Destiny Mine (15 page)

After final waves were exchanged, Kionee, Stalking Wolf, Leaning Tree, and Yar headed in the opposite direction from the departing tribe. Maja loped beside Kionee and Tuka, ever watchful for danger.

The journey was under way.

* * *

Three days later, the scouting party halted to camp at the base of the mountains of the big horn animals where it was ten suns’ travel to the yellow stone land, wintering ground for the Crow. Red cliffs and white sandstone hills presented an awesome sight. Their journey had been quite easy in the canyon of wind nestled between two ranges and across the rocky terrain of black slate outcroppings they had just traversed. Scrubs and grass were abundant, as were colorful and fragrant wildflow-. ers. The scent of countless pines wafted on clear and pleasant air. Water was plentiful, most of it a vivid blue like the sky above it. Snow was visible on the highest peaks and in deep crevices northeast of them. Game roamed the vast forest beyond and frequented the benchland nearby, but there was no need to hunt this day. Many species of birds and insects were busy hunting food, mating, and building nests. Red, blue, and green dragonflies whose iridescent wings were patterned like spider webs glided, hovered, and performed loops on air currents. It was a wildly beautiful and verdant spot to spend the night.

The signs were apparent to all four that a large Crow party had camped there many days ago. There were no messages left on trees, in rock piles, or by grass knots, so they assumed there were no stragglers left behind as scouts or raiders. From the direction they had taken, they knew the Crow had chosen the easiest canyons and passes to use to reach their final destination.

Kionee, Stalking Wolf, Yar, and Leaning Tree ate
honovohko
and
ame
and drank water from the river. The dried meat and pemmican were necessary trail food as they dared not make a fire. If the night turned cool as was probable this time of year so close to the whitecapped mountains, they had buffalo hides upon which
to sleep and robes with which to cover themselves. Besides, no worthy hunter or warrior ever complained of being tired, hungry, thirsty, or afraid; to do so made him appear weak in body and prowess.

Stalking Wolf gave clear instructions to Leaning Tree and Yar; “When the sun rises, you will travel along the red fork of the river of Powder. Cross to the south fork and go to meet your people near the badlands of flaming rocks. Look for tracks which say others do the same. If you see Bird Warriors sneaking to find and attack your people, do not challenge them if they are many. Circle their party, ride fast, and give warning. If Hanuevas have passed that area, check for Crow tracks following them. Hawate-Ishte and others are sly and eager; I believe they will shadow your tribe and nip at their heels for horses and coups and captives. Warn Night Walker to be alert and ready to battle them. Tell your chief and council we follow the big Crow party along the north fork to the grasslands. After we see where they camp for the first hunt and count their number, we will join you.”

“It is a good plan, Stalking Wolf, and we will obey.”

“Thank you, Leaning Tree; your tribe’s survival is in our hands on these early suns. With Our People as allies, Crow will not slay or raid them.”

They talked a while longer before they settled down beneath a waxing half-moon. Yar and Leaning Tree went to sleep within minutes. Stalking Wolf pretended to do the same, but his thoughts were too consumed by Kionee, and the reality of being alone with her the following day.

Kionee kept her breathing slow and even to conceal her restless state. For the past three days, the short distance kept between riders to be ready to react speedily to danger and enforced attention to their surroundings had saved her from concentrating on their leader. But now that they were so close…

Maja lay beside her, providing warmth and protection and comfort. As Kionee’s fingers nestled into the animal’s ruff she felt the beaded collar she had placed around his neck to make certain the Cheyenne people knew he was a pet when they reached the joint encampment. She thought about the collection of
kims
that were hidden in a small cave near their winter living grounds, left behind to prevent breakage and the extra work of transporting and guarding them on the plains. She recalled the repaired cracks in hers and wondered if she should hope and pray they held fast. If the Spirit Vessel crumbled, her female essence would soar in freedom. But for now, she was with Stalking Wolf and should enjoy his companionship; she did not want to think about how soon their time together would end, forever.

