Chapter 1
The glow from the farmhouse window shone across the weathered oak tree. The shadows cast from the tree’s bare branches reached out toward Nashoba like hundreds of skeletal arms. She froze, and turned her gaze to the patterns in uneven mounds of white, carefully seeking out hidden meanings in the dark shapes. It was her people’s way to be wary of anything that could be read as an omen, and Nashoba held those traditions as close to her heart as she did the memory of her tribe.
Satisfied for the moment that the shadows were no more than random images in the snow, Nashoba sniffed at one of the larger footprints around the tree’s base. The tip of her muzzle dug at the imprint, catching clusters of cold flakes that chilled her sensitive nose where they touched. The faint scent of black powder and tobacco. The smell of man.
A growl rumbled deep in Nashoba’s throat and she moved on. She had a mission here, to scout out the pack’s new territory and assess the threat of the scattered Whites that festered in the valley. Nashoba couldn’t let her own hatred get in the way of her duty to the pack.
A crow squawked from atop the weathered barn, talons digging gently into the overhang just above the loft. Nashoba’s amber gaze narrowed as she studied the bird intently. The night was not the time for the keepers of the mysteries to be about, unless they had important secrets to reveal. Whatever the scavenger had to show Nashoba, she was certain it’d be worth the time it took to discover the meaning.
Padded paws shod with gray fur reformed into moccasin shod feet as Nashoba crept toward the barred doors. As her eyes turned from amber to deep brown, so did her sight lose the wolves edge to see through the darkness. The sliver of moonlight that brushed across the ebony sky was enough to give her a glimpse of barn door’s red stained wood. Nashoba carefully lifted the log that barred passage to whatever the Whites kept hidden inside.
The doors creaked open despite her cautiousness, and Nashoba muttered a prayer to the ancestors that the sound didn’t carry too far across the silent farm. Horses neighed nervously in their paddocks and cows stomped their hooves in fear of the strange woman with the predator’s smell. Nashoba shushed them, whispering that tonight they were not her prey.
Nashoba found herself cast into darkness as she shut the doors behind her. Many of the elders could retain their animal senses even when unshifted, but not her. Nashoba was a young shifter, not more than ten years past the rite that marked her stepping from the path of a child to that of a woman.
She’d often dreamed of learning that gift, to see as the animal even as she walked as the woman. The Whites took that hope away from her people when their bad magic ripped apart Nashoba’s tribe. Children, the elders, even the young mothers, the plague that tore through her home spared none. The plague brought upon the people of the Mother by the White soldiers.
In the beginning the solders were just like all the other Whites that had come before them. The black robes arrived with their big black book that led many of her tribe’s men away with promises of power and glory. The White traders came with their alcohol and fancy talk that sent many of her people spiraling into an endless pit of drinking and debt. But in the end, the soldiers turned out to be the worst with their meaningless words and their poisoned trades. They attacked the people without provocation, citing clams to land that belonged to the ancestors of the Mother’s people, not to these strangers.
When the warriors of her tribe fought back at the soldiers’ fort they succeeded. With the warriors’ cries of victory they also returned with a sickness that killed all of her people save herself and two others of the mature shifters. The gifts of the elders were gone, lost forever as the last of the grandmother shifters left the lands of the people to join the ancestors.
It took time for her eyes to adjust to the dim moonlight that crept in through the cracks in the door and loft so she could to scan the barn for a better source of light. On a bench was an oil lamp, and once she lit the wick, the lamplight proved to be enough to allow Nashoba to continue her search without drawing too much attention.
Most of what was in the sturdy structure was unremarkable. There were the feed bags for the animals stacked on boxes in the corner and bridles hanging from the walls just above them. Shovels and pitchforks leaned against the far wall near buckets and mounds of hay. Nothing out of place. Nothing out of the ordinary. Had she somehow mistook the crow’s message? Had she been away from her people so long she could no longer read the signs?
And then she saw it, hidden under a pile of canvas. It was a large saddle with the familiar U.S. stamped into the polished leather. Just beneath it was a weathered blanket with the same symbols dyed into the thick gray wool. This place held one of her most hated enemies. A soldier.
Nashoba gripped the edge of the blanket as if to crush it with her strength alone. She and the others of her new pack bore their scars as a price for their survival, making them as the women chosen to avenge the people. Many soldiers died under the tooth and claw of her new pack, but still, it never seemed like it was enough. Nothing would ever be enough to wash away the memories. The pain of watching her pregnant wife die in her arms. The torment of watching her two sons slowly whither away in misery until she fed them poisoned tea just to end their suffering
So caught up in her rage and the wounds of her own mourning, Nashoba never heard the double doors of the barn open, nor the footfalls as the man entered. The sound of someone cocking a rifle was enough to draw her gaze. When she saw the figure in the doorway Noshoba reached slowly for her belt sheath.
“I don’t need any trouble, miss. Just take your hand away from the knife. Nice and easy.”
Even as the meaningless words passed over her, Nashoba’s gaze traveled down the steel muzzle of the rifle and over the ivory shirt, to rest on the man’s face. His grip on the barrel was steady, but his deep blue eyes held worry as he stared at the hand that still gripped the antler handle of the blade. She understood bits and pieces of the White man’s tongue, and this one rambled on like they all did…when they knew they were about to die.
Nashoba continued to study the man. He was built like a farmer. The cut of his form was lean, and she could see his heavily muscled upper arms and shoulders through the White shirt he wore. It wasn’t until she noticed the familiar deep blue wool pants marked on each side with double yellow stripes that she knew that she’d found the soldier. Not just any soldier, a cavalryman. The enemy.
Her anger boiled up inside her so quickly, Nashoba didn’t even bother to shift into a battle form for the attack. She leapt at the soldier, startling him and nearly making him lose footing in the slick snow as he took a step back. She heard the blast of the musket go off, felt the heat, but it didn’t matter. The man cried out as her blade sunk deep into his shoulder, missing its mark at the last minute as he twisted desperately out of the way of her blow.
The deadly grapple took both combatants back through the open double doors where they each struggled for dominance in the snow. Fresh blood tinged the carpet of white pink as her blade tore across his skin. The soldier’s fist connected with Nashoba’s jaw and the side of her head several times. She felt nothing, saw nothing, too numb with hate to notice the hand that slowly lifted the rifle off its resting place in the open doorway and raised into the air.
The blast caught Nashoba’s attention at the same moment she felt the soldier stop struggling. She knelt over the wounded man, her knife gripped tightly in her hand. In the light from the moon she saw a woman, the pale illumination silhouetted the woman’s shape through the thin cotton nightgown. It was a beautiful body, like the figures of the Mother Nashoba used to sculpt in clay before her soul faded away.
“Please.” The woman’s voice was soft, and though the gun shook in her hands there was no fear in those pale eyes. “Don’t.”
The man moaned and both Nashoba and the White woman’s eyes turned to him. Nashoba knew the word “please”. She didn’t remember where she’d heard it before, but it was a gentle word, and coming from this woman’s lips there was a sincerity that gave Nashoba pause.
The woman spoke again, but these words were less clear, each said in the same forcibly calm tone. The woman kept the gun trained on Nashoba and followed her with her eyes. Did this man know the strong spirit that lived in his lodge, the spirit that even now stood shivering in the winter air to defend him?
