by Sharon Sala
“I do not understand how you have chosen her. You only saw her one time in our lodge.”
“I saw her in my dream and she saw me. We were together in the dream.”
Matto grunted. Spirit walking was a thing of great magic and not everyone could do it. He had not known his daughter possessed this trait.
“She has many traits,” Evan said, forgetting the chief had not spoken that aloud.
Matto’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Evan anew.
Evan sighed. He’d inadvertently given himself away, but it didn’t matter. In fact, truth was always best.
“Yes, I heard your thoughts,” Evan said. “My brother and I are shamans. We were advisors to the great Chief Cayetano of the Mayan people in Naaki Chava, and we now serve the Windwalker’s daughter. My brother and I have powers to see the future and we know when people are being truthful or not.”
Matto was impressed. Evan was a warrior with power and he had chosen his daughter.
“If my daughter wishes to leave with you, I will not stop her,” Matto said.
Evan breathed a sigh of relief.
“I am a good hunter. I will honor her presence in my life and take care of her always.”
Matto nodded.
Evan relaxed. It was done.
“I will come for her when it is time for us to leave,” he said.
Matto nodded. “I will tell her,” he said, and then added, “We, the Lakota, are grateful for the winter robes. They will keep us warm on the long trek home.”
Evan nodded, then as he turned around to leave saw Suwanee walking toward them. He glanced once at the chief and then went to meet her. He didn’t stop to question the elation he felt at seeing her. He’d already decided this must be what love felt like, and was slightly overwhelmed by it.
“Suwanee!”
She looked up, saw him coming toward her with a smile on his face and in that moment knew everything she was about to do was right. It was a bit frightening to think of leaving what she knew, but with this warrior as her husband, she would be loved and cherished for the rest of her life. It was enough.
***
Tyhen had been awakened by the drums. She heard and understood the reasons, but she was still angry and had nothing to say. She was holding fast to Yuma and afraid to close her eyes when she felt a slight touch against her bare shoulder as someone lifted the buffalo robe. She knew within seconds it was Dakotah. When the warmth of his skinny body settled against her back, she sighed. It was hard to hold anger with such a gentle heart beside her, and slowly the rage within her began to die and she slept.
Dakotah, worried about the two people most important in his life, had wormed his way through the guards to where they lay sleeping. He snuggled in behind Tyhen and scooted up against her back, as if protecting her vulnerable side, and in doing so, broke the ice around her heart.
***
All of the New Ones went to bed that night with renewed anxiety. It was obvious their tasks would not be easy, nor would they just be teaching the People about the white men’s ways and languages. There were centuries of tribal customs and behaviors that were going to be difficult to change, and after last night’s long walk, they slept the sleep of exhaustion and dreamed of Earth as it had been in the days before Firewalker. It was a requiem for all they’d lost.
The tribes were also troubled and uncertain how bringing the New Ones into their world would impact their lives. The New Ones knew nothing about their way of life and they weren’t sure they wanted change. But after all they had witnessed and the angry Thunderbirds flying over them and blocking out the sun, there was no mistaking the message they had been given.
***
Tyhen and Yuma had gone to their own camp before nightfall, grateful that someone had already set everything up. They went inside too weary to eat and quickly fell asleep.
Tyhen was sleeping and dreaming of home. In the dream she was sitting in Singing Bird’s lap, watching the monkeys play outside their window as Singing Bird combed the tangles out of her hair. She could feel her mother’s fingers on her scalp—even heard the laughter in her voice. And then all of sudden she felt another presence enter her dream and heard a voice say, “Open your eyes,” and so she did.
She woke to see the spirit of an old man standing just inside their tent in a circle of light. His face was lined with wrinkles—so many that his eyes almost disappeared within them. Gray braids wrapped with white fur hung down past his waist, and the bits of clothing he wore were all made of a rawhide bleached white by the infinity of sunlight. His legs were bowed. His feet were bare, and he was holding a staff crowned with white dove feathers tied to the top. He didn’t move or speak aloud and yet she began to hear his voice.
When the sun sets tomorrow you must all be gone. Tatanka comes with the snow. Anyone who lingers will be frozen or trampled. The Gathering is done.
Tyhen’s heart skipped a beat. As large as the Gathering was, and as many people who were here, the numbers of the great wooly buffalo were far more.
I will tell them, and then what? What about me? What am I to do next?
He was silent for so long she thought he would not answer, and then he raised the staff and pointed it straight at her head.
You are the Windwalker’s daughter. You already know your path. If you do not see it with your eyes, then follow it with your heart.
He disappeared before her eyes, and then she heard another voice—one she had thought was lost to her forever.
Tyhen? Tyhen? Can you hear me?
Mother! Oh Mother, I feared I would never hear your voice again.
I saw you with the eagles. You are truly Niyol’s daughter and I am so proud of the woman you have become.
Tears burned Tyhen’s eyes as she listened, taking in the praise and hearing the words of a mother’s love.
Mother, I have a baby in my belly.
Are you afraid?
