"You have questions, Anpo. They rise off of you like smoke from a fire. Perhaps I can help you...?"

Anpo collected her thoughts, tried to focus them in some constructive manner. "I do not know how to begin, wicahcala."

"Then look into the flames, Anpo. Use the fire to burn away the confusion and clear your mind."

The young warrior did as she was bade, staring into the firepit, meditating on her emotions and thoughts and soul. A long time pa.s.sed and Anpo could feel herself calming, her breath deepening as she relaxed.

The tatanka ska had disappeared. In its place was a strange woman with pale skin. Her hair was long, longer than Anpo'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 Anpo's women wore, buckskin and moccasins, her hair flowing freely in the breeze.

This strange apparition rose from where the white buffalo had lain, 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, b.l.o.o.d.ying her fingers. She reached forward and brushed the blood onto Anpo'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."

"When we hunt, will my killing the sacred tatanka ska hurt the white woman?" Anpo asked, her voice distant.

"I do not believe so. When she spoke to you in your vision, she used the phrase, 'Mahasanni ki .' She will know you well before she is wounded."

The warrior turned her head to look at Inyan. "She belongs to another, wicahcala. How is it that she would call me this? I cannot be a man to her. I am wikoskalaka, as is she." Her brow furrowed as she tried to comprehend the meaning of the vision.

"You are wikoskalaka, Anpo. As is she," the shaman agreed, nodding. "Perhaps it is because of the sacred tatanka that she will come to you. And perhaps you are destined to be close... closer than even maske .".

"Is that possible?" she asked in a small voice, returning her gaze to the fire.

"I believe so." Inyan began filling the bowl of his pipe with crushed, dried leaves.

I do not want to hurt her. I will not hurt her! "I will not go on the hunt."

The shaman paused in his task for a split second before continuing on. "Wi Ile Anpo, are you a warrior for the Lakota?"

Dark eyes blinked at the man. "What...? Ohan, wicahcala! Of course!"

"But you would not hunt for your people because the tatanka ska is waiting for you?" The warrior shied away from his question, and he continued. "You would deprive your ina, your ate, your tiospaye of much needed food for the coming winter?"

"Hiya, wicahcala," Anpo muttered, dropping her head in shame. "I would not."

"It is not easy to know of the future, wikoskalaka. It never is. But you cannot do anything to stop it." He skillfully lit his pipe and puffed on it in contemplation. "Did the white woman die in your vision, Anpo?"

The young woman frowned as she considered. "Hiya , Inyan. She was wounded by my hand and bleeding."

"I know that you do not have experience in the way of wicasa and winyan , Anpo," the shaman said, treading carefully. "You do not know that it is not unusual for a couple to hurt each other very deeply."

"My parents have not hurt each other, wicahcala," the warrior responded as she looked up, question in her eyes.

"Not with weapons, hiya. But with words, with actions. Their feelings have been hurt and though they might not bleed from a wound, they bleed inside." Inyan Ceye shrugged. "It is the natural way of things and helps people grow."

There was a long silence while Anpo digested this bit of information. "You believe that I will hurt this woman and that it will not be by my weapons...?"

Leaning forward, the shaman stared at her intently, capturing her eyes. "Do you believe that you could hurt her with a weapon?"

Anpo sat back in shock, dark eyes wide. "Hiya! I could not!"

"And you do not even know her yet," the man nodded sagely. He offered the pipe to the young woman and they smoked in silence.

"Because of the tatanka ska she will come to me. And we will come to know each other well. And then I will hurt her somehow, enough to make her bleed within," the young warrior intoned. "But she still cares for me, still calls me mahasanni ki...." Her eyes took on a look of wonder. I do not know if I am worthy of this gift.

The man nodded in agreement. "That would seem to be the way of it, wikoskalaka."

They finished the pipe in silence. When it was complete, Inyan Ceye tapped it out into the firepit. "Do you understand your vision more fully, warrior?"

"Ohan, wicahcala, I do." She rose to her feet and smiled at the elder. "Ask anything of me in return for your aid in this matter."

The shaman rose as well, a grin on his face. "I ask that you be happy, Anpo."

Smile softening at unseen emotions and images, the warrior responded, "I will, wicahcala."

Inyan Ceye had given her much to think about. Anpo's natural good spirits had returned and she arrived at her mother's ti ikceya with a lighter step. She found the women putting the final touches on a stew.

"Han , mitankala ," her sister called with a smile.

"Han, cuwekala ." Anpo squatted down next to the fire and collected the spearhead and stone she'd been working with earlier in the day. "It smells good, ina .".

Waniyetu Gi smiled at her youngest daughter. Using a carved wooden utensil, she dipped out a bit of stew and waved Anpo closer.

