by Sadie Conall
The half crescent of the moon lay low in a brilliant cloudless sky, giving enough light to see out across that rolling country all around us. I could see the horses in the fields on the other side of the compound and the glitter of the moon on the surface of the river. Dawn was hours away yet and as I moved to return to bed and the large, comforting form of Ryder, I heard a man laughing. I moved quickly to the other window and peered out. There was no glass in any window this far west, so I could hear and see clearly enough.
The man was a Hŭŋkpapĥa elder, well into his winter years, sitting with a group of similarly aged men around the firepit. Unable to sleep in the heat, they were smoking long stemmed pipes, talking softly, laughing now and again, taking care not to wake anyone. I turned away from the window and glanced back towards the bed. Ryder was lying on his belly, the furs beneath him, breathing softly, deep in sleep. He was naked yet utterly beautiful, his wide shoulders tapering down to narrow hips and those long strong legs, every muscle now rested in sleep, yet I could see the strength of them beneath his bronzed skin.
I stood there for a long time taking pleasure in just watching him, remembering the strength of him earlier as he reared above me like some ancient god, intense and trembling with urgent male need and I licked my lips, remembering the heat of him, feeling my own passion rise at the memory, vivid and powerful. Closing my eyes to it, I moved to push my long hair up off my neck, allowing the blanket to fall around my arms as I stood there naked, feeling the slight breeze enter through the open shutter and stir the heat of the room. The soft murmur of the old men’s voices drifted back to me and I took comfort in knowing they were there, for we were surrounded by people we loved in this compound. Although that would change in a few short weeks when we left here to ride west, just Ryder, myself, the girls and the children.
Another cool breeze came in through the window and I felt the kiss of it against my hot skin, even as I thought of the vision I had had the day Loĉhín’míla died, the day Deinde'-paggwe appeared out of the woods and saved my life.
I often thought on that vision but not in any depth because I think I was afraid of it. Although it was always there, lingering in the back of my mind, but now it came racing in and I remembered the young man I had seen riding with the Bannock, a man who was young and strong and beautiful, who had looked like Ryder but was not Ryder. Had that been Harry as a grown man? He had been carrying a weapon unknown, a weapon that was like a musket yet not a musket. And Ese-ggwe’na’a had been riding beside him, an old man with long grey hair, yet still owning that strong lean body.
And Jimmy and Bryn sitting in the Gallery at Millbryne Park, talking in earnest to Ryder. Yet for what purpose? Was it for a business proposition? For I knew well enough that Ryder had the money and contacts to help them, but did this mean that Bryn and Jimmy had returned to live in England along with Lily? Or had Bryn’s dream of owning a horse ranch in the New World finally come true, with Jimmy and Ryder’s help? And then I remembered Ryder standing on a ship, no not a ship, some other strange vessel that blew black smoke from a chimney as though the vessel were on fire, as we stood at the rails laughing in the company of a young woman. Her hair had been the colour of my own, yet she was dressed in a strange fashion with hair tied up in unusual curls behind her head. She had been a beauty and as I thought on it, I had the most unusual feeling about her. But I wouldn’t think on that now. I didn’t dare. I lifted my arms, spreading my long thick hair out behind me, feeling afraid, for like all my other visions, they brought with them the truth. For that tall, evil man I had seen all those years ago standing in the woods had been none other than Thorne Benedict. And the soldier I had danced with in France had been Napoleon Bonaparte, with fields afire with war behind him. And the house I had seen by the ocean, with Ryder seated on a magnificent hunter before it, had been Millbryne Park.
“God, you look like an angel standing there,” he suddenly whispered, his voice husky with sleep and lust.
I opened my eyes and turned to him, allowing my hair to drop around my shoulders even as I pulled the blanket up to cover myself, as one of the men outside threw more wood on the fire, allowing the room to be lit with a soft warm glow. I hadn’t heard him wake, I had been so engrossed in remembering my vision.
