Part 13 (1/2)

”Did they stay away from the council that John-white called because they feared a sickness?” I asked.

Wanchese said with a sly smile, ”The peoples of Ossomocomuck do not heed John-white or Lord Manteo.” ”The peoples of Ossomocomuck do not heed John-white or Lord Manteo.”

Then I understood that Wanchese had prevented the weroances from meeting with John-white. Did he threaten the ones who wanted to make peace? Why? Because he wanted power only for himself? I think he was envious of me because the English preferred me from the beginning.

Now Wanchese was speaking to me as if I were a mere boy.

”Manteo, you do not understand the doings of men. The English are buying your faith with empty honors. They try to buy us with beads and copper, but I am not deceived. I know they plan to betray us.”

Wanchese's words were like seeds on damp earth. I felt doubts growing within me. Some of the colonists hated all natives. John-white said he wanted peace, but why had he brought so many soldiers, if not to make war on us?

”I have been across the water like you and know the English are many,” said Wanchese. ”We must make them fear to come here. We will unite and show the white men our strength. Kill them before they kill us.” He gripped my arm. ”And if you do not join my alliance, you and your people will suffer.”

My anger rose. I would not be threatened by Wanchese. I was a weroance by the power of the English kwin, whom I had vowed to serve. I could not betray that vow and keep my honor. Nor would I let my people submit to Wanchese.

”What are you asking me to do?”

Wanchese replied, ”Deliver the English to us.”

My heart drummed inside me. I thought of John-white's kindness to me. His daughter and the child. The brave maid with the dark hair who had found George-howe's body, yet welcomed the Croatoan to her house. How could I deliver them to Wanchese? To their deaths?

”Would you destroy the women and children too?” I asked.

Wanchese only shrugged. ”Show me where they are weak, that I may know when to strike.”

I, too, could be a deceiver. ”Give me time to consider how this can be done,” I said.

I went back to Roanoke filled with uncertainty. When I arrived, John-white was gone and I was greeted with cold, mistrustful stares.

Chapter 26.

The First Winter Edmund Vickers was lucky to be little and have no worries. He dashed through the fields shouting and waving his arms. It was his job to keep the crows and deer away from the crops, and he thought it was a fine game. Sometimes Georgie would join him, and I would smile to see the large boy capering like a court fool while little Edmund clapped his hands. Not a whole village of scarecrows, however, could have made the maize grow taller. Only rain would do that. But not a drop fell in all of September, and the spindly stalks turned brown. When at last we plucked the ears and stripped the husks, the kernels were as small and spa.r.s.e as baby's teeth. After a portion was set aside for planting in the spring, what remained was enough to last only two months.

The beans fared a little better, but most of the squash had rotted on the vine when the frost came. Everyone blamed the planters, who said it would not freeze because of its thick skin.

Whenever two people met, they talked about the weather and debated how many days it would be until the governor returned, and whether his s.h.i.+p would take the southern route or the more direct but dangerous northern one. All agreed he could not reasonably return before December. As winter drew closer, Betty Vickers would kneel down right in her garden or in the middle of the street and pray out loud for deliverance.

John White's house was still the meeting place for the a.s.sistants. Ananias had returned home and made peace with Eleanor. He even began to listen to her advice. ”He owes me that much,” she said. When I had an opinion, I would tell it to Eleanor, who would pa.s.s it to her husband, who might raise it with the a.s.sistants. He seemed to regret his part in ousting John White from the colony.

But Ananias was not strong enough to stand in the way of Roger Bailey, who took leaders.h.i.+p of the a.s.sistants. At once the dispute resumed over whether or not to remain at Fort Ralegh. Bailey wanted to disregard the governor's instructions and move the colony to Chesapeake. Ambrose Vickers and many of the colonists were also of this mind. But three a.s.sistants thought it wiser to remain on Roanoke Island and await relief. One of these was Christopher Cooper, who of late had set himself openly against Bailey.

”Our governor won't return. We are on our own,” insisted Bailey.

