Night Wolf Ch. 05byLady_Blackhawk©
Disclaimer: I have tried to make sure my historical information is correct and I’d like to think I haven’t offended any Native Americans peoples with the telling of this tale. I am 1/8th Cherokee and am proud of that heritage. I’m not trying to show any Native Americans in a bad light… that is not my intention.
Author’s Note: The English-Cheyenne word translations come from the Cheyenne Language Web Site, one that I’ve found extremely helpful for the telling of this tale. Also credit goes out to the Lakota Dictionary page on the language [dot] nativeweb [dot] org website.
Nénáasêstse: Come here
He'kotoo'êstse: Be quiet
Hámêstoo'e: Sit down (plural; spoke to more than one person)
Tâhéovešêstse: Go to sleep (or Get some sleep)
Né'áahtovêste: Listen to me!
Mahpetana'ôtse: Falling Water
Néá’eše: Thank you
Taa'evâho'nehe: Night Wolf
Mo'kôhtavo'ha: Black Horse
Va’ôhtama, néséne: Welcome, my friend
Tósa'e nétao'sêtsêhe'ôhtséme: Where are you going?
Hotohkenestoohe: Howling Star
Hau, kola: Hello, friend (in Lakota)
Ha Iyotaka: Yes, sit down. (in Lakota)
Tate Sapa: Black Wind (in Lakota)
Wasicu: white man or white person (in Lakota)
Heya: No (in Lakota)
Nóxa’e: Wait here
Né'éstséhnêstse: Come in!
Épéva'e: Good (It’s good)
Ma'heo'o: The Great Spirit or God
The waning sun sank lower in the sky as Night Wolf reined the horses in a sheltered valley. He bounded down from the back of the horse, speaking in quiet tones to Black Horse who followed suit. Grabbing his weapons, he crept quietly through the trees with Black Horse close behind.
Through the fronds of a leafy bush, he spied a small group of three warriors gathered around a campfire. As Black Horse joined him, crouching by his side, he noticed the young female huddled upon an animal skin, shivering from the cold. Her dirty blonde hair was disheveled mightily, her face almost blackened with bruises and mud. “Ho'óhomo'e,” Black Horse whispered.
“Héehe’e,” Night Wolf agreed, “Shall we speak to our Lakota brothers?”
Black Horse nodded and hailed the camp. The three warriors stood, reaching for their weapons, and kept a sharp eye on the two men entering their small camp.
“Hau, kola.” Night Wolf spoke, “I am Taa'evâho'nehe of the Tsitsistas.”
“Hau, Taa'evâho'nehe. Join us. Our Cheyenne brothers are always welcome at our campfire.”
“May we may camp with you for the night? There is safety in numbers.” Night Wolf replied, using a combination of sign language and intertribal words.
“Ha, Iyotaka,” the leader of the group spoke up, motioning for Black Horse to come forward. “My name is Tate Sapa. This is Gray Eagle and Two Moons. Join us.”
“Hahóo,” Night Wolf nodded, using the intertribal word for thank you. He motioned to Black Horse using sign language to return with the horses and bring them to the campsite. His friend inclined his head and went on his way, returning several minutes later with Ione, Tessa and the horses in tow.
Night Wolf graciously shared a haunch of deer meet with the Lakota warriors, all the while noticing Tate Sapa’s blatant appreciation of Ione. He hoped to dissuade the Lakota as he glanced over at the woman still curled up on the buffalo robe. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but he wasn’t sure what. He hadn’t encountered many white women in his span of twenty-five summers. Still he kept Ione close, even going as far as pulling her into his lap after the men had eaten to show she belonged to him.
While the men conversed, Ione and Tessa ate their share of the venison haunch, talking in low tones amongst themselves. Occasionally they sneaked glances at the female who continued to shiver. Unaware that feeding her wasn’t allowed; Ione pulled off a few chunks of the venison, placed it upon a leaf and handed it to the girl. Tate Sapa reacted immediately, knocking the food from Ione’s hand before grabbing a bayonet he’d stolen from a soldier and holding it to her throat.
Night Wolf sprang into action, throwing Ione to the ground and placing himself between her and tip of the bayonet. “No one touches my woman without my permission,” the Cheyenne warrior growled in his throat, his voice sounding much like his name.
“If I wanted my slave fed, I’d have ordered your woman to feed her.” Tate Sapa retorted, glaring at Night Wolf fiercely.
