We Walk Between The Worlds Part I

[paulacas]

Title: We Walk Between The Worlds Part I
Author: YanzaDracan
Artist: Tiggeratl1
Fandom: KANE RPS Historical AU
Rating: R
Warning: Implied non-con, torture and adult situations
Word Count: 7,388/44,486
Summary: When highway men leave a Donna Ackles pregnant and widowed, she stumbles onto a band of Cherokee. Adopted into the tribe and married to one of their healers, she begins a new life. Life is good for Jensen 'Crow Fox' Ackles and his family until the passing of the Indian Removal Act and the Trail Where We Cried.

Title: We Walk Between The Worlds

Author: YanzaDracan

Artist: Tiggeratl1

Fandom: KANE RPS Historical AU

Rating: R

Warning: Implied non-con, torture and adult situations

Word Count: 7,298/44,486

Summary: When highway men leave a Donna Ackles pregnant and widowed, she stumbles onto a band of Cherokee. Adopted into the tribe and married to one of their healers, she begins a new life. Life is good for Jensen 'Crow Fox' Ackles and his family until the passing of the Indian Removal Act and the Trail Where We Cried.

Art: link

Fic: link

Donna Shaffer stood in front of her father's desk, eyes wide with disbelief. Since her mother's death, first her grandmother, then Donna ran her father's household and acted as his hostess, but now the old man was implying that she would be required to provide more than just the usual genteel Southern hospitality to several of the business men her father invited home.

"But Alan…" She started but was cut off.

"Everyone knows the man's light in his Hessians, and courts you to keep up appearances. Even if he does marry you, he'll never know you're no longer a maid. This business deal is very important, Girl, so you'll do as you're told."

Shocked to her core, she backed down from her father's anger.

"Of course, Father."

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Terrorized to the point of numbness, Donna lay perfectly still hoping the drunken man lying next to her had truly passed into his cups.

Though her body was virginal, she was not naïve. Her governess and lady's maid had both educated her on the ways of men and women just as her best friend, Alan, had educated her in the ways of men with men. The pain and fear she had experienced in the past two hours in no way resembled anything she had been taught.

That the actions of the male guests had been at the behest of her own father to further his fortune added mental torment to the physical abuse suffered at hands of men considered the epitome of southern honor and gentility froze her heart in her chest, as her mind coldly wondered how much her virginity had been worth.

Gathering her emotions-the betrayal, terror, shock and locking those gibbering pieces of her psyche into a iron box inside her mind, Donna rolled from the bed and gathering her torn and bloody dress around her body left the guest room where she'd been dragged as she'd walked down the hall intent on retiring to her room.

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Not by word or deed did Donna give indication that anything untoward had happened under her father's roof. She knew her father would extract a heavy price from her if his actions became known. If the servants thought her aloof, they put it down to the stress of playing hostess to so many of Atlanta's elite.

When the door closed behind the last guest, her father took himself off to his club. He would no doubt be gloating over the substantial business relationships he'd cemented during the first of many house parties held when the plantation owners moved back to their city homes for the winter season.

The house quiet, Donna began her search. Directing the staff to a thorough airing and cleaning of the house now that their guests had departed gave her the opportunity to search all the places her father secreted money. She had developed a morbid curiosity over the price of her virtue.

Airing the library of the stench of cigars while working on her household accounts, Donna found her answer. Seeing her father's strong box under her ledgers, Donna looked up to assure herself the servants were working upstairs. No one would disturb her until Letty came with a lunch tray. She check clock on the fireplace mantle. Plenty of time.

Her hairpin made short work of the lock. Hiding the documents in her ledger Donna began to read. She had to stop several times to quash her gibbering emotions back in their box, but by the time she read the three contracts and counted the cash her rage burned so hot she feared she herself would combust.

Putting everything back in the strongbox, she poured herself three fingers of whiskey before wandering outside the library doors. She watched the carriage horses peacefully swishing flies as they dozed in the morning sun. The fire of the whiskey slowly banked the fire of her rage.

By the time the glass was empty, and she could hear Letty calling her name, Donna had a plan.

