The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book I
Chapter 14: Something Wicked
John Rolfe immediately yanked his Powhatan lady friend behind him. "Stay away from her, you would-be murderess! I saw what you did during that storm!" the Englishman howled at Nicole in French. Meeko and Percy both growled at the blonde as they stood between her and their human friends. Flit chirped angrily at Nicole.
Siwili gasped and leapt between them, afraid John Rolfe or the animals would attack the girl. "Supé soala cosa to ra dota? Keta! Djahn?" he cried, more confused now than ever.
John Rolfe straightened himself up before his friend. "Not to worry, Siwili. I shan't attack a female. But that doesn't mean I have to like her," he spat, shooting Nicole a dirty look.
"John, she doesn't look like she's in any condition to threaten anyone right now," the Powhatan princess pointed out, peering worriedly over the Englishman's shoulder. She was a little surprised herself at how visceral John Rolfe's anger was. While she was not happy about Nicole's presence either, there was some satisfaction to seeing her in a humbled state. Internally, Pocahontas hoped the girl might have changed for the better after witnessing the horrific disaster resulting from her own nefarious actions.
The two villagers helping Nicole stepped back, stunned by the white man's reaction to a member of his own kind. They tried to avoid confrontation by turning to bring Nicole into the remedial hut but John Rolfe jumped in the way to stop them. "Wait, wait!" he exclaimed, holding up two hands. "I don't want us to stay in the same house as her. Let me get our things out first." He glanced down at the pug. "Percy, you're on guard dog duty. If she tries anything, turn her legs into mincemeat!" Percy yipped in agreement and continued growling at Nicole. Rolfe glared at her. "I shan't let my guard down around you again, mademoiselle," he snapped in French. "So stay out of our way."
John Rolfe entered the hut and emerged twenty seconds later with Pocahontas's folded pants, boot, and machete. His pockets, he had stuffed with his own possessions. Just then the vainglorious girl passed out from low blood sugar. She slumped, thus forcing the warrior at her side to pick her up and carry her bridal-style. The woman with him looked worried. Rolfe moved to the side and waved for them to bring Nicole inside, which they did. He snorted. "Good riddance," Rolfe grumbled as Siwili took him by the arm.
The warrior beckoned Pocahontas to follow. He led them to his own hut by the riverbank. Awenasa and Aquela were inside sewing by the fire. The latter looked up when they arrived. "Djahn! Pocahontas!" the girl greeted. Siwili pointed to a five-foot-high shelf for them to put their things, indicating they would be staying with his family. Meeko found a basket on the top shelf and curled up inside it for a nap, Flit nesting atop him.
John Rolfe put their belongings where indicated and waved to Aquela as Siwili began explaining what had just transpired to his wife. Awenasa glanced at Rolfe and Pocahontas with a cocked brow, looking just as confused as Siwili had been. The diplomat frowned and turned to Pocahontas. "It's really a pity we can't communicate fully with these people. I feel like I owe them an explanation for my behavior," he lamented. Once they finished talking, Awenasa got up and followed Siwili right out of the hut. Rolfe guessed that she wanted to see the disliked white girl for herself. He plopped down cross-legged by Aquela and sighed, resting his hands on his spread knees. The little girl reached over and patted him on the bicep, which humored the Englishman ever so slightly.
"Are you alright, John?" Pocahontas inquired.
John Rolfe glanced at Pocahontas as she took a seat next to him. "Yes, but we need to talk. I'm not sure if this changes things but, regardless, I do not intend to repeat my past mistake. I will not let my guard down around Nicole and I ask you to do the same."
Pocahontas nodded. "We'll see how things turn out once she recovers. Maybe she has changed, maybe not. Either way, I think it is wise to just stay away from her entirely."
"Why do you think she might have changed?" John Rolfe inquired, not having considered the possibility. The girl seemed too far gone to him, having literally attempted murder.
"Well consider the pitiful state she's in right now. She got that way because of the choices she made. Maybe she'll see the error in her ways," Pocahontas surmised with a shrug.
John Rolfe leaned forward and rubbed his face with his hands, nodding. "Fair enough."
Meanwhile, Pocahontas gazed into the fire. After a five minute silence, she rose to her feet. "I need some time alone to think. I'm going to go take a walk by the waterfalls."
"Alright, love, but please humor me and take Percy with you," he replied, unmoving.
Percy perked up and yipped, proud to be placed in an important guard dog position again. Pocahontas smiled at the pug. "Okay, I will. Come, Percy," she beckoned, walking out.
Pocahontas paced by the river, feeling the wind in her hair and trying to listen to its wild call. Percy plodded after her, watchful of their surroundings. Once they reached the falls, Pocahontas found a flat pebble and skipped it across the river. She sat on her knees in the soft grass, recalling the many lessons Grandmother Willow had taught her over the years.
The most important one had always been to listen to her heart. When in tune with her own spirit, she could understand and feel all kinds of things beyond her physical form—a euphoric experience. It was an art form she had practiced much after John Smith's return to England. But once news of his supposed death had arrived over a year later, she hit a brick wall. She suffered that way for years. Any tiny noise or sensation would distract her, a problem which only went away after she discovered the truth about Smith's disappearance. She was disappointed in herself that she had somehow let her grief turn her blind, mute, and deaf to the spiritual guidance around her for so long.
Pocahontas's confusion was of both a mental and spiritual nature and it troubled her even now. She had experienced one major breakthrough in the English forest at dawn after John Rolfe and John Smith had rescued her from the dreadful tower. It had come at a critical moment. If it had been delayed even a few minutes longer, the fate of her people would have been sealed. It had also been the same situation with her dream of John Smith's compass years earlier. One second too late would have meant the death of John Smith and a brutal war between her people and the settlers she would have been caught right in the middle of. Why did the spirits wait until the last second to tell her something important? Or, alternatively, was it Pocahontas who failed to listen until such time?
