as they edged towards yet another homestead.

All of Anpo's senses were alert as she scanned the wooded area they traveled, searching for anything out of the ordinary that would signal danger. She caught the smoke on her nostrils as it mixed with the odd aroma that signified Kathleen's people. Dark eyes narrowed and studied the trees carefully, hand still covering the red stallion's muzzle.

There was the sudden click of a hammer pulling back, the crackling of undergrowth as a white man appeared. He had been hiding in the bushes and rose with a fluid motion, his musket aimed at Anpo's chest.

The warrior's only thought was to protect her family. She took a step sideways, forcing her steed to turn and block the trail before she froze.

"Aye, ye better stand still, ye damned animal," the man agreed, his accent much like the others of this area. He regarded her even as he kept careful aim with his weapon, noting the strange clothing. "Don't know who ye are, dog, but ye're definitely in the wrong place at the wrong time." One eye closed as he sighted down the barrel of the musket. "If ye've any gods, ye better say yer prayers to 'em."

As Anpo's mind raced for an avenue of escape, a voice drifted from behind the red stallion.

"Stewart...?"

The man's eye reopened, his finger relaxing on the musket trigger. He lifted his cheek from the stock, blue eyes suspicious.

"Stewart? Is that you?" Kathleen eased around the pony blocking her path, her heart thumping double time in her chest.

Anpo's own heartrate increased as her woman come out into the open. She watched as the white man slowly lowered his weapon, his mouth dropping open in amazement.

"K... K... Kath...?" he asked in a choked voice.

The blonde slowly smiled as she stepped forward. "Aye, Stew. It's me."

Stewart McGlashan blinked back sudden tears. He stumbled forward only to find his way blocked by a very large, very protective native brandishing a knife. The young man took a step backwards, lifting his musket but not quite setting it on his shoulder.

Dark eyes glared at the armed man. Anpo did not speak, but her threat was very clear.

Placing a gentle hand on her warrior's arm, Kathleen moved around Anpo. She rubbed the arm gently and waited. As expected, the wikoskalaka's eyes flickered from their target to the blonde's and were snared.

The white woman smiled reassuringly up at her winuhca, her hand still caressing. "He is my misun, Anpo. He is your sic'e." With firm pressure, Kathleen forced the arm holding the knife down. "He is family. I will be safe."

Anpo's eyes darted back to the young man. She found the same dark blue eyes looking at her, the same color hair on his head, the same general features of her woman on his face. Reluctantly, she sheathed her blade. Her face was of stone, her body tensed to attack, but she nodded with a stiff neck and took a short step to one side.

Sighing quietly with relief, Kathleen turned to her brother once again. A welcome smile spread across her face as she closed the distance between them.

The man barely had time to drop the musket barrel as his sister leapt into his arms. For the first time in over three years, the siblings embraced. Joy filled Stewart's heart and he let the weapon fall to the ground as he picked Kathleen up and swung her round and round.

To give them a modicum of privacy, Anpo returned to the horses and checked on Teca. She watched with some wariness from the corner of her eye, however, not trusting this man who had endangered her family.

"Inanup?" the toddler asked in a whisper. "Who that?" His dark eyes were round with curiosity as his mother cavorted with this stranger.

Anpo looked fully at the siblings, a part of her heart warming at Kathleen's delighted giggle drifting towards her. "He is her misun, Teca. Your leksi."

Teca considered this for a moment. "As Nupa?"

"Ohan, young warrior. As Nupa."

With quite a bit of interest, the boy watched his ina as she greeted her brother.

Tears spilled freely from both their eyes as Stewart set his sister down. He grabbed her shoulders and held her at arms length. "Where have ye been, Kath? We thought ye dead like all the others!"

"It's a long story, Stew," the blonde evaded, a wide, silly grin plastered on her face. "I'll tell ye all about it later." Kathleen looked behind her, waving her family closer. "First, let me introduce you to someone."

Steeling herself, Anpo swung their cinksi into her arms and carried him closer.

Stewart's eyes widened in surprise at the toddler. He quickly glanced at his sister, searching for confirmation.

A satisfied grin crossed the blonde's face. "Stewart, I'd like to introduce ye to your nephew, Teca. Teca, this is your uncle, Stewart."

"Hau, leksi," the toddler said, holding his hand up in the signal for peace.

"English, cinksi," Kathleen murmured. "Stewart does not understand Lakota."

Surprised, Teca blinked for a moment before repeating himself. "Hello, uncle."

The man's face broke into a wondrous grin. "Hello, nephew! It's good to meet ye!" His attention turned to Kathleen. "I'm so happy for ye, sis!"

"Thank ye, Stew," the woman responded with a blush, dropping her gaze for a moment.

"And who is this?" Stewart asked, indicating the tall, silent warrior, his voice lowering in distaste.

Caught up in her own thoughts, the blonde didn't hear the change in his voice. Aye, lass. Explain this one, eh? "This is Anpo...." Kathleen chewed her upper lip in thought. "My... um.... Anpo is my partner," she finally blurted. Oh, that was good....

"Partner...?" The man's brow furrowed in confusion. "Yer husband, then?"

"Hiya. Uh.... I mean, no, Anpo's not my... uh... husband." How to explain to yer little brother that ye've been sleepin' with a woman for the last three years...?

The warrior's attention slowly turned to Kathleen, watching as the blonde blushed and fidgeted, wondering what the problem was.

Stewart was doing the same, lower lip pursed out in thought. He looked suspiciously at the native, beginning to bristle. "Well, if he's not yer husband, then what is he?"

Refusing to look at either of them, Kathleen stared off into the woods, still gnawing on her upper lip.

Anpo decided to take matters into her own hands. "I am her woman as she is mine," she stated in English.

Dark blue eyes narrowed at the pronouncement as the man reconsidered the warrior's gender. "Yer a woman then?" he asked, full of disbelief as he looked her up and down.

"Ohan," the dark woman nodded. Looking to Kathleen, she was surprised to find the pale skin was flushed even darker. Confused, Anpo reached out and touched her winuhca's shoulder. As the blonde inched away from the hand, a thought hit the warrior with sudden ferocity. Ketlin is ashamed of me! Anpo almost took a step back from them as the shock filled her.

Sensing the sudden tension, the toddler in Anpo's arms said, "Inanup...?"

"Do not worry, cinksi," the warrior calmed him in Lakota. "This is nothing of you." She gave him a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

Not quite convinced, Teca nevertheless remained silent.

Stewart puzzled over the warrior's phrase, not understanding its meaning. With a shrug and a shake of his head, he set it aside. "Well, Kath.... Let's get ye home, then! Mum and da will be so surprised!" He stooped and grabbed up his musket.

The mention of their parents brought Kathleen's attention away from her distress, a welcome distraction. "They are well?" she asked, peering at her brother.

"Aye, though older." The man reached for her hand and drew her along. "Mum always knew ye were alive. She's told us so many a time over the years."

"Really!?" was the shocked question.

Stewart nodded and continued on. "Aye, lass. She never doubted for a minute."

Watching the siblings move away, Anpo felt the burn of anger enter her heart. Ketlin is ashamed and does not even care if we follow. She looked to the toddler in her arms, seeing his mother in the shape of his face. Fighting the irrational emotion down, she smiled at Teca and brought him back to the horses. She is too excited about seeing her misun, her parents after so long. That is all. My winuhcala does care.

With that firmly in mind, the warrior planted their son back on his mother's saddle. "You will meet your unci and tunkasila now, Teca. The ones who raised your ina." Grabbing up the reins of all three mounts, she followed the trail ahead of her.

Rachel McGlashan worked the slab of bread dough with some force. She was up to her elbows in flour, a smudge of white even on her cheek. Thumping on the porch heralded the arrival of her son and she ignored it even as the door swung open behind her.

"Mum! You'll never guess what I found while huntin'!" Stewart exclaimed.

"Aye, lad, and that's a fact," the older woman responded, her voice vague with distraction. "I don't have time for guessin' games, Stewart. This dough's got to be set to rise for tomorrow's bakin'."

"Mum...?" came a tentative voice.

With an audible gasp, Rachel froze, floury hands grasping the edge of the table. Her heart tripled its beat as she recognized the voice, recalled the many times it had spoken to her in the past and in her dreams. She almost stopped breathing in the silence that followed.

"Mum, turn around," the voice said, soft and familiar.

The older woman refused, shaking her head. Her body seemed to be so tense, she was trembling, and tears filled her eyes. From behind, she could barely hear the whisper of soft footsteps that approached her. A warm hand was placed on her shoulder, forcing her to turn, to see who it was though she knew without a doubt.

"Mum," the blonde sighed, a bittersweet smile on her face. The smile faded to concern when her mother practically collapsed into her arms. Great sobs emanated from the older woman and Kathleen pulled her close.

"I knew ye weren't dead, Kathleen! I knew it!" Rachel babbled through her tears.

"Shhhh, mum.... I know. Stewart told me." The younger woman maneuvered the two of them to her parents' bed in one corner. Settling down, she held her mother tight, rocking slightly.

Standing awkwardly by the entrance, Stewart mumbled, "I'll go help with the horses." He dashed out, closing the door behind him.

Anpo had just lead the ponies into the yard as she saw the man - My sic'e - exit the cabin. Their eyes locked and they stared blankly at each other, unsure.

The mare nickered as Teca bounced on the saddle. Gaining his inanup's attention, he held out his arms in a demand.

Dark eyes quickly scanned the dooryard, appraising it for danger. They found what seemed to be common among these folk. A neat stone well, a chopping block with a pile of wood, a cluster of chickens scratching about. Anpo measured her woman's brother once again before making her decision.

She lifted him from the saddle. "Stay close, cinksi. We are not safe here."

Teca nodded, making a beeline for his colt as soon as his moccasins hit the ground.

Stewart watched with some vague envy as the toddler pulled the yearling towards the well, though who was leading who was debatable. Da wouldn't let me at the barn 'til I was near seven, he thought in amazement. Let alone take care of a horse!

There was a small trough to one side of the well and as the child's pony caught a whiff of water, it circled about and buried its nose in the welcome wetness. The sounds of drinking perked the ears of the other two mounts. In response, Anpo led them forward, as well. Soon the three were enjoying their fill, Teca whispering in his colt's ear and petting the mane.

Stewart finally shook himself and stepped down from the porch. "Ye said ye'd help with the horses.... So help," he mumbled to himself as he approached the well. Skirting around the dangerous native - She's a woman then? - he dropped a bucket into the water below and hoisted it upwards. With a practiced hand, he emptied it into the trough and repeated his action.

Once the trough was overflowing the young man pulled up a final bucket and dipped himself a bit of water using the ladle that hung nearby. As he leaned his head back to drink deeply, he could see the dark woman watching him. Swallowing, he flicked the ladle downwards, removing the dregs of water before handing it to her.

Keeping a wary eye on him, Anpo took the utensil. Dipping it into the fresh bucket, she asked, "Teca, do you want water?"

The toddler looked up from his pony. Nodding, he approached the warrior. Slurping mightily on the ladle, water ran down the sides of his face and sprinkled his bare chest. "Good, inanup!" he insisted with a nod before returning to the yearling. He led the animal away to a bit of grass.

As the wikoskalaka took a drink, Stewart studied her. He could see where he'd mistaken her gender - she didn't wear a dress like all the other women he'd seen. The shortsleeve shirt she wore was painted yellow with some kind of designs on white strips. She wore a breechclout like the warriors Stewart had caught sight of, a dirty white color hanging from her waist. Her legs were bare, showing brown skin and dust, white moccasins on her feet. A yellow feather stuck upright from her head and an eagle feather hung down, her dark hair pulled into two braids and wrapped with buckskin strips. About her neck were several necklaces - two or three it looked like - and the pouch that held a very modern hunting knife.

A sudden squawking grabbed his attention, and Stewart whirled to see the child chasing after chickens in the yard. His immediate response was an irrational anger and he actually took a step forward before stopping himself. No, lad! He's yer nephew! he reminded himself. It don't matter he looks like all those damn heathens in the wilderness.... He's blood!

Anpo watched the play of emotions cross the man's face. Her eyes narrowed at the curled lip of disgust and anger that was quickly washed away by a stubborn acceptance. "Teca," she called. "Come with me. You and I will ride my pony."

The promise of a ride with his inanup snagged the toddler's attention and he raced to her, leaping up into her arms with a whoop.

Kathleen held her distraught mother, rocking gently and murmuring soft words in response to the choked questions.

"Where've ye been, lass? What happened to ye?"

The younger woman continued her rocking. Probably best not to tell her everything, she considered. "I was captured by the Indians and they took me away."

Rachel nodded against her daughter's chest. "Aye. We found Adam in the field. The animals had left him there!" Angry blue eyes peered into Kathleen's. "It was two days before we heard of other attacks and checked on ye." She ducked her head back down, hugging the blonde close. "I'm so sorry, Kathleen," she whispered.

Returning the hug, the blonde smiled sadly. "There's nothin' to be sorry for, mum. No one knew the Indians would range so far north." And where would I be if it had been stopped before I was captured? What would I have? Rachel's voice broke into her reverie.

"Aye, lass. The menfolk all took up arms after that. Hunted that pack of heathens down and killed them all!"

Kathleen stopped rocking, confused. Brow furrowed, she pulled away from her mother. "When was this?"

Using her apron to wipe her face, still snuffling a bit, Rachel said, "Why, two or three days after we found Adam. That's why everyone thought ye dead. You weren't with them anymore." She paused in thought, her own face puzzled. "But what happened to ye, lass? Why weren't you there?"

Dark blue eyes closed in pain. That's why we kept moving west. They were running away from the attacks by my people. Hitching in a breath, Kathleen opened her eyes and looked at her mother. "I wasn't there because...." A well of sadness filled her heart. "Those weren't the Indians who had taken me, mum. The men killed a village of innocent people." Oh, God! Why'd they do something so idiotic!?

Rachel stared at her blankly for a moment before her face crumbled. "God ha' mercy," she whispered, eyes wide.

Kathleen nodded in agreement. She pulled fully away from her mother, remaining seated on the bed with her hands in her lap. "It's no wonder attacks have continued up and down the frontier."

The pair sat in silence for a moment. Sounds from outside filtered into the quietness, distracting them from their thoughts. A horse galloping and a child crowing in delight drifted in from the open windows.

As Rachel's eyes narrowed and mouth pursed, she said, "What in blazes is that?"

"The reason I'm here," Kathleen responded, a huge grin taking residence on her face. She rose to her feet and held out her hand. "Come with me, mum. I need to show ye something."

As they stepped out onto the porch, a reddish blur raced by. Stewart was out by the well, his attention on a large horse and its occupants as they trotted around the yard.

"What the...?" Rachel asked, stepping forward and off the porch. As she registered what she was seeing, she gasped and stumbled backwards.

Surprised at the response, Kathleen caught her mother before she could fall.

The older woman turned, panic in her eyes. Stepping back onto the porch, she hustled her daughter backwards toward the door. "Get inside! Quickly!"

Kathleen actually took two steps back before stopping in alarm. "Mum! It's not what ye think!" She fought off the frantic hands that pushed at her. "It's not an attack, mum! Yer safe! I'm safe!"

Seeing the altercation at the cabin, Anpo rode directly towards it, slowing as she neared. Her eyes uncertainly watched an elder woman struggling with her winuhca. Is this her ina? she wondered, pulling the pony short. Why are they fighting? Kathleen spoke to the older woman, soothing her as the Lakota watched. Sliding from the back of her steed, Anpo took a step forward. "Ketlin?"

The blonde saw her worried warrior and spoke over Rachel's stiff shoulder in Lakota. "It will be fine now, winuhcala. My ina is frightened and thought you were here to attack her."

Hearing the strange words from her daughter's mouth gave Rachel pause. The fight drained out of her as she peered closely into Kathleen's face.

Anpo's head tilted and her lips pursed in puzzlement as she considered this. "Why would she think I am on the warpath? I do not know her."

"My ina has heard of many attacks over the years, Anpo," Kathleen continued, her face a reflection of serious concern. "And you have seen evidence of many on the path of war here. My ina mistook you for one of those."

Nodding, Anpo could understand an honest mistake.

Stewart approached during the conversation, listening to the words roll off his sister's tongue. "What are ye sayin', sis?" he asked.

"I'm telling Anpo that mum is concerned for my safety and has made a mistake," the blonde responded. Looking at her mother, a distant part of her was astonished to realize she was eye to eye with the older woman. "You have made a mistake, mum."

"Ina!" Teca called from the pony. "Who that?"