They stayed there in a thick silence that seemed to reverberate in the air around them for a long time. Nashoba bent over the injured soldier but watched his protector closely. The White woman’s strength and bearing fascinated Nashoba, not so unlike that of the women of her own Clan.
Then the woman did something that stunned Nashoba beyond anything she could have expected. She bent down and slowly set the gun back into the snow, her eyes locked with Nashoba’s. “Please.”
Nashoba blinked several times in amazement and then slowly backed away from the fallen man. She clenched the blood covered knife as she slowly retreated, her gaze never leaving that of the pale spirit woman. No normal White woman faced possible death with that courage did they? She’d heard the Whites taught their daughters to be weak and subservient to their men, but this? This meant something, but Nashoba didn’t know what. Not yet.
Without another glace toward the soldier man Nashoba turned away from the woman and raced up the hill. She didn’t shift back to the wolf until she was clear of the first line of trees and certain to be well out of sight. The pack had to know, about the soldier and about the strange woman.
***
May knew Sergeant Jerkins was a strictly disciplined man, trained from a very young age to face pain unflinchingly. Even so, the wounds carved into his body by the sharp flint knife caused him to wince and hiss through gritted teeth as she gently helped him onto the aged ottoman.
“Hand me my gun, May.” He muttered in a nearly inaudible voice.
May shook her head, doing her best to make him as comfortable as she could. “Now you be still, Joe. I don’t know how deep these cuts are and you squirming around like this isn’t helping at all.”
Joe grumbled, but allowed her to turn him over carefully while she removed the blood soaked shirt. “That monster might be back. Keep the gun close just in case.”
“She wasn’t a monster.” May poured water into a ceramic washing bowl from the pitcher on the table, her thoughts going back to what she’d seen outside. The person who’d attacked her brother-in-law had most certainly been female, but unlike any woman May had even seen before. With skin and eyes the color of tree bark, the strange woman had been like a part of the land itself. “She seemed very angry, Joe. Did you know her? Do you know why she did this?”
“Don’t talk crazy.” He grimaced as May dabbed a damp cloth on the shoulder wound to get a better look at the damage. “I think I’d remember meeting someone like that.”
May forced a smile, hoping to lighten the mood. Joe’s Clan blood would help him heal quickly and none of the wounds looked life threatening. “Yes, a woman like that is certainly memorable. You think she could’ve been Clan like you?”
“No.” An odd expression crossed Joe’s face and his eyes narrowed. “If she had been Clan she’d have taken her battle form before she attacked and I’d be dead. I may carry the blood of the Clan in my veins, but only the woman can shift, remember?”
“I know, I know.” The fire crackled in the hearth, causing May to jump in surprise and dump some of the pinkish water into her lap. Joe did his best to suppress a laugh at her mishap, but she could see the twinkle in his eyes. “Now look at this mess. You just stay put while I go change and get some fresh water.
May knew he found her amusing, the city girl from Dublin trying to make it on the frontier. Her sister was far more suited to the country, staying home to help their father with the farm while May attended school in London. Joe and Helen had been so happy, but then Helen got sick and made May promise to look after Joe when she was gone.
She wrung out the cotton gown before rubbing the blood spot with a bar of soap. It was a vain attempt to rid herself of one more stain in what used to be a far more orderly life. Glancing into the mirror May imagined the dark eyes of the wild woman staring back at her, and the image made her shiver. Whether it was from fear or pleasure, in truth May just didn’t know.
There was such strength and power there in those wild eyes, like a violent storm begging for release. Yet, there was sadness there too, a lost look like one who had no hope left. Joe mentioned seeing the canine tracks, like a big dog in the snow, yet no sign of the woman’s feet until they reached the barn. If she was one of Joe’s Clan, why had she attacked him in a human form? Why hadn’t she shifted?
Dressing quickly, May poured a fresh bowl of water and headed down the stairs to the parlor. Joe sat up on the sofa and she watched as he moved his injured shoulder in a slow arch as if to test it. “Now, now, don’t push it. The knife dug awfully deep.”
“I’m not doin’ no harm.” He protested, but laid back and kept his arm still. “I don’t want you to go out there until I’m able to look after you proper.”
“Then who will feed the animals, pray tell?” May pursed her lips and shook her head, setting the bowl on the end table. “She could have killed you, Joe. She didn’t. Even if she does come back I don’t think she will attack again.”
May heard him mutter something about idealistic city girls, but he didn’t say anything directly to her. She decided not to push it. Instead May turned the subject back to what she really wanted to know. “So what do you think of those tracks?”
“The tracks?” Joe shifted position and looked up at her, concern returning to his gaze. “Wolf. A small gray wolf I’d guess. They’re the most common here.”
”So, where’d it go? Did you see any tracks away from the barn?”
In a sigh of exasperation, Joe closed his eyes and was silent for several moments. Then he shook his head reluctantly. “No, I didn’t.”
She dipped the clean cloth into the water, and wrung it out. Focusing on the task gave her an excuse not to meet his gaze. “Then she could be one after all. One of the shifters.”
Silence settled in the room for a long time, heavy with the mixture of sorrow and hope between the two people. Finally he spoke, barely above a whisper. “Yes, May. She could be after all.”
***
“Should have seen the look on the ole bastard’s face when he saw me. I didn’t have to lift a claw. He ran for the river and left the whole wagon load plus the horses.”
A chorus of laughter followed the storyteller’s remarks and Nashoba smiled at the sound of it. It was comforting to be back with the pack again, even if she knew she’d have to face the Council for what had happened tonight.
Nashoba passed the line of trees and slipped out of the primal wolf shape, accepting a clay bowl from a packmate as she passed. The scent of cornbread and stew invoked a loud rumble in her stomach, reminding Nashoba that it’d been many hours since she last ate.
“I hope whoever you faced looks worse then you.” A quartet of eyes turned from the fire to follow the slitted gaze of the storyteller as she studied Nashoba’s injuries.
“I imagine he does.” Nashoba dipped her bread into the stew and avoided meeting the eyes of the women. “Anyone seen Sehenitah?”
The storyteller, Poharas, pointed a red fur covered hand toward the Council’s hut on the hill to the east. The circular building with its grass thatched roof loomed above the other buildings like a herdsman over her flock. In many ways it did look over the pack of many tribes. That was one of the reasons when they decided on this spot a few days ago it’d been the first structure built. “Liemoro and our sisters returned from their scouting mission and are speaking to her and Mytiria now. I’m sure they would want to hear what you found, sister.”
“Yes, of course.” Nashoba knew there was no sense it putting it off. They would want to know about the soldier and what threat his family posed to the pack. Trouble was, she wasn’t sure of the answer herself.
When Nashoba reached the meeting place Mytiria, Liemoro, Sehenitah, and three other women were coming out of the hut, talking in low whispers. When Sehenitah noticed Nashoba her eyes widened. “Sister, what has happened?”
“I had a run in with a soldier.” Nashoba averted her eyes from the other women, but she could feel Mytiria’s piecing stare bore into her suspiciously. The battle leader was most difficult to trick even on the best of days. “Nothing to worry about.”
Sehenitah pulled her medicine pouch from her shoulder and placed her hand in the small of Nashoba’s back, guiding her into the hut. Mytiria ordered the other shifters to go, and then followed the healer inside.