This made Eleanor weep, and she used all her persuasion, including tears, to convince Ananias to wait for her father's return. Thus he voted with Cooper and two other a.s.sistants to remain at The fort, leaving Bailey and his two supporters furious at being outnumbered.

”We'll take this matter up again,” said Bailey darkly.

When Manteo had returned from his envoy to the Indians, he was surprised to find John White gone. Bailey and Ananias gave no explanation and made him feel so unwelcome he had gone back to Croatoan. Now that winter was approaching, they summoned him back and offered kettles and axe blades in exchange for food. Manteo opened his hands and said the Croatoan had no food to share.

”I don't believe him,” said Bailey. ”He wants us to starve.” He said this in front of Manteo as if he lacked understanding.

Ananias continued to probe Manteo about which Indians had food, but Manteo said the harvest had been poor everywhere. I listened, stirring the kettle in which the soup was already thin.

”What good is he to us?” Bailey asked Ananias, then turned his back on Manteo, dismissing him.

Manteo said nothing to defend himself. I was ashamed of Bailey and wanted to show Manteo we were not all so lacking in respect.

”Perhaps Lord Manteo will help us repair the broken weirs,” I heard myself say. ”Then we can at least catch fish and dry them for the winter.”

There was a silence in which I could hear Bailey seething.

For a moment Manteo's eyes met mine. Was it surprise or grat.i.tude or simple interest that I glimpsed there? I turned back to my kettle, not daring to look at Bailey.

I heard Manteo say, ”It would please me to do this for my friends.”

Ananias clapped his hands, breaking the tension, and proceeded to discuss the broken weirs with Manteo. It was not long before they were fixed and several of the men had learned how to maintain them and build new ones. Trust in Manteo was renewed as the colonists saw him working for our benefit.

John White did not return even by Christmas. Dabbing away her tears, Eleanor prepared a meal of game, dried fish, and pudding made from eggs, suet, and precious dried figs. It was a meager feast compared to the rich pies and beef I had grown used to at court. The guests were fewer, too: Georgie and his aunt Joan, and John Chapman and Alice, who was now nursing an infant son. The babies' cooings lightened the somber mood. The Chapmans brought Thomas Graham, who showed off the new gorget Chapman had made for him and tried to cheer everyone with tales of his exploits in London. I did not wish to remember those days. Alice reported the widow was ill. We were all thinner than we had been in the summer. I had to pin my skirts so they would not slide down my hips.

Christmas night the prayer service was held in the armory, the only building large enough for so many people. The preacher read a gospel and recited the litany. When he prayed for G.o.d to preserve all who travel by the sea, he fairly shouted. And we called in return, ”Hear us, good Lord!” as if G.o.d were deaf. And then, crowded together on the hard benches, we listened to a two-hour sermon, interrupted once by Betty Vickers crying out, ”G.o.d bestowed the Magi's gifts on his infant son. Surely he will provide for us!”

Alice had little patience for Betty's piety. ”What use did Jesus have for gold, frankincense, and myrrh?” she murmured to me.

”Only a midwife would say such a thing,” I whispered back.

”We could use those riches now,” said Eleanor. ”The gold alone would make our men wealthy enought to forget all their troubles.”

”No, they would only fight over it like dogs over a bone,” said Alice. She was probably right.

By this time the preacher had stopped his sermon to glare at us. I heard Eleanor giggle and I smiled despite myself.

One January day, Tameoc and his band of Croatoan came to the village. There were eight of them, wrapped in furs that were white from the falling snow. Manteo was away, so there was no one to translate. But their need was clear, even without words. Mika's eyes were large in her thin face. Takiwa held her small boy in her arms.

Ananias and Roger Bailey went out to meet them but kept their distance.

”We have no food!” shouted Bailey. ”Go home.”

”Bad sickness,” Tameoc said, pointing to the child.

”No medicine either. Go away,” said Bailey, waving his arms.

Ananias started to plead with him, but Bailey went back into his house and bolted the door. From shame or fear of sickness, all the doors in the village remained closed.

The Croatoan turned and left, and Ananias came inside.