From the corners of his keen eyes, Stalking Wolf saw Night Walker and Little Weasel exchange cunning grins and he perceived a suspicious undercurrent pass between them. Talk changed to other things as he took his turn in the game, but his observations were stored for later study.
During Kionee’s absence, Stalking Wolf missed his friend’s company. From furtive studies since his arrival, he noticed many things about the Hanueva customs and the mysterious tivas. They believed Atah was the creator of all things and He was the maker of the sacred Medicine Wheel and Great Arrow. They had been in this land since long before anyone could remember; they said their ancient ones were called Nahane, but he had never heard of such a tribe. They believed in and practiced peace, and fought only in self-defense. They buried their dead in the ground, in the “arms of Mother Earth,” not upon scaffolds. They did not observe a period of mourning, as they believed a person went to join Atah and those left behind should not be sad. They did not raid or take captives. They did not join outside their tribe or with those close to their family’s bloodline. They did not count coup, but they did have a special name for brave deeds called Btu-i-geeshi, and those who did them were praised and honored.
They did not decorate their horses or tipis with pictures and symbols of hunts and battles; only the father’s name was painted upon the entry flap. They did not harm animals or the land; they took only what they needed for survival. When left to themselves, they were happy and serene.
The tivas intrigued and mystified him. They did not possess or smoke pipes, even during ceremonies. They did not share sweat rituals for purification or bathe with the other hunters, or have mates and children. Surely, he reasoned, they had more purpose in life than only being their families’ Hunters-Guardians. What it was, he had not discovered.
On occasion, he had seen one or more tivas vanish for days into a special willow hut in the edge of the forest reserved just for that society to perform an unknown ritual. He had discovered the cult, the only one among them, had three tipis: a large one which seemed to be for society meetings and storing regalia; another large one where older tivas without families and youths-intraining lived; and the willow hut where solitary or small group rituals were held. It was evident no other tribe member—not even the chief, shaman, or parents—could enter any of those locations. A tall, solidly built man of great esteem and affection and dignity was their sole leader: the Tiva-Chu. The one called Regim was respected and loved in particular by Kionee. He already knew that Regim was the brother of Martay, so that close relationship was understandable. He had met others in Kionee’s extended family circle: Martay and Regim’s mother, Strong Rock’s parents and brother, Little Weasel, and their families. He liked all of them except the son of Four Deer, whom he could not trust or admire.
His scattered thoughts returned to the tivas. The society members were never without their faces painted or ceremonial masks. He reasoned that only that group knew what the others looked like without their guises since they had been taken into the society at age five. Even so, he and others knew which names and identities belonged to each of them, having learned their facial patterns and differences. Those in training lived in a special tipi with the elders and were trained by them and other tivas until the age of sixteen. He had seen two youths—about twelve and fourteen—being instructed. The tivas seemed to have the same powers as the other men; they met and voted with the council, which included all males over sixteen; they danced and sang with the others, but sat in a group during rituals and meetings. No one had told him and he must not ask why the tivas had such unusual laws to follow which the other men did not.
Since Kionee was a tiva, he wanted to know all about them. He could not understand why his friend appeared so doelike at times and so wolfish at others. Kionee could be calm, gentle, and open; then be excited, strong, fearless, and cunning. It was as if two people and spirits that were opposites lived inside the hunter’s body, as if Kionee possessed two faces—one real and hidden, and one spiritual and exposed.
* * *
Taysinga whispered to Stalking Wolf as she slowly passed him, “Follow me from camp. We must talk in secret. Let no one see you.”
Intrigued by the hunter’s serious tone and fearful expression, the Cheyenne obeyed. He left camp by another path, sneaked to Taysinga’s tracks, and followed them to a meeting place. While en route, he made certain no one saw him or was nearby.
“You must swear on your life and honor, Stalking Wolf, not to speak of what I will reveal.”
He witnessed how nervous the tiva was and how the man kept gazing around. “What troubles you, Taysinga?”