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Her plan was coming to fruition when she discovered she was pregnant. Her first thought was to get rid of it. She knew which herbs would flush the fetus from her body. That the thing growing in her body had been planted in the most heinous manner possible had her sitting at her dressing table staring into the herbal mixture that would solve part of her problems.

As she stared into the liquid, the face of a beautiful green eyed angel appeared. She set the glass down with a thump. Her grandmother had been a midwife and a root worker, the whispers around town said she had the 'sight'. As Donna continued to stare at the glass she wondered if she too might have a little of the talent or if it was simply her conscious pricking her for wanting to harm the unborn child.

With time no longer on her side, she pushed up her schedule. Not wanting to travel in the winter months, she'd planned to make her escape in the spring, but now she wanted to be out of the house and Atlanta before anyone realized she was pregnant.

Money and jewelry sown into the hem of her cloaks and dresses, Donna met her best friend and soon to be husband outside the city limits. First chance they got after crossing the Fulton County line they were duly married. Going to the nearest coach station, they headed north to Chattanooga.

They only stayed in one place a week or two before moving on. Alan changed his last name from Eccles to Ackles to throw off anyone who might be searching for them.

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The War of 1812 has seen the development of many roads through the wilderness to facilitate the movement of soldiers and supplies. Since the war's end many of the roads were being put to use by stage coaches transferring mail and people from town to town. It was by this lowly form of transportation that Donna and Alan Ackles chose to travel.

Donna had only begun to show signs of her pregnancy when they decided to travel from Nashville to New Orleans. Thanksgiving had just passed when they decided New Orleans would be a good place to raise a child with pursuits suited to both their needs.

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Hands crossed over her expanding waistline, Donna let the rocking motion of the coach lull her troubled mind. She dozed lightly leaning against Alan's side. If not for the weight gain and some lower back pain she would have never have believed she carried a child in her womb. It was as though the little one was aware of the trauma of his conception and was trying not to give his mother any trouble.

Donna was thrown out her nap when the coach lurched violently. The passengers were thrown against the sides of the coach as the driver fought to bring the horses to a stop.

Everyone stumbled down from the coach, the men joining the driver as the shotgun rider kept watch while they examined the damage.

The axle wasn't broken all the way through, but it would have to be repaired before they could continue. After nearly an hour and a half they had fashioned repairs that would hold until they got to the next stage stop where they would not only change horses, but also change coaches.

They were just about to climb back in the coach when the men came out of the trees. The shotgun rider and the others who were armed did their best to defend against the highway men, but when the smoke cleared, the men lay dead or wounded allowing the thieves to rummage through their pockets, luggage, and unhook the horses.

The other two women clung to Donna as shock kept them quiet. When the men had searched everything they turned their attention to the women. Seeing they were plainly dressed in serviceable clothing and not in the impractical fashions of high society they mounted their horses, the leader clouting one of the younger men across the back of the head when he complained about leaving them.

When they could no long hear the sound of horses, the women began to check the men and gather their belongings. Donna wanted to cry for Alan, but she had nothing left to give him. She sorted through their luggage, got everything down to two manageable valises, thanked her lucky stars they hadn't checked the lining of her cloak or her corsets.

"Where are you going?" One of the women asked.

"It's midday. I'm heading back to the last town. We aren't that far away."

"But shouldn't we stay here. They'll send someone when we don't show up at the next stop."

"You can if you want. I refuse to sit and wait to see if that little beady-eyed man comes back looking for more than money."

She settled her bags and continued to walk.

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Dark came early to the tree lined road. She was exhausted and foot sore, and as the sky darkened she had to fight her rising fear. Several times she had moved off the road when she heard the sounds of horses, not wanting to take the risk it was the same men who had robbed the stage and killed Alan. Finally she could go no further. After stumbling several times over stones in the road, fear of falling and injuring her unborn child had Donna looking around for somewhere she could huddle down while she hoped the night did not become too bitterly cold.

Moving into the trees, Donna noticed the flickering of firelight. Terrified that she was about to make her situation worse, but realizing she needed help, she moved closer.

The closer she got the more the light beckoned her weary brain. She was almost to the edge of the light when her brain finally registered what her eyes were seeing.

Indians. Oh my God! Indians!

