Tiopa Ki Lakota (25 page)

Anpo watched as the first began to dance, pulling back and away from the pole. Their blood flowed where the cuts had been placed and the skin strained from their bodies. She had been four days without food and only a bit of water and was feeling a little lightheaded. The woman warrior shuffled around with the remaining candidates, keeping time with her feet as the singing and music continued.

The shamans picked four more individuals from the group. These were pulled towards the pole, as well, their shirts removed. They were cut but, rather than be attached to the pole to dance, each had four buffalo skulls attached to their backs. These then began to dance around the pole, dragging the skulls along.

Bile rose in Kathleen’s throat as she watched the gory proceedings.
How can they do this!? This is disgustin’!! Torture, plain and simple!
Her heart thudded heavily in her chest as she saw the shaman approach her warrior.
Oh, my God! What will they do ta her!?

Anpo removed her shirt revealing a soft leather band wrapped tightly around her breasts. The shaman before her, Inyan Ceye, smiled reassuringly through his buffalo mask as he prepared his knife. The obsidian was sharp and the warrior could hardly feel any pain when the skin of her chest was cut open. Two thongs were attached to her.

“Wait, Wi Ile Anpo,” the shaman said. “You and I are not finished.”

The woman could feel the blood trickling down her chest, staining the leather she wore. She swayed a little from her overall weakness as the shaman circled around her. And then she could feel two more incisions on her shoulder blades and more thongs attached.

Kathleen watched as her warrior was pulled from the thongs hanging from the pole as well as the ones attached to stakes pounded into the floor behind. As the shaman moved away from Anpo, she could see her winuhca swaying back and forth, pulling at the rawhide that held her pinned.

Around her the crowd continued their singing, repeating the same song over and over as the dancers danced. As one by one they pulled away from the pole, ripping themselves free, the gathered people cheered for them. The four that were dragging the buffalo skulls were also cheered as they went past and as the weight of the bone pulled the thongs free.

There were three other warriors attached to stakes in the ground as Anpo was, swaying back and forth to the beat and staring upwards, but the blonde’s eyes were only for her warrior. She’d stopped trying to keep up with the tune around her, concentrating solely on Anpo’s misery. The dark eyes were focused on the peak of the
ti

ikceya

, keeping them on the sun as she weaved and pulled.
Ah, my poor love!

Eyes stinging from the tears, Anpo danced back and forth. The sticks that were used to attach the rawhide rubbed against her furiously, irritating the incisions. After several minutes, a euphoria seemed to take over and the pain receded from her mind as she prayed to the spirits and thanked them for the honor of
tatanka ska
and Ketlin.

One by one, the dancers freed themselves from the
wakan

tree. Soon, there was only one remaining. Kathleen watched in anguish, her entire body humming with the need to rush out and protect her warrior. The only thing holding her back was Hca’s arm firmly wrapped about her shoulders and the apparent acceptance of all the other Lakota who were present.

And then there was a gasp from the spectators as Anpo jerked backwards with a purpose, ripping the thongs from her chest simultaneously. A loud cheer rang out, filling the lodge.

Kathleen grimaced and moaned low in her throat.

“Your
winuhca
is very powerful and honored,
hanka
,” Nupa murmured into her ear. “Not many are so strong as to do what she has done.”

The praise did nothing to ease the blonde’s fears. Despite her desire to not see anymore of the savage display, she couldn’t keep her eyes from the lone dancer still in the clearing.

Bracing herself, Anpo forced herself to surge forward. She felt her skin ripping, a sickening sensation, and the hot flow of fresh blood coursing down her back. With no further resistance from behind, the warrior stumbled and fell to her knees.

“
Anpo
!” Kathleen cried, her voice drowned from the cheering of the onlookers. She tried to go to her woman only to be held back by Hca and Nupa.

“
Hiya

, Ketlin!” the dark woman insisted, blotting out Kathleen’s view of her sister. “You must not!”

Regardless of the plea, the blonde continued to fight against her captors until Nupa’s face filled her vision.

“
Hanka
!” he yelled. “Do not dishonor your
winuhca

!”

The words washed over her, leaving a chillness in their wake.
Dishonor?

Seeing uncertainty, Nupa continued. “She is a warrior and she has shown her gratitude for all her honor to
wakan tanka

! Do not let all she has done be for nothing! Let her walk out with pride!”

Anpo stumbled to her feet, breathing heavily. She and the other dancers gathered around the pole and sang a final song of thanks to the spirits. There was a hush when it was finished and all of them shuffled out into the summer camp’s clearing.

Tears were coursing down Kathleen’s face as her warrior shambled by, exhausted and hurting. She started to reach a hand out, to touch her, to assure her that she was there, but pulled back.
Don’t dishonor her. Be brave. She needs me ta be brave.

And then the dozen candidates were outside the
ti ikceya
and the people all began leaving, as well. The blonde looked to Anpo’s sister, her face anguished and questioning.

A tender look crossed Hca’s face and she nodded. “Go to her, Ketlin. She will need you now.” She smiled when her
stepan

needed no further encouragement, slipping away through the crowd towards the
tiopa
.

Anpo tried to remain standing tall, but was having some difficulty. Many people passed her, offering kind words and smiles. But none had the face of the one she wished to see. A warmth seemed to caress her from one side and the warrior instinctively turned that way. An arm wrapped around her waist and her woman shouldered some of her burden.

“
Winuhca
!” Kathleen said in a breathless tone. “You and I will go home now.” The grin that she received nearly made her heart stop.

“I love you,
mahasanni ki
,” the young warrior said, allowing herself to be led away.