Yes. I would wish you were going to be with me when I give birth.
You have many with you who love you as I do. The twins know about the baby. They knew before you. A child around you also knows, and Yuma knows. It’s why he took the knife meant for your chest. He knew you could not die, but the same gift has yet to be given to your daughter. He killed a man to save me when you were still in my belly, and he took the knife meant for you to save his child.
Tyhen sighed. So much was explained now. Why Yuma reacted with such fierceness. Why Dakotah followed her every step! As for the twins, she should have known nothing was a secret around them. But she couldn’t understand how Yuma would know and keep that from her? She would ask later.
Thank you, my mother. I am grateful for your presence. I am grateful for your message. Now I have one for you. Tomorrow we all leave the Gathering. Yuma and I will travel with the Cherokee. We are going home, Mother. On the way I think we will travel through land that was Layla Birdsong’s home. I will think of you then when we walk through the Oklahoma that was the Muscogee lands of your time. I will say a prayer for you there.
Tyhen thought she heard a sob, and then her mother’s voice grew fainter until the sound was just a whisper.
You are loved.
The silence within her was sudden.
Mother! Mother! Are you still there?
But she was gone.
She rolled over, careful not to aggravate the wounds on her arms, and then ran a finger across the curve of Yuma’s lips.
His eyes opened instantly.
“You are in need?”
“How did you know of the baby and not tell me?”
The look of love that spread across his face was overwhelming.
“I knew only moments before I jumped,” he said. “It was Evan who told me and I quickly understood the baby would die, even if you did not.” Then leaned over and kissed her.
Every emot
ion Yuma was feeling went through her. When he pulled away, she was blind from unshed tears.
“I have something to tell you, but I am afraid you will be angry with me,” she said.
He frowned and shook his head.
“Never.”
“I did not know the baby was in my belly until today when the Old Ones told me. I was begging them to save your life. I told them I would not finish this journey without you. I told them I would find a way to end what I am if they did not.”
Yuma heard the hurt and fear in her voice and could only imagine what she’d been feeling.
“I am so sorry, my little whirlwind. I did not intend to leave you all alone.”
She swallowed around the knot in her throat and then closed her eyes. She did not want to see the shock on his face when she confessed the rest.
“They told me I could not end my life because I was with child. I was so scared and so mad that I didn’t want anything without you and told them I didn’t care. I told them that I would end both our lives before I’d let her be born with such a burden as the one given to me because it is nothing but sacrifice and pain. I told them I would be doing her a favor if she never drew breath.” Her voice was shaking now and hardly more than a whisper. “Are you angry I would let her die after you died trying to save her?”
Yuma cupped her face as her tears rolled beneath his fingers.
“Please don’t cry. I understand why you would feel that way. Everything including free will was taken away from you before you were born, just as it will be for our child.”
Her voice was shaking as she slid her hand across his waist.
“I’ve told you this so many times, but I will say it again. I cannot do this without you.”
“And now you don’t have to,” he said.
She sighed. “There’s one more thing.”
“I am listening.”
“We have to be gone from here before sunset tomorrow.”
His heart started to pound.
“All of us?” he asked.
“Every person and every thing.”
“Why? What’s happening?”
“Tatanka comes and so does the snow.”
“The buffalo? Coming here?” He groaned. “Everyone here will be trampled.”
“Yes.”
He frowned.
“How do you know this?”
“He told me,” she said.
“Who’s He? Who told you this?” he asked.
“I think it was the First One. I think it was the Great Spirit, himself. He was just here.”
While Yuma was trying to wrap his head around the fact that the entity his father had called God might have been standing inside this tent, the rest of what she’d said finally sank in.
“By sunset tomorrow?”
She nodded and then pushed the buffalo robe aside and got up on her knees.
“No one is going to be happy, but they have to be told,” she muttered.
“It doesn’t matter whether they like it or not,” he said, and began feeling around for their clothing until he found the pieces that had been washed clean of the blood.
“They aren’t all dry,” he said, wishing for light inside the tent.
“We’ve worn them wet plenty of times,” Tyhen said. “Can you find my shift?”
“Just give me a few minutes to sort all this out,” he said.
She could just see the shape of his body as he knelt beside her.
“You are well?” she asked, as she laid a hand on his back, making sure she felt no fever.
He paused, then turned around and found her mouth in the darkness as surely as a moth flies straight to the only light. The kiss was brief but it raised the wind around them, lifting the hair from her back and feeding the hunger for him in her belly. The power with which he kissed her was telling. He was back to his old self.
“I am well. The Old Ones gave me back in fighting shape,” he said.
“Then it is enough,” she said, and began to get dressed.
***
Suwanee was dreaming of Evan when she began hearing what she thought was someone shouting. It wasn’t until she sat up that she realized it was the Dove calling everyone to awaken.
They spilled out of their lodges and their sleeping tents and looked up into the air. The sky was overcast, hiding the shy quarter moon. They could barely see Tyhen, but they heard her loud and clear.