The sound of the child's voice broke the reverie that mother and daughter had fallen into. Kathleen's face broke into a smile as she looked over the older woman's shoulder. Despite her fears, Rachel curiously turned to see who was speaking.

"Teca! This is your unci!" the blonde called back. She moved forward, steering her mother back out into the yard.

Anpo held out her arms as her cinksi dived into them. She set the toddler on the ground and watched as he approached the women. Seeing Kathleen's mother fully in the daylight, she studied her closely, noting the resemblance.

Kathleen knelt down and held her own arms out in encouragement. She hugged the toddler to her, the grin threatening to split her face in two. "Mum," she said, looking up at the older woman. "I'd like ye to meet Teca. Your grandson."

Her legs faltered and Rachel stumbled. Stewart dashed forward to catch her before she could do herself damage, easing her to the ground where she sat in astonishment. She was eye to eye with the child who was now leaning against his mother, an uncertain thumb stuck in his mouth and dark eyes regarding her solemnly.

"Teca. Say hello to your unci." As an afterthought, Kathleen added, "In English."

The toddler decided to be bashful. He pulled his thumb out, a shy smile crossing his face before he buried his head in the crook of his mother's neck.

Rachel finally found her voice, though it was shaky and weak. "My... my grandson?"

"Aye, mum," the blonde answered, settling down onto the ground and pulling her child into her lap. "Yer grandson."

Watching the two together, the older woman had no doubt her daughter was speaking the truth. Even as Kathleen brushed his unruly hair away from his face, the boy settled into his mother's arms and began playing with a necklace of some sort about her neck. While the coloring was definitely not of her family, Rachel could see the glimmer of her eldest in the child's facial structure. "How old is he?" she nearly croaked.

"About two and a half," the blonde answered with a soft smile. "As near as I can tell, he was born in January or February."

The red stallion snorted, drawing Rachel's attention. She eyed the stoic warrior holding the reins nearby, a shiver of fear coursing through her blood. "He the father?"

Kathleen blushed, dropping her gaze and looking away. And I haven't even told Stewart! she worried. How'm I going to tell my mum and da?

When no answer was forthcoming, Stewart piped up, "No, mum. That's a friend of Kath's. She's a woman."

It was bad enough her daughter had been kidnapped by the savages. Obviously she'd been raped by them to have a child so soon after her capture. I can do the math, Rachel thought. But, letting women dress and act like men, as well!? Heathens....

Anpo watched the disapproval settle onto her uncisi's face and wondered why it was there. A glance at her woman showed the same sort of befuddlement that had occurred earlier with her brother. Again the thought crossed her mind, My winuhcala is ashamed of me, and her heart ached.

Dismissing the dark woman, Rachel dusted off her hands and rose to her feet with the help of Stewart. "Well, lass," she said briskly. "Come inside! I've got to get the dough ready for tomorrow's bakin' still and then start on your father's dinner."

"Da?" the blonde asked, allowing herself to be sidetracked from her thoughts yet again. "How is he?" she questioned, rising herself and holding Teca's hand.

The three drifted into the cabin as the women talked and Anpo couldn't stop the pang of fear and anger as her dream/vision came to her.

Smiling fondly down at the childlike Anpo, the woman with yellow hair caressed her cheek. "Mahasanni ki," she repeated. She took the toddler's hand and walked away.

The light intensified until it surrounded the mother and child, so bright she had to hide her eyes. When she was able to see, there was nothing there.

The door closed and, though she could still hear her winuhca's voice inside, it was as if the dream had become real.

Stewart studied the woman beside him. She's pretty, he thought as he looked at her profile. His blue eyes drifted to the well muscled arms and legs. But I bet she'd take murder whoever tried anything she didn't like. He shook his head. I know I'm certainly not going to try anything!

His movement caught Anpo's attention and she turned to look at him, her eyes distant yet piercing.

The man shuddered. Damned if she isn't lookin' into my very soul! Swallowing hard, he said, "Well, if ye want, we can get yer horses something to eat...." and he waved at the barn.

Anpo considered his statement, her eyes drifting away from his to study the building he pointed at. The smell of horse and cattle dung was strong from it and she suspected that was where they kept their animals. Just like themselves. Cramped into their lodges and away from the world.

Stewart waved again and nodded, his eyebrows lifted in question. He wasn't even too sure she'd understood his words until she nodded as well and lead her mount towards the barn. With a sigh, he scooped up the reins on the spotted mare and followed, the colt trotting to keep up with its mother.

It was full dark and Anpo smoked her pipe as she sat on the ground near the porch. The evening had been full of strain and discomfort. She'd met her tunkasi when he'd returned from the fields. It seemed that he liked her even less than Stewart and Rachel did. The warrior had endured as much of his rude stares as she could, despite her winuhca explaining that he shouldn't watch her so intently. Anpo finally fled to the comfort of the darkness.

The only natural light was the waning moon overhead. A warm glow came from the windows of the cabin where the sounds of talking and laughing could be heard. Anpo took another puff of her tobacco, listening to her woman's laughter. She is happy now. She is with her family.

An irrational melancholy hit the dark woman as other thoughts invaded. She is ashamed of me. Her family is not mine, they hate me because of what I am. Anpo shook her head in irritation. How can they hate me if they do not know me? I do not understand.

Watching the tendrils of smoke rise from her beechwood pipe, her mind was far away. Is that why Ketlin is ashamed of me? Because of what I am? That didn't sound right, however, else the blonde would have been shamed in Anpo's presence long before they arrived here. Why is she ashamed of me here and not at home?

She recalled McGlashan intently questioning her about their relationship. When Anpo had told him they were joined, her woman dived into the conversation and deflected his questions elsewhere. Being joined as a Lakota is the same as being married for Ketlin's people. Is she ashamed that we are joined? Why? So many questions roiled about her thoughts, all of them aimed at Kathleen's strange behavior whenever mention of their bond came up. None of them were good, all casting shadows of doubt on what Anpo had always thought was firm and solid.

The door to the cabin opened and a man was silhouetted in the firelight before he stepped onto the porch and shut it behind him.

Anpo braced herself as the elder stepped into the yard and settled down nearby on the chopping block.

"Nice night," he began, pulling out his own pipe.

The warrior knew she couldn't ignore him. He's my tunkasi! An elder! But her culture forbade her to speak or look at him. Swallowing hard, she simply nodded.

McGlashan eyeballed her as he loaded the bowl with tobacco. "Don't talk much, do ye?" When no answer was forthcoming, he shook his head. "No, don't answer that. I just like statin' the obvious." He reached for the burning stick that Anpo had used to light her own pipe, pulling it from the ground and puffing contentedly.

They sat in awkward silence, smoke from their pipes mingling high above their heads.

The man sighed explosively. "Look, lass, I don't like yer kind," he began, pointing his pipe at her, his face showing annoyance. "Haven't since they killed my son-in-law and stole my daughter." He glanced back at the cabin, hearing Kathleen telling a story to his family. His face softened somewhat as he looked back at the warrior seated in the shadows. "But ye brought her back to me, to us. And fer that, I'm grateful."

Again, Anpo nodded. It is his way of thanking me.

"You just let me know if ye need anything before ye leave in the mornin'," McGlashan said, tapping the pipe against his bootheel. "We ain't got much, but we can give ye some kinda reward for bringing Kathleen home to us."

The warrior blinked, not understanding for a moment.

Rising to his feet, the older man put his pipe away and peered out over his dooryard. "Ye can sleep in the barn tonight." No further words were spoken as he returned to the cabin and went inside.

Dark eyes narrowed in puzzled thought. She replayed the short conversation in her mind several times, pulling out the bits and pieces and fitting them together. Anpo's eyes widened when the connections were made. My tunkasi thinks I am leaving my winuhca here! That I brought her home to stay!

The warrior surged to her feet in surprise and denial. "He does not understand," she murmured. "I must have Ketlin tell them we are joined, that she is my winuhcala." But the memory of meeting Stewart, of trying to explain to the blonde's parents, of Kathleen interrupting and changing the meanings of her words stopped Anpo.

Ketlin had no choice but to join with me, Anpo mused as she stepped silently onto the porch. She had been captured and was a slave. I won her in a wager. The warrior eased closer to the window and peered inside. What if she does not want to be with me...?

Kathleen was telling her family about one of Teca's many inquisitive altercations. This one was about the time he had found the basket of huckleberries and ended up inside, purple from head to toe. Her dark blue eyes were sparkling in joy as she held her sleeping son, the lilt of her accent sounding like music to Anpo's ears.

She seems so happy here. More happy than I have ever seen her. A lump developed in the warrior's throat. The vision reared it's ugly head once again.

Smiling fondly down at the childlike Anpo, the woman with yellow hair caressed her cheek. "Mahasanni ki," she repeated. She took the toddler's hand and walked away.

The light intensified until it surrounded the mother and child, so bright she had to hide her eyes. When she was able to see, there was nothing there.

Inside the cabin, Kathleen wound up her story, delighted at making her parents laugh. She thought she saw movement at the window but when she looked, no one was there.

McGlashan rose from his stool and stretched. "Well, I think it's high time to be off ta bed," he suggested.

Taking the hint, Rachel agreed, putting her knitting to one side. "Aye." She stood as well. "Kathleen, you and Teca can have your old bed in the loft. Do ye need help getting him up the ladder?"

Looking at the familiar rungs that led to where she had slept through her childhood, the blonde shook her head with a soft smile. "No, mum. I can make it blind with my hands tied. Teca won't make a difference." Kathleen looked out the window into the night with concern. "Where's Anpo?"

Her father, who'd been banking the fire in the hearth, looked over his shoulder as he replied. "Told her she could sleep in the barn tonight."

Kathleen's immediate feeling was one of denial. To not have her warrior close in her sleep would be difficult. She eyed her parents and brother who were blissfully ignorant and the words of rebellion dried up in her throat. It's only for tonight, lass. They don't know and ye haven't told them.... Tomorrow....

The older woman swept her daughter up into a hug, kissing her cheek lightly. "It's good to have ye home, Kathleen," she murmured. "Good night."

Distracted, the blonde smiled and returned the kiss, her arms still holding Teca. "It's good to be home, mum.... I've missed ye all so much." Tears stung her eyes though they didn't overflow.

Tears were in other eyes, as well, eyes that were dark and stormy with loss. Ketlin is home. Her home is not with me. Anpo turned away from the window and trudged back out to the yard, her shoulders sagging. When she comes to sleep, I will speak with her on this matter.

Kathleen rose early, as was her habit. The sky was still a dark grey, hardly visible through the cracks of the shutters that covered the window. With slow, gentle movements, she eased away from Teca and covered him with the blanket.

It had been a long and exhausting night. The combination of a stuffy interior, a strange bed and nightmares had made it difficult to sleep. That her warrior wasn't with her certainly hadn't helped matters any. It was only the one night, lass, the blonde consoled herself as she slipped her leather dress over her head.

Deciding that the toddler would still be asleep for a bit, she made her way to the top of the ladder. Peering past the hastily created divider - a sheet hanging from a rope - she found Stewart's bed unoccupied. Must be already up and about then. Kathleen quietly made her way down the steps.

She stepped out onto the porch, slowly closing the heavy wooden door so as not to disturb her parents sleeping nearby. Inhaling the cool morning air, the blonde stretched before relaxing to look about.

The sky was getting lighter and the yard was awash with several shades of grey. A chicken could be heard clucking nearby, the stamp of a horse echoing from the barn. Kathleen wondered if her warrior was awake yet and stepped off the porch. Hmmm.... Time for a cuddle, lass.

A flash of Anpo's confused face drifted across her vision before she banished it. Aye. Ye've gotta explain what happened yesterday! She shook her head ruefully. Why did it not occur to me that I'd have to clarify Anpo's presence with my family? I guess I just wasn't thinkin' too well last night.

With memories of the reunion playing in her mind, Kathleen approached the barn, a small smile on her face. The door was ajar and she slid inside without disturbing it. The warmth drifted over the blonde as she stood still for a moment, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darker interior.

One of the ponies nickered and the woman moved towards it, the smile still on her face as she recognized her own mount. Movement in the stall further on caught her eye as she held her hand out to the spotted mare, getting a welcome nuzzle in response.

"Stewart?"

A blond head popped up from the other side of Teca's pony. "Morning, sis!" her brother said.

Kathleen continued forward, a curious grin on her face. "What are you doing in there?"

As her sibling came into full view, he shrugged sheepishly and stepped forward to lean against the wooden railing. Stewart held up his hands, both adorned with brushes. "Just thought I'd have a look at yer horses. They're pretty dirty," he added, turning to look back at the yearling. "Don't those people know how to take care of 'em?"

Not liking his tone with "those people," Kathleen's smile faltered. "It's a completely different way of life, Stew. And the horses get quite a bit of attention." She shrugged as well. "And the Lakota don't have horsebrushes."

"Nor shoes, by the looks of it," Stewart agreed, heedless of the cultural lesson. He reached out and patted the grey on his neck. "Gotta admit, though, this fellah's a pretty healthy one. How long ye had him?"

The blonde looked away, distracted. "Just over a year. Anpo caught him for Teca." Scanning the barn, she asked, "Where is she? I don't see her pony."

"Pony!" Stewart exclaimed, turning around again. "That red bugger was huge! Hardly a 'pony'!"

Kathleen rolled her eyes. "Ye know what I mean, ye brat." Her eyes searching the interior again, she continued, "No, really.... Where's Anpo?"

The young man turned back to the grey yearling. "Already left."

The blonde felt the world fall out from under her and she caught the stall to remain on her feet. "Wh... wh... what!?"

Unaware of his sister's anxiety, Stewart's attention remained on the horse. "She was all packed up when I got in here." Taking the brushes, he began to vigorously move them across the grey hide. "I offered some supplies, but she turned me down. Honestly, sis, after she left I had a look around. I don't think she slept last night. At least she didn't look it this morning. She gave me something for ye, though."

She left me...? Kathleen shook her head, trying to rid it of the numbness that threatened her vision. She left me!! "Did she.... Did she say anything?" she asked, surprised her voice didn't crack.

"Aye, she did." Her brother turned to look at her, his face becoming concerned. He hastily dropped the brushes and moved forward. "Kath? Ye okay? Ye look like ye've seen a ghost!"

With surprising strength, the blonde grabbed Stewart by the arm. "What did she say to you!? Exactly!"

Stewart winced a bit as fingers dug into the skin of his forearm. "Something about ye being happier here and yer home wasn't with her. She said she was throwin' ye away, but I took that to be her ignorance and not knowing the right words." His eyes widened as he watched his sister turn even whiter. "Sis?"

Kathleen's fingers released his arm and she turned to stumble towards the door. She barely made it outside before she fell to her hands and knees. Strong arms held her shoulder and she could hear her brother's voice from a distance. His words were indistinct, drowned out by her own thoughts.

She threw me away! Divorced me!! She thinks I want to stay here!! Oh my God! I should have come to her last night! I should have talked with her, slept with her, held her! How could she do this!?

Curling into a little ball, the blonde felt as if her head and chest and throat were going to explode. Great braying sobs racked her body and she trembled with their force. Something metallic was pressed into her hands and she found the tin whistle with its braided leather decorations.

Miles away and heading north, a reddish horse galloped at full speed, its rider barely keeping attention on the terrain. Dark eyes wept for the loss of a loved one, a heart closed away from the pain. Anpo was too far away to hear her winuhca's scream, too far away to feel its power.

"NO!!"

Chapter 11

Mikiyela Ksto
(mee-kee-yeh-lah ke-she-toh)

She is Near Me

1782

Nupa Olowan smoked his pipe in silence as he watched the proceedings across the fire. It had warmed up considerably in the last moon and Wagmiza Wagna's camp was preparing to leave winter camp in the next few days. The warrior inhaled deeply of the smoke, worry on his mind.

His woman, Hca Wanahca, spoke in calming murmurs to her sister, brushing the unruly dark hair.

When Wi Ile Anpo's pony had stumbled into camp the previous moon, all had been surprised. To travel alone through the winter was unthinkable, stuff only legends were made of. The woman's health had reflected the hardships she'd put herself through - her clothes more rags than not, raven hair filthy and matted, cheeks gaunt from lack of food.

No one knew how Anpo had found their winter camp. No one knew what had happened to Kathleen and Teca. The winyan wouldn't speak. It was if her tongue had frozen in her mouth - no amount of gentle questioning or prodding could get an answer.

She is only half a person, came Nupa's grim thought, dark eyes stormy with concern.

The people spoke of the white woman and her child being dead and that Anpo was in mourning. But her hair was still long, her arms showing no signs of the cuts she would have inflicted upon herself in her lamentation. There was some confusion because of this - only winyan did these things in mourning, wicasa did not. The warrior was an enigma in that area, being neither wholly female or male. If something had happened to her family, would Anpo respond in the proper feminine manner?

