Dangerous Dreams: A Novel (44 page)

Inside her cottage, Emily heard shouting and cheering, walked outside to see what it was about. Most of the people were gathered in the village center, hooking arms, dancing in circles, singing
halleluiah
, praising God, proclaiming their salvation. She queried the first person she came to, a soldier, “What is it, soldier? What’s happened?”

“ ’Tis a ship, Mistress. A ship’s at anchor down by the southern outlet to the sea. Not Governor White but some other ship, a supply ship sent by Raleigh, we think. Governor Baylye told us to cease preparing for tomorrow’s departure, said that if the ship’s crew doesn’t come to
us this afternoon
, he’s taking both shallops out to
them in the morning
to discuss supplies and passengers who may want to go to Chesapeake with us. Oh, yes, he’s also asking them to transport us to Chesapeake, so we don’t have to squeeze onto the pinnace and shallops. ’Tis a happy day, Mistress.”

“Indeed it is.” Emily smiled at the young man, nodded. “Indeed it is. Thank you.”

Since Elyoner’s revelation, Emily had avoided Hugh Tayler, was unsure what to say to him or how to approach him. She had searched for opportunities to surreptitiously speak with Sergeant Gibbes, query him about Tayler in some roundabout manner, but had found none. Tayler and Emily had crossed paths several times during the intervening days, but each time she had quickened her pace, pretended to be deeply engaged in some task, and told him that perhaps they could talk later.

A while after hearing of the resupply ship’s arrival, Emily proceeded to the marshaling point to retrieve the small bag she had placed there earlier in the day, saw that John Gibbes was alone at the site. He had been there all afternoon preparing the cargo manifest for the next day’s voyage, but because they were no longer departing the next day, he had been crossing off items as their owners retrieved them. When he saw Emily approaching, he smiled at her. “Good day to you, Mistress Colman. And a happy day it is.”

Gibbes always seemed to have a smile on his face and a pleasant disposition, which inspired a broad smile of equal quality from Emily. “Good day to you, Sergeant Gibbes. How’s your task progressing? You look quite busy.”

Gibbes had never spoken to a woman as stunning as Emily, and his knees tried to buckle beneath him as he searched for a response. “Well . . . well, Mistress, most of it’s been collected, and I suppose the owners of what’s left are too busy celebrating to worry about baggage at the moment.”

Emily was tense, uncertain what to say. “Well, I’m here to get my bag and . . . and Sergeant Gibbes, may I ask you about something rather sensitive?”

He assumed a serious, quizzical look, hesitated for a moment. “Of course, Mistress. What would it be?”

“Well, I hope you’ll keep this between you and me, but a friend of mine told me something she heard about Master Hugh Tayler’s background in England and said you might know something of it. I feel terrible asking you such a thing; but you see, Master Tayler and I have been seeing each other, and it’s quite important that I know the truth of this matter because it
could
affect our relationship. Again, I feel very awkward and improper asking you such a thing, but ’tis of great importance.”

He frowned, looked around to see if anyone was watching. “Mistress Colman, every time I’ve seen you and Master Tayler together, I’ve wanted to tell you about him, but I didn’t think it proper to do so, me being a soldier and all. But yes, there
are
things you should know about him, and since you’ve now asked, I’m obliged to tell you the truth.”

Emily bubbled with cautious anticipation. Gibbes clearly knew something, and it wasn’t good, but how could she know if it was true or simply the slander of a disgruntled soldier. No, she thought, he’s not the sort to slander. What he tells me
will
be truth. “Thank you, Sergeant Gibbes. I’m very grateful to you.”

“Well, Mistress, I’m afraid it isn’t happy news, but for your own good, here’s the story. When Hugh Tayler was—” He suddenly stopped talking and said, “Good afternoon, Master Tayler.”

Emily spun about as Hugh Tayler walked up behind her.

Tayler ignored Gibbes. “Good afternoon, Emily. I see you’ve met Sergeant Gibbes.”

Emily tensed, glared at him with a mix of contempt and fear. “Aye, I have, Hugh.”

