by H L Grandin
His fists clenched and his jaw tightened with the realization that circumstances had conspired to spiral his life out of control and strip away from him the independence and self-reliance that had defined him as a man. Like a flock of doves whose course is determined by the prevailing winds, his destiny was being determined by the unpredictable villainy of a single man determined to do him harm.
How is it that everything that has come to pass has been so closely linked to Seven Arrows? Why were his brothers among the warriors chasing me and Sunlei on Old Mount Rag? Why was it my camp that Seven Arrows stumbled upon on that gray cold morning along the Rapidan? Why is it me, so in tune with the ways of the natural world, being inexorably guided down this destructive path that will only end in heartache, loneliness, and despair?
He stood, raised his arms to the heavens, and released an anguished cry that filled the mountain tops, echoed off of the canyon walls, and descended into the village as a melancholy pall foreshadowing the events to come.
Tyoga listened to his own voice die away as it was consumed by distance, time, and indifferent dismissal. When there was nothing left but the sound of the whispering wind in the pines, he dropped his arms to his side and bowed his head in dismay. He stood for a long time. When he sat back down, he found that Wahaya was no longer lying down, but was sitting erect and looking up at the moon. Tyoga reached out to reconnect with the primal energy of the wolf.
Sitting side by side, the wolf was a full head taller than Tyoga.
He dropped his hand into his lap, looked up at the wolf, and said, “Wahaya-Wacon. What more do you know? Tell me what to do.”
Wahaya-Wacon stopped gazing up at the moon, and looked down into Tyoga’s eyes. The power of his stare startled Tyoga for a moment, but the calm of the quiet knowing transcended the wolf’s momentary position of dominance and command. His eyes stayed riveted to the wolf’s golden-brown eyes. Falling ever deeper into the abyss, he surrendered to their spell as the warmth of knowing washed his senses free and cleansed the confusion that muddles reason and paralyzes action in the chains of second guesses.
Tyoga closed his eyes and heard a whisper in a voice so tranquil that he knew it wasn’t his own say. “You know what to do. We will not let this stand. Together, we will find a way.”
With his head still cocked toward the heavens, he heard his own voice say out loud, “I know what to do. This time—the ‘why’ matters. This time—the answer makes a difference.”
With his eyes still closed, he reached out to touch Wahaya.
He opened his eyes to see his hand flailing in the blackness of the night.
Wahaya was gone.
Sitting alone on the outcropping, Tyoga shook his head and said, “I know.”
Chapter 28
Farewell, My Love
The outcropping upon which Tyoga had made his camp was about a half mile to the southeast—and a quarter mile straight up—from the site Seven Arrows and his band of Shawnee Braves had chosen for their campsite. They had set up camp within earshot of the village because they wanted the People to hear their jubilation at the horror they were to visit upon them in three days time.
When they heard Tyoga’s anguished scream in the night, they looked up toward the outcropping and began to joke with one another saying that the cry was probably Tyoga making love to Sunlei for the last time. That they could make light of such a thing days before they were to take Sunlei away from the only home she had ever known laid bare their cold, callused hearts.
The agonizing thought that she would be separated from her family and friends, perhaps forever, was of no concern to Seven Arrows. What filled his spirit with a soaring joy was the knowledge that she would be torn from the arms of his unconquerable adversary, Tyoga Weathersby. She was the most beautiful woman in all of Appalachia, and she was to spend the rest of her days pleasuring him in ways that only Tyoga had known.
It was a tremendous coup for Seven Arrows and the Shawnee. He was going to relish every moment.
The whiskey Seven Arrows and his party had traded for with some French trappers they met along the way to Tuckareegee was taking its toll on their judgement and behavior. With whiskey-induced bravado, one of the braves screamed into the night, “Sunlei, we have brought many gifts for you.”
As laughter and war cries echoed from their campsite in the valley below the village, Seven Arrow’s voice could be heard above the rest, “Don’t be sad, my Little One, soon you will know the joys of a real man being inside of you. I hope you are saving yourself for me. I do not wish you to be covered with the stench of that dog-man Tyoga Weathersby.”