When the winyan had awakened in her ina's lodge, she had immediately staggered out of her sleeping robes and stepped outside, robes in hand. Her feet took her to where Kathleen's ti ikceya would have been and she curled up on the cold, hard ground. Since that time, Hca and Waniyetu Gi had set the lodge as if the blonde woman were still present, and Anpo resided there.

The shaman, Inyan Ceye, had spent time with her and proclaimed she was haunted by her own demons. With food and love she would eventually fight through and return to them. All his visions attested to this.

And so, Nupa and his family spent their nights more often than not at Kathleen's ti ikceya, taking care of Anpo. The regular feeding had done her a world of good, the woman's skin no longer hanging on her bones. Her cuwe and ina repaired or replaced her clothing and kept her clean and warm. Wanbli Zi and Nupa sat with her in silence, emanating a quiet support.

Tapping the ashes out into the fire, Nupa stared into the flames. His woman's voice sang a low song to Yus'as'a, the baby asleep in her arms. Anpo's gaze was also on the dancing fire, her hair now neatly braided.

Movement caught the wicasa's eye and he looked up from the fire at his tanksi. He watched as she pulled the rawhide ties from her hair. Long fingers raked through the ebony locks, freeing them from the braids as she always did.

A thought came to Nupa's mind and he blinked in recognition. A warrior who wears his hair loose only means one thing. "You are willing to do desperate things, tanksi," he said, his voice low.

Hca's voice faded as she looked up at them, a slightly puzzled expression on her face. She let out a soft gasp as her mitan slowly nodded her head.

Heart in his throat at the response, Nupa leaned closer. His friend's dark eyes were still on the flames, but he could see them shining and tiny muscles in her face twitched as she tried to keep control. "Why?" he whispered.

There was a long silence, as there always seemed to be with Anpo. Nupa almost gave up, preparing to straighten a bit and continue his worrying. A sound stopped him.

With a voice that hadn't been used in months, the winyan croaked, "Mahasanni ki."

Frozen, Hca and Nupa stared blankly at each other. Neither wanted to move or speak, to disrupt this first contact with the emotionally wounded warrior. Anpo said nothing further so the wicasa took a bracing breath.

"Why is she not with you?"

Another long silence that left Nupa thinking she wouldn't answer.

"Winuhcala is ashamed of me."

Nupa's brow furrowed, his mouth pulling down in a frown. Searching his mind for something to say, he finally spoke. "I do not understand, tanksi. Ketlin has always been proud of you. You are a great warrior and hunter for your family."

The tears finally spilled over and ran down Anpo's face, twin streaks of light reflecting from the fire. "Hiya, she is not proud of me," she said, her voice strengthening with conviction. "She is ashamed."

Unable to simply watch, Hca settled the baby down on some nearby furs and scooted closer, draping an arm about her sister's shoulder, her hand rubbing Anpo's upper arm. "Why do you say this, mitankala?" she prodded gently.

"She would not speak to me, would not explain to her ate and ina that we were joined." Anpo's tears increased their pace. "Her ate thought I only brought her home to them. That we were not just visiting."

Hca's eyes narrowed at her stepan's strange behavior. "That makes no sense, Anpo," she murmured, shaking her head.

With a forlorn shrug, Anpo dropped her head. "I was left to sleep with the animals. She did not even come to speak to me, to sleep with me. I was not welcome in her parents' lodge."

"What happened to Ketlin and Teca, tanksi?" Nupa asked, his gaze intense on his friend.

A sob could be heard from the mass of dark hair that hung down. "Ketlin said she was happy to be home." The head shook. "She would not come to me. I threw her away," came the whisper.

As more sobs racked Anpo's body, her sister cuddled her close and the warrior allowed it, crying onto Hca's shoulder as a small child.

"I will get your ina," Nupa said to his woman and rising to his feet. At Hca's nod, he left the fire, striding towards the fire of Wanbli.

How could Ketlin do this to her? was the angry thought that repeated itself in his head.

Kathleen's sleep was shattered by a piercing scream. As she floundered awake, the grumblings of her brother could be heard nearby. Instinctively, the blonde reached for Teca, even as he screamed again.

With practiced movements, she pulled the rigid little body into her arms and began rocking and singing in an effort to dispel the nightmare. The toddler fought her off, his screams fading to loud crying as he chattered in Lakota.

"Hiya! Hiya, go 'way!" Teca battled his imaginary attacker, scoring a fist to his mother's temple before she could pin his arms.

Kathleen didn't quite see stars and it amazed her again how strong her son was. She continued to rock and sing, holding the toddler as still as she was able while he cried out.

The divider in the loft was tweaked to one side and Stewart eyeballed the pair, his face haggard. "What's he sayin'?" he grumbled. He received a glare in response and held up his hands in surrender. "Alright! I won't interrupt ye at work!" The young man pulled the divider back into place.

More sounds of movement below alerted Kathleen to her mother's presence and the ladder creaked.

A grey-blonde head poked over the edge of the floor. "I'll set the water to heatin'," she informed her daughter with a weary voice.

Kathleen only nodded, not breaking in her ministrations to her son. As her mother disappeared back downstairs, she peered into Teca's face.

The toddler's dark eyes were wide with fear, seeing things that no one could see. It had been this way all winter, these nightmares that would roust him and all in the house to wakefulness. It would take several minutes for the boy to wake, despite his activities and screeching, and he never remembered what it was that had caused the dreams.

Soon, Teca was no longer fighting his ina, curled up into a fetal ball in her arms and sobbing uncontrollably. Kathleen continued to speak to him in his native tongue, telling him a story of the creation of the world. Her voice soothed him, eased him, and the crying eventually drifted off.

When there were no more sounds but the hitching of his breath, the blonde adjusted her hold on Teca, cradling him. She peered down into sleepy red eyes. "Cinksi? Are you well?"

Having some difficulty focusing, the toddler nodded and hugged his mother's neck. "Tired, ina," he mumbled.

With a relieved sigh at another crisis averted, Kathleen laid her son down in her bed. She kissed his forehead and tucked him in as he reached for the rag doll he now slept with, cuddling it to his small chest. The blonde continued to hum an Irish tune, caressing his soft hair until he was asleep.

Kathleen sighed again and closed her eyes. The thought of climbing back into the warm bed and returning to sleep herself was very tempting. She could hear her mother puttering around downstairs, however, and she forced her eyes open. Now's not the time, lass.

The young woman pushed herself up and grabbed her robe, pulling it about her. She eyed the bed with regret as she walked to the ladder and eased her way down.

"Good luck, sis," Stewart whispered just before her head dropped below the loft floor.

A quick glance to the right and she could see her brother wink and smile encouragingly. The blonde smiled thanks as she continued on.

The coals had been stirred back into flame, the only light in the cabin. In the murky shadows, Kathleen could see her father facing the wall in his own bed, pillow held firmly over his head. Sorry again, da....

Her mother finished putting the tea into two cups on the table. She waved her daughter to a bench and retrieved the kettle before it could boil over and douse the flames. Rachel poured the hot liquid into the cups, tea leaves swirling about with the steam.

Kathleen sat, her profile to the fire. She idly peered into the cup pushed in her direction. Gypsies can see my fortune in tea leaves, she mused. I wonder what kind of bad luck they'd see tonight....

"Don't let it worry ye none, lass," Rachel spoke in a low voice. "'Tis the curse of the O'Neill's and that's a fact. The lad'll get over it in time."

"Curse?" The blonde looked up from her cup, dark blue eyes concerned. "I've not heard of a curse before, mum."

The older woman shrugged. "Yer the first born, Kath. Ye had the night terrors as a child, too, though ye don't remember. As did I and your granny's brother, Malcolm." Rachel lifted her cup to blow on the tea. "The boy'll outgrow it in a year or so."

Irritable, Kathleen shook her head. "He has a name, mum."

"A heathen name," her mother murmured before taking a sip.

Kathleen rolled her eyes and looked back at the fire, pushing her own cup away. Silence filled the room, tension ringing in the air as the tired argument was met once again.

Rachel set the cup down, her face one of concern. "Why don't ye give the boy a Christian name?" she asked for the hundredth time. "And stop lettin' him speak that gibberish?"

"That 'gibberish' is Lakota and it's Teca's language," Kathleen responded, her voice low and hard. Before her mother could speak, she held up her hand. "I know, I know! He's Irish, too. But that's neither here nor there. He knows English, as well."

The older woman sighed explosively, her mouth pursed in disapproval. "Aye, but there's no one here that speaks Lakota, lass. In case ye haven't noticed," she said, her tone sarcastic.

Kathleen's heart ached at the dig, but she refused to allow her mother to see the damage. "I speak Lakota, mum. And someday, Teca'll want to know about his people. I will keep that alive for him."

Another silence drifted over the table. Finally, Rachel reached out and took her daughter's hand. "Kathleen," she said, her voice soft with caring. "I love ye. And I love the boy. But he'll not fit in at this rate." She waved her hand vaguely. "At weddings and barn raisings and such, he'll be a stranger to the rest of his own people."

It was the blonde's turn to sigh. "I understand your concern, mum. But, I will not change my mind on the matter." She squeezed her mother's hand. "I don't know how to explain it to ye. I don't feel that Teca's meant to be here."

"That woman won't be back to get him, if that's what ye mean," Rachel snapped, pulling her hand away and turned to the fire. She missed the look of pain that flashed across her daughter's face.

"Aye," Kathleen whispered. Her voice firmed as she continued. "But I expect Teca will want to know of his people, of his inanup. I'll not keep that from him. They are good people."

Shaking her head in disapproval, Rachel looked sidelong at her eldest child. "Do ye know what the Widow Smythe has to say about it?"

Burning with anger, the blonde's eyes flashed. "No, mum. And I don't care to know. I've told ye before, I'll not marry again. Least of all, the Widow Smythe." Kathleen pushed away from the table, her cup still sitting full. "I'm to bed. It's late."

She was halfway up the ladder when she heard her name called. Looking over her shoulder, she saw her mother. Sweet Jesus, she's gettin' old!

"I love ye, Kath. Ye know that...?"

Kathleen ducked her head a moment before peering down at her mother once again. "Aye, mum. I know. Ye want what's best for me and mine, just as I want what's best for Teca."

Rachel awkwardly nodded, not liking the comparison but accepting it nonetheless.

"Good night, mum."

"Good night, Kath."

The Commanche horse thieves had been put down, the stolen ponies returned and the warriors victorious against a vicious foe. Anpo had put down two of the enemy herself, shining through the battle with furious skill. The celebratory feast was in full swing as night fell. The council fire burned high and the wicasa danced about it, dressed in their finest clothing and reenacting their deeds of the day.

Despite the noise of drums, flutes, singing and whooping, a bubble of stillness surrounded Anpo. She sat with her family and friends, smiling pleasantly and responding to their comments. But, the warrior did not participate in the celebration, preferring to float along as a spectator.

It had been many moons since her return home. Now, the air was heavy with late summer, hot and dry in defiance of the evening breeze. Summer camp and the Sun Dance ceremony had come and gone. In that time, Anpo had basked in the love of her family, regaining her emotional equilibrium. But she never laughed and rarely spoke first.

And she never danced.

A koskalaka wore a mask over his face as he entered the cleared area around the fire. The lower half of it was painted white, two red and yellow thunder bolts drawn beneath. He danced about the fire, his hair free flowing and wearing a yellow shirt, chasing the 'enemy.' Two 'died' under his knife and the surrounding spectators cheered, their eyes drawn to who the dance was representing.

Anpo accepted their praise with grace, a slight smile on her face. Not many noticed that it didn't quite reach her eyes. And no one knew how heavy her heart was. I still live.

Eventually, it became late and the elders drifted away into the darkness. Young mothers brought their children away to sleep. And, as soon as it was polite to do so, Anpo left as well.

The warrior didn't know where she was going. Her only goal was to remain away from the ti ikceya for as long as possible. She let her moccasins guide her, following a game trail once she was away from the encampment. Anpo found herself on a small hill near a tree. Here, she settled down to watch the camp, long fingers idly shredding twigs.

The memory of another tree, another vigil came to mind and the warrior couldn't help but allow a sad smile cross her face. My maiden vision quest. And, after sitting their all day, she had had nothing to show for it. I was so determined to have a vision. Nothing else would do. The smile faded and her face relaxed into its now normal distracted frown. My vision was my curse. I should never have demanded it.

Anpo sighed heavily and watched as the merriment at the council fire continued, a slightly wistful look to her eyes. As usual, her thoughts rambled over the same well-worn path. The one that took her to where she didn't want to go.

Would it have been different if I did not have the vision? If I did not kill tatanka ska? Her ate's voice filled her head. "Be still in your heart, cunksi. Do not worry the vision so. It will not change and will only make you crazy with grief and fear."

"Ohan. I am crazy with grief and fear," she whispered aloud, her voice harsh in the quiet.

Her father had been wrong. The vision had changed, her cinksi becoming entangled in her dreams as he held his mother's hand. And now it had changed again, never giving her peace.

The woman wore the dress of her people, green gingham, her hair long and hanging free. A man had his arm about her waist, grinning at Anpo as she knelt in the dirt. It was a stranger, leering and possessive of the blonde, his meaty hands holding her close.

"Mahasanni ki," the warrior croaked out, her voice ragged. She raised a bloody hand in supplication, a sharp pain in her side from where she'd speared tatanka ska.

The woman either did not hear or ignored the cry. She turned away, walking into the brilliant light on the arm of the man with her, a sweet smile on her face.

And Teca was nowhere to be seen.

Anpo shook her head to clear the vision. With weary eyes, she looked up at the moon. "Take this vision from me." Silence was her only answer and she sighed heavily, bowing her neck and staring into her hands as another twig was shredded. "Please...."

It was dark, the breeze coming off the nearby creek cooling the oppressive heat of summer. Kathleen lay on her back, staring up at the moon as she finished her tale. Nearby, Stewart sat with his long legs crossed at the ankles, leaning back on his hands. The boy had his head pillowed on the blonde's stomach, his eyes closed and his breathing even. The three had fled the cabin after a fine Sunday supper, preferring to be away from their elders and the heated interior.

Kathleen gently brushed long dark hair from her son's forehead, her other hand supporting her head. He's grown so big! she marveled. A melancholy washed over her. I wish Anpo could see him. She would be so proud!

"What does that word mean?" Stewart asked. "Inyan?"

Distracted from her thoughts, the blonde craned her neck to peer over at her brother. She could barely see him in the dark. "It means 'stone'."

Puzzlement crossed the young man's handsome face. "Isn't that the same word you use when you tell about the creation of the world?"

The woman nodded, pleased her sibling had made the connection. "Yes, it is." She relaxed her neck to look back up at the lunar orb hanging far away. "Inyan didn't used to be like it is, brittle and hard. It was the first and began creation by draining its blood to create Maka."

"Earth," Stewart supplied.

"Aye, the Earth. And, as more things were needed for Maka, Inyan continued to drain its blood, losing its energy along the way." Kathleen inhaled deeply of the cool air. "When everything had been made, Inyan was scattered all over the world."

A comfortable silence fell between them. Teca mumbled and rolled over, tucking a hand beneath his chin. His breathing deepened as he slipped into the land of dreams. Kathleen continued to gently caress his temple, brushing the soft hair away from his face. Her brother sat forward and pulled out a pipe and tobacco.

The months had been long, longer than Kathleen could ever remember them being. Never a day went by that she didn't think of her warrior. Her initial thoughts of abandonment and anger had given way to a deep sorrow that wouldn't let go. The blonde felt so hollow some days that it hardly seemed worth getting out of bed. Only Teca kept her going. His welfare and well being was above all other considerations.

I'd have been dead long ago without him.

To pass the time, Kathleen resumed old chores within the household, helping her mother with the work. She'd also spent quite a deal of time trying to change Stewart's mind about the 'heathens'. The blonde had even gotten him to begin speaking Lakota - but only when he wasn't around their parents. There was plenty enough stress regarding that little foible already.

There had been three suitors that her parents had paraded before her. Kathleen had scorned them all, much to her mother's distress and fury. "Ye've got to have a husband, Kathleen Sarah McGlashan!" the older woman would exclaim.

"Why won't ye remarry, Kath?" came the soft question from the dark.

Kathleen closed her eyes against the sudden lump in her throat. "I've told ye before, Stew. I belong to another."

