Kathleen slumped on her sleeping robes in the ti ikceya. It had been a busy day and she was very tired. Aye, ye should be, la.s.s. Ye helped put up enough food ta feed Boston proper. Outside the lodge, she could hear the wild drums and the people singing as they danced. She thought she'd heard pipes, as well, but couldn't be sure.

Nearby, an old toothless woman was sewing two pieces of leather together and singing softly in a whispery voice. She was the only other person in the tent, an aging guard to keep the new young slave trapped.

'Tisn't like there's anyplace ta go, Kath, the blonde thought to herself with an ironic twist to her mouth. She stretched out and covered herself with her robes, trying to get comfortable on the hard ground.

As far as Kathleen could tell, it had been well over a month, nearing two, since she'd been kidnapped from her homestead in the east. The man who had brutally raped her in her own cabin had taken a liking to her fair skin and kept her. There had been many nights over the course of several weeks that Kathleen had been s.e.xually a.s.saulted. And the two women who had lived with that man had beat her regularly for the slightest infraction of their unspoken and vague rules.

All Kathleen wanted was to curl up and die by that point. She'd tried to get a knife from one of the women, smuggling it into her dress while helping prepare the meal, intent on using it to join her husband. But, it hadn't worked. The woman had seen it and had beat her senseless. And then her man had done the same.

But things had changed about two weeks ago. In the early morning hours, a monstrous uproar had been heard in the camp. There was quite a bit of screaming and yelling. The tent she'd been in had caught fire. The man had already gone outside to fight the attackers and the women soon followed to escape the flames, leaving her inside to roast.

Kathleen still didn't know how she had gotten out of the inferno. Outside was a ma.s.s of confusion and it was all she could do to stay out of the way of stampeding horses and wild eyed natives. Through the din of smoke and noise, she could hear hooves beating hard on the ground and suddenly, she'd been swept up and across a wooden saddle.

And she'd been with this man and his family ever since, moving steadily west.

The blonde rolled over onto her side, facing the fire and watching the old woman at her task. Could be worse, la.s.s.

Her treatment had gotten infinitely better here. There were no beatings, though the man had slapped her once when she'd gotten hysterical. The women were rather kind. The grandmother across the fire there would occasionally swear at her or some such when she'd done something wrong. Kathleen couldn't tell what she was saying and it was probably just as well. There were also two children in this tent and, for one who'd thought she was barren, living with them had been a joy.

But the brutality of Kathleen's kidnapper had left its mark. The man - my new husband? - had tried to bed her four times. And four times he'd gone away in disgust. The first time, she'd gotten hysterical and he'd had to slap her. Afterwards, when he climbed into her robes, his naked body against hers, she froze. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, nothing but a ceramic doll to be posed, to be used. And that was obviously not something he wanted. He would shake his head and leave her robes, going to his wife's bed.

Ye've got ta get over this, la.s.s. If ye don't have any worth, then yer a dead woman. Unbidden, tears welled up in her eyes. With the lack of abuse came the time to reflect and feel. Kathleen knew that her husband was dead. She'd seen his body when her attackers had dragged her from the cabin. But it was only recently she'd had the opportunity to mourn. Adam needed ta have someone ta love. Needed ta have children. And I wasn't able to give him either.

Another concern was her family. There was no indication that there'd been an attack on the McGlashan homestead yet it still worried her mind. Aside from ye, la.s.s, there's no sign of an attack on yer homestead either. Every night, as these strange people prepared for sleep, she prayed to G.o.d that her mum and da were alright, that Stewart had survived the horrid attacks up and down the frontier.

And so the last two weeks had gone. Sleeping, eating, packing, moving. Followed by unpacking, preparing food, eating and worrying. All with the occasional odd anxiety attack thrown in for good measure. Kathleen didn't know where the camp was heading, just that they continued to travel west and west and west.

Today had been different. The arrival of the two young warriors had been interesting. Kathleen wished she spoke the language so she could hear what was going on. She could barely understand one word out of a dozen. And then there were the preparations for the feast and the music and dancing outside now. I wonder who they are? Someone important from the looks of things. But she'd been hustled into the tent as soon as the strangers entered the camp and she'd been out of sight ever since. Maybe they're worried ye'll get stolen again. Seems ta be the way of it here.

Unable to fathom the whys and wherefores, her deep blue eyes slowly closed, tears drying on her cheeks. The old woman's voice weaved through her mind as she drifted off to sleep, singing a counterpoint to the sound of her gram's tin whistle.

"I am near, Mahasanni ki .".