D
URING THE NEXT TWO DAYS,
Stalking Wolf and Kionee journeyed at a tranquil pace as they rode northeast while her friends headed southeast. They did not want to catch up with the Crow; they only needed to learn where the enemy would camp on the plains and how large their band was. On a separate path from Leaning Tree and Yar, the quiet and watchful couple traveled into the lofty range which was forested with aspen, pine, juniper, fir, and other trees. They made their way over grassy knolls, sharp ridges, through canyons, over passes, around piles of boulders, and across short flower-filled meadows where deer and antelope grazed. Sandstone bluffs were covered in dense stands of tall pines and spruce. Red rimrocks and gray cliffs made a startling contrast against the expanse of green below and azure above.

Waterholes and seeps bubbled and pooled at the foot of the cliffs and fish were plentiful in the many streams and rivers. Small animals bathed and drank in shallows along verdant banks. A vivid blue sky was clear of ominous dark clouds. The wind was brisk and air was cool. In the distance to the north, snowcapped pinnacles dazzled in brilliant sunlight at midday and softened in the sunset’s fading glow.

While the trip was physically undemanding for Kionee, the company of the handsome and virile warrior was extremely exciting. Soon they would make camp for their second night alone, and she did not know how or for how much longer she was going to be able to continue her deception. Kionee’s wayward heart begged her to tell him the truth, but she dared not relent to the yearning to expose herself, or yield to her desire for him. Every moment spent with him was a mixture of bliss and anguish.

Kionee watched him furtively. He sat tall and straight on his horse. His unadorned buckskin vest did not conceal the strength and beauty of his torso. His back and shoulders were broad and hard, and covered with dark and smooth flesh; his arms were muscular and strong. His flowing golden-brown mane was clean and shiny. She smiled in pleasure as mischievous winds lifted and played with strands of it. His waist was narrow and firm; his legs, long. She caught glimpses of skin and hipbones where his leggings were attached to his breechclout belt. Those two garments and his moccasins also were unadorned with beadwork. He had told her the plain clothing was worn to prevent revealing his tribal identity and rank if they were sighted by enemies. He was so cunning and wise, so skilled and strong, so fearless and generous. Just the sight of him made her heart beat rapidly. Imagine how she would feel if he took her in his embrace…

Kionee glanced at the encompassing terrain to calm herself, as she was becoming aroused just looking at him and thinking such forbidden thoughts. They had not talked much since their journey began; both realized how reckless it was to let their attention stray when flanking Crow scouts could be lurking ahead. She let him be the leader, the one who checked the tracks and watched for messages left behind. Rarely had he paused
to look back at her or even glance over his shoulder. He appeared in tight control of himself and the situation.

Kionee’s stomach told her it was nearing meal time. Roots, berries, and edible plants were abundant in this territory, and she had collected some during rest stops to eat at a later time. She knew from observation while guarding Hanueva women which ones were safe to consume and could be eaten raw, as a cook fire remained a hazard they could not risk. Yet, what she longed to taste were his lips, and to feast herself full in his arms.

Kionee saw Stalking Wolf halt, so she reined in her pinto. He twisted on his horse, propped a hand on the animal’s haunch, and told Kionee it was time to camp. She followed him off the well-worn trail and into the forest to a stream where she dismounted and unloaded her belongings while he did the same. Tuka was well trained and loyal, so she left him untethered to graze and drink, to be free to escape if danger came. She ruffled the fur on Maja’s neck and allowed the silver wolf to go hunting and roaming; she knew he would return to her side before departure.

After eating their sparse meal, Kionee and Stalking Wolf reclined on their mats.

“What tribe did your blood father belong to?” Kionee asked. “You said he was not Cheyenne. How did he join to a chiefs daughter?”

Stalking Wolf was glad she wanted to know more about him, but hoped his mixed bloods would not matter to her. “My father’s name was Adam Stone. He was a man with white skin who came to our land from far away to trap beaver and other animals for their pelts. A band of Crow stole his possessions and he tracked them. He found them attacking a small hunting party of Our People and helped defeat the Bird raiders. They took him to our camp and he stayed with them for many moons. He honored and accepted the Indian ways and
became a friend. The Strong Hearts made him a blood brother and he lived and trapped near our tribe. He won my mother’s heart and eye, and Big Hump allowed them to join. Her name was Morning Flower. Others have told me she was craved by many warriors for her beauty and rank and gentleness.”

