Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [96]
I beckoned Ambrose from the table and whispered to him. “Let us be careful not to displease him after all he has done for us. First, express our gratitude for the food.”
Ambrose threw up his hands. “I know we ought to thank him, but I’ll be damned if I know how. I’m a woodworker, not an orator.”
“Then will you allow me to speak on our behalf?”
Ambrose glanced again at Graham, who nodded once. Griffen Jones, the Welsh farmer, frowned, then shrugged his consent. Though he was of mean status, his opinion was valued by the men.
“Speak, then,” Ambrose said grudgingly. “It may not be proper, you being a woman, but it’s necessary.”
Recalling how John White had treated his Indian visitors, I had Graham place two chairs before the fire. I sat in one and offered Manteo the other. Two of his men flanked him, and Ambrose and Jones stood beside my chair.
“Lord Manteo, we greet you as a faithful ally and welcome you to Fort Ralegh,” I said in English, then added in Algonkian, “Do not take offense, for none was intended. Ambrose Vickers is grateful to have his wife back, and I also thank you for my deliverance and for this food.”
Spoken in a rush, those words left me short of breath. I folded my hands in my lap. The armchair was too big for me and I felt like a child playing at being a queen. The color rose to my cheeks, whether from the nearness of the fire or the excitement of my role I could not say.
“I am pleased to be among you again,” Manteo said.
I could feel his eyes on me. To parley with him, I would have to meet his gaze as a man would. So I looked into his face, which was familiar to me but, after several months, somehow new and remarkable. His nose was straight, his mouth and the bones of his cheeks wide. The tawny hue of his skin pleased me. He was handsome, though not in the manner of Englishmen. His eyes were so dark they were almost black. To my surprise I was not afraid to look into them. No, I even wanted to see behind them, to see within Manteo himself.
I tried to rein in my wandering thoughts and organize some fitting words to speak. What would Elizabeth say to one of her foreign princes to discern his purpose and gain his trust?
First, because I longed to know her fate, I asked after Jane Pierce, and Manteo said she had given birth to a son, whom Tameoc treated as his own. The news made me glad. I could not see how the others reacted, but I spoke on behalf of their better natures.
“We are pleased and hope for greater fellowship between our people,” I said. “Nantioc remains at peace, then?”
Manteo nodded. “With Tameoc’s help I have made an alliance between the people of Nantioc and the Croatoan. Those who followed Wanchese have scattered,” he said, spreading his hands for emphasis.
While murmurs of relief ran through the small assembly, Manteo lowered his voice. “Tell me what has happened here.”
I realized our appearance must be startling. We were thin, hollow-eyed with hunger, and our clothes hung in rags. Vainly I hoped I did not look quite so miserable as the others.
“Our circumstances are worse than when you left us last summer,” I said. “Our food stores were plundered. Ananias Dare has been slain by Indians. And due to sickness there are but two dozen of us remaining.”
“And you, Ladi-cate. Have you suffered too?” The gentle tone of his voice caught me by surprise.
“Not as much as I deserved,” I said, glancing away.
“Your ordeal was not your fault,” he said.
I knew he meant my ordeal of captivity. For months I had wished for an opportunity to show my gratitude to Manteo. Now it had come. “I thank you that I did not become Wanchese’s wife,” I said. The remembrance of that day returned to me: Manteo lying motionless on the ground, covered with blood, then finally stirring to life. My curiosity had to be satisfied, and I asked, “Did you kill him for my sake only? And why did you call me ‘Moon Maiden’?”
Manteo looked down. Perhaps he did not like to be reminded of that day. Then he blushed, if that is possible for one with such tawny