Tayler shifted his gaze to Gibbes. “Well, please continue, Sergeant. I don’t want to interrupt.”

“We were just discussing how pleasant it will be to be rid of this island and live where we’re not in constant danger. But we’ve finished . . . and I
must be about my duties.” He looked at Emily. “Perhaps we can continue our discussion another day, Mistress.”

“I’d like that, Sergeant Gibbes. I enjoyed the conversation.” She smiled a false smile, told him with her eyes that she was desperate to hear what he knew.

Tayler said, “Well, Emily, it looks as if our salvation has arrived. May I carry your bag for you?”

Emily was now convinced that Tayler had a past—one that could threaten their relationship, that now made it impossible for her to be at ease around him, and that instilled an instinctively cold formality to her disposition toward him. “If you wish, Hugh.”

They walked silently for a minute before Tayler said with an edgy voice, “Emily, something bothers you. What is it? Can I help?”

Emily wanted to confront him but realized she wasn’t ready. “No, Hugh. I don’t think so, but . . . but . . . Hugh, someone told me something I must ask you about.” She stopped, faced him.

Tayler looked at her with an intense, challenging look. “And what might that be, Emily?”

“When you were back in England, did you—”

“Emily! Emily!” Thomas Colman shouted as he ran toward his daughter.

Tayler and Emily turned toward him, saw an urgent flurry of activity in the village behind him.

“What is it, Father?”

“Manteo’s arrived with terrifying news. The ship at the inlet is
not
an English supply ship. ’Tis a Spanish man-of-war; he saw the cannon ports and flag. He also watched for a good while but saw no one leave the ship, probably because of the late hour. But certain danger awaits us in the morning. So come. We’ve little time.” He tugged her toward the gathering place. “We’ve decided on a course of action, and Roger wants all to hear it; for as you can see, chaos has already descended upon us.”

As her father pulled her toward the village center, Emily glanced back at Tayler without expression, read a new, tense, anxious look in his eyes. In her heart, she wanted Elyoner to be wrong, wanted Tayler to be the gentle, honest man she’d known, but she now feared it would not be so.

Roger Baylye said, “My good people, at this moment, we face the gravest peril of our lives. A Spanish warship lies just outside the inlet through the outer banks to our south. Either the men aboard her already know of our presence and will soon attack, or they’ll discover us on the morrow to the same end.”

Whispers, then protests, buzzed through the crowd. Worried faces looked toward the inlet, glanced at other anxious faces.

“Therefore, I fear we’ve but one choice, and that choice is to depart Roanoke under cover of darkness—tonight.”

“What do you mean, Baylye?” a man asked. “We can’t sail out of here in the dark.”

“We should stay and fight,” shouted another.

Yet another said, “Why didn’t the governor warn us about Spaniards?”

Baylye raised his hands for quiet, spoke softly, urgently. “Please! Please! Don’t shout! The Spaniards have ears. ’Tis not that far to the outer banks, and sound travels a great distance. They may not have detected us yet, and we daren’t hurry that moment.” Like eager schoolchildren who’d spoken out of turn, they fell silent. “We’ve no time for discussion or argument, so please listen to me. Since the Spaniards block the only passage through the outer banks to the sea, we’re now trapped in the sound and cannot sail to Chesapeake on the open sea. Thus instead of an easy, familiar voyage up the coast, we now face a shorter but far more perilous sail up the shallow sound.”

Suddenly gaunt, fearful faces watched Baylye in silence as the realities of their plight seeped into their minds like water into sand.

“Darkness will greatly heighten our risk; and ’twill take a full day’s overland journey after the voyage, to reach our destination. But if we can—”

“Why don’t we stay here and fight?” a man said. “We’ve palisades and weapons, and mayhap they won’t discover us or even come here.” Several agreed.

