“My people, it is time for the first of the Stomp Dances to begin,” he announced solemnly. This night, your sachem shall be the first to perform. The song I have created is in honor of my own father, the chief known as Soaring Eagle. He was the greatest of men, and the wisest of teachers. Once, I was headstrong, bitter, and committed such deeds that were not fitting of the son of a great chief. My father turned me from my errant ways, and bestowed the gift of his wisdom upon me. My loving wife did the rest.”
He turned and raised his hand toward Jenna, who gracefully joined him on the platform. Her long, blond hair wrought a stunning contrast against the flickering flames and dark of night beyond. Both had ornamented themselves with turtle shell rattles for the dance.
Drumbeats arose from within the darkness. Running Wolf’s voice grew and lifted out over the waiting crowd. It was both haunting and strong, and Katari again felt an intense flush of pride. Her mother began to dance behind him, in time to the beat of the drums and his song. The rattles in her hands and on her ankles emphasized every rhythmic step.
Eventually, others chosen to participate in the first dance rose and joined Running Wolf and Jenna on the platform. They alternated male and female in a growing spiral around the Mother Fire. The volume of the dance increased dramatically, and swell of it filled Katari’s chest and made her heart beat in time. Each participant stomped firmly with the rhythm her mother and father had created. She adored the feeling.
Katari chanced a glance at Nicholas at that moment. She saw the surprised pleasure on his face as he watched the traditional festivity. She bit her lip, wondering if the Stomp Dance would call to the heart of a White man, too. From his expression, Katari thought that it might.
White Lynx wrapped his arm around hers and pulled her against him, breaking her train of thought. He played with her hair and even nibbled on her earlobe. “Let me watch,” she whispered heatedly.
“But, I want to dance with you, Katari,” he whispered back, and kissed her cheek. “And I wish to kiss much more than your sweet, little ear.”
Nicholas was watching them, for she could feel it. Did White Lynx’s affections make him know jealousy? She pulled away from White Lynx gently, and smiled to placate him. Katari looked down at her lap, but cast her eyes upward through long lashes. Nicholas was, indeed, staring at her. But he had hardened his face, in warrior-like fashion, and was thus unreadable to her. She sighed inwardly. It would be a long night.
~~~~~
Father Allouez patted his belly fondly. “Let the fasting begin.” The wooden plates and bowls of foods were being removed by female attendants. From the amount of dishes the people consumed, the upcoming break from food would not be a trial at all.
“I cannot believe that they are dancing so avidly after imbibing in so much,” Nicholas remarked.
The Jesuit nodded. “It seems as though the Minsi people may all possess hollow legs. This will continue all night until the sun rises. Prepare yourself, Nicholas,” he chuckled. “We will receive touch medicine at four points during the night. It will bring us needed strength.”
“Touch medicine?”
“The female healers have ceremoniously made this medicine from the roots and leaves of sacred ceremonial plants. It will help you to stay awake, infuse you with vigor, and bless you spiritually,” Allouez explained.
When the first dance was completed, Running Wolf called out the name of another. Leaning Bear rose from the throng and began his own song, calling fresh dancers to the platform.
“It will continue this way,” the Jesuit said. “Each song caller will have a take on traditional rhythms with new content and personal meaning. It is a way to showcase their talents. In my opinion, there seems to be a bit of a competition among the Minsi.”
The word ‘competition’ jolted Nicholas back to his present position. He had been staring at Katari and the guard-dog of a warrior who panted avidly by her side. In fact, the brave had just nuzzled her ear. It left a hollow feeling in his core. Did he wish to compete for Katari? Was he too late to do so anyway? Did he really think he was a better match for her than a Minsi brave?
Nicholas hardened his expression and turned his gaze back to the rhythmic flow of Native dancers. Their harmony was so different from the raucous and drunken bonfires of the portage encampments and the spring brigades he had known. Yet it was just as wild and free of spirit. However, the Native festivities would not likely end in brawling and bloodshed.
