1609, Winter of the Dead: A Novel of the Founding of Jamestown (5 page)

Nat was shoved against the wall by the door, behind Kendall and Edward Brookes. Most of the men in the cabin didn't seem to notice he had been brought in, and the few who did gave him disdainful glances.

“Mutiny,” Archer was saying. “The man is clearly up to it. It is clear he's planned it from the beginning. Smith has no respect for those in command, such as yourself, Captain Newport. He sees himself as the dashing rogue, hero to the underlings such as the sailors, commoners, and laborers, winning their favor for his own gain.”

“Untrue,” said Smith simply.

Archer pointed a finger at Smith, close enough to brush the other's nose. Smith did not flinch. “Look at your own history, Smith. Fighting with the Hungarians for adventure, not for the good of England but for your own glory, I daresay! Caught and sold as a slave by the Turks, escaping to Russia and then home again, full of tales which catch the fancy of those who listen. But if they listened more carefully and more deeply, they would see what we see, nothing but a braggart after his own interests.”

“Yes!” echoed several other gentlemen.

Archer continued, “I daresay you were never taken slave but conjured the elaborate tale to make yourself into somewhat of a legend! And you see the opportunity to be legend yet again, at the expense of the Virginia Company!”

“I was provoked into the fight with you,” said Smith. “I would not raise my sword but for the same reason you would, sir. To protect the honor of my name. If I was unshackled at this moment, I would raise it again for what lies you have said against me just now.”

“Indeed!” said Newport at his desk.

“I care for the welfare of this expedition as much as the next,” said Smith. “I have said it before and will say it again, it is your jealousy speaking. You wish you had but a fraction of the courage I have!”

“Arrogance!” said Archer.

“Truth,” said Smith.

Captain Newport shook his head, then his gaze fell upon Nat. “There is the boy you requested, Smith.”

God save me!

“Boy,” said Captain Newport, one eyebrow raised beneath his cap. “Smith has made a request that you be brought in to tell what you saw on the deck yesterday.”

“Me?” Nat was shocked that he could find his voice. “What I saw, sir?”

Smith looked at Nat straight on, and in an even tone said, “You witnessed the altercation from the onset, boy, did you not?”

“I…,” began Nat.

“You were on the ladder, making for the 'tween deck, but you stopped, and I saw you watching there. I am not a successful warrior nor—” he gave Archer a quick, cold glance “—a cunning man who escaped the clutches of Turkish slavery because I do not observe what is about me. And I observed you, boy. On the ladder. Tell these fine gentlemen what you saw.”

“Well, sir…,” said Nat.

“Of course he will testify on behalf of Smith,” said Kendall, giving Nat a shove and knocking him against the door. “This smelly little hold mouse? That is what Smith is hoping for, to win the affections of the common folks so they will do his bidding!”

“So they will lie for him,” said Archer.

“Regardless,” said Captain Newport. “Boy, have your say. You have been called to testify as to what you observed yesterday from the ladder.”

What do I say?
Nat thought frantically.
If I speak on behalf of Smith, I am in danger of the others. If I speak on behalf of Archer, I am in danger of Smith.

“Speak!” demanded Newport.

“The sun was in my eyes, sir,” said Nat. “So brightly I could not tell a cloud from a sail. I saw nothing.”

“No?” said Newport. “Then tell us what you heard.”

“There were several men below me on the 'tween deck who were in a row, so loud a row that I could make out nothing but the argument. I heard not a word spoken between Captain Archer and Captain Smith.” Nat did not look at Smith, but at the floor. It was a nice floor, even and covered with a piece of Oriental rug.

“Ah,” said Newport. “Then take the boy back where he belongs. That was a waste of our time!”

A soldier grabbed Nat by the upper arm and steered him out through the door. Nat was left on his own to go back down to the 'tween deck.

Richard nearly pounced on Nat, tossing his weaving aside. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” said Nat as he plopped onto his pallet.

“What did you say?”

