Destiny Mine

by Janelle Taylor

  The Crow hurled himself at his smaller opponent, sidestepped, and slashed out again. He noticed the trick did not cause the tiva to stumble off balance or react with reckless abandon. His eyes brightened with respect for the masked challenger, whose prowess he had misjudged. He knew he did not have time to outwit or wear down the other fighter. He went closer and raised his arm, hoping his rival’s gaze would follow the weapon while he slammed a fist into a vulnerable belly. His ploy failed and he received a stunning wound as the Hanueva ducked, surged forward with speed and agility, and sliced his side in passing.

  Kionee watched the enemy whirl and glare at her. She heard the growls and scuffles and yells of Maja’s fierce battle, but did not dare a look to ensure her beloved creature was unhurt. She knew Big Hump had awakened and was calling out for help amidst the noise. She could hardly believe it when the Crow stormed at her and knocked her backward, for it cost him another injury on his arm. He snatched up the bundle of Four Sacred Arrows his friend had dropped and jumped through the entry hole. She raced after him, pausing only long enough to recover her bow and quiver outside. She yanked out an arrow and continued the chase. Without missing a step, she nocked it and fired. As the shaft left the bow, a drumbeat warned of peril and rousted the sleepers. She heard her target yell out in pain and watched him hit the ground.

  Kionee rushed to where he had fallen and knew a blow from her knife was not necessary; he was dead. Big Hump and Maja joined her as people left their tipis to check on the commotion. She looked up at the elderly man who was staring at them in amazement. She reached for the bundle, then withdrew her hand. “Do you wish me to not touch them?” she asked. “They are sacred to you.”

  “He who saves them is worthy to touch them” was the reply.

  Kionee picked up the bundle and returned it to their Keeper, who clutched it against his bare chest with reverence and joy. She stroked Maja’s head with her fingertips. Without his help, she would not be alive; nor would the man before her; something the chief also understood.

  Big Hump shouted to the onlookers, “The danger is past. I am safe. Morning Light lives. Our enemies did not escape with our Sacred Arrows.”

  The drumming ceased, and more Cheyenne observers arrived. People from her band hurried to the location, awakened and drawn by the noise. Night Walker, Little Weasel, and Red Bull were among them.

  “You are Kionee and Maja of the Hanueva, friends and companions of my adopted son. Stalking Wolf told me of the skilled masked warrior and his cunning animal helper. I am honored you camp with us. Your coups are many and your courage is great.”

  The ever-enlarging crowd parted for Medicine Eyes to approach. Her family, Bear’s Head, Spotted Owl, Regim, Goes Ahead, Taysinga, Runs Fast, and other Hanuevas merged with the group during the chiefs words.

  With a look and in a tone of gratitude and esteem, Big Hump revealed, “This tiva and his wolf saved the life of your chief and saved our Sacred Arrows. Two Crow are dead, one in my tipi, both by their hands and skills.”

  The shaman lifted his hands skyward and said, “The sacred vision is fulfilled: this Hanueva has done a glorious, brave, and generous deed for us. This is why Maheoo told us to protect them. After our hunters and women return, we must have a feast and sing the coups of Kionee and Maja.”

  “It is so,” many Cheyenne agreed aloud.

  “Tell us how you did this deed,” Medicine Eyes said.

  After Kionee complied in their language, Big Hump ordered his braves who were present to place more guards around both camps. “Other Crow may raid or attack while our number is small,” he explained. These were cunning, for they sneaked past those watching us.”

  “It will be done, my chief,” responded the man in charge, who felt shame and weakness at allowing such a dangerous incident to occur.

  Medicine Eyes sensed the man’s torment and said in a gentle tone, “You are not dishonored, Sharp Lance; lift your eyes in pride. This deed was in the hands of Maheoo. When the Crow do not return in victory, their tribe will know we are strong and alert and should not be challenged foolishly. It will make others slow to come. The Great Spirit chose Kionee and Maja for this honor and His will must not be questioned.”

  “We must go to our mats and sleep,” Big Hump said in dismissal. “We will feast and honor our two friends after our people return.”