The blonde woman paused for just a second before continuing on her path.
That’s what ‘tis then? Love?
Pause.
Anpo loves me?
With a silly grin plastered on her mouth, Kathleen answered, “I love you, too,
winuhca

. More than you will ever know.”

Chapter 7

Wakan Waste
(wah-kahn wash-teh)
Good Energy

1778

The warrior sat at the fire, quietly smoking a pipe. She had a buffalo robe wrapped about her to keep out the chill of the late winter evening. Before her was a fire that crackled and popped. She was not alone.

Her sister was bustling around the fire to one side. As the
wikoskalaka

finished preparing the evening meal, she filled a clay bowl of stew and handed it to the warrior. “Here,
mitankala

. Eat.”

Wi Ile Anpo

looked up from the fire. “
Ohan
,
cuwekala
,” she said with worried face. “Thank you.” Setting the bowl to one side, the warrior finished smoking her pipe in silent contemplation, steam from her breath mingling with the tobacco smoke.

Before her lay the winter camp of
Wagmiza Wagna

. About thirty
ti ikceyas
lay around a large cleared area in a near circle. The only open space among them was on the eastern side where the entrance would face the rising sun. At the exact opposite of the communal space was a larger
ti

ikceya

that was used as a meeting place for the elders and chiefs.

Finishing her tobacco, the warrior emptied the ashes into the fire so that the spirits could have the sacred smoke.
Hca Wanahca

was watching carefully as she stirred the stew.

Behind the warrior was her
winuhca’s
ti ikceya
. In the flickering firelight, designs could be seen painted on the buffalo hide. The doorway was closed, a separate leather skin covering it. But it didn’t close off the noises coming from within. A man’s voice, the medicine man, was singing. Another’s, the shaman, was chanting a spell of protection. Beneath them could be heard the sounds of a woman moaning in pain.

The warrior ate her meal quietly. Around the clearing, other families were gathered around their own lodges, all minding their own business but also out and about in silent support of her. At a fire nearby, her father and best friend were doing the same. The elders were gathered at the main fire by the council
ti ikceya
, smoking their pipes and discussing where to set up the summer camp in the following months.

In the lodge behind her, a sudden howling rent the air. The camp seemed to freeze, all appearing to hold their collective breath in trepidation. And then a wail from an indignant newborn christened the night sky and the camp returned to its activities in relief. A few more moments passed as the men inside finished their prayers and incantations. The babe’s voice eventually died down.

When the shaman and medicine man stepped out of the
ti ikceya
, Hca left the fire and headed inside. This seemed to break the tableau around the camp. As the two men sat at the warrior’s fire, the women from the other lodges began trailing closer, intent on offering assistance to the new mother.

The two men sat in silence for a few moments. The shaman pulled out a bundle of fur and carefully unwrapped a pipe. It was made of an antelope antler and intricately carved and decorated. The others watched as he carefully loaded the bowl with tobacco. He crouched forward and, with aged fingers, used two twigs to lift a burning ember, lighting the pipe.

The shaman spoke a prayer as he offered the smoke to the four directions. And then he took a puff of the pipe, using his free hand to guide the smoke towards his head and behind.

The shaman handed the pipe, stem first, to the warrior who repeated the process of smoking and guiding the cloud closer. And it was passed to the medicine man who did the same. The trio sat in silence, finishing this ritual. When the bowl held nothing but ashes, the shaman tapped it into the fire, releasing the last of it for the great spirits that ruled their world.

The warrior waited patiently, although her worries were growing by leaps and bounds the longer the wise men remained silent. She breathed a faint sigh of relief when the medicine man cleared his throat in preparation of speaking, unaware that her father had gone through this same arduous process seventeen winters earlier.

“You have a strong
cinksi
,
wikoskalaka
,”
He Osni

rasped, his voice almost a whisper from the extended use and the cold of winter.

“And Ketlin? How is my
winuhca

?” Anpo asked, leaning forward with intensity.

Inyan Ceye

chuckled as he wrapped the pipe. “She is well,
wikoskalaka

. The labor was long, but the birth was quick.” He slipped the bundle into a pouch.

“Ha
u
,” the older medicine man agreed with a snort. “The
wakanyeja

was stubborn until
he
made the decision to leave his
ina’s
san

.”

Anpo’s face was a mix of concern and confusion. She had seen babies before but had never seen a newborn display obstinance. “Stubborn...?” Her dark head shook.

The shaman laughed outright at her consternation and clapped a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “
Hau
, Anpo! Your
cinksi

will be stubborn, just like you and his
ina
! He will take a long time to set his path, but he will follow that path to the end when he finds it!”

Still not sure if this was a good character trait or not, the warrior’s answering laugh was a bit weak. Sitting still at her fire, Anpo fought with her natural inclination to dash into the
ti

ikceya

and check on her
winuhca
herself.

Seeing the whites of the young warrior’s eyes, He Osni smiled and waved her away. “Go,
wikoskalaka
. Go see your family before you shake apart from within.”

A quick look at Inyan, who also nodded and urged her with a wave of a hand, and Anpo was up and into her woman’s lodge, scattering the other
winyan

and
wikoskalaka
like quail in the tall grass.

Inside, the
ti ikceya
was warm from the fire.
Waniyetu Gi

and Hca were both chattering and cooing at the blonde woman and the warrior found that puzzling.
They have never treated Ketlin like that before...
There were other women in the lodge, some gathered around Kathleen and others tending the fire or tidying up. All stood aside with smiles on their faces when they saw Anpo approaching.