~.~

Chapter Six

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He spent all day thinking of her.

It was only after he'd nearly hacked the scythe into his leg that Edward realized he hadn't paid one whit of attention to his work. He'd been thinking of Bella's huge, dark eyes, so sweet and soft, and the way she looked at him. Every time she turned those eyes to him, they were full of warmth and tenderness. Every time he stepped through the door of their house, Bella seemed genuinely happy to see him, and interested in what Edward had been doing that day, even if it was only stripping the bark from trees. And every time she looked at him, she smiled, as though just the sight of him made her happy. At night, she curled up against his body, her head on his shoulder and gave a soft sigh, a sweet sound of contentment that always made him smile in the darkness.

When he woke in the morning, he would sometimes look down at her sleeping face and watch as the first rays of dawn illuminated her moonbeam skin. His eyes would trace the curves and hollows of her face and neck, and that soft dip between her collarbones. He longed to press his lips there. He didn't know why that spot intrigued him so, but it did.

Once, he woke with her thigh draped over his waist, her chemise pooled down around her hip and he'd had to ball his hands into fists to keep from tracing it with his fingertips. Having her in his arms felt as natural as breathing. It felt like his home now.

Edward paused to wipe the sweat from his forehead and glanced up at the sun to judge the time. It was directly overhead, and time for the noonday meal. He and Jasper had been cutting reeds from the marsh all morning long to bundle together for the thatched roof of his father's house. It was nearly complete. Edward felt himself getting impatient about it of late. The sooner the house was completed, the sooner he could fully devote his time to his own home, with Bella.

She said she didn't mind, but Bella seemed to have a easy nature. In most regards, anyway. Edward smothered a smile as he whistled to catch Jasper's attention. Bella's wrath had been a fearsome thing a few nights ago when Carlisle and Esme had come over for dinner.

Esme had been awed by the house and she - who only owned two gowns - was stunned by the array of Bella's in the clothes press and trunks. She didn't quite know how to react when Bella spontaneously offered her one as a gift, and then set about stripping Esme of her plain gray linen gown to put her into a new plum colored wool dress. Esme shyly picked her way down the stairs to where Carlisle sat at the dining table.

Carlisle had frozen in place, staring at his wife open-mouthed for a long moment. And then his face suffused with color and he demanded to know what Esme was doing in such worldly frippery.

Edward understood his reaction, even if Bella didn't. He explained it to her later, though it didn't change her opinion of the situation. Carlisle felt insulted, as though Bella were saying he couldn't provide for his wife properly.

Carlisle started to order Esme to change out of the gown and Bella slapped her hand down onto the table with a loud crack that made all of them jump. She turned to Carlisle - this tiny creature whose head barely reached as high as his chest - and blasted him with the heat of her words. "Don't be such a clout-headed fool, Carlisle. Tell your wife she looks pretty and sit down!"

To Edward's shock, his father stared at Bella for a moment, then blinked. He turned to Esme, and said, "I beg your pardon, goodwife. You look passing fair." And with that, he pulled out his chair and sat down, his gaze on his plate.

Bella pulled the pot off the iron pivot and plunked it on the table. "Dinner is served."

Carlisle had been quiet throughout the rest of the meal, but Edward noticed he kept sneaking glances over at Esme, a curious light in his eyes. Alice's eyes were as wide as saucers, and she kept her head down throughout the meal, feeding a jabbering Emmett from her own plate while Bella fed Rose, crooning to the little girl like she didn't have a care in the world.

Edward had expected his father would chastise him the next day for allowing his wife to speak to him so disrespectfully, but Carlisle never said a word. He was still oddly subdued a few days later, but Edward noticed a marked change between Carlisle and Esme. He now looked at her when he spoke, and he even lifted a kettle for her one day when he noticed she struggled beneath its weight. And whenever she wore that plum-colored gown, his eyes followed her.

Jasper heard Edward's whistle and picked his way across the swampy ground to the two-wheeled cart they were filling with the bundles of reeds. Beside it was a basket Esme had brought them, the contents covered tightly in a towel, and two stoneware bottles of beer. They sat down in the cart's shade and Edward pulled off the towel.

