Riverbreeze: Part 3 (48 page)

Robert pressed his lips together in resentment. It was one thing to recruit men to fight; it was another to press women into service. He exchanged a look with Jamie who was gnashing his teeth at the order to bring his horses.

Captain Neale was not finished though. “Governor Berkeley also orders that all lead whatsoever, lead weights or other lead that you may possess be contributed to the war effort, excepting lead upon glass windows. And there will be no shooting of guns or spending of powder unnecessarily for weddings or burials upon pain of fine and corporal punishment.”

Robert let out a short sarcastic laugh. “Well, as a matter of fact, you can have the lead upon my windows. They’re already broken.”

“Indeed.” Neale responded with raised eyebrows, glancing to the right and left at the front windows.

“The ones in the back.” Robert explained.

“Ah. Well, then, that would be most appreciated.”

“I’m sure it would be.” Rob muttered under his breath.

“Governor Berkeley appreciates your service, gentlemen. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be off to my next stop. Robert, Jamie…” Neale bowed formally, “I will expect to see you tomorrow, bright and early. You’ll be in my company. God be with you.” And he turned and strode down the path towards the river, his sword swinging at his side.

“Well, what do you think of that?” Rob asked Jamie while he watched Neale disappear through the brush.

Jamie snorted. “’Twas only a matter of time. I’m not happy they want to use the horses, although I expected they would. I wonder where he’s going next.”

“The Paulette’s? So he can recruit young Hugh and Harry?” He slammed the door shut.

That brought everyone running.

“Ladies?” Rob addressed the expectant group. “Tomorrow you are required to travel to Jamestown to help in the war effort—“

“What?” Elizabeth gasped.

“To sew padded coats. And Jamie and I are going on a hunt.”

“A hunt?” Evelyn asked this time, clearly perplexed.

“Savages. To wipe out every one of them.”

“Yahoo!” Dolnick cheered from behind the women.

But the rest of them weren’t so cheery. Robert met Elizabeth’s eyes and all he saw was fear. He himself didn’t know exactly how he felt. Yes, he had wanted to kill every one of those savages that had attacked him and his family, but to kill all of them? The entire population?

Of course, the primary goal was to capture Opechancanough and bring him to trial for twice staging and carrying out vicious attacks on the English colonists. Robert wondered why they hadn’t done it the first time, but back then there were far fewer men to search for this elusive chief. And while they did counterattack, soon starvation and mere fatigue, on both sides, ended that first war.

The rest of the day was spent packing and tearing out windows. Everyone was in an ill-tempered mood, even Dolnick who at first was delighted with the idea of going to war. But Jamie had the option to make him stay home because who knew how long this campaign would last; and that’s exactly what he did. He told Dolnick he needed him to take care of the mares and foal, the cow and her calf, the goat and chickens. Nathan was needed to tend to the garden and crops and the beagles. The two servants complied, Dolnick grudgingly, Nathan more agreeable, but later Jamie confided in Robert that he was worried that Dolnick might run away to join the fighting.

“There’s nothing we can do about it.” Robert said, ripping the lead caning from the little diamond-shaped panes of glass, shredding his gloves. He wondered how many bullets this amount of lead would make. Fifty? One hundred? Why hadn’t he thought to melt it down himself and stock pile bullets for his own use? Now it was too late. “You’ll just have to trust him.”

Jamie snorted. “You’re lucky; Nathan is happy to stay home.”

Robert shrugged his shoulders. “’Tis about time I had some luck.”

That may have been cruel, but it was the truth.

At supper there was very little conversation. The women were especially quiet. What could Robert say to ease their worry? In two days’ time, he or Jamie or both of them could be dead. It was not a pleasant time.

In bed that night, Robert held Elizabeth in his arms as if he never wanted to let her go. And she clung to him, quiet tears wetting her cheeks.

“I don’t want you to go.” She whispered, her throat tight.