“It’s not worth fussing over.” Nashoba protested, but at the stern look from Sehenitah, held her tongue.
“How did you come to fighting this soldier, daughter of the Choctaw? Was there trouble while you hunted?” Sehenitah ground some large, dried leaves in her stone bowl as she spoke and nodded for Nashoba to sit on one of the sleeping pallets. The meeting place also was serving as a place to treat the ill, until they could finish Sehenitah’s home.
Nashoba took a deep breath and nodded solemnly. “Yes, Sehenitah. I had only meant to learn more about the people in the big house, but when I saw the soldier my rage filled me.”
“One more dead soldier sounds like nothing to feel shame over, sister.” Mytiria slipped a piece of dried smoked fish from her hip pouch and lazily chewed on it.
“The soldier is not dead.” Nashoba was careful to meet only the eyes of the healer as she explained. “He had a woman of great medicine at his hearth, and at her request I spared his life.”
The roar of anger from Mytiria was enough to shake bits of bark and mud from the walls. “Did their kind spare our women and children when they came to our lands Nashoba? Did their God have mercy when your wife and sons fell to the White man’s sickness?”
The last words struck Nashoba in the chest as surly as if it had been Mytiria’s spear. “I don’t know why her words stopped me. I wanted to kill him, needed to…but I didn’t.”
Nashoba could already see Mytiria’s shiny black hair glimmering with luminescent crow feathers, her taloned hands clenching and unclenching in anger. Sehenitah must have seen the beginnings of Mytiria taking her battle form as well, for she stepped forward between her and Nashoba. “There will be no blood spilt in this place, Sister Crow. Of all of us, Nashoba knows the evil the White can do, and if she spared him, then I trust her heart.”
“And if the White soldier brings more of his kind here as revenge for the attack? Will you trust her heart then?” Mytiria shreaked in barely controlled rage.
Nashoba stood and moved past the healer to face Mytiria. “I will go back to the place of the soldier and watch. If he gathers other Whites there against us I will kill them before I allow harm to come for my pack.”
Mytiria stared into Nashoba’s gaze for a long time, but even in the piercing stare of the battle master, Nashoba held her ground. Finally, seemingly satisfied, Mytiria nodded and her posture relaxed. “We all have our deep rage we have to contain as we can. As you can see, my sister, I am no different. But no mater what, we have to protect the pack. We take what we can so that we will survive. For now we take food and supplies, but soon we must claim more if we are to grow into a force to be reckoned with.”
“More?” Nashoba got the feeling that in her absence she’d missed something that might make the words of their leader clearer.
Sehenitah sighed and pushed the poultice of leaves and sacred oils into a large burn on Nashoba’s arm left by the muzzle blast. “This is not the time to discuss such things. The Council is not fully agreed on whether we will even be staying in the valley once winter has passed, nor on what needs to be done if we choose to remain.”
“This valley has good hunting and offers our pack much protection from our enemies.” Mytiria scowled and shook her head. “But you are right, this is not the time. Rest Nashoba, and listen to our healer. We shall talk later.”
Nashoba watched Mytiria slip past the canvas door and wondered at the tension she felt between their two leaders. Since the women of the tribes came together as a pack, she’d never seen their battle and mystic leader at odds…until now. What was this big secret and what would it do to her pack if left undealt with? “I know it’s not my place to ask, Sehenitah, but I’m concerned about the fate of our people. Is there something I should know about all of this, a way I can help?”
“There is nothing you can’t ask us, sister, but there are some things that are not ready to be spoken of.” Sehenitah slowly wrapped a piece of light hide around the poultice and tied several laces on the underside of Nashoba’s arm to hold it in place. “I can tell you a time for choices is coming, and we must be ready. Trust your heart, Nashoba. Always remember to trust your heart.”
Nashoba stared at the medicine woman, but Sehenitah didn’t look up from the bowl of water she was dipping the cloth into. Had the ancestors shown her something, something about their people….about Nashoba? Something she was unable to reveal?
“Leave this on over night, and come to me in the morning so I can reapply the poultice. Use the salve for the smaller cuts and bruises. In a few days even the burn should be gone.”
Sensing the meeting was over and that the time had come to go, Nashoba accepted the ceramic jar of salve and thanked Sehenitah. There was nothing else she could do for her pack but heal up and get back to the task of protecting their territory with the other hunters. As for the White farm and the soldier? Nashoba wasn’t done there. Not yet.
Chapter 2
May sighed at the untidiness of the farmhouse as she gathered up the clothing scattered about. She might be a fair enough cook, but an organized housekeeper she wasn’t. Her father and sister used to joke that any husband she found would have to be a scholar or inventor, someone to whom clutter was a form of comfort. May had never found a man who suited her fancy, and even with all the teasing, she knew her family worried she’d end up alone and unhappy.
She wasn’t alone, even now that her sister and father were gone, but was she really happy? Her brother-in-law was a fine man, but the death of his wife had affected him deeply. May knew Joe had earned much of his rank because he took risks most of the other men wouldn’t. His superiors saw it as bravery, but May wondered if it was the sign of a man who believed he had nothing left to lose.
May glanced up and watched as Joe pulled himself up on his horse and stared out over the treeline. The wolf had come everyday for several weeks now, and Joe was determined to find its den. May knew he no longer thought it was a danger to the livestock. The wolf hadn’t come closer than the trees and seemed content to do nothing more than watch them go about their daily business.
Joe also avoided any talk about the possibility of it being one of the Clan. He said it was likely a loner, shunned from a local pack. May saw the way he watched the wolf as intently as it watched him, and she often saw what looked like a twinge of hope in his eyes. Did he, like May, harbor the secret wish that the wolf was much more than it appeared? That the Clan was close, even here in this strange new place?
Joe rode away and May’s eyes widened as she remembered she was going to ask him to bring her some water to heat up for dinner and washing. She threw on her coat and pushed the heavy front door open with her foot. The winter air hit her hard in the face and May felt a shiver run down her whole body. She yelled after him, but the wind took her words. He rode out of sight, giving no sign of having heard her at all.
Closing the door, she muttered in irritation. The laundry wasn’t going to do itself and there was dinner to get on as well. The pump was always a tad temperamental, but in the winter there was no working with it at all. Fortunately the main river wasn’t more then a mile away and several smaller streams flowed from it near their farm.
She couldn’t wait until spring came if nothing more then it meant they’d no longer have to fetch water in the bitter cold. May slipped on Joe’s spare heavy leather riding gloves and grabbed the two buckets from next to the door. She had to admit she’d never tried to hitch a team up before, but hitching a single horse to one of the small wagons to just fetch water? How hard could that be?
***
Nashoba watched in silent amusement at the White woman struggled to coax the horse through the double doors of the barn with the rickety cart dragging behind it. It was fairly obvious she hadn’t had much experience with the creature. Stubbornly the woman trudged on until the horse relented and let her lead him out into the snow without protest. By the time the pair reached the old oak one side of the cart pulled loose and dumped several of the cargo of buckets into the snow.
After some experimentation, the cart seemed finally in place and the woman led the horse past the barn and out through the barren field. Nashoba kept parallel with them, and several times the woman met the wolf’s gaze as they walked. The horse eyed Nashoba warily, but the woman smiled, and seemed to find the strange companion’s presence comforting. At least Nashoba guessed that to be so by the woman’s relaxed posture as they walked.