At this, one of the braves fired a rifle shot into the air and the war cries and screams reached a fever pitch.
“Maybe you do not wish to wait to begin your new life as a Shawnee squaw,” another voice screamed. “Maybe we will come and take you now.” Another rifle shot shattered the night air.
The icy howl of the wolf descended from the mountains and engulfed the partying band of Shawnee braves with a sombering dispatch. The sound was not terrifying in the way that it had paralyzed Seven Arrows at the campsite at the confluence. This call did not penetrate their bodies with a quaking resonance borne of proximity and mass. This call was hauntingly plaintive and eerily prescient.
While the first howl’s echo was dying in the distance, the second crescendoed through the night blanketing the Shawnee’s camp with a decree that ordered quiet and demanded peace. The Shawnee looked up from the valley floor toward the Ani-Unwiya village. Their eyes were drawn farther up the mountainside to the billowing flames from the outcropping where Tyoga had made his camp. Without saying a word, they put down their weapons, corked the whiskey bottle, and gathered quietly around their fire.
At the sound of the doleful howl, Tes Qua and Sunlei stepped outside of their family’s lodge into the cool night air. They, too, gazed up at the overlook where Tyoga’s fire lit up the night sky. It was a clear night and the heavens were filled with stars and a smiling crescent moon bejeweled the northern sky.
Tes Qua put his arm around his sister and held her close to him.“Wahaya-Wacon is up there with Tyoga, isn’t he, Tes A?”
“They are never far apart, Little One,” he replied. “I suspect that they are together now.”
“Will you take me to him, Tes?” Sunlei peered up into her brother’s tired eyes.
“Are you sure that you want to go, Sunlei?” her brother asked. “Tyoga has separated himself from the village for a reason. Do you think that it is the right thing to do?”
“I know why he has stayed away. I understand.” Sunlei was rolling a small stone on the ground with the toes of her left foot. She threw her gaze toward the fire lighting the tall pines that framed the outcropping. “Tes A, Tyoga told me that he will be leaving before the Shawnee take me away. Maybe he will leave tomorrow morning. This may be the last night that we will ever have the chance to be together. Take me there, my brother. Please.”
It was only about an hour’s climb to Tyoga’s campsite, but the trail was steep and traveling in the dark slowed them down. It took them about two hours to reach the outcropping.
As they approached the camp they could see Tyoga, wrapped in a buffalo robe, seated alone by the fire. When he saw them approach, he sprang to his feet and raced toward Sunlei.
Bounding toward him with unbridled emotion that erupted into squeals of delight, she threw herself into the air to land in the embrace of his loving arms. Burying her face into his chest and neck she cried and laughed uncontrollably while he smothered her head and face with hard kisses of impassioned urgency that knew no bounds. With a yearning more demanding than expressed by a kiss, she wrapped her legs around his waist and painted his neck and chin and cheeks with her mouth and lips as if tasting his manhood would extinguish her need.
Consuming her scent, he inhaled the heady musk from her hair and savored the sweet salty sweat from her brow filling his senses with her carnal bouquet. He held her so tightly that she
could barely breathe and still she was not close enough.
Placing her feet on the ground, she gazed deeply into the eyes of the only man she had ever loved. She examined his face the way a mother lovingly searches her child’s countenance for nuanced truth. She smiled at his futile attempt to conceal himself from her, and seared his image into her brain.
She had stopped crying and her eyes reflected the stars and the image of the crescent moon.
Without saying a word, she took Tyoga by the hand and led him toward the shelter. She stopped to allow Tyoga to pull the hide flap aside before she stepped in.
Tyoga turned to Tes Qua, nodded, and followed her inside.
Tes Qua went back to the lodge alone. It was after midnight when Sunlei rolled out of Tyoga’s arms to spoon in his loving embrace. Naked, warm and satisfied, she listened to him breathing for several minutes before giving him the lover’s nudge and asking, “Are you awake?”
Tyoga took a deep breath and responded, “I am now. What is it, Little One.”