“I don’t want to either, but I must. I can’t refuse; I can’t run away and hide; ‘tis my duty as a citizen of this colony to be a part of the militia and that means defending this colony against all enemies, whoever they may be. Besides, I do want revenge. I want Opechancanough captured.”

“But how do you feel about the rest? Killing women and children? Destroying their villages and crops? Burning everything to the ground?”

“I’m not supposed to feel anything about that. I’m supposed to obey orders.”

There was no more talk because it wasn’t worth getting all upset over something they couldn’t control, so they just held each other, listening to each other’s heart beat.

Robert didn’t know if Elizabeth slept much; he wasn’t even sure if he slept any, but he must have because he remembered a dream, a nightmare more like it, that jolted him awake, bolting him upright, letting out a scream.

Creeping through the misty woods, peering through trees, vines and brush, listening for footfalls or twigs snapping. Hearing nothing, seeing nothing, seeing no body. Then out of nowhere, Matchitehew, his face dripping with red paint so resemblant of fresh blood, wielding a hatchet and throwing it straight at his head where it sliced off his ear.

“Aaah!”

“What is it?” Elizabeth gasped.

“Bad dream.” He panted.

“Daddy?” Robin cried from the trundle bed.

“Come here, son.”

Robert pulled Robin into bed with them and placed him in the middle. He held his family, comforting them and loving them as much as he could, and soon he could tell by their steady, soft breathing that both Elizabeth and Robin had fallen asleep. But he never closed his eyes again that night.

* * *

Jamestown was a beehive of activity. Soldiers gathered and drilled inside the fort. Men, alone or with their families, arrived from all over the colony. Messengers ran to and fro. Hawkers set up booths and sold their wares; and women scurried between houses and the fort, carrying bundles of finished coats. It was apparent that preparations had been going on for some time already.

Many fires burned in different locations, an extremely hot fire at the blacksmith’s melting the lead for the making of bullets, another outside the tavern, roasting an entire pig, and smaller ones used for cooking stews and boiling water. The smell of baking bread was in the air—this came from the tavern also—along with the yeasty aroma of brewing ale. And finally, several ships bobbed in the ebbing river, moored to the wharf, including the one ship which was being readied for Governor Berkeley’s ocean voyage to London.

Robert and company were met at the dock by a boy barely in his teens, dressed in plain shirt and breeches, both grimy and sweat-soaked. The day was already hot and muggy, even at this early hour of the morning; and the air buzzed with swarms of mosquitoes and gnats. It promised to be a scorcher of a day.

Great
, Robert thought, mopping his face and neck with a handkerchief already soggy with perspiration. What an awful time to go to war, the hottest season of the year. The English with their scratchy wool clothing, heavy padded coats and even heavier armor, how will they ever hold up? The Indians have it right, going around nearly naked; although naked flesh doesn’t do well against bullets and swords and knives. If Robert had a choice, and he does actually, he’ll wear the padded coat to protect against native arrows. He doesn’t relish the idea of going through that experience again.

The boy waved them in quickly, breaking off to slap a mosquito at his neck. “Bring your lead over there first.” He shouted over the general din, pointing to the blacksmith. “Your women to Mrs. Langdon’s place at the far end of River Road, then you three to the Deputy Lieutenant to have your powder and shot weighed.”

“They’re not staying.” Robert said, indicating Dolnick and Nathan who had traveled with them in the shallop in order to bring it back to Riverbreeze. Jamie had traveled alone on Pisador, towing Apollo behind him. Robert took a quick look around, but didn’t see him yet. There were plenty of other horses though, possibly twenty, tied up along the wall of the fort.

“They need to move quickly then to make room for the next boat.” The lad said.

In fact there were several boats waiting to dock.

“Go, Nathan,” Robert ordered, then pinned Dolnick with a stern look. “Remember, Dolnick, Jamie and I expect you to remain at home. Do not defy us in this. You know what happened to our last servant.”

“Yes, sir.” Dolnick muttered, unhappiness evident in his expression. Then at the last second, he added, “God be with you, sir, and Master Jamie.”