“Swear it or I will hold silent and go.”
Stalking Wolfs tawny gaze studied the tiva whose facial pattern was so unlike Kionee’s except for the black background. If he was going to solve this mystery, he had to promise his silence. “I swear on my life and honor never to betray you.” Unless you are evil.
“If you do so, I will die. Kionee will be shamed and punished. The vision which sent you here will be broken. Many will suffer. Friendship between our peoples will end. You will die or know defeat and dishonor. Without you and the Cheyenne, Bird Warriors will destroy us.”
Those claims took Stalking Wolf by surprise. “Your words will not leave my lips and head,” he vowed. “What secret is so large and powerful?”
10
TAYSINGA GLANCED IN ALL directions and listened to confirm they were alone before she spoke. “Tivas are chosen by Atah at five winters to be trained and to live their lives as Hunter-Guardians for their families. Few in all seasons past have left this sacred rank to have mates and children. To do so, a Chosen One must pass twenty-one summers and join only to a Hanueva who fulfills the four deeds of our law. To do otherwise is forbidden. You must not lure Kionee off the tiva path or many will suffer and die.”
Stalking Wolf stared at the hunter in bewilderment. This was not what he expected to hear and could not imagine how it applied to him. “I do not try to get Kionee to take a mate or follow me to my tribe or into battle. Kionee is needed by his family and people. I seek only to save Hanueva lives. He is my helper, for his skills and needs match mine. Uncloud your words.”
“You make Kionee think and feel strange things, forbidden things; that is wrong and perilous for Kionee and our people.”
“I do not force Kionee to ride with me. I do not pull him from his ways and laws and beliefs to follow mine. We are friends and companions on a sacred task. I do nothing to harm him or to lure him into evil.”
“It is not by your choice or plan. Strong forces are at work—good and evil ones. You must obey the good and defeat the bad. Come. Speak no more. Walk as silent as the coyote. Be as unseen as the air.”
Stalking Wolf was confused and curious, so he obeyed without question.
Taysinga led him to a place where water cascaded down a slick cliff and formed a basin before it escaped over little falls in stony crevices and traveled through the verdant forest to the river. Dense trees and vegetation concealed the location from view until one was upon it. Melting snow from the mountains fed the gushing stream; the noise of rushing water masked any sounds of their approach. Many large boulders and rocks encircled the hollow and guarded it against intrusion. Men and women washed in the river. Only tivas were allowed to use this site, and Taysinga had done so many times. She touched a finger to her lips to command silence, then signaled for stealth. She leaned toward Stalking Wolf and whispered into his ear, “Look, and you will understand the peril you can cause if you do not hold strong and true.”
The curious Cheyenne was careful as he used his fingers to part the branches enough to peer beyond them. His keen gaze took in the lovely setting. A beautiful woman stood in nature’s bowl with clear water to her knees as she bathed. Her body was slender and firm; her hips were rounded; her buttocks and thighs were taut; and her belly was flat. Her breasts were full and high, telling him she had borne and nursed no babies from them. Her flesh look
ed soft and sleek, even with the presence of tiny rising of chills from the cold water. Though she shuddered on occasion, discomfort did not encourage her to rush. Her black hair was soaked and shiny after many scrubbings, as was the dark fuzzy area between her thighs. Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted as she tossed handcupped water over her lovely face, and her neck and chest. Sun sparkled off the drops which missed and those which touched her skin. She squatted to rinse yucca soap from her arms, stomach, and hips. After she stood, she halted a moment to let the warm sun kiss her face and body. It was as if she savored the feel of the rays and water against her naked flesh, as if they were rare and cherished pleasures. “Is she real or a spirit?” he whispered.
“She is real. She is of my tribe. She is loved and respected among us.”
