Tiopa Ki Lakota

by D. Jordan Redhawk

  The light intensified until it surrounded the mother and child, so bright she had to hide her eyes. When she was able to see, there was nothing there.

  "Hiya

  !" Anpo gasped, fighting herself awake.

  The sleeping robes pooled about her waist, her breasts hanging free in the cool early morning air. Beside her, Kathleen rumbled and rolled onto her back, holding Teca to her like a doll.

  A dream! It was a dream! the warrior insisted, reaching a hesitant hand out to touch the blonde hair. They are still here. Still with me.

  Teca

  woke a bit. He sprawled across his ina's belly, thumb tucked firmly into his mouth. Solemn eyes stared at his inanup

  , more asleep than awake.

  The look haunted Anpo. So much like the dream.... She stilled the fear and caressed her cinksi, rubbing his back until dark eyes closed and his breath deepened into sleep.

  With slow, careful movements, Anpo eased out from under the covers. When she was clear of the bedding, she dressed. The warrior left her hair free and stealthily stepped out of Kathleen's ti

  ikceya

  .

  The sun had yet to come up and no one was about, all snug in slumber. On the outskirts of camp, the herd of ponies were being guarded by younger koskalaka, their presence keeping the camp and its inhabitants safe.

  As the warrior passed the fire, currently a mound of ash surrounded by rock, she scooped up one of her robes. With long strides, she left Mani's camp behind.

  Soon, Anpo stood at the side of a river. It was deep and swift with a small falls rumbling in a tenor voice. The sky was beginning to lighten, midnight blue giving way to the grey of dawn. Puffs of steam from her breath filled the chill air. The wikoskalaka found an outcropping that wasn't getting too much spray from the water and settled down, wrapping her robe about her.

  Scouts had returned the previous day with good news. After a full moon of travel, they had found the white trader they sought. The morning would be exciting, people dressing in their finest, preparing their skins for trade, packing their lodges.

  Anpo's family had spent quite a bit of time at Mani's

  fire after the scouts reported. The chief did his best to learn all he could from Kathleen. The picture the blonde painted of her people was not a pretty one. All the elders present at the council lodge were uncomfortable with the dangerous potential for misunderstandings.

  The point was moot. There was no turning back now. Mani was wise enough to know that whether he made contact with this trader or not, others would. They would end up with the benefits that Topeya's camp had already attained.

  A whisper of the dream tickled Anpo's mind and she tried to grab at it, make sense of it. For seven winters the vision had remained the same, even in her sleep. Why is it different now? All that she'd thought regarding it was put into question. Do I hurt Ketlin? Or does she hurt me!?

  The warrior's heart felt the remembered hollowness as her family disappeared into the brilliant light. Will she decide to leave me for the white trader? she worried, pulling the robe tighter against the cold. Anpo immediately discarded that possibility. No. Not after what my winuhca said last night about her people. I do not see her wishing to remain with men like that.

  Closing her eyes, she could hear Kathleen's voice, "Mahasanni ki," and see her walk away with Teca. And though she leaves me, she still loves me. The dark head was shaking in confusion.

  "Ate, Inyan

  ," Anpo whispered to the morning as she opened her dark eyes. "I wish you were here now to give me counsel."

  Kathleen peered into the small clearing as the camp broke through the treeline. The forward scouts were there, whooping and riding around the large cabin that was belching smoke from its chimney. It was a ramshackle building made of thin logs, the entire building twice the size of the usual family settlement.

  The area around the trading post had been cleared of tall grass and trees. A woodpile was beside one door with a large stump in the front yard being used as a chopping block. Already, two koskalaka

  had pulled the axe from it and were studying the blade closely. A separate, smaller shack was to one side. The snorting of a horse could be heard from within and it nickered at the steeds of three scouts circling.

  Mani led his people down the gentle slope, resplendent in his red and yellow painted chest and a headdress that sported many eagle feathers. Behind him and fanned out were the elders and other important wicasa of his camp, all wearing their best clothing and paints, hair and bodies adorned with the proper badges and feathers of their accomplishments.