“Falling Water is new to my people and does not know our ways yet. What harm is to give some food to your captive? How is she to remain strong enough to endure a hard day of woman’s work if she is weak from hunger?” Night Wolf reasoned, his eyes flicking over the girl then met Tate Sapa’s.
Tate Sapa pointed at Ione, then to the food and back to the girl. “You have much wisdom, my Cheyenne brother, but she is still mine.”
“And I have not challenged your claim to her, but tell me one thing, friend. How is it you came to be in possession of her?”
“I found her wandering the prairie seven suns ago. She was lost and disoriented. I believe she is the survivor of an attack on a wasicu wagon train.” Tate Sapa replied as he packed his pipe full of tobacco and lit it.
“Would you trade her?” Night Wolf nonchalantly shrugged.
“Heya, I shall keep her. She pleases me.” The Lakota warrior replied and offered Night Wolf a smoke off his pipe.
For a long while the men passed the pipe around and talked amongst themselves for the remainder of the evening. It left Ione and Tessa the chance to talk softly between them, but before they knew it, Night Wolf tenderly touched Ione’s leg, motioning for her to get their sleeping blankets from the pack on the travois. She dutifully obliged him, watching while he brushed the horses down and hobbled them for the night. Returning to the fire, he brought another blanket and a thick buffalo robe then directed Ione to a secluded place just out of view of the camp.
Spreading the furs and blankets on the ground, he coaxed her down to them, his hands roaming her slender form. He snuggled into her, wrapping her in his warm embrace. Ione gazed up into his dark eyes, now so filled with naked desire that she trembled in response. His mouth descended to skim along her jaw to her ear where he whispered soft words of love. His teeth gently nipped the lobe of her ear before moving down the line of her neck to her collarbone hidden by the buckskin shirt. Coaxing her with sweet words she didn’t understand, Ione helped him remove her shirt, baring her breasts to the chill of her night. Warm, calloused hands cupped the ivory orbs tenderly, treating them like priceless treasures, feeling them swell to his touch, his long fingers seeking the tender peaks of her nipples, teasing them to full aching hardness.
Ione gasped, sweet shivers raced through her body, igniting every one of her nerve endings into sensitive pleasure receptacles. She felt her fear melt away, and knew it was replaced by a growing need she could not control and found she had no wish to. Her body arched into his with a will of its own, pleading without words for his touch. His mouth traveled from her throat, along her shoulder, bestowing teasing little licks, searching out each sensitive spot along the way to her breasts.
As his questing lips captured her nipple, a sigh shuddered from her throat. Unable to stay still while he explored her, Ione brought her hands up and slipped them inside the vest he wore, removing the breastplate and setting it aside. She laid her hands upon his sides shyly, skimming around to feel the smoothness of his back. As her fingers mapped the contours, feeling power and strength in his body, her lips sought the angular planes of his face. She skimmed them across his forehead, planting tiny little kisses here and there, sweeping down his cheeks to nuzzle against his ear.
Night Wolf let a low moan slip from his lips as his hands traveled the curves of her body, down across the flat of her stomach, the bend of her hip, trailing his fingers to the inside of her thighs until they found their goal. He lingered there, teasing and tantalizing until Ione was arching into his touch, shamelessly letting her cries slip from her lips as her fingernails raked the length of his back.
Impatiently he swept the rest of their clothes away and settled his body completely over hers, parting her thighs with his knee. Ione quivered at the heat of his passion throbbing against her. “You are mine,” he whispered, “You will always be mine.”
There was a brief tinge of pain as he entered her, making her his own. He silenced her startled cry pressing his mouth to hers, something he’d often witnessed his friend, Sun Bear, indulge in with his wife, Sky Eyes. It wasn’t the Cheyenne way to press their mouths together. Cheyenne lovers licked each other’s body, rubbing cheeks and other body parts together, but this kiss was a wondrous new experience.
Ione flushed bright red. Night Wolf’s mouth devoured hers while his hands excited her, introducing her to the world of sensuous pleasure. She surrendered herself to him completely, giving to him everything she had to give. His thrusts became faster and deeper, opening her untried tunnel to his marauding manhood. She whimpered and panted hotly until her passion flared into an all-consuming desire. She grew bolder, meeting the thrust of his hips with her own. The tender spark ignited, her body bursting into flames, consumed and fed by his. Quickly his needs became her own. Together they climbed from one plateau of passion to another, even higher, until at long last the heavens collided and erupted in a flurry of light and sound. Spurred on by the climactic cataclysms of bliss, they soared on the wings of ecstasy to the stars. Ripples of rapture shuddered through them as they clung together, savoring the delight of their mutual release.
