by Sadie Conall
And then Wakanta spoke up, surprising everyone by his request. “Would you accept another travelling companion? For I have a hunger to visit the Comanche and meet my father’s brother, although I understand Sébastien is not well. But I’ve thought on making this journey for some time and have often spoken of it to Allard, so I would grateful for the opportunity to join you.”
Everyone stared at him, stunned by this, and Madeleine felt the sudden awkwardness around the firepit. She wondered why Wakanta hadn’t asked this question of Wesa'shangke and Aishi-waahni’ in private. Although she knew why, as did everyone else, for they would have refused him, because Wakanta was difficult, whereas the Comanche and Ugákhpa, although cousins, were as close as brothers.
Aishi-waahni’ nodded, yet there was a reluctance to his words. “Of course cousin, you will be welcome. I’m sure Sébastien will be pleased to meet you.”
No-one looked at Te’tukhe, but now he must choose between Wannge’e and his unborn child, or life with the Comanche. Wannge’e said nothing. She simply bowed her head and waited for the inevitable. And Madeleine hoped for the girl’s sake that she was prepared for this. To love a man like she loved Te’tukhe was a lifelong thing. It wasn’t a fling, over within months and onto another love. What she felt for Te’tukhe was real and intense and dangerous.
Wesa'shangke, in his usual affable manner eased the sudden tension around the fire by glancing across at Ryder and smiling, his voice that same deep baritone owned by his brothers. “So Mi'wasa, soon we must part ways, but not forever I think. Who knows where our paths might cross, perhaps we may see you once again at the Comanche, along with Esa-mogo'ne’ and your son.”
Ryder nodded, holding Wesa'shangke’s gaze, remembering those long-ago days, more than eight years in fact, when he arrived at the Wazhazhe village in the summer of 1797 hoping to meet Hubert Lemoine but meeting his brothers instead, grown into men after an absence of almost twenty years. They had travelled together for some two years, riding first to the Comanche to meet Sébastien before heading north to the Shoshone, where he met esa and then Madeleine.
Ryder didn’t look at Te’tukhe, for to do so would have been asking him to declare himself and now wasn’t the time. Not in front of Wannge’e and all these people, for that would have been unfair to her. But then he turned, as did everyone else, hearing the words come from Wakanta, along with the challenge in his voice. Whether he meant to force Te’tukhe’s hand was difficult to know, but Ryder doubted anyone sitting around that firepit respected Wakanta for it.
“And what of you brother? Will you leave with us?”
There was another awkward silence. And when Madeleine and Ryder spoke of it later, they wondered if this question spoken aloud without thought or consideration for Wannge’e’s feelings changed Te’tukhe’s mind about his plans. Although Ryder thought not, knowing Te’tukhe would have already made his decision, for he was not a man to plan his future on the careless words of another.
Although Madeleine saw the flare of anger in Te’tukhe’s eyes as he looked across at his step-brother. He said nothing for a long moment then when he spoke, Madeleine heard the words that broke her heart, words that brought devastation to a young girl carrying his babe, words that brought Ryder pain.
“Yes brother, you know full well I would like to head south with you, for I look forward to seeing my uncle and my cousins and the Comanche people,” he paused, glancing at Wesa'shangke as everyone watched him.
Everyone except Wannge’e. She remained sitting with her head bowed, her hands in her lap, waiting for what seemed inevitable and it was obvious to everyone there that Te’tukhe hadn’t discussed his decision with her. He paused for another long moment as though searching for the right words and then at last, he looked back at Wakanta.
“But in truth brother, I know in my heart I’ll never settle in those warm southern lands for I’ve taken a liking to this northern country. Although I doubt I’ll ever enjoy the winters,” he smiled and turned to look at Allard Lemoine and if anyone ever doubted the close bond these two men shared, they saw it now in the look that passed between them. “So then, if my cousin Allard and his family will have me, I would very much like to return to live here one day, for I think I could make a good life for myself in this territory,” he paused as Allard and his Hŭŋkpapĥa family nodded agreement, well pleased with this.