The man puffed his pipe in thought. "Aye. That ye've said. But ye haven't told me who. Or why yer here instead of with him." More silence broken only the crickets in the coolness. "It's eatin' ye up inside, lass! Ye've got to know that ye can talk to me about anything!"

Inhaling deeply, her breath hitching in her chest as she fought off tears, the blonde nodded. "I know, Stew," she whispered, barely audible. Her mind was awhirl with thoughts, her heart heavy with emotion.

Stewart scooted closer, peering down at his sister, his pipe forgotten in one hand. "And don't think ye can distract me from the subject again," he informed her in all seriousness. "I'll not be chased away this night."

Kathleen didn't know if she should laugh at his tenacity or cry. She opted for neither, preferring to worry her lower lip. Ye've got to tell someone, lass. Question is, what will the brat think of ye now? Fallin' in love with a woman, for pity's sake. Marryin' her.... She closed her eyes, smelling Anpo in the night breeze, feeling warm skin against hers, holding her, protecting her. God, I miss her so much!

"Kath...?"

Opening her eyes, the blonde looked up at her brother silhouetted against the moon. She studied him closely, not knowing what she was looking for, nor if she found it.

Stewart's voice lowered. "Sis...? It'll be okay, I swear it." The pain and concern for her was evident as he reached out a hand to brush his knuckles against her temple.

Despite herself, a sob welled up from Kathleen's throat at the touch. She sat up, gently easing Teca's head into her lap as she fought with the tears. Her back was now to Stewart and she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"I love ye, ye know," the young man murmured. "I want to see ye happy, Kathleen. And yer not happy here. Tell me...?"

"Ye've already met who has my heart."

Stewart's hand continued to rub his sister's shoulder as he turned that around in his head. He searched his memory, trying to figure out the cryptic statement. There's only one other Indian I've met, he thought with puzzlement. A picture developed of a native woman wearing men's clothing, a yellow shirt and angry dark eyes glaring at him. But that would mean....

The hand on her shoulder froze as did Kathleen's heart. He knows. He understands now.

"That Indian you came with...? Anpo?" Stewart asked, confusion in his tone.

The blonde could only nod, the struggle with her tears capturing her voice.

"B... but.... Anpo's a woman, Kath. Ye can't belong to her." He felt the woman pull away from his hand. Can she?

Damp blue eyes glared over her shoulder at him. "I do belong to her!" Kathleen insisted. "She might have thrown me away, but she owns my heart and soul." She threw me away! The thought echoed in her head and she turned back around as tears began to course down her face. I was so stupid!

Stewart discarded his pipe and scooted closer, pulling the crying woman into his arms. "Shhh," he murmured as she relaxed into his embrace, babbling.

"I was so stupid that night, Stew. I should never have left her alone, left her to sleep in the barn. I should have told ye and mum and da about what she meant to me from the beginning. Anpo tried, I know, but I kept interruptin' and changin' the subject. I didn't know what to say, what to do." Kathleen finally buried her face in his chest as she wept. "She thinks I don't love her. I can never forgive myself."

The crying went on for some time, though Kathleen's sobs were quiet. Stewart had heard them before, late at night when his sister had thought all were asleep. His mind was awhirl with thoughts, connections being made, sorrow that his sibling had so much pain in her heart. There was movement and he looked down to see his nephew watching, dark eyes concerned.

"Ina?" Teca whispered, his little hand reaching up to touch his mother's cheek. "Do not cry. Inanup loves you. And she loves me, too."

This only served to strengthen Kathleen's tears. She gathered her son into her arms and the three of them cuddled together to support her maelstrom of emotion.

1783

She approached the figure huddled on the hillside, pulling her shawl closer with aching fingers. It was inadequate protection against the icy tendrils of wind that whipped about her, freezing her very soul as it howled. Coldness also gripped her heart as she neared the familiar figure. The warrior's back was to her, a thin robe ruffling loosely as the wind teased its edges.

"Mahasanni ki?" she breathed.

There was no answer. With hesitant hand, she reached out to touch the warrior's shoulder, to urge her awake, to make some sort of contact.

The warrior was ice.

Unable to pull away, to flee what she knew she would find, she shook the warrior. With absurd slowness, the warrior toppled backwards into the snow. The naturally dark skin was pale and gray, the eyes open and unseeing with a thin layer of frost covering the lenses.

Feeling as if she'd been punched in the stomach, she stumbled back a step, gasping for air. Her lungs ached from the winter cold and she whirled around to run away.

Below her was a small hollow full of Lakota lodges, many of them familiar. There were no warm fires, no sign of movement, not even the whiffle of ponies. Frozen bodies lay everywhere in the camp.

"Anpo!" Kathleen gasped as she sat up, blue eyes wildly searching the loft for the scene she'd just left. Darkness met her gaze, a claustrophobic sensation washing over her. Heart thumping madly, the blonde tossed off her blankets and fled down the ladder.

Standing outside on the porch, she gulped the cold air of early spring. The blonde shivered with fear and cold, her breath drifting away in clouds of steam, her feet bare upon the rough wooden planks. Teeth chattering, Kathleen wrapped her arms about herself as she stared out over the yard.

The nightmare rolled around in her head, not letting her go as it worried her soul with sharp teeth. She could still feel the snow on her face, feel the wind whipping at her clothing, smell the faint odor of musty decay. Never had a nightmare been so real. Questions whisked in and out between the scenes and emotions that played out, adding to her mental maelstrom.

Was that a vision? And if it was, what does it mean?

Kathleen took a shaky breath and stepped from the porch. Her feet hardly flinched from the icy ground as she made her way to the barn. Soon, she was inside, the warmth of the animals causing her to shiver even more. She neared the stall her pony was in, hearing the soft nicker of welcome and feeling a nose nuzzle her hair. With relief, she hugged the spotted mare's neck and buried her face in the long mane.

If it is a vision.... Has it already happened? Or is it the future? The sight of her warrior dead and frozen in the snow caused a sob to well in her throat. In silence, Kathleen wept her fear and worry onto her steed.

Is it possible to change a vision?

Several days later, the McGlashan siblings were in the barn, Stewart milked the cow while his sister collected eggs. Teca visited with his pony nearby, perched on the stall fencing and explaining in patient Lakota how they would ride like the wind this year.

Kathleen heard her son mention inanup several times, her heart seizing in her chest with each repetition. What am I going to do? she asked herself for the millionth time. He deserves to know his family.... All his family.

"Yer nightmares are gettin' worse, sis," Stewart spoke up, breaking the silence between them. He peered sideways at her, his cheek against the cow's warm side as he worked the udders. "Ye've got shadows under yer eyes and ye haven't spent a full night in bed for a week."

The woman turned away from his gaze, reaching into a wooden box and pulling a brown egg out. Setting it in her basket, she shrugged. "Aye, I'll not lie to ye, Stew. It'll pass."

"Will it?" her brother murmured.

Pretending not to hear him, Kathleen finished finding the last of the eggs.

Stewart sighed and decided to change the topic. "Why do ye think she left ye here? Threw ye away?" he asked, damning himself for having to hurt her. But she's got to do something or she's goin' to waste away!

Kathleen froze, shoulders tense, a lump in her throat. Forcing herself to breathe evenly, she answered, "Because she thinks I don't love her."

"Because ye let her sleep in the barn, right? Didn't tell the folks about the two of ye? Didn't go to her that night?" the man prodded. Behind him, he could hear his nephew trail off into silence as he listened for the answer.

"Aye, Stew," the blonde said with an explosive sigh, a tenacious hold on her emotions. "And what that's got to do with anything now is beyond me." She twitched her skirts with her free hand and made her way towards the barn door.

"Well, I think it's high time ye stopped feelin' sorry fer yerself and did something about it, is all!" Stewart's voice rang out clearly just as she reached the doorway.

Kathleen halted, looking out at the early morning yard, eyes unseeing. Anger flared and she whirled about, set the basket and its precious cargo down and stomped forward with blue eyes flashing.

To give her brother credit, he didn't flinch away as she loomed over him, rage on her face. Instead, he continued to milk the cow, his body language showing unconcern.

"And what would ye have me do, Stewart Franklin?" the woman demanded in a hiss.

Aye, yer in fer it now, laddy, he thought at the use of his middle name. The man swallowed nervously but refused to turn. As he finished with the cow, he shrugged and spoke with the nonchalance he didn't feel. "Make up yer mind, sis. Ye won't remarry, though mum and da have paraded half the eligible bachelors through here the last year and a half. Ye won't give Teca there a Christian name or forbid him to speak that infernal language. Ye won't even let mum cut his hair!"

As Stewart rose to his feet, pulling the pail out from under the cow, his sister could only stand and stare at him in shock. After a few moments passed, she began to sputter in fury, unable to speak through the emotion. They were both surprised when she slapped him across the face.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh rang through the suddenly quiet barn. The man didn't respond, only looked down at his sister as a red handprint blossomed on his cheek.

Teca interrupted the tableau as he threw himself from his seat and wormed his way between them. "You leave my ina alone!" he insisted with all the scorn he could muster, pushing his uncle away. "You will not touch her! Inanup said to protect her!"

The man took a step backwards to appease the young boy. His mouth quirked in a crooked smile. "Hanka has raised him well," he told Kathleen in Lakota.

Kathleen blinked, her eyes narrowed in confusion as she placed the word. The fury drained from her face and she reached down to touch her son's shoulder. "Thank you, Teca. It is not as it seems."

Anxiously looking up to his mother, the boy studied her face for clues.

The woman smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder. "You have done a fine job of protecting me, cinksi. Inanup will be very proud."

Teca allowed his stern look to fade into a pleased expression and he turned to the blonde, hugging her close. "When will we see inanup again?" he asked, his voice muffled against her skirts. "I miss her."

"I do not know, cinksi," Kathleen murmured, her throat tight and eyes burning.

Stewart settled the pail of milk down. Draping an arm across the broad back of the cow, he leaned against it as he watched the pair. Now's the time, lad. "What's stoppin' ye from goin' to her, Kath?"

With a weary sigh, the blonde shook her head. "What do ye think, Stew? It's not easy for a woman to travel so far without horrible accidents befallin' her." She looked up at him, her lips pursed in exasperation. "Would ye have me take my son into the unknown? We'd be dead inside of a week."

The man sighed as well, stooping to settle the stool and sit. "Way I see it, ye'd do worse by stayin' here." With a gesture to his nephew, he continued, "Ye want to see Teca become a farmer? Or a warrior?"

"A warrior!" the boy exclaimed. "Like inanup!"

Stewart chuckled. "What's it goin' to be, Kath? Ye can't have it both ways for much longer."

What's it going to be? she wondered, a glimmer of hope sparking deep in her soul. "She threw me away, Stew. That's the way they divorce," Kathleen argued.

"Aye, so ye've said. Way I see it, though, it was a misunderstandin'."

The blonde made a dismissive noise in her throat and looked away, her eyes lighting on the spotted mare. "It's not that easy, Stew. It took us two months of travel to get here and I don't even know where she is!"

"But, they get together each year for their summer camp, don't they?" the man prodded. At her nod, he shrugged. "If'n we hooked up with any Lakota between here and there, they'd show us the way, wouldn't they?"

"Well, yes, but...." His words finally reached her and Kathleen's face became cautious. "What was that again?"

A smug grin was on the young man's lips. "I said, if we found any Lakota they'd lead us to where summer camp was."

"You said, 'we'," Kathleen clarified.

"Aye. That's what I said."

Chapter 12

Wana Yagli
(wah-nah yah-galee)

Coming Home

1783

Holding her breath, Wi Ile Anpo released the bowstring. With a sharp whisper, the arrow flew through the still air and hit its intended target. The antelope had time for only a few surprised steps before it collapsed to the ground. Bow strung across her back, the warrior jogged towards her prey, pulling her hunting knife.

The animal lay on its side, breathing labored and liquid brown eyes wide with fear and confusion. Anpo approached from its back, mindful of the antlers, and knelt near the head. With a solid, quick motion of the knife, she slit the buck's throat.

As blood gushed onto the ground, she murmured, "Thank you, nigesanla, for your sacrifice. My family will feed well and long on your flesh. Your bones and sinew will be used as tools to keep us strong. You will always be with us in our hearts."

Within a few minutes, the antelope was gutted, the entrails that were not useful scattered further away - an offering to the other animals that lived in the area. It was a bit of a struggle, but Anpo got the carcass onto her pony, lashing it down behind the saddle. She hopped atop the red stallion and slowly began the return trip home.

It was good being alone out in the hills near summer camp. Since Kathleen, the warrior had found it harder and harder to be around people. She rarely spoke, even to her own family, preferring to watch from a distance. Because it is more difficult to hide this evil cloud that hangs over you, Anpo thought to herself.

Shaking her head, she steered her thoughts to her well-worn daydreams. Ketlin.... Have you joined with another? Have you given him sons? And Teca.... How do you fare in the white man's world?

With only half a mind on her destination, she allowed the pony to take her where he may.

Kathleen led the spotted mare along the creek. Ahead of her rode Stewart and Teca, the boy proud to be on the back of his own pony. Around her were others headed for summer camp, winyan and wicasa, some familiar, some not.

It had been the most outrageous of fortune. After two solid months of travel, working their way across the plains, finding other natives and speaking with each in turn, the trio had found the camp of Wicasa Waziya Mani. There had been quite a tense moment upon their arrival, the chief having heard a version of what had happened between Kathleen and her warrior. But, Mani felt obligated to the blonde for her help with the white traders and allowed them to join.

Stewart had been accepted as the woman's misun and, while he wasn't shunned, he had become the butt of a few jokes among the men. The young blond took it all with good humor, telling his sister that it wasn't any worse than what she used to throw his way when they were children.

The one who was welcomed back with open arms was Teca. The first three nights, he was a guest of the chief and sat with Mani at his fire, being regaled with tales of his inanup and how proud and brave she was. Kathleen watched fondly, serving her brother and son their food.

And now they were almost there. Summer camp. Kathleen swallowed, feeling the butterflies in her stomach. Has she joined with another yet? Maybe adopted another child? Will she be happy to see Teca? Or angry at seeing me..?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the thunder of hooves as the first of the welcoming committee found them. As expected, the warriors circling caught sight of Stewart on his horse. In minutes, two koskalaka were within reach of him, staring at his clothes and coloring. Kathleen hustled forward, dropping the reins of her pony.

"Are the Lakota always this rude to a guest?" she demanded, hands on her hips and glaring up at the riders.

The pair looked down at her, recognition on their faces. One pointed at Stewart, his dark eyes narrow. "He is not my guest!"

"He's mine," came the low voice. Mani kicked his pony into the fray, his mount forcing one of them back. "Do you wish to challenge my right?"

Unsettled, the two warriors dropped their eyes and pulled away. "Hiya, Mani. I do not wish to challenge."

The other shook his head.

Nodding in satisfaction, the chief said, "Good. Now, go tell the people at camp that we are coming." He turned his steed away, resuming his path.

Reprieved, the two warriors threaded their way out of Mani's traveling camp and rode with their comrades back the way they'd come.

Stewart blew out a breath and rolled his eyes. "Thanks, sis," he murmured.

"I felt the same way the first time I came to summer camp, lad," she answered with a smile. "It can be a bit overwhelmin'." Memories of a young woman defending her assailed Kathleen's heart.

"Aye. And that's a fact," the white man answered, not seeing the pained expression on his sibling's face.

Once they'd made it to summer camp, Kathleen thanked Mani for his help and invited him to eat at Stewart's fire in the future. The chief thought about it for a few moments before nodding assent, studying the pair. They then parted ways, Mani moving his people towards their usual place and the woman leading her family to the camp of Wagmiza Wagna.

Along the way, children danced alongside, laughing and joking at the strangers' yellow hair. When Kathleen responded to their rude comments, explaining the nature of politeness to them, the youngsters were amazed she understood the language. For the remainder of the short trip they plagued the trio with questions.

It was a good distraction for the blonde because, as she neared Wagna's camp, her stomach became more upset and she could feel a headache developing at the base of her neck. I don't know which is worse.... The idea of seeing Anpo again or facing Gi and Hca!

When the familiar ti ikceyas came into view, Kathleen's heart flip-flopped in her chest and the responses to the children dried up. Questions no longer being answered, the children raced away to spread the news of Kathleen's return.

The tension in the air increased as the people of Wagna's camp noticed the new arrivals. Fortunately for Stewart, there were no warriors about, most having gone hunting or spending time at the main council fire with their friends. Kathleen was glad she wouldn't have to worry about defending him from some well-meaning wicasa protecting Anpo's honor and thinking her brother was her man.