It didn’t take long for them to reach the stream at which point the woman began to unload buckets from the cart. One after one the pails were set along the river’s edge. Nashoba could tell by the number of them that the woman needed quite a lot of water to care for her tribe. It was sad to think of how the Whites lived, so separate from the rest of their kind, no sisters to laugh and talk with as they gathered water to feed their family.
The woman bent low over the ice, chipping away at it surface with a metal tool. Nashoba watched warily as the chips of ice flew into the air until she’d made a sizable hole. The woman bent over the hole carefully from her spot on the bank and filled the first bucket. Nashoba crossed the silent stream on a fallen tree, her sensitive ears picking up the sounds of moving water from underneath the ice.
Looking up, Nashoba noticed one of the woman’s feet touched the icy surface as she reached for a second bucket. Sharp cracking sounds rippled all around and Nashoba barked out a warning. The woman didn’t seem to hear, or perhaps understand. Nashoba barked loader and even over her own ruckus, she could hear the sound of the breaking ice as the space between the man-made hole and the bank disappeared.
There was barely time for the woman to cry out before the frenzied current that the quiet ice hid beneath it gripped her and pulled her under. Nashoba followed the image of the terrified figure beneath the ice. She pushed her wolven legs to carry her past the struggling woman so she could find a place to break through and pull her free.
Nashoba’s heat pumped madly with the effort as she raced death herself for the fate of the stranger. Her muscles cried out in protest, but she was able to leap past a tight bend in the stream and land on a flat boulder in the center where the water flowed freely around it. In less then a breath, Nashoba’s body moved from the smaller wolven shape through that of the woman, until her battle form burst through, a hybrid of all she was.
Powerful fur-covered fists punched through a section of ice and claws dug into the thick coat the woman wore as Nashoba pulled her free of the water that wished to claim her.
Nashoba choked back a gasp of horror as the woman dangled limp from her powerful arms. Had she been too late? Had Death claimed Her prize?
Nashoba pulled the woman close in an attempt to warm her against her thick chest fur. There was no movement in the woman’s chest, no sign of her drawing breath. Nashoba didn’t know why she feared the loss of this stranger so deeply, but she didn’t stop to think on it too long. Chanting low, and rocking softly, she called to the spirits of that land around them to give back the stranger so that the woman might learn their ways.
Time seemed to stand still as the screech of the wind echoed her song. Nashoba was awash with relief as the woman coughed, expelling a gush of water onto the rock. The river had carried her far from the farm, and Nashoba was certain she wouldn’t survive the trip back in this cold. The trouble was her own home wasn’t much closer, but there she had Sehenitah. Surely the healer would help this woman.
Did she dare take the stranger back to the pack’s camp? Was it any safer for her there then it would be for Nashoba at the soldier’s place? The risk was high, but then she knew the alternative was far worse. As the sun fell the cold would turn lethal, and in her weakened state the woman would never survive alone. Sehenitah was their only hope.
Pulling her arms around the woman, Nashoba braced her body against the wind and ran toward her village. Once she got there she’d worry about getting in unseen, if that was even possible. All of her sisters had lost much to the Whites, and Nashoba was certain bringing one of their women to the pack’s haven would not go over well at all.
The woman moaned and shivered violently. Nashoba held the woman tighter, whispering a prayer to the Mother to show mercy and keep them both safe. The words the woman spoke were no less alien then before, but the tone of them was like one who was fevered. Nashoba still spoke words of comfort as she sprinted toward the home of her pack, knowing the woman would never understand her.
As they drew near Nashoba heard the sound of voices coming from the central fire, but it was quiet on the east side of the village where her lodge sat. She built her home far away from the communal areas, and in times when Nashoba wanted to be alone, she was glad for its solitary location. Today, Nashoba was especially thankful to be far away from the laughter and prying eyes. She was beginning to have doubts about revealing to anyone that the White woman was among them, even Sehenitah.
Slipping past the door flap, Nashoba sat the woman on the leather covered floor next to her sleeping platform. She quickly stripped off the waterlogged coat and wool clothing underneath it, tossing them aside. Nashoba’s wet fur clumped together against her skin, but she ignored her own discomfort. She laid the woman on the platform and covered her with all the wool blankets and furs she could gather.
Her own fur faded away as Nashoba took the form of a woman again. She turned her attention to the task of building up the hearth fire. Nashoba stayed close to the woman as she tended the kindling, glowing red with each of her soft breaths
“Nashoba, it’s Sehenitah,” came the insistent voice of their medicine woman. Nashoba’s heart seemed the freeze in her chest and she held her breath. “May I come in?”
“I…” Nashoba closed her eyes and pulled her hands from the fire she’d been tending. Sehenitah knew, somehow. Would the medicine woman tell the others the White woman was here? Would they try to take her from Nashoba’s lodge? “Do you come to my home as my leader or a healer?”
Silence stretched on through the sound of the cracking flames, and then Sehenitah’s soft voice finally replied. “The Mother’s daughter needs me. That is all that matters for now.”
Nashoba glanced back at the woman under the pile of furs. In the pale light from the fire she saw her shift in her sleep and moan. This was not something she could handle alone. “Come in.”
***
Warmth was the first sensation May was aware of as she stirred from her deep slumber. Every part of her from the chest down felt heavy, as if weighted down. Voices whispered in the distance, speaking in beautiful tones word May didn’t understand. A soft hand touched her forehead and cheek, and May opened her eyes.
What May saw was a shock. This was not the farmhouse, but a cone shaped room made from animal skins and a wood frame.. Next to her was a woman May had never seen before. Her skin was the color of fertile soil, and the hand that came away from May’s face had an earthy smell to it too. This woman’s eyes were as black as tar, but full of kindness and concern.
May looked down and realized the heavy weight she’d felt was the piles of furs thrown over her as blankets. The same thick furs covered the platform she rested on. May didn’t know how she got to this place, but from the looks of it she wasn’t leaving any time soon.
The realization that this didn’t bother her came as quite a surprise to May. There was a feeling of safety here, of comfort. Everything about this stranger was soft and gentle, from the way her long hair fell around her round face, to the smile she gifted May with when the woman noticed she had woken.
“Where am I?” May asked, but the woman gave no sign of understanding the words. She patted May’s arm through the furs and turned to speak to someone behind her.
May glanced over the stranger’s shoulder and gasped. There tending a fire in the center of the hide room was the woman who’d come to the farm just a few short weeks ago. The woman who May was sure had been visiting their home since as the gray wolf. At the strange words she turned to face May and nodded
Orange light from the fire danced across the wolf woman’s face, flashing in her eyes in a way that made them glimmer dangerously. May shivered at the intensity of those eyes. The smaller woman next to May seemed to take it as a sign she was cold and reached for another fur from near the foot of the platform.
“No, I’m fine.” May insisted, shaking her head as the woman added the fur to the pile. “Please, no more.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed in confusion and she said something to her companion. The wolf woman shrugged and replied. May sighed in frustration as the two women spoke in the strange language. She knew several foreign tongues, but this was like nothing she’d heard before. There had to be a way to communicate with them.
May struggled to sit up, but the weight of the furs proved to be too much. She got one arm from under the covering, and pulled the top layer from the pile.
