Riverbreeze: Part 3 (29 page)

And yes, there were trees all around it, dead trees that could crack and fall at the slightest wind gust. Their property hadn’t been cleared before they had taken possession of it like his property had. They had done it the typical way, girdling the trees so they would die and let the sun in through the leafless branches and planting their crops amongst the lifeless trunks.

Well, he couldn’t worry about it now. He had his own troubles.

The sun had risen, but you would never know it. Thick, dark, low-level clouds completely blocked it. The tree-tops were getting whipped around, causing a great roar.
What a day to go out
! he thought, but the rotten weather might also keep Wesley away. Nobody in their right mind would go out today.

Robert had already made his decision and he wasn’t going to allow the weather to change it. Owasewas had agreed to help him with the search, eager to do something other than hang around the house. He was used to being active, either hunting or fishing or helping with the harvest. This time of year, when native plant foods were non-existent and all crops had been harvested, the men spent their days hunting intensively for migratory waterfowl.

After a hearty breakfast of oatmeal with milk and honey, corn cakes, stewed apples and cider, prepared by Dolnick and served to everyone who was awake, including Roger’s servants, Nathan and Dolnick and he, Jamie and Owasewas, he took a quick moment to say good bye to Abigail and to explain his plans. He knew she was nervous with all the men in the house and now that they knew Burnett was back, she lived in fear every day. Hopefully this search would bring some results and they could all return to their normal lives.

Robert bundled up, in buckskins, coat, hat, scarf and gloves. He also had a rolled-up blanket slung over his back. He brought his pistol, enough powder and shot to kill twenty men, and his big hunting knife. Owasewas had his bow and arrows and a tomahawk that his people had traded for. Robert also carried sacks of dried venison, nuts, and dried apples. He planned to be out all day, possibly even overnight.

They were mostly silent as they made their way towards the back of the property, hunching their shoulders against the fierce wind. They started out by easily finding the spot where Roger’s servants had been ambushed. Tracks and scuffmarks had been left in the dirt. There were also trails leading into the stable where the men had been dragged and left tied up. But the Indians were cleverer than Wesley and Burnett. Their trail back into the woods was invisible while it was quite easy to track the two Englishmen, their boots leaving clear footprints. Once in the woods, however, it became more difficult. Robert wasn’t much good at tracking and finding signs of a person’s movements, but he remained alert and watchful, following Owasewas’ example.

At least the wind wasn’t as strong in the woods as it had been in the open. However, high above them, the tops of cypress trees and the bare branches of oak and hickory bent and swayed alarmingly with each gust of wind. Small dead branches fell down on them and every once in a while, in the distance they heard a larger branch crack and crash down onto the forest floor.

As they searched the perimeter of the property, Owasewas’ eyes were like an eagle’s, studying every inch of leaf and pine-needle-packed ground they walked on and examining every bare branch, every evergreen branch, every sapling and every bit of vine and brush they came upon.

He was able to follow a trail of some sorts, watching for broken branches and scuffs and indentations in the leaf debris. He found a black thread attached to a bare branch and further on strands of dark brown hair which could have come from Burnett.

Robert started to get excited, keeping close to Owasewas and looking for signs himself. Finally after an hour and half or so the forest gave way to thick reeds and marsh grass. They had arrived at a swiftly running creek about three miles from their starting point.

There was clear evidence of a path through the reeds.

“I can’t believe they crossed here!” Robert shouted to be heard over the howling wind, holding his scarf tight under his chin. He had tied it over his hat to keep it from getting blown off.

Owasewas’ loose hair was getting blown in his face and he turned into the wind so it would get blown back. The native seemed to be tolerating the cold wind so far, but Robert didn’t know for how long. He didn’t think anybody, seasoned or not, could tolerate this freezing weather.

Owasewas shouted back, “A trick to fool us. Powhatan men with them clever.”

