Destiny Mine

by Janelle Taylor

  Stalking Wolfs heart drummed in an odd manner and his loins warmed. He barely heard the words following her first few statements. “Do you fear she desires me as a man?”

  “Even if such is true, it is forbidden. Perhaps Kionee would break her tiva vow and join with a Hanueva, but she would never break her tribe’s laws. She would not shame herself and her family. She cannot leave; her father cannot hunt for them or protect them. Do not tempt her to do so.”

  Stalking Wolf recalled that Kionee would reach twenty-one seasons soon. “Is there a man among you she desires for a mate?”

  “I do not know. We shared the tiva tipi and training for many seasons, but we are not close friends. We do not speak to each other of things hidden deep in our hearts. Sumba was Kionee’s good friend.”

  Stalking Wolf suspected the only way Taysinga could know those secrets was by spying on Kionee and overhearing them. The only person he could imagine Kionee trusting that much was Regim, which would be the reason he had noticed the Tiva-Chu watching him on the sly. He warned himself to be careful in words, deeds, and looks around the society leader. “I have heard the name of Sumba.”

  “Sumba was killed by the Crow when I was afraid to battle them. Kionee offered me words of forgiveness, but she does not forget I am to blame for Sumba’s death and for endangering the others by refusing to fight.”

  “There is no loss of face when fear is wise and brings caution. Do not feel shame for not wanting to ride against strong and skilled enemies. It is best to know your strengths and weaknesses and to yield to them, just as it is foolish to challenge greater forces.” He saw her smile and her eyes mist in gratitude. “I will not betray your words to me and I will tell no one the tiva secret. If Crow or other enemies learn tivas are females, they will be hunted for captives and coups. I understand now why tivas conceal their sex to prevent men from desiring them, but it is sad they must make such sacrifices for their families and people. I will pray to the Great Spirit to turn Night Walker’s eyes and heart toward you.” Just as I will pray for Him to turn Kionee’s toward me. Somehow He will help me find a way to free her and win her, for surely she is part of my destiny.

  “You are good and kind,” Taysinga responded in gratitude. “Now we must part before others see us together. Do not forget my warnings, but forget Kionee is a female.”

  Stalking Wolf watched Taysinga vanish into the trees. He suspected she had not exposed all of her motives for revealing the shocking truth to him. He surmised Taysinga wanted Night Walker, but the chiefs son had his aim set on Kionee. The Cheyenne became agitated as he imagined the breathtaking beauty with such an aggressive man, one whom he believed was not trustworthy in all ways. He had been honest when he said he would pray for Taysinga to win Night Walker. He knew it would be hard, impossible, to allow Kionee to become that man’s mate.

  To rid himself of tension, Stalking Wolf took a long ride on White Cloud. He remembered his own and his shaman’s visions: his true destiny was to be given to him during this hot season. That destiny included discovering and punishing his parents’ slayer, guiding the Hanueva to his people for safety and survival for an unknown but important task, and finding a mate.

  A mate…His eyes and heart had settled on no female among his tribe. He wanted and needed a special woman, one who would be friend and companion as well as lover, one who would provide all that was missing from his life. It was not against his laws or beliefs to join outside his tribe; his own mother—the chiefs daughter—had done so. His father was as unlike the Cheyenne as Kionee was, yet their union had been strong, filled with love and passion, until they were slain without mercy. Like his father, Stalking Wolf did not want a timid and submissive wife. His mate must have strength and courage to be able to protect their tipi and family when he was gone on raids or battles. He wanted someone with whom he could share and tell all things. He craved a female whose desires and passions and dreams matched his own.

  Kionee was that kind of woman. He did not feel threatened by her skills or worried she would try to outshine him. He no longer felt ashamed for being captured; her reasoning for it made sense, and no man or woman could control destiny or the Great Spirit’s plans. He was certain she respected, liked, and trusted him. He was sure she enjoyed his companionship. They worked as one with ease and success. When necessary, she yielded to his words and experience, but she never did so in a cowering manner. She reminded him of light and warmth. They had a strong bond. If he was not mistaken or being wishful, Kionee had looked upon him with desire. He wanted her; he needed her in his lifecircle forever. Yet, there were enormous obstacles between them.