Then she noticed the women and children. She stood in the shadows fighting between her fear and her need. The fluttering of movement as the baby quickened made her decision. She would never make it back to town if she didn't have help, so once again Donna gathered her fear and shoved it into the iron box with the night of her rape and stepped into the light of the campfire.

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Donna, Bends Like The Willow, Ackles smiled serenely as she watched her son, Jensen Crow Fox Ackles, take the time from his lessons with his father to show his little brother the proper way to spear fish from the creek.

The night she'd stumbled into camp after Alan had been killed, she'd found not only a refuge for the night, but a new home as well. She had been adopted into the Long Hair clan of a nearby Tsalagi village, and the spring her son turned one year old, she married a prominent member of the Paint clan, Red Clay Bear. By the time Crow Fox was eight years old, Bends Like The Willow had borne Red Clay Bear a son and a daughter.

On the eve of the his 14^{th summer, Red Clay Bear took Crow Fox into the woods, sat the boy on a stump, blindfolded him and bade him sit until he felt the sunrise touch his face.}

Nervous, Crow Fox did as he was told. The sounds of the forest soon filled his ears. Unable to see, his mind conjured all forms of danger. Muscles quivering, his mind fought his body's desire to run from the unseen enemies. His stubborn will finally prevailed as he quieted his mind and breathing.

Remembering some of his father's stories about the sacredness and healing properties of his breath, Crow Fox allowed his mind to sink into the rhythm of his breathing.

Images soon assaulted the peace he'd found. His family and friends thin, sick, and dying in a strange land surrounded by white strangers dressed in blue. He saw himself dressed as both a man and woman. Standing in the background dressed in buckskins was a man with long yellow hair tears raining from blue eyes as he reached toward Crow Fox and a handsome brave with long hair adorned with eagle feathers and eyes the color of the sky.

As the stranger's pale hand was about to touch his arm, the sun warmed Crow Fox's face. He touched his face feeling tears from under his blindfold. Pulling the cloth from his eyes, the first thing he saw was Red Clay Bear.

"Father." He said simply, a hitch in his voice.

Wrapping a large hand around his son's neck, he pulled the boy, now an adult, against his side while he tucked his bear skin robe around the chilled body.

"What have seen, my son?" The healer asked.

"So much misery and death." Crow Fox whispered. "We are in a place I have never seen during Cold Moon. We are starving, sick and dying." His brow creased as he paused, reluctant to tell his father about the yellow and dark haired strangers.

He knew how the tribe dealt with those who would love their own gender. They were shunned-sent to live at the outer edges of the village-forced to survive without the support of family and friends. If he were to tell his father his heart was two-spirit, he too would be forced from the tribe.

He knew his mother's story, knew he was the child of heinous actions. Though he was conceived during the most foul of acts, she always loved him, and when he was small she had called him her green-eyed angel. He would not cause her a moment's heartache by forcing a man who gave her love and helped heal the scars of the past to banish him from the tribe.

"Come. We will put your mother's fears to rest and after a hot meal we will go to the elders with your new status as an adult and relay what the spirits have given us." Red Clay Bear kept his arm around Crow Fox as they headed back to the village.

The same night the Long Hair arbor was awakened by the distressed cries of Crow Fox as he was caught in the claws of a powerful nightmare. His parents tried repeatedly to wake the boy to no avail. He finally awakened with a shout and flung himself into his mother's arms. When the tears and shaking stop, and he calmed himself, he refused to speak about his nightmare, wanting to talk with the Elders first.

After the morning meal, everyone was called to the Town House were they learned of Crow Fox's vision. While the elders discuss the vision and what it could mean; Crow Fox let his mind drift to the men in his vision. He knows they are not from any of the settlements or villages in the area. He can only imagine that they have something to with the awful things he saw in his dreams.

The spirits and the Ancestors had always walked closely with Crow Fox. It is the reason he was learning the lessons of the Paint clan. He had heard his father express his wish for Crow Fox to find a wife from the Blue clan that he may also learn the children's medicine, but Crow Fox knows there will be no wife in his future. After last night he is sure there is very little future left for any of them here.

Quashing the hurt in his heart, he went in search of his grandfather.

Crow Fox?" The elder medicine man approached the boy. Moss green eyes looked up. "What troubles you?"

