Chapter 1
"Land ho!" was the reverberating cry that brought Thomas out of his daydream.
Land? Already? It had seemed like yesterday when he had left London. He smiled when he remembered his sister and her family waving farewell to him the first time he had left London. But this time no one from his family had said farewell to him. He had no one now.
He took a deep sigh. It was better to just bury that memory, soon he would be in the presence of Chief Powhatan.
It had been two years since he had last been here and he had changed a great deal in those two years. He wasn't that naïve, inexperienced boy anymore. He had grown-up and he knew the ways of the world.
And now he knew how to aim a gun.
But that wasn't going to help here. A gun is what had gotten him into this mess. He had killed someone! He had taken their life! And now, two years later, he was back to hopefully make everything right. That is if the Indians didn't run him off their land first.
"Thomas?" A fellow crewman walked up to him and asked, "Captain wants to know if you are ready to go ashore."
Thomas nodded. "Yes, I'll be along shortly. I just need to gather up some of my things."
"Of course." And the man left to rely his message to the Captain.
He went below deck to the hammock he had been sleeping in for the past several months. He wouldn't be missing that. The hammock would swing every time the ship would go over a wave and the walls and ceiling would leak. Dry land would be a comfort.
But that all depended if the Indians accepted him and let him live among them. Or they would run him off and he would be on his own in this unknown land.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Thomas?" asked the captain as he watched him climb out of the boat and onto the sandy shore
"I'm sure," he replied back. This was something he had to do.
There was no turning back now.
"Alright then. We will be back within a months time. If you are ready to go you may return with us. If not, then you are on your own. There may not be another ship coming here for a year, maybe even two."
"I understand, Captain."
"Good," the captain smiled. "Now watch out for those savages. I don't want to find out you got a knife in the back."
Thomas grimaced at the image. "Don't worry I'll be keeping a good lookout."
The captain clamped a hand on his shoulder. "I hate to see you go, Thomas. It was nice to know a man with experience in these waters."
Thomas wanted to laugh. Only two years had passed since he was last on a ship and he had known nothing of where he was going and what he was going to do.
"I'm going to miss sailing the open sea." Now that was a lie.
"Well, farewell, Thomas. I hope to see you in a month's time…alive."
Thomas gulped. "Me, too."
Thomas looked into the dense bunch of trees in front of him. He slung his pack over his shoulder. All the possessions he had brought were in there. Two changes of clothes, writing supplies, a hunting knife, and his compass and he didn't want to lose any of it.
It seemed like hours since he had started walking, and now he finally came to the dilapidated remains of the fort. Now he knew where he was and now it was only a short walk to the Indian village.
In his head he was mentally began putting the beginnings of the speech he planned to tell the chief. But nothing seemed to fit and he was just short of deciding that he was going to go on his hands and knees and beg his forgiveness.
"Thomas, you're a dead man," he muttered to himself.
He broke free of a line of bushes and froze.
He looked ahead of him. There it was. There was the Indian village. he took one last breath and then proceeded forward.
Thomas remained looking forward and tried to notice how all the Indians stopped everything and stared at him. Even the little babies strapped on their mother's backs and looked at him.
He guess they had never seen a white man in their short lives.
He looked up and saw he was nearing the chief's tent. Good. He was waiting for one of the curious glances to turn hostile. He wanted to at least speak with the Chief before any incidents happen.
He was nearing the tent. What should he do when he got there? Should he…um knock? Or should he shout his welcome.
He sighed in relief when he didn't have to do either. The chief stepped out of his tent, no doubt already informed of his arrival.
He looked down at Thomas and…smiled? Odd. He wasn't expecting that.
"Wingapo, Thomas," he said in greeting. "I see you have returned."
Thomas bowed. "Yes, Chief Powhatan, I have. And I wish to speak with you privately, if you have time."
Of course, Thomas. Come in." He held the tent flap open and waited until Thomas walked in. He followed after.
"Here, Thomas, have a seat." The Chief motioned to a thick deerskin blanket that was set on the floor.
Thomas sat and the chief followed and sat across from him.
"Now, what is it you wished to speak with me about?"
Thomas sighed, then took a breath "Chief, I wish to seek your forgiveness."
The Chief's face grew puzzled. "Forgiveness? For what? You have done nothing wrong."
"Do you not remember the horrible deed that I did two years ago? When I killed one of your close warriors? I know this is two years late, but I wish for your forgiveness."
"My son," he placed a hand on his shoulder. "You were forgiven for that a long time ago."
Now it was time for Thomas to be confused. "But, why? I don't deserve it."
"Everyone deserves forgiveness, Thomas, even you. We are a forgiving people and understand the turmoil you must have gone through."
Thomas smiled thankfully. "You do not know how much of the burden that has been lifted off my shoulders by hearing say those words."
"I am glad you have been relieved of that burden." He stood up and Thomas followed. "Now come so I may give you a proper welcome among my people."
"There is no need of that, Chief."
The Chief smiled at him. "Nonsense, Thomas, you shall be my honored guests and you will be treated as such."
They walked out into the evening air.
Thomas walked along side Chief Powhatan. "Do you think the village will welcome me? Have they all forgiven me?"
Just then a beautiful young Indian woman ran up to the chief. She looked familiar.
"Wingapo, Nakoma."
Nakoma? Thomas started. He remembered her when he was last here. She had been Pocahontas best friend and she had plagued his dreams for the last two years. He had longed to see her again and here she was even more beautiful than he remembered.
"Chief Powhatan," she said talking excitedly. "I heard a white man has visited us. Does he bring news of Pocahontas?"
Then she seemed to notice him. recognition flashed across her face, then anger.
"You?" She spat. "What are you doing here?"
Thomas winced. The chief was wrong. Not everyone would welcome him.