Instead, the winyan and wikoskalaka began to gather into clumps of spectators, dark eyes watching their progress. Kathleen knew most of them, could remember picking berries with that woman, helping this one with the birth of the toddler on her hip, laughing and swimming with the third.

No one spoke to them. No one came forth in welcome. It was unsettling that the people she'd felt were friends and family for years would not approach. When Waniyetu Gi's lodge came into view, Kathleen stopped.

Stewart, riding behind his sister, pulled his horse up when she halted. Something in the line of her body warned him and he jumped down from his mount, stepping up to her.

Kathleen was pale, her blue eyes locked on the ti ikceya before her. She drew in a shaky breath, just remembering to breathe when she felt her brother's hand on her shoulder.

Following the woman's gaze, he saw one of many conical tents. The leather flap in front of the door opened and an older woman bustled out with a basket on her hip. "Who is she?" he asked in a whisper.

"Anpo's ina." My uncisi. Regaining her senses, Kathleen turned to her sibling and spoke in urgent tones. "Do not look at her, misun. Treat her as your uncisi for now. Remember what I said?"

Stewart averted his gaze and nodded, responding in Lakota, "Ohan."

Gi set her basket of corn down by the grinding stone. Something in the air tickled her senses and she realized that it was quiet - far too quiet for a pleasant day in a camp this size. With a frown, she straightened and looked around.

Other people in the camp were clustered here and there, whispering among themselves and watching her. And something else. Turning, she looked to where the others were. Three ponies were before her lodge, a man and woman leading two of them and a child on the third. But something was odd about the pair. The older woman took a step forward, her eyes squinting as she focused her failing eyesight.

"Ketlin...?"

Hearing her name spoken with the Lakota accent brought a warmth that washed over her. "Ohan. It is me."

Gi wavered in her shock, her mouth dropping open. Steeling herself, the old woman drew herself upright and inhaled deeply. "Why are you here, Ketlin?"

Several reasons flew through the blonde's mind - worry for Anpo, the vision that threatened her every sleeping night, the hollowness in her chest for these people and this life, the almost tangible memory of strong arms wrapped around her in sleep. And Kathleen discarded them all. "I have brought your hankasi. He needs to know his family."

Gi blinked. Her eyes were drawn to the small figure on horseback and her face softened into a smile. Approaching them, she took Kathleen by the shoulders and peered into dark blue eyes. "Are you home?"

It was getting harder and harder to keep from crying. The blonde dropped her gaze and nodded, fighting with the lump in her throat. She felt Gi pull her into an embrace and a piece of her heart returned to life. To do her credit, Kathleen didn't fall apart with tears, but she couldn't help but allow a few to leak out.

"This wicasa brought you here?"

Sniffling and nodding, the younger woman pulled back. "Ohan, Gi. He is my misun, Stewart."

The old woman had noticed that this stranger would not look at her and she nodded in satisfaction. "You have taught him well, Ketlin. Tell Stu'et that I welcome him to my ti ikceya."

Kathleen nodded and smiled, relaying the already heard message with a murmur. She also repeated her brother's thanks, wondering if all this would be necessary in the future. Anpo might not have me back. Then Stew and Gi won't be related.... The blonde quickly stifled the negative thoughts and returned her attention to Anpo's ina.

Gi had moved to the grey pony, peering up at the child perched on its back. Her wrinkled face broke into a wide smile as she recognized her hankasi, seeing his mother's features in the dark face. "You are Teca," she said.

"You are my unci...?" the boy responded, his statement also a vague question.

"Ohan, I am."

Lips pursed in concentrated thought, Teca studied the old woman. Finally, he smiled. "You gave me berries when I was little."

"Ohan, Teca! You have always had a liking for sweet things!"

Satisfied, the boy held out his arms and slid into his grandmother's. After a long hug, he was settled to the ground and studied. "You have grown big and strong, hankasi. Soon you will be a great warrior and hunter."

"Just like inanup," Teca insisted with a nod and a smile. A thought evidently crossed his mind because his face became serious and he tilted his head. "You are inanup's ina?"

"Ohan, and she will be very happy to see you!" Gi brought her attention back to Kathleen and her brother. "Come to my lodge and accept food and drink. Anpo has gone hunting and will return soon."

Anpo's pony meandered through the camp on course for her cuwe's lodge. Since she had no woman of her own, she tended to split her hunting prizes between Hca Wanahca and her ina. So deep in her daydreams and apathy, the curious looks and whispers of others failed to grab her attention.

At Hca's ti iceya, the fire burned merrily. It didn't appear that she was there, however. Anpo dismounted and untied the antelope carcass. She settled it downwind of the fire so the smoke would deter the worst of the flies and used a stick to knock on the tiopa.

She may be at ina's, Anpo thought when there was no answer. With a shrug, she dropped the stick and returned to her horse. Taking the reins, the warrior led the animal towards her own lodge. Once there, she pulled the saddle and reins off the red stallion and sent him towards the herd with a smack on his flank.

Turning back to her fire, she saw that it had burned down to coals. Rather than restart it, Anpo settled down in her place and prepared a pipe. She smoked as she stared at the dead and dying embers, her thoughts in a place just as dead, just as smoky.

A burst of laughter perked her ears and she glanced towards her mother's ti ikceya. She couldn't quite see the fire from this angle, but she could tell that there were several people about it. Another camp must have arrived. Maybe ina's maske...? Anpo puffed as she watched, her heart leaden and just a little wistful at the gaiety she could hear.

A child emerged from the group, peering in her direction. He looked vaguely familiar to Anpo, but she couldn't place his face. Most children were familiar at summer camp, though, seen every year as they grew to adulthood. The warrior watched as his face broke into a smile and he trotted closer.

With a concerted effort, she put a mild look on her face, hiding her melancholy behind a pleasant exterior. The boy stopped just outside the circle, his eyes roaming up and down the seated warrior before him. There was a long silence before Anpo tilted her head and said, "Han, young koskalaka. Come sit by me."

The child grinned and leapt forward to do just that. He settled down to the left of her, in the honored place. "You are Anpo?" he asked. "Cunksi of Gi and Wanbli?"

The warrior smoked her pipe. "Ohan, I am. And you are?"

He puffed his chest out in pride, thumping it once with a small fist. "I am Teca! Cinksi of Ketlin and Anpo!"

There was silence, the pipe forgotten as the warrior could only stare down at him.

"You are my inanup!" Teca crowed. "I have missed you very much, inanup!" And he wrapped his small arms about her waist in a hug.

At that exact moment, a familiar voice could be heard calling from Gi's lodge. "Teca...?"

Before Anpo could respond, the boy called, "Hau, ina! I am with inanup!"

As Kathleen appeared, stepping from the front of Gi's ti ikceya, Anpo's breath caught in her throat. Mahasanni ki! Hungry eyes took in the blonde's form, recognizing the yellow cuwignaka, noting the new beadwork that had been added along its length. The hair was longer and the braids were still hanging down across her chest, indicating her status being that of a joined woman. She has joined with another...? The warrior's heart twisted in her chest.

She looks so sad, Kathleen thought, scanning the woman before her. The shirt was new with blue and red quills decorating the chest and fringes hanging from the sides. In her hair two upright feathers had joined the yellow one and three quills hung down. The dark hair was loose about Anpo's shoulders and the blonde fought an irrational urge to rush forward and run her fingers through it.

Anpo wasn't sure how it happened, but she found herself standing, Teca wrapped firmly about her muscled thigh and her hand in his hair. The pipe was left on the ground, its smoke drifting off to the spirit world. Struggling with her emotions, she finally croaked, "Han, Ketlin."

Kathleen inhaled deeply to gain some emotional control. Hearing her name roll off the warrior's lips cracked the hollow in her chest, allowing the ache to rise closer to the surface. "Han, Anpo," she responded softly. Looking to their son, she smiled. "I see that Teca has wasted no time in finding you."

"I have missed inanup, ina," the boy said, hugging the leg tighter. "She will teach me to be a great warrior!"

"Ohan. She will." Dark blue eyes looked back to the warrior. "But, inanup and I must speak alone, cinksi. I want you to go back to unci's lodge."

Teca frowned and shook his head, holding the warrior's thigh tighter still, nearly cutting off the circulation. "Hiya! I want to stay here!"

Despite herself, Anpo smiled at his adamancy. She gently disengaged the boy and knelt to peer into his eyes. It is Teca! How I have missed him! she thought as she grasped his small shoulders. "Obey your ina, cinksi. I will come for you when we are done speaking."

The crack in Kathleen's heart opened further as she heard the warrior call Teca her son.

"Can we go riding again? I can ride my pony now! You and I can go very fast!" the boy rattled off.

Anpo's smile widened. "Ohan, Teca. You go to ina's lodge now and I will take you riding when I am finished."

With some reluctance, the boy nodded, eyeing his parents. Slowly, he shuffled away, shoulders drooping and looking over his shoulder at them until he arrived back at the ti ikceya. There, he was immediately picked up by Hca and distracted with his young cousin.

Kathleen turned back to the warrior and they stood there in awkward silence for several moments. "May I sit down?" the blonde finally asked.

Her nod almost frantic, Anpo said, "Ohan! Sit!"

A small smile quirked the white woman's mouth as she stepped into the circle of Anpo's fire and sat. She did not sit in the honored place to the left of the warrior, nor did she settle down to the immediate right where Anpo's woman would. Kathleen stayed directly across from the dark woman. Her eyes flickered into the smoldering embers. "Your fire is going dead."

Anpo, who had returned to her own seat, hardly spared the fire a glance. "Ohan, I know." Her eyes continued to feed on the woman before her.

Kathleen blushed a little at the intensity of the dark gaze. Get to it, lass! Ask what ye've come to ask! Looking away from the warrior, she picked at her dress. "Stewart said you left me a message when you went away," the blonde said. "What was it?"

For a second time, Anpo felt her heart clutch her chest and her breath freeze. Her mouth worked but no sound came out. She dropped her eyes, staring forlornly into her hands.

"Anpo," Kathleen said in a soft, calming tone. "I need to hear it from your own lips."

"I.... I throw you away," the warrior croaked out.

The blonde closed her eyes in pain and nodded, taking a deep breath to still her nerves. "I see."

Movement caught Anpo's eye and she looked up to find the blonde pulling her braids to her back. She is not joined with another...? Ketlin thought we were still joined....? Why? "Did your misun not tell you my message?"

Sighing, Kathleen nodded. "Ohan, he did. But I could not believe that my winuhcala, my mahasanni ki would leave me without speaking to me."

It was Anpo's turn to wince in pain and look away. "You left me to sleep with the animals. You would not come to me. I was alone."

"I know," the blonde said softly, leaning forward to stare with earnest into Anpo's eyes. "And it was the biggest mistake I have ever made. I was confused, unable to explain to my family what you meant to me."

"Why, Ketlin? Why was it so hard to tell them we were joined?" Anpo's face showed all the lost bewilderment of a child. "I do not understand."

Kathleen so wanted to rush to her warrior's side and hold her. No, lass. She's not your warrior any longer.... "It is a sin against my God to be a woman intimate with women, Anpo. I know that we did nothing besides kiss, but even that damns me to Hell. My parents would never have understood."

There was a long silence as the warrior processed this. "If you stay with the Lakota, will you still go to your Hell?" she finally asked.

"I do not know."

Another pause as the pair lost themselves in their thoughts. Finally, Anpo nodded a chin at the blonde. "You are not joined with another?"

"Hiya, I am not, Anpo."

"Why? You are a good winyan. You cook well and are loving to your family. You have taken good care of me." And I miss you so - your touches, your kisses, your laughter.

"Wasn't from lack of tryin' on my mum's part," Kathleen muttered in English with a crooked smile. "I belong to only one. That will never change."

Moisture welled up in Anpo's eyes. "Even if you are to go to your God's Hell?" she asked.

"Even then." I will go to the ends of the earth for you, mahasanni ki.

Blinded by the tears that filled her dark eyes, the warrior shook with sobs. She wrapped long arms about herself, hugging with all her might.

She might not be my warrior, but I can't just sit here.... Kathleen's own eyes leaked and she moved to Anpo's side, gathering the larger woman into her arms. The Lakota curled up and leaned into her, shaking with the force of her tears. Rocking gently back and forth, the blonde crooned a song that she'd been taught by Gi long ago.

The familiar song, the familiar arms only served to intensify the feelings of loss. Anpo was overcome with the weeping, unable to stop as she poured out the last two years of pain and anguish. They sat this way for quite some time. Eventually, Anpo's tears faded and she lay in the blonde's arms, staring dazedly at the reddish coals of the firepit. Kathleen continued to sing softly, brushing her fingers through the dark hair.

Anpo felt numb now that the fierce emotions had flown through her. "I have missed you, mahasanni ki," she whispered, sighing at the fingertips that grazed her temple.

"I have missed you, mahasanni ki," Kathleen answered.

"Will you join with me again?"

I'd love to, lass! Kathleen inhaled deeply. "I am no longer a slave, Anpo. And you are living in my ti ikceya. I have a place in this camp." She peered down at the woman she loved. "Whether I join with you or not remains to be seen."

Sitting up, Anpo peered at the blonde woman. She wants me to court her...? Another thought came to mind. "How did you get here, Ketlin? Did you travel by yourself?"

"Hiya. My misun, Stewart, brought me. He knows of my joining with you and I have taught him many Lakota words and things."

Hope blossomed in the warrior's heart and she wiped her face clean, her mind whirling a mile a minute. With a curt nod, she rose to her feet. "This is Stu'et's fire and your lodge. I will stay with ina."

Kathleen's mouth dropped open as the dark woman ducked into the ti ikceya. That's not what I meant! She rose to her feet and almost collided with Anpo as she barreled back out of the lodge. "I did not mean for you to leave this lodge, Anpo...."

"Ohan, Ketlin." The warrior juggled her personal possessions. "It is better this way." Her handsome face creased into a grin. "I will take Teca riding now." And she marched off towards the people at her mother's ti ikceya.

Leaving the blonde to stare at her, breathless with confusion. Looking about her, seeing the scattered people loitering around their lodges in silent support, Kathleen mumbled, "What just happened....?"

In Wagna's camp, the night rang with music. The people celebrated the return of Kathleen and Teca and welcomed Stewart into their lives with gusto. Roasting meat filled the air, the antelope Anpo had brought in feeding many hungry mouths.

But not all were happy.

Nupa had left the firelight, standing just on the edge of it as he watched. The white man was dragged into the circle to dance, laughing and awkward. The people laughed uproariously at his antics as he tried to copy the steps of the other dancers. He eventually began kicking his feet up in an Irish reel as the warriors howled their approval.

The warrior's eyes moved to his tanksi, watching as she laughed at Stewart and joked with her ate beside her. On her other side was Teca who hadn't disconnected himself from her since they'd been riding that afternoon. She looks so much happier now. She is a whole person. With a frown and a sigh, Nupa looked at the cause of this major change.

Kathleen was seated behind her son, watching her misun play with the Lakota. Her long braids were behind her, indicating she was unmarried. Her face was happy and her smile brilliant as she responded to something Anpo said about the white man.

Why? And will you hurt my tanksi again? Nupa's head whirled with questions. While he was undeniably relieved to see his friend actually participating with her people again, he couldn't help but worry that Kathleen was still ashamed of Anpo and be the cause of more pain.

Dark blue eyes met Nupa's and he watched as her smile faded, replaced by concern. She rose to her feet and murmured something to Teca, who was too enamored of his inanup to pay any mind, and wandered towards the warrior on the edge of the fire. Upon reaching Nupa, she stepped to his side and turned around to watch the camp in silence.

The warrior finally spoke. "Two winters ago, a woman arrived at our camp, frozen and starving, dressed in rags. She would not speak to us, would not sign. It was as if she were dead and could only see the spirit world." He glanced sideways at the woman beside him. "It took over a moon before Anpo spoke."

Kathleen dropped her head. "I did not know."

"She told us of a stranger who was ashamed of her, that she was not welcome in her uncisi's lodge."

The woman's head shot back up, dark blue eyes on fire. "I was never ashamed of Anpo! She is the best thing that ever happened to me!" she insisted. Looking back to the warrior in question, Kathleen's shoulders slumped a bit. "I was ashamed of me, tiblo. In the white world, it is different. My parents would not have understood our joining. I did not know how to tell them."

"And have you told them now?"

"Ohan." Her eyes fell to study the ground at her feet. "They were not happy." Aye, and that's an understatement, lass! she thought, remembering the day she and Stewart had left the homestead. Pushing it from her mind, she shook her head and raised it, chin jutted out in defiance. "I made a mistake that night long ago, Nupa. And so did Anpo by leaving as she did. We have paid the price for our misunderstanding. It is time to move on."