“Damn!” Robert swore. He decided this was a big waste of time, continuing to search for them when they had help from Opechancanough’s people. “Forget this.” He said, looking up at the sky. The clouds looked ominous, but it was still early in the day. There was plenty of time to travel to Owasewas’ village and back again. “Let’s go to your village.”

“No!” Owasewas quickly refused. “We keep looking here.”

“We’ve been searching for almost two hours! I would like to go to your village, Wasee, if you will take me.”

This time the native hesitated, clearly undecided about something.

“Why are you denying me?” Robert demanded.

After a moment of silent vacillation, Owasewas finally spoke. “My people not talk.”

“What! Why?” Robert asked, totally shocked by that remark. “I’m a friend of the people. Everyone knows me.”

Owasewas shook his head, sending his loose hair flying. His black eyes looked sad.

Robert didn’t understand what was wrong, but he didn’t give up. “Please.” He said. “I need to see for myself.”

Owasewas hesitated again and Robert watched him, perplexed by his behavior, but finally the Indian made up his mind. “Come. We cross here.”

The rest of the journey was brutal. This was not like the last time he and Jamie had traveled to Owasewas’ village. That journey had seemed like a stroll compared to this one.

Robert’s moccasins were waterproof and he had wool stockings on inside them, but the damp cold soaked into his feet and he wondered if his toes would freeze. Owasewas didn’t seem to notice, jogging at a steady pace around more marsh land and through acres of ancient forest. He knew exactly where he was going for which Robert was grateful. Luckily, he was able to keep up, but barely. The huge old trees protected them from the worst of the storm and the act of jogging kept him warm enough, but his face felt stiff and numb and his throat ached from breathing in such cold air.

Finally, three hours later they arrived. The place looked deserted. That wasn’t surprising though with the weather the way it was.

Robert followed Owasewas to Opechancanough’s long house. He was told to wait outside while Owasewas entered first. He didn’t like this treatment; something was going on, but he couldn’t imagine what it was.

Breathing heavily, catching his breath, he huddled against the wind, clutching his cloak tight around him and waiting patiently. What else could he do? Barge right in? No, he wouldn’t do that. That was not the way to get answers.

Finally after about ten minutes and thinking they were going to let him freeze to death, Owasewas lifted the mat to allow him to enter.

“Come.” He said, “Opechancanough say come in.”

Robert smiled and cuffed Owasewas’ arm. “You see? There was nothing to worry about.”

Owasewas just shrugged his shoulders, smiling apologetically.

His mood lifted, Robert stepped into the dark and warm interior. And it was warm despite the cold weather outside. Built in a sheltered area, under huge old oak trees, the house was protected from any harsh storms.

As he was led through the ante room and into the reception room, he took off his scarf, hat and gloves. By the time he shoved them into his coat they had arrived at the back of the house where Opechancanough sat on a bedstead built against the back wall, resting comfortably on a bed of fine, thick furs with two of his wives on each side. Robert remembered Nittawosew from the last time he and Jamie had visited. She was even more heavily pregnant; she looked ready to pop. The other one he didn’t know but she was young and pretty like the other one.

Surrounding the fire there were numerous men sitting on woven mats, about twenty or more. Many of them were unrecognizable to Robert and somehow different from the Powhatan in subtle little ways. He wondered what that meant. A meeting with chiefs from other tribes? He didn’t want to think about it, but he had a bad feeling about this.

It appeared that he and Owasewas had interrupted a meal because scattered among the men on the floor were wooden bowls and clay platters with bits of leftover food and bones on them. Robert hoped they wouldn’t resent his untimely visit, but as he looked around and nodded politely to the group at large—including Askook, Makki’s husband, which was rather uncomfortable—they nodded in return, their expressions neutral.
This is
strange,
Robert thought. Normally they would show irritation or anger if they didn’t like something or someone, but this group pleasantry was highly suspicious. Suddenly nervous, he started to sweat under all his layers of clothing.