“It’s too much,” May said. “I can’t move.”
The earth woman look even more confused than before, but the wolf woman nodded and moved from the fire. She pulled back several layers of furs until May was able to sit comfortably. The hide wrap she wore felt strange against her skin, unlike the wool and cotton dresses she was used to wearing. May couldn’t help but admire the delicate white and blue beading that framed the neckline and cuffs, or the intricate quillwork over the chest that depicted water birds in flight.
“Thank you.” May leaned forward as the wolf woman stuffed the rolled furs behind her back for her to rest against. “Much better.”
May looked up and started as her eyes met the gaze of the wolf woman. There was a wildness there, a ferocity that made her heart pound and her breath catch in her chest. The danger excited her, made her want more. May tried to pull her eyes away, but the draw of the woman was too strong. She reached her hand up and touched the wolf woman’s cheek. Instead of the rough bark-like skin she’d expected to find, it was soft and warm.
At her touch the wolf woman closed her eyes, and May found herself free of the intense stare. There was something so vulnerable about the woman now as she kneeled there, her cheek pressed into May’s palm.
“What is your name?” May whispered.
The wolf woman opened her eyes, and May was relieved to find her gaze had grown softer. She stared at May, as if willing herself to understand the words that were likely as strange to her, and these women’s beautiful language was to May.
“I’m May.” May patted her chest several times. “May.”
The wolf woman turned to the earth woman and they began to talk. After a few moments the wolf woman turned back to May and nodded.
“Sa hohchifo ut Nashoba,” The wolf woman said. She hit her chest four times. “Nashoba.”
Nashoba pointed to the earth woman. “Sehenitah.” Several words followed this that May didn’t understand.
Sehenitah smiled, and gently touched her bosom. “Sehenitah,” she whispered. May nodded and smiled in reply, and once again the two men went back to speaking to each other in their own language.
Well, that was a mercy anyhow, May thought. At least they had names to go off of. She just wasn’t sure how far that would take them in the long run. She still wasn’t sure how she’d gotten here. May vaguely remembered falling into the stream. The wolf had been there. Nashoba. That had to be how she’d come here, but why? They didn’t seem to want to hurt her.
The trouble was, with no way to talk to them, there was no way to get word back to Joe. May could only guess how frantic he would be when he found her gone. Would he come searching for her? Nashoba didn’t seem to like Joe much, even when as a wolf she came to the farm she seemed to watch him with suspicion. What would happen if Joe found his way here?
“I wish I knew how to talk to you both.” May sighed and crossed her arms over her bent knees. Sehenitah stopped talking and looked up at May sympathetically. There was something in her expression that made May wonder if in someway this woman did understand her frustration.
Sehenitah got to her feet and slipped through the flat that served as the door. May found herself disconcerted at being suddenly alone with a woman who affected her in such a strange way.
May froze as Nashoba leaned forward to reach behind her. Nashoba’s hair tumbled over one shoulder as she stretched out, revealing a long neck set in muscular shoulder. Unlike Sehenitah’s earthy smell, Nashoba reminded May of a new pair of leather boots.
Nashoba’s was a primal scent that reminded May childhood dreams of fae circles, and satyrs dances, the places parent tell their children never to go. Everything about this woman spoke of wild forbidden knowledge, of secrets and mysteries known only to those who walked with the elements and hunted in the dark places told of only in legend.
May wanted to know of these things too, to go to these forbidden places. The urge filled her with such ferocity it frightened her. May had spent her life as a proper lady, a scholar, she knew nothing of such things.
“Ishko.” Nashoba opened a clay jar and set the flat top aside. Within the jug May could see water. Just the sight of it made her thirsty, and when Nashoba looked at her questionably, May understood.
“A drink? Yes, please,” May said and pointed at the clear liquid inside the jug. “Water?”
Nashoba took what looked to be a large shell from a nearby bag and dipped it into the water. She held the shell up to May’s lips and watched as she drank deeply. When May finished, Nashoba set the shell aside, never taking her eyes off of May.
“What?” May scowled. Nashoba was most certainly curious about her, but May wasn’t sure she liked being stared at as if she were an oddity.
“Champuli,” Nashoba said.
The kiss was unexpected.
At first May froze, unsure what to do. It wasn’t like May hadn’t ever been kissed before, but this was much more than an innocent peck on the cheek because of a schoolboy crush. May could feel Nashoba’s hot breath on her face, and the warmth of her lips. The sensation sent a tremor through her body and she opened her mouth slightly to let out a quiet sigh.
Nashoba chuckled, and the vibration that followed tickled May’s lips in a pleasant way. Their eyes met and without a thought, this time it was May who leaned in for the kiss. Nashoba’s hand slipped under May’s hair to just beneath her ear, and cupped her head.
May fell into the kiss, swept up in a wave of something she couldn’t explain. She’d dreamt of finding a man who made her burn inside with a touch, and here was this woman who awakened that fire with something as simple as a kiss. May fell back on the furs and Nashoba bent over her, their lips never releasing their erotic dance.
Nashoba trailed feathery light kisses across May’s cheek. She whispered something and May moaned as the hot breath caressed her ear.
“I wish I understood you.” May sighed.
Nashoba pulled her head up and blinked in surprise. “What did you say?”
It was May’s turned to be shocked. “I said I wish I understood you. I just did. I understood what you said.”
“I thought you didn’t speak the tongue of my people?” Nashoba’s gaze turned dark. “Why did you pretend not to?”
“I most certainly did not pretend.” May sat up and did little to hide the indignant tone in her voice. “I don’t understand a word of it. You’re telling me you’re not speaking English right now?”
“I never learned the words of the Whites. My wife knew them, but she left for the lands of the ancestors.”
May understood the words, but some of the meanings still didn’t make sense to her. “Lands of the ancestors?”
Nashoba stared at her for what felt like a long time and then her expression softened. “The sickness of the Whites took my family, my wife and my sons, the winter before last. The lands of the ancestors is where my people go when they die. Do the White not join their beloved dead when death comes for them too?”
“I guess we do.” May thought of her sister. Helen had believed very strongly in God and heaven, but the study of science had caused May to doubt much of her family’s traditional beliefs. “I’m sorry to hear of their passing. My sister got sick last year and left us just before spring. That’s why I came to live here with my brother-in-law.”
“He is not your mate?”
May shook her head. “If you mean husband, no. I never found one of those. Not that I was looking for one. So, back to the fact I can understand you. How is it possible?”
May received no answer for a long time. Nashoba turned away and stared down at her open palm, as if searching for answers there. When she met May’s questioning gaze a mix of sadness and acceptance filled Nashoba’s eyes.
“The kiss,” Nashoba muttered. “When I was young I heard tales of medicines women who came together with ancient elemental spirits. It is said that through kisses and more they learned the sacred magic and speech. It’s supposed to be a rare bond, and only possible with the most gifted of mystics. I’m no mystic.”
“Well, neither am I.” May frowned. “I don’t even believe in magic.”
Nashoba laughed. “You don’t believe in magic? You were near death. How do you think Sehenitah healed you?”
“Herbs and warm furs I suppose,” May replayed. “Nothing more than natural science and the knowledge on how to use them passed on from mother to daughter. Nothing more mystical than that.”