He wondered for a brief moment if the Hanueva was planning to offer him this arousing maiden in gratitude for his help. Surely not, as that went against their law about mating outside their tribe. He had never come across her since his arrival seventeen suns ago, yet, there was something oddly familiar about her. The winter camp was large and spread along the river for a lengthy distance, but he had wandered through it many times and had witnessed rituals and meetings. Where, he mused, had she been hiding? What did this beauty have to do with tivas, Kionee, and such odd warnings? Was this the female whom Kionee desired as a mate? If so, why was he to blame for arousing natural hungers, when she would entice any man who looked upon her to crave her for himself? “Why did you bring me here to spy on this woman? Who is she?” he asked.
“It is Kionee,” Taysinga whispered. “She has been in the Haukau during the blood flow season. She cleanses and purifies herself now to return home.”
Stalking Wolf rushed his widened gaze back to the alluring sight. His heart pounded. His jaw slackened and his mouth went agape. He seemed unable to move, to speak, or to pull his eyes from the incredible discovery. Kionee was a hee, a female…Her mask and garments concealed this exquisite creature. The person who had become his close friend and constant companion, who had battled three Crow with him on the sun they met, who had saved his life at great risk to her own, who had defeated five Crow alone, who had battled and slain a grizzly, who hunted with great skill, who was solely responsible for her family’s needs and protection…was a woman, was this heart-stealing woman?
The astonished warrior turned to ask more questions, but Taysinga was gone. He locked his gaze on Kionee as she walked to a flat-top rock and climbed upon it to dry herself. He recognized the possessions lying nearby: the beaded shirt and moccasins, the decorated medicine pouch, the browband with a buffalo hoofprint, the elkhandled knife, and the markings on her bow and quiver. He watched as she lay down on her back to flatten her breasts before she secured a wide strip of buckskin around herself to obscure those splendid mounds. She stood to don a breechclout, leggings, shirt, and moccasins. Now he understood why she slipped into the bushes to change clothes that day after rescuing him! He spied as she used a trade mirror to see herself as she replaced the concealing mask of nature’s paints; soon her beautiful female face was shielded. He realized she had done this task so many times that it was unnecessary to use her handmark as a pattern guide. He looked at it as she braided her shiny raven-black hair and realized she would have that entrapping symbol and perilous rank for life: Mask Of The Hunter-Guardian. As she gathered her things, he sneaked from the enlightening location. He could not risk being caught there, and he needed to find Taysinga for answers.
Many thoughts and observations flooded his mind as he made his way back to camp. Tivas were women; that was why they wore disguises and avoided people outside their tribe. That explained why he felt drawn to Kionee in strange and potent ways!
His racing mind sorted through the gathered facts in a hurry. No tiva he knew had a brother, so the “Chosen Ones” were reared—and lived—as needed sons. No doubt the oldest was selected for that so-called honor and forced to believe it was her duty. He could not imagine what it was like to take a five-year-old girl and “change” her into a boy, or how hard it was for that child to obey. If they became mates and mothers, enemies would guess their secret, as the hand markings would expose them. That explained why unions were discouraged…forbidden. By the time a girl took her sacred vows at sixteen, no doubt her mind was so washed clean of her birth role and was too filled and controlled by years of sacrificial teachings that she obeyed her assigned duty without question.
In his flurry of thought, it did not escape him that such women of skill and prowess would be craved as worthy captives, even as mates of men who found it a stimulating challenge to tame their wild spirits. There was also the danger of enemies attacking them without mercy, believing a female was a weaker fighter and would be an easy conquest. It was fortunate no tiva had been captured or slain body been taken. That could be why Kionee had fought the Crow with such daring and desperation when Sumba was killed. To give up that rank, he realized, would leave those affected families sonless, leave aging parents without providers and protectors; that was true in particular in Kionee’s life with a disabled father. She was trapped.
Stalking Wolf could not envision himself being made into a woman, by force or choice. Yet he knew the Crow had men among them who dressed and lived as females; the batee were respected and accepted, and their true sex was not kept secret. But the Hanueva were a smaller tribe and exposure could endanger them. He recalled he had never seen a tiva at a trade camp and realized they avoided other hunters on the grasslands; now he knew why they were so distant and mysterious.