“My cousin, Walks Alone, is coming to see me.”
“Walks Alone is coming here?” Tyoga asked propping himself up on his elbow.
“Yes. He wants to see me before …” She did not finish her thought.
“That’s great news,” Tyoga replied.
Sunlei rolled over so that she was facing him. “Great news?”
“We haven’t seen Walks Alone for a long time and it will be good to see him again.”
Sunlei wondered at his enthisiasm for reconnecting with Walks Alone, but other matters were more pressing so she left it alone.
“Sunlei,” Tyoga said, “stay with me until he gets here.”
“I should be with my family, Ty,” Sunlei replied, but quickly added, “but I want to stay here with you. I just can’t stand staying in my father’s lodge listening to those Shawnee dogs camped below.” She paused for a moment, rolled on her back and gazed up at the ceiling of the lean-to. “Yes,” she replied. “Yes, I will stay here with you.”
Tyoga rolled her into his arms and held her close to him for a long time. “We will move my camp today.”
“Why, Tyoga? Why do we need to move.”
“At the council I told the people of Tuchareegee that I would leave the mountains and never return. Now that we can stay together for two more days, I do not wish them to think that I have not kept my word. The People—and Seven Arrows—must think that I have left the mountains. They must not see my fire at night, or any movement during the day. It must be as if I have disappeared.”
“My brother will come to get me this morning,” Sunlei replied. “He can help us move.”
“Yes, Sunlei. Tes Qua can help. But no one else must know that I am here. Seven Arrows must think that he has driven me from the mountains and that he will never see me again. I will leave this place when he takes you away.”
“Okay, Ty, if you say so,” Sunlei said with some question in her voice.
Tyoga sat up and said, “Sunlei. This is important. He must think that I am already gone.”
“I understand,” she replied. “But you must promise to stay close until he takes me away. Will you promise me?”
“Yes, Little One. I will stay close.”
The sun had not risen yet when the two stood on the outcropping folded in each other’s arms. Their nakedness was wrapped against the cold in a bright red blanket.
Holding both of her hands in his, he looked into her eyes. “Dohiyi, tsigeyui (Peace, my love),” he whispered gently to her forehead.
Tyoga closed his eyes. The words he was about to speak would be as painful to hear as they were to say. “Sunlei, even though we have the next two days to be together, what I must say cannot wait.”
Pushing away from him, Sunlei asked, “What is it my love?”
“When Seven Arrows comes to take you away, I must remain out of sight. I will be watching, my love. But, whatever happens, I will not be able to make myself known. I want you to be strong, Little One. Always remember that even though distance and time may keep us apart, you are forever here.” He pointed to his heart. “And here.” He pointed to his head. “You take me with you wherever you go.”
Peering up into his eyes, she said, “You are my love and my life. I breathe with you all of your days. When you listen with the promise, you will hear my name in the whispering of the trees, in the song of the brook. My love is as the sun rising, warming you with each passing day. That I am forever yours is as true as time, and as unwavering as the mountains and the sky. You can never leave me.”
Tyoga pulled her to him and whispered in her ear, “Look.” He motioned with his head in the direction of a rocky ledge high above his campsite. Standing there was Wahaya-Wacon, neck extended, ears back, staring down at the Shawnee camp.
“I promise you, my little one, you will never be alone.”
Chapter 29
The Rebuke
Three days had passed since Seven Arrows and his band of braves had arrived to make camp near Tuckareegee. Their whiskey had run out, their food supplies were running low, and the men were tired and bored.
Finally, the day had arrived for which they had been waiting. The coup that they were about to deliver to Tyoga Weathersby put them in reasonably good spirits.
Although it was not to be his wedding day, it was to be the day when Seven Arrows would take Sunlei for the first time—and that was reason enough for celebration.