"Baked cod!" he announced. The two fish had been wrapped in leaves, nestled in the basket beside hunks of goat cheese, still in the rind, and a small loaf of bread to share. They peeled back the fish skin and began to pick out the cooked flesh inside with their fingers.

"I thought I should ask you," Jasper said, licking his fingers, "since Alice is living in your home ..."

Edward knew what was coming. He ate a bite of cheese to hide his grin.

"I was intending to speak to your father tonight." Jasper plucked out another piece of fish and chewed before he continued. "I'm going to ask for her hand."

Edward nodded. "I would be happy indeed to have you as a brother-in-law."

"I have a bit of money saved. I'm going to ask Governor Bradford if Alice and I can have our own plot of land, but until I can build a house -"

"You will be welcome in our home," Edward said. "Bella told Alice that right after we married."

"I do not know how to thank you, other than to tell you I'd always offer you the same." Jasper slung an arm around Edward's shoulders and gave him a hug. "I know Bella has resources of her own, but I want you to know I think of her as a sister, and she will always be taken care of if anything should happen to you."

"Thank you." This pact of family and friendship did bring him some reassurance. Jasper was right that Bella had resources of her own - probably quite a few Edward didn't know about, if the truth be told - but Edward well knew how these things could vanish in an instant.

A fire could destroy all of a family's assets. A sinking ship could take with it every investment. A bank could fail and its owners vanish with all of the deposits, wiping out all of a family's wealth. A child could be left an orphan with nothing left to him but to beg for his bread or sell his indenture. Theirs was a world where a widow or orphan could starve or freeze to death if no one offered them shelter. And here in this New World, the line between safety and the wilderness was thin, indeed.

Jasper tore the loaf of bread and offered half to Edward. "And how does married life find you?"

Edward felt his cheeks heat. "Bella is ... Well, you've met her."

Jasper grinned. "Aye, I have. A good wife, I'd imagine, and she seems to love children. She'll make a fine mother. And part of the joy of children is the making of them, hmm?"

Edward choked on a piece of bread and Jasper had to whack him between the shoulders to dislodge it. "Uhh, yes, I mean I think -"

"God's teeth." Jasper's grin got wider. "You haven't, have you?"

"I do not wish to discuss it," Edward said with as great a dignity as can be mustered by a red-faced man gasping for air.

Jasper's grin faded and he took another bite of bread. He scratched his chin as he chewed and then peered at Edward for a moment. "I'll just say this: once you do, you'll wonder why you waited."

Jasper's words lingered as Edward helped him to secure the last layer of thatching to the roof late that afternoon. Esme stood in the yard and watched, a big smile lighting up her face. Her house was nearly complete. Carlisle stood on a ladder, using precious, expensive nails - which had to be made one at a time by the colony's blacksmith, William Palmer - to secure the shingles Jasper had made to cover the gable ends under the roof. Plank siding would cover the lower walls. Inside, wattle-and daub plastering would cover the logs, and finally, plank flooring would be laid. But all this "finish work" would be done by Carlisle as time permitted between his farm duties.

Carlisle came down from the ladder and admired the house with them, all of them feeling the pride of accomplishment. Out of the corner of his eye, Edward saw Carlisle lay a tentative hand on Esme's shoulder, and she turned to look up at him, eyes shining. And to Edward's surprise, Carlisle smiled back at her.

Edward made his way home as the light was fading. As he opened the door, he heard Bella laugh, and it was the sweetest music he'd ever heard.

They had a pleasant dinner and then gathered by the fireplace. The babies played on a blanket on the floor, watched closely by Alice, lest they wander too close to the fire. Bella sewed while Edward read one of her books. It was slow going at first, because he wasn't used to reading very often, but soon he fell into a comfortable pace, and laughed softly at one point.

"What is it you're reading?" Alice asked as she picked up Rose to take her to bed.

"A strange thing." Edward flipped back to the frontispiece and read it aloud. "A Midsommer nights dreme, by William Shakespeare."

" 'Tis a play," Bella explained.

Alice frowned. "Play?"

Edward looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Reading it surely isn't the same as going to see the theater."

Alice shifted the baby on her hip. "Aye, maybe not." She scuttled up the stairs as if she wanted to get away from the book's corrupting influence as quickly as possible.

