"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 yo
u 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
Tiopa Ki Lakota Page 9