"I wished to speak with father about some other things from my vision, but the Council has become upset over the little I have told them."

"Come and sit with this old man and tell me your dreams, grandson."

A hand on his back steered Crow Fox towards the men his grandfather sat with each morning after their meal. Bends Like The Willow started moving toward her son, but a brief shake of his head had the woman continued toward the river. When they settled, Hawk White Horse seated Crow Fox in front of the men, and prompted the young man to talk.

"I saw many things…a long walk with few supplies. There were blue men talking about blankets of sickness." He bowed his head, shielding his expression. "We tried to help them, but there were no medicines. We go in the time of the Harvest Moon. We walk until the Windy Moon." His expression was full of fear when he looked up. "We must leave here or they will take everything…the horses…the land…our lives." He pulled his mother's wedding ring that belonged to her white husband from under his shirt. "They want this." The morning sun glinted off the gold ring.

The men nodded understanding the lust that white men had for the yellow metal. Hawk White Horse rubbed Crow Fox's back soothingly.

"Was there anything else, my grandson?"

The golden charms woven in his hair sang as he nodded. "There is much to learn."

"You walk a hard path."

Crow Fox nodded again. "More than you know."

"I will speak with your parents."

He slipped off from his grandfather's friends and headed toward the river. He wanted to think about the rest of his dream. He hoped his spirit guides would give him a clue about why they showed him with a strange brave and a white man with long yellow hair in mountains that touched the sky. Looking for comfort, he left the river for the tribes' herd of horses. The antics of the foals always lightened his heart.

It did not take long for the clan leaders and chiefs to gather back at the Town House. Much was discussed about the vision and what it meant. It was decided several warriors whose coloring from their fathers allowed them to pass for white would travel as fast as their horses could safely be pushed to Nashville to collect what news was available in the large town.

Bends like the Willow and Red Clay Bear watched worried as their son tried his best to learn as fast as he could the things Spirit pushed him to learn. They felt a desperation coming from Crow Fox as though he felt there was not enough time for him to learn everything he needed.

He would follow his mother and grandmother as they went through their day, often disappearing to reappear with Red Clay Bear as he continued to teach Crow Fox the ways of the medicine people. In the evenings he would learn from his uncles and cousins in Wolf clan how to take care of weapons, equipment, and tack for their horses.

Three weeks from the time they left, the warriors returned from Nashville with newspapers and startling news.

The newspapers talked about the Indian Removal Act aimed at removing the Cherokee, Choctaw, Chickasaw, Creek, and Seminole from their traditional lands so that whites could settle the land and mine the gold that had been discovered in Georgia. The Cherokee National Council was negotiating with the United States government for all the Tsalagi to move to the Indian Territories west of the Mississippi River.

Shock and disbelief ran through the elders and the tribe. They planned a corn dance and sent runners to the surrounding villages with invitations. There was much to prepare and many decisions needed to be made. These events seemed to be what Crow Fox had seen.

Many nights he would wake in a cold sweat with dreams of deprivation and degradation. Other nights he would wake confused by the changes in his body and the urges left by dreams of blue eyes as different as they were the same.

Hearing the latest round of his son's dreams, Red Clay Bear went in search of Hawk White Horse. He needed to speak with him about Crow Fox's affinity with the spirits.

Crow Fox helped where he could in preparation for the corn dance. He stood in service to the elders, he listened to their words. Many are disbelieving of what the newspapers and the rumors are saying. They will stay on their lands until they are forced to leave. They all agree that they should send a delegation to speak to the National Council.

Hawk White Horse, Red Clay Bear, Grey Deer, and Swift Raven are chosen from the three tribes that attend the dance to make the trip to New Echota. They would leave their homes in time to arrive at New Echota for the Harvest Moon.

The women and some of the older children help make sure the elders have what they need while they discuss the changes that seem to coming their way. Finally they put away politics and concerns and settle back to enjoy the day.

Crow Fox watched the braves trying to impress the single women with their prowess in the dance. As he watched he despaired that he would always be alone. As much as he wanted to run and take comfort with his horses, he had chosen this path and could not turn away.

