Lakota Flower Page 25
Chumani joined Caroline and whispered, “The others will come soon, one by one, so our people will not think it strange and wonder why they rush here to meet. Two Feathers has gone hunting and Wastemna is in the forest gathering wood, so they will not see them come.”
Caroline murmured in awe, “They believed you, believed me?”
“Yes, but it was hard for them to accept. I only told them Two Feathers and Wastemna are plotting evil and I must expose them.”
“What will happen to Wastemna and Two Feathers?”
Chumani admitted, “I do not know. It is hard for us to slay a band member as punishment, and we do not have a wooden tepee to hold evil ones captive as the whites and soldiers do.”
“But if they are only banished, the could sneak back one night and try to slay you and Cloud Chaser or others for revenge.”
“That is true, but their fates must be left in the Creator’s hands. He—” Chumani halted her explanation as Wind Dancer arrived and gazed back and forth between them. “Come, my husband, sit with us.”
Wind Dancer took a place beside his wife and said in Lakota, “We will not speak of the trouble until Father and Grandfather come to meet with us. Such evil does not need to fill your mouth many times.”
Chumani translated his words for Caroline to make certain she understood his request, and her friend nodded.
Caroline focused her attention on the baby so she would not have to look at the powerful warrior who was seated in front of her and was studying her intently. In many ways, War Eagle favored his older brother, but he had scant resemblance to Cloud Chaser, who probably took part of his looks from his white ancestors. Yet, all three males were handsome, tall, and strong. From what she had observed and learned of their past exploits and characters, any one of them would make an excellent Red Shield chief. All three were brave, perhaps utterly fearless to a certain degree, cunning, intelligent, and skilled in hunting and warfare. They were loved, obeyed, and esteemed by their people, except for the two evildoers. They were fiercely loyal to their families, people, customs, and lands. They were men of great honor who practiced their beliefs daily and lived by their Four Virtues. How could she not admire and befriend such men of quality and high rank? How could she not love and desire War Eagle? It was impossible. It was—
Caroline halted her musings as the chief arrived to join them and Rising Bear took a seat beside his eldest son. As she watched him enter and take his place, she gave him a rapid scrutiny. His strength, agility, and near-regal bearing disguised his fifty years of age. His long dark hair exposed only a meager amount of silver or white near his temples. The top and sides of his black hair were drawn back and secured behind his head with a leather thong, an eagle feather dangling from the lock. His features were prominent, but not unappealing. He was a nice-looking man, but not handsome like his three sons. He was clad in a deerskin vest, leggings, breechclout, a tie belt with a knife sheath, and well-made moccasins. He wore no chief’s bonnet or eagle-bone breastplate in camp. but there was a leather medallion with symbols painted upon it suspended around his neck.
Caroline realized that Rising Bear was studying her, while Wind Dancer’s attention was focused on his wife and daughter. She presumed the younger warrior was angered by his cousin’s threat to his family. Although he had his emotions under control, there was a chilling gleam in his eye and a slight tautness to his jawline that suggested he was riled by the insidious scheme. As for the chief, his expression and gaze told her nothing, as both were stoic, probably from years of practice to dupe enemies or mislead troublemakers. Yet, a man of his rank and with such a strong sense of loyalty to his family, surely Rising Bear was inflamed by the treachery and hatred of his nephew.
Nahemana came forward to join them. He was different from the chief and his grandson. He gave off an aura of reverence, inspiring veneration, and evoking awe. He was wise and serene and gentle, but had great strength of character and purpose. It did not seem as if the kind shaman ever had possessed a warrior’s spirit or even could, as he was the guardian of their emotional and physical well-being. He was a man of honor and peace, a teacher, a healer, a ceremonial leader, and intercessor to their Creator. The sage had convinced her he had inexplicable mystical powers, so—if he sensed her feelings for War Eagle, and his for her—what did Nahemana think and feel about such a possibly forbidden relationship? She pushed those ponderings aside as everyone appeared ready to take on the problem at hand.
