Chapter 5- Survival
North America
1607
"John we need to trade, they say the winter is fast approaching," a auburn haired council member stated.
John nodded in agreement, although he also felt more should be done maintain their own substance through the growth of crops. However, he knew that Radcliffe would allow the release of the men to do such work. "Gold came first," if the stockholders could have seen, they had a goldmine in lumber and other recourses, but they could not see nor could Radcliffe.
As a matter of fact Radcliffe now looked at him with contempt written all over his face, madden at John's acquisition of fifteen men to journey on his trading party. John smiled in the face of that contempt, it warmed him after much pleading to the sane member of the council that he had somewhat started his plans for the colony and to know that he had just struck the first of many blows to contempt of others. He wished Newport would have been there to see him, he had made his first move but Newport had already taken to the sea early. Now he was on his own, the way he liked it to be. Now he and his allotment of men would leave as soon he gathered the need supplies for their journey.
"Welcome, daughter of my brother, Pocahontas," It was her uncle.
It always irked her the way his formality always had an air of mockery held in it. He was family and a leader of his own village, but of course, he was subject to the rule of her father the emperor. He was jealous of his brother she knew that, but what would he do of given the chance to inflect that jealousy upon her father, she did not know.
"I am delighted to be here and my father, the king, send his good will to you." She was then lead by her uncle's favorite wife to her lodgings were she would sleep until the festivities began later.
"John the casket is heavy," Thomas complained, carrying the small casket that contained the items they would trade. "I know that's why I had you to carry it."
"Well thanks a lot."
At that John smiled and batted at the redhead's cap that was slowly tilting over the boys eyes due to weight of the casket. John knew how much it weighed and it was heavy- copper, tools, clothing and small hand hatchets. But, he carried what he knew the natives would hold in high regard, or at lest the two friendly natives that he had run across three days before had. While scouting, he found them fishing, unarmed, and receptive. He had spoken to them in Algonquin and they understood, he mentally thanked himself for studying the language before he left London.
With the natives, he had traded small blue glass beads for information on a village that he could trade to for food. They said the beads were the color of the sky and that they must contain the energy from their Sky God and then they hurriedly told him of a village to trade with. Now here they were close to the village from his directions. It was near dusk when they saw the village. It teemed with life and he could see women gathering the necessities to cook food, men working as children played around them, and lastly he saw the setting up of some sort of celebration.
They had seen the small group approach and they let them, for they had been ordered not to kill unless needed, so that they might learn how to defeat the pale people. John approached and spoke a greeting in their language. They understood and admitted the group into the city. John faced what they had called the werowance- or sub-king of from what he learned the great Powhatan and also this werowance's brother. Realizing, the nature of situation John stepped into formality so as not to offend. In good faith John spread the trade goods across the floor of the longhouse.
The werowance approached and looked at the items and on his face made a gesture of interest, mainly at the small pile of copper. "What do your offer for these objects," John asked.
"I offer you ten baskets of corn for this, "pointing at the copper. John answered in the native language, " King- so as not to offend, this metal is valuable in my land," a lie he knew but if surviving constituted a lie well then he had too, "We would need more baskets for the price of such value."
The werowance consulted this, but he wouldn't budge. "For twenty baskets I will would give you this copper and a choice of the best hatchet," John offered. The werowance then fingered the largest hatchet.
"I can't, for we need our food to ourselves." John thought to the endless rows of corn he had seen as they approached the village and John knew what he had to do. "Werowance, I understand."
Then John pulled from his pouch one roundedly smooth sky colored glass bead and played with it in his hands. He saw the amazed look on the werowance's face. "In my land this is very rare and no one but the king and his family are allowed such beauty. To you a king could poses this for thirty baskets."
John could see the worry written in the face of the werowance but he could also see the lust the bead had caused in him.
"But you have not the men to carry such a bounty."
"If you could lend you some of your men to help carry."
John then returned the bead to the pouch and he saw the frustrated look it caused.
"Then agreed, we will give thirty baskets of corn now just hand me the blue magic."
The werowance also knew that this gave them a chance see how the pale ones lived and their number. In agreement, the John handed the bead to the werowance.
"The baskets shall he filled now, however you may stay for your festivities tonight and make camp outside the village your baskets will be filled and by the sun's awaking the men will carry them" the werowance said as he molested the bead in his hands.
John nodded. When the left the long house the sky was dark. The werowance lead John to a seating area where he and the werowance would talk, feats, and view the entertainment of the evening.
Pocahontas had just finished dressing when Nakoma burst through the doors. "Your uncle has just finished trading with a pale one did." Pocahontas looked at Nakoma with surprise.
"Your not telling me you did hear or see anything."
"No I didn't" was Pocahontas's answer.
"We're to give them thirty baskets of corn after the feast. This is no were near a good price for what they gave" "Nakoma what did they offer."
"A small round object the color of the Sky God."
"The Sky God, Nakoma." She was suddenly reminded of the eye color of the pale man of which she had seen in the forest. Pale they were, blue, the color of a God. Nakoma grabbing her hand to lead her out of the longhouse shook her out of her thought.
"Come and see for yourself, for your uncle wears it and sets beside a pale one."
Coming out she was aware of the sky and how the shadows cast before were radiated by firelight. They moved the crowds of people swiftly when she was caught by the flash of gold in front of her. Her eyes didn't lie to her, it was him, never could she thought that she would look upon him again. Then she stood again still as she did in the forest trapped by a force she didn't understand. Nakoma tugged at her hard to move forward. "No," was her answer.