Bends Like The Willow had cared for her adoptive father, Hawk White Horse since his wife's death shortly after Crow Fox's birth. Once the visitors from the other tribes left the village several days after the corn dance she began preparations for her family to travel to New Echota.

They plan tol leave in the time of the Nut Moon. This will enable them to have recently harvested foodstuffs for their travels instead of relying on supplies they are storing for the winter.

She watches Crow Fox prepare his herbs and supplies, which might be needed on the trip. He helps Red Clay Bear select and check the horses they will use making sure they are sound and healthy.

Bends Like The Willow is watching Red Clay Bear and her son when, Singing Waters, wife to the chief of the White Council paused behind her.

"Your son does you proud." Singing Waters watches the horses gather around Crow Fox vying for his attention.

"The spirits ride him hard. He is much too serious for fourteen summers. He should be playing stick ball with the other boys, not worrying about how fast he can learn everything he needs to know." Bends Like The Willow sounds exasperated.

Singing Waters nodded. "In these times we must all learn many ways." She added as she continued on her way.

It was soon time for the party to leave. Grey Deer and Swift Raven had arrived three days prior, and after a flurry of activity, they were riding toward Georgia. They pushed the horses as hard as they dared and arrived at New Echota seven days after leaving the village.

The women and children began making camp while Hawk White Horse, Grey Deer and Swift Raven went in search of those in charge.

Rides with the Wolf, Swift Raven's son and Crow Fox took the horses to the river then to graze. Keeping one eye on the horses, Crow Fox scrounged the area collecting herbs and plants to add some variety to their trail rations.

It was late in the evening when the men returned with news of the disputes between the Five Tribes and the whites over land. The Congress in Washington has passed The Indian Removal Act. The government was supposed to sign treaties with the tribes taking their lands here and giving them land in a place called the Indian Territories.

"We will lose our homes?" Bends Like The Willow asked.

Hawk White Horse nodded. "Many are leaving voluntarily. There has been fighting between the Seminole and the white army. Men with guns have forced many from their lands where they have lived many generations. There is talk of going to Washington to talk with the leader of the whites about this treatment."

"Can we do nothing?" Grey Deer's wife, Face like Flowers asks.

"From what we are told the only choice is to leave before we are pushed out by the soldiers." Swift Raven answered.

"Most of the fighting seems to be in this place. Georgia." Grey Deer added waving his hand to indicate the land around him. "They do not yet seem interested in our homes or the homes of our brothers in what they call North Carolina."

They stayed at New Echota for three weeks. After members of the National Committee have been elected and a delegation selected to be their voice in Washington, they felt there was nothing else to be accomplished so they return to their homes.

During the Trading Moon much information passed between the tribes along the east coast. Much of the livestock and many of the horses were sold or traded away for items that would be useful should they need to make the journey west. The tribe's council gives Bird Clan the responsibility of collecting information from the nearby towns and settlements so the tribe may be ready should they need to leave.

The village went back to its normal routine, but they were not as trusting and no longer mixed easily with strangers. All the younger members of the tribe became more focused on the skills they felt they would need to survive the coming changes. Bends Like The Willow had more students than ever wanting to learn to read and write the white language. Even some of the elders came to learn.

Crow Fox listened to the courtship woes of his friends with the young women in the village, but never did he give voice to the thoughts running through his heart. Always the white face and the bronze face of his ghostly lovers moved through his dreams.

Things took a bad turn for the Tsalagi in 1836 when the Congress ratified the Treaty of New Echota causing a wave of fear and confusion to run through the tribe. The arrival of federal troops in the area nearly caused a panic throughout the Tennessee tribes. It was becoming apparent their time in their ancestral homes was coming to an end.

Not wanting to sit and wait for the troops to ride into their village. The council once again called on Bird Clan to send their swiftest messengers to gather information about the people in charge of moving the tribes to the Indian Territories. They would choose which seemed the best then try to make their way to the fort where they were located before the soldiers took away all their choices.

Planning the First New Moon of Spring Festival in March, the village began sending messengers to all the nearby villages with invitations. Acceptances were numerous as everyone was interested in hearing any and all news gleaned during the winter.

Messengers from the other villages visit often to give and receive news. When the year turns at the Cold Moon in January, Grey Deer and Swift Raven tell Hawk White Horse and the rest of the council the time has comes to extinguish their hearth fires, they will not be relit until they reach their new homes in the West.

