Twin Willows: A Novel (13 page)

Anna had anticipated her father’s reaction, but she had hoped he might change his mind when he saw how much it meant to her. However, the set of his jaw told her that no amount of pleading would move him. So Ian McKnight had always been, and so he was still. Once he made up his mind, there was no changing it.

Anna made no attempt to disguise her disappointment. “I still want to go there. Maybe things will change soon,” she said.

“I doubt it. Besides, I have responsibilities here now. I canna traipse off into the wilderness on a whim. I’m sorry. I know how much it meant to you, but please forget about it, lass.” Ian McKnight stood. “I’m going to find my wife.”

Too late, Anna realized that her words had somehow hurt her father’s feelings. She followed him to the door and called after him to return, but Ian McKnight strode away without looking back.

Anna was still considering how she could smooth her father’s feelings when he returned. He crossed the room and embraced her.

“Ah, Anna Willow, forgive me. Ye can stay here as long as ye like and if ye decide ye want to go back East, I’ll see ye safely there as soon as I’m free to go. But I will not take ye beyond the Ohio.”

“I understand,” Anna replied, her spirits rising. “It’s all right.”

Yet Anna’s heart silently denied her words.
Someday it will be as I have always dreamed
, she told herself.
I will yet see my mother’s land
.

W
ACCACHALLA

To Willow, the waxing and waning of the moon had never seemed to take so long as when she waited for the time that she and Bear’s Daughter would journey to the land of her birth. She felt glad that Otter was absent from the village with a war party, but she worried that Bear’s Daughter had not gained as much strength as Willow had hoped.

“This journey will be hard, my mother,” Willow said the morning they were to leave, when simply preparing the last of the food for their backpacks seemed to have exhausted Bear’s Daughter. “I fear that you should not go.”

Bear’s Daughter looked steadily at Willow. “I have not taught you to fear. I will hear no more such talk.”

Dawn had not yet broken when Willow and Bear’s Daughter walked out of the village. Each carried only a backpack with a blanket, a spare pair of moccasins, and a small amount of food. Their journey would take them a few days, and they would need to gather more food on their way.

The sky gradually lightened, and eventually the sun rose in a bright pink sky. After walking for a while, they left behind all familiar landmarks and took a fork that led to an eastern trail.

“I have not seen you so content in many moons, my mother,” Willow remarked.

“Not all will know contentment this day, Littlewillow. Not Otter, who will bring a fine deer to an empty lodge.”

“You know that he does this?” Willow asked.

“Ayee, Black Snake told me that it will be so. That is why we left on this day.”

Instead of taking satisfaction in imagining Otter’s displeasure, Willow feared its consequences. “What if Otter should follow us?”

“He will not. Otter is a warrior and he must serve his chief. He will not track us.”

“So may it be,” Willow said, unconvinced.

More than once that day Willow looked back uneasily, half expecting to see Otter coming after her on his black horse. One did not safely cross such a man. There were tales about how warriors waited for many cycles of the moon to surprise their enemies, and then, when they no longer expected it, took their revenge.

Bear’s Daughter glanced at Willow as if she knew her thoughts. “You must not think of Otter. He can disturb you only if you allow him into your mind.”

“It is a wise saying.”

Bear’s Daughter nodded. “You will see, Littlewillow. A good man will take you into his lodge and you will be glad of it.”

Will I?
Willow didn’t want to think about such a time. For the moment, it was enough that the man wouldn’t be Otter.

The sun was just past the middle of its journey across the sky when Willow’s keen hearing alerted her to the sound of horses, still at some distance to the north.

“Someone rides this way, my mother.”

Bear’s Daughter stopped and raised her head like an animal taking a scent. “Step behind those bushes and watch. Tell me what your young eyes see.”

A band of warriors rode into view, and from the colors and patterns of their war paint, Willow told Bear’s Daughter they were Shawnee, but not from Waccachalla.

“Show yourself,” her mother said. “I would know where they are bound.”

Just before the riders reached the women’s hiding place, Willow stood to her full height and took a step toward the trail. The lead warrior sharply reined in his horse and stared at her in surprise. While his attention was thus diverted, Bear’s Daughter calmly stepped forward and seized his horse’s bridle.

“Greetings, warrior. What is your village? Where go you in this war paint?”

Some of the Shawnee behind him laughed, and one or two made remarks that Willow couldn’t hear. She guessed they were making fun of her mother, and she watched to see how the young lead warrior would handle the situation.

Signaling for the others to be quiet, he slid off his horse. He faced Bear’s Daughter and nodded as a gesture of respect. To Willow’s surprise, the warrior matched her height almost exactly, and she wondered if he really could be Shawnee.

