Silence of Stone by Annamarie Beckel Read Free Book Online

woods away from the small settlement, but that would be a fate worse than the colony in New France. Roberval was also satisfied that he’d succeeded in instilling fear and loathing within the colonists. His punishments had been harsh: flogging just for stealing an extra bit of hard bread, hanging fordisobeying an order, any order. Harsh, but necessary. None of his men would dare to try to escape.
    Roberval. Le cœur noir.
    I blink and shake my head, but cannot stop the visions of bloodied backs, of a body swinging with the waves until the flesh turned black. I grip the windowsill and stare into the swirls of green glass until I can replace those images with grasses and white daisies bending with the wind.
    While in St. John’s, Roberval took on supplies of fresh water, salt fish, and whatever fresh meat and vegetables he could confiscate, taking whatever he wanted by force. Recognized by the French as viceroy, and relishing that authority, he spent his days settling disputes between sailing captains and fishermen, between French and Portuguese, the latter protesting loudly that Roberval had no command over them.
    Eventually Roberval permitted nearly everyone to go ashore, even Michel and Marguerite, who had lived in terrible fear that Roberval had found them out, that he would now put them on separate ships. He seemed not to know, however, and Marguerite felt encouraged by his lack of attention. Nevertheless, Marguerite and Michel were careful to leave the
Vallentyne
separately.
    Later, in their wanderings together, they discovered a small meadow where they could lie beneath the sun’s golden eye, the tall grasses blowing in slow waves around them, the sound like rustling satin. White daisies bloomed in abundance, and Marguerite inhaled deeply, the clean fragrance of grasses and daisies awelcome relief from the fetid odours aboard the
Vallentyne
. Even the salt air smelled sweeter here.
    Marguerite and Michel bathed in an icy stream, then made love slowly, their bodies still wet and glistening.
    This is what it will be like in New France, Michel said, we will love under the blue, blue sky on a bed of grasses and flowers. His eyes became soft and dreamy. And we will order books from France, and you will teach our children to read and to write. You will teach them to cipher.
    He stroked her smooth belly then kissed it. The touch of his beard tickled, and Marguerite laughed. Our many, many children, he whispered into her belly, his breath warm.
    Michel urged caution in approaching Roberval about the question of marriage, perhaps understanding his nature far better than Marguerite did. With prodding from an insistent Damienne, however, Marguerite finally gathered her courage and went to her uncle. She carefully listed Michel’s merits and her own dowry, and then told Roberval that she and Michel wanted to marry.
    Would you, as viceroy, perform the ceremony?
    Non
, he said. I will not.
    Marguerite was stunned. But we are well-suited, she said, and I love him. And he loves me.
    Roberval’s lips curved into a tight smile. Love has nothing to do with marriage, he said.
    But who else is there? Who?
    You will
not
marry him.
    I will, Uncle. I will!
    Roberval drew back his arm and slapped her, so hard that she fell to her knees. Foolish girl, he said. Without my permission your union cannot be legal. You will marry no one.
    I put a hand to my cheek and feel the stinging burn, the humiliation purple like a bruise, streaked with yellow confusion and black anger.
    Marguerite scrambled to her feet. Before she could unlatch the door and flee, he said, You have already lain with him, haven’t you?
La putain!
Whore!
    Lain with Michel. La putain! Whore! Le scandale.
    The voices are like cobwebs covering my hair and face. I wave my hands to brush them away.
    Michel saw her running and followed her to the cabin. When Marguerite told him what had happened, he put a trembling palm to either side of her face, careful not to