Anpo's eyes flew open and she surged up from sleep, looking wildly around for the pale woman.

Nearby, her friend stirred in his robes before continuing to snore quietly.

It was a dream, nothing more. Her heartbeat slowed and she scrubbed sleep from her face as she sat up. Outside the ti ikceya could be heard movement as others awoke. Reaching over, she nudged the young man, rousting him. "Han , tiblo. It is time to go."

"Hau , tanksi." Nupa grinned before stretching and yawning. As he stood and began getting dressed, he said, "I cannot wait to arrive home! It will be a great hunt!"

Anpo collected her belongings and packed them up. The sacred bundle that had been given them by the chief was still in her possession and would remain so until she arrived at their own camp and could be given to Wagmiza Wagna.

Sensing his friend's somberness, Nupa peered at her. "Are you all right, tanksi ?".

Troubled brown eyes regarding him. "I cannot drive the pale woman from my mind, tiblo . She haunts me waking or sleeping." The young woman sighed deeply and shook her head in consternation. "If this is the time of the vision, I wish she would show herself! The waiting is hard!"

The warrior nodded in sympathy. He reached out to take the woman's upper arm and squeeze it gently. "Visions are never easy. Especially those that are powerful. Be patient, tanksi. All will come to pa.s.s as it should."

Anpo gave a half-hearted snort. "If I close my eyes, I can see Inyan."

"I am not a shaman!" Nupa insisted as he pulled away from her. "I would not make a good one." Hearing another snort, the warrior rolled his eyes. "Being shaman is more than visions, tanksi. Do you think I have the patience to sit for hours on end, awaiting the spirits? To work so diligently on harvesting leaves and gra.s.s?"

The sudden sight of the great warrior, Nupa Olowan of Wagmiza Wagna's camp, picking flowers in a field filled Anpo's mind.

The young man frowned down at her as she rolled on the floor, howling. "I do not understand why you are laughing."

As they left the camp of Wicasa Waziya Mani, the people were already beginning to pack up their belongings in preparation for the trip. There were final words between the visitors and the chief before the two climbed upon their ponies and left.

The trip home was uneventful, if quiet. Anpo's mind was constantly drawn to her dream and vision. The longer the day went, the more the feeling of antic.i.p.ation grew within her heart. It was if she knew that the vision was going to come to fruition in the very near future.

Nupa tried to ply her with jokes and conversation, failing miserably. He finally left her to her thoughts, following along quietly.

By midday, they returned to their own camp. It is good to see home, Anpo thought as they rode into the eastern entrance.

The two stopped at the council ti ikceya and the leather covering was pushed aside as they dismounted. An elder stepped out and held the covering aside for them to enter before stepping in behind.

Shuffling around the firepit, the elders opened up the honored place beside Wagmiza Wagna and the two messengers settled down. After several minutes of smoking and silence, the chief spoke.

"You have an answer, Anpo?"

"Ohan, wicahcala ." The woman held out the bundle she'd been carrying.

The elder took the fur and gently opened it. His creased face broke into a smile as he held up the fur to show the medicine bundle and willow bark pouch. "Our invitation has been accepted," he announced to the gathered men.

"The camp of Mani will arrive before the sun goes down this night," the young woman spoke up, the grin on her face matching her friend's beside her.

"Then we will have a feast in their honor to welcome them to our camp," Wagmiza Wagna declared. He turned to the young warriors beside him. "You have done well, this day. I will be honored if you sit with me at the feast."

Anpo worked hard at keeping a neutral expression on her face, though she could feel her eyes widen and the desire to drop her jaw. Beside her, she could almost feel Nupa thrumming with excitement. "I would be... very honored, wicahcala," she finally said.

"And I!" the young man beside her added. He nudged her with his shoulder, grinning.

Nodding in satisfaction, the elder chief returned their smiles.

The pair were minor heroes for the day, constantly pestered by the hoksila with questions, given extra little treats from the winyan's cookfires, quizzed by the other koskalaka and wicasa as they lounged around and smoked.

In preparation of the new arrivals, several of the lodges had been moved to accommodate the extra people, expanding the camp outward. The cookfires were put to great use as the women and girls prepared a repast for the feast. Later, as the sun lowered in the western sky, antic.i.p.ation began to swell.

Soon, three riders came from the north. They circled around to the eastern side and slowly made their entrance. Wicasa Waziya Mani and two of his advisors rode into the camp, all smiles. The trio pulled up at the council lodge and hopped off their ponies.

"Hau , Mani!" Wagmiza Wagna stated grandly, his arms wide.

