by Vivi Holt
Bodaway stopped and studied the children, his arms crossed over his chest. Then without warning, he bent at the waist and rushed into the fray, grabbing children up as he went, their squeals of delight echoing across the village.
Maria’s gaze traveled from the children, around the village and back to the fire at her feet. In that moment, there was no one in sight other than Bodaway, the children and Tomowa. Shiriki wasn’t at his post and she had no idea where he’d gone. And for the first time that day, the rest of the tribe weren’t to be seen either.
Slowly she pushed herself to her feet. The prick of pins and needles in her legs after kneeling for so long caused her to wobble as she stepped forward. She kept her head down and walked on the track between the teepees toward the herd of horses. Her best chance of escape would be by horse, though it would draw far more attention than just walking away.
She frowned and pursed her lips. No, she couldn’t risk it. Even though her likelihood of survival was much better if she rode, she’d likely never make it out of the village if she took one of the ponies. She spun westward, away from the horses, and broke into a run out of the village. She wasn’t thinking clearly, she knew that even as she ran. Where would she go? What would she eat?
She should have packed a bag to take with her, though she’d never be able to hide something like that in the village under the watchful eyes of the villagers. An hysterical laugh gurgled up inside, and she pressed forward, her feet flying over the grassy hill and onto the prairie. But even as the thought that she’d die out here alone, flitted through her mind, she found she didn’t care. Just to be free, for one day, she’d take that chance.
In moments, she was enveloped by tall prairie grasses that came up to her waist, tickling her legs and bare forearms. She heard a shout behind her as Tomowa called after her, but didn’t turn back. Instead she focused on the mountain range to the north. Once she was safely clear of the village, she’d head that way, knowing that was the direction she should go. Apart from that, she’d have to trust the good Lord to get her back to civilization.
Her boots weren’t made for running on slick grass. She tried to beat a path forward with her hands, but every few steps her feet slipped and she had to slow and right herself. Her heart pounded and beads of sweat gathered across her brow and trickled down both temples, wetting her hair. She mustn’t slow her pace, even though every heaving breath she drew felt as though it would cause her lungs to explode.
A small hollow opened up before her, having been hidden by the tall grasses until the moment she was upon it, and her legs gave way. She fell with a cry, her ankle twisting painfully as she landed on her side. She heard her head smack hard on the unyielding ground and her eyes swam with pinpricks of light. She lay on her back, panting and lifted a hand to the back of her head. A lump was already forming, but there was no blood. She grimaced and kneaded the knot carefully.
The sun overhead beat down on her overheated frame and she lay still for a moment, a sense of hopelessness flooding her. Slowly her breathing calmed and peace crept into her troubled thoughts. Where she lay, surrounded by swaying grasses, no one could see her. She was entirely alone and entirely free. A captive no more …
Tears trickled down her cheeks and she grinned up at the sky, awesome and wide above, filling her entire world with blue. She shifted, ready to squat and take a look back at the village. As her foot took her weight, she winced – her ankle was injured, at the very least badly bruised.
The sound of swishing in the grass caught her ear, and she listened intently as it came closer. Still as a mouse, she held her breath tight. Her eyes widened and she could feel her pulse quicken as the noise drew nearer.
The grass parted and Shiriki stood over her, one eyebrow arched over narrowed eyes. “Come.” He turned and looked back over his shoulder. “You come.”
Maria sighed and shut her eyes tight. With a last glance skyward, she stood and hobbled back to the village, trailing the straight-backed muscular form of Shiriki, who never once checked to see if she followed him.
Chapter Five
Maria woke with a start. Shiriki stooped beside her sleeping mat and shook her again. “Get up,” he said in his own tongue. She’d been their captive now for an entire winter and understood most of what was said to her, though she often found it hard to wrap her mouth around the words herself. They never used English with her anymore and expected her to keep up.
