Tiopa Ki Lakota (22 page)

Kathleen grimaced a little and gave a little shake of her head, looking away. “I cannot, Anpo.” She moved back to the fire and stirred the pot of boiling grains.

She is afraid she will have the dreams again.
Anpo looked down to her bloody hands. The meat had been separated from the skins and it was prepared to cook.
I will protect mahasanni ki while she sleeps.
“I must clean myself,” she told her woman. “You fix the
pispiza
. We will both rest this day.” Handing the meat to Kathleen, her face brooked no argument.

Kathleen peeked up at her warrior as the taller woman rose. “
Ohan

,
winuhca

,” she agreed in a quiet voice. Her heart held a mixture of trepidation for the coming nightmares and caring for this young woman who would insist on taking care of her.
Why do I feel so much more for Anpo than I did Adam?
the blonde wondered as the dark woman made her way to the creek.
And in far less time.

After Anpo had cleaned up and eaten and Kathleen had prepared the meat to be cooked for their evening meal, the warrior took her woman’s hand and led her into the
ti ikceya
. The edges around the base had been rolled up a few inches to allow a summer breeze to cool the interior. The dark woman removed her shirt and moccasins, leaving her breechclout. Settling down onto the sleeping furs, she waved the blonde closer. “Come, Ketlin. You need rest.”

Still shy even after almost two weeks of being in the warrior’s custody, Kathleen tinted a little and looked away as she removed her
cuwignaka

. She knew without looking that Anpo’s dark eyes would take in every inch of her fair skin as they always did. And the blonde still hadn’t decided whether it was good or bad.
Certainly not like anythin’s goin’ ta happen, lass. At least yer safe in that respect!

A distant part of herself mourned the thought.

As the white woman curled up with her, Anpo sighed in contentment.
Her skin on mine feels so...
, and she searched for the word.
Right. It feels so right.
Wanting to increase the contact, the warrior turned on her side and cuddled closer, draping a long arm across her woman’s waist. “Try to sleep,
winuhca
. I will be here when you wake.”

Kathleen rolled over, as well, facing her warrior and tucking her head beneath a dark chin. She felt the arm snake around her side and a hand rub her back in a gentle, soothing motion. As any tired child, reluctant to sleep, the blonde forced her eyes to remain open. Noting the pulse jumping in Anpo’s neck, her hands reached up to finger the necklace of quills and wooden beads that hung around it.

Anpo continued her caresses, knowing that the woman in her arms didn’t sleep. Finally, she asked, “What is it, Ketlin? What worries cloud your mind?”

There was a sigh followed by silence.

“Ketlin?”

Frowning as she tried to formulate her thoughts into questions, Kathleen sighed again. Just as the dark woman began pulling away to peer down at her, she hastily spoke up to forego the movement. “What happens when the baby arrives?”

The warrior relaxed and returned to her position, blonde hair beneath her chin. “You want to know how our women have children?”

There was a nod and a muffled, “
Ohan
.”

“When a woman is with child and ready to give birth, she calls her
ina

to help her. The shaman and the medicine man also help with the birth.” Anpo considered what she knew of her own birth. “Since your
ina
is not here, my
ina
will help in her place. The medicine man, He, will chant spells and prepare you, giving you medicines if you need them. Inyan will protect the child from evil spirits that wish to invade it once it is born.”

“And then what?”

There was a slight shrug. “Then the baby is born. Inyan will be the one to hold it as it comes from your
san

and he will know what the child will be.” Changing the topic slightly, Anpo said, “I was the first child that Inyan ever held and he had a vision of me.”

“A vision? What did he see?” the blonde asked, wanting to know more of her warrior.

“He said that he heard the scream of the
igmu

when I first cried out. It was he that told my father, Wanbli, that I would be a warrior and hunter.”

Kathleen smiled and nuzzled closer, feeling a sense of pride drift from Anpo. “Do you think he will have a vision with this child?”

“I do not know. Our child will be strong and may bring a vision to a shaman.” She sighed and shook her head. “But, the spirits do not make sense to me. What visions Inyan will see are a mystery and wakan.”

Heart warming at the usage of the word ‘our,’ the blonde asked, “Have you ever had a vision?” Her interest piqued when she felt the woman freeze and watched the vein in her neck beat a double time as her heart rate increased.

With some reticence, Anpo nodded slightly. “I have had a vision,” she admitted.

“What was it about?” the pale woman asked. “Unless you cannot tell me,” she added hastily. “I do not want to... ah...” Her knowledge of the language failed her and Kathleen floundered about for the word that would describe what she meant. In English, she said, “I don’t want ta insult ye, Anpo.”

The musical words washed over Anpo, at odds with the apparent agitation her woman felt. “Shhh,” the warrior said, squeezing her arms tightly around Kathleen. “You have learned our words so well. You will learn them all soon.”

“Not bloody fast enough,” the blonde muttered, her Irish lilt again caressing Anpo’s ears.

Chuckling at the tone, the dark woman pulled her woman closer and rolled onto her back. “You must teach me your words, as well, Ketlin.”

The smaller woman found herself in the usual place, draped across Anpo. Still fighting the need to sleep, though unable to keep her eyes from drifting closed, she asked another question. “How did you see your vision,
winuhca

? Did it just come to you?”

And Kathleen finally fell asleep, hearing the low voice of her warrior telling her a tale of
koskalaka
and
wikoskalaka

and how vision quests were done by each.

Inyan Ceye put the final touches of paint on a rattle he had made from hardened leather. The waning sunlight was still strong but, as he set the item aside, it was blocked by a shadow. Looking up, he found Wi Ile Anpo waiting a respectful distance from his fire.