Pocahontas had used her shamanic gift to learn basic English many years ago. But she still had to study and ask people questions to broaden her vocabulary and learn reading and writing. She had tried to use her gift to learn French but two factors prevented her from doing so successfully. Number one, she sensed she would be persecuted on the ship if she revealed her ability. As it turned out, she had been persecuted anyway. Secondly, the infernal noises and distractions kept plaguing her and preventing her from understanding. She could have just kept her knowledge of the foreign language quiet, only listening and never speaking. But no matter how she tried to listen with her heart, the mental confusion and little distractions had prevented her from succeeding.
Now, Pocahontas was having the same problem with the people that they were staying with. She wanted to be able to communicate more complex ideas. Before Nicole's arrival, Pocahontas had not thought it necessary. There was nothing critical that needed translating then. But now, new fears had arisen within her. Nicole had proven herself conniving and dangerous on the ship, not to mention hateful of people different than herself. Once she recovered, would she try to hurt any of the locals? What Pocahontas wanted most of all was not to explain John Rolfe's anger, which had so perplexed and troubled Siwili and the others, but to warn them of what Nicole was really like. They had to know to be careful and to refrain from fully trusting the young blonde.
The wind whistled loudly in Pocahontas's ear, yet she could still make no sense of it. She thought the effort she was putting into holding herself upright was distracting her, so she sat cross-legged and then rolled onto her back and stretched out her legs. She went limp, sinking her full weight into the warm earth. Percy whimpered, sensing her unrest. "Shh. It is alright, Percy. I'm just trying to listen to the spirits," she murmured, calming his fears.
The harder she tried to listen, the greater her frustration grew. At last, resigned to failure, Pocahontas allowed herself to relax and fall into a sleep-like trance. She thought she heard two birds squabbling over the route of their migration. The river water trickled a tale of its anticipation to flow out to sea. The grass spoke of its love for the sun's rays in a languorous romantic tone. And then came a sudden gust of wind. Its crystal-clear voice whispered in Pocahontas's ear: Something wicked comes… Beware, beware.
Pocahontas sat bolt upright, her heart pounding in her ears. Her eyes darted around all over the place, scanning her surroundings for danger. Percy jumped in alarm at her sudden arousal and yipped. The Powhatan princess hopped to her feet and scrutinized her environment further, her eyes fearful. Percy sniffed the air, looked around, and—sensing nothing—whimpered in confusion at her odd behavior. Hoping for more information, Pocahontas closed her eyes and tried to listen to the wind again, to no avail. She heaved a sigh of frustration and peered down at Percy. "It was a warning. I don't know what about. It told me that something is coming," she indicated. "Something… wicked."
…
Awenasa had returned to the hut and was once again engaged in a sewing session with her young daughter by the time Pocahontas and Percy returned, not that either of them noticed her presence. John Rolfe was preoccupied carving a tiny figurine with a piece of wood and a stone knife when he noticed their arrival. "Welcome back, love," he greeted, smiling up at Pocahontas. With his knife, he chucked a strip of wood into the fire.
"Hey," she uttered. The Powhatan woman rubbed her face, not looking at him once as she blurted her reply. She went to the shelf and retrieved her belongings, putting on the pants and hooking her machete to her belt as she had before they had arrived in the village.
John Rolfe's eyes widened in alarm at her distracted comportment and he dropped what he was doing. "Is something wrong, Pocahontas? Does this have something to do with Nicole?" he interrogated, casting a glance at a downtrodden Percy. The pug lay down by the fire, making no more eye contact than Pocahontas had. Rolfe knitted his brows in concern. "What's happened? What's the matter with you two?" he asked, rising.
Both Awenasa and Aquela peered up from their work when the Englishman approached Pocahontas and turned her to look at him. His touch snapped her out of her trance and she shook her head. "No, John. This has nothing to do with Nicole," she replied, hoping he would not pry any further. Pocahontas did not know how to begin to explain what the problem was. She peered at Awenasa and her daughter, both of whom looked concerned.
"Come outside with me," John Rolfe spoke. He left through the open door, beckoning.
Pocahontas sighed and followed him. She realized he should know of the warning. But how could she explain where it had come from? She still feared he was not ready to know about the spirit world yet—or perhaps it was she who was not ready to tell. But why not?
They walked to the riverbank and John Rolfe addressed Pocahontas. "What's going on?"
Pocahontas found herself staring into his eyes, her mouth hanging open as she tried to form the words in her brain first. Nothing came and her silence only alarmed him further.
"Pocahontas, what is it?!" John Rolfe demanded. He shook her gently.
Pocahontas bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her brow with the palm of her hand. "It's… um, I just get the feeling that something bad is going to happen."
John Rolfe paused, frowning. "What do you mean? When?"
"I don't know."
John Rolfe looked perplexed. He scratched his head and peered at the ground. "You're sure this has nothing to do with Nicole?" he began, meeting her eyes. "What if…?"
"Yes, I'm sure," Pocahontas hurriedly countered, starting to feel agitated again. She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, closing her eyes. "I just… get a feeling. A really bad feeling and I'm afraid of what will happen. Promise me you'll keep your eyes out for trouble, John," she pleaded, meeting his gaze. A movement in her peripheral vision indicated that Percy had followed them outside and was listening in.
Still, John Rolfe was not satisfied. "But what makes you feel this way?"
Gazing into his eyes, Pocahontas thought for a moment he might handle the information just fine. He had been so accepting of so many things foreign to him before, unlike just about every other white-skinned person she had met to date. But how could she explain such things to him? "It's…" she began just before fears clouded her thoughts again. Would he think she was joking? Would he think her crazy? Or might he believe Nicole's claim that she was a witch after all? "I… I don't know," she said weakly.
