Destiny Mine

by Janelle Taylor

  As she led the horses away, with Maja trailing beside her, Kionee noticed that Moon Child paid little attention to either Cheyenne male. Yet, the girl kept stealing glances at a hunter nearby: Shining Star of their tribe.

  While Kionee was tending her family’s horses and her own, Taysinga arrived to thank her for the unexpected help during the hunt.

  “Your heart and ways are kind, Kionee. You slayed many buffalo with my markings, for I know the skill of your arrows when I see them. Others do not know my hunt was not good that sun, for my arrows were on many of the fallen. I shared the abundance with Sumba’s family and that of Tall Eagle, as was my vow in the winter camp. Tall Eagle’s mate has joined to another, so the buffalo I gave to her is enough to repay her loss. I will hunt again for Sumba’s family to fulfill my promise to them. I thank you and honor you.”

  “I did not help because I believe you are weaker and slower; I helped because it was much work for one hunter to do, and you are my friend, my tiva brother. It is good and wise for us to help each other. You would do the same for me. Did you tell Night Walker of your great success?”

  “Yes, and it pleased him. Is it wrong to trick him and others?”

  “Not when holding silent helps many. You desire him as a woman desires a man?” She was surprised she had asked that bold question, and was more astonished when the older woman replied in honesty.

  “It is true, but I must tell no one I hunger to mate with him. Why are we punished by our laws because we were born to families without sons? We are women; why can we not have the joys of being mates and mothers?”

  “I do not know. If there were no tivas, only female hunters and guardians, there would be no dangerous secret for our tribe to conceal. If those without brothers whose fathers become too weak to do their duties helped each other by tending others’ children and chores, we could still hunt for our families as needed. If an attack came, a few of us could guard all tiva children while the others battled enemies, so our tribe would not lose its protectors. If one or more guardians were slain in a fight, their men could take new mates. The risk of us being slain as sons is no greater than the same risk if we lived as daughters.”

  Kionee noticed Taysinga’s intense concentration on her words. “Other tribes have female warriors; it could be true for Hanuevas. I do not believe it is fair for us to be the only ones to make such sacrifices. But the tiva laws are old and strong; I fear they cannot be broken or changed. If you wish to leave the rank and join to Night Walker, it must be done by our customs. I see no uncrossable mountain between you and your love. He is worthy of you and you are worthy of him. But I warn you, hold silent while you play the hunter. With cunning and patience, you can capture him. I hope your chase will find victory; you would be good mates; you are well matched. In your heart and head, you are a woman; that is how you should live, not alone, unhappy, and in peril. I will tell no one your secret.”

  “My heart overflows with happiness to hear your words and to earn your friendship. I will do as you say and be careful.”

  “I will pray for your victory on love’s battleground.”

  Taysinga checked their privacy before saying, “There is a secret I must tell you. I am unworthy of your help, friendship, and respect.”

  Kionee studied the female’s hesitation and was intrigued by her words. “That is untrue, Taysinga, but free your mind of its guilt and shame.”

  “I am the one who broke your kim. I was ashamed and afraid after the Crow attack; I was angry and did not want to blame myself. I was jealous of your deeds. I lifted your spirit vessel to drop it but knew that was wrong. It slipped from my grasp before I could return it to its place. I feared to tell you or our Tiva-Chu, so I hid it behind others. I am sorry.”

  “Regim repaired it, so do not worry. I was also angry after Sumba’s loss and spoke in cruel haste. You must forgive me.”

  “We will be friends from this sun until we join Atah in the stars. I will help you in any way you ask of me.”

  “You are good and kind, Taysinga, and I thank you.”

  Days later as the seasonal chores continued, Kionee offered to watch her cousin’s two children while the anxious and weary mother tended her chores. “They wish to run and play, White Flower, and you have much to do. I will be their shadows until it is time for them to rest upon their mats. Little Weasel and Night Walker visit the Cheyenne to hear their stories and to learn tricks to battle the Crow with when we part from them.”