“And the shape shifting?” Nashoba grinned. “I know you know about what I can do. That’s why you weren’t afraid when you woke up here. Admit it. You know the wolf was me and that I brought you here.”
“Yes, I knew the wolf was you.” May tossed her disheveled hair and raised her chin in what she hoped was a dignified and educated looking manner. “My brother-in-law’s kin are shifters. It wasn’t hard to recognize the signs. It’s a hereditary affliction, and ability passed on from parent to child. I read The Origin of Species by Darwin in college. The Clan abilities are nothing more than a form of evolution yet to be discovered.”
Confusion had settled on Nashoba’s face as soon as May started talking science, but after a few moments the look was replaced with a scowl. “That soldier. He’s of the Clan? You lie.”
“I never lie.” May took a deep breath, and forced her tone to remain calm. She was in no position to start a fight. “His Clan is from England, so he knows none of their kind here in America. That was, until we saw you.”
Nashoba stood up. “I had no right to call you a liar. That was inexcusable. I’m sorry. We never guessed the Mother gifted the Whites with Her blessing. This changes everything.”
“Not all of us, but some have the gift, yes.” May tried to stand, but Nashoba shook her head. “Where’re you going?”
“You rest. You are better, but we don’t want to undo all of Sehenitah’s work by you moving about too soon.” The smile on Nashoba’s face seemed forced, but there was no deception in her gaze, just sadness. “I have to talk to the Council. This can’t wait.”
“What can’t wait?”
Nashoba hesitated before she answered. “It’s forbidden by the Mother for the Clan to war amongst themselves. It’s been that way for centuries. Even when tribe war against one another, the Clanswomen within their hearths will only defend the village, never raid or attack. It’s our way. If there is Clan within the White’s soldier’s ranks, then my people risk breaking one of our most sacred laws.”
“Will they believe you? Your people I mean. Will they listen?” May thought about Joe and some of the Clan she’d known back in Ireland. They had always seemed set in their way, not as open to new ideas or ways of thinking. They were a strong people, but not what she’d call open-minded.
“I don’t know.” Nashoba looked away. “The Whites have been very hard on my people, May. We’ve watched people we love die, land that generations of our ancestors called home taken from us. I know you speak the truth, I can feel it in my heart and see it in your eyes. I just don’t know how I will make my people see it.”
Fear rose inside May. If they wouldn’t listen, if they thought Nashoba had turned on them, what would her people do? “Then stay. Sehenitah will be back right? You can explain everything to her. She seems a reasonable sort, easy to talk to.”
Nashoba knelt next to the sleeping platform and took both of May’s hands in her own. “Yes, they would listen to Sehenitah if we could convince her, you and I. That’s a wonderful idea. No one would dare question what she said was truth. She said she had some things to attend to but would be back near the high sun meal to check on you. We can talk to her then.”
“So, what do you want to talk about while we wait?”
“We’ve done too much talking already.” Nashoba chuckled. “I’d rather get back to the kissing.”
Heat bloomed on May’s cheeks. “What if Sehenitah comes back.”
“She won’t be back for hours.” Nashoba wrapped her arms around May’s shoulders and gently laid her back on the furs. “And if you can learn our language just with a little kissing, imagine what else you might learn.”
Nashoba ran a finger just beneath the stripe of white beads dotted with blue spirals and across May’s collarbone. May shivered at the subtle touch and raised her chin so their lips met. Nashoba pulled away the top of the wrap and May held her breath in anticipation as Nashoba’s palm cupped her breast.
The kissed deepened and Nashoba ran her thumb over May’s nipple. May drew in a breath of surprise at the jolt of sensation as the peak came to life in response. The room was warm from the fire, but it was nothing compared to the heat that rose over May’s body each place Nashoba touched her. May closed her eyes and Nashoba drew a path of kisses down her throat.
May swallowed hard. She didn’t know what to do with her hands so she left them on either side of her hair. Nashoba gripped May’s wrist, and held it there as her lips came to rest on May’s breast. The firm pressure on her arm and the tongue teasing at her nipple released sounds from deep inside May she’d never known hid within her.
“You smell so good.” Nashoba whispered, and the vibration of the words against her skin made May gasp. “Like warm bread and honey.”
May licked her lips. “I was thinking before how you reminded me of the wild places mothers tell their children they are forbidden to go.”
Nashoba drew the rest of the wrap away and her gaze moved over May’s body in a way that sparked fire in her own forbidden places. Nashoba ran her fingers across May’s body from shoulders to hips.
“See that’s the trouble then, your people keep their daughters away from the wild places, while mine revel in them.”
May’s body rose and arched to meet Nashoba’s touch. “I want to know the forbidden things. I want to see and feel what you do.”
“I…” Nashoba’s eyes widened and she sat up. “You’re not just playing a game of arousal. You mean that don’t you?”
May hadn’t expected the reaction her words received, but she nodded. “I’ve lived a controlled and rational life, everything neat and orderly. I like it that way. Or I did. Now, I want to know what it’s like to just let go and feel.”
May undid Nashoba’s wrap and watched in fascination as the dark leather slipped from her shoulder to the furs around them. Nashoba wasn’t slender, her muscles were cut and curved like that of a warrior. Scars littered the smooth brown landscape of her skin, some long and raised like from a blade, others pitted and deep.
“The life I live is not an easy one, but I can show you the beauty of the wild if you let me.”
May drew her fingers along a faded crescent shaped scar near Nashoba’s heart. Her palm brushed Nashoba’s breast and May grinned to see her nipple perk at the touch. “I already see the beauty of wild things.”
Nashoba wrapped her arms around May’s waist and pulled her in a rough hug. The heat of their bodies came together as skin touched skin. May fell into the kiss and felt herself swept up in the passion of it.
May locked her arms around Nashoba’s neck and the two tumbled onto the furs. Nashoba cupped the back of May’s head, her fingers digging deep into the mass of curls. She spread May’s legs open with a hand and knelt between them.
Tongues entangled in the need to taste, to feel, to explore, May gave into her own desires. She wanted to feel it all, to silence her mind so doubt had no power to ruin this moment. May’s pelvis arched toward Nashoba as her thumb brushed the moist skin. This was what she wanted. What she’d always wanted.
“You’re not afraid?” Nashoba whispered in May’s ear.
May closed her eyes and smiled. “I’m not afraid.”
Nashoba’s thumb ran the length of May’s soft folds and May jumped at the charge that shot through her. The fingers of both hands gripped the fur beneath her and she moaned long and low. Nashoba entered her slowly, her fingers massaging the length off the canal that begged for their touch.
“Oh, God.” May cried as Nashoba broke through the skin which marked her sheltered lovelessness. The pain throbbed for an instant and then melted away in a wave of pleasure. The top of Nashoba’s thumb drew across May’s clit and bits of fur tore of in May’s clenched fists.
Nashoba nibbled at May’s ear lobe. “I think in your case it would be Goddess. We women are where the wild things live.”
May’s moans increased in intensity and Nashoba’s fingers plunged harder and faster. Nashoba sucked and bit at May’s breast, the rough sensation only heightening May’s need for more. How could she have not known this need was inside her, how could she have hidden from her own wildness?
May shook uncontrolled beneath her lover and Nashoba opened May’s thighs wide. Her thumbs stretch the swollen folds that tremored beneath them and Nashoba bent her head down.