The men used the early morning hours to prepare themselves for their entrance into the village by donning their finest ceremonial attire. The braves who attended Seven Arrows dressed in their best buckskin vestments. The doeskin from which their fringed tunics and chaps were made was of a dark chestnut hue, which indicated that the skins had recently been cured and tanned. They painted their shaved heads a bright crimson red from the top of their foreheads to the nape of their necks. Their foreheads and the skin around and below their eyes was painted an ashen gray. The braves painted two vertical black stripes on their left cheeks. Necklaces made of glass beads, seed pods, shells, and bone adorned their necks, and bracelets of metal, leather and fur encircled their wrists. Each brave wore an anklet of bells on their left leg. Marching in step, the rhythmic cadence of the bells proved a reasonable musical accompaniment for the tiny band of men entering the village as conquerers collecting the spoils of war.
Seven Arrows was dressed in full Shawnee wedding attire. A beautiful full-length overcoat of beaver and fox fur covered a butter colored elk skin tunic with matching chaps. Long strips of leather fringe dyed brilliant gold, forest green, lavender, blue and peach lined the tunic’s sleeves. His leggings had no fringe, but were decorated with intricate beadwork from waist to mid-calf. His bearhide boots sported side welts trimmed with bobcat and coyote fur. Both of his ankles were collared with bells so that his lone belled foot striking the ground served as a solitary counterpoint to the downbeat of the groups marching procession:
CHING-ching-CHING-ching-CHING-ching.
Smiling and waving their arms while crying out in a joyous tone of voice, “Osiyo oginali, osiyo (Hello, friends),” the band of Shawnee braves paraded grandly into the village. Expecting a ceremonial reception accompanied by a formal welcome from Chief Silver Cloud himself, they marched into the village.
They were greeted by no one at all.
The People of Tuckareegee went about the business of their daily lives without acknowledging, or even looking at, Seven Arrows and his wedding party.
The deliberate shun wiped the smiles from the painted faces of the Shawnee braves, and their voices fell silent with a growing rage. The flagrant contempt being shown to Seven Arrows and his men was more than the Chief’s son could endure. Abandoning the cadence of their in-step knell, the bells dissolved into a discordant mockery of their ridiculous procession.
“Eh ya ho (Come),” he demanded of his men.
Advancing now at a much more determined pace, Seven Arrows quick-stepped his men to Chief Silver Cloud’s lo
dge. Pausing at the threshold, Seven Arrows made a motion as if to advance into the inner sanctum of the chief’s home. Wrestling with the urge to enter, Seven Arrows stopped short at the entranceway. To enter the Chief’s lodge unannounced was a breach of protocol of which even Seven Arrows was not prepared to stand accused.
He bellowed in a gruff, menacing voice, “Osiyo, Wiyuhi (Hello, Chief).”
When there was no response, he called out again. This time he abandoned the title of respect. “Silver Cloud. It is Seven Arrows. I have come for the daughter of Nine Moons, Sunlei-Awi.”
Many minutes of silence passed before Chief Silver Cloud’s wife, Wind Song, appeared at the door to the lodge.
The Shawnee braves looked at each other with wide-eyed disbelief. Seven Arrows took a step back at her sudden appearance at the doorway. To send a woman to conduct business with the son of a chief, even if casual in nature, was an insult of epic proportion.
Wind Song did not look up at Seven Arrows when she said, “You are too early. Sunlei is not here. You will have to wait.”
Seven Arrows did not reply. Unwilling to accept the slight, he remained standing at the door, and refused to budge until Chief Silver Cloud acknowledged his presence.
The mid-morning hours passed. The scent of venison, pork, and porridge filled the air when families enjoyed the breakfast meal. The sounds and smells teased the senses of Seven Arrows and his party of braves, while they remained standing stoically on the stoop of Silver Cloud’s lodge.
The midday hours filled the village square with the warming rays of the autumn sun.
People with business to conduct with Chief Silver Cloud entered his lodge while passing right through the Shawnee party without acknowledging their presence or even looking their way.
Still, Seven Arrows and his braves remained standing like sentinels to the court, posted at the entrance of the lodge. The passage of time did little to mitigate the horrific treatment they were being subjected to at the hands of the entire Ani-Unwiya tribe.