Night Wolf held her close to him afterwards, stroking her and murmuring to her words she couldn’t understand. But there was one thing she knew without a shadow of a doubt. She belonged to him, heart and soul, and there would be no turning back.
Ione flushed red as her hair the next morning when Night Wolf led her back to the tiny camp in the sheltered valley. She could barely make eye contact with anyone, not even Tessa, and especially not Night Wolf. He had ravished her thoroughly the night before, coaxing from her impassioned cries of incredible bliss. In her innocence, she never knew it was possible for two people to do such things or experience such pleasure.
As she sat down by the fire, she noticed the knowing smirks on the faces of the Lakota warriors as well as Tessa and Black Horse. The captive of Tate Sapa lolled restlessly on her back upon a buffalo robe and sang a childhood song quietly to herself. She didn’t seem to care that others were around her or might possibly be disturbed by her out of tune voice. Tate Sapa rolled his eyes and nudged her none to gently, eliciting a squawk of protest from her, before he ground out something harsh sounding. She halted her singing and wandered towards a copse of dense trees, disappearing within them.
Ione watched as Tate Sapa sighed and rubbed his face before following her. When they did not reappear for a while, Ione assumed the warrior hadn’t caught her yet, or if he had must be administering some sort of discipline. Or pleasure, she flushed pink to her top of her ears, once again remembering the night before.
Night Wolf watched her closely, noticing the pretty blush staining her cheeks and tinting her ears. Tessa took the moment to lean over and whispered, “Black Horse said there’s a stream nearby where we’ll be able to wash up. Are you coming with me?”
The thought of a bath filled her with even more joy. It made her momentarily forget her embarrassment over the fact that everyone knew what she and Night Wolf had done. “I’d love a bath!” She gleamed as she turned to her handsome Cheyenne captor to make sure it was okay. “Please?”
He nodded in consent, his eyes firmly fixed on her shapely backside as she scrambled off into the trees with her good friend. Tessa led Ione to the babbling brook, eager to get her friend alone for a few minutes so they could talk.
“How pretty,” Ione sighed at the sight of the stream with its plunging little waterfalls. She headed toward a deeper part of the stream, and sat down on the bank. She removed her buckskin garb and waded into the water, letting out a small squeak as the chilly water surrounded her. It took a moment to acclimate to it, but once the initial shock passed, she ducked beneath, scrubbing her skin and hair with sand until she felt clean again.
Climbing out, she slipped the buckskin over her wet body and sat down on the bank to allow her hair to dry. Tessa joined her, fingers combing the tangles out of her wet blonde locks. Her friend smiled at her warmly before posing the question she’d been dying to ask. “I know I shouldn’t be asking this, but was it everything you’d ever dreamed it would be?”
Ione blushed profusely, “Tessa!” She squeaked.
Her friend flashed a wicked grin. “I know. I know. I must be wanton to ask such a thing, but you can tell me. I won’t think badly of you. Trust me, Ione. I’m in the same boat as you are. And I’d say by your unrestrained cries, that he made it very pleasurable for you.”
Ione blushed again. “I … Tessa, I never thought the marriage bed would be so… it’s sinful. Ma never had much of a chance to explain a woman’s duty, but the way he made me feel was unexpected. Am I wanton for liking it?”
“Mercy, no, it’s a normal natural emotion. So I assume he was gentle with you?” Tessa replied, a sly smile gracing her lips.
“Quite so, it barely hurt. Ma always said that the first time on the marriage bed would hurt, but it was a pain to be endured in order to do a woman’s duty and to bear children. But Tessa, I think she was wrong. There was nothing to be scared about, nothing to endure. It felt quite good the way he touched me. Too good, in fact, surely I’ll burn in hell for liking the wickedness.”
A giggle slipped from Tessa’s lips. “You’re not going to burn in the fires of damnation for liking what is a normal human emotion. Desire and passion aren’t sins. Be thankful he took the time to please you. Many women, including your Ma, may have never experienced it. Believe me; such goodness isn’t just for the wanton.”
