Tiopa Ki Lakota (5 page)

She removed the pouch and set it aside with the robe. As the shaman had instructed, she began clearing a patch of ground of all life. The area was longer than she was tall and as wide as her reach. When her chore was complete, she gathered the robe and pouch and stepped within.

Now, she could not leave until the spirits blessed her with a vision or until she gave up.

Cinksi began saying the prayers she had been taught by the elders as she opened the pouch. Carefully, she drew out four tiny bundles about the size of her thumb. Each was attached to the twig of the plum tree and had been made by the shaman for her quest. With further prayers, she stood the twig in the ground on the western side of the cleared area. And then the southern side, followed by the eastern and northern edges. These were the spirit banners and would help protect her from harm.

Next out of the pouch was a fur-wrapped pipe, a quantity of tobacco and a few other herbs. She gathered the herbs together into a small pile and also loaded the bowl of the pipe. The final thing from her pouch was a smoldering ember that had been kept safe in the hollow of an antler and fed bits and pieces of grass to continue burning. Cinksi lit the herbs, the sweet smell of sage and rosemary filling the air around her.

Using the ember to light the tobacco, she offered the pipe to the western sky. "Spirit of the West," she called, "I am Cinksi and I seek a vision." And she took a puff of the smoke, directing the excess cloud over her head, and waited.

Nothing happened.

Cinksi wasn't sure how long to wait. She'd been told by Inyan Ceye that she was to allow some time in between requests to give the spirits time to contact her.
I cannot wait too long. My ember will burn out and I will not be able to complete the ritual.
She debated this for some time.

Finally coming to a decision, she turned to the east and followed the same procedure, offering the pipe, calling out a request, smoking and waiting. This was followed by supplications to the Spirits of the North and South with the same results.

The girl sighed.
Of course, it cannot be easy. The spirits need to see my resolve in this matter.
She decided to take the next course of action.

"Spirit of the Sky, I am Cinksi and I seek a vision."

Nothing.

Frowning, Cinksi finished the ritual. She asked the Sun itself for a vision, its flaming soul beginning to dip behind the hills as the evening drew to a close. And then she asked the Earth itself for a vision, the final and most significant request. The girl finished just in time as the coal she was using finally burned out.

She crouched down in the clearing, face down on the ground. Cinksi wrapped her robe around her and concentrated on receiving a vision from the spirits.

It was the second night, moving into the third morning. About the only truly scary time had been the wolves howling nearby, but none had approached the girl on the hill.

Cinksi found it hard to continue focusing on her desire for a vision. Especially at first, when her every thought was on food and warmth. When she wasn't asleep, she was thinking of a vision, searching the area around her for a sign from the spirits. And none was forthcoming.

The girl was feeling a little dizzy from the lack of food and water. If she did not receive a vision soon, she would have to make the choice of dying here or giving up. It wasn't unusual for someone to return to camp after a vision quest without finding what they sought. But, Cinksi just couldn't believe that
wakan tanka
would set her on this path as a newborn and not speak to her.

Cinksi was currently facing the east. As the sun rose before her, it happened.

The Sun seemed to flare into a brilliant white light. The girl had to squint to peer at it, one hand raised to shade her eyes. As the light faded, she could see a cloud of dust rising and feel the ground beneath her shake at the stampeding of a thousand buffalo. They were running towards her position, led by the most sacred animal of all, the white buffalo.

Watching in dazed awe, Cinksi saw a warrior woman swoop in from the south, screaming her cry as she attacked the white buffalo with a spear. The warrior's hit was solid and the white buffalo was mortally wounded.

It seemed that the remainder of the herd simply disappeared, as did the warrior woman. The white buffalo staggered closer to Cinksi, blood pouring from its side and its nostrils flaring wide as it panted for breath. It fell just outside the cleared area and looked so real that the girl could almost touch it. The Sun flared again, and she lost the image, covering her eyes with her arm. The light faded and she looked again, only to find the white buffalo gone.

