Jamestown (The Keepers of the Ring) by Angela Hunt, Angela Elwell Hunt Read Free Book Online Page B

did not know that he would not underestimate them, nor would he behave like other unsophisticated savages. In that lay his advantage.

     
     
     
     
     
     
    six
     
     
    W eromacomico, the village of the chief of the Powhatan, lay nestled against the edge of a mighty eastward-flowing river. Ringed with the tallest timber palisade Fallon had ever seen, such a mighty wall surely meant that the chief inside had mighty enemies.
    No gauntlet of torture waited outside the village, for the chief expected no captives from this war party. But double lines of jubilant women and children lined the path inside the village, and their shouts of victory nearly deafened Fallon’s ears as he was pushed forward between the lines. Curious hands reached out to touch his clothing and hair as he stumbled along, and he endured the probing without complaint until a gnarled warrior knelt and reached out for Gilda.
    Anger rose in Fallon’s chest like bile, and he swung an elbow into the old man’s face. The brave toppled and fell over in the dust, and Fallon was certain he had sealed his doom with that reckless move. But the other Indians laughed at the man’s discomfiture and the warriors behind Fallon urged him forward.
    The three children of Ocanahonan were taken to the center of the camp and tied with leather straps to a tall pole. Inquisitive villagers quickly surrounded them, jabbering in a babble of confusion as they pointed at the captives with wide eyes and superior smiles. Fallon was able to pick out certain phrases through the din:
    “The girl has sky eyes.”
    “The boys are scratched with the mark of the Mangoak tribe, long ago defeated by the Powhatan.”
    “The one with red hair has hot blood.”
    For the first time that day, Gilda began to whimper, and Fallon spoke to her in English: “Fear not, Gilda, for God is surely with us. Do not cry, for they will see tears as a sign of weakness.”
    For an answer, she rested her head under his arm.
     
     
    “Did you find the men who make copper arrows?”
    Powhatan wasted no time in seeking his answers, and Opechancanough eased himself onto a grass mat on the floor and arranged his blanket about his shoulders before speaking. “No. The clothed men who beat the copper were gone. Gepanocon has hidden them.”
    “And the village?”
    “The women and children are slaughtered. The village elders are dead. Ritanoe will not trouble the Powhatan for vengeance, for her power is gone.”
    Powhatan grunted in satisfaction, then folded his arms and looked at his brother. “You have brought three children.”
    “Yes, my brother. They—interested me. The oldest boy is of the English. He speaks the English tongue and the Algonquin; he commands the two young ones. Both he and the younger boy are marked with the sign of the Mangoak tribe.”
    “The Mangoak are dead.”
    “Yes.” Opechancanough nodded, mindful of the other elders’ listening ears. “The mighty Powhatan have devoured the Mangoak. But it is said that some of the Mangoak escaped to live with the clothed men at Ocanahonan. They wore the clothes of the English and worshipped the Christ.”
    Powhatan said nothing, but stared straight ahead.
    Opechancanough went on. “The girl is Indian, but she has the blue eyes of the English. She is marked, too.”
    “What tribe?”
    “The Powhatan.”
    Powhatan stiffened, then turned slowly to stare at his brother. “How can this be?” he asked, unfolding his arms. “No Powhatan lived at Ocanahonan.”
    “No,” Opechancanough answered, feeling his way carefully. He suspected that he knew the girl’s origin, but his answer might insult the chief.
    He picked up a stick and began to write in the dirt, an act that never failed to inspire awe in the others. “Do you remember, mighty Powhatan, five winters past, when your son Kitchi hunted in the woods near Ocanahonan? The deer were plenteous that year.”
    Powhatan nodded, and Opechancanough went on writing and speaking. “A man of