Obediently, the warrior leaned forward and took a taste. With closed eyes and a great appreciative look on her face, Anpo exclaimed, "Very good, ina! Yours will be the best at the feast!"

"Now you must taste mine, mitankala," Hca Wanahca insisted, holding a bit of pemmican close.

Anpo chewed on it, recognizing the taste of the berries they'd had for lunch a few days ago. "Mmmm, cuwekala. Your wansi is always tasteful!"

"They will make you fat and lazy, tanksi ," a familiar voice said with a laugh.

The young woman waved her friend closer. "Come try my cuwe's wansi, tiblo .".

Nupa, not able to pa.s.s up an opportunity to flirt with his friend's sister, stepped forward with a grin. He received a piece of the meat and fruit mixture from the blushing wikoskalaka, rolling his eyes in grat.i.tude.

Ignoring her sister's blush, Anpo glanced towards the council fire. "The people are beginning to gather."

"Hau," the warrior agreed with a nod. "Let's you and I join them."

The pair wandered towards the gathering, carrying robes to sit on. Behind them, Waniyetu Gi and Hca Wanahca collected their offerings for the feast and followed. Their fathers and the other elders from both camps were already seating themselves. Soon, only those not guarding the herd of ponies were at the council fire.

The chief, Wagmiza Wagna, sat in front of the tiopa of the council lodge. To his left and in the honored s.p.a.ce was Wicasa Waziya Mani and his advisors. To Wagna's right were the two messengers, Anpo and Nupa. The old chief stood and held his arms wide, garnering the attention of the people.

"Today is a very good day!" he exclaimed with a smile. "Our brave warriors, Anpo and Nupa," and Wagna gestured to the pair beside him, "have returned from their task and brought chief Mani to our fires." Here he turned to the younger chief who sat proud. "In two days we shall hunt the great tatanka and, perhaps our camp will be even more honored and one of our own will slay the sacred tatanka ska."

The gathered warriors yipped in excitement.

Anpo tried to control the blush she felt as most of the people from her camp looked to her with knowing smiles and nods. I may not kill the tatanka ska, she thought. It might not be the time. But deep in her heart she knew that was a falsehood.

"Let's the feast begin!" Wagna called.

The women of the joined camps began serving their men and brothers and sons. Among them was the white woman, causing quite a stir. The warrior who owned her was the recipient of many a ribald joke as the evening wore on, all of which he accepted with good nature.

But one warrior did not share the humor. Anpo ate her meal in silence, occasionally smiling and answering her friend and chief who spoke with her. And rarely did her eyes leave the blonde.

Chapter 4.

Tatanka Ska Ki.

(tah-tahn-kah skah kee).

The White Buffalo.

1777.

The morning of the hunt dawned clear and cool, a good omen. The warriors from the joined tribes gathered together before the council ti ikceya . The two shamans worked together to call down the blessings of wakan tanka upon the warriors surrounding them. The two chiefs were anointed with a special mixture of herbal oils, to aid them in leading their hunters with certainty and swiftness. A final pipe was smoked among the elders and honored. And then there was a loud outcry as the warriors leapt onto their hunting ponies and rode out of the camp. Hoksila pelted after them, calling out good luck to their favorites.

"You will slay tatanka ska !" Nupa called to his friend as they rode side by side. Other warriors of their camp called out in agreement.

Anpo's face was grim. "Only if it is to be, tiblo .".

Her friend nodded. "It is to be, tanksi ! You will be the honored one tonight!"

Soon, the party halted on a hilltop. Below them, a herd of buffalo grazed, easily two hundred head. The sacred white animal was difficult to spot among such a number.

Wicasa Waziya Mani called his own warriors together. "My people will attack from the south! Wait until I signal!" And they rode off.

The time pa.s.sed slowly for the anxious warriors remaining. All were peering at the herd, trying to locate the sacred buffalo. The men murmured back and forth as it bobbed in and out of sight. It seemed to take forever before a signal was seen from the opposing flank of the herd.

"Hokahe wana !" Wagmiza Wagna called and the hunters of his camp swooped down the low embankment, screaming their cries. Simultaneously, Mani's warriors did the same, resulting in a cacophony of sound and motion that startled the closest buffalo.

There was an immediate if confused response from the herd. Those nearest the advancing warriors started and milled about anxiously, searching for the cause of their distress. The beasts further away began to gently drift in the opposite direction, instinct picking up on their danger.

The first warrior, Mani himself, reached the herd. He flew along on the back of his hunting pony, the reins in his teeth and a nocked bow in his hands. As he neared a large bull, he let fly his arrow, automatically reaching to his leather quiver for the next. The arrow hit its target, striking from above the flank and ranging forward and down. It was a clear and strong shot.