“However, I also know I am my father’s son, for like Hubert I have a love of freedom, of living in the wild,” Te’tukhe continued. “But I think it’s a need that can never be filled, for I also acknowledge I’m getting older and to my profound astonishment I’ve found something I never thought I would ever have,” he paused and looked at Wannge’e who turned to look at him in dismay.
“A family of my own. With a girl who accepts me for who I am along with all my faults, who now carries my child. So for now at least, because I cannot bear to be apart from her or indeed, what lies ahead for us, my destiny lies west,” he turned and looked at Wannge’e, aware of the astonishment on her face, before he glanced across at Ryder and Madeleine.
“If you will have me, I would very much like to accompany you west to the Snake River Plain and the village of the Bannock.”
There was utter silence for a moment as everyone sat in shock, for no-one was expecting this. Then Ryder stood up to embrace him, as Poongatse reached out to put an arm about Wannge’e’s shoulders. And then Wesa'shangke and Aishi-waahni’ stood up to also embrace Te’tukhe.
“Your decision is made then cousin,” Aishi-waahni’ said. “But perhaps one day, your wandering ways will send you south to my village.”
Te’tukhe laughed. “Perhaps, we shall see.”
*
The morning Wesa'shangke, Wakanta and Aishi-waahni’ rode away from the Lemoine compound, the sky was an azure blue with just a breath of wind to cool the heat of the summer’s day. The men wore vests and breechclouts, for it was too warm for buckskin pants and shirts. Behind their saddles were smoked strips of venison, for Ryder and the Lemoine men had gone out hunting during the past few days, bringing back several deer carcasses as a gift to Allard’s sons.
And in exchange for the gifts Ryder and Madeleine gave Allard and Ska’zica, the Lemoine family surprised them with the gift of four puppies, all taken from different litters and all of them wolf dogs, the breed preferred by most tribes. The Hŭŋkpapĥa elder in charge of the dogs, had weaned them especially for them to take west.
Madeleine heard Ryder leave their bed early that morning, well before dawn. Yet he had been restless all night and when he dressed quietly and crawled from the teepee, she knew he was going to meet Te’tukhe and spent the few short hours they had left with Wesa'shangke and Aishi-waahni’.
But now, as Wesa'shangke and Wakanta and Aishi-waahni’ prepared to ride out, a packhorse behind each man, traded with Allard, the whole of the Lemoine compound gathered to bid them farewell.
Wesa'shangke hugged Harry to him, speaking to him in the Wazhazhe dialect and Harry replied in the same language. Then Aishi-waahni said goodbye to the little boy in the Comanche language and Harry also replied in that language for it was similar to the bannaite’ dialect.
But when they reached out to hug Madeleine goodbye, she couldn’t stop the tears. She loved these men like they were her own brothers. When it came time to bid Ryder and Te’tukhe goodbye, Madeleine stood back, moving to stand with the Bannock girls, allowing the men privacy for this was something she couldn’t share with Ryder. Perhaps later, when they were alone, but not here.
And then they were mounting their horses and kicking them on, bidding farewell one last time to all who were gathered and amidst cries of farewell and safe travelling, they headed for the woods way in the distance. And only when they reached the trees did they turn back, raising a fist and letting out their own shrill cries of goodbye.
And only then did Harry truly understand that they were leaving and distressed, he began to cry. Ryder bent down and swept his son into his arms, s
winging him up to sit the child on his shoulders, before letting out his own shrill cry of farewell. And only when the three men had disappeared into the woods did Madeleine move towards Ryder and Harry. She put an arm about Ryder’s waist and leaned into him, reaching up to place a hand on Harry’s leg as the little boy clung to his father’s head, his fingers splayed over Ryder’s forehead.
Te’tukhe said nothing, just stood in silence and watched until the men disappeared, then he glanced back at Wannge’e and smiled.
in the wild: August 1805
Ryder watched as Madeleine and Harry and Kimana sat barefoot in the long grass eating wild blueberries. Madeleine sat crosslegged, wearing a knee length buckskin shift to keep cool in the heat of the summer’s day. Her legs and arms were tanned and muscular from months of living outdoors and the children sat naked beside her, save for loincloths. Ryder watched them, mesmerized by their beauty, even as the four wolf dogs played beside them.