Nupa nodded in grudging respect. She has grown stronger. "I do not want to see another 'misunderstanding,' Ketlin. It will destroy Anpo."

"I know. I cannot say that we will never have a misunderstanding, tiblo. But, I promise you that I will never allow it to go so long again. I should have followed her immediately, tried to track her down and explain what happened." A lump developed in her throat. "That was my second mistake."

Mollified, his worries put to rest a bit, the warrior sighed and placed an arm about Kathleen's shoulders. "Do not worry the past, tanksi, it will make you crazy. Keep your eye on now and the future."

The pair stood together and watched the celebration continue.

She approached the figure huddled on the hillside, pulling her shawl closer with aching fingers. It was inadequate protection against the icy tendrils of wind that whipped about her, freezing her very soul as it howled. Coldness also gripped her heart as she neared the familiar figure. The warrior's back was to her, a thin robe ruffling loosely as the wind teased its edges.

"Mahasanni ki?" she breathed.

There was no answer. With hesitant hand, she reached out to touch the warrior's shoulder, to urge her awake, to make some sort of contact.

The warrior was ice.

Unable to pull away, to flee what she knew she would find, she shook the warrior. With absurd slowness, the warrior toppled backwards into the snow. The naturally dark skin was pale and gray, the eyes open and unseeing with a thin layer of frost covering the lenses.

Feeling as if she'd been punched in the stomach, she stumbled back a step, gasping for air. Her lungs ached from the winter cold and she whirled around to run away.

Below her was a small hollow full of Lakota lodges, many of them familiar. There were no warm fires, no sign of movement, not even the whiffle of ponies. Frozen bodies lay everywhere in the camp.

Kathleen sat up, shivering. I thought it would go away! she cried in her thoughts. She huddled about herself, holding her knees to her chest as she calmed herself.

Around her were the soft sounds of others sleeping. A light snore emitted from a wool blanket that had a tuft of yellow hair sticking out of it. Nearby, Teca had thrown off his own blanket, hugging his doll to his chest.

She disentangled herself and pulled her son's blanket up over his shoulder, brushing hair from his face. After watching Teca sleep for several minutes, she sighed and dressed, stepping outside into the cool summer morning.

As usual, the sun had not risen though the skies were grey with impending dawn. Kathleen set herself to work getting the fire back up and preparing for breakfast. As she worked, her mind worried the problem of the nightmare.

Obviously, the dream had not been of the past as she'd been so frightened of. Having started just after the worst of last year's winter storms passed her family's homestead, that had been Kathleen's greatest concern - that it was what had happened and she would find everyone dead. Anpo dead. She shuddered and veered away from the thought.

Does that mean it's a dream about the future? And if it is, can it be avoided? Or does it have to remain as it is and everyone dies? The blonde mixed a porridge out of grains and set it to cooking over the fire, unconsciously shaking her head at her thoughts. I can't b'lieve I've come here to watch it happen! Doesn't that mean that Teca and I die, too?

The sun peeked over the horizon, bathing her in warm, reddish light. Despite her worries, she lifted her face and basked in it, pausing in her chores for just a moment. A noise grabbed her attention and she opened her eyes, finding she was not alone in enjoying the dawn.

The shaman, Inyan Ceye, had grown old, his steps shuffling and his dark hair grey. He stood in front of his woman's ti ikceya, arms wide as he welcomed the sun with a prayer and a song. Dancing a bit, he shook a rattle in the four directions before sitting down with obvious pain in front of his fire.

Perhaps this nightmare is a vision...? Kathleen considered, her eyes widening at the thought. "I must talk to Inyan about visions."

As Wanbli Zi and Anpo left camp, the young warrior watched with curiosity as she passed the shaman's fire. There sat Kathleen in serious discussion with the old man, a curious thing. Brow furrowed in concern, she continued her course as she followed her ate. Why would Ketlin need to see Inyan? she wondered. She has never met with him before.... Anpo shook her head and forced the thoughts from her mind. It is not my place. Ketlin will tell me if she wishes.

When they were a ways out from camp, the two warriors urged their ponies into a gallop which then turned into a race. With wild abandon, they whooped and chased each other about until their mounts became winded. Wanbli steered them towards a nearby creek and they let the horses drink their fill.

Seated on the back of the red stallion, Anpo's eyes wandered about the area. She could see the smoke from summer camp to her right, could smell and hear the water as it gurgled beneath her horse's hooves.

"What will you do now that Ketlin has returned, cunksi?" Wanbli asked.

Anpo inhaled deeply of the fresh air, a smile on her face. "I will court her, ate, as she should be courted." Turning to the old warrior, she continued, "I ask that you speak for me with her misun."

Her father nodded solemnly. "Do you think this is wise?"

Face becoming serious, the young warrior searched her ate's dark eyes, finding only concern for her there. "Ohan, ate," she said softly. "Ketlin is my mahasanni ki. I cannot be without her."

"You have been without her for two winters, Anpo. It has been hard, but you have worked through the pain." Wanbli sighed. "I would not have you return to that dark place and I fear that Ketlin will hurt you again."

Anpo nodded grudgingly. "Ohan, there will always be that possibility, ate. But, I was not alive, I had not worked through the pain." She shook her head and looked away to the distance. "I only waited for the time of my death, hoping it would come soon to end my misery."

"And that has changed, Anpo?"

"Ohan!" The young warrior's smile returned. "What happened between us was our mistake, each of us responsible for a piece of it. Ketlin and I will work hard to not let that happen again."

It was Wanbli Zi's turn to nod. "I will speak to Stu'et for you."

"Thank you, ate!" his daughter responded with delight.

Their horses continued to drink deeply and they sat in silence for a few more moments.

"Ate?"

"Ohan, Anpo?" Wanbli turned to his cunksi and saw the familiar frown of thought on her face.

"How do you pleasure a winyan?"

The old warrior blinked. "You do not know?" he asked in vague surprise.

Anpo shook her head. "Among Ketlin's people, it is not spoken of. She would not tell me what was good and what was not. It shamed her to speak of it and I would not cause her pain." She shrugged her shoulders with a sigh. "I do not have a ce, ate. I cannot do what other wicasa do."

Thoughtful, Wanbli studied the back of his horse's ears. Beside him, his youngest child kept silent as she waited for his wisdom. "Have you ever pleasured yourself, Anpo?"

"Ohan, ate."

He nodded and warmed to his topic. "Then you know some of what winyan like."

They spoke for quite some time.

It had taken a very short while for Kathleen to fall back into the pattern of Lakota life. Despite the many similarities between the two cultures when it came to women's work, the blonde found the native lifestyle less stressful. Maybe it's the many other hands to help, she mused, thinking of how the women all worked together towards a common goal. Far different than homesteadin', lass. There ye be, all alone except yer immediate family.

She'd taken even less time to reacquaint herself with her ti ikceya and its household items. It was a sign of how well Anpo had been taken care of, the warrior's ina and cuwe keeping the usual tools of a woman's trade in good condition, dry food stored, cooking herbs available, old and worn items replaced.

Kathleen was going through some baskets on the right side of the lodge, seated in her place near the central firepit. With some surprise, she'd even uncovered one that had held pieces of leather and feathers for a project she'd been working on before leaving to visit her parents. She fingered the quills of a crow, trying to recall what she'd planned for it.

Outside, Stewart sat at the firepit, trying to get used to the loincloth he had been put into by Anpo and Wanbli. The hair on his pale legs tickled from the breeze and he was constantly rubbing his shins to relieve the itch. There'd been a while where he couldn't quite get comfortable, not wanting to show off his wares to the passing young women who giggled and pointed at him. He paused in the sharpening of his knife to twitch the leather and readjust his seat. It's positively indecent! he griped. Mum'd have a conniption if she saw me now! In contrast to his sun deprived legs, his chest and arms were tan from many years of farm work in hot fields. His longish hair had been pulled back into a tail and tied with rawhide.

Apparently the Lakota were gearing up for a major celebration, the Sun Dance. The summer camp was vast with hundreds of lodges throughout and a central cleared area that was almost as large as the east field at home. Within the next couple of days, the shamans were to be finished with their vision quests and the celebration would begin. Stewart was looking forward to it, despite the horrid descriptions his sister had told him. Should be interesting to see how they worship their gods.

A shadow fell across him as he worked the sharpening stone. Looking up at the silhouette, he peered at the dark figure until he could make out the features. "Anpo!" he said with delight, setting the blade down. "Han! Sit at my fire!"

The warrior would not answer, shaking her head no.

Puzzled, Stewart put his hand over his eyes to see better. His eyes widened.

Anpo was dressed head to toe in her leathers and leggings, despite the heat of summer. Her hair was loose about her shoulders and two lightning bolts of red and yellow were on her cheeks. To top it off, she wore a large white robe.

The white man blinked. Movement caught his eye and he looked around to see others of the camp gathering to watch. Still confused, Stewart turned to the warrior who had moved away and was now stomping back and forth. "Uh.... Kath....? I think you'd better get out here," the young man called.

Hearing her name, Kathleen set the basket she was looking through to one side. At the tiopa, she lifted the leather cover aside, mouth open to ask what her brother wanted. Her mouth remained open as she stared in shock at Anpo, pacing back and forth as if angered. Oh, my God.... Is this what I think it is...?

"Kath...?"

The blonde tore her gaze from the warrior and looked at Stewart. She almost laughed at the look of bewilderment and worry on his face. Biting her lip, Kathleen smothered her mirth. "Do not worry, Stew," she murmured as she stepped from the ti ikceya. "Ease your heart and remain still. Everything is fine."

With a reluctant nod, Stewart agreed. He kept a wary eye on the agitated native, however, glad that his nephew was off visiting Hca.

Kathleen saw others of Wagna's camp as they appeared out of nowhere in support of the warrior before her. She reddened at the attention but stood tall, her head held up as the courtship dance continued.

Anpo's dark eyes glittered in happiness though her face was stoic. She paced back and forth in mock anger, 'hunting' her prey as she moved closer and closer to the winyan standing before her lodge. The warrior could feel the strength from her people as they stood witness and it filled her heart with pride.

With a sudden move, the dark woman was on her prey, long arms wrapping about the smaller form. Kathleen put up a struggle, trying to free herself despite the overwhelming urge to melt into Anpo's grasp.

The speed of the attack startled Stewart and he jumped to his feet, the knife held in a white knuckled fist.

"Stu'et, hiya," came a voice to his left.

Shaken, the young man turned to find Hca smiling at him. She held Teca by the hand, her own son on her hip, and they were smiling at him. "But.... But, Anpo's...." he stuttered as he gestured to his right with the knife.

"It is what our wicasa do when they choose a winyan, a winuhca." Hca released Teca and held out her hand. "All will be well, Stu'et. Anpo will not harm Ketlin."

Stewart swallowed and turned back to the couple. He chewed his lip, flustered, as he saw his sister wrapped in a calm embrace with her warrior. The man frowned and scratched at his neck, mind awhirl as the white buffalo robe engulfed them both.

"Do not look at them now, Stu'et," Hca instructed. "This is a moment of privacy for them. Sit. I will get you and Teca something to eat."

The white man looked away and blew out a breath. "I'll never understand all these customs," he muttered in English. He sat beside his nephew who was peeking around Stewart at his parents with a wide smile. "Least she coulda done was warn me!"

Kathleen closed her eyes, a wave of emotion rolling over her. She felt relaxed, satisfied, hopeful and nostalgic all at once. She inhaled deeply of Anpo's scent, laying her head against the strong chest. The familiar arms wrapped about her and, though she began to perspire from being covered in a heavy robe, the blonde didn't want to be anywhere else. Beneath her ear, she heard the thump of Anpo's heart and the rumble of her low voice as she began to speak. That's right! She's to tell me an old tale!

When the blonde had stopped her struggles and relaxed into the embrace, Anpo let out a soft sigh. She cuddled the smaller woman closer and wrapped them both with the robe of tatanka ska, their legacy.

Up to this point, Anpo'd had no idea what she was to say to Kathleen. Her ate had told her she would simply know when the time came. The young warrior had accepted that. Leaning her cheek against the yellow hair, Anpo began to speak.

"Many winters ago, a warrior's winuhca bore his third child. Despite his desire for a cinksi to teach and take care of him in his old age, a girl was born. But the shaman had a vision when he held the newborn. He heard the scream of the igmu in all her mystery as the child cried out for life. It was decided that the cunksi would be raised as a hoksila, taught by the warrior to hunt and fight though they were not the traditional ways of a woman.

"The child grew strong over the winters. She learned the ways of wicasa, developing great skill in all areas of men's work. When she was about eleven winters old, she had to begin wearing a shirt because her body was growing into a wikoskalaka. As she reached twelve winters, the bleeding time began for her and she was taught the ways of women in this matter. It was a confusing time, her lifelong teachings at war with her body's changes.

"As is usual for the wicincala of the Lakota, the cunksi took her first bleeding and found a tree. There, she climbed as high as she could and placed the bundle into the branches. Then, she sat at the base of the tree and asked the spirits for a vision. All day she sat there, looking down at summer camp, feeling confused and lonely. No vision came to her."

Kathleen's heart reached out at the sense of hopelessness that shimmered off the warrior holding her. She hugged Anpo closer, eyes closed as she envisioned the solitary figure under a tree.

"The wicincala, her vision denied, thought that she had gone about things the wrong way. She might be wikoskalaka, but she was raised as koskalaka. The only way to get a vision was to do what her ate and his ate had done. With some fear, she braved the fire of the shaman and asked to be guided in this manner. After some thought and questioning, the wise wicasa agreed to teach her the way of the vision quest.

"Happy, she went to the oinikaga tipi after much preparation and cleansed her body and spirit for the vision quest. Then, dressed in a loincloth, moccasins and a robe, she left the summer camp in search of a likely place. Several hours of travel passed before she found a hill that felt right and the wicincala began more preparations. She cleared an area of all living things and entered it, placing the spirit banners given her by the shaman at each corner. She began a small fire and burnt sweet smelling herbs to entice the spirits. She smoked a pipe in honor of the spirits, offering it to the four directions as she waited for her vision."

The blonde could almost feel the confidence rolling off Anpo, knowing deep down inside that the warrior had had no doubt she'd be granted a vision by the spirits. The story intrigued her. Kathleen had known for years that there had been a pretty serious vision in Anpo's past, but she'd never been told what it was, always assuming it was a personal, private thing and not to be shared. That the warrior was telling her now was a great gift, and the blonde's heart thumped in happiness that it was being given to her.

"For three days the sun rose and set as the wicincala prayed to the spirits, asking for a vision. Three days of no food or water, little sleep, all alone. It was a difficult time. The wicincala knew if she did not have a vision soon, she would have to return to camp without one or die there on the hill. She was facing east as the sun rose when it happened.

"The Sun seemed to flare into a brilliant white light. She had to squint to peer at it, one hand raised to shade her eyes. As the light faded, she could see a cloud of dust rising and feel the ground beneath her shake at the stampeding of a thousand buffalo. They were running towards her, led by the most sacred animal of all, tatanka ska.

"Watching in dazed awe, she saw a warrior woman swoop in from the south, screaming her cry as she attacked the white buffalo with a spear. The warrior's hit was solid and tatanka ska was mortally wounded. It seemed that the remainder of the herd simply disappeared, as did the warrior woman. The white buffalo staggered closer to the wicincala, blood pouring from its side and its nostrils flaring wide as it panted for breath. It fell just outside the cleared area and looked so real that she could almost touch it. The Sun flared again, and she lost the image, covering her eyes with her arm. The light faded and she looked again, only to find tatanka ska gone."

Anpo paused in her narration, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. The woman in her arms was tense with curiosity, having shifted her stance to peer up at the warrior with intent dark blue eyes.

"Someone was in tatanka ska's place, a strange woman with pale skin. Her hair was long, longer than the wicincala'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 cuwignaka and moccasins, her hair flowing freely in the breeze."

Kathleen's mouth had dropped open in shock. She saw me in her vision...!? When she was... only twelve!!? Her mind kicked into gear. I was only fourteen! We'd just settled into the cabin on the river! Hearing Anpo's voice continue, she forced herself to pay attention, thoughts whirling about in her head.

"This strange apparition rose from where tatanka ska had been, blood pouring from her side where he had been wounded. She walked closer to the wicincala 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 the wicincala's face, two thunderbolts beneath her eyes. As the Sun flared again, the wicincala could see those brilliant blue eyes staring at her and hear the words whispered into her ear."

Anpo dropped her head, bringing her lips closer to the blonde's ear. She whispered the words from her vision. "Mahasanni ki."