“Come to me,” he whispered, holding out his hand and I didn’t hesitate but crawled back into bed with him, dropping the blanket as I moved into his arms, both shutters open to the cool night breeze and the soft murmur of old men’s voices.
Three
As they left Allard’s compound just after dawn, as the women and children started out on that five-mile walk to the Hŭŋkpapĥa village with the men riding on ahead, they could hear the drums beating out across the valley. But these celebrations had been going on for four days, the village waiting patiently for the men to return from their fasting.
Like all the other women, Madeleine carried furs and blankets and deer hides along with bags of dried smoked meat and fresh bread and corn cakes for the children to eat later, for the day ahead promised to be a long one. Although the air of excitement was palpable as they came closer to the village, as thousands gathered, along with people who had come from other villages to be part of it. And after a year of planning, this day had finally arrived. Although the men taking part in the Ceremony hadn’t yet arrived. They were still alone out in the wild after four days of fasting, preparing themselves for what lay ahead.
A special teepee has been raised for the Ceremony and several Chiefs sat before it, along with the village shaman. And although several logs burned in the central village firepit, the feasting would come later, for there would be no celebrations until the last man had fallen, until healers began to tend the terrible wounds on the men’s upper bodies.
Madeleine and the Bannock girls found a spot under a stand of cottonwood, some way back from the village square and closer to the river, for the day was hot and they had no desire to sit out in the open among the crowds of people. They spread the deer hides on the ground which they had borrowed from Ska’zica, their blankets and furs spread around them for the children to sleep on later. Ska’zica and her family were sitting with other Hŭŋkpapĥa family members in the square, but she would come by later and visit, bringing updates on what was happening. And as Harry and Kimana quietly played at the water’s edge, a feeling of anticipation slowly built within the crowd as word came at last, that the men were on their way.
*
There were four of them. And they looked gaunt after four days of fasting, their bodies showing signs of hunger and dehydration, yet they walked upright, their faces set and grim as they stood before the Ceremonial teepee. And at last there was silence, as the drums stopped their beat, as all conversation in the crowd ceased.
The men were officially welcomed by the village Chiefs, their previous feats of courage spoken of, the good names of their families mentioned, their bravery praised and offered up for the benefit of the people, so that everyone could take some of their courage as their own and then at last, they were led into the teepee. The drums began again, this time to a more urgent beat, but there were no screams nor grunts of pain from the teepee. And as the hours passed, as people talked softly, as children were fed and then slept as the day wore on, one by one the men came out of the ceremonial teepee to reveal their wounds and be revered by the crowds before taken away to be tended to by healers.
Yet Madeleine thought the men pale, the wounds on their upper chests a wretched thing to see and as the last man appeared the crowd cheered, even as he stumbled. As he was led away by his mentor to a healer, other men carried out the deer carcasses which were speared on ironwood frames above the hot coals of the central fire. Now the feasting would begin.
Madeleine’s mouth watered in hunger and as Harry climbed on her lap grizzling with hunger himself, she shared out the last of the strips of smoked venison and corn cakes to keep their hunger at bay until later.
As dusk began to settle Ryder and his brothers and Aishi
-waahni’ came and joined them by the river, the beat of drums continuing to lift out across the hills, competing with the rise and fall of laughter and hum of people talking. When the feast was ready, they ate their fill of roasted meat and squash and corn and fried bread along with everyone else, eating by the river’s edge as the sun set and the stars appeared in a cloudless sky. And when the drums started up again some time later, as the men who had taken part in the Ceremony came out to dance victorious around the fire, their wounds dressed, strong potions swallowed to take the edge off their pain, the crowd soaked up their energy like a visceral thing and a feeling of euphoria settled over everyone.
When boys around Harry’s age who lived at Allard’s compound came looking for him, to take him away to play, Ryder and Madeleine let him go. They saw no harm in letting him run wild tonight.
And later, when women were invited to get up and dance, Poongatse and Deinde'-paggwe ran giggling towards the central fire, taking Kimana with them, joining the scores of other women already dancing in a circle around the flames.