  He pondered the three paths to freedom and their complications: her parents’ deaths, which would not come for a long time unless enemies slayed them; a son born to Martay and Strong Rock—which appeared impossible after three daughters and sixteen years since Moon Child’s birth—plus the years required for him to train and replace Kionee; or meeting four hard deeds as a man worthy of her after she reached twenty-one circles of the seasons. In the last requirement, he was confident he could beat her in hand-to-hand fighting and arrow shooting, and become the Hunter-Guardian of her family in her place. Cognizant of his male prowess and appealing looks, he reasoned he could entice her to accept him by choice. But still, he was not Hanueva and there was no way he could become Hanueva in blood.

  Stalking Wolf concluded that no matter what he did for this tribe, they would never gift him with Kionee because she was a tiva and they could not permit that important secret to be divulged to others. If only she were just a woman, perhaps he could persuade them to let her join with him. But her handmark could not be removed. Besides, he could not even hint at wanting her without revealing he knew the truth; he had given Taysinga his word of honor to never do so. To make it appear Kionee had exposed herself would be dishonest and cruel. He must not become so desperate and eager to have her that he deceived and hurt her. Yet, he suspected from the visions and recent events that, in some mysterious and powerful way, the destinies of himself, Kionee, the Cheyenne, Hanueva, Crow, and his parents’ killer would be entwined this season.

  Kionee—“Wind of Destiny”—had connections to all except the last one. What, he wondered, could she know or have to do with the brutal incident that had taken his mother and father’s lives so long ago? Less than three winters old at that time, he could not say who had slain them. If his mother had not hidden him before the attack, to be found later by her brother, he would either be dead or a Crow captive this sun.

  Stalking Wolf pushed such tormenting thoughts from his mind and headed back to the Hanueva camp. He knew Kionee would be home, and it would be hard to “forget” she was a woman, one he desired above all others.

  The following morning just before midday, Kionee and Stalking Wolf finished the arrows they were making for their journey and the buffalo hunt. They had sharped their knives and restrung their bows. They had talked as they worked on mats side by side, with him relating tales of past hunts and battles and enlightening her about other aspects of his life.

  To her, his life sounded exciting, stimulating, and fulfilling. “There are many places and people I have not seen. You travel much and have many adventures. Do you become restless in camp in winter?”

  “On some suns. But there is much to do when snow blankets the land. Hunting is a bigger challenge. Weapons must be made and repaired. Deeds must be painted on family record hides. Skills must be honed in practice. Bodies must be kept strong and agile. Camp must be guarded. Rituals must be done. It is also a time to rest and visit.” To make love and make babies.

  To Kionee, he seemed a little different this day: more relaxed, and talkative. This side of him made him even more appealing to her. “You miss your family and people?”

  “Yes,” when I can think of anyone except you. I want to hold you and kiss you, take you to my mat, make you my own family. Knowing what was beneath those paints and male garments, his heart longed to win her, his spirit yearned t
o fuse with hers, his body ached to have hers. He pushed aside those arousing thoughts. “Five Stars and Stalking Wolf are brothers and best friends. We ride as one when I am home, as we do here. When we reach the summer camp, you will become friends with my brother. My people will honor you for the victorious deeds we carried out together.”

  Kionee was dismayed to realize those things could not happen, but it made her heart leap with joy for him to consider her that worthy. Tivas were not allowed to mingle with others, and she did not know how she would explain that to him and his tribe without offending them. What acceptable reason, she mused, could she give for refusing and for avoiding them? She must think of something believable before that sun rose.

  Stalking Wolf sensed her line of thought and perceived distress. He let the matter pass unquestioned for now. “Big Hump has lived many seasons; soon Five Stars will become a chief.”

  “He is older than Stalking Wolf?”

  “No, a circle of seasons younger. I have lived twenty-three.”

  “Why will you not become a chief after your grandfather?”