John Rolfe paused a moment before his facial features morphed into a look of suspicion. He knitted his brows at Pocahontas, sending a spike of fear through her heart. "You don't know or you won't tell?" he replied in a frank tone, placing his hands on his hips.
Pocahontas flinched, again reminded of John Rolfe's perceptive nature. He might develop the ability to communicate with spirits himself if only he believed in them, she thought. He had not failed to notice her flinch and his eyes told her as much. "I…"
"Why won't you tell me?"
Pocahontas fell silent again as she wracked her brain for an acceptable response. She could not gauge John Rolfe's mood just from looking at his face, which troubled her greatly. Whether he was angry, hurt, confused, or feeling any other emotion, she could not be sure. After considering many different false explanations, Pocahontas finally decided to settle on the truth. "I'm… well. Listen, John. The truth is that it's something I'm not sure you're ready to know about yet. Please don't ask anymore."
A look of puzzlement overtook him. "Not ready to know? What do you mean? I…"
"I will tell you someday, I swear it," Pocahontas assured him.
John Rolfe hesitated, his demeanor worrying Pocahontas. Finally, he sighed and pulled her to him with a gentle expression. "Oh, come on, love. You can trust me," he reassured her, wrapping her arms around his waist. "What could I possibly not be ready to know? I am an adult after all," he pointed out, hoping to convince her to open up on the matter.
Pocahontas quickly drew away from him, not meeting his eye. She hugged her chest. "Please just respect I must remain silent for now," she bit out, holding her breath in expectation of an angry response. Perhaps her distrust alone would prove the breaking point for them. She was begging for him to have faith in her but how could she possibly expect such a thing from him if she could not return it? It was not fair to him.
John Rolfe frowned, feeling hurt by her withdrawal. He pulled his brows together and placed his hands on his hips again. "Very well, Pocahontas. But you can expect I will revisit this topic on the very first day of spring," he warned before shaking a finger at her.
Pocahontas was more surprised than anything. John Rolfe did not appear angry but his behavior did indicate a stern attitude on the matter. He would not let it go forever. "That sounds fair," Pocahontas conceded, relaxing a bit. She met his gaze and returned a small smile. "I love you, John. Anyway, I'm going to go help the women with the harvest."
John Rolfe remained silent but pensive as she left. Once she was twenty paces from him, he called to her with a final thought, "I hope this is not a matter that you fear losing my love over! I love you more than anything and you shouldn't fear something like that."
In John Rolfe's mind, his desire to know her secret was tied less to his own thirst for knowledge than to his concern for her mental wellbeing. She was the most important person in his life and he saw clearly that the mysterious topic troubled her deeply. He felt helpless to protect and comfort her while he remained ignorant. But, against all odds, the Englishman did trust Pocahontas enough to drop the subject as requested.
Pocahontas, not knowing how to respond, shook her head and kept going. She suspected truth in what he had said but she hoped it was not so. Did she really fear to lose his love?
When Pocahontas was gone, John Rolfe turned to Percy as he stood by whimpering a little bit. Rolfe frowned at the dog. "Not ready to know, huh? You don't suppose she thinks me child-like? I'm a grown man!" he insisted to the pug. The diplomat entered a pensive state as he tapped a finger on his bottom lip. "I mean... how bad could it possibly be?" Percy could only shrug, so the Englishman sighed and left to find Siwili.
…
OCTOBER 18, 1613
Over the next two days, John Rolfe, Pocahontas, Meeko, Percy, and Flit accompanied Siwili and Awenasa on morning trips into the forest to check on animal traps and gather wild vegetables and other useful items for the village. Pocahontas took the opportunity to stretch her healed ankle and go on light runs through the pine trails during these trips to restrengthen it. The English diplomat, on the other hand, was more focused on the layout of the land. He paid particular attention to their surroundings during these outings as he made a mental map of the landscape around them for later usage.
One particular location that had earned John Rolfe's interest was an enormous beautiful lake several miles north of the village. It was always teeming with fish and game. The Englishman was thrilled when he managed to catch a big but fast turtle with his bare hands as he waded through the shallow water. Pocahontas had witnessed the act firsthand and enthusiastically applauded him for it. Rolfe brought it to show Siwili and Awenasa, both of whom deemed it good enough to bring back to the village for stew.
Pocahontas and John Rolfe grew more familiar with the miles of forest surrounding the isolated village. In the afternoons, Siwili and Rolfe would work on the dugout canoe—or Siwili would start teaching the diplomat a new skill when he felt inclined. At these times, Pocahontas followed the other women to the cornfields to gather maize for the harvest.
On one such afternoon, Siwili was showing John Rolfe how to make a bow drill to start a fire when both heard a loud whisper coming from behind them. "Psst! Psst, John!"
John Rolfe looked up in surprise and glanced over his shoulder to find Nicole cowering behind a tree. Clad in a buckskin dress and with her blonde hair brushed out, she was trying to get his attention without being noticed by the locals. While the girl was clean and less emaciated than before, she still had yet to regain her normal healthy figure. Rolfe clenched his teeth at the sight of her and shot her a death glare, turning his attention back to tying some cordage to the end of his bow. Siwili watched the very tense encounter with a raised brow. When he saw the diplomat ignore her and get back to work, he shrugged and turned his attention back to what they were doing as well, forgetting Nicole.
"Please, you're the only one who speaks a civilized tongue. These people don't understand a word I say!" Nicole pled, tiptoeing from behind the tree. John Rolfe felt a spike of anger at her insulting language. Ultimately, he decided to go on ignoring her, worried she would find it encouraging if he gave her even one iota of attention.
John Rolfe felt the warrior tap him on the shoulder once he had finished securing the cord. "Ogu sile yetowiza. Hugué passot sulemon hilelelo," Siwili said, pointing to the nearby fire pit. He collected Rolfe's bow, a dry twig from the woodpile, another indented twig, some crushed up autumn leaves, and a rock with a depression in it. With these items, he began to demonstrate the fire starting technique. Rolfe stood over him watching in fascination as the kindling began to smoke. All of a sudden, a group of cheerful women and children passed by and spotted Nicole. Chattering excitedly, they came over to exchange greetings with her as she had finally emerged from the remedial hut.