The crisp air drifted beneath the buffalo hide as he grabbed her arm, sending a shiver through her warm body. She sat up and pulled the hide around herself, rubbing her eyes clear of sleep. “Just a moment. What is it? What’s going on?”
He frowned and reached for her arm again, pinching it between his strong fingers. “Let’s go.”
Something about his manner frightened her. He was usually so calm and never came into her teepee to waken her. He’d even given up guarding her much of the time, leaving her in the care of Tomowa or one of the other women when he wanted to go hunting or riding with the other men, or just sit around the fire with them in another part of the village. No doubt he thought the winter weather itself was deterrent enough for her — since escaping the village in her thin dress would mean certain death.
She’d tried to escape several times, but each time he’d found her shivering and almost frozen, and he’d brought her back. So she’d given up on it while winter took hold of the village, clinging fast to the idea that spring would bear new opportunities. And Shiriki had relaxed his attentions to her as a result. But this day, he seemed upset, irritated and determined to make her mind him.
“Ouch! You’re hurting me.” She shook free of his grasp and glared at him.
He scowled and crossed his arms.
Maria stood and gestured to the door. “I need a moment to tidy myself.”
He shook his head. “No, no time. Come with me now.”
Her chin trembled. What was happening? A quick glance revealed the teepee was empty. Where was everyone? She swallowed, pulled the fur around her shoulders, then followed Shiriki from the tent and out into the gray dawn. Insects buzzed over the surface of the river and a water bird bathed on the rippling edges, its feathers ruffling as it shook the droplets of water free before ducking its tiny head beneath the surface. The prairie grasses were dark with wet drooping heads in the stillness of the early morning, and the call of a prairie hen in the distance seemed loud in the frosty quiet of dawn.
The camp itself was unusually still as well, as if mirroring its surroundings. Most mornings the village was a hive of activity – children scampering around, rolling hoops or hooting with laughter; women squatting by campfires, making breakfast and chattering amongst themselves; men talking and smoking, preparing for the day’s hunt. Yet as she emerged from the teepee, no one was around but herself and her guard. All the fire circles crouched cold against the rich earth, and the village streets were empty.
She pulled the hide tighter around her trembling shoulders. The linsey-woolsey dress she’d been wearing on the day they were attacked by the raiding party was in tatters now after months of daily wear and hung loose on her thin frame. A sudden gust of wind covered her skin with goose pimples beneath the thick fur cape.
A shout caught her attention, and she noticed the People crowded in a circle up ahead. The tent they were gathered before belonged to the chief, Honovi. Her heart lurched and she drew a deep, shuddering breath. As they approached, the circle opened to allow them through. Dozens of black eyes fixed on her dirty face, and she cowered under their gaze.
At the center of the circle was a small clearing where Shiriki stopped and motioned for her to come alongside him. She did, her wide eyes darting around, hoping to find a friendly face in the midst of the throng. What was happening? It seemed she was the subject of this gathering, but what did they intend to do with her? Surely they wouldn’t keep her all these long months just to kill her now? And where was Tomowa?
A group of six men strode into the circle next and s
tood before her, led by Honovi, who wore a band around his head decorated with colorful beads and two long feathers fixed against one temple. His long pants and moccasins were also covered in beading, and an impressive necklace adorned with the claws of what must once have been several different fierce creatures hung low around his sagging neck.
He began to speak, his booming voice deep and full. Maria understood a word here and there, but his speech was riddled with imagery and formality she wasn’t accustomed to hearing, and she struggled to grasp the fullness of what he was saying. She knew for certain only that he was speaking about her, since he repeated the word wasicu over and over, a term that had become her moniker around the village.
Then Shiriki spoke. “The wasicu is strong and helpful to the women. She has done well and understands many words. She has caused no trouble in her time here. Any man would welcome her into his home.”
Her eyes widened further. What was this? Was she being auctioned off to any man who would take her? Had Shiriki tired of his charge? She looked at him, but he refused to meet her gaze, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the chief and the council of elders before him.