Kathleen nearly swooned at the words, her arms tightening about the warrior's waist. "Oh, Anpo," she whispered, full of disbelief, desire and wistfulness. The arms holding her shifted and she felt a finger on her lips. The blonde looked up into a smiling face.

"The wicincala returned to camp, singing a song of her vision to all that would hear. She was happy the spirits had gifted her but unsure of its meaning. When she came upon the shaman, she sat and smoked with him, telling him what had happened. With his help, she was able to understand some of the vision - that tatanka ska was to point the way to this strange woman, that she would meet this woman in the future, that she would be loved by this woman very much." Anpo closed her eyes in pain. "That she would hurt this woman though she would be loved despite the pain she caused."

"I love you, Anpo, with all my heart."

The warrior pulled on a blonde braid with affection and continued her tale. "The shaman changed her name to reflect the vision that day. She was no longer known as Cinksi. Her name forever after became Wi Ile Anpo, the sun burning at dawn. And she continued on as a wikoskalaka in her camp, doing what the koskalaka did.

"Four winters passed. The vision would return to her in her dreams, sometimes when she was awake. The shaman told her that this strange woman was very powerful to be so strong for so long. Many do not remember their visions with such clarity as time passes, but hers remained strong and real. It was decided that maybe this strange woman was a spirit that would be revealed to the wikoskalaka when the time was right.

"And then I saw you," the warrior said, changing the point of view of her tale. She brushed her knuckles against the soft skin of Kathleen's face. "And you were real, not a spirit. I knew I had to have you, that you were mine forever. When I killed tatanka ska and Hehake challenged me, I wagered a pony against you. He did not know of the vision and I felt if it was meant to be as it was shown me, it was the only thing to do.

"I had spent many winters worrying about hurting the strange woman of my vision. I then spent more winters worrying about hurting you, Ketlin, my mahasanni ki. My vision never left me - it stayed with me when I was asleep or awake, haunting me with its puzzle. When we left to see the white traders, it changed. Teca would appear beside you and the two of you would walk away into the light without me." Anpo could feel the lump in her throat and she swallowed around it. "I did not know what to do. My ate and Inyan were far away. I could not talk to them...."

The blonde reached up a hand to caress her warrior's cheek. "Shhh, Anpo. I understand. Let me finish your story." When she received a hesitant nod, Kathleen smiled, staring into dark eyes. "Teca almost died and I became hysterical, demanding to have my family see him. You gave up your people and support to bring me to my parents' lodge so that your cinksi could meet his family. I was confused, unable to speak to my family about us, about our joining. I let my ate and ina make my decision for me, allowed them to put you in the barn for the night, followed their command to sleep in the lodge. I left you alone with your vision and your fears."

Anpo nodded silently, tears beginning to well up in eyes that watched intently.

"So your vision became true - Teca and I left you. You hurt me, though I loved you afterwards." There was another nod and Kathleen gazed up at her warrior. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But we are here now. And I am healing." She pulled Anpo's head down, closing her eyes with a sigh as their lips met for the first time in over two years.

An immediate fire erupted in Anpo's belly and she explored the familiar territory with her tongue, holding the blonde close. She could feel the rapid heartbeat of her woman beneath her skin, the staccato matching her own heart as it thumped wildly. Hands twined in her hair and the two were alone in their love.

Over the next several days, Stewart received an in depth education in Lakota ceremonies and mating rituals. There were four days of preparation for the Sun Dance with plenty of singing, chanting and dancing. They were followed by three more days of the same, though these were located inside the giant ti ikceya erected in the center of camp. The white man wasn't sure which was worse - the men disfiguring themselves or Anpo holding Teca so the boy could get a clear view of the proceedings.

This was the first Sun Dance that Teca could remember. When the new babies received their ear piercings, he fingered one of his lobes in vague memory. He enjoyed the games and singing, spending quite a bit of his time reacquainting himself with his inanup. His eyes wide as he watched the Dance itself, Anpo's whisper in his ear explaining what was going on. By the end of the ceremony, however, the boy was whooping and cheering with the rest of his people as they honored the warriors.

Kathleen found herself enjoying a strange level of giddiness she'd never experienced. Her time with Anpo was markedly different than before. When she'd first become Anpo's woman, it was her responsibility to take care of the warrior, to fix and serve her food, to keep her clothed in a manner that befitted her status in the camp.

Now, however, it was so different. She would wake to find small gifts of flowers, food or adornments in her place at Stewart's fire. The warrior ate most meals at the fire, getting to know the white man and entertaining all of them with stories. After Teca would be put to bed, Anpo would return and sit just outside the firelight, playing a Lakota flute and drawing the blonde out into the darkness.

A sweet grin crossed Kathleen's lips as she heard her warrior's flute. She glanced at her brother to find a matching smile on his own face.

"Go, Kath," Stewart said in a low voice. "I'll get Teca to bed tonight."

The blonde's smile widened and she scampered off, feeling very much like a child given a reprieve from an onerous chore. Following the sound of the music, she found Anpo seated on a blanket in a dark pocket between lodges. With practiced ease, Kathleen settled down, leaning into her warrior as the tune finished.

Anpo smiled at the blonde as she set the flute aside. She reached out and pulled Kathleen into her lap, holding her close and inhaling deeply of her scent. "I have missed you, mahasanni ki."

"You just saw me a short time ago at our meal, my warrior," was the chuckled response. "You had seconds and thirds, too."

"It was a long time ago!" the warrior insisted, stealing a kiss. "And I am only hungry for you."

Kathleen felt a shiver rush down her spine. Warm lips caressed her face and she closed her eyes. Her mouth opened slightly in invitation as they were brushed in turn. There was a familiar twist in her stomach as the dark woman delved inside with a tongue. The heat of summer was nothing compared to the flames that burst from within as the kisses became ravenous.

With some surprise, Kathleen broke off from the breathless intensity to find herself in a wanton position. She had been turned in Anpo's arms, her cuwignaka hiked up to her upper thighs and her legs wrapped firmly about the warrior's torso. Blushing in surprise and embarrassment, the blonde began to cringe away.

Strong hands held her close, refusing to let her go. "Hiya, Ketlin. Stay." The hands moved on her back and shoulders, massaging the suddenly tense muscles there. "I know that you have been hurt in the past by the wicasa who captured you. I know that your people do not speak of this or act in this manner." Anpo peered into dark blue eyes. "But, you must know that I will not hurt you. And I will pleasure you in our joining bed. I have let this fear rule over us too long. We must be free of it."

Kathleen could only blink and pant in response, her heart beating triple time as she tried to catch her breath. Her body was on fire and the hooded brown eyes looking deeply into her soul didn't help, serving only to fan the flames of desire. Trembling, she pulled Anpo close into an embrace, gathering strength from the long arms that surrounded her, protected her.

After a time, the low voice said, "Tomorrow, my ate and Nupa will speak with Stu'et about your price. They will negotiate with your misun and then we will have a joining ceremony."

The blonde nodded her head against the shoulder she leaned on. "I will tell Stewart." Hands continued to rub her back and Kathleen relaxed, drifting along.

Anpo smiled as she felt the weight of her woman against her, trusting the warrior to keep her safe from harm. "Mahasanni ki," she breathed.

As was foretold, Nupa and Wanbli arrived at the white man's fire a short time after the morning meal. They were followed by a trail of hoksila who were interested in the proceedings and Stewart felt almost a circus like atmosphere coming from the children. Teca responded to their excitement by hopping about the fire, unable to be still. With proper hospitality, the blond man asked the wicasa to sit at his fire, giving Wanbli the honored seat to his left.

Kathleen served the men some tea and frybread, being careful to not look at Wanbli Zi. To her surprise, Inyan Ceye appeared and awaited an invitation.

Puzzled, Stewart asked the old shaman to sit with them and gestured for his sister to bring food and tea for their new guest. When the elder settled down on his right, the white man frowned in thought.

Her own eyebrows at their zenith, Kathleen gave the shaman some frybread and tea, receiving a smile in thanks.

The men then had the traditional pipe, smoking in silence as they all reflected on why they were there. When it was finished, they looked to the elder, Inyan, to begin.

"I adopt Ketlin as my child, my cunksi. She has had a vision that is very disastrous for our people. Her return and telling of it may mean that we will survive the coming winter." Aged eyes looked about the circle of wicasa, finally settling on the woman in question. A smile crossed his face at her shock. "I have no children and I am getting old. You are young and strong, yet have no Lakota man to speak for you in this matter." He patted Stewart's bare knee with a wry grin. "You have done well, wicasa ska, but you are not Lakota," he said.

The blond man only nodded in agreement, feeling a bit relieved that the burden of these unfamiliar situations would be lifted from him.

Inyan returned his gaze to the young woman expectantly.

Kathleen swallowed, her heart soaring with fondness for the old man. Her face creased in a soft smile, she went to the shaman and hugged him. "Thank you, ate," she whispered into his ear.

The embrace was returned. "Thank you, cunksi," Inyan responded. He pulled back and peered into his daughter's face. "You must go now. This is men's work."

Nodding, the blonde paused only long enough to give her brother and son a hug, as well. She then left in search of Anpo.

The negotiations continued in earnest for quite some time. The worth of Kathleen, fairly high on the overall scale of Lakota society already, nearly doubled now that she was the daughter of the shaman. Inyan and Wanbli did the primary dickering, with Nupa putting in his opinions here and there. Stewart remained silent for most of it, watching the proceedings with avid interest. Soon a price was agreed upon and the men of Anpo's family took their leave.

Stewart offered more tea to the shaman who had remained behind. "Thank you very much, wicahcala," he said. "I would have made a mistake if I were alone."

"I know," Inyan replied with a chuckle. He pulled out his pipe and loaded the bowl. "And though both Nupa and Wanbli care for Ketlin, they would not have offered as much without me. And she deserves it."

"Ohan, she does," the white man murmured. He stared at the fire for a few moments. "What you said about her vision.... Was it a vision?"

The elder nodded, a cloud of smoke drifting from his mouth. "Ohan, it is. She sees a very bad winter coming. I have sought visions on this and found it is true." He handed the pipe to Stewart. "I do not know why the other shamans and I were not given this vision, why we were not told to prepare our people for the coming bad times. Maybe it was the spirits' way of bringing Ketlin back to us."

Stewart nodded in thought. "Maybe it was."

The joining day dawned bright and warm. Left pretty much on their own, several wicasa of Wagna's camp spent their day speaking with their relatives and acquaintances from other camps that were preparing to leave. Others proceeded to go hunting and fishing, anything to get them out of the encampment for a bit. Many of the elders surrounded the council fire and discussed the coming worries of a harsh winter. Finding enough food and robes would be the primary goal for the remainder of the season.

Kathleen was surrounded by a flurry of activity that surprised her. When she'd joined with Anpo before, the only winyan that prepared her were Gi and Hca. This time, however, she was a full Lakota woman with all the rights and benefits that incurred. It seemed that every woman from the entire summer camp had dropped by her ti ikceya to help with the preparations or give gifts. Stewart fled long ago, keeping company with Wanbli at the council fire.

Alone on a hillock overlooking summer camp, Anpo sat and watched her people. The melancholy that once held her had disappeared since the blonde woman's return, yet the need for solitude had remained. A small smile crossed her face as she saw the telltale yellow hair as a group of winyan herded her betrothed towards the river to bathe. She debated briefly about following along to watch but decided against it. I will have her all to myself soon, the warrior thought as the group of women disappeared around a bend of the river.

The morning progressed well. As the sun rose to its zenith, Kathleen found herself finally standing alone in her lodge. She was wearing a new cuwignaka that was decorated with paint and quills of green and yellow. Her hair had been combed with animal fat until it glistened and put into braids that were wrapped in otter fur. The ti ikceya was clean and stocked with all the gifts the women had brought along. Outside at the fire, a haunch of deer was roasting and nearly ready. Teca was with his tunwin for the day.

Despite the fact she'd done this before, the blonde felt butterflies in her stomach as she paced her lodge, brushing at imaginary dirt on her dress. Kathleen was almost breathless in anticipation, forcing herself to inhale deeply to get enough air. There was a knock at the entrance and her heart leapt into her chest.

Hca pulled the leather cover aside and grinned in at the blonde. "Anpo is at my ate's fire," she informed her.

Kathleen swallowed and nodded. As her friend dropped the covering, the thought crossed her mind, Am I doing the right thing? Two years of pain and emptiness flashed through her memory. The many nights crying, the nightmares, a forlorn desire for someone to cuddle with, the taste and smell of her warrior just out of reach.

Inhaling deeply, the blonde shook the memories off. "Aye, lass. There's no doubt about that. You are doing the right thing." She slipped out the tiopa.

It was almost surreal, this feeling of deja vu that overcame Kathleen as she made her way to Gi's ti ikceya. So much like the first time. She saw the entire camp was out and about in support and she smiled. And so different! When she neared the lodge, she could see her family seated about the fire, smoking and talking. But she only had eyes for Anpo, the confident warrior comfortably telling a story to her cinksi and tunska.

Anpo could feel her woman's presence. She looked up, her handsome face breaking into a welcome smile.

Silence fell about the fire as Kathleen arrived. The blonde spared a glance at the others there, finding a wreathe of smiles. With no words, she reached out her hand, sighing as Anpo's warm skin touched hers. She turned and led the way back to her own lodge, the butterflies in her stomach raging.

As she'd done before, she held the leather cover aside for Anpo before stepping in. With sure steps, Kathleen led her warrior to the place across from the entrance and helped her seat herself. Kneeling before Anpo, she gently removed the moccasins on the dark feet and replaced them with new ones. "We are joined, winuhca."

Anpo reached out and pulled the braids forward to hang in front of the blonde. "We are joined, winuhca," she repeated with a smile.

The afternoon was another whirlwind of activity. Wagna's camp celebrated the joining of the couple with a fine feast that all were invited to. Many of Mani's people joined them as well as a few others from the main summer camp. Anpo ate her midday meal at her own fire in front of Kathleen's ti ikceya, the blonde serving her with gentle grace for all to see. After all had served witness to their domestic bliss, Anpo took her winuhca by the hand and led her into the lodge.

Kathleen chewed her lower lip in a heady mix of fear, anticipation and arousal. She was reminded of the first time they had ever been together, before she understood the words spoken to her or the intentions of the strange warrior in the yellow shirt. Her mouth quirked in a slight grin as she remembered her surprise at finding a woman, not a man.

The blonde found herself being drawn to the sleeping robes that Anpo had placed in their appropriate place. The fire burned low, more for light than heat, and the bottom of the ti ikceya had been rolled up a few inches to allow a breeze to cool the interior.

Anpo stopped at the robes, turning her dark eyes on her winuhca. She recalled their first night together, as well, and proceeded to deliberately copy it. Her hands touched the pale skin, caressing, studying, bowing her head to peer closely at the small hairs that decorated it. It has been so long.... Again, the warrior marveled at the movement of the hair as her breath brushed across it.

The tickling sensation caused Kathleen to sigh and close her eyes, a shiver running up her arm and to her heart. A vague throb developed between her legs and she pressed her thighs together to ease it. It only served to intensify the need. The sensation of lips on her skin popped her eyes open. She's never kissed me there!

With tender curiosity, Anpo nibbled the pulse point at her woman's wrist, tasting the skin there for the first time. Her own body was smoldering, her heart fluttering in her chest as she proceeded to lick and kiss a line towards Kathleen's elbow. The hand she held curved about her head, pale fingers grazing her hair. Hearing a whispery sigh caused her blood to pulse hotter in her veins.

Kathleen crooked her arm, planting her hand firmly behind her warrior's head. With a craving that surprised her, she forced Anpo's mouth to her own, demanding a kiss. Their lips met, voracious appetites whetting. Hard arms wrapped about the blonde and pulled her tight, one hand behind her head, the other squeezing her rear. The wave of passion that assailed Kathleen almost made her swoon, her knees becoming weak from the rush.

Anpo freed the delicious mouth from her attentions, her motions fierce and frantic as she blazed a trail to the lithe neck. She could feel smaller arms clutching at her waist and head, could hear a moan force its way from her winuhca's throat and she bit down on the skin there, feeling the sound in her teeth. The muscles beneath her hand tightened as the blonde pushed her hips forward.

The unfamiliar sound rising from her throat shocked Kathleen even as it excited her. Dark blue eyes flickered about in confusion as if she were just waking up. A war erupted in her head, her desire fighting with the puritan upbringing of her parents. The teeth nibbling her neck and the resultant growl from her warrior sent a flood of heat to her thighs, an ache to her breasts. What's wrong with me!? I've never felt this way! Not even with Adam!