  “Five Stars has Cheyenne blood; mine is not all Cheyenne. We can join with those outside our tribe, as my mother did. My half blood does not matter to our people, but it prevents me from becoming a high leader.”

  “Does that anger and sadden you?”

  “No. Five Stars will make the best chief; Father trains him well for that rank. Holding the survival of your people in your grasp is a big task. In most Cheyenne bands, the society leaders have the power and control to tell their councils and chiefs what to do. With the Strong Hearts, we give our chief and council that power and control to lead us. What man among us could be more worthy than he who holds the four Sacred Arrows? It is the same with our shaman. Medicine Eyes sees and knows many things: we follow the visions Maheoo sends to us through him. It is my destiny to be a warrior and hunter and follower of Maheoo. That pleases me.”

  “I have heard the story of Sweet Medicine’s prophecy, who gave your people their rituals, regalia, and sacred symbols for survival. Two arrows are for the people and two for the animals. This is the sign for your tribe,” she said, and made it by drawing her right forefinger across her left one several times to indicate “Striped Arrows.”

  “You know much for one who lives apart from others,” he observed. “It is wise to learn the ways of friends and enemies. This is a good day to work; the sun is warm; the land is green; the buffalo gather; we are good companions.”

  “All you say is true. We will gather our things and hunt.” As they did so, Kionee watched the man she loved from the corner of her eye. He possessed such self-confidence, prowess, and sensuality. He was a mixture of rough and smooth, tough and tender, wild and tamed, giving and taking, pride and humility. He was irresistible. “You smile and laugh much this sun; you did not speak much on the past one.”

  “My head was busy with plans for our task. We ride soon.”

  “In two suns. You are eager to race the wind and seek challenges?”

  “I am eager to begin our big task,” to be alone with you. “We—”

  A rider suddenly entered camp in a hurry and shouted bad news: a group of women gathering berries and plants had been captured by Crow raiders, along with their horses. A male guard had been killed and a scalplock taken, but Goes Ahead had witnessed the scene from the bushes where he was relieving himself. “I could not fight them; they were six,” he announced. “I came for help. Their garments and symbols were Crow. The man with one eye was not among them; the others did not match those we tricked at the river.”

  “We will save them,” Stalking Wolf vowed. “Goes Ahead, you warn the others that Crow were nearby and may return. Tell them to protect the camp and horses. Join us with Red Bull and Leaning Tree. We ride fast: follow our tracks. Bring food and water, for we will not return without them.”

  As they reached their horses, Kionee told him, “You must not ride White Cloud; he will be seen. Ride Recu instead; he is a good buffalo horse; he is swift and smart and surefooted. I ride Tuka. Maja, stay; no Crow must see you with us,” she commanded the silver wolf who appeared to understand her caution.

  “Goes Ahead said it was not Hawate-Ishte and his band.”

  “If this one escapes while we chase them, they could tell our looks. He could be waiting to join them in their camp. It is risky to expose ourselves.”

  “You are right, Kionee. I will follow your words and ride Recu. We must hurry. They are beyond us but must travel slower with captives.”

  “My sister Blue Bird is with them, Stalking Wolf.”

  He looked at her worried face and offered a smile of encouragement. “Do not fear, Kionee, we will not let the Crow harm her. It is good Runs Fast is hunting; in his fear, his thoughts would be clouded and his daring too large.” The same is true for Night Walker and Little Weasel; their eagerness for coups could provoke recklessness and dangerous actions. I must be careful not to allow your presence in peril to distract me. You are skilled and there is no reason I can give to prevent you from coming with me. Mounted and ready, he cautioned, “Take no risks, Kionee.”

  “I will obey you,” she replied, bewildered and warmed by his tender gaze and tone. “With you at my side, we will defeat them. We go,” she said, and off they galloped to face another dangerous challenge.