Once again, he glanced guiltily at Katari and her handsome and much younger warrior. He felt the purely male urge to take the brave down, hard and swift, and prove himself the victor by brawn alone. Nicholas had lived his entire life in a world of beat or be beaten. He had only learned to be a “gentle man” when Katari had entered his life.
Had he really changed that much in such a short amount of time? White Lynx met his eyes briefly, and Nicholas swore there was a smirk in them. If he could only keep his desires in check and impartial, he thought he had a small chance of remaining ‘gentle.’ A slim chance was better than none.
When Katari approached him a half an hour later, Nicholas could not keep the surprise from registering on his face. With a little smile, she knelt before him. He noted the way she hitched up her doeskin skirt to do so, and the smooth, golden flash of her legs taunted him briefly. He swallowed reflexively. The unbound whisk of long black hair falling across her shoulders begged him to touch it. His male instincts reacted in kind. With the Jesuit Father sitting right next to him, Nicholas reached out and did just that.
Chapter 19
The lovely yellow flecks in Katari’s eyes were full of surprise as she felt his soft touch. Their beauty was further enhanced by the dance of the Mother Fire.
“Nicholas?” she murmured in confusion when his response was to run the pad of his thumb along her jaw. He had the silly notion that her eyes could swallow him if she wished it. It was with great hesitation that he withdrew his hand from the silk shroud of her hair. He remembered it much too well.
Father Allouez coughed beside him. “I presume that Katari means to administer touch medicine onto you, Nicholas,” he explained in a voice that told him he was being watched by others as well.
Katari blinked away her hesitation, and lifted the little stoneware bowl in confirmation of the Father’s words. “As Medicine People, we believe that the touch of certain herbs, seeds, and roots upon the body will lend empowerment, healing, and positive vigor,” she explained. “As an honored guest, I would give this medicine to you, Nicholas.” She paused and looked at him expectantly.
“Take off your chest-piece for the application,” Allouez whispered in his ear. Nicholas carefully removed the ornament, which was a prized gift from her Katari’s family, and one that had taken both Jenna and Willow Plume many hours of work. At their urging, he had removed his linen shirt to better display it in the Native fashion. When he moved to dip his fingers in the bowl, the Jesuit halted him with a hand on his forearm.
Katari cleared her throat. “That is the healer’s task,” she explained. Nicholas purposely stared over the top of her petite head as she hesitantly reached up and applied the warm concoction over his chest and shoulders. His tension mounted while her soft hands passed over his body. It was too much like a lover’s caress. When he could no longer stand it, he looked down again at her. He could tell that Katari was shaken by the notion too, for her hands trembled slightly and she bit her lip.
“Your scar has mended well,” she commented softly. Her fingertips lingered on his abdomen for a heartbeat.
He deftly caught her hand. “That is all due to you, little Kat,” he replied. “Your talent for healing a man is beyond compare. In fact, this night I feel most…vigorous.”
Katari smiled, but pulled her hand away from his sharply, cutting off the moment, and moved on to the next in line. Nicholas frowned, not liking the fact that her particular brand of touch medicine need be offered up to others. White Lynx met his eye yet again, and glared at hi
m pointedly. As Nicholas turned to watch Katari’s continued progression, he thought wryly that he certainly could sympathize with the brave. He felt the sting of jealousy too.
The herbal potion dried quickly, and Nicholas replaced his new chest piece to its original position. He could feel the sticky stuff from the sacred bowl on his skin, a stark reminder of Katari’s warm passage across his bare flesh. Nicholas glanced over at the Jesuit, who was now regarding him knowingly. He had to carefully refrain from rolling his eyes in response.
“Why did you not receive this touch medicine?” he managed to ask the man, although not quite able to cover his irritation completely.
“I am not sitting, shirtless and adorned with beads as if one of the Minsi people,” Allouez rebuked him gently. “I retain my robes and look to the Lord for spiritual fortitude.”
“So then, you do not believe that our Lord and their Creator are of the same ilk?” Nick shot back lightly.