Stalking Wolf watched water flow in the nearby creek as he revealed his history to her. “I do not remember my parents; they were slain by Crow when I was two winters’ old. We lived in a wooden tipi, what his people call a cabin, on the river near the Medicine Bow mountains and forest. Mother was gathering plants and berries when the Crow attacked. She hid me in my cradleboard in a tree and went to help Father, for she was skilled with a bow and knife and her love for him was as large as the sky. Flying Eagle, her brother, found me two suns’ later and took me to Grandfather’s camp and tipi. I was raised by him and the Strong Hearts as Big Hump’s adopted son, as a hunter and warrior. When I was found, I was wrapped in a wolf skin, so Grandfather named me Little Wolf and I was no longer called Joshua Stone, my white name. In my visionquest, I was told to take the name of Stalking Wolf, to take the wolf as my spirit sign and helper. Many seasons later, Flying Eagle and his mate were killed by Bird Warriors while camped on the grasslands. Their son, Five Stars, was adopted by Grandfather and we became brothers. Flying Eagle’s death was avenged by his friends, but we still do not know who killed my parents. When I find the man who wears a hairlock like the blazing sun, I will know who slayed them.”

Kionee realized that his hair was lighter than an Indian’s because of his father’s legacy. And the color of Adam Stone’s eyes must have made Stalking Wolfs a tawny shade instead of brown like his mother’s. She thought about his quest If the attacker had taken
possessions as coups or to place in his medicine pouch, the killer could be exposed when those belongings were found, if the man still lived. It was possible the man had since died or been killed during a battle.

“It is sad to lose parents at such a young age,” she said wistfully. She knew that terrible feeling from experience: when she was five, she was taken from her home and parents’ arms and forced to live and train with
tiva
elders until she reached sixteen. It had taken her a while not to feel abandoned and afraid, to put aside girlish things to become as a boy, to learn to mask her true feelings as she was compelled to mask her appearance. Kionee discarded those bad memories for now.

She looked at Stalking Wolf and said, “It is good your grandfather took you as his own son and you have a brother like Five Stars. The moon will come when you will have your revenge;
Atah
will guide you to the Bird Warrior who took their lives, for such evil must be punished.”

The warrior locked his gaze on Kionee. He longed to view her lovely face without the colorful guise. He craved to caress her soft skin and stroke her unbound hair. He yearned to hold her and kiss her, to make her his in all ways. Surely she was the woman in his vision and dreams who would become his mate. How he would win her, he did not know, but he was going to do everything within his power to capture her heart. “That is what the visions of Medicine Eyes and Stalking Wolf told us this season. Our shaman is never wrong; his words and dreams always come true.”

Kionee was touched by the tender expression in the man’s eyes and on his face. He could be so gentle for someone so strong. It would be joyous to press her mouth to his, to be held in his embrace, to lie with him on the joining mat. She had overheard whispers between men and women about the pleasures of uniting
bodies, and she longed to experience them with Stalking Wolf. She realized from his curious look that she must be staring at him oddly so she lowered her gaze and asked, “Those are the same visions which told you a Hanueva will do a great deed for your people? That is why you were sent to protect us and why we were asked to camp with the Strong Hearts on the grasslands?”

As Stalking Wolf nodded, he barely controlled a potent urge to seize her and kiss her; the way she watched him stirred his already kindled passions to blazing life. He was convinced now that she desired him, and that conclusion caused his heart to soar with happiness, but he must not reach out to her too soon. He did not wish to offend her or frighten her away. They had many similarities, yet many differences, and there was a great obstacle between them to be conquered. She took her
tiva
vow and duty seriously, and he must not treat them lightly. When he trusted his voice not to betray his emotions, he said, “The visions did not tell us who would do the deed or what it will be.”

“Atah
knows all things; He will guide the chosen one’s path.”