“Who claims the wasicu?” Honovi asked.
Maria’s chest grew tight and her fingers twitched. She stared hard at the ground as the silence grew.
“I will.” A man stepped forward into the circle, his lips curled into a sneer.
She recoiled at the sight of him. He was the man who’d killed Fred! She’d never forget that face – it was etched into her mind for all eternity. She still saw it when she lay down to sleep at night.
He began to speak, making his case to the chief, who listened intently, his head tipped to one side. When he was finished, the chief glanced her way, then cleared his throat. “Anunkasan has made a claim on the wasicu. Will anyone else?”
Glancing at Anunkasan, she saw him grin at her with narrowed eyes and cross his arms over his strong chest. She gaped at the crowd, her head spinning. Surely someone else would speak up. She couldn’t live with that man, not after what he’d done. She’d die first.
The chief sighed and scratched his cheek before speaking. “If no one else will …”
“I will.” Bodaway stepped forward and stood beside Anunkasan, who scowled at him and dropped his hands to his sides, fists clenched.
“Speak then, my son,” said the chief.
Maria tipped her head to one side, and arched an eyebrow. Bodaway was the chief’s son? She’d watched him for months now, certain that he was someone of importance. But he didn’t act like the son of a chief. He spent most of his time on his own or playing with the children. He usually hunted alone, then returned to sleep and eat, hardly interacting with the others unless required to. People were deferential to him, but most of the time paid him no mind. She bit her lower lip, waiting for Bodaway’s response.
“Father, you know I have not wished for a wife. My wife is dead and I vowed in front of you all never to replace her. But in recent months I have changed my mind and wish to have a mother for my children. They need a mother’s love, a mother’s touch. Let me have her in place of the one I lost.”
A general murmuring in the crowd showed their appreciation for his words.
Anunkasan glowered, his fists still clenched. “I made the first claim. I should have her. It was I who took her many months ago – she rightfully belongs to me!”
Bodaway stood silent, his gaze fixed on his father’s face.
The chief studied the two men, then rubbed his chin with a gnarled hand. “Bodaway may have her.”
Anunkasan spat in the dirt with a scowl.
“Yes, he should have her,” Honovi continued. “He lost a wife, and now he will take this English woman in her place. The wasicu will go with him. She will be his wife and a mother to his children. I have made my decision.” He turned, strode out of the circle and into his residence, with the council of elders following silently behind. Anunkasan cursed and stalked away. The rest of the group slowly dispersed, leaving only Bodaway and Maria standing there.
She swallowed and glanced up at him.
He cleared his throat and frowned. “Follow me.”
She nodded and traipsed sullenly behind him as he strode off. The village had come to life again as they passed through it, and curious eyes followed her progress as they made their way to Bodaway’s tent. He stopped in front of a large teepee and motioned her in. She held back the door flap and stepped inside, the dim light making her squint.
When she turned around, expecting him to follow her, he was gone. She released the breath she’d held in her lungs in a quick sob. She hadn’t been sure what to expect when the chief said she should be his wife, but not this. Had he gone to find something? Would he be back soon? What did he expect her to do?
Several hours passed. Was she supposed to stay there all day? She wasn’t sure. Everything had changed in a moment. The communal teepee she’d come to think of as her sanctuary was no longer home to her. She poked her head out the door flap and looked around, but Shiriki was nowhere to be seen. Even Tomowa seemed to have abandoned her.
She tugged at the top button of her dress to loosen it, then began to pace across the tent. Hang it all, she wasn’t going to just stay indoors. He could do what he wished, but she wouldn’t cower like a child where he’d left her. There was no one standing guard – perhaps he’d never intended for her to remain there.
She stuck her head outside again, then stepped gingerly over the threshold, clutching and twisting her hands as her gaze drifted over the village. No one paid her any attention. She walked forward, feeling lighter and more at ease with each step.