Caroline sat still and quiet as the men listened while Chumani spoke. When questions were asked afterward, Chumani either answered them from what she had told her friend earlier or queried Caroline in English for clarity, then passed along her responses. She noticed how the men kept glancing at her while Chumani was speaking to them or querying her about certain points, as if to make sure they understood her correctly and/or to assess her honesty.
Then, Caroline heard Wind Dancer say he wanted to question her grasp of their language to be reassured she was not mistaken. She tensed, and prayed she could pass his test of her knowledge and skills. What if he asked only things she didn’t know? What would happen to her and her endangered friends if she failed his challenge? Would they believe it was easier to understand another language when one heard it spoken than it was to speak it? Or that one could catch words here and there and grasp the gist of a talk?
Since so much depended on her success, she listened carefully to his first question, which was about how she had learned their language, and was told to respond in Lakota…
Chapter Fifteen
“Yutokeca Mahpiya he oiekicaton ta unspemakiye.” Caroline replied that Cloud Chaser had taught her his language.
“How do you say to kill in Lakota?”
Caroline repeated his query, not just those two words, “Kte toske Lakotiya eyapi he?”
Wind Dancer realized she had used he, the female ending to a question and not the male’s hwo. “Tuktelyati hwo?”
“I live in Cloud Chaser’s tepee,” she told him in English.
“Nituktetanhan hwo? Speak Lakota,” he instructed in a gentle tone.
In response to his “Where do you come from?” Caroline told him, “Paha Sapa itehanyan,” to relate far away from Black Hills.
“Taku eniciyapi hwo? Speak English this time.”
“My name is Caroline Sims.”
“Tanyan ecanun yelo.”
After he told Caroline, “You did well,” relief and joy surged through her and she thanked him. “Pilamaya.” She comprehended when he told the others she must have overheard those “wicoie sica”—bad words—correctly, for she spoke good Lakota. Caroline realized the smiling Chumani already knew she had passed that test and was pleased. Since Rising Bear and Nahemana did not speak English, they had not known she was victorious until Wind Dancer told them. Both leaders looked at her and nodded, which she took as gratitude for her discovery and praise for her skills. Afterward, she saw the men exchange many glances as if they were communicating without words as the gravity of the matter settled in on them and/or they were seeking to learn how that insidious news was affecting the others. She grasped most of their words as they discussed the conspiracy and the two people involved in it and how they planned to deal with all three…
Later in Cloud Chaser’s tepee, Chumani related the grave scheme and how it would be handled to Macha, whose wide gaze kept traveling back and forth between Chumani and Caroline. Afterward, all three were silent for a time as Macha absorbed the shocking news. As she did so, it was apparent to the other two women that she did not doubt their honesty.
Macha said in her language, “It is good the Great Spirit sent you to us, Caroline, for you save lives in many ways. I could not bear to lose my beloved husband and our son. It is good the Great Spirit sent you into the forest, that He guides you along a path of true friendship and help to us. I would never become Two Feathers’ mate for any reason. His hunger for me is wicked. He wants to steal me from Cloud Chaser out of hatred and jealousy to
ward my husband. I thank you, my friend.”
Caroline nodded her gratitude and replied in Lakota, “I did not want to tell you such bad things on the past moon and bring much fear to your heart. I needed time to think of how to speak such words. I hear and grasp more Lakota than I can speak. I went to Dewdrops, for she speaks my tongue, and such talk was hard and long. I prayed she would believe me, to save her life and your husband’s. Forgive me for hiding their threat from you on the past moon.”
Macha smiled and told Caroline she believed her just as she and Cloud Chaser believed Two Feathers had killed his wife, Sisoka, last year and tried to blame her death on an enemy. They had surmised Sisoka had discovered her husband’s evil and was going to expose him, so she was slain to prevent it.
