The War Party

After a time, Ehawee begins trying make her skin harder, the way she could in her vision. After all, if she can demonstrate that she can't be harmed by arrows or guns, maybe the men will let her go with them. She feels something begin to happen, and then she sees it. Her skin slowly becomes thick and knobby, like no skin she has ever seen before. She looks a little startled by this, since it wasn't quite what she was expecting, and the people near her take a few steps back. She experimentally presses a finger against her skin, trying to gauge how tough it is, then draws her knife and, very carefully, presses it against her arm as well. The skin feels fairly tough, but she doubts if it would stop a well-shot arrow, let alone a bullet. She sheathes her knife, an expression of frustration on her face, then realizes that she is standing in a ring of staring tribesmen at this point, and everything has gotten very quiet.... She starts to feel rather self-conscious. "I thought maybe I could help," she offers quietly. "But it's not working like it...like I thought it would." She begins wishing she'd gone back to her teepee before trying this.

"Ehawee, yours is not to fight," the chief says. "That is warrior's work. See that Kohana's weapons are ready for him."

She nods, then pauses, looking uncertain. "But what if I have a warrior's spirit?" she asks, keeping her tone respectful, not argumentative. The last thing she wants to do is contradict the chief, but she honestly doesn't know if that would change anything. She looks over at the shamans, hoping one of them has an answer for her question, and a shaman answers her.

"Then you cast off your husband, and role as a woman, and walk a man's path. You would have to make your own teepee and find a wife."

Ehawee nods again, and makes her way back to her teepee, still feeling torn inside. The shaman didn't tell her if she has a warrior's spirit, after all, just what the consequences would be if she does. Lacking any other guidance, she looks to her heart...and her heart does not want to cast off her husband. She reasons that if that is so, then she must not have a warrior's spirit, and sets about making sure Kohana's weapons are ready. Trying not to think about how much she wishes she could go with him....

Once she's convinced that the weapons are ready, Ehawee does her best to ignore the urge to go back out and listen to the warriors again. In an effort to distract herself, she begins focusing on her skin once more, trying again to change it to be more like what she did in her vision. Just as she begins this, Kohana enters the teepee. He smiles at her, his expression a mix of love for her, and hatred for the whites. He grabs the weapons she has prepared for him. "I'm sorry you cannot go, Ehawee. I will bring back many fine scalps for you, to decorate our teepee with."

She gets to her feet and, with a bit of an effort, returns her skin to normal, wanting to look like herself for him before he goes. Hiding her nervousness and fear for him, she tries to show only love and confidence as she reaches up and caresses the side of his face that she didn't scar, careful not to mar the war paint he is wearing. "May you be like a winter's wind...strong and piercing but impossible to catch."

He kisses her long and hard before leaving, and Ehawee hears the war party thunder off shortly thereafter. She stands unmoving for several long minutes, staring at the flap through which Kohana departed. Then, with a bit of an effort, she forces herself to start moving again.

Not wanting to think about what might be happening to the war party, Ehawee tries to keep busy. She occupies herself for a time by preparing the meat she and Kohana brought in from the hunt, then goes through the teepee and makes sure that everything is packed and ready to go if they have to move unexpectedly. After all, she tells herself, no matter what happens, they'll be breaking camp soon anyway.

Somewhat at a loss once these tasks are done, she goes to Magaskawee's teepee, both for the company and to see if her sister-in-law needs anything. Magaskawee is happy for the company, and shares Ehawee's look of concern. She chatters idly about all of the things she'll have to do before and after the baby is born, to take both of their minds off of their worries, and keeps her hands busy with sewing baby clothes. Ehawee works on some of Kohana's mending, but her mind still wanders, and so intently is she listening for sounds of the war party returning that she starts at the slightest noise. This all makes for a very long afternoon for young Ehawee. She hasn't felt this awful since she was a child, when she learned that her mother had not returned home. That feeling of helplessness and fear is not something she ever wanted to experience again.

It is nearly dark before the thundering hooves of the returning war party shatter the stillness of the camp. At the sound, Ehawee drops her sewing and leaps to her feet, a look of hope and dread on her face. With an effort, she restrains herself from running out of the teepee as fast as her legs will carry her, waiting instead for Magaskawee to stand and join her. Magaskawee rises slowly, until both women recognize the whoops of their men outside. Then, they move like the wind, Ehawee racing towards the sound of Kohana's voice, trying frantically to spot him. She eventually finds him in the center of the warriors, whooping his victory and twirling a handful of fresh scalps in the air over his head. She grins from ear to ear at the sight of him, and lets out a whoop of her own before she can stop herself. Although she wants desperately to run up and throw her arms around him, she settles for grinning and waving until the men are finished celebrating, lest the ponies step on her.

When the men are done with their revelries, they return to their women to show off their trophies. Not all have returned, however. Ehawee can hear the wails of at least three new widows as Kohana wraps his arms around her and hugs her close. That just makes her hold onto him all the more tightly, happy beyond words that he's all right. She keeps her face pressed against him for a few moments, while she fights the inexplicable urge to laugh and cry at the same time. Finally, some measure of composure regained, she looks up at him and smiles. "I see you did well, my husband," she says, noting the scalps he carries.

"You will have to decorate our teepee with them at the new camp. We will have to start packing. The camp will be broken tomorrow morning and we will move, so the whites can't find us."

She looks a little sheepish. "I packed almost everything up already. I didn't think we'd be staying much longer here. But you must be hungry. Will you tell me of the battle while I'm making dinner?"

"Yes. And then we will have the evening for better things!" He tucks her under one arm and strides back to their teepee.

Ehawee's smile gets even wider at his words, and in her mind she again gives thanks that she didn't lose him. She quickly sets about preparing one of the animals they managed to catch earlier that afternoon...a time that now seems so much farther away...while Kohana weaves a grand, mostly embellished, tale of the battle with the white soldiers. As the food is ready, he comes to the end of his story. All of the white men were killed for their boldness, and their horses and guns taken, as well as their scalps. Only three of the tribe's warriors were lost. Ehawee looks very proud of him as she serves him his dinner. "Perhaps the whites will think better of coming onto our lands, now that they have lost so many of their soldiers to us."

"They will learn to respect our lands, even if we must kill them all!" he boasts.

Kohana bolts his dinner down, and starts pulling her dress off before she is quite through herself. Under the circumstances, she doesn't really mind, pushing what's left of her food far enough out of the way that she won't roll in it accidentally. He is rougher with her, in this round of love making, but somehow she seems not to mind as she loses herself to the overwhelming sensation of contact. Eventually, Kohana rolls off of her onto the furs, gasping happily. "This has been a good day," he says blearily.

She sighs happily, savoring the last, fading sensations. "Only because you came back to me."

"Mm," he says, rolling over and putting his arm around her. Soon he is breathing deeply, and she isn't long in following him, the events of the day finally catching up to her. She snuggles close to Kohana as she sleeps, unconsciously seeking reassurance that he is still with her, more shaken by the fight with the whites than she is willing to admit.

"Deadwood"
Ehawee's Page | Ehawee's Story

All text on this page is © 2001 by Kris Fazzari.

Last modified on May 29, 2001 by Kris Fazzari.