Feeling the woman in her arms begin to struggle weakly, Anpo released the smooth neck and pulled her head back. Kathleen's eyes were brimming with fear and arousal and the warrior's heart went out to her. "Hiya, Ketlin," she whispered, peering into the stormy eyes. "Shhhh. You are safe with me, mahasanni ki." With slow, deliberate movement, Anpo moved the hand that had been kneading a full buttock. As their eyes remained locked, she traced a path over the swell of hip, the curve of waist, brushing a breast.

The fear receded at the gentle touch. Kathleen's breast ached even more as her warrior's hand barely caressed it and she found herself opening her mouth in a soft sigh, eyes becoming hooded. She licked her lips, feeling thirsty and hungry all at once.

Seeing that Kathleen's fears were calming, the warrior's hand wrapped about the neck, her thumb caressing the reddening mark where her teeth had just been. "I love you, Ketlin. I will not hurt you." The thumb roamed up to follow the jawline, her other hand caressing the back of the blonde head. "We will give each other pleasure on our joining day."

Kathleen swayed a bit as she was released. With a bit of concentration, she focused on the warrior before her who was removing shirt and breechclout. The blonde blinked. A memory flitted across her mind's eye - the man in the yellow shirt becoming a woman after removing her clothing. The gentle dark eyes that promised when no words could be understood that nothing would harm her. With a smile, Kathleen pulled her dress over her head and kicked off her moccasins.

Smiling in return, Anpo took her woman by the hand and settled down on the robes. They faced each other in the dim light of the fire, sitting cross legged, knee to knee. Again, she reenacted their first night, reaching out to touch with inquisitive hands. There was a difference, however. As her hands roamed the pale skin, her dark eyes locked with Kathleen's, watching the blonde's responses.

The blonde sat very still as she was caressed. Touches trailed along her arms, gently massaged her shoulders. They brushed her neck and she arched it as a cat receiving a scratching. Dark eyes stared into hers and Kathleen tried diligently to keep visual contact. When Anpo's touch drifted to her aching breasts, it was too much and she let out a soft moan as her eyes finally closed.

Anpo's heartbeat increased at the sound. She finally dropped her own eyes and watched her dark hands against the fair skin, circling the soft roundness, watching the nipples pucker in anticipation. Curiosity washed over the warrior and she leaned closer.

A familiar sensation occurred and Kathleen's mind frantically searched for the memory. Nursing! She opened dark blue eyes and peered down her chest to see Anpo suckling her left breast. The warrior's eyes were closed and her hands had reached around Kathleen's back to support her. The sheer eroticism of the moment flushed through the blonde and she tossed her head backwards, her own hands finding the dark head and pressing closer. "Oh, Anpo," she sighed.

The skin was smooth and warm. The warrior could hear the rapid heart beating, could feel it on her lips as she sucked on the small bud. Hearing her woman's response to the suckling, a wave of passion flowed through her and she attacked the right nipple with hunger. Anpo braced the blonde with one arm, bringing her other hand forward to knead the abandoned breast.

Once again, Kathleen lost herself in the intensity. Both her hands were wrapped in raven hair and she clutched at Anpo, wanting her to continue, wanting her to stop, wanting her to do... something. Teeth grazed her nipple and she groaned, bringing her head forward to rain kisses on her lover.

With raging appetite, Anpo moaned and avidly attacked her woman's chest and neck, finally stopping at Kathleen's lips. There, her touch became gentle, her kisses teasing, drawing the blonde out and away from her nervousness and fears.

Expecting the same frenzied attention, Kathleen was frustrated. She tried to extend the kisses only to have Anpo pull away. Her dark blue eyes snapped in pique. Hands still buried in dark hair, she forced the desired lips closer and attacked them. Their tongues entwined, she could feel her warrior's moan and it urged her to lean forward.

Losing herself to the sensations, Anpo pulled her winuhca closer. She was sitting cross legged and Kathleen was in her lap, straddling her waist. The shock of their bellies and breasts touching, rubbing, pressing against each other brought another wave of arousal and sound from both of them.

Anpo's hands rubbed the pale thighs, occasionally reaching around to knead the rounded buttocks and pull the blonde closer. She could feel the light curls brushing and mingling with her own darker ones, feel the moisture there mixing with her own essence. Small hands, having finally released her hair, scratched up and down her back and shoulders. "Mahasanni ki," she whispered between incendiary kisses, capturing one of the hands.

Kathleen found her hand pressed to an aching breast. She broke off the kiss as she peered down, brushing her thumb against the darker areola, seeing the erect nipple peaking. Bringing her head back up, she stared into fiery brown eyes and licked her lips. With deliberate slowness, she squeezed the breast, capturing the nipple between thumb and forefinger.

The warrior's eyes closed and she pressed against the blonde's hips with a groan. "Ohan, mahasanni ki," she panted as the attention continued, a rush of wetness between her thighs.

It was Kathleen's turn to marvel at the effect of her touch. She lost herself in the wonder as her hands crossed heated flesh, watching her lover's reactions to the different touches. Straying down, she brushed the curly hair between them, feeling moisture. Surprised, reached further, scooping Anpo's essence onto a finger and brushing the sensitive bud.

Anpo was on fire, her body automatically bucking as the blonde touched her. She opened dark eyes to slits, watching as Kathleen studied the liquid on her finger.

"You are wet," the blonde said, holding the digit up to show the warrior.

Panting, Anpo couldn't help but chuckle. "Ohan, Ketlin. It is what happens to winyan when they are aroused." With a sly grin, she brought her own hand down and returned the favor, her smile widening at the gasp of surprise as she caressed Kathleen's sex. Bringing her finger up, she showed the blonde that it glistened with wetness, as well.

The jolt of pleasure from her center startled the blonde. While there'd been some amount of feeling with her husband, it had never been so intense with just a touch. She watched as Anpo licked her own finger clean, eyes closing with enjoyment. Kathleen peered at her damp finger, a maddening curiosity overcoming her. What does she taste like? The resulting explosion of saltiness on her tongue amazed her.

Anpo opened her eyes to see her winuhca repeating the action, finger in mouth as she sucked the warrior's essence. Her hands returned to the pale skin, pulling Kathleen's hips closer until their centers mingled. She heard a moan that drove her on and her hands massaged the firm muscles of the blonde's buttocks, moving slowly south.

As long fingers played in her wetness, Kathleen's hips began to move, pressing herself against the warrior. Not wanting to be left out, she reached between them and caressed Anpo's silky folds, her body on fire at the immediate and carnal response.

They moved together, soft moans punctuating their touches as they thrust against each other. Lips and tongues clashed together in breathless excitement, fingers reaching into places that hadn't been touched in too long. The pair rode wave upon wave of ecstasy until they cried out in a final spasm, bucking against firm skin in mutual climax.

Anpo was physically exhausted but her heart was filled to bursting. She eased backwards onto their robes until she lay with her woman splayed across her body. Her fingertips idly traced patterns on Kathleen's back and sides. I have found my path, as Inyan told me many winters ago.

The blonde relaxed under the stroking, her body sluggish. A hundred thoughts rampaged through her active mine, foremost being, Good Lord! What else have we been missing!? She listened to the steady beat of her winuhca's heart, slowing to normal after their exertions. Another sound filled her ear, the croon of her warrior singing a love song.

When it was finished, Anpo hugged her woman close. "I will never leave you again, mahasanni ki. Not even in death."

Though the words sent shivers down her spine, Kathleen lifted her head, falling into deep pools of brown. "And I will never leave you, mahasanni ki. Not even in death."

Epilogue
1784

The spring morning was chilly and a little overcast. It had rained pretty steadily for the last month and Stewart was happy for the break in the weather. He tightened the cinch on his saddle and readjusted a stirrup. Certain that he and his gear would stay on the animal, he turned to his family with a smile.

As usual, Teca was in Anpo's arms. The boy was five winters old now and becoming more and more distracted by the hoksila who ran wild through camp. Beside the pair was Kathleen, her dark blue eyes shining with tears despite the happy smile on her face. It was to her that the blond man went first.

Kathleen's breath hitched as she was gathered into his arms. She reined in her rampant emotions and bussed his cheek. "You take care of yourself, Stew," she insisted, pulling back to dust and straighten his homespun shirt.

"Ohan, sis, I will," Stewart responded. He tilted her chin with a finger and stared into eyes that were so like his own. "And you take care of yourself and your family."

Despite her best intentions, the blonde burst into tears and pulled her little brother into another embrace. "I will," she promised in a fierce whisper.

After a few moments, Stewart pulled away, his own eyes suspiciously damp. "Here now, lass! No tears!" He helped her wipe her face before turning to Anpo.

The warrior stared at him for long seconds. Her face was unreadable as she set Teca down and reached for a pouch at her feet. Anpo handed the leather to her sic'e, a slight smile gracing her face. "Thank you for bringing my winuhcala and cinksi back to me."

Blinking in surprise at the gift, Stewart opened the pouch and pulled out a fur bundle. Inside was a bone pipe, yellowed with age. Small animals were carved on it and a second piece of bone had been fashioned into the bowl, its interior blackened from use. Stewart looked up at the warrior.

"That is my best pipe," Anpo explained. "It is made from the bone of tatanka ska and is very sacred."

Stewart fairly gaped at her, knowing the importance of this item among Anpo's personal belongings. He automatically reached out to hand it back but Kathleen intercepted him.

"Never refuse a gift," she murmured.

Swallowing, the man nodded. He pulled back and looked at the warrior. "Thank you, Anpo. You do me a great honor with this gift." His mind raced as he considered his own belongings. "I have nothing to give you in return."

Anpo's smile widened. She picked Teca up again and held out her arm, draping it around Kathleen's waist. "You have given me a great gift, Stu'et, one that I can never repay. You have brought my family home to me."

Unable to top that, Stewart accepted the compliment and gift with grace. he bundled the pipe up carefully and stowed it with his gear. Final good byes were said and he mounted his horse.

"Give my best to mum and da," Kathleen said.

"I will, sis."

Teca, who had remained fairly silent through the exchange, finally called out, "Leksi! You will return?"

Stewart's eyes took in the boy, his family. He turned a bit and studied the winter camp of Wagmiza Wagna with fond eyes. A smile crossed his face and he looked back at his nephew. "Ohan, tunska! I will be back to see you."

"Good." Satisfied, Teca asked to be put down and he scampered off to his mother's ti ikceya to play.

"Take care, sis. I love you." Stewart urged his mount away, threading through the camp. Once he was through the eastern entrance, he kicked the horse into a trot.

On a hill outside of camp, Stewart pulled up short. Turning around, he looked down and saw his sister and hanka walking arm in arm back to the lodge. Teca was dancing around the fire, pretending to be hunting tatanka ska.

"Aye, sis. I'll be back. You can bet on it."

He turned the horse for home.

The End

Cast of Characters:

Hca Wanahca (hajah wah-nah-hajah) - (Cinksi/Anpo's sister) nicknamed Hca

He Osni (hee oh-shnee) - (medicine man) nicknamed He

Hehaka Yatke (heh-hah-kah yaht-keh) - owner of Kathleen from Mani's camp

Inyan Ceye (een-yahn cheh-yeh) - (shaman) nicknamed Inyan

Magaju Ahi (mah-gah-joo ah-hee) - (Anpo/Hca’s cousin) nicknamed Ahi

Nupa Olowan (noo-pah oh-loh-wahn) - (Cinksi/Anpo's childhood friend) nicknamed Nupa

Stewart Franklin McGlashan - (Kathleen's brother) nicknamed Stew

Tatanka Teca (tah-tahn-kah teh-jah) - (Ketlin/Anpo's child) nicknamed Teca

Topeya (toh-peh-yah) - (native who received the first steel knife from the white trader)

Wagmiza Wagna (wah-gamee-zah wah-ganah) - Chief of Cinksi/Anpo's camp

Wanbli Zi (wahn-blee zee) - (Cinksi/Anpo's father) nicknamed Wanbli

Waniyetu Gi (wah-nee-yeh-too jee) - (Cinksi/Anpo's mother) nicknamed Gi

Wayawa (wah-yah-wah) - medicine man of Mani's camp

Wi Sape (wee sah-peh) - (Nupa's father)

Wicasa Waziya Mani (wee-chah-shah wah-zee-yah mah-nee) - Chief

Wi Ile Anpo (wee ee-leh ahn-poh) - (a.k.a. Cinksi) nicknamed Anpo

Yus'as'a Wicasa (yoo-she-ah-she-ah wee-chah-shah) - son of Nupa and Hca, Anpo's nephew

Zintkala T'e Zito (zeen-takah-lah teh-eh zee-toh) - Opposing Lakota chief in 1768 civil war

Kathleen Sarah McGlashan Stevens - the white woman, nicknamed Ketlin

Jonathan McGlashan - Kathleen's father

Rachel McGlashan - Kathleen's mother

Stewart Franklin McGlashan - Kathleen's brother

Franklin O'Neill - Rachel McGlashan's father, Kathleen's grandfather

Kathleen O'Neill - Rachel McGlashan's mother, Kathleen's grandmother

Widower Adam Stevens - nearest neighbor and Kathleen's husband

Kathleen Sarah Stevens (nee McGlashan) - daughter of Rachel and Jonathon

Lakota Glossary:

ate - ah-teh

father

cana - cha-nah

crotch area

ce - chee

penis

cinksi - cheen-kashee

son

cunksi - choon-kashee

daughter

cuwe - choo-weh

older sister

cuwekala - choo-weh-kah-lah

precious, older sister

cuwignaka - choo-wee-genah-kah

dress

Hahatunwan - hah-hah-toon-wahn

Ojibwe tribe / 'village by the falls'

han - hahn

female greeting

hanka - hahn-kah

male to sister-in-law

hankasi - hahn-kah-shee

grandchild

hau - hah-oo

male agreement, yes / greeting

hehaka - heh-hah-kah

male deer, elk

hiya - hee-yah

negative, no

hoh - hoh

male negative, strong no

hokahe - hoh-kah-heh

"let's go"

hoksila - hoh-keshee-lah

boy

igmu - eeg-moo

cat, mysterious animal

ikceya - eek-jeh-yah

common lodge (a.k.a. tipi)

ina - ee-nah

mother

inanup - ee-nah-noop

mother two

jiji - jee-jee

fair complexioned

ki - kee

the

koskalaka - kosh-kah-lah-kah

young man

leksi - leh-kashee

uncle

mahasanni ki - mah-hah-sahn-nee kee

'my second skin', very intimate name for one's mate

maske - mah-shekeh

female to female close friend

misun - mee-soon

female to younger brother

mitan - mee-tahn

younger sister

mitankala - mee-tahn-kah-lah

precious, younger sister

nigesanla - nee-geh-sahn-lah

antelope

ohan - oh-hahn

female agreement, yes

oinikaga tipi - oh-ee-nee-kah-gah tee-pee

sweat lodge

pispiza - pees-pee-zah

prairie dog

san - shahn

vagina

Sicangu - see-gahn-goo

one of the seven tribes of Lakota

sic'e - shee-chah-eh

female to brother-in-law

ska - skah

white

stepan - sheteh-pahn

female to sister-in-law

taha - tah-hah

buckskin

takoja - tah-koh-jah

grandchild

tanksi - tahn-kashee

male form of younger sister, close friend

tatanka - tah-tahn-kah

buffalo

ti - tee

lives in

tiblo - tee-beloh

female form of older brother / close male friend

tiopa - tee-oh-pah

door, opening

tiospaye - tee-osh-pah-yeh

extended family unit

tunska - toon-shekah

nephew

tunkasi - toon-kah-shee

father-in-law

tunkasila - toon-kah-shee-lah

grandfather

tunwin - toon-ween

aunt

unci - oon-jee

grandmother

uncisi - oon-jee-shee

mother-in-law

wagmu ohanpi - wah-gemoo oh-han-pee

squash

wakan - wah-kahn

very powerful

wakan tanka - wah-kahn tahn-kah

the great spirit

wakanyeja - wah-kahn-yeh-jah

baby

wana - wah-nah

now

wansi - wahn-see

pemmican, dried meat and fruit mixture

wicahcala - wee-chah-hajah-lah

'real man,' term of respect

wicasa - wee-chah-shah

man, older adult male

wicincala - wee-cheen-jah-lah

girl

wikoskalaka - wee-kosh-kah-lah-kah

young woman

winuhca - wee-noo-hejah

'real woman', term of respect

winuhcala - wee-noo-hejah-lah

precious, real woman / term of endearment for wife

winyan - ween-yahn

woman, older adult female

wiwoha - wee-woh-hah

daughter-in-law