In its place was a strange woman with pale skin. Her hair was long, longer than Cinksi's, and a yellow the color of the Sun itself. Her eyes were the blue of a deep lake, still and clear. She was wearing the standard dress that all of Cinksi's women wore, buckskin and moccasins, her hair flowing freely in the breeze.

This strange apparition rose from where the white buffalo had been, blood pouring from her side where the white buffalo had been wounded. She walked gently closer to the girl staring at her in wonder. And then the woman put a hand to her wound, bloodying her fingers. She reached forward and brushed the blood onto Cinksi's face, two thunderbolts beneath the dark eyes. As the Sun flared again, the girl could see those brilliant blue eyes staring at her intently and hear the words whispered into her ear.

"
Mahasanni ki

."

And then the light returned to normal. Cinksi looked frantically around for the woman or the white buffalo and found nothing. With shaky fingers, she touched her face. Again there was nothing.

Trembling, the girl gathered her pouch and robe. She needed to return to the camp, to ask the shaman to help her interpret her vision.

Cinksi sat anxiously as she awaited the verdict of those wiser than herself. Around the fire were her father, the shaman, and the medicine man. They had heard her tale and were now smoking in silence as they considered it.

It felt odd, but the girl accepted the pipe that was handed to her and she smoked with the rest, finally an adult member of the society that she'd been on the outskirts of during her childhood. It warmed her, as did the look of pride she could see from her father.

"It is a complicated vision, Cinksi," Inyan Ceye commented once the smoking was done and the ashes given to the spirits. "I do not presume to know what the spirits wanted you to know from it."

"I understand,
wicahcala

."

The shaman nodded. "To see the white
tatanka

, to see yourself slay it.... I would think that this was your future."

Across from him, the medicine man nodded too "
Hau

, Cinksi. And so the rest of your vision must be your future, as well."

The girl frowned, her dark brows furrowed. "But, the pale woman? Is she my future? And why did she call me
mahasanni ki
?"

"It is hard to say. She is a stranger to us. She must be a stranger to our ways. But she is involved with the
tatanka
." Inyan Ceye stared into the flames of the fire. "And you will hurt her as you did the white
tatanka
."

For some inexplicable reason, Cinksi's heart twisted in sadness to hear that.

"You have had a very powerful vision,
wikoskalaka

," the shaman said. "I think it is time you took a new name." He appeared to be in thought before he smiled. "You will be known as Wi Ile Anpo, as was in your vision."

The girl's father and the medicine man nodded in agreement, their faces happy. "Thank you,
wicahcala
," Anpo, who used to be Cinksi, responded.

Chapter 2

Winyan Ki
(ween-yahn kee)

The Woman

1759

"Push, lass! Yer almost there!"

The 'lass' in question panted with exertion as another contraction hit her. With a growl that was more animal than human, she did as she was bade, almost sitting up in her attempt. She was supported from behind by her mother as the midwife encouraged her.

"Good, lass! I can see the head now." Ignoring the groan of frustration from the mother-to-be, the old midwife ran her hand along the distended belly. "I think the babe's about ready to have a look at the world."

"None too soon," the woman's mother spoke up, her voice reflecting her concern. She brushed her daughter's strawberry blonde hair out of the flushed face. "How are you, Rachel?"

The pregnant woman's face was a brilliant red and sweat poured off her body. "As well as can be expected, mum," she whispered breathlessly with an Irish lilt. "Though which of us is to be the more stubborn remains to be seen."

Kathleen O'Neill

chuckled and wrung out a wet cloth to mop the heated forehead of her daughter. "Ye'll win out, eventually, love. Ye did with me." She brought the cool cloth to the woman's neck and cheeks. "I tried to keep ye the full nine months, but ye'd none of it."

Another contraction welled up and the woman groaned as she forced herself to apply more pressure. And suddenly she felt a loosening sensation within.

