XXVI. The Sacrifice

"Savages, Savages...now we sound the drums of war... ."

John's head never felt so heavy, while he struggled to lift his strained neck. He couldn't feel his hands that were still tied behind his back, the rope having cut into his wrist, and his circulation. His knees sunken into the ground from having been in his position for so long.

"Bring out the Prisoner!" He translated from their foreign tongue. A couple men yanked his body upwards, forcing him to standing position. The blood rushed to his feet, on which he continuously stumbled, his head still bobbing from the weight as they forced him along.

He had said one final prayer that night. He had thought of all his comrades, how he hardly valued his life...yet to leave them all now...Newport, Bart, Kenny, Arch. What Thomas thought, it didn't matter. He would have to make up his own mind. If there were but one chance...if not for her sake may it hasten!

Thomas himself could hardly hear any drums or anything at all...he dragged his rifle, his feet were moving...yet his mind was back in the glade. All that transpired. Why was he even still doing this? Was all the bloodshed worth it? For the first time since he arrived, he began questioning whether he should've made this trip in the first place. But had he not met Smith... .

Uphill...downhill...something scuffling underneath his feet. Leaves? Twigs? Loose rocks? He was numb to it all. Up ahead a ledge with several brown men lined up at the top, sharp, arrows pointed in their direction

Smith was being pushed up a hill, finally in a sea of brown armed men, he saw a ledge, below were his men...all armed. He wished he had energy still to tell them not to bother. That his life would not be worth all this... .

When Thomas could see John he wavered with his rifle. Even while all the others were lighting theirs, aimed and ready.

Forced to kneel again his head was thrust onto a rock. He could only turn his head slightly to see the Chief, her father, with a large club in his hand. And he was coming down to strike.

Eyes were closed, bracing for impact... .

But before anyone could shoot, a fleeting figure the speed of a deer came down over John before the Chief could strike. The club was immediately pulled back. A young woman with long raven hair lifted her head, quarreling with the Chief in their tongue. She covered Smith again.

The Chief, silent for a moment, raised the club between both his hands. His face was not angry, but indicated peace.

Thomas could see John was being brought to his feet, and the rope around his arms was released. They set him free? He is free!

"...a trick!" Ratcliffe insisted. He got his rifle, aiming for the Chief.

Thomas was just catching sight of what Ratcliffe was doing. No!

Just as the shot was fired, Smith was jumping in front of the Chief, only to catch the blow. Thomas could see Smith reaching for his side as just as he was landing atop the cliff.

"He shot him—he shot Smith!" Some of the men exclaimed.

That does it—someone has to stand up to this man! Thought Thomas. "Put him in chains!" he announced. Thomas hadn't time to think of why the men were following his orders; but when some men cuffed him and sent him away, Thomas couldn't help but feel satisfied, if only for a moment. He one decision to make. What about John? Gosnold?! He noted men were rushing up top to aid him. I've got to find Gosnold!

Thomas was tracing back his steps. Where could He have gone? He was nearly out of options when he heard a slight moan. He noted it was coming near a waterfall, clearly in pain. He went down as fast as he could down a slope.

"Gosnold?"

"Thomas!" He sounded exasperated. Laying at the base of the waterfall, he tried getting up, and cringed.

"'Tis Alright, I have you," Thomas said helping him settle onto a rock. "What happened?"

"I was running, last I remember, something hard hit me and I fell. "When I came to, I was down here, my leg throbbing with pain. I tried moving, but I couldn't. It must've happened whenever I was came down here."

"I have a sneaking suspicion who did this," noting his ankle was badly bruised. "We'll get you some help."

"What happened to John? Did they kill him? I thought I heard a gunshot."

"John is...freed." He paused wondering what more he should tell him.

"Freed! That is wonderful, but how?"

"All I can say 'twas that 'friend' of his...I must warn you. John has been shot—by Ratcliffe. You won't have to worry about him, I have him locked up."

"Is Smith badly hurt?"

"I cannot yet say, but I wanted to find you. ''Twas difficult to leave camp again beforehand. We must get you back and get both of you tended to." I'll see if I can find us another way back."

"Thank you, Thomas. I am very much obliged."

"I know John would have done this, and you for him." Thomas put an arm around his shoulder and began pulling him carefully.

The way back was longer, but soon Thomas was in sight of the others. "'Tis Thomas, and Gosnold is with him." Ben and Lon rushed over to help carry Gosnold.

"How is John?" Thomas asked them.

"He is hurt indeed, but not his pride. Smith'll pull through!" Ben assured him.

They brought Gosnold to a tent with Smith. The look on each other's faces was priceless.

"Where have you been?" Smith coyly remarked.

"Could say the same about you, stranger." They both laughed. After tendering to Gosnold's ankle the rest let the two men talk.

"Who did this to you?"

"I'll give you one good guess... ."

"Likely the one who did this to me?!"

"We always knew he was up to no good, but couldn't prove it!"

"Where's he now?"

"Locked, under the deck, likely keeping Kenny company, for now. They're planning on sending us both back, on the morrow."

"All the way back to England? Will you make it?"

"It appears I have no choice...the doctors are there, the medicine, treatments. How will you fare?"

"Oh, this, is nothing. I'm sure I'll be on my feet in some days," his friend smiled wearily. He even wondered if he looked a bit pale the last they spoke. "Some remarkable wooded areas around here, one could get lost...Thomas, he's a good sport...reminds me of another man I knew a little more than ten year ago."

"Well, he had quite the instructor." Then Smith winced in pain, and grew silent.

"That young woman...Pocahontas? Thomas and I saw her when we went looking for you. I can see what you saw in her...she is beautiful... ."

"She's the reason they let me go. If not for her sacrifice, the Chief would've bashed my skull!"

"Your head is much too hard, John." He teased, then added. "And for that, the Governor shot you?"

"He intended to shoot the Chief, but I stepped in just in time."

"A sacrifice for a sacrifice. And now...what will become of you two?"

"I don't know, but it's not going to be the same without her."

The next morning they were preparing to leave. Kenny, brought above deck, and released bid goodbye to his friend.

"It won't be long, Smithy...don't mind these. My big mouth as usual... ."

"You always spoke your mind!"

"Next time Smith," Arch greeted him.

"We've had some good times, didn't we?" His friend nodded.

Even Percy came to say goodbye. "Smith, after all this time, we could've been good friends."

"I'm not dead, Percy."

"No, but if 'twere me, I would've already been dead."

For Percy, that was a compliment. "Thanks Percy.

Then Bart, had to say his goodbyes. "Comrade...I know for you, this won't be your last time. You still have a future, here."

He would've hugged him if it weren't so painful, but they shook hands instead. His, however, felt cold."

"Aren't you coming? I'm sure your family would like to see you... ."

He paused. "I will...in time... ."

There was one more person...where was she?

Thomas and the men were preparing to board him, but he stopped them, with the little strength he had.

It was enough...for she was coming.

"You will always be welcome among our people... ." The chief draped a throw blanket over John.

Thomas and the others could only watch...they could only have respect for this woman who saved their comrade's life, even though his battle was far from over.

"...No matter what happens, I'll always be with you forever!" Thomas and the others could onły witness the most passionate kiss they'd see in their lifetime.

"Godspeed, John." Thomas wished him well as he boarded the Susan Constant. He took one final glimpse of the land, his comrades, and the one he loved.

Even while the ship was moving he was certain he could see from a distance...someone blowing a message his way:

Godspeed...'till we meet again.

Indeed. We shall meet again. Godspeed.