If this warrior brought a deer to our lodge, I would not turn him away
. Willow dismissed the thought almost as soon as it formed, but from the way Bear’s Daughter looked at him, there was no denying that she had also noticed and admired the young warrior’s appearance.

“Greetings, old woman. I am White Eagle. We come from Shawnee Town and go to raid the
Shemanese
. Where are your men, that you travel alone?”

White Eagle. The name suits him very well
, Willow thought. His skin was lighter than that of the Shawnee in Waccachalla—still darker than hers, but of a similar hue. The warrior had a firm jaw and dark, expressive eyes under heavy, straight brows. His long hair fell in a braid down his back, adorned with a single white feather. In preparation for battle, his bare, heavily muscled chest and arms had been rubbed with with oil, and they gleamed in the sun. Altogether, White Eagle’s looks pleased Willow as no other man’s ever had, and she stared at him with more boldness than modesty.

Such a one as this must surely already have taken a wife
, Willow told herself. She judged him to be about year or so older than she, the age when most warriors chose to take wives. His closeness almost dizzied her, and Willow hoped he was too occupied with her mother to notice how rudely she stared at him.

“I am Bear’s Daughter. My daughter
Match-squa-thi
Willow and I have no men. We go to the Muskingum, where once we lived among the Lenni-Lenape Clan of the Turtle.”

Her words brought murmurs from some of the other men in White Eagle’s party, and he raised his hand for silence. “Once I see you and this girl on the Scioto Trail with Black Snake. Why do Shawnee now seek out Delaware?”

Although Bear’s Daughter drew herself up to her full height, the top of her head still didn’t quite reach White Eagle’s collarbone. “Ayee, young warrior, I am Bear’s Daughter, true cousin to the Shawnee chief Black Snake and also kin of the old Delaware chief Bright Horn. We travel to his village.”

White Eagle frowned. “Do you not know that there is much trouble in the Delaware Nation, old woman? This thing you cannot do.”

“Black Snake hears that the chief Netawatawees has taken a new Great Spirit and now calls himself Abraham,” Bear’s Daughter said. “Black Snake would have us see what passes with his friend.”

White Eagle spoke with urgency. “Listen well, old woman. In these sad days you will find no Delaware villages the length of the Muskingum, or on the Tuscarawas or the Walhonding, either.”

Bear’s Daughter frowned. “Black Snake does not know this thing. Why would it be so?”

White Eagle shrugged expressively. “Some Delaware raid in the east, in the places where they lived before the
Shemanese
drove them away. Some go to the Upper Sandusky to get away from the
Shemanese
. But of that chief Netawatawees and all of his people—they no longer live.”

Greatly affected by his words, Bear’s Daughter fell silent, and Willow turned to address White Eagle. “Why is this so? Did the red spots or the pox of the
Shemanese
take them?”

Willow felt her face warm as White Eagle directed the full power of his gaze toward her. He spoke bluntly, as if he wanted to shock her and Bear’s Daughter into realizing the danger in the path they walked. “No. They gave up their
Wishemenetoo
for the
Shemanese
Great Spirit. Then the
Shemanese
killed them all.”

Bear’s Daughter spoke again. “You do not see this thing with your own eyes?”

“I know from one who saw and lived to tell it. Turn back to your village, before you and your daughter come to harm.”

“Why do we waste this time idling with women?” one of the men with White Eagle called out. “Our brothers wait for us.”

White Eagle raised his hand to acknowledge his companion’s words, then nodded to Bear’s Daughter and glanced at Willow. “Will you give your word to go home?” he asked.

Bear’s Daughter nodded stiffly. “We go to Waccachalla, young warrior.”

White Eagle mounted his horse. “Tell Black Snake what I have said. It may be that he and his warriors will raid with us.”

Willow and Bear’s Daughter stood where they were until the men had ridden out of sight; then Bear’s Daughter resumed walking in the direction of the Muskingum.

“The path to Waccachalla lies behind us, my mother,” Willow said. “The warrior said we must not go on this way.”

Bear’s Daughter stared resolutely ahead. “I know not this White Eagle or of his people. I would see with my own eyes if he speaks the truth.”

Willow tried again. “White Eagle would have no reason to tell us of danger unless it is there. You told him that we would return to Waccachalla.”

“Yes, but I do not say when. Now we go on to the Muskingum.”

Willow considered threatening to return to Waccachalla on her own, but the set of her mother’s jaw told her that nothing would keep Bear’s Daughter from finishing this journey, no matter what the danger. Willow could not leave her mother alone.