The midwife barely had time to capture the babe that abruptly chose to rush out of the womb. As she cut the umbilical cord and tied it off, the new mother slumped back into her own mother's embrace in exhaustion. The old woman smacked the newborn and the baby cried out at the indignity. She smiled and clucked at the baby, cleaning and wrapping it with a sense of a job well done.

Rachel McGlashan

felt as if her entire body was made of pudding, all the energy spirited away. Without even realizing it, she dozed off through the cries of her firstborn child, not rousing until she felt the warm weight pressed onto her chest.

"Here, lass. Yer daughter needs ta be fed." The old midwife smiled. "And I need ye to push one final time fer me. Must get the afterbirth out."

The new mother found herself caught up in a wave of tender emotions as she guided the hungry, questing mouth to her breast. Almost in afterthought, she bore down one more time and a mess of placental membrane was ejected from her womb.

With evident experience, the midwife cleaned up the area, checking for any extensive bleeding carefully. Satisfied that all was well, she grinned up at Rachel. "I'll be going now, lass. Ye be gettin' some rest." She bustled towards the door, not expecting an answer.
There rarely is after the first birth.
With a happy grin, she let herself out of the room.

O'Neill eased out from behind her daughter, blue eyes sparkling with joy. "Congratulations, Rachel," she said softly, brushing aside the swaddling cloth to peek at her granddaughter. She was heartened to see reddish peach fuzz on the head. "It looks like she'll continue on the blonde legacy."

Rachel smiled lazily, a thumb running across the fuzz. "Thank ye, mum."

"Did ye and Jonathon come up with a name yet?"

The younger woman's smile broadened. "Aye. Mum, I'd like ye to meet
Kathleen Sarah McGlashan

." She chuckled at her mother's pleased surprise. "If 'twere a boy, we were plannin' on Stewart Franklin for Jon's da and mine."

"I'm honored, Rachel. Thank you." O'Neill turned as she heard the door opening. She stood back a bit as her son-in-law stepped anxiously into the room.

"Mrs. Perdy said it was all right..." the tall dark young man offered, uncomfortable with imposing.

Rachel smiled warmly and held out a free hand to her husband. "Jon! Come see yer daughter!"

McGlashan

slowly approached the bed, his blue eyes shining almost in fear. His mother-in-law scooted a chair closer to the edge of the bed and gestured him to it. Grateful, he settled down on the edge.

O'Neill stepped away from the couple, remembering a time when she and her husband, Franklin, had done the same thing - doting on the newly arrived Rachel. The older woman stopped long enough to watch them for a few moments before sneaking out of the room.

Behind her, she could hear her son-in-law's awe filled voice. "She's
beautiful
, Rachel...!"

1765

"Kathleen Sarah McGlashan!"

The girl froze in mid step. When her mother used her full name, she knew she was in double trouble.
'Tisn't anything new
, she thought ruefully as she turned back around and faced the wrathful parent. "Yes, mum?"

"If I've told ye once, I've told ye a thousand times, lass!" A toddler was gently pushed in the six year old's direction. "Take yer brother with ye! He wants to play as much as ye."

The little blonde girl sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging at the injustice of her life. "Aye, mum," she mumbled. Her body showed its reluctance as she reached out to take her younger brother's pudgy hand in her own. As Kathleen turned back towards the door, she tried her best not to take it out on him.
'Tis not his fault he's a slobbery little brat.

She failed to see the fond smile her mother gave them as they left.

Kathleen stepped out the door of the small hovel her family resided in and looked about. The sky was overcast and the fog was still trying to burn off from the morning. In the distance, she could see white spots dotting the hillside. Her grandfather was with the sheep this day, somewhere out there. Her father was off to the village to look for work.

As her mother whistled a tune while she cleaned up after their midday meal, the girl tugged
Stewart

around the side of the house. She deposited the three year old by the window next to a nice mudhole. Soon the two were happily creating pies in the gooey soil. Kathleen considered her lot in life as she molded the mud.