"No, no! Go away! Leave me alone!" Nicole hollered, unnerved by their approach. She ran up behind John Rolfe and spun him around to face them as she hid behind his back.
John Rolfe was enraged that Nicole would dare use him as a human shield, let alone interrupt his engrossed learning session. He jerked away from her. "Don't touch me!" he snapped at her in French, moving to the other side of the fire pit to continue watching. Unfortunately, the kindling had already burst into flame by then and Rolfe had missed it. He growled in irritation. The women and children halted, looking at Nicole with confusion written all over their faces. The diplomat did not fail to notice their dejection. "These people saved your life. The least you can do is be nice to them," he immediately chided her, squatting down to warm his hands by the little orange fire.
"How are we going to get out of here?" Nicole muttered, retreating to her tree to hide behind it instead. She waved the group off, brandishing a fist. "Shoo! Go on!"
John Rolfe narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean 'we'? I'm not going anywhere with you!" he countered, taking his bow back and making a pile of crushed leaves as Siwili had shown him. He took the twigs and practiced the fire starting technique, wrapping the bowstring around the stick. Rolfe began vigorously thrusting the bow back and forth as he held the twig in place sticking out of the tinder. It was harder than it looked.
Nicole scowled. "You know what I mean! How long have they been keeping you here? Have you tried to escape?" she further interrogated, peering around fearfully.
John Rolfe felt affronted at the suggestion. "I'm not a prisoner, you moron! They brought me here to heal from the concussion you gave me with a wine bottle. Do you have any idea how much pain you caused me? Do you even care? Well, forget it! You can try to attack me all you want but if you ever again come within fifty feet of Pocahontas, I will hurt you. Let chivalry be damned!" he warned, furiously drilling his bow back and forth all the while. The fire burst to life with an audible pop. He jolted in alarm and fell back on his rear, dropping the bow as he peered at the newborn flames in wonderment. "Land sakes, that works well," he murmured to himself. Siwili patted his shoulder and smiled.
Nicole's face flushed. "Wh-what? I don't know what you're talking about…" she stuttered out, wringing her hands behind the tree. Her eyes wandered tellingly.
John Rolfe jumped up and stomped a foot on the ground. "Liar! When my memories started coming back, I put the clues together and they all pointed to you. I also remember you pushing Pocahontas off the side of the ship, an observation she later confirmed. So if you think you're ever getting back within my good graces again, you're sadly mistaken. Now, bugger off!" he ordained, pointing her toward the remedial hut.
Nicole looked hurt at John Rolfe's dismissal, not that he noticed or cared. He got back to the task at hand, combining the two fires and then adding some wood to the flames with Siwili's help. Awenasa came over carrying a wide dish of deliciously seasoned raw fish for the evening's festivities, taking over the fire that the men had started. Rolfe and Siwili sat aside and watched the latter's wife cook. Meanwhile, Nicole stood there watching Rolfe in silence. Finally, she bowed her head. "I'm sorry," she murmured. When Rolfe refused to acknowledge her apology, she trudged off without another word.
…
Adahy lay in the grass, face and muscles contorted in acute agony. Kelele sat by him and whimpered, a dead rattlesnake hanging from the animal's chops. For weeks, he had sought the beached ship in the wake of the storm demon's wrath. All he found had been washed up barrels and crates, the ship itself nowhere in sight. He had nearly lost hope until he came upon a familiar set of animal footprints in the sand. Adahy identified them as belonging to a small dog and raccoon matching the descriptions of the ones he had seen with the fugitives. The scent trail was cold but Adahy followed the prints themselves into the forest until he eventually came upon a meadow of grasses and wildflowers.
The grasses were where he had met with disaster. A lightning-fast rattlesnake had nailed him in the knee with its fangs. He had sliced the skin between the two punctures and sucked out most of the venom but there was still enough neurotoxin to keep him in great pain until it cleared his system. With detoxing in mind, Adahy had drunk the rest of the water supply he had brought with him. Yet the pain remained hours later still at an unbearable level. By early evening, it started to worsen. Adahy finally passed out cold.
It was sunset when Adahy's eyes opened to familiar smirking faces standing over him. Kelele growled as Spike-Eyes pinned him down and held his jaws shut. The dog's instincts to protect his master were an inconvenience to the vengeful crew. "Methinks, mates, that we've found ourselves the savage traitor responsible for the disappearance of our men," Flame surmised, holding the tip of his sword to Adahy's jugular. "Tell me, barbarian. How many of our crew did you kill?" he interrogated with a gleam in his eye.
A man to Flame's right gasped and pointed a shaky finger at Adahy. "The Injun's hand! Blimey, it's grown back!" he decried, conjuring a storm of disbelief among the pirates. Even Flame was taken aback at the sight of the extremity, stepping back in awe.
"Do you suppose he made a deal with the devil?"
"It's black magic!"
"Witchcraft, it be!"
"How did you do it? Tell us, savage!"
"It can't be real! Poke it with a stick."
Once Flame got over his shock, he ushered the men back and set the tip of his sword to Adahy's jugular again. "Not to worry, men. We'll have our explanations, mark my words. The savage will talk if he values his life and, shall I say, remaining limbs," he declared, his lips upturned in an ominous smirk. The men snickered amongst themselves. Kelele started to growl again, though he was unable to escape Spike-Eyes's grasp.
Adahy gritted his teeth. The prospect of even more pain did not appeal to him but he was no coward. He had been trained since childhood in Copichican methods of withstanding the cruelest of tortures. The only thing he truly feared for was his soul and the demon blade knew it. Reveal me and I will strike you down in an instant, it whispered in his ear.