She nodded, resigned. “Yes, my mother,” she murmured.

As they walked on in silence, Willow puzzled over her mother’s odd behavior.
There is something strange about this journey
, she thought. Bear’s Daughter had never before knowingly put Willow in danger, yet now she seemed determined to ignore White Eagle’s warning and press on to the village on the Muskingum.

My mother must have a strong reason to go there
, Willow decided. Whatever it was, Bear’s Daughter would tell it when she was ready, and not a moment before. Willow sighed and shifted her backpack to a more comfortable position.

As she walked, the image of the warrior White Eagle came into her mind and would not go away. She tried to tell herself it was only because it might be a long time before they saw another friendly face, but she knew that was not the only reason.

I would like to see this warrior when he is not wearing war paint
, Willow thought. Warriors were forbidden to have any physical contact with women once they had readied themselves for the path of war. Had he not been so garbed, Willow wondered if the young Shawnee warrior might have looked at her with more interest.

With such thoughts did Willow pass the time as she walked beside Bear’s Daughter, not allowing herself to feel concern about what awaited.

The red sky that had greeted them at dawning had at first turned fair, but soon after White Eagle’s band rode away, it began to darken with clouds. Despite their best efforts to find cover, a heavy shower soaked Willow and Bear’s Daughter to the skin. Then the rain stopped as suddenly as it began. Willow used the inner part of her blanket to dry them both as well as she could, then wrapped the blanket around Bear’s Daughter’s shoulders.

“You are chilled, my mother. We must find shelter where we can make a fire and dry out.”

Bear’s Daughter shook her head. “We have far to go yet. It is too soon to stop.”

Doggedly they walked on until late afternoon, when Willow found a likely place to make camp just off the main trail, yet screened from view.

“We must have no fire,” Bear’s Daughter warned. Willow understood the need for caution. They did not need to attract attention to themselves.

Willow ate sparingly, giving Bear’s Daughter more than her portion of the venison jerky and pemmican they had brought, the first food they had eaten since leaving their village. Water from a nearby creek slaked their thirst. Willow could find no ripe berries, but she gathered an armful of honeysuckle vines whose flowers were sweet to chew. When they had eaten, Willow used her belt-ax to cut hemlock branches. Piled on the ground and topped with a blanket, the limbs made a soft bed.

“Lie down now, Littlewillow. I will keep watch over you,” Bear’s Daughter said.

“No. You are tired, my mother. You sleep first.”

Somewhat to Willow’s surprise, Bear’s Daughter did not protest. It was a further indication to Willow that her mother was not fully herself. Wrapped in her blanket, Bear’s Daughter fell almost immediately into a deep sleep.

Willow stayed awake as long as she could, but the stars that nightly circled the heavens had not made half their course when she, too, slept. Willow came to her senses in the half light of the new day, when some forest creature skittered across her moccasins.

“You did not keep watch,” Bear’s Daughter said accusingly, awakening at the same moment.

“There was no need,” Willow said. “
Wishemenetoo
looked after us as we slept.”

Bear’s Daughter tried to rise, and Willow held out a hand to help her up. “The Great Spirit must do so this day, as well,” she murmured. “I fear what lies ahead at the Muskingum.”

“Then let us go back to Waccachalla, my mother.”

Bear’s Daughter shook her head. “No. We must do this thing.”

As that day and the next passed, Willow watched Bear’s Daughter with growing alarm. Her mother’s usual color drained away, and Willow had never before seen such a tightness about her mother’s mouth or such a strange look in her eyes. Yet, though at times she seemed near collapse, the old woman would neither turn back nor slow down.

“My mother, we must stop now,” Willow said in the late afternoon of the third day. “We both are weary, and this seems a likely place to make a camp.”

Bear’s Daughter shook her head and raised a trembling finger to a massive oak tree a hundred yards away. “There stands the council tree where the
Shemanese
once treatied with the Delaware. The village cannot be far. Listen, and you can hear the rushing waters of the Muskingum.”

“Stay here. I will go ahead and find someone to help you get the rest of the way,” Willow said.

“I can walk,” Bear’s Daughter insisted, but long before they reached the water, Willow was supporting much of her mother’s weight.

Bear’s Daughter signaled for Willow to stop. She looked around, then sank to the ground with a sharp cry and began to wail.

The sound, unlike anything Willow had ever heard, chilled every fiber of her being. “What is it, my mother? What ails you?” Willow asked, but Bear’s Daughter did not cease keening for some time. At length she lifted her head and gestured toward a blackened circle several feet away.