Te’tukhe remained quite happily beside Wannge’e, but Wesa'shangke and Aishi-waahni’ became bored and left to find Allard and his sons for more stimulating company. Madeleine and Ryder walked with them as far as the main square, but here they parted ways. There were so many people milling around, some still eating, some standing and watching the women dance, others in large family groups talking and laughing. They saw Harry and his little friends running and weaving their way through the crowds, their son screaming as loudly as the rest of them, his voice unheard over the beat of the drums and the pitch of hundreds of conversations and people shouting out to each other. His sturdy little legs pumped beneath him as he ran, his moccasins caked in dirt and splatters of food for Madeleine saw he held another piece of fried bread in his hand. His buckskin shirt and pants were also covered in dust, as though he had been rolling on the ground and his hair flowed long and wild behind him as he ran, screaming like a banshee. Ryder and Madeleine laughed aloud as they watched him.
“That’s your son,” Ryder said, as the boy turned with his friends and ran back through the crowds.
Madeleine laughed. “I can imagine that’s exactly what you looked like as a child running wild in the Wazhazhe village,” she said.
Ryder smiled and reached for her hand and brought it to his lips before leading her away into the night. And then they were laughing from the sheer joy of escaping everyone as they left the light of the fires behind and the thousands of people to climb a slight rise and find shelter within some rocks. They climbed down into them, pulling at each other’s clothes, desperate to touch, to taste, to feel. Madeleine couldn’t get close enough to him. And they loved each other there in the privacy of the night with only the light of the moon and stars above them, the noise of the village thudding and alive behind them as the drums continued to send their beat out in time to that ancient of dances Madeleine and Ryder shared in that rocky shelter.
*
The men were invited to stay with the Hŭŋkpapĥa for another four days. Madeleine didn’t see the harm in it. Let the brothers have their time together, for it would be over soon enough.
But Wannge’e wasn’t pleased to hear Te’tukhe had accepted the Hŭŋkpapĥa invitation to stay. She thought he should be with her and she took his refusal to accompany her back to the compound as a personal slight. Madeleine tried to explain that Te’tukhe had no choice, he had to stay, but the fifteen-year old girl, with little knowledge of men and their ways, didn’t understand.
“Not only would the Hŭŋkpapĥa think less of him were he to meekly follow his woman home, but so would all his family. You put Te’tukhe in an impossible situation Wannge’e, asking him to return with you. He cannot do it. He cannot leave.”
So she returned with the women to the compound alone but as it turned out, those four days without the men allowed the women to spend their days in the pursuit of pleasure. And even Wannge’e came to see the benefits of it. They sat together under the trees in large groups curing hides, making jewellery and Madeleine exchanged several grouse she caught for some fragile silver threads which Ska’zica owed. And using a tiny bone needle, the Hŭŋkpapĥa woman threaded the silver through the lobes of Madeleine’s ears, for they had been pierced by Paddake’e many years ago. Madeleine also made herself a necklace and several bracelets during those four lazy days, piercing dozens of seeds she collected off the forest floor and dying them in different colours using grape seed, fire ash and pokeberries before stringing them together with sinew. And she even decorated the silver threads hanging from her ears with some of the dyed seeds and feathers from one of the grouse, sewing them tightly with sinew.
When the men returned, daily chores resumed, with everyone settling back into a routine. But it was during those last few weeks at the Hŭŋkpapĥa village that Madeleine saw a hint of the beauty emerge that Deinde'-paggwe had once owned. She lost the dark shadows around her eyes as she began to sleep through the night, feeling safe and protected by people who loved her. And the gauntness of her young face began to fill out with good food, the scars on her body taken during her life with Loĉhín’míla and her months on the run slowly began to heal and fade away.
But Wannge’e also changed during that glorious month of long, hot summer days. Her belly continued to swell as she ate anything placed in front of her and her face took on a bloom, even though she knew her days with Te’tukhe were coming to an end.