The former warrior shook his head back and forth. I will not betray you, he whispered back. But how shall I prevent them from killing me? I beg your guidance, o Exalted One.
"What's that, my friend?" Captain Flame spoke. "You don't value your life and limbs? I've no need to give you a peaceable death then, do I?" the Irishman warned, pressing the sword to the skin of Adahy's neck. A single drop of blood appeared on the spot.
Be useful, the blade advised.
A thought popped to mind and Adahy's eyes rose, making contact with Flame's. "Are you still after the paleface and his woman? I was tracking them before I was struck by the snake," he painfully bit out, his jaw stiff from the lingering effects of the neurotoxin.
The pirates froze. Flame's eyes popped open but he shook his head. "Impossible! The fop stole our ship. How could you be tracking them when you've no means to sail?"
Adahy glanced at a felled tree nearby. "Have you not noticed the effects of the storm? Cargo washed up on the beach. The paleface's pets were washed overboard, I found their prints. He will not leave the beasts to their fates. He has to be on land looking for them."
Flame hesitated, his half-disfigured face full of suspicion. "Why did you kill our men?" he charged, narrowing his eyes. "We found their remains on the beach weeks back."
The blade whispered, Blame it on the devil. We shall await a prime opportunity to escape.
Adahy held up his regenerated limb. "I needed sacrifices. In my weakness, I called upon the devil for help. I could not live without any hands at all," he falsely explained. "I am sorry for taking your men but there were no others to be found and I was desperate."
The crew all stared at Adahy in shock and then exchanged glances with each other. "I knew it!" Spike-Eyes boisterously proclaimed. "I knew he done business with the devil!"
"Don't you know it's a bad idea to make deals with Satan, Injun?" Flame chided.
"What choice did I have?" Adahy countered. "My hands were gone. I was helpless."
The men whispered among themselves and Flame turned back to Adahy. "Fair enough, lad. You've convinced me. I shan't forgive your treachery and allow you to rejoin me crew but I shall spare your life for now. If you track the fugitives for us, I will even give my solemn oath you'll be released after they are caught," he vowed, placing a hand over his heart. He sheathed his sword and offered Adahy a hand. "Have we a deal then?"
Hesitantly, Adahy accepted the hand with his own regrown extremity. Flame yanked him to his feet. "Yes, Captain Flame," Adahy replied with a nod. "We have a deal."
Flame turned and pulled out his sword, chopping his way through the thickets. "Tie him up, men. We make camp just over yonder tonight. Our tracker needs more time to recover from his wound and we need to get some shuteye 'fore the dawn strikes tomorrow."
…
OCTOBER 19, 1613
The next morning, Siwili wanted to show John Rolfe the basics of animal tracking. They left the village in a canoe at dawn and went southeast on the river. It was midmorning when they arrived at their location. Rolfe was surprised to discover they were back near the same stretch of tributary where they had first encountered each other.
The brave placed a finger over his mouth to warn John Rolfe to be quiet as they crept through the brush. The Englishman watched his step to make as little noise as possible, copying everything Siwili did. Fortunately, the sound of rushing water helped to cover up his errors. The hunter pointed to a broken vine lying over a protruding root. He pulled some brown fibers off it and showed them to Rolfe. "Pozito," he said. Rolfe had learned from the village children that 'pozito' was the local word that meant deer.
John Rolfe nodded. "Pozito," he repeated in a low voice. He put his hands on the sides of his head and splayed his fingers to indicate antlers. "Pozito. Big buck?" he uttered.
"Siba, alkuné pozito," Siwili indicated, widening his arms to illustrate a large size.
"Alkuné pozito," John Rolfe repeated as Siwili turned and followed the animal's trail through some autumnal brush. The Englishman was delighted to find that he was catching onto the local tongue much faster than he had the Powhatan that Pocahontas had attempted to teach him and it was all because of the immersive environment in the village. Perhaps, Rolfe thought, he simply needed to spend time among the Powhatan people themselves and he would learn their language much more easily. His memory had proven completely pitiful with Pocahontas's vocabulary drills in comparison.
Siwili and John Rolfe emerged on the other side of a thicket. A noisy stream flowing west to east masked their noises. Rolfe followed Siwili through a shallow area to the other side. On the muddy shores, the diplomat spotted a large cloven hoof print. He pointed to it, getting excited as he doubted he had ever seen such a large deer before.
They followed the trail for miles, Siwili stopping sometimes to point out yet another indication the animal had come through the area. The hunter tried to explain each sign to the best of his ability using miming and body language. John Rolfe had gotten the impression that this trip was more of a learning excursion anyway more so than a serious hunt. Even if they came home with nothing, he figured that the day would be a success.
They stood on a wooded hillock when the animal finally came into view, grazing quietly in a picturesque grassy clearing. It was a majestic beast from what John Rolfe could see. Expansive white antlers adorned its regal head, an extremity supported by a thickly muscled neck and enormous broad chest. It was a sight to behold. Both Rolfe and Siwili crouched low to the ground and stared in awe at the buck for a few minutes. Finally, Siwili turned his attention to Rolfe. Without making a sound, he waved his hand to indicate the direction of the wind and mimed a sniffing action. He pointed south to indicate he would move downwind of the animal and target it from there with his bow. The hunter motioned for Rolfe to stay put and keep watch because this spot was the best vantage point to witness the creature's demise. Rolfe nodded, his heart racing slightly.
Siwili eyed the animal again and moved down the hillock in the opposite direction, using the raised terrain for cover. He circled around southward and fell out of John Rolfe's line of sight. Meanwhile, the diplomat watched and waited. It seemed to take forever. Rolfe eventually ran out of patience and slowly crept up the low split trunk of a tree to see if he could spot Siwili somewhere to the south. The grazing animal was facing away from him, so he figured he was in no danger of frightening it with his visible presence.