  The blonde woman felt a sense of loss as the camp neared their destination. Nothing will be the same, she mourned, unsure where the emotions and thoughts were coming from.

  "Ketlin! Look!" Hca exclaimed in a soft voice.

  The trader had come out of the cabin. He strode a few feet out into the yard, his arms wide in welcome and a smile on his face. Of average height, he was wearing a homespun shirt and wool pants, suspenders holding them up. His hair was dark and shaggy, as curly as his beard, and parted in the middle.

  Hca juggled the baby she carried in a sling across her body. "What is that on his face!?"

  "Hair," Kathleen answered.

  "Do all your wicasa

  have hair on their faces like that!?" the dark woman quizzed.

  Despite her misgivings, the white woman smiled. "No, stepan. Sometimes the men shave it all off. Or they leave it above the lip or over the cheeks...." She trailed off, men's beard styles too numerous and distracting to get into.

  Hca shook her head at the wonder of it all, following the people as they continued their trek.

  Anpo rode with Mani and the elders. She cast one long look at her woman as they neared the white trader. A reassuring smile was sent her way and the warrior returned it before pulling her pony up and dismounting with the rest of the party.

  "Hau

  , wicasa ska," Mani intoned, raising his hand in the signal for peace.

  "How," came the response and the mirrored gesture. The trader also smiled with encouragement, showing stained and pitted teeth. "You've come to trade?" he asked, using sign language as he spoke his strange tongue.

  The elders murmured a grudging respect for his knowledge, though Anpo studied him with careful eyes. He is not speaking the words that Ketlin speaks.

  The chief signed back, "We come to trade."

  Showing off more of his ugly teeth, the trader's grin widened and he clapped his hand together in delight. "Good! Good!" Thumping his chest, he said, "I am Jacques!"

  "Mani."

  The trader shocked the gathering by slapping the chief on the back. "Mani! Let's go see my wares!"

  Only the chief's warning glance to his people kept the warriors from attacking. Arm firmly wrapped about the native's shoulder, the trader began ushering Mani into the cabin. Seemingly ignorant of the tension he was provoking, Jacques continued to babble away in his language, only releasing the young chief when he stopped to throw open the door. With a flamboyant gesture, he indicated Mani was to step inside. The elders followed.

  The remainder of the camp halted their progress upon reaching the clearing. Winyan

  made last minute checks of the items they had brought to trade and chattered excitedly with each other. The children, sensing the emotion, ran rings around the adults and horses. The koskalaka roamed the area, studying the cabin and its environs with interest and suspicion.

  Anpo drifted towards her family. She caught sight of her sic'e speaking with another warrior and holding the trader's axe. A grin was shared as their eyes met for an instant.

  As the warrior neared the blonde's pony, Teca crowed, "Inanup!" from the packed lodge. The toddler stood on unsteady legs and held out his arms with insistence.

  Anpo grinned and sidled her pony beside the logs that held her winuhca's

  ti ikceya in place. With a strong hand, she grabbed her son up to straddle the steed before her. Clucking at the horse,
the warrior urged it around the lodge until they were beside her woman. "Han, winuhcala," she greeted. "Han, cuwekala

  , tunska

  ."

  "Han, mitankala," the dark woman answered. Jostling the sleeping baby. "Yus'as'a

  would say hau if he were awake." She grinned at her sister.

  "Han, my warrior," Kathleen returned with a smile. Leaning against Anpo's leg, she peered upwards with worried eyes. "All is well?"

  "Ohan, Ketlin. All is well." The warrior adjusted herself in the saddle as their son bounced up and down in an attempt to urge the pony onwards. "I do not think he speaks your tongue. I did not recognize any of the words."

  The blonde nodded. "This far north, he would be from the French, I think."

  "You cannot tell what tribe he is from by his clothing?" Hca asked.

  "Hiya, stepan

  . Not often. Sometimes it is easy to know what a white man works at by his clothing but not what tribe he is from."

  The dark woman quirked her eyebrow and shook her head at the wonder of white society. In her arms, the baby fussed to wakefulness and Hca found herself distracted from the conversation.