The younger chief held out the invitation wand delivered to him the day before. "Hau, Wagna. We are honored that you have asked us to hunt with you."

And then the three were urged into the council ti ikceya. Several young men and women ran to their herd and hopped onto ponies, thundering away to the north to a.s.sist the visiting camp.

It wasn't long before the new arrivals were present and setting up their own lodges in the cleared s.p.a.ces. While the women and girls puttered about, the men and boys began gathering at various fires to greet old friends and exchange stories and news.

Anpo sat quietly at her father's fire, sharpening an antler spearhead by grinding it against a rock. Wanbli Zi was in the council lodge with the rest of the elders and her mother was off to visit her maske who resided in Mani's camp. She wasn't sure where her sister was. Probably helping someone set up their ti ikceya, she thought. Or fawning over all the young warriors. I wonder if my tiblo's feeling anxious? A grin crossed the warrior's face.

As if the thought had called him, Nupa came running up to her, excitement in his bearing. "Hau, tanksi! You must come with me!"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Hiya . I am busy now." She did not relish the idea of playing games of chance, her mind was worrying the vision of her future and taking most of her attention.

"Hoh , tanksi! You must! There is something I must show you."

"Can it not wait until later, tiblo?"

The handsome young warrior shook his head. Though his face was solemn, his eyes sparkled brilliantly.

Sighing with some consternation, the woman set her spear to one side. She knew from experience that to deny Nupa in this mood would only strengthen his resolve. He was nothing if not stubborn when he set his mind. Acting disgruntled for his benefit, Anpo rose from her seat and mock-glared at him. "Lead on."

His smile was brilliant against his dark face and he turned away with a gesture for her to follow.

In moments they arrived at a visiting family's ti ikceya . The setup of the lodge was complete and an older and younger winyan were presently preparing the outdoor cookfire and setting out the various accouterments needed for day to day life. Several young men and women from Anpo's camp were loitering about, casting surrept.i.tious glances at the tent.

Intrigued at the interest shown this one lodge, the young woman looked to her friend. "What is it you wish to show me?"

"You will see. Be patient." Nupa's face was aglow.

Eyes narrowed in slight irritation, Anpo returned her gaze to the ti ikceya. She also began to notice that the other members of her camp had begun watching her as well, more so than usual. I do not understand. I am no different than yesterday. Her brow furrowed.

The old woman of the lodge glanced around at the collected people who were appearing to be nonchalant in their rude stares. Muttering curses under her breath at their impudence, she marched over to the tiopa and pushed aside the covering. Calling inside, she bid the occupants to come out into the daylight.

Despite herself, Anpo picked up on the antic.i.p.ation of the others loitering about. Their eyes intensified as they watched, their glances more and more centering on her. Just as she was about to speak of this strangeness to Nupa, there was movement at the lodge and she found her own dark eyes drawn there.

A small child climbed out, a hoksila of about four winters. Behind him was an older wicincala .

"They are only children, tiblo," she murmured to her friend.

"Hiya, tanksi," the warrior beside her responded. There was further movement at the tiopa and he grasped his friend's arm. "Look!"

Hesitantly, a pale woman stepped out into the waning sunlight. Her hair was long, longer than Anpo's, and was the color of the Sun itself. It was tied back at the neck, but flowed freely below that, hanging to her waist. Her skin was so light as to be almost white in color with a slight golden tint to it. She was wearing the standard dress of the women of Anpo's people, buckskin and long, with moccasins on her feet.

It is her!! Anpo couldn't begin to describe what she felt. All time seemed to stop. No breath came to her, her mouth was open in shock, her heart beat hard in her chest. She watched the stranger be guided to the fire where the old woman set her to work cutting roots.

The people of her own camp cast their eyes between the two enigmas, the woman with the light skin and the woman who was a warrior. Both were interesting in their own rights, though the response from Anpo was a thing to be discussed for some time.

Nupa studied his friend, feeling her lean into his hand where he still held her arm. Almost as if she could not stand on her own. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated, and he could see the beat of her pulse in her neck. "Is she the one?" he asked, knowing the answer.

Rousing from her stupor, Anpo inhaled deeply to fill her aching lungs with air. Her mouth snapped shut and it was all she could do to simply nod in response. Even though the woman had yet to look up at the surrounding camp, she knew. She will have eyes the color of a deep lake.

Her friend grinned widely and squeezed her arm again. "It is the time of your vision!" he exclaimed. "The sacred tatanka ska will be yours before the hunt is finished!"

The old woman, tired of being stared at, began yelling at the young men and women of the camp, picking up a piece of firewood to threaten them. They scattered and moved off, abuzz at this new topic of conversation.