  “Thank you, Kionee, for they are restless and distract me this sun. I must work harder to teach them obedience and patience, for theirs are small.” She wanted to say she feared her husband had forgotten his help was needed and he was too eager to learn of war and coups, but she dared not.

  Yet, Kionee saw her frustrated expression and grasped the unspoken message. Since she had approached the woman, it was unnecessary for White Flower to use a talking-feather to ask permission to speak with her. As the mother gathered the active children and a few playthings, the tiva thoughts wandered. She felt pity for the young mother who had mated to Little Weasel at eighteen and must have discovered too late she had made a wrong choice. It was their law that only death or an evil deed broke a union, and the guilty were banished for life. Unlike most Hanueva men, her cousin was selfish and too proud to do any “woman’s work” in any season. Kionee had observed him using skinny reasons not to do so, even when White Flower was ill or too busy. She guided the five-year-old boy and his three-year-old sister to the grass on the edge of their camp. She sat down to observe them while they raced about chasing a deerskin ball stuffed with buffalo hair. She wished she was watching her children, hers and Stalking Wolfs, but that joy was impossible. In misery and longing, she stroked Maja’s neck for comfort. The silver wolf licked Kionee’s hand and rubbed his ears in her palm as if he sensed her anguish and need for solace.

  The children came to sit before Kionee and rest from their exertions. She smiled at the sweaty and dirty youngsters. “Your throats must be dry. Do you want water?” Both nodded in eagerness. She gave them drinks from the bag she had brought along, as the air was warm today.

  “Are you a great hunter and fighter like my father?” Weasel Boy asked.

  Kionee assumed her cousin had boasted of his prowess to them. “I am a good hunter and guardian, but a man must know when to battle and when to return home without challenging an enemy. It is wrong to war if truce can be made. Peace saves the lives of those we love, so we must seek it first and fight only to defend our lives and camp. A man is not weak and unworthy if he retreats from foes who are larger and stronger. With hunting, a man must not take more animals than his family needs and he must not slay any creature he does not use for food and garments and tipis. No woman,” Kionee said to Weasel Girl with a smile, “should pick more berries or plants than her family can eat. Atah and our laws tell us it is bad to waste His creations, and there are others to be fed and clothed. If we gather all of one animal or plant, there will be no seeds to grow more in seasons to come, and Hanuevas will not survive.”

  “Father says we can take what we need from the Crow. They are bad and must be punished. We must not be afraid and run when they raid us. Will he fight them when he rides from camp? Will he kill many Crow?”

  Kionee was stunned and alarmed by the things Little Weasel was telling his susceptible and trusting son. She guessed the child’s defiance came from his mother telling him to walk a path of peace and self-sufficiency when his father was telling him it was braver and easier to ride a trail of theft and coups. She wondered if her cousin’s parents and her grandparents knew about this. Surely Four Deer, Swift Fingers, Long Elk, and Yellowtail would not allow such things to continue if they were aware of the problem. Since their grandparents lived with his parents, they might not know. Perhaps she should whisper into her father’s ears so he could enlighten his brother and father. She must be cunning as she did not want more trouble between her and Little Weasel.

  “Atah and our laws say
it is wrong to take from others, even enemies,” Kionee said. “The Creator gave us skills and wits to do our own work, not force others to do it for us; that is lazy and unworthy of an Hanueva. There are good bands of Crow; we cannot punish and harm all of them to hurt those few who are bad. They are strong and many, Weasel Boy, to challenge them to war before we try to make peace or try to trick them out of our path is dangerous and foolish; many Hanueva would die or be captured. There are many good things about the Crow, but they are unlike us. It is best to remain separated and alive. Men who wish to raid and fight like the bad Crow seek out those bands who like to do the same, not those who have no hunger for killing and stealing.”

