The Curse Keepers Collection (49 page)

“Is this what you saw with Governor White?”

“All
nuppin
know this place is hallowed, but I did not know its true significance until I performed my cleansing ceremony on this spot with the governor. The question is why
this
ceremony revealed the truth to me. Many ceremonies have been performed here, but to the best of my knowledge, no one before us saw what we saw. The only explanation I can come up with is that this was the first ceremony conducted with a
nuppin
and a
tosh-shonte
. Perhaps the participation of men from two worlds in a ceremony so sacred is what weakened the barrier and gave us a vision.”

An Englishman and an Indian being together in this place had made Manteo aware that it was the gate to hell? It seemed preposterous until Ananias considered that Manteo was one of the most levelheaded people he knew. “What did you see?”

“John White and I saw into the future.”

Ananias’s breath caught, remembering the fear in Manteo’s eyes the week before, as well as his cryptic words. “And you saw death?”

Manteo hesitated. “Kupi.”
Yes
. “The barrier between the worlds will break and evil from the depths of hell will spill upon the earth. From this place.”

“When?”

“I do not know.”

Evil from the depths of hell. That could only mean demons. “Can we stop it?”

“I do not know.” Manteo circled a small oak tree. “You must understand, gods and spirits already roam the earth. Just as you believe your One True God exists everywhere.”

Your
One True God. So Manteo didn’t really believe in the English God, after all. Well, that was the least of Ananias’s worries. What Manteo claimed sounded crazy, but what was crazier was that Ananias believed him.

“What about demons?” he asked.

Manteo’s gaze found Ananias’s. “Some roam the earth. Most are locked away. Like in your own beliefs. Our gods are not so different.”

Ananias bristled. “There are no
gods
, Manteo. Only
one
God.”

“There is Ahone, our creator god, just like your One True God. He created the world and all life on it. Okeus is the other half of Ahone, our Satan. Our wind gods are what you call archangels.” Manteo stopped in front of him. “Our spirit worlds are the same, Ananias. We only call them different names.”

What Manteo said made sense, but it went against everything Ananias had ever been taught. Never mind their names, Ananias had to make sure his family was safe. “And you saw the demons escape? If we went to your island down the coast, would my wife and daughter be safe from this danger?”

“No. Once the demons escape, I think there will be a dormant period while they acclimate to our world, and then they will spread to the four corners of the earth.”

Ananias took a deep breath. “And John White saw this vision too?” Maybe John had been trying to soothe Ananias’s fears when he called what he and Manteo had experienced a dream. If he had seen the invasion of spirits into the world, then he would want to warn the queen. Perhaps that was the real reason he had chosen to return to England.

“Yes, but I do not know if his vision was the same as mine. We all see different things. We all have our own unique gifts from the Manitou.”

“What is this Manitou? An evil spirit?”

“No it is the life force that gives a soul to all living things. Like your Holy Ghost.”

“That’s not the same, Manteo. The Holy Ghost is part of the Holy Trinity.”

“Call our spirits whatever you like. To ignore them is foolish. They
are
coming.”

To believe Manteo meant Ananias was spitting into the face of the One True God. Blasphemy. Yet he couldn’t dismiss the heavy blanket of evil soaking through his skin and stealing his breath. A feeling that had become stronger and stronger since he’d stepped onto this spot.

God help him, blasphemy or not, Ananias believed it.

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

Two months had passed since John White’s departure, yet Ananias’s unease remained. The heat had disappeared, bringing cool air in its wake. There had only been minor skirmishes with the Roanoke tribe and no further contact with the Dasamongueponke. All was well in the colony, yet Ananias knew what was coming.

Hell was about to break loose.

He might have dismissed the threat as his father-in-law had done—writing it away as a dream, a vision—if Manteo hadn’t still been on edge. While the native had never been a jovial man, he brooded constantly now. To make matters worse, he had left two weeks ago to visit the Croatan and hadn’t returned. Ananias couldn’t help wondering if he would abandon them after all, regardless of his vow.

The men of the colony had hunted enough meat to carry them through the winter, and they were rationing the flour. Baby Virginia was not only growing but thriving. Ananias loved the evenings when his family of three retired to their small home. Elinor would sew while he played with his daughter. Whenever he walked into a room, she immediately smiled and had even begun to laugh. Despite the cloud that hung over him, Ananias’s heart was full.

Life was almost too perfect. Ananias couldn’t help thinking that this period of peace and contentment was the calm before the storm.

So Ananias wasn’t surprised when Manteo returned from his expedition on a cold, gray November afternoon, claiming he had disturbing news. When pressed for more information, he refused to say anything until the assistants were called for a meeting. They wasted no time in gathering in the center of the village, each man wearing a grave expression. The remaining townsfolk weren’t allowed to participate in the meeting, but they stood outside the circle, eager for the savage’s news.

Manteo’s gaze spun around the group. “The Roanoke have gathered a raiding party of over five hundred. They plan to attack.”

“How do you know?” one of the men asked. “You were supposed to be with your people.”

Manteo’s gaze darkened. “I encountered a scouting group on my return trip. I heard them discussing their plans.”