Unbidden, Anpo was dragged off again by her friend. She put up no fight, her mind in an uproar.

Kathleen peered up at the people moving away from the old grandmother who was haranguing them. Ye're lucky ye've not made her angry, la.s.s, she thought, watching the ferocious old woman threaten to beat people with her stick. When the elder was finished, she turned to glare at her household and the blonde dropped her eyes. She diligently cut the vegetables she'd been given, hoping to not get hit. She hasn't hit me in the time I've been here, Kathleen reasoned, attempting to allay her fears.

Once the apparent danger had pa.s.sed, she relaxed into her task. She was almost able to pretend that she was still in her own home, preparing a nice supper for her husband. But the women and children speaking to one another brought back reality, their language a foreign noise impinging on her daydream.

Kathleen didn't know where the man had gone. He had disappeared once they'd reached this camp. The blonde continued her ch.o.r.e, wondering why they had joined with this other band of natives and what would happen now.

Unbeknownst to her, a pair of dark eyes watched her every move.

Anpo felt like a child as she spied on the pale woman from behind another ti ikceya. Memories of skulking around the camp with her pack of hoksila as they stalked their prey among the lodges came rushing back and she blushed. You feel like a child because you are acting like one.

But she did not walk away.

The young woman had insisted she was fine once she'd regained her voice. With a firm hand and words, she'd finally gotten Nupa to leave her at her mother's tent. And then she'd returned here, unable to keep away. She crouched behind a ti ikceya , peeking around and at the visitors' hearth.

It is like watching a dream come to life! she marveled. She is real! Not a spirit! Anpo chewed her upper lip in uncertainty. But.... What does it mean?

"See anything interesting?"

The young warrior shot up to her feet so fast, she almost toppled over. A warm hand grasped her upper arm to steady her and Anpo turned to look, wide-eyed at the interruption. She swallowed heavily. "Inyan!"

The shaman of her camp wore a crooked smile. "Hau , Anpo," he said by way of greeting. "I ask you again. Do you see anything interesting?"

Dark eyes darted back towards the firepit. The sun was beginning to set and the light from the flames seemed to spark the color of the strange woman's hair, producing an aura about her head. "Ohan , Inyan, I do," she finally whispered in response, her lack of the honorific wicahcala a measure of her unsettled state.

"Come with me, Anpo." When the young warrior didn't move, he tugged her upper arm, pulling her away. "We must talk."

Anpo allowed herself to be pulled away, tearing her gaze from the vision and flushing slightly at her own behavior. What is wrong with me!?

The shaman led his charge to his woman's ti ikceya. Rather than sit outside in the public eye, he drew Anpo inside and sat her on his left. There was a brief moment of unspoken conversation between he and his woman before she nodded and left the lodge.

The warrior was still in a daze after nearly an hour. It was obvious from the gla.s.sy eyed stare at the firepit. Inyan Ceye sighed, half in concern and half in humor. When he'd heard of the white woman that had come with Wicasa Waziya Mani's camp, he knew that Anpo would be in need of counsel. It was Nupa's arrival at his fire that caused the shaman to seek her out. Inyan set about the familiar task of smoking a pipe.

The stem thrust at her and his voice calling brought Anpo out of her mental anguish. She shook herself, bringing herself to the here and now and received the pipe. The two smoked in silence, the almost ritualistic feel of the situation serving to ground the young woman.

"She is the one," Inyan stated as he tapped the remains of the pipebowl into the firepit.

Swallowing hard, Anpo nodded. "Ohan, wicahcala . She looks just as I saw her four winters ago." Her dark eyes filled with awe. "How can that be? She is not much older than I."

"Now it is confirmed that you did, indeed, see the future in your vision, Anpo. Tell me, do you now look as the warrior woman who slew the tatanka ska?"

The young woman's eyes narrowed as she contemplated his question. Coming up with the vision in question, they widened. "I do!" she exclaimed in an almost strangled whisper. Before the shaman could respond, she focused on him intently. "If I can see my future, why can I not see why the woman calls me mahasanni ki?"

Inyan shrugged and tilted his head. "What wakan tanka wishes you to know will be told you. I do not presume to understand."

Sufficiently chastised, Anpo dropped her head. "I am sorry, wicahcala. I did not mean to --"

"Do not concern yourself, wikoskalaka ," the shaman said with a smile, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. "You are young and do not know the ways of the spirits. They do not begrudge you because of your ignorance."

The young warrior kept her head bowed, but nodded nonetheless.