Today was Harry’s fourth birthday. And the child was fast becoming his own little man. He was no longer a toddler but a child eager to be away from his mother’s embrace. He was a dusky golden brown from the summer sun, for he had inherited Ryder’s olive skin. But the child also owned a strong mind and body, with a quiet determination and stubbornness which gave Ryder some pleasure. Although Madeleine saw no benefit in stubbornness.
The boy was laughing, his blue Benedict eyes lit with mischief as his little hands stuffed his mouth with the soft, ripe berries. Madeleine was trying to stop him eating so much at once, knowing the belly ache the child would suffer later, but the strong-willed boy pushed her away, falling onto the grass as he tried to escape her grip. Madeleine crawled after him and as they rolled together, the boy kicking and screaming with laughter, determined to keep his berries, Ryder moved quickly, swooping down to pick the child up and carrying him down to the water’s edge to wash his hands and mouth, stained with the rich blue juice. Madeleine laughed and sat up, watching as Harry kicked his legs in defiance yet unable to escape his father’s grasp, the sounds of his screams disturbing the quiet of the afternoon.
It was a brilliant summer’s day, the scents of herbs and wildflowers and pine and sage all around them. Off to the west, outlined against the deep blue of the sky lay a vast range of mountains, the sharp crispness of the day giving the illusion that they were closer than they were, including the lower ranges and sweeping foothills covered in forests of ponderosa pine, fir, aspen and maple.
Madeleine turned and looked for Deinde'-paggwe and Poongatse, but they were out of sight further along the lake front checking snares which they had laid down at dusk the previous night, not long after setting up this camp.
When they came upon this lovely spot it had been Ryder who suggested they stop for two days, not only to rest but to replenish their supplies before pushing on, with just two more months of hard riding ahead of them. Madeleine looked out across the lake, the water a deep blue turquoise colour, the water at the lake edge so clear the water itself seemed invisible. She put her hands above her eyes, shading them against the brightness of the day to look across to the far side of the lake, a quarter mile away or more, to the cottonwood, poplar and beech that lined its banks. But there was no-one around. It seemed they had this beautiful place all to themselves.
Te’tukhe and Wannge’e had ridden out of camp several hours ago, the girl sitting side saddle before him. They had both taken their bows and arrows to hunt, although Madeleine knew as did everyone else that it was just an excuse for the couple to spend time alone. And she didn’t begrudge them that, nor did anyone else. She could remember well enough in the early days of her relationship with Ryder when they couldn’t bear to be apart, when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other and she saw that same hunger in Te’tukhe and Wannge’e’s eyes.
Because of it, she had gifted the smaller teepee to Wannge’e to keep as her own. For even though it had been Wannge’e’s musket which the Omaha had traded for the teepee, it had been Madeleine who purchased the musket in St Louis. Ryder had agreed to her giving the teepee to Wannge’e, although Madeleine wondered if he had an ulterior motive to do so. For if Te’tukhe were happy, then he and Wannge’e might stay with the Bannock indefinitely, perhaps even as long as he and Madeleine planned to stay. Madeleine hoped so. Selfish perhaps, but she couldn’t bear to see them go.
She glanced back at Ryder and their son and couldn’t help but admire them as they played at the water’s edge. Because of the loincloth, Ryder’s naked buttocks could be seen beneath the leather, the skin there tanned from the sun just like the rest of him.
She turned as Kimana stood up and came across to her. The little girl had filled out since those days when Hanyewi’winyan first brought her to their camp. Her skin and hair were glowing with good health, just like her mother’s and although Kimana still didn’t talk much, she could understand most of what they said, for they only spoke in the Bannock dialect now.
Madeleine held out her arms and the child went to her and although not yet two years old, there was still something vulnerable about Kimana that tugged at Madeleine’s heart. She lifted her up and carried her down to the lake’s edge to join Harry and Ryder, the water so clear she could see every pebble on the lake’s floor before it fell away into depths unknown.