The buffalo's heart was pierced and it shuddered before falling over. This seemed to signal the herd. The smell of blood, the noise of their surroundings, the thunder of horses' hooves - all resulted in the sudden stampede as they tried desperately to get away.

Mani did not stop as his steed raced past the dead beast. He targeted another and shot again. Behind and on the other side of the herd, the warriors did the same.

The first beast that Anpo took was a yearling bull. Her shot was clean and the animal was dead on its feet. As it tumbled over, disrupting the escape of its brethren behind, the woman urged her pony forward to her next target. The next was a cow, her calf lumbering along beside her as she tried to flee the ma.s.sacre. As Anpo nocked a third arrow, another cow nearby collapsed, her father's spear sprouting from its side.

Exhilarated despite the impending prophecy, Anpo turned on her steed long enough to grin and whoop at her father's success.

"Hau ! Anpo!"

The warrior's head whipped around. She found Nupa further ahead, yelling and gesturing wildly. Looking into the herd, she saw the sacred white buffalo almost materialize in front of her.

Things seemed to move in slow motion. While around it, the herd was stampeding, the white animal slowed to a walk. He is waiting for me!

Anpo looked about to see if any other warrior had noticed this strange behavior. Even as she pulled her horse in that direction, she saw three others veering towards the buffalo. One was a member of her own camp, an older man of an age with her father. The other two were from the joining camp - Mani himself and Hehaka Yatke, the man who owned the white woman.

As if this were a catalyst, time sped back up and Anpo's pony fairly flew towards the white buffalo that had eerily come to a halt. She took a deep breath to still her fluttering nerves and released the arrow.

Time crawled again as the warrior watched her arrow spin towards her target. Even over the sound of stampeding she thought she could hear three other bow strings loose their own missiles. The buffalo turned its head, a dark, liquid eye regarding her. And then it started as her arrow pierced its hide and drove deep - a true shot.

Anpo watched the animal shudder and topple over, her arrowhead piercing its heart. Two other arrows stuck out of the hide.

Though the hunt continued around her, Anpo pulled her steed up and dismounted, moving to the sacred animal. "Thank you, tatanka ska, for this great honor. My family will use your bone and meat and hide to survive the coming winter. And you will always be honored in my ti ikceya."

Around her was still pandemonium. Warriors sped past, hot on the trail of the animals crazed with fear. Her own pony pranced anxiously about at the ruckus. Yet, despite the last of the herd stampeding past, none disturbed Anpo and her kill.

With a careful hand, the young woman reached to the wound her arrow sprouted from. Taking blood on her fingertips, she drew two lightning bolts from her eyes to her chin. She remained in her place on her knees beside her kill, eyes closed as she continued to pay the sacred animal's spirit homage.

Eventually, the sound of horses roused her. Anpo inhaled deeply and opened her eyes, rising to stand. Several warriors from both camps arrived, whooping in excitement.

"Tanksi! I told you!" Nupa called, clearly elated at his best friend's success. "You have brought this camp much honor with wakan tanka!" He hopped off his horse and ran forward to clap Anpo on the back.

Others from both camps clambered off their mounts to congratulate the young woman. Anpo smiled and flushed from their praise. There was a pause in the well-wishing when the two chiefs arrived. Both, elder and younger, approached the carca.s.s and studied it, speaking softly to one another.

Wicasa Waziya Mani bent, whispered something to the bull, and yanked the arrow that had been his from the flesh. His teeth were bright against his dark skin as he approached the waiting warriors. "You have done well, wikoskalaka ," he said.

Nodding, Anpo responded, "Thank you, wicahcala .".

More horses thundered up as the rest of the men arrived. One threw himself from his saddle and angrily marched towards the knot of warriors gathered at the beast.

"The tatanka ska is my kill!" Hehaka Yatke argued. "I am the honored one! Not some wicincala !".

There was a collective gasp as Anpo was slurred. Even Yatke's chief turned to stare at his warrior, ashamed for his rudeness. "Yatke..." he growled, eyes flashing.

"Hoh , Mani!" the enraged warrior interrupted. "You might be willing to step aside for a wicincala pretending to be wicasa , but I will not! You saw the shot! You know I speak truly!"

"I know that you and I and two others all tried to slay the tatanka ska at the same time. Three arrows pierced the animal's hide." Mani spread his hands out, an apologetic look sent the young woman's way. "I know that my arrow was not deep enough to kill. I do not believe yours was either, Yatke."

The other man refused to back down. "I claim the tatanka ska," he insisted, arms crossed over his chest and chin jutting out in defiance.

"Then let the shamans ask the spirit of tatanka ska," came a clear voiced suggestion.