Ione gave her an unsure look. The thoughts swirled around in her mind. “But Tessa, he’s not even my husband. That’s wrong. No priest has said words over us. If we ever make it back to our own people, I’ll be labeled as a loose woman and therefore no decent man will want me.”
“By sharing a meal and lying with him on his blankets, he considers you his wife. He may have the tribal holy man say words over you to bless the union because he is the chief’s son, but in his heart, you belong to him and that goes far beyond being a captive. You’re his wife. He’s your husband. Furthermore, I don’t believe he’d let anyone take you from him. Not while breath still lingers in his body.”
“How do you know this?” Ione asked with a puzzled expression on her face.
Tessa cracked a wide smile. “Black Horse has told me much. He willingly answers my questions because it gets him what he wants. I have learned much from him. He has his own lodge in the village. Once we arrive, I will be the mistress of his lodge. He hopes I will fill it with the happiness he’s always sought but never had. He also promised to teach me his language. Night Wolf will do the same for you as well. You will see, my friend. We have a chance at true happiness. We just have to bold enough to capture it.”
Ione pondered her friend’s words long and carefully. She knew Tessa was right and valiantly took the first steps in that direction.
The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as the tops of the conical shaped dwellings came into view sprawled out across the prairie. A winding river flowed beside the large camp. Riding through a tremendous herd of horses, he released the three taken from the Crow and led the pack horse which dragged the travois full of mostly cured hides and dried meat for his people through the village. He bade Black Horse a good evening before reaching the largest most ornately decorated hide lodge. He dismounted quickly and helped Ione down.
“Nóxa’e,” he ordered, beckoning her to sit upon the ground in front of his father’s tipi, and rattled the bones, announcing his desire to enter.
“Né'éstséhnêstse!” A man’s voice replied, ushering Night Wolf in. The appetizing aroma of roasting meat wafted through the flap of the lodge out into the late afternoon air. Ione breathed it in, hearing her stomach rumble loudly. She tugged at Night Wolf’s leggings before he entered the lodge and rubbed her belly. He nodded in response, and continued on his way, shutting the flap behind him. Ione huffed in exasperation. What was wrong with the man?!?!? Didn’t he understand that she was hungry?
She watched speculatively as a few woman and children gathered near her, poking her with sharpened sticks and throwing clods of dirt and dog feces at her. She yelped in pain as one particularly sharp stick poked her ribs. “Stop it!” she cried out and curled in a tight ball. The lodge flap flew open and Night Wolf stepped out. His dark eyes glared at the women, shooing them away with a barking command. Kneeling beside Ione, he touched her face. She squawked in protest, her arms flying up in protection. Stilling her flailing arms, Night Wolf murmured soothing words to her before picking her up and carrying her to his own hide lodge that sat nearby his father’s. Entering it, he set her down on a pallet of furs, and once again telling her to wait there.
Returning to his father’s lodge, he joined his father at the fire. “I am happy you have returned safely, my son. How was your hunt?”
“Épéva'e.” Night Wolf relayed with a smiled. His father, Chief Medicine Bull, followed him outside, taking stock of the heavily loaded travois. “Our people will have much meat and hides for the coming months. A larger hunt will still take place when the buffalo arrive. I look forward to it and the Sun Dance celebration with our Arapaho allies.”
The cagey old chief grinned toothlessly at his son. “But you have brought back more than just hides and meat, my son. Where did you find the white woman?”
“I saved her from the Crow who had killed her family and burned their wagons,” Night Wolf replied as he gazed toward his tipi.
Medicine Bull shook his head. “You would have done well to leave her at the mercy of our enemies. She will bring trouble with her. Our band is small and her being here will bring the wrath of the pony soldiers who number like grass on the prairie. I have no wish for our braves to die needlessly. You should release her.”
“I cannot, Ného'e. I have taken her as my wife. You see she is my vision woman.” Night Wolf admonished. “I first looked upon her as my sacred vision said I would. I saw her as she bathed in a waterfall.”
The old chief’s face turned into a stony mask as he admonished his second son. “You must think wisely before keep her with you. You are Cheyenne. She is white. You are the son of a long line of chiefs. We have never before mixed our blood with that of the white eyes. You would do well to take a Cheyenne wife and be rid of this white woman. She will bring you nothing but heartache and she will bring hardship to your people.”
“I cannot do that, Father. Like my spirit animal, I seek only one mate for life. My vision led me to her and I will have her with or without your acceptance.” Night Wolf replied, standing firm in his convictions.