Macha concluded that Two Feathers had hidden his evil behind a faked truce with Cloud Chaser until he thought it was safe to bring it forth again to obtain his goals, and Wastemna’s return had given him what he must view as the perfect opportunity to go after them. They had known Two Feathers craved her as his wife and hated Cloud Chaser, but could not guess what evoked his hostility toward her husband. Now, the truth was revealed, thanks to the brave and kind Caroline.
“I saw Two Feathers return from hunting as we entered your tepee. Soon, they will summon us to gather and he will be entrapped there.”
After those words left Chumani’s lips, all three heard a loud voice as Blue Owl walked through the camp and shouted, “Omniciye ekta u wo!”
Caroline had heard those words before: “Come to the meeting.” She looked at Chumani, then at Macha, then back at Chumani. Her adversary and his accomplice were certain to deny the perilous accusations against them. Perhaps other Red Shields might not accept a white captive’s claims and she would be caught in the middle—the instigator of a grievous split between band members.
“Winyeya nanka he?” Chumani asked if they were ready to go.
“Han, winyeya,” they replied simultaneously. Then Macha and Caroline looked at each other and smiled in amusement.
After Casmu and Inunpa were placed on their mothers’ backs in their cradle-boards, the three women joined the crowd outside.
It did not take long for Two Feathers to sight Caroline amidst the gathering and to narrow his gaze in anger. He almost shoved his way past many people to reach her. He glared at her and demanded she leave the meeting. “You are a slave, a captive; you do not belong here. Go, white dog, and do our tasks before you are punished for such an offense.”
Nahemana had seen Two Feathers’ reaction and surmised his intention. The shaman placed a gnarled hand on the young warrior’s arm and said, “Speak no more bad words in a bad voice, Two Feathers. I say she can remain here. She is a friend to us.”
Caroline was relieved by Nahemana’s hasty and gentle defense of her, but she cringed at the blatant enmity in Two Feathers’ gaze and tone. She was astonished when he defied the shaman.
“She is one of the enemy. She is only a captive. She is not a friend. She speaks and acts false to trick us, to stay safe among us. Send her away.”
Nahemana noticed how Two Feathers jerked his arm from his light grasp and glared at him while protesting his decision. “Why do you challenge my words, flinch from my touch, and speak bad to your shaman, son of Runs Fast and Pretty Meadow? Why do you hate and fear a harmless white woman who has done much good for our people? What evil spirit dwells within you and provokes you to such wickedness?”
Caroline saw Two Feathers glance around and see that all eyes were on him, including the stunned gazes of his parents and closest friends. She surmised he perceived his slip in behavior and tried to amend the damage when he apologized—falsely and cunningly, she presumed—to the shaman.
“I am sorry, Wise One. I speak and act bad. I do not agree with your words and feelings about the captive, but I will obey your command.”
Before the warrior could retrace his path, Nahemana halted him. “Do not go, Two Feathers, for we have gathered here to speak with you.”
“What words do you have to share with me, Wise One?”
“Why do you seek to take the lives of Cloud Chaser and Dewdrops?”
Caroline saw the warrior’s gaze widen in surprise as he was taken off guard by that unexpected and fast-spoken query. Wastemna was urged forward by Wind Dancer’s grip on her forearm. Caroline saw her shake her head ever so slightly, as if sending her partner a signal she had not betrayed him. Two Feathers seemed to grasp her sly message and relax before he attempted a bold bluff.
“What is the meaning of your words, Wise One? For they are untrue. I do not draw my knife against members of my family. If I did such evil, the Great Spirit would expose me and slay me.”
As the astonished and confused Red Shields edged closer and closer to hear and see better, Nahemana disclosed “One among us overhead your evil plans to slay them.” Then, he repeated the sinister talk that had taken place between Two Feathers and Wastemna last night. “You have plotted such evil, Two Feathers, and the Great Spirit found a way to stop you.”
“It is not true! He speaks false!” Wastemna shouted. “I am no threat to them. I will bite the knife and swear those words.”