  Several older boys and girls came to the area and enticed the children to join them in a hoop-and-stick game. Kionee watched them until Weasel Boy, who was losing and getting annoyed, suggested a mock battle, with some of them playing Bird Warriors. Since it was time to eat and nap, she gathered Little Weasel’s children and took them to their mother. The boy did not want to stop playing or to go to sleep. Kionee was relieved when Four Deer and Swift Fingers arrived in time to give White Flower needed assistance with discipline. She accepted the mother’s gratitude and left.

  The Cheyenne braves gathered early one morning and left on a second hunt, while the Hanuevas stayed behind to complete their tasks from the first one. From messages sent to camp, the large herd which their scouts had sighted was farther away after the last chase, so the men expected to be gone for several days, unless the buffalo changed directions. The last report said the animals had halted and were grazing contentedly, as if they awaited what was to come. The Cheyenne women and captives who were to butcher and transport the meat home were told to follow them later; they also planned to spend a night or two on the grasslands. Their children would be tended by aging parents, grandparents, older siblings, or trusted captives during the mothers’ absences. Some would be cared for by female friends who could not go along because they were too heavy with child or were nursing babies.

  As Kionee observed the scenes, she gathered information about her lover’s people. She was happy to see how they helped each other in times of need. She was also pleased to learn that their captives were treated with kindness and that most accepted their altered fates. She could not imagine such an existence, but it seemed a way of life with other tribes.

  She had not even glimpsed Stalking Wolf since his visit six suns past. It was frustrating to know he was nearby, but out of reach and view.

  She knelt by the circle of rocks to make a fire for her mother. She grasped two sticks and placed sand on one. Amidst a small bed of dried grass, she rolled the second stick between her palms with fast movements until it created sparks and made a tiny flame. She fanned it until the dried buffalo chip caught fire. When that one was burning, she added others.

  Just as she completed her task, a shadow fell over her. She looked up and saw a smiling Night Walker. She wished her mother and sisters were nearby, but they were gathering more chips in parfleches and fetching water in bags.

  “You work hard and long and good, Kionee. No other…matches your skills on the hunt, in the battle, or in camp.”

  She nearly flinched as she saw his ravenous gaze devouring her and heard the husky tone of his voice. She guessed he had almost called her a woman, but she pretended not to notice. “Thank you, my friend and brother.”

  The chiefs youngest son lowered himself to one knee. He propped an elbow on his thigh and watched her. “It is good you know much about women’s chores and help your mother and sisters with them.”

  “It is our way to lighten the burdens of others.”

  “You would not need much training to become a mate and mother.”

  She focused a strange and reproving gaze on him. “I do not need such training; I am a tiva.”

  “One season that could change.”

  “Only if Atah wills it, and He does not do so.”

  “What if the Creator speaks to you but you refuse to listen?”

  She looked at him as if he had lost his wits or insulted her. “He has not done so, and He will not. I am needed in my rank.”

  “Another could do it for you, one who is skilled and desires you.”

  “I hope there is no man among our tribe who hungers for me, for I cannot feed him the food he craves. It is not in my heart or head. I pray if such a man lives among us, he will not speak of such unwanted things to me. I do not wish to injure his feelings or pride with a refusal.”

  “Are you certain there is no pursuer you would not think to turn away?”

  “Yes. I am a tiva and I will remain a tiva until I breathe no more.” She knew she had made her voice and expression harsh and firm to silence him. She watched him shrug, grin, and drop the matter.

  “I go to ride with Little Weasel. We scout for enemies and shoot pronghorn not far away where they graze. Will you come with us?”

  “I have work to keep me here, but I thank you. Ask Taysinga to go. He sees you as the greatest hunter and protector among our people. He also thinks there is no Cheyenne or Crow with prowess to match yours. He seeks to learn much from you about hunting and fighting. You can speak while you ride. It would be a good deed for you to help him.”

  “If it pleases you, I will ride and talk with your tiva brother.”

  “It would please me and Taysinga. Thank you.”

  Night Walker stood, stared down at her a moment, then left.

  Kionee sighed in relief of his departure.

