“I do not want such a bond!” Katari huffed. She knew, deep inside, that this connection she felt had begun long before Nicholas was stabbed by Le Tousse and subsequently healed by her. The fear of her loss of him to death, and the resultant trance had only made it stronger.
“It is the price of healing. And sometimes, the gift,” Jenna said succinctly. “My teacher, Wise Moon, showed me the way of this. You will learn with time, Katari.”
“Mother, I do not think I shall heal another again.” She shook her head staunchly. “It drained me in more ways than I care to think of.” The comb became ensnared on a tangle of her hair as her hand shook suddenly with the remembrance.
Jenna pulled the comb from Katari’s fingers and began to gently take over the task. “I marvel at your hair, so different from mine, and yet so achingly beautiful. I do not understand how it came from my body. Or how the yellow in your eyes arrived there. Each of us is unique in his or her gifts. Most importantly, in the endowments that come directly from the Creator.”
Katari’s shoulders began to shudder as she struggled to hold her tears at bay. When Jenna embraced her, she could not help but to release them.
“Let it go, my daughter,” Jenna whispered. “You will be strong for your people.”
When the tears eventually evaporated, Katari felt ready to face the evening ahead.
~~~~~
The Minsi village was quite unlike any settlement Nicholas Belline had ever visited.
He’d lived in shabby huts and dugouts that smelled of shit. He’d lived beneath torn and urine-stained canvas while he eked out the life of an abandoned child in the port town known as Lachine of Montreal. He’d dwelled within the rough trade encampments along the Great lakes where men pissed in the streets, and there was an excellent chance of stepping in puddles of vomit on any given night. He’d lived in the multi-cultural city of New Amsterdam, in a real house, with roads and shops and inns, and the strident smell of the wharf in the air.
Although he had come upon many Native peoples in his travels, he had never actually entered into the sanctity of a tribal village. It seemed that the Minsi community flourished within the forest in ways that he’d never imagined. The flow of rounded dwellings was woven into a landscape that blended gently with the earth and trees. Where the lodges ceased, luxuriously green fields of corn, squash, and beans stretched onward into the distance, curving gracefully with the bed of the swiftly cascading stream. In places, the watercourse’s banks were sandy, and women lounged there, scrubbing their pots and dousing clothing, all while chatting amenably. Some had their babies strapped to cradleboards on their backs while toddlers played with stones on the bank.
Older children trotted here and there, their youthful voices raised with pleasure. Some were intent on playing various games, while others carried out tasks for their parents. All wore smiles and giggles when they looked his way. The sun was bright, and yet it was filtered gently by the soft wave of tree limbs and boughs that swayed just above him. In the distance was the intermittent warble of the wood thrush, the lovely theme song of the eastern forests.
“They are known as the Original People, the People of the Rising Sun, the Wabanaki,” said Father Allouez in explanation. “They hold the clanship of the Wolf.”
“I am suitably impressed,” returned Nick. “I have never seen a village more beautiful than this.”
“It is truly the most magnificent place I have witnessed to date,” replied Allouez earnestly. “Hopefully, the Minsi will hold these grounds for some time.”
“Have there been skirmishes?”
“A few,” Allouez sighed. “The Minsi are a peaceful tribe, yet their lands border the Iroquois to the north, the Susquehannock to the west, and the encroachment of Whites from the coast.”
Nicholas grimaced. “I fear the Whites could pose the greatest threat.”
Father Allouez nodded. “I hear more tales like such with every passing year. Not all men are good. The Natives are easy to dupe with White promises. Their race believes in honor above all else while many outsiders do not. I am quite wary of the East India Company, in fact.”
“Are you always this well received among the Native peoples, Father?”
“Here, most certainly, however, I have converted none of them at all. Even Jenna, who was once of the Christian faith, has adopted the Minsi beliefs and values as her own.” He laughed. “To my Jesuit Brothers, my time here has proven a total failure, and yet I have learned more from these people than I could name to you. Through their teachings, I have been able to enter other tribes unharmed, where I might have not been so well received.”