  The chief thanked Kionee again and stroked Maja’s head after she told the animal his touch was a friendly one. He carried the precious bundle back to his tipi. The Cheyenne returned to their tipis, and the Hanueva walked to their camp.

  After receiving praise from many of her people, Kionee accompanied her family toward their dwelling, with Night Walker close by. She had to repeat the tale for them, and they commended her courage and skills.

  “You risk your life too many times, Kionee,” Night Walker rebuked. “We do not want to lose you to death.”

  Without even glancing at him, she said, “I can follow no path except the one Atah makes for me. If He did not want me to save the Cheyenne chief, He would not have shown the enemies to Maja or sent Maja to guide me to that peril.”

  “You should not walk into danger alone and outnumbered.”

  Kionee was fatigued, and annoyed. If he had been the victor tonight, she fumed, he would feel differently. “There was no time to summon others, and Maja was at my side,” she snapped. “We are skilled fighters, and we have proven ourselves in past battles with greater numbers of enemies. It is the duty of a guardian to protect others, with his life if Atah so wills it. If you had sighted the Crow, you would have gone alone.”

  “My son is tired,” Martay told Night Walker. “He must rest. Speak to him again on the new sun when his head is clear and he is calm.”

  For the first time in her life, Kionee almost had to bite her tongue to keep from scolding her mother for daring to make an excuse for her behavior. When Martay looked at her as if to say, You should not do that to him, Kionee narrowed her gaze in warning and stared at the woman for a moment without smiling, then quickened her pace to reach home. She put away her weapons and stretched out on her mat. When her family arrived, she rolled to her side away from them and closed her eyes to let them know not to disturb her. She called forth images of Stalking Wolf to comfort her until she could become a captive of slumber and lovely dreams.

  When Kionee’s pattern of breathing told Strong Rock she was asleep, he whispered a reprimand to Martay, “Do not ever speak to our son before others in such an angry way. It is shameful and wrong.”

  “Kionee should not speak with sharp tongue to the son of our chief. Have you not guessed he desires our child as a woman? After the last hunt, he will come to ask for her in joining. Our law says it can be done. She will be freed of her rank and will face no more dangers which can take her from us.”

  Strong Rock noticed Martay used “she” many times and that troubled him. “That does not change what you did this moon. Kionee is no longer a child to be punished with words or deeds. He is our hunter and guardian. Since I can no longer do my duty, our son took my place as the leader of our family. No woman speaks to a family leader as you did. And, you spoke to Night Walker without asking permission.”

  “I am sorry, Strong Rock, but I forgot my talking-feather in our rush to leave. I acted without thinking out of shame for Kionee’s actions.”

  “You also forget Kionee was tired and tense from a death battle. You must ask our son’s forgiveness when light returns and you must not do these bad things again. Now, tell me of Night Walker’s desire for Kionee.”

  Martay related her speculations and observations about the young man’s feelings and intentions, and confessed that she had spoken of all this to their child.

  “You must not mention anything to Kionee again about leaving his rank, even to join to a chiefs son or to protect his life. Do not fill his head with confusion. Do not blind him to Atah’s will with your desires to regain a daughter or to pull him from a perilous trail. That is for the Creator
to choose and for Kionee to agree. Do you wish her to join to Night Walker if she does not feel love and passion for him as we do for each other?”

  Martay dared not mention her suspicions about Kionee and Stalking Wolf, for she had no proof she was right. Even if she was, that did not mean the warrior could lure their child away from them. She prayed she was wrong, as breaking their law would endanger Kionee’s life. Whether or not Kionee was guilty of wrongdoing, Martay knew she could not bring about Kionee’s exposure and punishment, for she loved her daughter. Too, they needed the Cheyenne people’s protection for survival during the hunt; to accuse the adopted son of the Strong Heart chief of trying to ensnare their child would be an insult that could break their bond. Perhaps, Martay excused her behavior, those fears were why she was pushing Kionee toward the safety of Night Walker’s arms.