"Don't you want to see him closer, with your rank you could walk right up to your uncle and to him."
"No," she said with anxiety this time.
"Why are you fearful, I've never known you to be fearful. Is it his looks? Do they displease you- for he looks unnatural."
"No, no I just don't know."
"Well we can just eat." "Fine." The two women made it to the made there way to the fire were the other women gathered to serve. Like many others, they got what they could and made their way to a group of women to converse about the newcomers. John felt the conversation lag on and on, this werowance was determined to show his strength and dominance, this of which he understood and done the same. He had to lie, lies to strengthen the colony. He wove a story that he was sure would reach the ears of this Powhatan. It was tale of how his people had been blown off course by a great sea storm and that now they awaited the great pale father to send ships to rescue them, this was partly true Newport was going to England as he spoke and would return with needed supplies that would in light rescue them.
Now he just observed while the werowance talked, all this he would some how work into his book even down to how the fire in front of him glowed a molten gold against the dark. That's when he was sure his eyes fooled him, with the turn of her head to the fire he saw her gathered with the other women. From what he could tell she was dressed wonderfully, her red feather cape hanging loosely from her shoulders. Was she even aware of him and how would she act if she saw him, what did she think of him?
He was hit then, "She'd think me a killer out on the hunt, she'd run again if she saw me." Thinking something in the bottom pit of his stomach turn, he felt sorry for himself, as if he just realized what he was- he was a killer, a trained one in fact. The women talked of the strange pale men gathered by what they figured was their ruler.
They talked of the smell, look, and even how the hair cover the faces of some of the men- not including the leader that had eyes the color of the Sky God or the red haired boy that sat with the older men. But to all this Pocahontas was oblivious, she concentrated on her own feelings. She had come to the decision that as an emissary to her people she had to overcome these feelings of fear. It was for her people, they relied on her and in that there was no place for fear.
Therefore, she would show strength and good will by taking to and gathering information from the golden haired one, to which the women thought to be a pale werowance by his air of command. Her uncle's voice sounded breaking her concentration, he called for the women to dance.
"Come on Pocahontas, join us in dance," her uncle's wife pleaded.
Had it been anyone else she would have turned away, even if had been Nakoma, but it would disappoint her father if her aunt or uncle complained that she wouldn't join in on the festivities in his honor. So, she conceded. Linking arms in giant circle, she joined the dance sure he would see her. The way she moved reminded him of the balls he had been to, graceful, and elegant.
However, she moved with more energy and life than could ever be found in English balls. The way she leapt and stretched her arm in a enchanting language all of there own excited him. He watched how the glow of the fire covered her face in shadow one moment and with movement give off light the next.
The werowance had coveted the blue bead for magic, but to him she was magic itself. He enjoyed this moment and placed it in his heart. His men enjoyed it also and John could her their laughter and lustful banter, he was glade no one understood them. A brave approached the werowance's and John overheard that their baskets were ready for the pale ones to take them to their camp and that the natives would be ready for the trek by the morn. Suddenly, John felt uneasy, he knew what the next words would be from the werowance, a dismissal.
He was right and he gathered his men to carry the loads of corn to a site that they would camp at in the dark, a hard task. John however felt reluctant to leave, he wanted to watch her dance but he had to give up that dream and continued with his men. From her circle watched him leave and she knew what she had to do. He had chosen a site and he stood watching as the last few baskets were carried out. He was outside the city walls and had begun to fallow his men when he felt a soft touch. Turing on his heels he looked into her face and it conquered him. Turning from her he had made a call to his men that she did not understand, but instead of walking off he stayed, her hand still attached to his arm. He had told his men not to worry, that he would be on later.
As quickly as he had turned his head, he faced her again. He could tell she was shocked, maybe because she did not expect him to stay or maybe that he had allowed her to continue touching his arm. He knew enough of emotions to see written in her face agitation. She however, no matter how hard she tried would not be able to read him as easily. He had been learned never betray your true feeling, if you do that it could kill you, never show how things affected you. Life had taught him this and for him anger was the only emotion he allowed himself to display, if he chose to. To ease her mind he did the only thing he could think of, he said hello. Pocahontas felt her eyes widen and he saw it.
She responded back "Wingopo."
He then told her his name John Smith and the in what surprised her crude Algonquin asked her name. With a steady voice, she mouthed the word that would live in his soul,
"Pocahontas." With her answer, he felt as he had never.
"Pocahontas, your dance was wonderful," he spoke.
He was marveled by her kindness and of the way she spoke as she thanked him for comment. Tender, with a deep rumble was his voice and she liked the way her name sounded as he spoke.
"I am sorry for running from you the day in forest."
Apologize, he had not expected that, if he would have been in her position he would have done the same. Nor had he ever expected to ever see her again. In addition, this he told her, "No apology, fear is a needed emotion it keeps you alive. I just never thought we would meet again as now."
A small smile spread across her lips and he gave her one of his own. He had stayed longer than he intended and need to bid his leave. "I must go to my men, maybe one day we will meet again."
Pocahontas gave a nod. As she turned to head back towards the village, he touched her shoulder. It was the area were her mantle had slid off in her run to catch him. To her exposed shoulder, his hand was warm. His heavy gaze locked to hers. As they stood eye-to-eye she felt the roughness of his hand pull the fallen mantle back across her skin covering her to the night air.
In this motion his eyes had changed and she was sure hers had too. Swiftly he turned and left. She watched him until he was engulfed into a sea of darkness. By morn, they would venture to there own homes, but this night nether would sleep.