Back at her old campfire, Tomowa knelt beside a large clay pot, slicing up a wild turkey and adding it to the mixture of vegetables in the pot. She smiled up at Maria and waved a greeting. “There you are. I hoped I’d see you today. Are you settling in well at Boda’s?”
Maria grimaced. “I am not sure – it is only been a few hours. What is going on? Why can I not stay here with you?”
Tomowa stopped slicing and stood slowly to face Maria. “It was time. Chief Honovi always intended for someone to take you in, but was giving you time to adjust to our way of life. He’s a considerate man beneath his rough surface. And today was the day. I wanted to tell you, but was told not to. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Then she frowned. “No.”
“It is custom – if someone is captured, they are first offered to the families who have lost a loved one. If none claim them, anyone else who wishes to can make a claim. Anun has had his eye on you from the first day, but you can be glad he didn’t prevail.” Tomowa shuddered and drew a deep breath. “He’s not a kind man.”
Maria sighed. “I know – he killed Fred. My husband.”
Tomowa’s eyes widened and she rested a hand on Maria’s forearm. “I’m sorry for you, my sister. Be glad Boda stepped forward when he did.”
“I am glad it was not someone else. But so much I don’t understand. Why did things have to change?”
“Everything changes.” Tomowa settled back into a squat and continued her work. “Come, help me prepare the meal. Boda has three small ones – you will be expected to feed them. I’ll take you out after I finish here and we will collect turnips, herbs and other things to eat. Boda will bring you meat.”
Maria frowned. So she was to be his slave – do his bidding, feed his children? What else would he expect of her? She sat beside Tomowa and reached for a turnip to slice. At least she’d avoided Anunkasan’s attentions … a shiver ran through her. She hated to think what he’d have expected of her. She’d have killed him in his sleep if it came down to it, and then she’d be in real trouble. Bodaway had saved her from Anunkasan, and Anunkasan from her.
Just then, Shiriki strolled by, his gaze flitting over Tomowa. Maria saw her friend blush, and cocked her head to one side. There certainly seemed to be some shared feelings between the two of them. She watched with curiosity as Tomowa smiled tentatively at the w
arrior, then returned to her work, cheeks blazing.
“So is there something between you and Shiriki?” Maria asked with a grin after he left.
Tomowa’s eyes widened. “Why? What do you mean? Did he say something?”
She laughed. “No, he would never speak with me. But I saw you look at each other just now.”
Tomowa pressed her lips together. “He’s a wonderful man, a strong warrior and destined to marry well. I doubt he’d consider me.”
Maria frowned. “Why not?”
“His family plan for him to marry another woman in the village. She’s beautiful, and the granddaughter of the great chief.” She wrinkled her nose and sighed.
“Well, I know nothing about that. But if he has a choice in the matter, you surely have a chance. His eyes light up when you are around.” Maria picked up a turnip and began slicing it.
“Do you think so?”
“Definitely.” She grinned, then wrinkled her nose. “I never would expect I’d play matchmaker for my guard.”
Tomowa laughed. “He was just doing his duty. And he did it with kindness, did he not?” Her brown eyes, full of hope, met Maria’s.
She nodded. “I suppose he did.”
Around midday she returned to Bodaway’s teepee to discover three half-naked children running around, squealing and playing. They stopped when she arrived and stared at her with gaping mouths. “Hello, children,” she said with a smile. “My name is Maria. What are your names?”
A tall girl who looked about ten years old spoke up with a proud smirk. “I’m Chepi! This is my brother Lonan. Impeme is our baby sister.” She pointed to a small girl at her feet, about three years old.
Impeme grinned and reached for Maria’s hand to squeeze it. “I’m hungry.”
Maria laughed. “It is good I brought some delicious stew with me, then.” She went inside the tent, found a stack of clay bowls and divided the stew up between them.
Just as she was handing the children a bowl each, Bodaway arrived. His eyes, black and impassive, flickered over the food and the children and landed on Maria, holding her gaze.