Nicholas had heard of what happened to Jesuits who were not wanted, or even despised for their intent. There were those who had even been tortured and killed in their efforts to make contact and spread the Christian faith.
“At any rate, it seems that we are to be honored guests, thanks to your participation in Katari’s welfare and return to her people. She was much loved by her family,” the Father commented.
Nick laughed. “Yes, I certainly noticed.”
The Jesuit slanted him a sideways look. “I also happened to notice when the young lady slapped you quite soundly. What is the reason she would do such a thing, Nicholas?”
Nicholas felt dread squirm in his stomach. The Jesuit certainly knew well of his anticipation and haste to travel to her people, and was sharp of wit. “I believe that she did not get a chance to do it earlier in our journey, and thus felt the need,” he declared grimly. “I am not the most polished of men, you see. But I did no outward harm to her, you can believe that.”
Allouez chuckled. “Katari has always been impetuous. But I am sensing there is more to your mutual journey than you – or Katari - would admit.”
Nicholas watched the flight of three black crows low above the rows of fluttering corn that had just begun to tassel. Two young boys darted among the nodding stalks, hooting and shaking sticks in the air at the invaders intent on stealing a morsel. Eventually, the birds moved on. “Yes, Father, a bit,” he finally agreed. “But I took much care with ensuring that her honor stayed intact throughout our travels.”
“Tell me, is it true that Katari healed you in such a miraculous way?”
He nodded. “That is the real truth. I can think of no earthly reason as to why I should live on, with nothing but a scar to pain me. Is it pagan magic?”
The Father smiled and clapped him on the back. “Nicholas, I believe it is a sign that there is but one Creator and that he lives in all of us. You were blessed by something holy. You have a purpose. Perhaps, it is to be here at this time, with me.”
With a sigh, Nicholas closed his eyes. Again, the Jesuit would have him believe that he was a good man, and blessed by God as such. With all of the sins he had accumulated to date, he highly doubted anything of the like.
Nicholas knew without doubt that he had come here with a purpose. He could not manage to keep the beauty of Katari out of his head. He wanted another chance with her heart. And he dreamed every single day of taking her captivating innocence for himself. What would the good Father think about those unholy intentions?
“It’s time to ready for the feast,” Allouez told him, pulling him from his reverie, and the barrage of explicit images it had evoked in his mind. “It is said there will be a Stomp Dance this night. You will be quite entertained.”
Nicholas would need to be on good behavior. To anger Katari’s family or intended mate would not be wise, indeed.
Chapter 18
The spotted mongrel was quite unlike any creature Nicholas had ever seen before. Dogs were common, especially among the Native peoples, and yet this animal looked nothing like the others of its kind among the tribe. It was large of frame, yet was lanky with prominently defined ribs. A thick patch of longer hair ran down its chest and along its spine.
“That is the one I call Nahi.”
Nicholas looked up in surprise at the sound of Katari’s voice. She had a basket of
green vegetables cocked on one curving hip, and had quietly appeared where he lounged outside of the Big House. The mutt had approached him cautiously at first, and then with greater enthusiasm when he found no threat in Nicholas’s substantial form.
Katari paused, and reached down to scratch the dog on his coarsely whiskered chin. He licked at her hand eagerly, apparently knowing and liking her well. The mutt’s hearty affection brought a pretty smile to the corners of the girl’s lips. Wryly, Nicholas wished that he still could do the same thing.
“He came to my people from somewhere downstream. That is the meaning of the word Nahi. He is not from any of the she-dogs of this village that I know of,” she continued. “He arrived outside my family’s lodge after a thunderstorm last August, and has remained ever since. Nahi is….unique among his kind.”
“I see that,” he murmured in assent, holding his tongue against the torrent of other adjectives that came to mind.
Katari laughed at his expression. “Yes, I know he is the ugliest thing that you have probably ever seen. I feed him as often as possible, and yet he never gains any weight. His coat is…well, strange. But he is loyal, and an excellent guard to the ponies.”
