Riverbreeze: Part 2 (20 page)

Normally the Powhatans were happy to receive iron tools from the English because they didn’t have the knowledge to make their own, but today was different, unfortunately for the brothers. Opechancanough remained unmoved. He slowly crossed his arms over his chest and looked down his nose at them. “Good for chopping fingers and toes.” He said ominously.

Robert steadied his breathing. He tried to ignore what Opechancanough had just said, but it was clear that the Chief wanted more. Reluctantly he continued, saying in a reasonable calm voice, “I also bring you my knife.” He laid the hatchet down and drew out his knife, but before he could even present it, four of the tribesmen scrambled up, surrounded Robert and seized his upper arms. They held him just tight enough to let him know that if he struggled, he would lose. So, Robert went completely still, his mouth dropping open in shock.

“You bring knife to kill me!” Opechancanough barked, his eyes black with fury.

Robert became just as furious. This was an outrage! After two years of friendship, Opechancanough believed Connelly over him. This was an insult that wounded him deeply.

Robert now struggled against the hold on him, but it was useless. “
I swear to you, Chief
Opechancanough, I did not come here to kill you
!
I swear it
!” He yelled.

Finally Owasewas spoke up, saying some rapid words to his chief. His voice was low and respectful, but deceptively persuasive. Robert was impressed. Owasewas must have learned that technique from Opechancanough himself.

The words had some effect because the chief took a moment to consider them, his gaze steady on Owasewas, then he grinned suddenly, looking rather pleased. For the moment Robert felt some hope and sighed in relief. He hadn’t been able to understand what Owasewas had said, but he had heard Connelly’s name. In all probability Owasewas had told Opechancanough that Robert was willing to give Connelly up.

Robert was right.

“I keep Con-nel-ly?” The chief asked.

Robert exhaled. He hated to agree to it, but his life and Jamie’s life came first. “Yes. Yes, you keep Connelly…” From beside him Jamie jerked. “No, Rob.” He cried.

“Shut up.” Robert hissed back. “There is no other way. Connelly is ruined anyway.”

The chief picked up on Jamie’s distress. He pointed to him. “You trade
pawcussack
?”

“No!” Robert spoke up before Jamie could open his mouth. “No
pawcussack
. We give you Connelly. Our gift to you, Chief Opechancanough. Our gift to you to bring you good fortune in your hunt.”

There was a minute of tense silence, then Opechancanough started to yip and ululate in triumph. Then men released Robert and joined in, their shrill cries sending chills down Robert’s spine and raising the hair all over his body. This went on for several minutes; Robert watched them, relieved it was all over. Jamie stared at the floor in shock and dismay and Robert squeezed his shoulder in comfort.

When they were finished celebrating, the men affectionately beat on Robert and Jamie’s backs a few times, jabbering complimentary words of thanks. Opechancanough sat with his head high, looking smug. “A fine gift, Rah-bert.” He said. “You stay for sacrifice.”

The invitation took Robert by surprise. Jamie made a strangled noise. “Ah, no.” Robert said quickly. It was one thing to leave Connelly here; it was another to watch him being murdered. “No thank you, Chief. We must go soon; we have far to travel.”

Again Opechancanough regarded Robert. “Mmm. You see Makkitotosimew? He asked.

Robert blushed unexpectedly. “If she will see me.”

“Go.” He said, making a waving motion with his hand. “She waits.”

“Thank you.” Robert said, bowing his head. He rose slowly from his mat, wincing a little when he put weight on his sore leg. He feared the trip back home was going to be long and painful.

Jamie also stood up and bowed his head to the chief.

“When you come back, James?” Opechancanough asked. “When you take woman?”

“I’m married now, Chief.” Jamie said honestly. “I take only her.”

Opechancanough laughed. “You English stupid. I have twenty wives. Come, Nittawosew…” He waved to the girl at the back. She came forward and kneeled beside him. “
Marowanchesso
.” He said, rubbing her belly. “A boy this time.”

“Congratulations.” Jamie said, nodding to both of them. “I do wish you the best.”

Opechancanough just grunted. Then he shooed them out of the house with a wave of his hand.

* * *

Outside the longhouse, Robert filled his lungs with delicious fresh air. It felt so good to leave that oppressive heat and to get away from Opechancanough’s penetrating stare. So he had lost Connelly, but deep down he had known all along that he wouldn’t get him back. Opechancanough drove a hard bargain.

While Owasewas took Jamie to his family’s hearth for rest and food, Robert made his way to Makkitotosimew’s wigwam. Normally she would have been busy tending the family stew, or out collecting Chinquapin chestnuts or persimmons. But he guessed that someone had warned her that he was in the village and as he approached the door, he could hear the sweet music of her flageolet. She was playing a favorite tune of hers, a tune she often played for him when she was particularly happy. It was light and playful, with many quick notes in a row. He felt awful, knowing he was about to break her heart.

Sighing, he scratched at the mat, then pulled it back to enter. She stopped playing, rose lithely and ran to him. “Robert.” She cried, throwing herself into his arms.

He caught her and held her, smelling the pine scent in her hair and the musk of her body. Her upper body was bare, as it normally was, and her lush breasts pressed into his chest; his hands roamed over the smooth skin of her back. Naturally his body responded, but as soon as it did, he gently took her by her upper arms and pushed her back.

She frowned, looking into his eyes. “What is wrong?” She asked in correct English. She had learned quickly from Robert and he had always been impressed with her intelligence.