As the children played in the shallow depths, she spoke with Ryder of the days ahead, both aware that the cooler temperatures of autumn would arrive in this high country within a few short weeks. Although they had had an easy time of it since leaving the Hŭŋkpapĥa behind seven weeks ago, for other than a distant sighting of some Blackfeet and Crow while travelling along the borders of Crow, Gros Ventre and Blackfeet country, they hadn’t seen anyone else. Although they’d done their best to stay under cover of trees as much as possible, avoiding the open grasslands on the advice of the Hŭŋkpapĥa chiefs, for these three tribes were known for their aggression.
Madeleine turned and glanced at the small private cove not twenty feet away where she had lain with Ryder in the dark last night. It had been a night of sweetness which began after everyone fell asleep, when Ryder took her hand and led her out of their teepee and down to the cove which he had discovered earlier. They had swum naked in the dull light of the quarter moon to cool down from the heat of the night, before lying together in the deep, lush summer grass.
Giggles from Kimana broke Madeleine’s thoughts and she looked down at the child as Ryder reached out and pulled her back into the shallows. It wasn’t often the child laughed for she lived mostly in silence although she wasn’t mute, she could hear well enough and her voice, when she used it, was strong. But as Madeleine watched the child splashing alongside Harry, a tall robust little boy, the girl seemed small and fragile in comparison.
Ryder reached for Madeleine’s hand and brought it to his lips, closing his eyes in contentment to the familiar scent of her, of wild things, of flowers and pine, sage and wood smoke along with a woman’s musk, all mixed to fill his senses and drive him mad with desire as she leaned into him. She turned to meet his gaze, her eyes lingering on his own.
“Are you happy halfbreed?” she asked softly and he nodded.
“Haa. But join me in the cove tonight and I’ll be happier still,” he whispered and kissed her, but the sudden snort of a horse pulled them apart. They turned and saw Te’tukhe less than half a mile away, riding through the trees with Wannge’e perched before him riding side-saddle. She was swollen with pregnancy now yet she looked well enough, her face soft with contentment as she leaned back into the man behind her.
“Do you think she’ll make it to the Bannock before her time?” Ryder asked, as Madeleine turned to look at him, tracing the line of his face with her eyes.
“I hope so, halfbreed,” she whispered.
Snake River Plain: October 1805
One
Vast mountain ranges reared above the Plain, their peaks covered in thick virgin snow although the dense evergreen forests which swept across their foothills la
y free of it for now. The Snake River, a glorious thread of silver in that late afternoon light, wound its way east to west as it had done for centuries before meeting up with the mighty Columbia River way in the north. South of the river lay green fertile land which bordered dense forests of pine, fir, aspen and spruce, yet north of the river was a brutal unforgiving country of rock which rose to meet those soaring mountain ranges.
Yet the Plain lay empty and silent. No village lay before them. There was no scent of horses or manure, nor of camp fires or meat smoking over hickory fires. Te’tukhe glanced at Ryder and saw the dismay on his rugged features. Madeleine looked pale, but she knew already, Te’tukhe was sure of it. The girls looked uneasy, yet being young, being desperate to see their families, they still dared to hope. But like Ryder and Madeleine, Te’tukhe knew better.
There was no-one around for miles. They should have come across scouting parties, or hunters, weeks ago but they had remained alone.
They had dismounted on this high ridge to look down on the Plain, while still some miles east of it. Yet as they gazed down on that wide deep valley far below them, as the Snake River wound through that country they knew so well, they all saw the land between the river and the forest lay empty, land where teepees were usually raised, for that was the winter home of the Bannock.
It was Madeleine who had called for a halt when they arrived at this point on the ridge, for it allowed them a clear view of the Snake River Plain far below. Now she regretted it, for she could see quite clearly what everyone else could see, although no-one said it aloud. But the Plain lay empty.
She glanced across at Wannge’e, aware of the girl’s fatigue for she had been struggling along for hours, although she had uttered not one word of complaint. She had stopped riding weeks ago, finding it too uncomfortable, so either walked or sat on one of the travois, along with Harry and Kimana. As she moved to sit on a large boulder, her face grey with fatigue, Madeleine wondered if the girl had got her dates wrong. It wasn’t her time yet. By the girl’s reckoning she had another two months to go before the babe came. Yet by all accounts, she looked ready to give birth any day.