John Rolfe scanned the forest with his eyes. It took a couple minutes but he eventually spotted Siwili positioning himself in a tree. A few moments later the hunter was in place and took aim with his bow. Rolfe gazed back toward the buck and held his breath.
KA-BOOM!
A deafening gunshot split the air, making Rolfe nearly jump out of his trousers in fright. The great buck leapt into action, taking off through the forest like a bird on the wing. In milliseconds, the animal had vanished. "You missed, ye fool! That there beast could'a been our lunch!" a sinister voice shouted through the trees. "I'm bloody starvin'!"
The sounds of a physical fight and angry bickering ensued. John Rolfe gasped. Bleud's crew! he thought. He peered up and tried to find his friend in the trees. When Rolfe spotted Siwili, the latter looked even more unsettled than himself. He was trying to catch a view of the strangers through the foliage without giving away his location.
Siwili had taught John Rolfe many things over the past few days, one of which was how to mimic a call of the mockingbird. Rolfe made the sound three times in succession. The hunter scanned the forest in Rolfe's direction. Just as he set eyes upon the affrighted white man, Rolfe put a finger to his lips and made a cutthroat gesture across his neck before pointing toward the strangers. He frantically beckoned Siwili to come back in his direction. The hunter in Siwili vanished as the brave awoke and became alert.
As Siwili crept down from his own tree, John Rolfe did the same and fell into a crouch as the first pirates came into view in the clearing. They included Flame, Spike-Eyes with the dog Françoise, and the bosun. All appeared to be assessing the spot where the buck had stood. "Well, the beast is gone, that's for sure. Ain't worth cryin' over spilt blood," Flame declared. "Or the lack thereof. Let's move, men," he decreed, beckoning them all onward. Rolfe bit his lip when he saw they were headed in the general direction of the village.
The Englishman wracked his brain for an idea. He had to think of something. The worst he imagined was a village burnt to the ground and its inhabitants dead or worse. That was in no way an acceptable eventuality. By his faith, he could never let such a vision come to pass. Pocahontas, he thought. I must tell Pocahontas. We'll think of something!
John Rolfe turned and came face-to-face with Siwili, who had his bow drawn. Rolfe shook his head and pushed the weapon down. He grabbed his friend's hand and dragged him in the opposite direction. "Very bad men!" he whispered. "Mustn't trifle with."
They moved through the trees as quickly as possible, returning on the same path they had come. In record time, they reached the canoe at the riverbank. John Rolfe shoved it right into the water and hopped in, waiting for Siwili to take his place in the back. He began to paddle like his life depended on it and the local warrior took a cue and did the same.
…
Pocahontas and Awenasa were working the cornfields, the former's ever-watchful friends Percy and Flit at her side. Meeko was preoccupied with stealing corn from Pocahontas's basket. "Meeko! We're supposed to be gathering food right now, not eating it," she said. "At least take it from the stalks and not my basket, you little mischief-maker."
Pocahontas had fallen back into the rhythm of picking ears and dropping them into her basket when she thought she heard a minute pop. It was almost inaudible in the distance but she looked up. Percy started to bark frantically, confirming her suspicion. "Percy, did that sound like a gunshot to you?" Pocahontas inquired, receiving a brisk nod and another yip. The young woman's heart pounded in her chest. "John! We've got to find John!"
Flit became alert as he buzzed above the tall cornstalks, squinting his eyes in the direction of the noise. Awenasa glanced at Pocahontas and Percy with an inquisitive look before Pocahontas abruptly ran off toward the village with a full basket under her arm. The animals followed suit. The warrior's wife ran after her, only catching up to her when they reached the village. Pocahontas began calling John Rolfe and Siwili's names at the top of her lungs and searching the area. "Pocahontas, ou besat no Djahn en Siwili to kimé setida su kodeis adukso kami ras?" Awenasa asked, perplexed by Pocahontas's agitation.
Pocahontas hurriedly rushed over to Awenasa's side. "John and Siwili! Where are they? Where did they go?" she inquired, raising her shoulders in a shrug to denote the question.
Awenasa mimed shooting something with a bow and pointed to a canoe on the nearby riverbank. Then she pointed southeast. "That's where I heard the gunshot! They're hunting out there? John doesn't have a gun with him!" Pocahontas cried, shaking her friend slightly. Awenasa still did not understand the Powhatan princess's frenzied behavior. Pocahontas growled in frustration and dropped her corn basket to the ground, darting over to the canoe. "Meeko, Percy, come on!" The aforementioned animals jumped into the canoe as Pocahontas pushed it out into the water. She waved her arm for Awenasa to come along and help her paddle. "We must find them right away!"
Awenasa still did not understand but she went along with Pocahontas's request anyway and got into the canoe in the front position. Pocahontas sat in the back and started to paddle like crazy as Flit followed along on the wing. They traveled southeast on the river for about an hour before another canoe came into view far downriver. "John Rolfe! John, is that you?!" Pocahontas called, cupping her mouth with her hands to project her voice.
"Yes, it's me!" John Rolfe called back.
By the time they reached each other, they were panting. They held onto each other's canoes in the calm water, pressing the vessels against each other with John Rolfe by Pocahontas and Siwili by Awenasa. "John, Percy and I heard a gunshot. Did you hear it?"
"Yes, Pocahontas! It's the pirates! They've found us. They're trailing us as we speak!" John Rolfe revealed. "It seems your instincts a few days back were correct. I don't know how but you've got an incredible sense of intuition, my love!" he promptly remarked.
Pocahontas glanced in the direction of the village. "We can't lead them to the village!"
