XXIV: Savages

Meanwhile, at a campfire, the men were discussing Smith's revelations.

"What if Smith is right? What if there is no gold?"

While the men were talking amongst themselves, Thomas noted a shadow from behind a tent…someone was sneaking off…again. Where could he be going?

Thomas kept a safe distance as he crept from behind the Captain. He got to the fort's walls before someone from behind him handed him a gun and pushed him forward. The Governor, the man in purple.

"Follow him. I want to know where he's been sneaking off to. And if there are any Indians out there, shoot them." He added disdainfully. "Thomas need I remind you you've been a grave disappointment."

He didn't need reminding. Off all the men aboard, he had the least amount of skills in that regard. He was one of the youngest aboard, but still. He needn't the other men reminding him and commenting he should've stayed home. John was the only one who seemingly believed in him; someone he wasn't certain what to believe anymore.

He continued onward. It was almost a bit difficult to keep up. John seemed to move swiftly, knowing every turn, rock, even the turned up roots! The fortunate part, was he could follow his footprints. He had a wide width with shoes that were well worn, but just enough tread to remain of use.

Stop. He was approaching a clearing with Willow trees. Voices. John's and someone else's—woman's voice. Where were there women around here who spoke English. Better yet, where were there any women at all? He hadn't seen any since passing through the River Thames.

"Alright. Let's go talk with your father."

Whose father—and about what? He had to see. Using his rife to lift the dangling willows, he wasn't prepared…unsee it? Too late.

"John?" What?! Bloody hell! Why was he kissing…an Savage? One of them? Is this what he was really up to all this time? All. —

"Aeyow…"

Now what the buggering hell was that? Thomas soon had his answer when a copper skin man headed straight for John and knocked him to the ground. John was in trouble. He began running toward the clearing, loading his gun…

John was wrestling against the ground with this man the women was shouting something to the man in her language but he pushed her away. He had John pinned to the ground, a dagger headed straight for his throat Quick! What was it that John told him? "Keep both eyes open… ." His rifle was lit. It would be seconds before the bullet would fire. The women was coming back, John was rising. He aimed. I won't fail you now… .

Crack!

The other tried grasping for the women but fell backwards into the water. Close call. John was safe…by why didn't he feel so victorious? John appeared startled, like he hadn't expected to see him.

The women leaned over the body. "He killed him." Suddenly she angrily went towards him. "You killed him!" Wait—she spoke English?!

"Pocahontas, it won't help… ." John was holding her back trying to calm her down. He looked at Thomas. "Thomas get out of here." He repeated louder. "Get out of here!"

Thomas didn't have much time to flee the scene. When he was out of sight he looked back to see a bunch of copper skinned men. A couple picked up the body, the others were taking John. He had to run fast.

Who was she? How did she know English—well, clearly she had an instructor… . Why was John so angry? Whose side was he on? He had no time to keep wondering how John seemingly captivated this, attractive women—in the wilderness, of all places (only John would have such luck)! John needed his help.

"They captured him!" Thomas was nearly out of breath by the time he made it back to camp.

"Who?" The settlers were asking.

"The Savages! John. They've captured John. They're going to kill him! We've got to say him. He'd do the same for any of us."

"Thomas is right. We've got to do something!" Ben agreed.

"So we shall." Ratcliffe spoke. "I told you those savages couldn't be trusted. Smith tried to befriend them, and look what they've done to him. And so I say it's time we rescue our courages comrade. At daybreak we attack!" Various cheers were heard.

"Savages! Savages…" the men kept chanting. "We will sound the drums of war!"

However, Thomas wasn't in the mood to follow along with him. Why did he have this sick feeling in his stomach? He looked at his gun awkwardly, as if it were foreign. He finally used his gun properly, and now he wanted nothing to do with it.

No more bloodshed. Not from me. He decided. Thomas was going to sit this one out as he placed his gun down.

Meanwhile, John was tied to a pole in a wigwam. The chanting near the fire was all he found hear.

"Savages! Savages…" they chanted in their language. "First we'll deal with this one. Then we sound the drums of war."

John can only glare back at them. Where was my dagger? If I could only reach it from my shoe… . No. he was placed so awkwardly he couldn't reach in his shoe from behind his back.

Thomas, I let you down. He thought to himself. He didn't have to face it to realize that. The look on Thomas' face when he saw them together after the shot was fired said it all. All throughout the voyage he told him of his exploits and it was clear he idolized him. In fact, he wish he hadn't. It only made this situation much harder.

He hadn't expected this to happen. She was just someone spying on him at the waterfall. But after seeing her, he couldn't shoot…and after spending time with her, he wasn't sure he could go back to the way things were… .

"This is all my fault." She was telling him. He could see her eyes were puffy from excessive crying. "None of this would've happened if… ."

"Pocahontas. Look at me…I'd rather die tomorrow than live a hundred years without knowing you." He told her. He wasn't worried about that now. It happened. an now, he could live with that, for now at least.

Voices outside the wigwam. She had to leave. "I'm sorry."

"No matter what happens, I'll always be with you forever." He imagined that might be the last time he'd feel her touch… . It may even be the last time he'd see anyone else, even Thomas.

He had to help him understand…but how? Now, he might never get the opportunity… .