A spurt of laughter from the Father surprised Nick. “Actually, I have come to believe that very thing, Nicholas. Well put. It is the choice of the manner in which we conduct our worship that is quite different. I would place the Catholic saints above the herbs and the animals in my praise.” Allouez patted his stomach then. “And, one must not forget the growth of my belly over the past two seasons. I would spare the children.”
Nicholas chuckled. “So, it’s vanity then.”
“Perhaps a bit,” the Jesuit relented. “I am merely a man, after all.”
It was a wonder that the Jesuits remained sane at all, Nick mused. As of late, he could not keep his own mind from a particular female for even an hour’s worth of productive time. He looked over at his red-haired friend, who now had Opichi’s head cradled in his burly arms. Nick closed his eyes in defeat when Pétant went as far as to carefully ladle a spoon of pudding into the Robin’s open little mouth. What had become of them in the passing of one simple season?
~~~~~
When something went amiss with one of her children, Jenna often felt a tickling at the nape of her neck, as if a twig had touched upon it. She felt that way now. The fine and little blond hairs stood erect. Narrowing her eyes, she looked closer into the throng of people for both Grey Wolf and Katari.
She had finished applying her bowl of touch medicine, and had returned to the fire pit to ladle out more. Her son and daughter were not to be found. Her mate lounged next to the red-bearded man named Pétant, and the Ojibwe girl that Katari called the Robin. Brown Eagle, one of Jenna’s oldest friends, had joined their encampment while she was attending the people with Touch Medicine.
“Ho, Jenna,” he called. “How do you fare, this fine eve?”
She smiled down at him. “I will be much better when I hear the sound of your flute,” she replied. “Where is Gives-to-the-Water?” Jenna was also close friends with Brown Eagle’s mate, having forged a strong bond with her when they were both taken captive by the Iroquois many years ago. Jenna had been heavy with the pregnancy of her twins at the time, and very frightened with the prospect of slavery. Gives-to-the-Water had been a steady source of strength and companionship during that time.
“Again, she is inundated with requests from her mother,” the brave sighed. “It is hard to escape that woman’s sharp tongue. Aiyee.”
Jenna was thankful that her own mother-in-law’s company was a blessing, and not a curse. Willow Plume had adopted her, had cared for her, and had taught Jenna the language and ways of the Minsi with compassion and tender guidance.
Her father-in-law, Soaring Eagle, the Minsi chief at the time, had been very kind to her as well. He had protected her from harm and helped to raise her status in the tribe. It had been a shock when the old, yet healthy man, had passed in his sleep five years prior, with no warning whatsoever. It had been a blow to them all, and had left a sort of bitterness in its wake that her family had been struggling to subdue. Jenna and her daughter had not been given the chance to utilize their healing talents with Soaring Eagle. He had simply been taken from them without cause.
“I understand a mother’s requests,” she answered knowingly, thinking of Willow Plume’s loneliness. Although the gentle woman had accepted the death of her mate with humble grace, it was hard to carry on in the wake of such a tremendous loss. Jenna took care to make sure she and her children filled the woman’s life with gaiety as much as possible. Katari was a bright flame to them all.
But that had recently changed. Jenna knew that her daughter was not the same since the return from her grand adventure. Katari was often pensive now, and her exuberance was tempered by a strange melancholy.
Jenna was familiar with the terrible strain of unrequited – or misconstrued - love. Her journey to a union with Running Wolf had never once been a smooth one. But eventually, love had prevailed, and held strong. Now, Jenna hoped that her daughter was not making a costly mistake by accepting White Lynx’s attentions.
She needed to learn more about this French trapper known as Nicholas Belline. Something was amiss, and it was no doubt that this man was the cause. She watched him now, sitting across the fire and next to the Brother Jesuit. But for his brown hair, he looked the part of a Native brave. A true warrior, in fact. Although broadly shouldered and well-formed, she wondered how big his heart was on the inside.
Brown Eagle caught onto her furrowed brow and the way she was staring off in the White man’s direction. “They are all to go on a hunting foray late tomorrow, after a day of rest,” he informed her. “Running Wolf has evidently taken a liking to the men who saved his beloved daughter.”