“
Hau

, Anpo,” he said, waving her forward. “Sit and smoke a pipe with me.”

The warrior nodded and approached, settling down to Inyan’s left.

The shaman’s woman, who had heard his voice, peered out of her
ti

ikceya

before stepping out and offering the young woman a water skin. “Are you hungry, Anpo?”

Accepting the skin, Anpo shook her head. “
Hiya
, Maka. I have already eaten. But thank you for the water.”

Maka nodded and returned to her lodge, allowing her
wicasa

and his guest some privacy.

Lighting the pipe, Inyan puffed on it and waved the smoke closer to his head. He handed the pipe to the young warrior at his fire and watched her do the same. As they smoked in silence, he studied Anpo, comparing her to the
wicincala
she used to be.

Anpo sat strong yet relaxed, an inner peace seeming to fill her very being. Whereas once she was anxious and unsure when she would visit him, today she was firm in her resolve and it showed in her dark eyes.
The pale woman has centered this warrior
, he mused.

Once the pipe was finished, the shaman wrapped it. “What is it you wish of me, Anpo?”

“
Wicahcala
, I would tell you a story.” At the old man’s nod, Anpo inhaled deeply and began. “When I was a child, I thought as a child. I was foolish and did not know the way of adults. After I had my vision, I still was uncertain and unclear, still foolish.” The warrior shrugged slightly, a smile curling the edges of her mouth. “As are all people who are that age.”

Inyan nodded with a smile as well, his eyes asking her to continue.

“Things have changed this season,
wicahcala

. I am no longer a child. I have seen my vision come to life. I have slain
tatanka

ska

and am joined with the yellow haired woman of my vision. I will become a parent, raising our child in the Lakota way.” Anpo paused, her eyes searching the horizon as she tried to come up with the words. “I have asked this once, before I had my vision. I was denied. I will not ask it again.” The dark woman shook her head, her face solemn. “I
demand
to participate in the Sun Dance.”

The shaman nodded slightly again. He examined the
wikoskalaka
before him, again noting the differences in bearing and attitude that had developed in such a short time. “You have much to thank
wakan tanka

for, warrior. Your fortune has been good.” He was silent in contemplation.

Despite her desire to fidget, Anpo held herself still.
Be brave.

“I will teach you what you need for the Sun Dance, Anpo. You will show your honor and respect to
wakan tanka
at summer camp.”

Almost unable to believe her ears, the young woman let out a pent up breath. “
Thank
you,
wicahcala
!
Thank
you!”

“You are welcome, Anpo. Now go. I must prepare.” The shaman waved her away with a mock glare. As the
wikoskalaka

rose and trotted off, a huge grin on her face, Inyan remembered a similar moment. When a
wicincala

was once told she could seek a vision in the way of her father. He smiled to himself.

The smoke from many fires led the people to the summer camp. As she crested a hillock, leading the pony that had been given her by her warrior, Kathleen had to gasp at the number of
ti ikceyas
that were present.
Goodness! There must be hundreds of them!

“
Stepan

,” Hca Wanahca said with a laugh. “Keep walking or we will never get there!”

The blonde blushed as she realized she’d frozen in place. “
Ohan

,
stepan
,” she responded with a rueful smile, continuing along.

Ahead of the women and children were the elders and important men, with Wagmiza Wagna leading the way. All were bedecked in their finest clothing and regalia. Around the rest of their camp the other warriors rode or walked.

Their presence had been spotted by the camp’s inhabitants. Kathleen could see groups of riders heading their way and she suddenly shivered.
What happens when they see me?
she worried, remembering the last few weeks of pinches and hair pulling and unwanted touches. Her dark blue eyes searched for her warrior but were unable to locate her.

Anpo and Nupa, inseparable as always, had ranged ahead of their camp, scouting out the area. They passed around the large camp in the valley below them.

“Look! There are the
Sicangu

,” Nupa pointed out, using his spear. “
Tanksi

, do you remember their warrior who told us the story of wrestling with the spirits?”

The woman smiled. “
Ohan
. And he said he had a scar and showed us the markings on his back.” A sense of excitement was with her and her pony pranced about in response. “I was nine winters.”

"And I twelve.” Nupa gave a false shudder. “I was unable to sleep for days after.”

Anpo laughed and nodded. “Me, too,
tiblo

! I expected the spirit to come from the other world and attack me!”

They continued on their path, remembering other times as they checked the perimeter. Soon they had swung back around, seeing Wagmiza Wagna leading their people down the slope and towards the encampment below.

Anpo’s eyes searched for her woman and found her, the yellow hair shining in the sun. She also saw the front-runners from the camp riding towards her people. “I must go to Ketlin,
tiblo
. She will need me near.”

Nodding, the
koskalaka

agreed. “
Hau
,
tanksi
. Our camp has gotten used to her strange look. There are many more of people here who have not seen yellow hair or pale skin before.”

Surprised, the warrior blinked at him. “I had not thought of that,
tiblo
! I only thought of the many people that Ketlin would not be used to.” Her face became grim and she urged her pony forward. “My
winuhca
will need me to protect her.”

Kathleen kept her head down and swallowed a lump in her throat. The riders had approached and hailed the chief, some stopping to speak with he and the elders that led the camp. The remainder of them, young warriors full of excitement, circled the group, whooping and hollering. Several started up conversations with other warriors of the camp, but a few had noticed her.

Four of these had ridden their ponies right up to her, their hooves prancing about dangerously close to her feet. Her own horse tried to shy away and Kathleen spent a great deal of energy holding onto his reins to keep him from bolting at the sudden attention. She could hear Gi and Hca haranguing the riders for their rudeness, though it appeared to do no good.