The group was silent for several seconds as they took in the news. One of the men finally asked, “Will your people fight with us?”

Manteo hesitated, glancing at Ananias before leveling his gaze at the speaker. “No. When I visited them, they told me they refuse to stand with you in any future encounters. They see you as the wrongdoers after your attack on Dasamongueponke . . . particularly after the massacre of the Roanoke a summer ago.”

“That makes no sense,” one of the men shouted. “There’s no love between your people and the Roanoke. Why would they side with them?”

Manteo’s eyes darkened. “The Croatan do not side with the Roanoke, but they do not find your people trustworthy. They feel you deceived the Roanoke and will do the same to them.”

An angry murmur spread through the group. “You call us
your
people now? One trip back to the Croatan and you’re no longer one of us?”

Manteo’s chest heaved and Ananias could tell he was restraining himself. “Two years ago, I swore to stand by your people. Nothing can release me from this bond.”

His answer seemed to appease the men, but their anxiety grew.

“So what do we do? Are we to be slaughtered?”

Manteo didn’t answer directly. “You are outnumbered.”

“We have guns!” one of the assistants reminded them. “We can hold them off.”

“Aye,” one of the men agreed. “And the fifteen men left behind with the fort had guns. Look what happened to that lot.”

A sober hush fell over the crowd.

“We should leave,” a woman called out from the back. “We should leave this place. It is death.”

“And where would you go?” a man asked. “We have no transportation to get anywhere.”

“You can go to my people,” Manteo said. “If you hike south, I can send for boats to meet at the crossover point.”

“It’s a trap!” someone shouted. “He just said his people wouldn’t help us!”

Manteo took a deep breath. “The Croatan will not defend you while you stay here, but they will allow you to live on their land.”

“This is
our
land,” another man argued. “We must stand our ground.”

“But if we are in danger of being slaughtered—” one of the women protested.

A large man stepped into the center of the circle. “
Enough
. I am in charge in Governor White’s absence and you will do as I say.” Roger Bailie was next in line after the governor, which would have made the colonists listen to him in his own right, but his height and the tone and timbre of his voice also demanded their attention. “We came to this land to make a home. If we back down every time the Indians bang their drums, they will
never
respect us. We need to show them we aren’t going
anywhere
.”

The villagers grumbled until someone shouted, “What do
you
think, Ananias?”

Ananias hesitated, turning toward Manteo.

“My father left us here for a reason,” Elinor said before he could speak. “
He
believed we could hold our own.”

“Your father left us here because the captain wouldn’t let us back on the boat! He left us to the same fate as my George!” Elizabeth shouted, still bitter over her husband’s death. “Your father was a coward who saved himself and left his daughter to die!”

Elinor’s mouth dropped, and the blood drained from her face.

Ananias couldn’t bear to see his wife hurt by her friend. He stepped forward. “The governor loves his daughter more than he loves himself. He would never leave Elinor here if he thought her life was in danger. He’s been to this land three times. Do you think he would have brought her to her death?” Ananias swallowed, wanting to believe his own words. “When the governor left, most of you wanted him to go, and now you’re cursing him for leaving. Which is it?”

They complained and grumbled for another hour, finally deciding that they would stay and defend themselves against the Roanoke.

When Ananias and Elinor returned to their hut, Elinor laid the sleeping babe in her cradle. Ananias pushed the door closed and turned to his wife, speaking in a hushed voice, “We must leave this place, Elinor.”

Her head jerked up. “What are you saying? That goes against everything you said in the meeting.”

“I only said that to save your pride. We need to leave.”

“And go where?” Elinor pulled her sleeping gown from the chest that held all their worldly belongings. “Where would we go?”

“South. To Manteo’s people.”

She tossed the cloth onto the bed, anger blazing in her eyes. “That Indian is not to be trusted. He’s leading our people to our deaths.”

“No, Ellie. He’s my friend and I trust him. It’s insanity to stay.”

“Then why would you tell the villagers otherwise?”

“You and I both know there is no arguing with Roger Bailie once he’s made up his mind. To argue in such a public arena could have caused mutiny.”

Elinor sat on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands in her lap. “What would you have us do, Ananias? Run off in the middle of the night? Are you really such a coward?”

“Coward?” Ananias shouted, clenching his fists. “I am no coward, Elinor. I would gladly die if it meant you and Virginia would live. But I could die a hundred deaths and the fact remains: The Indians will kill you. After they torture you and the babe.” Nausea filled Ananias’s mouth with a bitter taste. “I cannot stand the thought, Ellie.” He sat on the bed next to her, grabbing her hand tightly, his voice choking. “I cannot bear the thought of you or our daughter defiled.”

Elinor held his hand to her chest. “You must have faith, husband. You must trust our Heavenly Father to protect us.”

But Ananias
didn’t
trust God to protect him. He’d lost his faith the night Manteo had brought him to the gate of hell.

He stood, his back stiffening. “Go to bed. I wish to clear my head in the evening air.”

“Ananias, what are you going to do?”

Hearing the anxiety in her voice, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth. “Ellie, I love you and the baby. I need to sort this out in my head.”