  After a patient moment Strong Rock asked his question again, Martay said, “No. I only wish for our child to be safe in the perilous suns ahead. As Night Walker’s mate, that would be true. He would be a good son to us.”

  “Kionee’s happiness is more important, Martay. Our son has given up much to take care of us. He has earned many deeds of courage and generosity for his sash. If Night Walker does not catch his eye and heart, he cannot become a woman again to join to him to please you. That is fair and that is our law.”

  Martay realized her mate had forgotten or had discarded his previous concerns about Kionee and Stalking Wolf, and she should do the same. She should rely on her trust in and love for Kionee to convince her not to worry. “You are right, Strong Rock. I will speak no more about it.”

  “That is good. We must sleep now, for there is work on the new sun.”

  Kionee, who had been listening silently, smiled to herself in joy and relief at her father’s words. She had feared her mother would convince him to help persuade her to join with Night Walker. Now, she told herself, she could relax and sleep in peace. But a new worry came to her: Had Martay hesitated to answer Strong Rock’s last question because she suspected something had happened between Kionee and Stalking Wolf? Kionee cautioned herself to do and say nothing to increase her mother’s concerns. Exhausted, she slept at last.

  Two days later, the Cheyenne hunting party returned and was told the astonishing news about the Crow raid.

  Stalking Wolf yearned to rush to Kionee’s side to make certain she was safe and unharmed. But he could not. With one rash move, he reasoned, he could destroy the truce between them, an alliance needed for his love’s and her people’s survival. He told himself he would see her soon at the feast. Iftivas are allowed to come, his mind shouted in anger. How, his heart argued, can they refuse when she is to be honored? Help unite us as one, Great Spirit, for she is my destiny and I love her.

  The moment Stalking Wolf craved arrived when the Hanuevas reached the edge of their camp and the tivas were with them, wearing their ceremonial masks and best garments. He struggled against the almost overpowering urge to go speak with Kionee, but warned himself he must not approach the group which sat down together near a large campfire as directed by his shaman. He watched the rest of her tribe take places to the tivas’ left. As everyone was getting settled, he calmed a little when he sensed Kionee’s sly gaze on him. Without looking at the source of his desire, he smiled and nodded his awareness.

  On the other side of the large fire sat the Cheyenne chief, council of forty-four, and the society leaders. Behind them were the warriors and braves, followed by women and children.

  As the last rays of daylight touched the grasslands, Medicine Eyes stood in the center of the enormous circle of people and began the event. He lifted the ceremonial buffalo skull and asked for the Great Spirit’s guidance and protection and thanked their creator for life, successes on the first two hunts, and divine intervention during the Crow attack.

  Kionee watched with interest as the shaman prayed and chanted; sometimes his words were clear and other times they were like mere sounds. His expression and tone were solemn; his mood, reverent and respectful. His face and hands were lined by weather and aged and his flowing mane was more gray than black. His brown eyes beneath thick brows wore small white clouds. There was a slight bend to his back and rounding of his shoulders. The fringes on his shirtsleeves swayed from his movements. It was evident he was loved, esteemed, and trusted by his people.

  Kionee allowed her gaze to roam the Strong Heart band with its seasoned warriors. She saw Stalking Wolf with the Dog-Men, the largest and most powerful and respected society. As were those near him, he was clad in their chosen regalia: red-striped leggings, eagle-bone whistle around his neck, and a striking headdress, which was made of four tailfeathers from a golden eagle. Those from hawk and crow filled its sides; and all feathers stood erect and were attached to a beaded band. The Dog-Men held ceremonial rattles and their faces and torsos were painted red. Most of them were barechested; a few had donned buckskin shirts with hairlocks, evincing the fact they had performed heroic deeds for their tribe. Some wore beaded bands around their upper arms or on their wrists. So many warriors clad in their finest garments or different regalias was an awesome sight. It made her glad they were allies.