"Did I say something wrong?" Bella asked.

"Plays and theater are sinful," Edward said with reluctance. "Worldly vanities that corrupt the mind with vice and lewdness."

"Ah, yes," she said. "During the reign of Eliz - the old Queen, the reformers wanted her to close the theaters. I ... heard of it."

He looked down at the book in his hands and wondered why he didn't feel guilty. He should have put the book away as soon as he realized what it was, and asked Bella to remove any such works from her shelf to store away if she couldn't bear to part with them.

But he didn't feel sinful. He felt ... curious. He wanted to know what was going to happen with Theseus and Hippolyta and he certainly didn't feel corrupted by it. He'd heard the sermons, and he knew that if the material didn't concern spiritual matters, he should turn away from it. But still, he was intrigued by the story. It reminded him of the tales his mother used to tell him when she tucked him in for the night, tales her mother had once told her, passed down through the generations. He remembered how the tales of talking wolves that pretended to be grandmothers, fairies, and selkies, wove their way into his dreams. He half-remembered a dream he'd once had of a selkie maiden who hid her pelt in a crevice in the rock... Surely, those tales had done him no harm.

He stood and slid the book back into place and gave her a small smile. "I think I'll read it just the same."

Bella smiled too. She scooped up Emmett, who had toppled over right where he'd been playing, slurping on his rattle in sleep. She took Edward's hand in her own and led him up the stairs to their room.

He undressed while he watched her tuck his brother into his cradle. Emmett never stirred. She bent down to press a kiss to his cheek and Edward reflected how fortunate he was that she had adopted his family as her own without a qualm. She had a warm heart, his new wife.

She undressed by the clothes press, folding her gown away inside. She sat down on the side of the bed and pulled the pins from her hair. It spilled down her back in a dark wave as she picked up the brush.

"Let me," Edward said. He took the brush from her and drew it through the silky mass. He kept going, even after all the tangles were gone, because he enjoyed it so. He might have kept on brushing all night if she hadn't swept her hair over one shoulder and smiled her thanks as she began to braid it.

The action left one shoulder bare and he was transfixed by that smooth expanse of skin. Before he quite realized what he was doing, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the place where her neck joined with her shoulder. He inhaled deeply as the sweet scent of her skin teased his nostrils and ran his lips across that silken expanse to her shoulder. He looked up and their eyes met for a long, silent moment.

And then Bella cupped her hands around his cheeks to tilt his head up. She slipped her hands to the back of his head as she kissed him, her fingers tangling in his hair.

Edward had been kissed before. When he was fourteen, a serving maid had grabbed him by the ears and like his head was a jug from which she was about to drink and planted a kiss on him before he could think to acquiesce or object. He hadn't seen what all the fuss was about, but now he knew. As Bella's warm, soft lips moved over his, he knew. He discovered how a kiss could make the heart slam against the ribs, and make the blood feel like it was boiling in the veins. He never wanted to stop, ever. Then, she opened her mouth and stroked his bottom lip with her tongue and it somehow managed to be even better. He threw his arms around her and clasped her tight against him, crushing her soft, lush form to his own.

He pulled her onto his lap and she flung one of her legs around his. Her chemise rode up as she did so and he was treated to a glimpse of beautiful, shapely leg. His hand skimmed along her soft, creamy flesh up to her thigh, seemingly of its own accord. She let out a soft moan that was like a bolt of heat. He understood, for the first time, what St. Paul had meant when he wrote that it was better to marry than to burn, for he was surely burning now, in a way he had never before experienced.

A vision flashed through his mind, like a memory of a dream... The flash of a knife cutting laces of a gown. Bella's face flushed with passion, her eyes bleary with pleasure.

Edward tugged at Bella's chemise and she helped to slip it over her head. He stared, open-mouthed, at the bounty he had unveiled. She wore nothing beneath it, and the sight of her body robbed him of all reason. She was beautiful. The most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, her flesh lush and rounded. He reached out a hesitant hand and traced a fingertip over her, feeling awed at being able to touch her in this way. And she let him, stretching back boldly to give him access, her eyes dreamy and unfocused, but not shy or hesitant.

