Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [54]
Careful not to stir up the water, I took a few steps closer and reached for the stick. That is when I saw, behind the log, the figure of a man. His legs were in the water, the rest of him lying on his back over a rock. His chest was bristling with arrows, and his bloody head had been staved in.
Chapter 21
I, Manteo, Try to Keep the Peace
I heard the woman’s voice, faint and far away. I thought of Ahsoo, the maiden who sang so beautifully that the river became alive with leaping fish. They labored so hard to reach the music, even swimming against the stream, that many died on the journey.
I ran toward the sound, leaping like one of those fish. The woman was not singing but screaming. I readied my bow.
An English maiden with dark hair stood in the stream. She held a fish spear like a weapon. Her eyes were wide with terror. When she saw me she lowered the spear, but the fear did not leave her eyes. I recognized her as the maid who had fallen into me on the ship, the one who had served the English weroance. And I saw the dead man in the water.
“Are you hurt?” I asked. She shook her head. Seeing her tremble, I wanted to touch her, to reassure her. But I only said, “You are safe now.”
The soldiers were just behind me. The one named Grem picked up the maiden and carried her until she could walk by herself. They also took the body back to the fort.
The dead man was George-howe, one of John-white’s councilors. His head was beaten in with a club. Sixteen arrows stuck in his chest. I recognized the bone points and feathering on the arrows.
“This is the work of Wingina’s warriors,” I said to John-white.
“A year later, and they seek revenge?”
I nodded. Did he think the Roanoke would forget the killing of their weroance?
I let the English see my anger at George-howe’s killing, so they would know I was blameless. Instead they blamed John-white, because he had told them the native peoples were friendly. They looked at him with one question in their eyes: Can you keep us safe?
It was my idea to ask Weyawinga what she knew about the fifteen lost men and the killing of George-howe. So I guided John-white and twenty men to Croatoan, a two-day trip by boat. My breast was filled with gladness to be returning home. The English would see how my kin would welcome me. My people would see that John-white and his men respected me. Look how far they have come to understand our ways and live among us, I would say. And my people would be proud to be allies with the English and receive their powerful gifts.
But as the shallop came near the shore, war cries rolled toward us on the wind.
“We are betrayed! It is Manteo’s doing,” Bay-lee shouted. The men fired their muskets in alarm, and John-white shouted for them to stop.
I stood in the bow of the shallop and called to my kinsmen, “It is I, Manteo! We come in peace.” I leapt into the water, putting myself before the muskets. My grief was great that they distrusted me.
But the English lowered their weapons. Hearing my voice, my kinsmen came out from their hiding places and welcomed me with smiles and embraces. When all the men had come ashore, they led us to the village.
Weyawinga, my mother, greeted me as a fellow weroance, then embraced me as her son. Yet I could see that my English clothes dismayed her, so I removed my shoes and put on a deerskin.
“We must feed the English with great ceremony, to gain their trust,” I said to her.
A feast of squashes and nuts and venison was prepared. We smoked uppowoc until the men were content.
I translated between the tongues as John-white asked Weyawinga about the missing soldiers. She said they had been attacked by warriors from Dasemunkepeuc and Secotan.
“Are you certain?” John-white asked. “They are not allies of one another. And the Secotan chief and his wife received us warmly and allowed me to draw them and their village.”
There was no mistake, my mother insisted. “The peoples who once fought each other conceived