Maja returned and lay beside Kionee’s mat, placing himself between the two people as if determined to keep them apart. He rested his muzzle across Kionee’s outstretched arm and relaxed when she used her other hand to stroke his head and neck. He wriggled closer to her and closed his eyes, as if to dream of running in the forest with a she-wolf.

“We must sleep,” Kionee murmured.

“Rest well, my friend and companion.”

They traveled along the North Fork of the Powder River, so named because the dirt became like dust when handled. Winters were always milder along riverbanks
which were guarded against harsh nature by rimrocks, cliffs, and sloping ranges. In the cold season and early spring, winds howled through the canyons and through passes like a pack of starving wolves on the chase and blizzards often buried everything in sight. In late summer, sudden and violent thunderstorms sent water sweeping over their banks and carrying away anything in its path. There were sections where bogs, quicksand, and flash floods could devour man and beast. Aware of those perils, Kionee and Stalking Wolf traveled with caution.

Game thrived in this area where water, grass, plants, berries, and trees were abundant. Deer, antelope, and other creatures grazed in juniper-scented draws. Moose and elk feasted in wetlands and peaceful meadows. Wildflowers were everywhere. Sage and rabbitbrush dotted the landscape.

Ancient rock cairns marked the trails, but the couple did not need them for direction. They continued to follow the tracks of the enemy band; from the marks in the dirt, the doused campfires, and condition of broken grasses, they estimated the Crow to be two days ahead of them.

Suddenly Stalking Wolf halted, turned, and gazed behind them. “Two riders follow us. Come, we will trap them.” He was pleased when Kionee obeyed without hesitation or doubt. He guided them to a side river and told her, “Ride into the edge, turn fast, and leave the water there.” He pointed to an area where dense brush was near the bank with a thick cover of trees behind it. “The Crow will think we crossed here. They will be fooled and will follow and be snared by the eating sand. We must hurry. Be careful. Go no farther out than an arm’s length.”

Kionee guided Tuka into the river and stayed close to the bank as she walked the pinto downstream. She kept
Maja close and opposite of harm’s way. She urged the horse up the bank, and Maja followed with an agile leap. She watched Stalking Wolf do the same and join her.

They dismounted and hid the animals, then concealed their tracks. They ducked out of sight as two Crow warriors came into view, both leaning over to study the ground for signs. One pointed to the river and said their targets must have seen them coming and had crossed to elude them. The two men were excited to have them on the run and heading into an apparent box canyon ahead. Both galloped into the water as if each was trying to be first to reach their goals to earn the coups and possessions.

Kionee watched as the horses staggered, whinnied, and became wide-eyed in panic as they grasped their peril. Both riders were unseated and the animals struggled backward, somehow escaping the threat their owners could not. Kionee hated to watch their futile attempts to survive, but the enemies would have slain them if caught and would still do so if she and Stalking Wolf helped them escape.

Soon it was over, and Kionee lifted her gaze once more. She watched her companion unload, unbridle, and free the two horses. She joined him.

“We cannot take them with us. They could endanger us by not obeying our commands when we near the Crow camp in secret. They are strong and smart; they will survive in this good land.”

“You are wise and cunning, Stalking Wolf,” she said in agreement.

“Come. We cross to the Red Fork. We will ride its waters to hide our trail and plan if others come behind us to reach their people. Perhaps some warriors remained longer at Medicine Mountain to seek visions at the Great Wheel or were off hunting or raiding when their
tribe left. Fresh tracks atop old ones of their band will be seen and followed. We take no risks.”

Since other stragglers might be trying to catch up or could be riding as flanking scouts Kionee agreed it was best to leave the tribe’s trail for a while and pick it up in a few days downriver where the Red limb joined the Middle branch which joined the North Fork. This way, they could conceal their presence and intention, and they could relax their constant guard temporarily. After six suns of being on full alert, that plan suited her fine.

The following night, Maja brought a rabbit into camp and dropped it at Kionee’s feet. She smiled and knelt to stroke the beloved animal. “You are good and cunning, my friend, but we cannot make a fire to cook it. I will skin it for you and keep the pelt, for it is unharmed, my fine hunter.”