As the tip of Nashoba tongue encircled May’s clit, there was a rush of pleasure. May gasped and dug her fingers into Nashoba’s hair. May arched her back, and as tongue and fingers moved together in their erotic dance May felt the room melting away
May sobbed. This was the wild. This was the power. She could feel everything around her. It was frightening and she wanted more. She needed more.
Her fingered twisted deep in Nashoba’s hair, May brought their lips together. The kiss was hungry, and May could taste her own passion on the lips of her lover. They rolled until May was straddling Nashoba’s waist.
May broke away from the kiss, her grip still holding Nashoba’s head in place. She bent her head and took Nashoba’s breast into her mouth. The firm mound was warm and soft, her taught nipple rough against May’s tongue. The tangy taste of sweat mingled with their lovemaking drove May’s need on further.
As her hands slipped from the tangled black hair, May closed her eyes and felt her way down Nashoba’s body. Nashoba’s deep groans and the way her body met May’s touch fueled the fire in May’s belly. Did she dare let go of her control all the way, give in to the power that felt as if it waited on the edge of their passion?
Her fingers slid on Nashoba’s moistness, exploring the bumps and valleys that marked the most forbidden. May couldn’t help but feel humbled at the vulnerability of her lover, and the sacredness of what was shared between them. Her two fingers slid in easily, running across the bumps beneath them.
Nashoba gasped and a deep growl rumbled in her chest. “I want you now.” May wasn’t sure what she meant, but watched as Nashoba rolled over. Nashoba pulled them together. Her fingers rubbed back and forth over May’s clit before diving in. “I need you.”
They kissed and May moved her fingers in rhythm with Nashoba’s. Her body’s response was instantaneous as the crash of desire and sensation collided. Her head swam, and it took great effort to focus on the motion. May’s moans burst into a crescendo of screams that were matched by Nashoba’s deeper tones.
Control no longer mattered. Nothing was forbidden. As the two moved as one everything that had been unreachable, no may understood. For the moment they were together, in the moment of most perfect passion, she was one with the wild.
Chapter 3
The fire crackled with slowly dying embers and Nashoba slid from the bed. She covered May with the furs and turned her attention to adding fuel to the fire.
How long had it been since she had someone to look after? Too long. So why did guilt tear at her heart as she listened to the soft breathing behind her?
It was so much easier when she kept to herself, locking away her heart where no one could touch it. Now, Nashoba wasn’t sure where her path lay. Did it matter? Soon this woman would return to her own kind, and Nashoba would stay here with her people.
Nashoba closed her eyes. She should be glad May would be going home, but the thought became a weight in her chest. Love between them was impossible, she told herself. They were just too different.
“Nashoma!” Sehenitah voice came from just outside the lodge door. “Come quickly! There is trouble!”
Panic filled her. Nashoba threw on her wrap and moccasins, her thought a jumble of worries. What had happened? Has she failed her people, allowed herself to become detracted.
Nashoba grabbed her war club and burst through the flap out into the snow covered valley. The warriors of the tribe gathered in the square arguing animatedly. Nashoba couldn’t hear what was said, but whatever it was it didn’t sound good.
“Sehenitah, what is it?” Nashoba called out. “Has there been an attack?”
Several of the warriors stepped aside as Nashoba moved toward the square. In the center of the women she saw Sehenitah talking to Mytiria. Just behind the leaders were two clanswoman, one she recognized as Feleanas, Mytiria’s second, the other was Liemoro, the scoutmaster.
Between Feleanas and Liemoro struggled a familiar figure. The curly brown hair and deep-set blue eyes marked him as the soldier from the farm, May’s kin. Nashoba could see the cavalryman’s pants from under the heavy blue wool coat.
“Liemoro and her sister caught this soldier sneaking around the fields. Trying to poison our winter stores no doubt.” Mytiria shouted.
Nashoba could see the war leader’s eyes hungry for vengeance. She’d have to tread lightly or if wouldn’t just be the soldier’s life in danger.
“How are we to challenge him being here by law? He has no defender who can speak for him.” Sehenitah looked from Mytiria to Nashoba. “He didn’t attack anyone. He deserves the Council to hear his side before a judgment is passed.”
“He’s a soldier.” Mytiria snarled. “He deserves nothing but death.”
The soldier fought the grip of the women, but to no avail. His expression was stone, fearless, but Nashoba could see the panic in his eyes. “I’m looking for my sister. Can any of you understand English? I just need to find her. I don’t want trouble.”
Nashoba glanced back at her lodge and then turned to face the war leader. “I know why the soldier is here. I brought a White woman here when she was injured. He has come for his family, just as we would if one of our own went missing.”
“You brought one of them to our refuge? It was you that led the soldier here? Why?” Mytiria took a strep toward her, but Nashoba held her ground. “You hate them as much as we do. Why would you care if one died?”
“She is not the enemy.” Nashoba turned as she heard the rustle of leather behind her. May stood in the open doorway, her eyes wide. “Nor is her kin. His people hold the blood of the blessed in ancestry. He is of the brothers. It is forbidden for Clan to kill Clan.”
Mytiria laughed. It was a harsh, cruel sound. “This pathetic excuse for a man if of the blood? This is not the time for jests, sister.”
“But what if it is true? What if the Whites have been blessed by the Mother? Can we risk it?” Nashoba motioned May to stay silent with a finger to her lips. “I say he is of the blood, and that makes him kin. Who here will challenge my word?”
The Clanswomen looked at each other in confusion, but not a word was spoken between them. Only one woman picked up her war club to face Nashoba.
Mytiria gripped her club tight, her eyes locked with Noshoba’s “If you choose to take the side of this white soldier and his woman over your own people, then I will challenge your madness. The Nashoba I know would never do such a thing.”
“May.” The soldier said. “Are you alright?”
“She is well.” Nashoba answered him. “She fell in the river, but we looked after her.”
Sehenitah gasped. “How can you speak the tongue of the soldier?”
“I do not know, it just happened. I think I was meant to speak for them, to be a bridge between our people.” These words flowed from Nashoba’s lips and both her people and the Whites seemed to understand them. “A gift from the Mother.”
“More like a curse. She’s punishing you for turning your back on your own people.” Mytiria spat on the ground. “So tell me, sister, did you bed the woman alone, or have you given yourself to both of them as a pet?”
Nashoba grit her teeth. “If I beat you now, will you concede that what I say is true? That the face of the enemy may not be as clear as we once thought?”
“I agree.” Mytiria’s skin was already darkening and black luminescent feathers flowed mixed in her braids. During a challenge the rules forbade the combatants to use full battle forms, but partial changes were allowed. It often gave a fighter an edge without breaking the Clan on Clan law. “And if I win both you and your play things will die.”
The rest of the woman backed away as Nashoba and Mytiria circled, each looking for a weakness to exploit. This was a dangerous game. Nashoba knew the skill of their war leader in combat, but once a challenge was called there was no backing down.
It wasn’t just her life on the line now. If Nashoba didn’t succeed in proving the White’s Clan and that of the People were the same, the Clan could war against each other and anger the Mother. So much rode on this moment, that Nashoba found it a struggle to keep her focus on the fight.
