Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [55]
John-white thought for a moment, then said to Weyawinga, “You must take this message to all the peoples of Ossomocomuck: in ten days, we will receive them at Fort Ralegh and assure them of our peaceful intentions. If they accept our friendship, we will forgive the wrongs of the past.”
My mother agreed to this, and I left with the English. John-white was pleased at the success of our visit. But Bay-lee said he did not want all the strange chiefs to come to their island.
The day of the meeting came and passed into night, and none of the weroances of Ossomocomuck came to the fort. Only Weyawinga sent a councilor. It disturbed me that no one else had come. Why did they not show themselves?
“The Indians are not interested in peace,” said Ana-nias the brickmaker. “Indian” was their term for all the native peoples together. “Therefore it is time for war.”
“Let us wait. Our time is not their time,” said John-white.
“While we wait, hoping for peace, they are readying for war,” the brickmaker argued.
Bay-lee said, “Indians cannot be trusted. You heard Weyawinga say they have united against us. We must destroy them.”
I knew the governor did not want a war, but he was not strong enough to prevent one. His councilors wanted to show their strength and repay George-howe’s killing. It was Bay-lee’s plan to attack Dasemunkepeuc, Wingina’s village. He and John-white and I would go with twenty soldiers. So on a moonless night, the silent pinnace crossed the sound. I hoped I could persuade Wanchese to surrender and thus prevent a war. A smoking fire showed us the village. The soldiers attacked just before dawn and the surprised villagers fled into the woods. One warrior turned to fight and Bay-lee shot him. I ran up to him, expecting to see Wanchese.
But the warrior bleeding from his back and gasping for air was not Wanchese. He was one of my kinsmen, a Croatoan.
“Call back your soldiers!” I shouted to John-white.
Then I demanded of the injured warrior, “Have the Croatoan turned against the white men? Are you an ally of Wanchese?”
His eyes rolled up in his head and he was still.
Soon we understood our terrible mistake. Ana-nias captured a warrior named Tameoc, who said that Wanchese and the Roanoke who killed George-howe had left Dasemunkepeuc. Tameoc’s band of Croatoan, fifteen in number, had moved in to gather the corn and pumpkins left in the fields.
“Why did you not recognize your own people sleeping around the fire?” said Tameoc, rebuking me angrily.
My heart was cut with an arrow of grief, but I hid the wound. I would not show weakness before Tameoc or the English. But I said to John-white that we must offer hospitality to Tameoc’s kin if we wanted their forgiveness and friendship.
So after the slain warrior was buried, Tameoc’s band came to Roanoke Island. John-white received them in his house. He gave them bright cloth and vessels of iron and copper. His daughter fed the men from her cooking pot and the women and children sat outside and ate. This pleased them because it was also their custom.
The maiden who had discovered George-howe’s body lived at John-white’s house. I heard the governor call her Ladi-cate. Through the open door I watched her serve the women and children. All were silent, having no common language. Ladi-cate sat among them as they ate. Her eyes never strayed from their faces. Her hair, black as a raven’s wing, shone in the sun. I wondered what it would be like to touch it.
During the feast I praised the fallen warrior to Tameoc, saying John-white regretted his death. I reminded Tameoc these were not the same English who killed Wingina, but they still planned to punish Wanchese for killing one of their own. Tameoc agreed not to become Wanchese’s ally. When the Croatoan left, I was satisfied I had brought peace.
John-white was also pleased. He announced I would be made Lord of Roanoke and Dasemunkepeuc, with authority over all the native people. To be a weroance