"Precisely, dear," John Rolfe replied. "Now, listen, I'm glad you came to find us because I've got a plan. There are dozens of innocent men, women, and children in that village. They haven't got the right weapons to defend themselves. If Flame and his crew find the village, there will be a bloodbath and they will find the village if we do nothing because they've got dogs on our scent trail. Now, what I want you to do is go back to the village right now. Take Siwili and Awenasa with you. Try to communicate to our friends that we need supplies for a long journey to the best of your ability. We need food and warm clothes and anything else you can think of. Understand? We won't be able to stay in the village over the winter after all. We're the ones the pirates want, so we've got to be the ones to lead them away. I am going to go back and get the crew to follow me on a long path westward and then north in a circle around the village. You and I will meet on the far side of the north lake. From there, we head home. Got it?" he hastily explained.
Pocahontas bit her quivering bottom lip. "But, John, you're going to go back there by yourself?! At least take Siwili with you. He's a warrior. He can protect you if…"
"No, he can't," John Rolfe interrupted. "He's a strong capable man but he doesn't have the right weaponry. Secondly, we don't want the pirates to know we've befriended the locals around here. They could use that friendship against us, so we mustn't be seen with them. Don't you worry, Pocahontas. I don't plan on confronting them up close. I merely intend to have them chase me from a distance and I will keep well ahead of them. On that note, I could use Flit's help if anything. Could you spare him?" he quickly inquired.
Flit immediately chirped twice and dutifully saluted John Rolfe, buzzing over to land on the Englishman's shoulder. Pocahontas still looked terrified. She was trembling in fear. "John, please be careful. If anything happened to you, I don't know that I could…"
John Rolfe pulled her in to press a kiss to her lips, silencing her. "Have faith. I will put myself in no more danger than I must and will do my best to steer clear of them."
"But what if you get lost?" she objected. "What if both you and Flit get lost?!"
"Since when has Flit ever been lost? He's a bird with an inner compass. Even if he's forgone doing so in order to stay with you, he's meant to migrate long distances. Now, we must part here. There's no time, Pocahontas. I'll see you on the far side of the north lake, alright? Given the much farther distance that I've got to travel, you should be able to get there first and wait for me with Percy and Meeko. Now, scoot up a spot so Siwili can sit in the rear. He's the strongest," he urged, motioning for Pocahontas to move forward.
Pocahontas climbed over to the middle and John Rolfe motioned for Siwili to climb into the other canoe. The warrior and his wife had been listening intently during the conversation, though they had no idea what was being said. Nevertheless, they were on high alert. Awenasa, in particular, was on the highest alert once Siwili had whispered to her what had transpired down on the hunting range. Siwili raised an eyebrow at Rolfe's request to switch boats but, trusting his new friends, he did so without delay.
John Rolfe pointed northwest. "Now, go back to the village fast as you can, all of you!" he ordered, pushing his canoe away from theirs. He scooted to the rear of the canoe and used his oar to aim it southeast. Then he glanced over his shoulder to wave goodbye.
Siwili reached out for John Rolfe once he realized the Englishman intended to head back toward the danger zone. "Supe hofe ro ro tizoro, Djahn?!" he called out, very anxious.
"It's alright, Siwili," John Rolfe responded. "Go back to the village!"
Pocahontas tapped Siwili on the knee and pointed northwest, paddling. Still perplexed, Siwili and Awenasa joined her. Siwili could not help but glance over his shoulder one final time as John Rolfe disappeared in the distance. "Keep an eye on him, Flit!" she shouted after them. She sighed and began to paddle with all her might once again.
With Siwili's help, it took less than an hour to reach the village. When they arrived, they pushed the canoe up the bank and Pocahontas turned to Siwili and Awenasa. It's now or never, she thought. She grabbed a hold of both of their wrists to get their attention and looked them both in the eye. "Talk to me," she said. "Use words." She let go of Siwili's arm to mime a talking gesture with her hand. "I need to hear you speak."
Siwili raised a brow and exchanged looks with his equally confused wife before returning his gaze to Pocahontas. "Solo no abitso zimas, Pocahontas?" he inquired, bewildered.
Pocahontas let her eyes fall closed as she repeated the words to herself in a bare whisper. Don't fail me, spirits, she wished. Help me, Mother. Help me understand. She pressed a hand to her heart, feeling its gentle vibrations. "Solo no abitso zimas…"
Pocahontas felt herself fall into a trance as a breeze picked up and encircled the three of them with golden autumn leaves. The Powhatan princess could hear Awenasa whispering to her husband, "Soré ras goleté, Siwili. Pocahontas has gonves her mind."
"That's what I'm starting to think too," Siwili said loud and clear. "They both have."
Pocahontas's eyes burst open, a starstruck expression on her face. Siwili and Awenasa stared back at her, surprised. Pocahontas wet her lips and began hesitantly, hoping to enunciate the foreign words to the best of her ability. "Do… you… understand… me?" she spoke slowly. The two local villagers gasped and jumped back in alarm. Percy's jaw dropped to the ground. He peered at the raccoon to assess his reaction, but Meeko had only a celebratory look on his face—no hint of surprise. "Do you two understand me?" Pocahontas repeated, hurriedly. "Please, there is no time! We are in danger!"
Siwili and Awenasa's faces were fraught with incredulity as they exchanged glances with each other. They peered back to Pocahontas. Siwili was the first to speak. "How is it that you know Gunalo?" he asked, not knowing what to make of the bizarre development.
"I have a gift," Pocahontas returned. "I've been trying to use it for a while but I have not succeeded until just now. I am clairvoyant, you see. I commune with the spirits."
Awenasa's eyes turned to saucers. "I've heard tales of such people but never met one."
"Quick, there is no time," Pocahontas urged. "Your people are in danger. Siwili, what did you and John see while you were out hunting? Did you see a band of strange men?"
Siwili raised a brow. "Yes, I did. John indicated they were dangerous. Who are they?"
"They're some of the evilest people on earth. We call them pirates. The ones you saw are after John and I. But they will not hesitate to attack your village. They kill at will, raid for supplies, and amuse themselves by doing unspeakable things to the women," Pocahontas warned, a look of revulsion on her face. "They are very brutal toward women."