  Big Hump stood after Medicine Eyes took a seat on a willow mat. He called Kionee forward to join him. He handed his rescuer an eagle feather with two red dots painted on one side. “It is a coup feather; it says you killed two enemies in hand battle at great risk to your life. Wear it with pride on your headband when you remove your ceremonial mask. For saving my life and our Sacred Arrows, I give you a captive to help with your work. I will call them forward and you will choose the one you want.”

  Kionee picked her words with care so she would not insult him and his tribe. “I thank you, Big Hump, but it is not the Hanueva way to have captives. Atah commanded us to be a people of peace and to fight only in defense. Please keep her as my gift to you for your protection of my people.”

  Stalking Wolf had explained the customs and ways of the Hanueva to him, so Big Hump did not take offense at the refusal. “It will be so. I also give you ten buffalo hides, tanned by my mates. I give you this necklace which says you are a friend to Big Hump and the Strong Hearts. Our tribes will be bonded forever in friendship. Your people are invited to live close to mine near the forest of the Medicine Bow wood, out of the Bird Warriors’ reach and under our shadow of protection.”

  “You are kind and good and generous, Big Hump, but my people must return to the land where the Creator-High Guardian placed us. That is where He told us to live in the cold seasons. We honor your friendship.”

  “If danger comes, summon the Strong Hearts to help you.”

  “We will do so, and we thank you.”

  Kionee and Big Hump returned to their places. Five Stars and three other men entered the circle to reenact the Crow attack and to chant Kionee’s coup. The next chief played Kionee’s part, two played the Crow raiders, and one donned a wolf pelt to perform Maja’s role. Everyone watched with interest and pleasure as the “enemies” were defeated again.

  Kionee was filled with elation and surprise to be so honored. She looked at her parents and smiled, for they were gazing at her with deep emotions tugging at their hearts. From the corners of her eyes, she saw Night Walker’s gaze on her, too, but she refused to return it. She wished she could enjoy this special event sitting beside Stalking Wolf. She feared to even glance at him and allow a softened expression to betray her true feelings. They were so close in distance and so far apart in many ways.

  When the men finished, Kionee nodded her appreciation to them. The feast ensued, and she concentrated on eating and talking with friends. She tensed when she noticed the chiefs grandsons heading toward her. She struggled for poise when they stopped before her. Five Stars presented her with a beaded wristlet and a hairpipe choker. Stalking Wolf gave her a sienna shirt with beaded designs, in her size.

  “These are gifts to thank you for saving the life of our father and chief and for saving our Sacred Arrows,” the youngest
man said.

  “I thank you, my friends and allies,” she responded.

  “Enjoy the feast and tell us if you have need of anything.”

  “Thank you, Stalking Wolf, but I have more than I can eat and drink. My heart is so filled with happiness, speaking is hard.”

  The two Cheyenne nodded in understanding and left.

  It was a strain for Kionee to keep her gaze and thoughts off her secret lover. He appeared so wild and sensual tonight in his society regalia. The red paint on his face did not hide his good looks; nor did the covering of it on his torso mask his virile physique. He moved and held himself with an undeniable air of self-confidence, pride, and control. There was no doubt he was a man of abundant skills and courage. To think of never kissing, touching, holding, viewing, and surrendering to him again was torment.

  Kionee was relieved when Red Bull, Leaning Tree, and Runs Fast came to visit with her, distracting her from anguish and yearnings. The remainder of the evening passed in swiftness and in resignation to her fate. When the time came, she gathered the gifts and returned to Strong Rock’s tipi and a lonely sleeping mat.

  The next three days were consumed by many chores; including preparations for Blue Bird’s tipi. Kionee had given the ten hides from Big Hump to her sister to add to the number required, nearly complete now. Cooking, fetching water, tending horses, and gathering fuel were daily tasks.

  During those busy days, Kionee noticed how often Shining Star visited them and guarded the women during chores away from camp. He could not seem to keep his gaze off Moon Child, who had blossomed like a flower since winter departed and she became seventeen. The same was true for her youngest sister: the girl appeared to be in love with the hunter who would reach twenty circles of the seasons soon. It was clear to Kionee that the man would be playing the flute for her sister before they left the plains or shortly afterward.