“I said nothing. I had nothing to say.”

“Damn you!”

“So be it.”

Nat drew up his knees and waited. It was another hour before there was word from above. Edward Brookes clambered down the ladder and wiped his hands in satisfaction.

“Well,” he said as he pointed a finger in Samuel's direction. “You are no longer a page. You are now a laborer like these other two boys. We'll have you killing rats and dumping our pails.”

Samuel was incredulous. “No longer a page?”

Edward Brookes giggled. He dabbed at his face with a dainty, chubby finger. “Smith has been found guilty of attempting murder and mutiny. He is confined in the galley, and will not be allowed out until we stop for more supplies. There, we will hang him by his neck until he is dead.”

“Guilty?” Samuel's word was barely a whisper.

“Yes,” said Archer, who was just now coming down the ladder. “Praise God justice has prevailed. The man will hang and we will all be the better for it.”

“And I am to clean the waste buckets and kill vermin?”

“Unless you want to hang like your master for disobeying the order of a gentleman,” said Edward Brookes. He rubbed at a fold of fat beneath his chin. “You'll do exactly as you are told.”

Samuel went silent. The gentlemen, clearly pleased for the most part with the verdict, settled down and picked up their dice and their cards and their flutes. The commoners drew together and whispered in disappointed voices.

“Nat,” said Richard. “Smith is going to hang.”

“Yes.”

“We'll have no one to take our part should things get bad! He was the only one who treated us as men.”

“I know.”

“There must be something we can do!”

“Absolutely not. We must continue as we have.”

“But, Nat, he will hang!”

“I am sorry for Smith. But what I feel matters not at all. I should just as well believe the sun should be purple, and the waters of the ocean filled with cattle to be caught and brought a-deck for our meals.”

“You do not care?”

“I can't care. And neither can you.”

“If you were unjustly sentenced for an imagined infraction,” said Richard, “I would come to your part!”

“If it was life or death, you would not. And I would not for you, either. Now, be quiet. The men are listening to us.”

Richard went silent. Nat could feel the confusion and anger steaming off him. But Nat couldn't change the facts. Smith was a survivor. If anyone could escape a hanging, this man could. And if not, then there was nothing Nat could do about it. He and Richard needed to survive, too, and on this cursed ship it would take a blind eye and deaf ear to accomplish that.

6

April 19, 1607

Smith is a survivor! I can learn much from watching him. We sailed along the islands of the West Indies days ago and disembarked on several occasions to replenish supplies of food and water. We stayed three days on one lush tropical isle named Nevis.

Archer told us, “Here we shall wash our clothes and ourselves. We shall eat good foods of this place and recover our strength. Then we shall take care of our prisoner and leave his body like carrion for the scavenging natives!”

“Ah,” said Edward Brookes. “Entertainment for us all.”

Richard, Samuel, and I were compelled to carry several gentlemen's goods up the ladder, but when we got out on deck, we found soldiers, gentlemen, and captains alike staring in amazement over the railing at the shore.

John Smith was standing on the sandy beach, alone. He was in full uniform, with his helmet in place, breast armor on, and cape swept back, showing his sword, dagger, and powder horn. From his boot top protruded yet another, smaller dagger. In one hand was a musket. Smith was smiling as if to say, “Come and get me, any who dare!”

Archer shook his fist. “How did that man get ashore? How did he gain access to weapons?”

Kendall shouted, “Who helped this murderous villain gain transportation to the shore?”

No one answered. Each man seemed as confused as the other. The pinnace had been lowered into the water already, so clearly someone had rowed the captain ashore.

I couldn't imagine who had done this, but was glad.

Archer complained angrily to Newport as the gentlemen took their turns being rowed to the beach. The pinnaces from the
Discovery
and
Godspeed
also carried their passengers to the banks of the island, although once on the land, no one went to take hold of John Smith. Instead, everyone stood back and watched as Smith settled himself on the ground with a few curious, naked natives who had come from the forest, and tried to hold conversation with them.