Pocahontas's warning sent Siwili into a rage. He sheltered his trembling wife behind him as he brandished his bow in the air. "Over my dead body, they will. If they come to this village, we will destroy them. You will see! Why did John go back toward them?"
"I was getting to that part," Pocahontas continued. "You see, those pirates carry very, very, very powerful weapons that shoot fire and thunder. Your longbows and war clubs are no match. If they get to this village, there will be a bloodbath and the blood will be yours, not theirs. John knows this and he came up with a plan to lead them away. He is going to get them to chase him westward and then north around the village. Then he plans to meet up with me at the north lake that you showed us, on the far side. From there, we are going to continue our northward journey. You see, my tribe lives very far north from here. We were traveling that way before John received his concussion. You saved our lives and we are very grateful. Please, give us the chance to return the favor. It is going to be a long hard journey and we are going to need supplies. We need food and warm clothes at the very least. Can you provide us these things?" she interrogated.
"Is John crazy?!" Siwili protested, alarmed at the new information. "He could be killed if they catch him! He doesn't know this territory. He could get lost!" the warrior blared.
Pocahontas's face fell. She put her arms around herself and shuddered. "It's worse than all that," she said, fighting back tears that threatened to fall. "He could be tortured."
Panic overcame Siwili's features as his heart began to race. The safety of his close friends was never something he had taken lightly. "We must hurry!" he immediately blurted.
Awenasa was taken aback at the sight of her husband, whom she had never before seen show the slightest hint of fear. "We will supply you," she spoke, stepping out from behind Siwili with a determined look. "Come, we must go to the storehouse."
"Wait!" Pocahontas cried. She turned to Siwili as Awenasa glanced back at them. "Go tell your chief and have him bring the villagers together in a meeting so everyone knows to stay inside the village. If possible, you should hide the women and children just in case," she advised.
"I will. But do not leave before I have a chance to speak with you again, Pocahontas," Siwili replied. "I must come with you. If you're planning on traveling straight north of here, you will be running directly into enemy territory. There is a hostile tribe known as the Duchi who inhabit that area. They have scouts all over the place to guard their land and they are very violent in nature. Sometimes, they attack our villages and kidnap our women and children just to bolster their own numbers. If they capture you, they will force you to join their tribe and as well as the harem of the warrior who caught you. As for John—I cannot be sure but my intuition tells me they might cage him like an animal and parade him from village to village due to how he looks. I doubt he'd be killed."
Pocahontas gasped. "Oh no! Thanks for telling me. How can we…?"
"I'll lead you around their territory. Now, I must speak to the chief and you must go help Awenasa put travel packs together for the journey," Siwili explained, turning to his wife. "Awe, make one pack for John, one for Pocahontas, and one for me."
Awenasa nodded. She took Pocahontas's hand and hurried them off to the storehouse, Meeko and Percy in fast pursuit. Siwili went to seek out Chief Heamalahilo.
…
Making as little noise as possible, John Rolfe pushed the canoe ashore and hid it in a throng of cattails. He had sent Flit off on a mission to discover the crew's whereabouts. The hummingbird soon returned and pointed his beak eastward. "Perfect!" Rolfe whispered. "Are they currently on the move?" Flit nodded fervently. "Right, let's go."
John Rolfe hurried through the forest as quickly and silently as he possibly could. He had not been on the move more than ten minutes before a loud gunshot up ahead caused him to trip and fall flat on his face. It was followed by a round of cheers. The Englishman rose to his feet and dusted himself off before tiptoeing through a throng of saplings and shrubbery, gently pushing the fall leaves aside with his feet to avoid crunching them as Siwili had shown him. He got a second start when a baby whitetail deer that was just beginning to lose its spots for winter nearly bowled him over. Fortunately, he spread his legs open in the nick of time and the little animal darted under him and made off in the opposite direction. Rolfe peered back over his shoulder at the fleeing fawn with a raised eyebrow. "What the…?" he muttered to himself. Rolfe glanced at Flit and the tiny little hummingbird shrugged, just as perplexed as his human companion. "That's odd."
"Build the fire for the feast! The beast is fresh and fatted for the winter!" Captain Flame's voice declared triumphantly from a distance. A few gunshots went off and the men cheered again. "Don't waste bullets, ye knuckleheads!" he reprimanded his crew.
John Rolfe slunk through the forest with Flit, keeping low to the ground as he neared the pirating party. He crawled on hands and knees up a hillock and peered through foliage into the large clearing where the crew had stationed themselves. Two men were building a fire pit while the bosun was busy slitting a dead doe down the belly with a knife. The guts popped out and Rolfe clapped a hand over his mouth, gagging. Then he gasped. "Oh no!" he whispered, knitting his brows. "She must be that fawn's mummy. Those cads!"
"I dare ye to eat the heart raw, bosun!" one of the men joked.
Flit glared at the pirates and nearly charged at them but John Rolfe held up a hand to stop him. "No, Flit! Not yet. I know they're awful but we must stay put for now until they're ready to move again. Just be patient, alright?" Rolfe whispered. Flit reluctantly nodded.
"Spike-Eyes!" Flame snapped at his first mate, who appeared to be loafing around with his dog. "If you haven't anything useful to do, then least you could gather up some wood for the cookin'!" The captain pointed Spike-Eyes exactly in John Rolfe's direction.
"Aye, cap'n!" Spike-Eyes called back with a salute. John Rolfe gasped as the imposing figure rose and began to march directly toward him and the alarmed hummingbird.
John Rolfe's eyes darted around, trying to find a place to hide on his side of the hillock. Saplings and shrubbery were sparse for fifteen paces. He had not enough time to reach a decent hiding spot before Spike-Eyes arrived—at least not without being seen or heard. He swallowed and trembled in fear as the enemy approached, unsure what to do.