He nodded. “The only qualities a good dog need possess.”
“Loyalty is invaluable.” Her yellow-brown eyes met and held his for a moment, judging him, and then moved away.
Nick bit his lip, knowing that the comment was intended to show him that he had evidently lost all of hers.
He cleared his throat. “So, tell me of this Stomp Dance, Katari. Do you enjoy the ceremony?”
The question caught her attention swiftly, just as he knew it would do. “Oh, yes!” she grinned with her natural enthusiasm. “It is known as Anskan, and usually takes place during the Green Corn festival. We give thanks for the return of the summer and the land’s bounty, and celebrate in kind.”
“I see that there is some construction going on,” he noted.
She pointed. “That platform you see will become what is known as the Square Ground. In the center will be the Mother Fire. We will very likely dance all night, and only seek our rest when the dawn comes.”
“It sounds intriguing.”
“You will enjoy the feasting, of that I am sure. And perhaps the dancing as well,” she pondered. “We have some extremely talented song-makers now. Oh, and you will-” Katari paused when her eyes caught his. “Well, Opichi will be pleased, I am quite certain,” she added after a moment’s thought.
“She is resting this very moment in preparation,” he smiled.
“Oh… that is good. Very good.” Katari glanced at the Big House, and then back at Nicholas. “I came here specifically to check on her, you know.” Her guilty flush told him otherwise, and he broadened his grin.
“I will make sure to tell her that you were here.”
Katari nodded once and then skittered away, with the mongrel she had named Nahi following close at her heels, having deemed the newcomer less important.
Nicholas found that he was looking forward to the feast and dancing. Very much so.
~~~~~
The afternoon hours remained cloudless and bright. When dusk fell, there was a crispness left to the air that was uncharacteristic of mid-summer. Katari supposed that the chill was a good thing, for insects would be much less of an annoyance. A Stomp Dance often became a sweaty affair when the central fire pit grew hot with embers. The coolness would indeed, become a welcome gift.
Her family had set up their camp at the front-center of the Square Ground, in the prime position, as was fit for the sachem of the tribe. Pétant, Opichi, Nicholas, and Bertrand Allouez were to be among the honored guests, and were welcomed to the sachem’s prized position in the front. And, of course, White Lynx was to accompany Katari throughout the festival as well. The knowledge should have made her happy, but in truth, just left a disgruntled ache in the pit of her belly, much like she had consumed a soured currant.
It appeared, in fact, that White Lynx was to be her ever-present shadow this evening. He had arrived early to her campfire under the pretext of offering a dish of roasted fowl prepared by his mother, Little Sun. It was a task usually doled out to a youngster, and not to a seasoned warrior.
After awkwardly presenting her with the food, he solemnly added, “I would give you this, also, Katari.” Around her shoulders, the brave placed a pelt woven and stitched together of the softest brown and white rabbit furs that she had ever felt.
She smiled her thanks. “This blanket will come in handy this evening, White Lynx,” she murmured appreciatively. “The rise of the moon is draining away all of the remaining warmth from the ground.”
The brave merely grunted, likely unwilling to admit that a warrior would ever notice the effects of a chill in the air. With a sigh, Katari went back to aiding her mother fill the clay cooking pots with food and placing them on embers to warm. The smells were divine and her stomach growled reflexively.
More and more people crowded to the Square Ground as the evening deepened. Katari had spent as much time as possible cleaning herself, brushing her hair until it shined, and oiling her arms and legs so they would glisten in the firelight. By the glint in White Lynx’s eyes, she knew that her youthful desirability was at its highest.
Yet, Nicholas had not seen her as irresistible in her charms. How many times had he pushed her away? Katari’s stomach turned in knots at the thought. What would he think of her on this night?