Robert took a deep breath. “Let’s sit.” He said. “We need to talk.”

She obeyed, still frowning, gracefully sitting down on a mat on the floor. She waited patiently for Robert to follow.

He tried to smile at her, but his facial muscles seemed frozen. Instead he took her hand. “I…” He hesitated, not wanting to say the words. He hadn’t expected this to be so difficult. He looked into her eyes; he had always thought her eyes to be so beautiful, almond shaped and exotic. She had the loveliest high cheekbones and a wide, expressive mouth and full lips that had always driven him wild. God, he had to forget her. “I have something to tell you.” He forged ahead. “I’ve gotten married…”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but she tilted her head, continuing to listen politely.

Robert had expected her to say something horrible, or scream or shout or something, but then he remembered that just because a man married, it didn’t mean he couldn’t have another wife…or another…or another. “Makki, I can no longer come here to see you. In my world one man marries one woman and they stay faithful to each other. I’ve explained this custom to you before. Do you remember?”

She nodded, silent tears welling up in her eyes and slowly rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh Makki, I’m so sorry.” Robert said, pulling her into his arms. She cried softly on his shoulder, gripping handfuls of his shirt at his back. He wanted to cry along with her. “I’m so sorry. I hadn’t planned on getting married. Before my father died, he arranged everything. I had to do my duty.”

“Your father died?” She asked, sniffling.

He nodded and swallowed around the lump in his own throat. “Two days ago.” He said. My God, it had felt like a lifetime ago, so much had happened.

“I am sorry, Robert.” She said in her gentle voice. She touched his face with her fingertips, tracing his cheekbone, his jawline, his ear. “I knew this would happen one day. I hoped you would join us, but in your heart…” She placed her hand over his heart. “…you not belong here. You are a gentleman…” she smiled teasingly. “even when you wear these clothes and make believe you are one of us.”

Robert swallowed again, speechless. He was amazed; she had seen through him all along. “I will never forget you, Makkitotosimew.” He whispered, touching her face tenderly. He also traced her face, one finger following the triple row of dots that had been tattooed across her cheeks and nose. “You have brought me such joy in the most difficult time of my life. I can never thank you enough.”

“I have enjoyed you as well, Robert. Be happy with your wife.”

“Thank you. And you be happy with Askook.” He whispered, embracing her again. They clung to each other for several quiet moments, their hearts beating almost as one.

When they parted and just as Robert was about to turn to leave, suddenly she asked, “Is she pretty like me?”

That made Robert laugh. “No, she’s a redhead.”

“A redhead?” She questioned, looking confused. “She paints her head red?”

“No!” Robert laughed again. “She has red hair, like a fox.”

“Oh.” She said quietly, smiling in return. But then her smile faded slowly and she looked at Robert for a long moment, as if she were memorizing every detail of his face. He did the same, enormously saddened.

“Good bye, Robert.” She said softly.

“Good bye.” He said, and turned quickly and rushed out of the wigwam, nearly tripping over his own feet. His heart was pounding and he took in great gasps of air, raising his face to the sky. He felt like such a cad, not a gentleman at all like she had said he was.

Finally he looked down to see Jamie and Owasewas approaching him, both of them looking concerned.

“Are you all right?” Jamie asked upon reaching his brother.

Robert shook his head. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” He said, his voice raspy.

“We see you again soon?” Owasewas said hopefully

Robert shook his head again. “I do not think so, Owasewas, unless you visit us.” He put his hand on Owasewas’ shoulder. “You know you’re always welcome to visit us. I’ll miss you greatly if you don’t.”

Owasewas smiled. “I visit. I miss your beer.”

Robert laughed and cuffed him affectionately, shaking his head at the boy. “You rascal.” He said. Then he turned to Jamie. “Ready?”

Jamie nodded, his eyes seeking out Connelly one more time. Robert put his arm around his brother’s shoulders. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save him.” He said in a low voice.

“Do you think he’ll go to heaven?” Jamie asked, staring at the pitiful sight of Connelly half-unconscious.

“He’ll go to heaven.” Robert reassured him, whether he himself believed it or not. “He’s a good lad.”

Jamie just nodded, too choked up to say anything.

“He bring us good hunt.” Owasewas added lightly.

Robert just smiled wryly. Then he looked around the village one last time, waving at the women and children who were watching from around their fires. At that moment, Opechancanough came out of his longhouse, stopping to stretch and expand his lungs in the fresh air. He looked gravely at Robert and Robert felt sudden chills break out all over his body. This old man was not yet finished with the English, Robert thought. Nevertheless, he raised his hand in a friendly farewell and Opechancanough returned the gesture.

Then, as the brothers slowly walked away from the village, they heard the beginning of the feast; the beating of the drums, the singing and the chanting, and then Connelly’s blood-curdling screams. The methodical amputating of parts of his body at the joints and throwing them into the fire had begun, then methodical stripping of his flesh from his face and head would follow and the pieces thrown in the fire while Connelly was made to watch; then his innards would be pulled out and thrown in the fire. Finally his body and the tree would be burned in the pit together and the sacrifice would be complete.

“Oh God.” Jamie moaned, falling to his knees among a large stretch of lush, green beardgrass and golden rod. He clasped his hands together, his eyes skyward, and he started reciting the Lord’s prayer. “
Our Father, who art in heaven, Hallowed by thy Name…”

And surprisingly Robert joined him.

Chapter Twenty-three: Secrets Revealed; secrets kept