“What would your wife say if she could see you with the pale woman?” Mytiria whispered and they circled face to face. “I can smell her stench on you even now, sister. It’s disgusting.”
“She would be proud that I am thinking of my people, and not blinded by my own hate.”
Mytiria lunged with her club, and Nashoba stepped aside. The carved thorn on the club’s tip grazed Nashoba’s shoulder, tearing through the leather wrap. The cut stung in the cold air, but it wasn’t deep.
Nashoba’s nails elongated and her muscles tightened as she too began to shift into a partial change. She didn’t want to injure Mytiria, but it would take all she had in speed and strength to hope to win this fight.
“What if he could help us? What if through him we could talk to the soldier’s leaders and make a pact that sticks this time?” Nashoba dodged another blow, and just missed Mytiria’s shoulder blade with her own club.
An elbow to the abdomen took Nashoba’s breath for a few moments. She dropped to the ground and rolled, catching Mytiria’s feet and sending her to the snow. Nashoba got up quickly and backed away.
She had to think, to find a way to out maneuver the more experienced warrior. Doubt seeped into Nashoba’s mind and the her club shook in her hand. Was she willing to die to defend this truth, to risk everything?
Mytiria sat up on her hands and knees. “If they wanted to make a pact with us they’d have given us the magic they have against the sickness. I’ve heard the tales, sister. They knew how to cure our people and they still left our children to die.”
With unexpected speed Mytiria dove at Nashoba’s knees and they both tumbled to the ground. Noshaba jerked her head to one side as Mytiria buried her club in the snow where Nashoba’s face had been. Images of her sons wasting away filled Nashoba’s thoughts, and it took a blow to the side of her face to bring her back to the battle.
“It’s for our children’s sake me must find peace with our White kin,” Nashoba whispered. “Only united can the Clan stand against those who would destroy us.”
“Don’t make me kill you,” Mytiria hissed in her ear. “They’re not worth it.”
The taste of copper filled Nashoba’s mouth. Her vision blurred in and out, and Mytiri’s weight crushed her into the snow. “I can’t hide from the truth. None of us can. The Mother has shown me the path I must travel, and I can’t turn away.”
It was over, Nashoba knew her death was the punishment for failure, and no one had ever beaten Mytiria in battle. Mytiria stared at her for what felt like a lifetime.
“You would die for this truth?” Mytiria said.
Nashoba simply nodded.
Mytiria stood and dropped her club to the snow. “I remove my claim on the life on this soldier and the White woman. I will listen to my sister’s council.”
Nashoba stood slowly and wiped the blood from her face with the sleeve of her wrap, stunned beyond words. Mytiria had her beaten. Nashoba should be dead. So why had the war leader forfeited the challenge?
The two warriors released the soldier and May ran to embrace him. “Oh, Joe. You’re okay. You scared me something awful.”
“I scared you?” Joe gave a nervous chuckle, one Nashoba might have expected from a man who realized how close he came to death.
Mytiria muttered something to her second and then walked from the circle. Nashoba ran to follow her. “Mytiria, please. Why did you do that? You had me beaten.”
Mytiria said nothing until they pasted the edge of the camp, and then she turned to face Nashoba. “Your body I could have destroyed, but in the moment I saw your spirit I knew against that I could never win. We’ve forgotten much you and I. In our anger and grief we’ve lived apart from our own people, determined to steep in our own hatred and vengeance. When I knew you would die for your truth, I realized I wasn’t willing to kill you for my own lie.”
“So what happens now?” Nashoba rubbed her sore shoulder gingerly.
“The Council will want to talk to the White farmer and the woman. Find out what they knew of the soldier’s plans and the danger. They will have to promise to keep the secrets of the People, to take the pact that will bind them to our fate.”
Nashoba thought May might agree to such a pact, but she was unsure about the soldier himself. Clan or not, she still wasn’t ready to trust him. “And if they both don’t agree?”
Mytiria sighed. “Than if we can’t kill the man to silence him because of the blood bond, we will have to leave the valley and find a new home.”
“Let’s hope they agree then.” Nashoba looked back toward the village. She saw May next to Joe, but May’s attention wasn’t on him. She was looking around frantically, as if she’d lost something. “Let’s get back to the others.” Mytiria nodded and the two warriors made their way back to the square.
May turned as Nashoba entered the circle of woman, and as their eyes met May smiled. “Everything’s going to be alright now, isn’t it.”
Nashoba looked around at the soldier and the women gathered. “There are still things to talk about, but yes, I think it will all work out.”
Mytiria and Sehenitah moved away from the circle to speak privately, and when the two returned Sehenitah was smiling. “Since you know the language of the White’s you will speak for us. There is much to talk about, but first we must know our secrets are safe.”
Nashoba nodded and turned her attention to the soldier and May. “Our people have lived in secret for a long time, it was necessary to protect us from our enemies. We must ask that you both keep those secrets. Nothing you hear or see here must leave this place. Do you understand?”
“What is this about?” Joe’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Are we prisoners or not?”
May shushed him. “Yes, Nashoba. Of course we will keep your secrets. That’s what friends do.”
Nashoba relayed their words to her pack before continuing. “Will you take a sacred pacts to seal this promise you make?”
“What pact?” Fear crept back into Joe’s eyes.
“This pact will link your fate to that of the people. Our hardship will be your hardship, and our victories your victories. It means if my People break the pact we shall suffer for it, as will you both if you betray us.” Nashoba turned her attention to May. If either of them were going to see the sense of this it would be her. “Our people are already linked in many ways, but the only way my pack will trust you both if for you both to be bound to us. There’s no other way. I know magic is not something you are comfortable with, but please, May. Trust me.”
May reached a hand to touch Nashoba’s cheek. “I do trust you.”
Joe looked between May and Nashoba. “It is true isn’t it? What May said about your Clan and ours being the same. I saw you and that woman change. You are all Clan?”
Nashoba nodded. “We are like you. We are Clan.”
Joe stared at his palm and rubbed a long scar in the very center of it with his thumb. He stood there silent for a long time, and when he finally spoke, it was only loud enough for Nashoba and May to hear. “Then we will take your pact. You can help us speak to your Clan, and I will do my best to make people between you and the other soldiers. I make no promises, but perhaps the rank I’ve earned can be used to help both our people. At least it may make my superiors more likely to listen.”
As Nashoba relayed his words to the rest of the pack, Sehenitah nodded, her eyes twinkling with pleasure. There was a chance for them, even if it was a risky one.
“Our guests may stay in Nashoba’s lodge until the Council is ready to speak with them.” Sehenitah Motioned with a hand toward the direction of Nashoba’s home. “A meal will be prepared and our guests will have safe passage back to their farm when the talks are completed.”
This time it was May who translated the leader’s words to her brother-in-law. “Go ahead to the ledge, Joe. I’ll be fine here. I want to talk with Nashoba for awhile. I’ll fill you in later.”
Joe hesitated, but after a nodded to Nashoba, he went toward the lodge. Once he was out of earshot May laughed. “Okay, maybe I won’t tell him everything.”
“Some secrets are ours alone.” Nashoba kissed may gently.
May responded to the kiss without any trepidation and warmth washed over Nashoba casting away the chill of the winter air. No matter what happened, she wasn’t going to hide away from life anymore. Now, she had someone to share her hearth and her love with. She’d not let anything take that away from her again.
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