Caroline had been told of the custom to prove one’s honesty by saying the words or deed in question while holding a knife between one’s teeth. If the knife was dropped or it cut that person, it was a sign of lying. No doubt, she supposed, Wastemna had practiced that action countless times in the event such a hazard as this one occurred.
“We did not talk of slaying others. We met in the forest to speak of a joining between us. I did not want to ask Wastemna to become my mate before others if she would reject me. Who speaks false against us? I will fight him for truth. I challenge him to a death battle; that is my right.”
Caroline froze in trepidation. No one had told her—warned her—about that custom. There was no way she could defeat such a skilled and strong and large warrior in a competition to the death.
Nahemana refuted, “It is your right if the Great Spirit’s helper is Red Shield. She is not, so you cannot challenge her to the kicizapi wiconte.”
Caroline watched Two Feathers stare at the shaman in confusion for a few moments; then, his narrowed and chilled gaze settled on her as he apparently guessed the truth. She forced herself to lock gazes with him, though his was potent and intimidating. She feared that to look away and refuse to face the accused would imply weakness and deceit on her part. She saw gleams of what she assumed were arrogance and satisfaction in his eyes and he almost grinned—no, sneered—at her. It was as if his invidious gaze said, So, it is you, white dog; you are no match for me; you are a dead woman.
She prayed for the strength and wits to thwart him. He was the first to look away as he turned to address the shaman and his people.
“The white captive speaks false. She hates me and wants to see me slain or exiled, as does Cloud Chaser. My cousin told her to do this wicked task while he was gone; he told her of Wastemna’s past troubles here. I say the white enemy must be beaten and slain for her false tongue.”
As he glared at the insolent man, Wind Dancer argued in a sarcastic tone, “How could my brother evoke such mischief when he did not know of Wastemna’s return before he left camp to help save our people? Caroline did not know of Wastemna’s existence until you brought her to our camp. I tested Caroline’s skills with our language before Father and Grandfather, and she grasps it well. I believe Caroline heard you and Buffalo Hump’s daughter plotting against my wife and my brother. Caroline would not know such things if she did not hear them from your mouths. I say it is Two Feathers and Wastemna who lie and must be punished.”
“I challenge you to prove I speak false in the ring of fire.”
Wind Dancer told him, “You do not deserve that honor and right. You must die. What say you, my people?”
“It can not be true!” Runs Fast shouted before a vote could be taken. “You can not slay my first son before giving him a chance to prove himself;
this is our way, our law, our custom.”
Nahemana said, “He has betrayed all of them and us, Runs Fast. He is unworthy to be a Red Shield and to breathe the air of the Great Spirit.”
“Banish him, but do not slay him,” Pretty Meadow begged her brother.
Rising Bear said, “If we did so, sister, he would sneak back to camp for revenge. He must die. What say you, my people?”
Caroline observed as the other men agreed with their chief, all except the man’s father, who tried one final time to obtain mercy. Runs Fast glared at her as he spoke to the somber gathering of his people.
“The white captive lies. You must not slay him. He is the grandson of Ghost Warrior. He is a Sacred Bow Carrier. She lies; slay her.”
Nahemana told the distraught and riled father, “Your first son has dishonored that rank and brought shame to his bloodline. He is unworthy—”
Caroline was almost knocked down as Two Feathers shoved her aside, raced toward his horse, and leapt on its back. He galloped away while the stunned crowd’s gazes followed his swift and desperate movements.
“He proves his guilt by showing fear and trying to escape. I will go after him, Father, for he must be punished,” the future chief announced.
“No!” Runs Fast shouted. He seized Wind Dancer’s arm to halt his pursuit. “I will go after my son and speak with him. I will learn why he flees our camp and does not defend himself against such false words, for he is not evil. We will return soon to tell all the truth.”
Nahemana shook his head and reasoned, “No, Runs Fast, for your father’s heart and pride cloud your eyes and mind to his wickedness. They would not allow you to force him to return to face his punishment.”
“Why must you slay him? Why can he not be banished?”