When the messengers return, the entire village gathers in the Town House to hear their reports. It seems the most knowledgeable of these men is a Capt. John Benge, but they would need to avoid the army long enough to get to Ft. Payne, Alabama.

As things had remained quiet, they decide to stay one more winter in their homes. They will leave for Ft. Payne during the Planting Moon. The weather will be better for the young and the elderly.

The month of May, 1838, found the army moving closer to the villages around Winchester, Tennessee. The red and white councils felt it was time to come together and finalize their plans for going to Ft. Payne.

Jensen Crow Fox Ackles was now twenty-two and a constant at his father and grandfather's shoulder. After returning from the National Council meeting, Hawk White Horse decided it was time for his grandson to not only learn the healing ways of the Paint Clan, but to learn the spiritual ways of the tribe. So in addition to his healer duties, he began learning to walk in the elder medicine man's moccasins, and his voice was often heard during council meetings.

Crow Fox tried to keep his own counsel, but there were times when the path the spirits had laid out for the him was almost too much to bear. It was at those times he wished he had the men of his dreams at his side.

As the meeting was ending, Crow Fox spoke softly to Hawk White Horse. The shaman repeated the younger man's words.

"Any money or any item you consider of value…be sure to keep well hidden for we do not know what these armies may try to take from us once we reach Ft. Payne."

Nodding sadly, the members of the tribe left the Town House to begin their final preparations.

By the time of the Green Corn Moon in June, the darkened circles of the fire pits were the only indicators that a village had once sat in the meadow by the river.

Though it was only seventy-five miles to Ft. Payne, the tribe moved carefully southward. They stayed away from well travelled paths, fearing the army would be watching. The warriors of Wolf Clan moved out in front of them scouting for the easiest route and watching for men in blue uniforms. Deer Clan scouted to the east while Bird Clan took the west. Wild Potato ranged behind obliterating the most obvious signs of their passing.

The rest of the tribe ranged within the circle of the warriors' protection collecting plants, rice, and tubers that were ready for harvesting, adding variety to their diet and saving their dried stores for the long trip ahead.

The journey was progressing well considering the difficulties that a hundred different people could have found. Red Clay Bear was able to handle the few instances of injury and illness leaving Crow Fox to replenish their supply of barks and herbs. He seemed to always be where he was most needed whether it was with Red Clay Bear or Hawk White Horse.

They had made it to the bank of the Tanasie River by the first part of September, their habit of resting three or four days at a time meant the members of the tribe were in good health. They camped for several days before crossing the river. There would be no traditional celebrations of the changing of the seasons, but the members of the tribe insisted they stop long enough to give thanks to Selu the First Woman and give thanks for all the blessings she had given them on their journey.

Lack of rain during the summer had the level of the Tanasie River low enough that there was little danger in crossing. Three days later they stood at the gates of Ft. Payne requesting to speak with Captain John Benge. Cloud Dancer, Standing Stone, and Hawk White Horse were led to the Captain's office while soldiers circled the rest of the tribe.

A short time later, the three leaders returned. Because they had voluntarily come to the fort, Capt. Benge allowed them to camp outside the stockade walls. They soon found a spot in sight of the fort, but close to water. Everyone pitched in and they soon had temporary shelters erected and cook fires started.

They had been left in peace for several days when Capt. Benge and four other men rode into camp, and asked to speak with the council. Everyone gathered in the center of camp to listen to the men.

"These men have come from the Indian Agency north of here. One of the Cherokee's great leaders, Chief Whitepath, has had a vision. He was told that he needed to find a very special man to travel with him to the west. Because of his status and to show good faith, we are searching for this person." He paused, his eyes roaming over the gathered crowd.

Many of the braves were shirtless in the September heat. The Captain's eyes roamed over the variety of tattoos that told the men's life stories. His eyes stopped on Crow Fox. Benge saw the symbols for healer, but was interrupted by one of the men wearing gold bars on his shoulders before he could decipher more of the young man's life.

"The man must be a healer and walk closely with the spirits." No one moved or shifted their attention from the strangers.