“Nay!” Baylye said. “The Spaniards are a trained fighting force, probably four or five times our size. We’d be slaughtered like swine. No! We must make a silent escape tonight and avoid discovery and contact at all costs. We cannot win a fight; so I ask you, would you rather try to escape
or be a Spanish slave for the rest of your life? Forsooth, we”—he paused for a moment as a sudden, grim silence, such as occurs in the second after the headsman’s axe falls, descended upon the gathering—“forsooth, we enjoy a nearly full moon; and with fair winds and luck, we can make the north end of the sound before sunrise. Further, our pilots are well used to sailing the sound and know her shallows and sandbars, as well as how to hold a compass course.” He cleared his throat, swallowed hard. “However, we
will
have to leave many belongings behind lest we overload the ships and create too much draft for the shallow waters. The pinnace has a six-and-a-half-foot draft, fully loaded, and that’s too deep for some places in the sound. She’ll strike bottom. On the other hand, the shallops have only a two-foot draft, so we’ll put
all
of the remaining baggage and equipment on the shallops. But to be safe, we’ll leave the spare lead, cannon, extra shot, iron bars, and Governor White’s three chests behind; and we will bury these items in concealed locations, so the Spaniards and Savages cannot find them. We can then return and retrieve everything after the Spaniards depart. Now, to further lighten the pinnace load, all women and their men will go on the pinnace. Soldiers will be assigned to vessels by Sergeant Myllet. Next all single civilians, including me, will draw from this bundle of sticks to determine who goes on which vessel.” He pointed at a bundle of twigs held by Sergeant Myllet; it was wrapped in a cloth to conceal their lengths. “We’ve calculated the maximum number of men that can fit on the two shallops, and there are exactly that number of short sticks in the bundle. So if you draw a short stick, you’re on a shallop, and a long stick puts you on the pinnace. Last, my friends, there must be no fires or noise. We must accomplish everything in candlelight and silence, and as rapidly as possible.”

All the single men then drew a stick from the bundle. George and Baylye drew the pinnace, and Tayler a shallop. Tayler threw his stick to the ground, glared at Baylye, then looked distraughtly at Emily.

Baylye said, “One last thing. We must dismantle our dwellings to deceive the Spaniards into thinking we abandoned Roanoke and returned to England some time ago; and hopefully, this ruse will discourage them from searching elsewhere for us. We will also cast all of our fireplace ashes into the sound and conceal the latrines.”

Thomas Colman said, “A good plan, Roger.” Others nodded assent.

Baylye nodded at Colman, took a deep breath, scanned the crowd. “Friends, as your leader, ’tis my duty to tell you that navigating the sound is challenging in daylight. ’Twill be far more so in darkness, and few of us are skilled sailors, but we
will
do it. My friends, we’ve only an hour until dark, so let us now pray for our deliverance and then prepare to meet our fate.”

All but Tayler and one other dropped silently to their knees, held each other’s hands, prayed silently, then together, that the Almighty would guide them through the night and see them safely to Chesapeake and a reunion with their comrades. After a moment’s hesitation, people began to rise, scurry about, dismantle cottages, carry belongings to Sergeant Gibbes at the marshaling point, while the soldiers quickly dispersed and started burying the items that would be left behind.

Roger Baylye beckoned to Robert Ellis, who jogged over to him. “Robert, did you finish carving
CROATOAN
on that big tree on the pathway?”

“Oh! Beg your pardon, Sir. I’m afraid not. I was working on it when the salt crew returned with news of the ship, and I was so excited I followed them back here to celebrate.”

“Well, I understand your excitement, lad, but how much did you complete?”

“The first three letters, Sir. The carving says
CRO
instead of
CROATOAN
, but—”

“That’s good enough, Robert. Governor White will understand it.” Baylye suddenly wondered if the Spaniards might understand it, as well— particularly
CROATOAN
on the palisades post—and go to the island and seize the three English colonists, torture them into disclosing the colony’s whereabouts. Too late now, he concluded. Too late for
everything
. We shall have to take our chances . . . God be with us. He shook off an icy chill as he started for his cottage, saw Hugh Tayler approaching, stopped, faced him. “Hello, Master Tayler. You look as if you’ve something on your mind.”