He was shown to a spot directly in front of Opechancanough. He stood, swaying, his whole body fatigued.

“Wel-come, Rah-bert.” Opechancanough said, his tone congenial, but he didn’t invite Robert to sit as he always had before. “Why you come today? And where is Jamie?”

Robert was certain that Owasewas had already explained the reason for his visit; nevertheless, he would play along. “
Wingapo, mamanatowick
.” Robert said, calling him by his title-great king. Opechancanough snorted. Robert ignored that. Holding his hands out, open palms up to show he had come in peace, he continued, “Jamie is home guarding our house. I need your help, please. Two of your people are helping two of my enemies attack me and my family…”

Opechancanough’s eyebrows rose in surprise. There was movement among the other men but they didn’t make any sounds. “How you know this?”

“I do not know for certain, but Owasewas said—“

“Silence!” Opechancanough roared. Robert jumped, but he shut up. Opechancanough then spoke to Owasewas in their native language and a short exchange took place.

Suddenly Opechancanough laughed. “Those men not my men. Pamunkey. I know nothing more.” He crossed his arms over his chest to indicate that this conversation was over. He sat, his face set like stone.

Robert stood there with his mouth hanging open a little. That was it? Opechancanough wasn’t going to give him any more information? Damn! “Sir… mamanatowick…” He tried again, holding out his hands in supplication. “I have nothing to trade today, but please—“

“No! I-know-nothing-more.” He repeated, slowly and distinctly, his expression hard. He uncrossed his arms and pointed at the door with one gnarled forefinger. “Go! This talk over.” Clearly his patience was at an end.

Robert was dumbfounded…and scared. He was already sweating from standing in this hot place; now he felt like he might faint.

Quickly, so as not to embarrass himself, he turned to leave. Then at the last second, he turned back, bowed and murmured, “Thank you, sir.” Then without waiting for Owasewas he nearly ran out of the long house, stumbling over furs and baskets and tools and anything else that got in his way.

Outside, he stood, gasping for breath for a minute. He was trembling all over. How could he have changed from a friend of Opechancanough’s to an enemy of his, because that’s what he felt like right now, an enemy, albeit a lucky one. He was let go.

Owasewas came out. “You all right?”

Robert nodded. “What is going on, Owas? He looked at me as if I am the enemy, an English—“ He stopped suddenly, realizing the terrible truth. “Oh my God!” He whispered. He looked at Owasewas, feeling sick to his stomach. “I am the enemy. An Englishman.” Robert knew exactly what was happening to the savages. More and more Englishmen coming to the colony, taking land freely, driving the savages further and further from their homelands, destroying their way of life. There had also been individual incidents involving native people stealing guns, food and clothing from planters and those planters killing the next native person he saw. Opechancanough went to the governor wanting justice and a law had been passed that any planter wronged by a native person should report the incident to the nearest militia commander rather than act on his own, but Robert knew many planters still took matters into their own hands.

“I tell you.” Owasewas said matter-of-factly. “You must go.”

Robert blinked at him, stunned. “I can’t right now. I must rest and eat something.”

Owasewas softened towards his friend. However, that didn’t stop him from teasing Robert. He let out a laugh. “You weak Englishman. Come with me.” And he led Robert to…to…

Robert was shocked. This was Makki’s dwelling. He gaped at Owasewas as they approached the door. “No.” He breathed in protest.

“She will welcome you. No other will.”

Oh my God
! Robert thought. Maybe he shouldn’t stay. Maybe he should run for his life. But Owasewas had already announced their presence by calling out to her in his native language and Makki had already lifted the mat covering the doorway to let them in.

Robert nearly fell over when he saw her. She was pregnant, not too big, maybe five months along, which meant she had been pregnant the last time he had seen her, although not showing yet. Why hadn’t she told him? She wore doeskin leggings, a doeskin apron and a fur cape made from otter skins wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair was long and shiny and she had a little shell necklace around her neck. She was more beautiful than Robert remembered.