For as June moved into July, Madeleine felt the shift in energies as Wesa'shangke and Aishi-waahni’ began to talk of making their way south. And she found herself going through their belongings, discarding what was worn and ragged and planning how to replace it. The Bannock girls did the same. Although Poongatse and Wannge’e had made good use of their weeks at the Lemoine compound, using all the furs they had cured, caught in their snares since the days they lived on the Corrigan ranch and their journey north to the Hŭŋkpapĥa. Using sinew and bone needles, they made baby clothes for Wannge’e’s child. They made new moccasins for themselves along with fur jackets for both Deinde'-paggwe and Kimana. And when Deinde'-paggwe finally discarded her worn coat, she took it to Madeleine.
“You gave this to me before you left the Snake River Plain all those years ago. Do you remember?”
Madeleine nodded, reaching out to touch the worn garment. Yes, she remembered it, for she had made the coat herself more than nine years ago. The furs had come from small animals taken in her own snares. She had cured them herself and with Paddake’e’s help had sewn the pieces together to make this garment. It had kept her warm during those bitterly cold mountain winters, but when she left the Snake River Plain with Ryder in the spring of 1800, having no use for a heavy fur coat, she had gifted it to Deinde'-paggwe.
“I think it’s more than proved its worth my darling girl, so time to let it go. The fur is too mattered and worn to patch it with new furs. Let Allard’s dogs have it. And take the new coat offered by Poongatse and Wannge’e and enjoy it. They want you to have it.”
When she told Ryder about Poongatse and Wannge’e’s gift of the coat, he asked what gifts they could give Allard and his family for their weeks of hospitality. And after several days discussion on it, they decided to gift Allard the duelling pistols Madeleine had purchased for Ese-ggwe’na’a. It was Ryder who said the pistols would be of little use to the Bannock chief.
“He needs shot and powder to use them. Ese-ggwe’na’a would make better use of the dagger Madeleine, the one you traded with the Pawnee. Let Allard have the pistols. He is well used to them and would value the bullet moulds and extra flints.”
Madeleine agreed and in truth the dagger was a stunning weapon. It lay in a leather scabbard with metal studs piercing the centre of it, the sides covered in detailed filigree. The blade itself was nearly a foot long, the hilt and pommel another five inches. The fleur-de-lis had been chiselled into the metal, as well as the hilt and steel guard and the grip had been made of twisted iron wir
e wrap. And as she held it, feeling the weight of it, she knew it was a better gift for Ese-ggwe’na’a. Up in the high country of the Snake River Plain, there would be little need for duelling pistols or bullet moulds.
They decided to gift Ska’zica one of the hand mirrors Madeleine had purchased for Paddake’e, along with a bag of crystal beads and gold buttons for all of these could be shared with the women of the compound.
But if any of them were loath to put a date on their leaving, it came to a head late one evening as they sat around the firepit, having feasted on venison with wild onions and carrots and turnips and bread. And it was Aishi-waahni’ who raised the subject and when it came at last, it was almost a relief to speak of it. As he began to talk of the route he would take to head back to his own village, the murmur of conversation died away. Madeleine could feel Allard’s disappointment, for he had done his best to persuade them to stay for the winter.
“We’ll ride south through Cheyenne lands for they are friendly enough with the Lakota, then into Arapaho country before Kiowa and Comanche territory. I’m hoping it will take no more than four months, five at the most, before we reach my village.”
Madeleine felt Ryder tense beside her and she dared to look at him. A flash of something crossed his rugged features and she saw his beautiful mouth harden. With disappointment perhaps, that this had finally arrived, along with something that might be called loss. It was Allard who asked the question that no-one else had the courage to ask.
“When do you plan to leave?”
The Comanche glanced across at Wesa'shangke but the younger more affable Ugákhpa brother shrugged, unwilling to put a date on it. So Aishi-waahni’ did it for him. “Three days. No more.”
Ryder said nothing, just looked down at the pipe in his hands yet Madeleine felt his grief, a deep palpable thing of endings.
