Dangerous Dreams: A Novel (68 page)

BOOK: Dangerous Dreams: A Novel
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Hugh Tayler shifted his deadpan gaze from Emily to the bottom of the palisade section where they stood together.

Emily watched him with a stern, suspicious look.

He faced her, started to reach for her hands, but she withdrew them. He took a deep breath. “Emily, in all you’ve told me, there’s but one truth. When I was twelve, I did indeed leave my good friend, Charlie, alone in the moors; and he did, in fact, drown. ’Twas a shameful act of cowardice on my part, and I give no excuse for it beyond my own youthful fear of being lost in a dark, foggy, haunting swamp, an unspeakably terrifying experience. I dream about it every night, and it will torment me until I die.” He shook his head. “No matter that there was really nothing I could do to save him. What
matters is that I didn’t
try
, and I lied about it to his and my parents . . . and I shall forever regret my actions.”

Emily’s eyes saddened with unwilling compassion. “Hugh . . .”

“But, Emily, the remainder of what you’ve been told is completely false, and I shall refute each charge in turn.”

Her hard look returned. “Go on.”

“First let me say that I detest the people who’ve slandered me, but I respect your wish to conceal their identities; nevertheless, I know who they are, and I’ll now tell you the truth about
them
. All
three
of them are shameless knaves who’ve made a pact to undermine and destroy me.”

Emily held her silence. Three? Who besides Johnny? She felt a discomforting seed of uneasiness worming its way into her mind.

Tayler’s face began to redden; his eyes filled with a fiery anger Emily had not seen before, an anger that frightened her. “I’ve already told you about Johnny Gibbes. Now let me tell you about William Waters and Michael Myllet.” He spoke with disgust.

Emily’s eyes widened. Cannot be, she thought.

“Waters courted my younger sister; and when she spurned him, he beat her . . . broke her nose, cut her cheeks, blackened her eyes. When I heard of it, I called him out; but he refused to face me, ran away and joined the army, which I would have denounced had I known about it, for I had many influential army friends who could have blocked his commission. But as it turned out, by the time I found out, he was already in and established, and ’tis most difficult to force an officer out once he’s in service. And as for Myllet”—he shook his head, flashed a disgusted sneer—“ he’s but a vagabond who had the fortune, or misfortune, to know Waters’ family, and was able to exploit the connection in the army to rapidly ascend to sergeant’s rank . . . which he ill deserves. He’s a churlish lunkhead, incapable of independent thought . . . a mere dancing puppet for Waters . . . does his bidding like a dog.”

Emily’s mind spun in confusion; she felt as if the earth beneath her had suddenly vanished, left her tumbling through the air.

“I shall now speak of each charge that’s been brought against me, beginning with Gibbes’ sister. Please forgive my bluntness, but she was a whore.”
He frowned. “ ’Tis true I spent a night with her . . . lost my head in several tankards of ale and fell prey to my own distorted judgment. ’Tis also true that she became pregnant, but there were so many who’d been with her that it was impossible for anyone to say who the father was. So the Gibbes clan seized the opportunity to accuse
me
, attempted to extort a vast sum of money from me in return for their silence. I refused, but . . . but of my own volition, I paid for the girl’s care until she died . . . even though I was certain the child was not mine.”

Emily shuffled her feet, squeezed her hands into fists, wanted to speak but didn’t know what to say. God o’ mercy, this challenges my mind. I’m adrift in a sea of confusion . . . who to believe? She glanced around the village, saw several people watching.

Tayler spoke louder, mirrored his emotions with his hands; more people cast their glances upon him. “The battle in Holland occurred exactly as I described to you. I can show you my honorable discharge papers, which clearly state it was due to wounds incurred in the line of duty. I can also show you the citation they gave me for bravery. Anything else you’ve been told of that battle is a bold lie. Then there’s the myth of the duel with the major . . . the most outlandish assertion.”

Two Powhatans lay on the ground, one motionless, one twisting in pain. The one with the arrow in his side stood ten feet from Isna, raised his hand for the others to stop.

Soft-Nose whispered to Isna from behind, “Isna’s Lakota brothers are here.”

Isna nodded, held his position, watched as surprise then uneasiness crept into the Powhatans’ eyes . . . all but the man he’d wounded. The man hung his club at his waist, glared hatefully, defiantly into Isna’s eyes while he reached behind his back, snapped off the front of the arrow, pulled the shaft forward and out of his side, threw it on the ground, then looked slightly to Isna’s left, spoke angrily in a language similar to that of the Chesapeakes.

One of the Chesapeakes approached Isna from behind, signed that their attackers were Powhatans, that their leader, the one he’d wounded, was called the Panther and was a great warrior. He said the Panther had told him they were trespassing on Powhatan land, so the deer belonged to them.

Isna regarded the Panther with a casual, disdainful look, signed, “The land belongs to no man. The Lakota will keep the deer.”

The Panther’s eyes tightened into tiny black dots fixed on Isna while he again spoke to the Chesapeake.