Capt. Benge took a deep breath. This group of Cherokee was their last chance. None of the other tribes at the fort had what they needed, and what he was about to ask was rarely admitted due to the stigma, for if the person had lover, both would be shunned.

"He must be two-spirit."

The silence that followed that statement was deafening. Even the babies were silent. His attention was drawn to spate of Cherokee too rapid for him to follow, but he saw the man he knew as Red Clay Bear grab the arm of a young man who carried the markings of a healer though his coloration spoke of his white blood.

Though Benge spoke some Cherokee, this was beyond his ability to translate. He turned to his Cherokee scout for an explanation, but the scout shook his head.

"It is a private matter for the family, and not of our concern. The man will walk his path as the spirits dictate." The scout turned his horse away from the group. Benge prodded the man and received a cursory 'They will come to us when it is settled'.

In the camp there was anger, tears and the beginnings of grieving as Crow Fox gathered his belongings. His mother was devastated.

"I would never have said anything, but Whitepath is considered a great leader. If I was not supposed to do this thing, the spirits would never have sent the men here to search." He argued. "If I stayed I would be cast out just as you cast out Mountain Turtle and Grey Dog."

The elders nodded their agreement. They hated to lose a brave with the Crow Fox's talents, but never had they tolerated the practice of people of the same gender lying together. It was tolerated, even celebrated within many other tribes, but not the Tsalagi.

He finished packing his belongings. When his mother would have come bid him farewell, Red Clay Bear held her back from him. Crow Fox ducked his head until he had control of his emotions. Gold fire blazed from green eyes as he gathered the reins of his horse and moved toward Benge and the others.

The men sitting astride their horses watched as a single man with head high and back straight led his horse toward them.

Everything about the young man shouted Cherokee, but it was obvious he was white. From his sun streaked brown hair, freckles, and green eyes.

He gave no look back at his family or the camp. He could only look forward for he could no longer change the path he walked. He'd hidden his true nature, but the spirits would not allow him to veer from his path.

"He has made a great sacrifice." The Native scout's voice held a note of awe.

"He is willing to leave his family to travel with Whitepath?" Benge pushed.

"He no longer has a choice."

Benge looked at the men from the Indian Agency. "I do not follow your meaning. His wife was Cherokee, but he didn't know the inside workings of the tribe.

"The minute he admitted to being two-spirit, he was considered dead to the tribe. Tsalagi do not tolerate such among them."

The man he'd been introduced to as a reporter from Washington gasped at the scout's statement.

Benge turned his attention back to the young brave as he approached, and shivered as he met the emotionless green eyes that seemed to see to the bottom of his soul. His tone was brusque when he spoke.

"You will leave at first light. You will be travelling with these gentlemen, Lieutenant Roger Lake, Scout Jesse Smith, and Steven Carlson, a reporter who will keep an accounting of the journey."

"I will be ready." The handsome young man responded in perfect English. "You have a place I may put my horse for the night?"

"Jesse will show you where to stow your horse and gear."

The Army scout led him toward a small camp along the stockade walls.

It was just light enough for the horses to travel safely when Crow Fox walked up to the stockade gate leading his gelding. He hoped the camp remained sleeping until he was gone. He did not think his heart could take the pain of leaving if he had to see them.

A rustling to his right drew his attention to the shadows in the trees.

Hawk White Horse stood in the shadows looking to the East as though greeting the day. Crow Fox did the same for he would not cause his grandfather shame by acknowledging that he was breaking tribal taboo.

"It hurts my heart to see you about to be shunned in two places. You have always had and will continue to have a hard and lonely path." He spoke quietly toward the dawn.

"I must do this. I must walk this path to the Territories. The spirits do not tell me why…only that I must."

"What else do the spirits show you?"

Crow Fox blushed. "The one they called Steven Carlson."

"What about him?"

"For now only that he will be important to me." Crow Fox also spoke to the dawn.

This was killing him. The spirits had always asked, and he had always answered, but this---this time it just too seemed too much.

Standing between them and the camp was a shiny white stallion with moss green eyes, a sleek black wolf with blue eyes, and off to the side was a beautiful but shy lynx with blue eyes.

The old medicine man gasped. "Who are the guides that wait with yours?"

