Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [103]
This incident had damaged Graham’s reputation among his new brothers, and he released his humiliation upon us. “Do you not understand what is at stake here?” he demanded. “What would become of us if the Croatoan turned against us?”
We were twelve men, seven women, and six children remaining. No one defended the thieves. Like Graham, we were ashamed of them.
“Anyone who is not satisfied must leave now,” he said. “If you stay only to wreck our relationship with Weyawinga’s people, no mercy will be shown you.”
No one left. No one even stirred as if to leave. By an unspoken agreement, we had cast our lot with the Indians.
Jane and Tameoc now lived on Croatoan Island and she and Mika and I were the closest of friends. Alice was learning the Indians’ healing arts and could identify every edible and medicinal plant on the island. Takiwa had taken a husband and Betty was expecting another baby. Ambrose had built a lathe out of a sapling and rope and spent hours turning out stools and tables and other useful implements. Jones tilled his field and benefitted from the advice of Takiwa’s husband, his neighbor. For the first time in three years, rainfall had been plentiful and we could expect an abundant harvest.
I had my own house in the village. On the outside it resembled a loaf of bread and on the inside, with its poles bent overhead, an arbor. On the walls hung storage baskets I had made myself. I could raise the mats to allow fresh air to flow through, and the bed I shared with Virginia was more soft and warm than any mattress I had ever slept on. Alice and her little son were also part of my household. We cooked our meals outdoors on a common hearth lined with bricks.
Weyawinga had appointed Graham and Jones to her council, and they and Manteo often asked my advice on matters that concerned the general welfare. From time to time I would catch Manteo regarding me with a look of satisfaction that puzzled me. Whenever I was near him, I remembered what it had been like to dance with him and my face would become flushed. I thought of his fingers touching my lips and my insides seemed to melt like wax.
“It is love,” said Jane Pierce, noting my confusion. “I recognize all the signs.”
I knew that Manteo, as the son of a weroance, was like a prince and would no doubt marry a princess from another village to secure an alliance. He was too great for me, just as Sir Walter had been. I denied to Jane that it was love I felt. It was only a kind of weakness that came over me from time to time.
“I respect Manteo. I do not wish to be married to him, for I have decided no man will rule me.” Eleanor and I used to laugh when I said this.
“I would not expect you, of all people, to be ashamed of loving an Indian,” Jane replied, seeming offended.
But shame was not the matter. It was a deeper fear. What I knew of love was that it liked to fill me with longing, then leave me empty.
The day the English ships appeared was one that otherwise followed the peaceful pattern of our new lives. Jane and I were tearing apart pemminaw grass to make a thread as fine as flax, while Jane and Tameoc’s baby slept in a basket. Georgie Howe kicked a ball to entertain Virginia, who was now three years old. I was glad she was growing into such a sturdy child. Even without her parents she was happy. Around midday Tameoc, who had gone out earlier to dig for oysters, ran into the village shouting for Manteo and waving his hands. I heard the words “great canoe.”
Jane’s hand went to her throat. “No, it cannot be,” she whispered.
Leaving Virginia with Georgie, I followed Manteo and the others to the top of a sandy knoll. As we stared at the sea, three vessels took on distinct shapes, resembling the tiny ships that dotted the maps in Sir Walter’s library.
Why did the men not act? I wondered if we should start a brush fire, so the smoke would rise and signal the ships. I glanced at Tameoc, whose