A conclusion shot across his mind like a lightning bolt: Night Walker knew Kionee was a female! That was why the chiefs son was concerned about her riding alone with Stalking Wolf. Or was there more to the man’s feelings, he speculated, than envy and friendship? Had Night Walker ever witnessed the same revealing view of her as he had today? Did the chiefs son crave Kionee for himself and feared him as a rival for that goal?
When Stalking Wolf reached the edge of camp, he saw Taysinga mounting…her horse to go hunting or riding alone. He took a path to intercept the tiva a good distance from camp. “Why did you tell me such an important secret?” he questioned her immediately. “Did you fear if I learned it, I would be angry I ride with a female, and leave your people in danger?”
“Why does it matter if your helper is a woman? Kionee has proven her prowess matches yours. A man of honor and confidence would not care.”
“Do you wish me to be snared by her beauty and steal her?” he asked. He saw Taysinga’s gaze and expression fill with anxiety, then immeasurable fear. Had she suddenly realized she had made a terrible mistake with the revelation and envisioned tragic repercussions from it?
“No, you must not!” she implored. “It would cause much trouble and endanger us. My people would turn against you and the Cheyenne; they would send fighters to battle for her return. We need the help of Stalking Wolf and his tribe against the Crow. You said in council a sacred vision sent you here to save us. You must do nothing to dishonor or prevent it. Your Great Spirit, chief, and people will be angry if you fail in your sacred task. You will do so if you steal Kionee or if you lure her away from us.”
“What is your true reason for breaking your law and your silence?” He watched Taysinga search her mind for a good response. When no sly answer seemed to come, she appeared to him to speak the truth.
“Kionee does not think it is right or kind for tivas not to mate and have children when there are so few Hanuevas. She does not believe we should be forced to dress and live as men. Being women does not take away our skills. We can be female hunters and fighters. Other tribes have them. We are forced to be what we are not. Yet, we are not allowed to do all things men can. We must not show our faces and let others learn we are women. I wish freedom from such strong and painful bindings. I wish to break my kim and become a woman again.”
“What is a kim? Tell me all about tivas. It will remain between us.”
After Taysinga
complied, he asked, “You say there is a path to freedom. What is it?”
Again Taysinga complied.
“You know of my shame and weakness,” the tiva continued. “I was afraid of the Crow when they attacked us. I am a good hunter, but I am not a fighter. I do not wish to ride into war. I am smaller and weaker than our foes. I will be slain. I do not want to ride in fear and danger each time I leave camp to hunt. I want peace, love, children, a tipi, woman’s chores, a mate, Night Walker.”
The Cheyenne realized the last reason left her lips without meaning to do so. He watched her gaze lower in distress. “Why do you not leave the rank and join to him?” he asked. “He meets all of your laws.” Taysinga’s eyes showed anguish and her voice carried tones of it when she answered.
“How can I pursue and win Night Walker when he views me as a man, like a brother? How can a man lure another man to him? I try to do so in cunning ways, but I have failed to snare his eye and heart. If Kionee puts aside her vow, serious troubles will come. Two tivas leaving in the same season will be viewed as a bad sign, as evil medicine. They will blame you and Kionee for bringing darkness and evil into our camp.”
“Why would Kionee leave her rank when she is needed? She has not revealed herself to me. Even if she does not believe your tiva laws are fair, she lives as one in all ways before me and her tribe.”
“You are a great warrior and a man who pleases women’s eyes and hearts. You have come to rescue us from great peril. She has not known a man such as you; she has not shared adventures such as those with you. To be your companion stirs her blood and heart in strange ways. I fear it will cause her to weaken, to hunger to become a woman. She is our greatest hunter and bravest guardian; she is a tiva of great honor, respect, and rank; all others try to be like her. If she puts aside her mask and rank for any man or reason, her defiance will bring much suffering.”
Destiny Mine Page 14