"I believe the lynx is Steven Carlson. He appears so much more than just a writer. I do not know the wolf. Perhaps he belongs to the brave I see in my dreams along with Carlson."

"What of these men?" His grandfather asked, surprised the young healer had hidden so much from them.

"He will be what he is meant to be." Crow Fox answered thoughtfully.

"It is well that your new yellowed hair friend will travel at your side. I dislike the thought of you always walking this path alone."

"I know. I understand why you must follow the actions of the others." Crow Fox answered calmly.

"I do not. Though perhaps it is so I will know better how the families of the others feel. So that I may better serve their needs?"

"Perhaps I will be needed more in this place to the north." Crow Fox's voice broke.

"You think this Steven is more than a writer?"

"I think he searches for his place. His words are only part of his heart. Perhaps he will find the key to unlocking the rest."

The dun shoved his nose against Crow Fox's shoulder drawing him away from his grandfather's attention as the gates began to open. By the time his traveling companions were outside, he had mounted and was ready to begin what he knew in his heart would be the worst time of his young life.

The scout, Jesse Smith took point. Keeping watch to the rear, Lt. Lake rode slight behind Crow Fox and Carlson.

Crow Fox noticed the quick looks Steven kept throwing his way. He knew the blond was bursting with questions, so he slowed the dun's pace and told Steven to ask his questions.

"I'm sorry." Steven seemed surprised that Crow Fox talked to him.

"Ask your questions." He spoke in a low voice. "It will help pass the time."

"Do you remember your white family?" Steven asked.

"Of course, my mother is the wife of Red Clay Bear, one of the tribe's medicine men." He answered. "White men raped my mother because my grandfather wanted to make a business deal. She married a man who was two-spirit and they left her father's house. He was killed by white bandits as they traveled to New Orleans. My mother came across a camp of Tsalagi out gathering food for the coming winter." Crow Fox stated flatly.

Steven's face paled. "Your mother shunned you?"

"It is the way it is done with the Tsalagi."

"My god."

"If it is easier for you," He looked at Steve from the corner of his eye, "my mother also called me Jensen."

They rode in silence for a while.

"How long have you been a healer?"

"I started to apprentice with Red Clay Bear as soon as I was old enough to walk with him. My grandfather has taught me much of the spiritual ways of our people."

Steve looped the reins around the saddle horn to dig through his pockets for his notebook and pencil.

"It's simple to remember." Crow Fox said. "White men's greed took my mother's home and created me. Now white man's greed again takes our home."

"Very eloquent." Lt. Lake rode up to them.

"I do not care about eloquent." Crow Fox admonished. "It is the truth."

The healer was quiet until they made camp.

Carlson asked questions about little things while they ate and relaxed around the fire. Finally Crow Fox asked his own question of the three men.

"Why do you do this? What do you hope to gain?"

Lt. Lake was the first to answer.

"Duty. Though I may not agree with what's being done to the various tribes, I took an oath." He paused looking into green eyes that were far too old. "This thing is going to happen, but perhaps I can do something to not make it so bad."

Crow Fox scoffed inwardly, but kept his cynicism to himself.

"You have a good heart Lieutenant, but I fear this expedition will cause it much pain."

Jesse nodded at the healer's words though he shuddered when those eyes turned to him.

"We cannot stop this and I would have my family safe so I scout and track for the Army so my family is not behind camp fences."

"Your family was more important than your tribe?" Crow Fox rasped out.

The Cherokee scout seemed to grow smaller at the question.

"Our council chose to be forced off the land rather than go to the forts voluntarily. I would not have my wife and children make this trip in deprivation because of the pride of our council." Jesse stated stubbornly.

Crow Fox merely nodded and turned his attention to the writer.

"I am a younger son with no place at my family's plantation. I thought to put my education to use by writing and publishing my travels. Perhaps others could learn from my experience."

"Do you write the truth of what you experience or do you write that which throws your benefactors into a position of right?"

Blue eyes flashed at Crow Fox's insinuation. "I write what I experience." Steve stated adamantly.

Crow Fox gave him a sad smile.

"We shall see how long people wish to read the truth, or if they only wish to read that all the Indians have been moved to these Indian Territories."

Part II