Richard and I were in the last shuttle. As I climbed down into the pinnace, I heard Archer tell Newport on deck, “The carpenter Edward Pising will bring tools. There is wood here. We will carry out Smith's sentence in spite of his trickery.”

The sand on the island was warm. Sailors brought the store of weapons ashore. Even Richard, Samuel, and I were outfitted with helmets and muskets. Once everyone was off the ships and gathered around, we knelt while Reverend Hunt blessed the land and the ships and the voyage.

“Protect us and let us carry Your glory into this land,” Hunt prayed.

Then everyone stood and looked again at John Smith.

Archer said, “We will now build a gallows for Smith!”

But Newport said, “Indeed? I have decided I will not go after Smith. See how quickly he has made friends of the savages yonder? He is invaluable. Leave him be.”

Archer was incredulous. “Leave him be? We held court and he is condemned to die! Kendall, support what I say.”

Captain Kendall came and stood beside Archer, but the eye he kept on Smith showed hesitation.

Reverend Hunt then approached Newport and the other two captains and said quietly, “God may have His hand in this. Smith has befriended the savages, blessing our presence with peace rather than war.”

“I cannot believe my ears!” shouted Archer.

“Do you mean to confront him, then?” asked Newport. “Go ahead, Archer, if you feel you cannot face another day without hanging John Smith!”

Archer glared at Smith, who had stood now and had turned again to face the company of men. The wind tossed his cape; the smile on his face was defiant and confident.

“Face him and his talents with sword and dagger,” said Newport. “But you and Kendall will do it alone, for I will have nothing to do with the man's death.”

Archer stared at Smith for another moment, then spun on his heel and stalked away. Kendall trotted after.

With Newport's unofficial pardon of Smith's conviction, we all went about exploration. We journeyed inland and found a large, warm spring which was just the proper temperature for long and soothing baths. Smith was back in the fold; he chatted with a number of the men and laughed with others, while Archer, Kendall, and their close friends scowled uselessly.

Days later we sailed west to an equally lovely island of the West Indies called Mona. It was here, on April 7th, that we lost the gentleman Edward Brookes on a lush green hillside. A long hike proved too much. I heard the gentleman George Percy explain to another that Brookes's fat melted inside him and he died. I learned much from the sniveling Brookes. I learned what type of man I will never become, regardless of the wealth I gain in Virginia.

We are on our ships again, with no more stops between here and Virginia. Samuel has grown melancholy and quiet. Even with his master out of chains, he seems as if he's lost some of his nastiness. I think I liked him better when he was obnoxious. At least, he was more interesting.

Soon we will be there. Soon.

Soon I shall walk barefoot in the gold I have come to know so intimately in my dreams. I shall build my home and send for servants from London to work for me, to tend my animals and raise my garden and stand guard over my treasures. I will be strong like John Smith, and cunning, and quick. I will never be cold again. I will never be poor again. I will never be hungry again.

The time is so close. The time of suffering is nearly done!

Thank God.

7

April 26, 1607

“V
IRGINIA
!” Nat's eyes opened.

“It is there!” came the shout from up deck. “The shores of Virginia, and it is as good and fair a land as we have ever seen!”

Everyone went up to the deck and stared. Nat wormed his way beneath shoulders and elbows to the railing.

Virginia! We have made it!

“Praise God from whom all blessings are bestowed!” said Reverend Hunt.

“Amen!” shouted the men. Above, on the roundtops, sailors cheered and howled in the pale morning light.

Nat turned his face to the breeze and took a long breath of the Virginia coastal air. The three ships sailed more closely to the land and dropped their anchors. The pinnaces were lowered and made ready to carry some of the men ashore. Across the water, there was visible a beautiful land, different from England and Mona but lovely in its own right. Sparkling sand, waving waterside plants, and tall needle-leaved and broad-leaved trees stood back from the beach like watchful citizens.