  Later, as Strong Rock’s family worked during the afternoon, Martay edged close to Kionee. She said in a low voice no one could overhear, “Night Walker is a skilled hunter and fighter of high rank. I see a glow in his eyes this season when he looks at my son. I think he will seek you in joining after we leave the grasslands.” When Kionee gaped at her, Martay smiled and coaxed, “Do not fear, my child; that is good. To join with our chiefs son is a great honor. It will please Night Walker, Bear’s Head, and our people for two of such high ranks to join. It will bring happiness to your father and mother, for a union will remove you from the path of peril on the hunt and in the battle. You can become a female again; you can have love, children, a tipi, and a mate. Our people need more children to make us larger and stronger, for our enemies grow bolder. One sun, Night Walker could be our chief. Others will not understand why you dishonor such a great man who is worthy of you and who meets our laws to leave the tiva rank. He rode as our son on the journey to the plains. We love, respect, and trust him. We will live in your tipi while he provides for us and protects us. I will have my lost daughter returned. We will work together again as we did before you took your vows and left me. That moon was hard for me, Kionee, for my selfish heart loved you above your sisters. They will be gone soon, joined to mates and with their own tipis and families. You need not speak of your thoughts and feelings this day, but think on my words and this good deed.” Martay rose and left before her firstborn could argue the matter.

  Kionee stared after her mother in astonishment and distress. She wondered if Martay spoke the entire truth or if her parent feared she would take off with Stalking Wolf if she refused Night Walker. Dread and fear washed over her as she felt the trap tighten around her. She could not accept Night Walker for a mate, and she did not know how Stalking Wolf would react to such an event if she were compelled somehow to consent.

  It was midnight when Maja slipped inside the tipi and nudged Kionee awake. The entry flap had been left tied back for air to enter and then leave through the top opening. The silver wolf placed his mouth around her wrist in a gentle grip and tugged on it. Kionee suspected something was wrong. Without disturbing the others, she took a bow and quiver and a knife from her tipi-of-power and followed him.

  Soon she discovered what Maja had sighted or smelled as he roamed the area for a last time: two Crow warriors were sneaking into the partially deserted Cheyenne camp. It was as if they had spied and knew most of the braves and many women were away on the hunt, an
d the others were slumbering on their mats. She wondered why they did not steal horses and possessions near the edge of the many circles, then surmised the daring enemies’ target from the direction they took. With caution, she and Maja hurried forward. The two Crow seemed to travel alone.

  Kionee and the wolf reached Big Hump’s tipi just after the last Crow ducked and vanished inside. After discarding her bow and quiver and drawing her knife, she entered without making any noise. In the remaining firelight, she saw one with his blade lifted, ready to slay the chief as he slept, while the other was searching through the leader’s possessions with his back also to her. She feared there was not enough time to reach the defenseless man before a fatal blow was struck; and the moment she revealed her presence, both would attack her. Yet, she knew she must try to save Stalking Wolf’s grandfather, his adopted father, even if it cost her her life.

  “No!” she shouted in their language, causing both of the armed and experienced warriors to whirl and notice her. Two against one, her keen mind warned as they charged her with weapons brandished.

  16

  MAJA BOUNDED THROUGH the opening and leapt upon one attacker, seizing an armed wrist with powerful jaws and disabling it before Kionee could be hurt. The growling animal clamped down tighter, despite the rain of blows to his body and head. Finally letting go, Maja snapped at the man’s flailing arms, bare belly, and legs; as he did so, his strong mandibles inflicted many gashes which spewed blood. He began to nip at the man’s chin and chest in an attempt to reach his throat.

  The silver wolf’s sudden appearance and the Crow’s yelps of pain and terror caused the second man to be distracted long enough for Kionee to prepare for his impending assault. He came at her in a crouched position, holding the blade point toward her. She made certain her weapon’s grip was secure and held herself loose for quick and easy movement. She knew it would require skill, cunning, and careful timing to best him. The man grinned to intimidate her and slashed at her, but she dodged his strike.