  "What happens now, winuhcala?" Kathleen questioned as they both looked to the trader's cabin.

  Anpo sighed. "Now we wait, Ketlin. When Mani and the elders have decided to trade with wicasa ska, we will be told." She looked down to the toddler who bobbed intently in her saddle, unable to make the horse go. "But first I must take my cinksi

  for a ride so that he will know what it is like to have a pony beneath him running like the wind!"

  Used to the sudden change of topic for Teca, the blonde grinned and stepped back. "Our cinksi is already one of the best riders in camp," she insisted, her smile widening as the toddler puffed up in pride.

  "Ohan

  , he is."

  "Hau! I am!" the boy exclaimed with excitement. "Teca big warrior, inanup

  !"

  "Big warrior," Anpo repeated with conviction as she pulled the steed away from her woman. As she kicked it into a trot, she glanced behind with a wink and a smile.

  Kathleen watched them go, her heart full of pride and love for them.

  It wasn't long before some of the elders emerged from the cabin with another white man. This one was older, with graying hair and craggy face. He lugged a heavy bundle to the chopping block, settling it carefully before unwrapping it. The warriors around him yipped with enthusiasm as the midday sun reflected off the steel blades.

  A few of the important men stepped out and gestured their women and scouts to come inside. Some of the koskalaka elected to remain with the older trader and his knives. Nupa

  and Anpo both decided to follow their women.

  Teca had been settled into a cradle board across his ina's back. Though he fidgeted somewhat, his dark eyes alertly studied the wonders that were in the cabin. Shiny pots and ladles hung from the rafters, all manner of strange tools and utensils lay upon the heavy wooden tables. Thick blankets and shirts of all imaginable colors, wooden boxes of different designs, a riot of color and shapes that boggled the Lakota minds.

  As Kathleen made her way along the tables, a nostalgic twinge plucked at her heart. The blonde found herself answering questions about the strange items and their functions, putting her interpretation skills to quite a bit of use. With gentle fingers, she caressed a tin whistle that looked like her grandmother's.

  She smelled him first, a dusty odor of sweat that indicated someone who didn't bathe often. A vague memory of her husband flitted through her mind as Kathleen looked up from a grinder, the discussion with her stepan trailing away. The younger trader was across the table from her, watching her curiously. A trickle of unease caused her to shiver.

  Seeing her attention was his, the trader spoke.

  French. Definitely French, lass. Kathleen shook her head. "I do not understand," she replied in Lakota. Beside her, Hca watched with intent curiosity.

  The man's brow quirked, obviously not expecting the barrier. Again he spoke, this time with a heavy accent. "You speak English?"

  Blinking in surprise, the blonde woman nodded.

  "I am Jacques," he said. "What is name?"

  "Kathleen," the woman responded. She felt a presence behind her, heard the toddler call to his inanup and relaxed a little.

  The trader eyed the sudden appearance of a possessive warrior with misgiving. Subconsciously, he stood straighter and raised a chin in response to Anpo's presence. "This your buck?"

  A slow burn sparked in Kathleen's heart at the phrase. Dark blue eyes flashing, she nodded again. "Yes."

  Realizing he'd offended the white woman, Jacques nodded once and shrugged an apology. He scooped up the tin whistle and held it up. "You play?"

  Despite herself, the blonde's anger dissipated and she gave the instrument a wistful smile. "Yes. It's been some time, though."

  "Four rabbit skins and yours."

  The sentimentality was chased away by her common sense. "One rabbit skin will buy you five just like it in Boston."

  Jacques' face melted into a rueful grin. "Oui." He set the whistle back down on the tabletop. "But here worth four."

  Lips thinning in distaste, Kathleen shook her head and stepped away from the table. Hca followed as the blonde moved to the other side of the cabin.

  The trader watched her go, shaking his head. Motion caught his attention and he found himself looking up into the dark eyes of the yellow shirted warrior. Swallowing nervously, he forced himself to return the gaze.