Her father was not long in arriving with his guests. Opichi giggled her way into Katari’s arms, and her brown eyes were sparkling with excitement. Pétant and Nicholas were freshly clean-shaven, and had smoothed back their hair neatly. It surprised her that they both had donned Native clothing. Katari’s eyes flew over Nicholas’s body, now naked to the waist but for a chest-plate of interwoven beads and porcupine quills. Where had it come from? Once again, the breadth of his shoulders and the play of muscle beneath his skin made her quiver. She flushed and looked away guiltily, wondering why her thoughts always turned in this frustrating direction.
Running Wolf rose to stand before the gathering. “It has surely been a fruitful year for the Minsi people,” he began. “The crops are lush, and the game has been plentiful. I am joyful over the successful return of my son and daughter to the tribe. Grey Wolf, Chogan, and White Lynx have made successful trade in the Dutch city, and brought home wealth.”
He turned, raising both palms up, toward Nicholas and Pétant. “We have made new friends this year. And the life of my daughter has been spared because of this blessing. Tonight, we will celebrate all of our good fortunes. The smoke from the Mother Fire will carry our thankfulness upward to the Creator as we celebrate together.”
When Running Wolf turned to take his seat, cheers rose through the scattered campfires. It was time for the feasting to begin. There were various roasted meats and smoked trout to chose from. Tiny golden corncakes had been wrapped in leaves and baked slowly in the embers, and sweetened with maple sugar, and they melted in the mouth. There were herb soups, baked squashes, fried beans, puddings seasoned with berries, and a variety of steamed greens to select from. Katari could not even mount an attempt to sample it all.
Pétant and Opichi devoured the Native delicacies like starving people. “It has been sooo long since I ate such wonderful things,” Opichi moaned in delight, seated next to her. White Lynx sat pensively to her left side. Katari struggled not to lift her gaze toward Nicholas, who sat talking and eating with her father and the Jesuit priest. It was a hard thing to do – not looking - and the knowledge of her weakness for the trapper grated on her nerves. She sent a determined smile in White Lynx’s direction, and was pleased when he noticeably relaxed, and took up chatting with Chogan once again.
Opichi was describing the rigors of pregnancy. Some of it made Katari blanch with distaste. Yet, the little Robin seemed extremely happy and excited about the upcoming birth. Katari assured her that both she and her mother would attend, and bring her son or d
aughter into this world in the best way possible.
“It is lucky that your babe will be birthed after the worst of the winter snows, Opichi,” she told her friend. “The weather will be less rigorous than mid-winter, and you will spend the early spring cuddled under pelts with the infant rather than working in the fields with him strapped to your back. I was late winter-born, and it was very difficult for my mother to endure.”
Opichi nodded. “That is true. But I am not as afraid as my husband. You would be surprised that a man as big gruff as Pétant could be so frightened over the thought of a babe,” she laughed. “He is beside himself with his fears.”
Katari chuckled at the notion herself. Many men would rather face down the attack of a she-cougar than be faced with the task of attending a tiny and hairless wailing babe.
Attendants added wood to the Mother Fire, brightening the shadows and sending the flicker of firelight over bare skin and animated faces. Katari allowed the rabbit pelt to slip from her shoulders as the warmth from the flames coursed over her. She smoothed her dress, the one she had painstakingly dyed to a pretty ochre shade and decorated with tiny shell beads of wampum carefully stitched into the fabric. Sewing with patience was not her strong-point, and the pads of her fingers sported many bone-needle marks. She would dance tonight, and the knowledge that she would be watched by the guests made her nervous as a result.
Eventually, the attendants moved to the four corners of the raised platform, and took up position there, facing the north, south, west, and east. The platform had been encircled earlier by a ring of holy earth that symbolized the never-ending cycle of life and the seasons.
Running Wolf rose once again. He was adorned in the sacred cloak of eagle feathers that belonged only to the Minsi chief. The black hair that hung to his waist had been interwoven with beads and feathers, and his face was painted with a bold, red design. Katari felt a swell of pride at his savage beauty.
Savage Journey Page 17
