Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [70]
“I am fortunate to be no one’s servant,” I said. “I have no mistress or master, and I will have no husband either, if Roger Bailey is the best Virginia can offer.”
“Don’t worry. No man here will have you for a wife because you are so willful,” said Eleanor, teasing me.
“I have gotten my will. I wanted to come to Virginia,” I mused. “It is certainly not paradise, but if life were like heaven, dying would be a disappointment.”
At this, Eleanor laughed and I did too. We laughed as we had not for months, so consumed with cares had we been. I started to feel light, like the flakes of snow that fell through the air. I might be hungry and thin, but I was still alive. I was not free from care, but my will was free. My place in this new, harsh world was mine to fashion. My dreams, which had lately grown dim, now filled my mind again, like unrecognized shadows that, with the dawn, show their bright, true shapes.
But then I thought of poor Jane Pierce, my companion aboard the Lion. Now pregnant by Roger Bailey, what contentment could she dream of?
Eleanor unlocked her father’s trunk. I laid aside the jumbled maps and sea charts, sketches, journals, and old invoices until I saw a sheaf of papers titled Thomas Harriot’s Vocabulary of the Algonkian Language.
“This is what I was looking for,” I announced. “I will learn to speak Manteo’s language.”
Eleanor merely raised her eyebrows, then turned to watch Virginia, who was learning to creep across the floor.
Harriot’s pages were full of strange markings, and I soon realized he had created a new alphabet for the Indian sounds. Using the key and other notations, I was able to make sense of it. Then I practiced speaking out loud.
Ananias complained about the “savage sounds” I was making. “It’s not proper for a woman to be a scholar,” he said. “Put that away.”
“You do not rule me,” I said lightly. Eleanor laughed, for that phrase had become our joke, and Ananias had the goodwill to smile too.
“Perhaps you should also learn Algonkian,” I said. “Someone besides Manteo should be able to speak to the Indians. He cannot always be at hand to translate.”
Ananias’s good humor dissipated and he stamped out of the house. Eleanor gave me a look of distress.
“He can barely sign his own name,” she said. “Most of the assistants can read and write a little, but they couldn’t begin to study those papers.”
“Well, they can learn the language from Manteo. I dare not. If I so much as nod to Thomas Graham, people think he is my paramour. Can you imagine how the gossips’ tongues would wag if I were to seek out Manteo for conversation?”
“What I can’t imagine is that you, Cate Archer, would let the suspicions of others guide your behavior,” she replied.
I thought for a moment. “You are right, Eleanor. Why should I let others hinder me with their disapproval? It will not keep me from befriending the Croatoan women, which is my purpose in learning their language.” I had not stopped thinking about their plight, which my fellow colonists preferred to ignore. “Mika reminds me of someone I used to know. And Takiwa’s son—perhaps he still needs medicine. I can speak some Algonkian now. I want to go to them.” Restless, I paced back and forth in the narrow room. “Does anyone know where they are living?”
“Ananias thinks they are still at Dasemunkepeuc,” she said reluctantly. “But how will you get there? You’re not thinking of going alone?”
I had a sudden thought. “Thomas Graham! He pledged to help me before.” I grabbed a wool cloak Eleanor and I shared.
“Wait! You propose to go off in the company of a soldier for the purpose of relieving a band of Indians? Have you no care at all for your reputation?” She threw up her hands.
“This is Virginia, not England. A different decorum applies here,” I argued.
“Not in the matter of a woman’s virtue,” she said firmly. “Soldiers are known to be rogues.”
My face was hot, my mouth dry. “As I have no plans to win a husband here, my virtue is no one’s concern but my own. And Thomas Graham is no rogue, but a better