  After long minutes, Anpo leaned forward, her eyes narrowed and face stern. She watched as the ugly white man swallowed harder and sweat popped up onto his brow. A slow, feral smile grew on her face.

  Jacques' heart beat double time at the implied threat. Without thought, he backed a step away from the table, away from the warrior who studied him as if he were lunch. He watched as the yellow shirted man picked up the tin whistle his woman had been eyeing and tucked it into a pouch. A wince crossed his face at the loss of a trade, but he kept his silence, knowing the savage could kill him for no reason.

  The warrior straightened. With obvious disapproval for the man, Anpo tossed a bundle of furs onto the table and stalked away. She missed the heavy sigh of relief as the trader wiped his forehead.

  Unable to escape his greedy nature, the man scooped up the bundle and unwrapped it. Unfurled, the furs became those of four rabbits. Dark eyebrows shot up as he realized how much the warrior had understood and a sense of urgency filled him. If these natives understand English....

  Nupa, who had watched the exchange, looked up from the strange utensil he was examining to see the white trader stumble out into the yard. Hearing the other trader's name being called, he shrugged and set the fork down, continuing his path along the tables and finding a heavy wool blanket.

  The small family wandered away from the still celebrating Lakota. Teca was cuddled in one of his inanup's arm, exhausted from the excitement of the day, and his mother was wrapped in the other.

  Once the initial trading sessions had been completed, the winyan

  had set up their camp nearby and the traders were invited to feast with the people. They had accepted with wreathes of smiles on their faces. After the ti ikceyas were up and the fires lit, another bout of trading occurred.

  Almost like a fair, the blonde woman mused, enjoying the strong arm draped across her shoulder. The only fly in the ointment has been the guns and whiskey.

  At the proper time, the traders had come out of their cabin and joined the natives at their council fire. Along with them came their rifles and an innocuous wooden keg. They offered the chief a drink before passing the whiskey around to the other warriors, laughing uproariously as brown faces grimaced at the taste and burning sensation.

  Behind Kathleen, another rifle went off near the fire where Mani was learning to shoot. She jumped in reaction before relaxing into the gentle squeeze her warrior gave her. Smiling up into dark eyes, she squeezed back w
here her arm was lying about a firm waist.

  Fortunately, the traders couldn't understand the Lakota language. It was fairly easy for the white woman to speak with Anpo and have the warrior relay the information to the rest of those gathered at the fire. One round of the keg and no one would have another drink. The two Frenchmen seemed a bit put out, but the younger smiled and winked at Kathleen with a grudging admiration.

  Reaching the lodge, the blonde woman held the leather covering aside for Anpo to duck in with her important bundle. Soon, Teca was sleeping soundly in his furs and the couple were outside by the fire.

  "Hiya, winuhcala

  ," Kathleen murmured, reaching out her hand to stop the warrior. "You need to hold the knife this way." She showed the wikoskalaka

  the proper angle on the whetstone. "And use pressure as you push it along."

  Anpo nodded and did as she was instructed, a strange sound emitting from the flat stone she held in her hand. "Like when I sharpen my spears...?"

  The blonde smiled. "Ohan! Just like that." Watching as the warrior repeated the process several times, she added, "And then you do the same on the other side until it is sharp."

  They sat in silence as the honing continued, the only sounds the gentle rasp of metal on stone, the continued singing and drumming at the council fire and the occasional gunshot.

  "What did the younger wicasa

  graph-definition>

  ska

  say to you?" Anpo broke the silence. She continued her work on the knife, not looking up. "I could not understand him well, his words are different than yours."

  Kathleen looked into the fire. "He told me his name. Asked if you were my wicasa." An impish grin crossed her face and dark blue eyes darted to the warrior. "I told him you were."

  Chuckling, Anpo tested the edge of the blade with her thumb before beginning to sharpen the other side.

  "He offered me something for trade and I told him hiya

  ." The blonde woman returned her gaze to the orange and yellow flames, leaning back and resting her weight on her palms.

  "What did he offer for trade?"

  The shoulders raised in an eloquent shrug. "Nothing important. Nothing useful." Kathleen sighed. "Just a toy."