The Chesapeake looked back at Isna, signed, “The Panther wants to know why the Chesapeakes hunt with outsiders, enemies of our peoples and the Powhatan paramount chiefdom. I told him the Chesapeakes are not full members of their chiefdom and hunt with whomever they please. I also told him that while the Lakota speak a language like their enemies, the Monacans, they are from far away and came in peace to trade. He then told us to go away so they can kill the Lakota, but I told him we will fight
with
the Lakota if they attack.”

Isna nodded respectfully then looked at the Panther, who seemed oblivious to the steady trickle of blood running down his right side and leg. He smiled, signed, “The Lakota are warriors such as the Powhatans have never seen . . . but the Lakota come to trade, not to fight. Still, if the Powhatans
want
a fight, the Lakota will oblige them.” This man is worthy and brave. I shall touch him with my bow one day.

The Panther smiled a stiff, tight smile, twisted with frustration and stifled rage, thought, two dead, one wounded, too many losses, not a good fight; these two strangers fight well, have humiliated us today . . . I shall kill them slowly, painfully when we next meet . . . and the Chesapeakes, though they have not fought us, shall be punished for helping them. He nodded at Isna then signed, “This Lakota wears many feathers. The Panther has seen that he is unafraid and a worthy foe. He and the Panther will meet again one day . . . but when the sun sets that day, only
the Panther
shall live.”

Isna answered, “If Isna and the Panther meet again, the Panther’s puny half-a-head of hair will hang in Isna’s lodge on the
bottom
of his scalp pole . . . a
new
scalp pole because the old one is already filled with enemy scalps.” Isna stepped slowly toward the dead deer.

The Panther leered at him, lifted his weapons from his waist, eased forward.

Isna held his pace, grasped his club and knife. The two groups closed toward one another, weapons drawn and ready. It will be a swift, deadly fight, thought Isna. It’s a good day to die.

“Waters, Myllet, and Gibbes contrived the entire story of an affair. ’Twas naught but a fabrication they perpetrated to wound and discredit me; and their dishonesty was soon discovered . . . by my benefactor, as well as by the major. But as is the custom with the army, when someone sins, but not grievously enough to warrant court-martial, they’re banished; and so it was with these three slanderers . . . banished to Roanoke Island, they were . . . and they now continue to defame my character here at Chesapeake.” He looked at her with eyes as sad as those of a man at his true love’s burial. “Emily, everything I’ve told you—the good and the shamefully bad—is true. I swear it to you. And I swear to you that my love for you is undying, deeper than the sea, and it begs earnestly for your acceptance.”

Emily’s mind spun in confusion. “Hugh, I . . .”

Two ladies working at the closest cottage had been watching the discourse. One said, “Are you well, Mistress Emily?”

“Aye, I am. Thank you.” She rubbed her eyes.

“Well, you certainly don’t look so.” They glanced back several times as they whispered quietly to each other, glared at Tayler.

Emily thought, ’tis impossible to know the truth. He’s heartfelt, sincere, seems nakedly honest. What am I to do?

“Emily, there’s something more I must tell you . . . something of the gravest nature and greatest importance . . . more so than anything we’ve yet discussed. It too will eventually come from the lips of these three liars, and I must inform you of the truth of it before they speak it.”

Emme Merrimoth ran up to Emily and Tayler. “Emily! Emily! Come quick! Elyoner needs you immediately.”

“ Emme, what is it?”

“I don’t know. She’s in a desperate frenzy over something, shouted to me from her window. Perhaps ’tis one of the babies.”

“My God!” Emily started after Emme, looked back at Tayler. “We shall finish later.”

“Emily, we
cannot
finish this here in the village. We
must
speak privately somewhere . . . anywhere, outside the village . . . without intrusion. Please, I beg you. ’Tis of the greatest urgency.”

She stopped, regarded him with a tormented look. “Very well, Hugh. I shall go with you.” She quickened her pace toward Elyoner’s cottage.

As she approached, she heard Elyoner scream, “Nooo! Lord, please don’t let this happen. Nooo!”

Chapter 16

A
llie opened her eyes, rolled onto her side, stretched. “Damn! Something’s happened to Virginia or Henry.”

Ginger said, “Hi, Allie. Awake for good?” She took a huge, gaping yawn. “Oh! Excuse me. You slept a long time, Hon.”

“What time is it?”

“About nine . . . I told you those little pills were potent.”

Isna and the Panther. Someone’s gonna die. Emily’s in love . . . big love. Wow . . . with an Indian . . . but he’s . . . he’s really neat . . . a hunk. Oh, my Emily. Don’t go with Tayler. Something’s bad wrong, feel it, scared. She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, thoughtfully.

“Hello . . . Allie. Are you there?” Ginger waived her hand in front of Allie’s face.

“Oh . . . sorry . . . I was thinking about something. Can we get the rest of these obnoxious cups off? I need to get to the girl’s room before I embarrass myself.” She sucked in a big gulp of air, exhaled as if catching her breath after a sprint. “Whew! I’m wiped out: really tired, a little dizzy and queasy, too.”

“That’s normal . . . side effects of the pill.” Ginger popped off the remaining cups. “Get up slowly, or you’ll face-plant on the floor.” She held Allie’s arm as she stood.

“Whoa, you’re not kidding . . . shaky.” She shook her head, took two deep breaths. “I’m okay now. Thanks, Ginger.” She shuffled toward the changing room.

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