  11

  KIONEE AND STALKING WOLF found the women’s discarded pouches and the enemies’ tracks where Goes Ahead had told them to look. They trailed their targets across a stream, along the riverbank, past a forest, and over a span of grassy terrain. They traveled hard and fast to catch up with the raiders before the daring men reached their tribe or other friends along the way. They had paused in a group of trees to study the open area before them; they knew they could not be seen and the damp earth had prevented any revealing dust clouds. There, atop one hill, they saw the band and bound captives.

  “There is a shorter way to them, Stalking Wolf,” Kionee announced. “A hidden opening between the mountains they ride around. Come, I will guide you.”

  He nodded and followed her through a canyon which had appeared impassable to him until they weaved their way beyond a dense thicket and toppled boulders that obscured its entrance. The space between the ridges was winding and narrow, but wide enough for their horses to traverse in single file. They reached their destination before the Crow came into view, and set a trap.

  As Kionee had hoped, the band halted at the seep nearby to rest and water their horses and themselves. The bound females were pushed to the ground near several large boulders and ordered to be quiet and still. The frightened, weary, and thirsty women obeyed. The warriors drank first, removing and laying aside their weapons as they did so. The men seemed to feel it was safe to halt and relax. Kionee pulled her gaze from her sister’s pale face to ready herself for action.

  The moment the men gathered to one side to talk and joke while their mounts refreshed themselves, Kionee and Stalking Wolf loosened a rain of arrows on them in rapid and accurate sequence. Taken off guard, the startled warriors could not defend themselves in time to save their lives. Two were struck in their hearts with the first series of arrows. Two more were slain as their heads jerked in the direction of their companions’ cries. As grim reality dawned on the last two foes, they darted toward their weapons, but did not reach them before being taken down by arrows.

  The women screamed and huddled together in panic. Kionee rushed to them and shouted above their noise, “It is Kionee and Stalking Wolf; you are safe; they are dead.” She knelt before her trembling sister and coaxed, “Do not be afraid, Blue Bird, your brother is here. We will take you home. We must hurry before more enemies come and our people worry.”

  Stalking Wolf cut the other women’s bonds as Kionee freed her sister. “Drink, do your private tasks, and mount your horses,” he told them.

  As the nervous women obeyed, Stalking Wolf removed their arrows from the enemies’ bodies to avoid leaving clues. He also collected th
ings he wanted as coups. Though the excised plugs of hair would be small and damage would be minor to the dead men’s heads, he did not take scalplocks in front of the frightened females, as it was not the Hanueva way and might offend them.

  After the women were calmed and mounted, Kionee guided them into the twisting pass. Stalking Wolf was to follow with the Crow horses and conceal their trail for a while. Kionee moved as fast as possible in the restrictive canyon. She wanted to reach the far end and get into the open before the Hanueva party passed that location. After they emerged, she sighted five men beyond them. She yelled to the rescue party and caught their attention.

  Goes Ahead and Gray Fox rode the fastest to join them, as their mates were among those taken by force.

  Summer Lake, sister of Night Walker and Gray Fox, urged her horse forward to meet her beloved, overjoyed and relieved to see him alive and coming after her. As they leaned forward to embrace, she said in a choked voice, “I feared they had slain you.”

  “I saw them from the trees but there were too many for me to battle,” Goes Ahead told her. “I rode to camp for help. Did they harm you?”

  “They did not have time. They are dead. Kionee and Stalking Wolf saved us. We hurried away before others came to attack.”

  The chiefs eldest son grasped his love’s hand and smiled. “I feared we would come too late to rescue you, my flower,” Gray Fox said. “I thank you, Kionee, Stalking Wolf, for this great and brave deed. You saved the lives and honors of my mate, my sister, and the others. My father will be happy to have his daughters returned unharmed.”

  Kionee smiled and nodded, as did the Cheyenne. She saw her sister gaze about for her love and look disappointed to find Runs Fast was not among the group. Kionee whispered to her that the man was hunting and did not know of her capture. If he had learned it by now, he would be coming soon.

  “I would die if he was lost to me,” Blue Bird murmured. “He is like the air I breathe, the sun which warms me, the food which feeds me. I could not become a captive mate to our enemy. Thank you, my brother.”