“Tomorrow evening great herds of the wooly beasts you call Tatanka will arrive in this valley and with them comes a storm. Much snow will fall, trapping them here. We have to be gone before that happens.”
Except for an undertone of panic, the people did not question what she said. The New Ones were used to reacting to Tyhen’s warnings at a moment’s notice and immediately began putting out smoldering campfires and repacking the things they had unpacked yesterday morning.
The tribes who’d been waiting at the Gathering gladly obeyed. They had been waiting on the arrival of the Dove so that they could return to their homelands, and now their wait was over.
***
Tyhen flew back over the New Ones, her heart aching with the knowledge that she would never see these people again. They were already packing. The ache in her chest was so sharp that it hurt to draw breath.
She thought of Montford and Susie, and of Johnston who made the best knives and jerky. She thought of the healer, Myra Begay, and of Keechee, the weaver from Cayetano’s palace. She knew somewhere down there Lola and Aaron were packing up thinking Dakotah would go with them, but she knew now that he would not. Because of the baby she carried, Dakotah would go with her.
She thought of the New Ones she’d grown up with, the ones she’d played ball with back in Naaki Chava. They had shared so many memories together, and now those times were coming to an end.
She hovered over the campsite as the sky lightened in the East, and when the sun was rising over the prairie, she circled the New Ones with her arms outstretched, her dark hair flying out around her face. She was the Windwalker’s daughter, but it was Tyhen who had come to say goodbye.
“My heart is heavy. We are the New Ones for only a few moments more. One journey is over but another one is beginning. You go to change history. You must not fail. My quest was to get you to the Gathering. That is done. I leave here with Yuma’s people, the Cherokee, and I leave here with his baby in my belly. The next Windwalker for the People is already waiting to be born.”
A great roar of jubilation rose up, vibrating the air around her. She searched the crowd below her for Yuma’s face and then heard him first.
I am here below you. Look down.
And so she did, straight into his gaze. He was smiling.
Then she saw Dakotah standing beside him. With a trembling voice, she continued her goodbye.
“Walk into your new life knowing that my daughter already has her own eagle. He is waiting for her to be born. See Dakotah! See the boy who stands with my Yuma. She will love him forever and he will protect her with his life.”
Then she heard Adam and Evan’s voices.
He knows her name. He said she already told him.
At that moment, Tyhen felt the weight of centuries upon her back.
Does he tell you what it is? she asked.
Walela.
Tyhen was speaking slowly as she tried out the word.
Wah—lee’—la, she said, accenting the second syllable, then she heard Evan chuckle.
Yes. It is the Cherokee word for butterfly, which is most fitting. It begins as one thing and turns into another, just as the baby will do. She will be as others for a while until she turns into a Windwalker like you.
Tyhen sighed. Not once had she made a decision of her own. Even her own baby was already named before it was born.
Chapter Fourteen
&
nbsp; Sadness and an air of inevitability hung over the New Ones’ campsite as they hastily packed. They tried to pretend it was just another camp to break, but it was doubtful they would ever see each other again. Their shared tragedies had been brutal, but they were leaving with people who had no knowledge of their time. Their past would cease to exist in order to make certain their people’s future would thrive. It was a heartbreaking moment that had been long in coming.
If they’d stayed true to plan, Lola and Aaron would have gone with the Navajo back to their homelands, but in the end she had been unable to leave Dakotah behind, so while the rest of the Nantay family and dozens of others went with the Navajo, Lola and Aaron stayed with the contingent of New Ones attached to the Cherokee tribe. Now they were waiting for a chief called Small Foot, so named because one foot was much smaller than the other. Although there were six other chiefs from the seven clans of the Cherokee with them, it would be by his order when the march began.
Yuma’s excitement was obvious. He was talking and laughing as he walked among the tribe, knowing he was going to be instrumental in helping his father’s people.
Tyhen was standing at the end of a journey her mother had begun and didn’t know how to feel. Whatever happened after this was out of her control.
The wind was sharp today, a forerunner of the storm of cold and frozen. The hood on her winter coat had slipped off her head, giving the wind easy access to the long tangled locks around her face before rudely whipping them across her eyes.
The baby she carried still didn’t seem real. She had not heard her voice. She had not felt her move, and yet she knew the Old Ones did not lie. All of her thoughts were as tangled as her hair and she had no idea of how to put either one of them back in place. With a sigh, she turned to look at what was left of the Gathering.
The tall grass was trampled as far as the eye could see, and the places where cooking fires had been were absent of grass altogether. A tiny tendril of smoke spiraled up from cooling ashes nearby. She absently stomped it with her foot as Dakotah moved into her line of vision.
He was wrapped in the winter robe Lola had made for him long before the weather got cold. His moccasins were rabbit skin turned inside out so that the fur was against his bare feet, and the rabbit fur leggings went all the way up his deerskin pants to his knees. The hood on his robe was lined with the same fur as his leggings, and his knife was tied to a rawhide belt around his waist. He was a miniature version of every warrior on the plains and the intensity on his face was almost frightening.