“And you, Nick.” Rob said, touched. He waved them off, wishing he could leap into the boat and return home with them, leaving all this behind. Of course he couldn’t, though, and he would never abandon the women and his son. Although, when it came time for him to join the march, he would feel like he was abandoning them. Unfortunately, there was no getting around the order. His wounds were completely healed; he couldn’t use that excuse, and just declaring you didn’t want to go wouldn’t suffice.

Turning to the women he said, “Will you be all right making your way to Mrs. Langdon’s place alone? I have to bring this lead to the blacksmith and then I’ll come back to check on you.”

Elizabeth started to reply—not looking particularly happy about having him leave at this time—however, Roger Davis suddenly appeared, obviously just having arrived right behind them. He clapped a hand on Robert’s shoulder. “I’ll take that, Rob.” He generously offered. “We can’t allow these lovely ladies to go through town unescorted, can we?” He bowed formally to the three women, then tapped Robin’s nose, saying, “Look at you, Robin, all grown up in your little breeches. It won’t be long before you join your father in the militia, eh?”

“No! No want to go!” Robin cried, burying his face in Elizabeth’s shoulder.

“Please, sir, you’ve upset him.” Elizabeth scolded, patting the lad’s back.

“For God’s sake, Davis, the boy isn’t yet three years of age!” Robert snapped. “Aren’t you rushing things a bit?” He joined Elizabeth in patting Robin’s back, murmuring, “’Tis all right, son. You’re all right.”

Roger was immediately apologetic. Stammering, he said, “I beg your pardon, sir, mistress. I didn’t mean to upset the boy. Most young lads love to play soldier.”

“Well, not my son.”

“Forgive me, Rob.” Davis bowed, tipping his hat. “I’ll take my leave. Your bag of lead?” He held out his hand.

Mollified, Robert handed it over. “Thank you, Roger. I do appreciate it.”

“You’re quite welcome.” He said stiffly, bowing again, formal as ever; then he turned to leave.

Robert sighed, instantly having the feeling that this was wrong, letting him depart with this animosity between them; after all, he could be dead in a matter of days and making enemies with a man like Davis would not benefit Elizabeth at all. She would need friends and neighbors to lean on, to call on for support, maybe even one day to marry one of them, even though that thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. Davis was an upstanding man, after all…. “Roger…” He waited until the man turned back to him. “Friends?”

Roger smiled.
Somewhat good-looking too
, Robert thought, although who was he to recognize beauty in a man. Roger said, “I’m the one who should be asking that, but of course, friends.”

Robert nodded once, letting that be the final word; and Roger walked off.

Robin calmed down and there was no harm done, so they turned right to follow the dusty road along the riverfront to Mrs. Langdon’s place. Elizabeth murmured constantly to the boy, reassuring him, telling him he was all right and pointing out various people, animals, birds, and activities to distract him. She pointed to sailors climbing nimbly up the rigging, inspecting sails and ropes while others rolled barrels of supplies up the gangplank. There wasn’t any activity at the tobacco warehouse, but in front of it a pudgy-faced merchant displayed his wares, brightly patterned earthenware plates and bowls and glazed jugs. A fat, noisy pig was rooting around a pile of vegetable scraps and suddenly two dogs darted across the road, chasing something they couldn’t see.

“Doggys?” Robin said, pointing and smiling. And that’s all it took to make him forget.

Thank goodness
, Robert thought. He didn’t want Elizabeth burdened with more unpleasantness. Watching him march off to war was enough.

Mrs. Langdon’s place was a tidy little piece of property at the end of River Road, surrounded by a recently white-washed picket fence. She and her husband, Oliver Langdon, had built the clapboard sided house less than a year ago. It faced the river rather than New Town, giving them a beautiful view of the waterway and countryside beyond. At the moment, more than a dozen children were playing in the yard watched by three young women, two of them with infants in their arms. When Robin caught sight of the children, he immediately squirmed to get down. Elizabeth let him go.