She sniffed. “He did not tell me this.”
“Warriors,” he shook his head wryly. Jenna rolled her eyes at him, for Brown Eagle was an accomplished one, as well as her husband.
“So tell me, what has your little brother White Lynx told you about the arrival of these French people who saved Katari? Is he pleased?”
Now it was Brown Eagle’s turn to look at her with the raised eyebrows of sarcasm. “Hardly, but you must realize this. Jenna, do you know what truly happened on that trip? Why is my younger brother so very jealous of this White man, Nicholas?”
Jenna exhaled slowly. She would not betray her daughter’s confidence. “Do you remember our dilemma, when we were both young and unsure?”
Brown Eagle nodded and his eyes clouded over momentarily. Jenna knew that Brown Eagle had loved her, once. But they had both realized that it was not meant to be. Running Wolf had been Jenna’s destiny all along.
“You believe that Katari and White Lynx are on a similar path?”
Jenna shrugged and sighed. “I am having my doubts, with no disrespect to your little brother. But having made the decision to finally wed, Katari has changed, and not for the better. Her usual…exuberance… for life itself is greatly diminished. She does not wish to use her gifts for healing, either.”
“Well, we all must become adults at some point,” Brown Eagle admonished.
Jenna shot him a wide-eyed look. “You should be the least to talk!”
The brave grinned. “True. I never did grow out of my youthful, good looks.”
She laughed. “Nor your penchant for childish mischief.” Jenna chanced a look over at White Lynx, who sat gloomily with his loyal friend Chogan by his side. “Your little brother could use a healthy dose of your humor,” she added quietly.
“Yes.” Brown Eagle scratched his chin. “You know, he reminds me very much of a younger Running Wolf, in the time before you wedded together.”
Jenna gasped. “It is so! Running Wolf was so bitter and grim in those days. He was a difficult man to deal with.”
“Well, he did have reason to be so. But, you and your beauty managed to melt his heart into something more malleable.” Running Wolf’s laughter could be heard above the din at that very moment. He certainly was a changed man, Jenna thought. The right pairing was essential, in her opinion.
Many Native tribes allowed for arranged marriages or even the sale of daughters in return
for family gain. Both she and Running Wolf were firmly opposed to the practice, having learned the hard way that the bond of love was necessary for lasting happiness and positive, well-adjusted children.
“Katari and Grey Wolf are to dance next,” Jenna commented. “Perhaps you can find a chance to read your younger brother’s thoughts. I will attempt to learn more about this Nicholas Belline.” She saw Running Wolf clap the trapper on the back in appreciation and good cheer. “He certainly has my husband enthralled. It is quite unusual, for he has always been distrustful of White men.”
Brown Eagle chuckled. “Yes, it is curious. I will talk to my brother. I think I shall join the hunting group tomorrow as well.”
“Hmm. I may join the foray as well. So we are partners in our general mischief once again?” she asked him with an arch of her fine, blond brow.
Brown Eagle smiled, remembering many of their own, young schemes. “Indeed.”
~~~~~
“Little sister, are you ready?” Grey Wolf questioned her with an open smile.
“Oh, yes!” Katari stood, and sidled away from White Lynx, feeling his hand reluctantly trail away from her arm. She had told him that the dance was intended only for brother and sister, being twins on life’s journey. In truth, the statement was a bit of a fib. She mostly did not want to dance with White Lynx in front of the watching eyes of Nicholas Belline. The mere thought gave her a strange and unpleasant feeling.
Grey Wolf cupped his hands around his mouth, and with a loud call, claimed the next Stomp Dance as his own. Taking her hand, they walked regally to the stage, brother and sister united. When they both stood before the tribe and a hush fell over the crowd, Grey Wolf spoke.
“We all know the special reason behind tonight’s Stomp Dance. I have written a song that was born within the very souls of Katari and me. Now, I wish that to share our story with each one of you. It is a melody that tells of awe-inspiring adventure, and of a journey filled with dangers. Yet, this song brims with the excitement of what might yet come for us both. Hear us now.”
Savage Journey Page 18