Bella whispered an instruction to him and he was only too happy to comply. He tugged off his shirt and Edward heard his own voice sighing when their bodies pressed together skin to skin.

He kissed her wildly as his hands explored her body, stroking, prodding, seeking. One of his fingers slipped inside her. She arched against him and cried out and he instantly recoiled. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"Not at all," she assured him. "Do it again."

He complied and watched her skin flush as she tossed and whimpered. Those little sounds she made were quite helpful, he thought. He quickly learned how to please her by doing whatever made her gasp and moan until she shuddered with pleasure and cried out his name.

He could wait no longer. Her rolled on top of her and clumsily shoved his way inside. Joined with her at last, he froze in utter shock at how incredibly good it felt. He moved, cautiously to test the sensation and found himself driven out of any semblance of control. From a distance, he heard his own harsh groan as pleasure wracked his body and blanked his mind.

It was a long moment before his brain began to function again and he realized he was lying on top of her, likely crushing her. He muttered something unintelligible and rolled off her, pulling her close against his side. Exhausted, he managed to open his eyes for a moment and he seemed to sink into those dark, limpid pools.

His awkwardness returned as his mind cleared. She seemed to realize it and she smiled a smile so sweet and gentle that all insecurities melted in its warmth. " 'Twas lovely," she said. and that was all that needed to be said. He laid his head down beside her and drifted off into dreams.

~.~


Bella couldn't sleep. Beside her, Edward slept deeply, the sleep of an exhausted, well-sated young man. She smiled and brushed back a lock of his hair from his forehead.

It was different this time, because he was different. He was still her Edward, of course. His soul was the same, but the life it had lived this time was far removed from the one he had led as the Duke of Cullen, and so the personality around that bright, inner spirit was a little different, just as his body was now corded with hard muscle, and his hands were rough from work. She would always love his soul, but she also loved the man he had become here.

Tonight, they had crossed a significant boundary, not only in the physical sense, but also in the sweet intimacy of their connection. Perhaps he wouldn't be so shy now.

She slid from the bed and pulled a dress from the cupboard and donned it over her bare skin. Her pelt was in a small pouch she always kept within hand's reach, and she tied it around her waist under her skirts.

Bella made her way through the silent street toward the palisade fence. She had to wait until a guard had passed by, his gun clutched tightly in his hands instead of casually propped against his shoulder. She peered down the street toward the guard tower at the base of the hill and saw not one, but two guards inside, staring out toward the forest. Something had happened over the last week, something that had made them increase the patrols of the fence, and made the guards tense and nervous as they scanned the treeline.

She vaulted the fence and crossed the clearing. If anyone happened to be looking in her direction, they would have seen only a blur of movement, dismissed as a trick of the moonlight, or grass waving in the wind. Bella concealed herself amid the trees before she slowed. She walked for a mile or so through the forest before turning toward the beach, headed for the small cove where she had gone last time. The sparkling moonlight on the water made her sigh with happiness. She wished she could see it in the day, but that was unlikely to be possible for the foreseeable future. Bella began to tug off her dress when she heard a twig snap behind her.

She turned to see the Wôpanâak man she had met before. He was standing where the sand blended into the grass, a few paces away. He lifted his foot off the branch he had intentionally stepped on to alert her to his presence.

Bella dropped her skirts back into place and bowed to him.

"Water-Walker, I greet you." His dark eyes gleamed in the moonlight as he bowed in return. He stepped forward, his hand extended.

Bella took it and nearly dropped it from shock when her head flooded with images.

She saw his life ... his home ... the face of the woman he loved ... his earnest desire to create peace between his people and the pale strangers. She saw his image of her, and felt his hope that she might be the link between them, a way of overcoming the barriers of culture and language that could create unintentional or unnecessary conflict.

Bella opened her eyes and stared at him in wonderment.

"I thought you might be a mind-talker, too, but I wasn't sure." He gestured with his chin toward a nearby rock, and they walked over to sit down, their hands still joined.

"How is this possible?" Bella asked. "You are the only adult human I have ever encountered whose mind I can touch."

"I am a Walker, too." He showed her his own transformation, his body seeming to explode into a huge wolf form, taller than a man, his head as large as her torso. It was the opposite of her own transformation, slipping into her pelt, enveloped by it as she took her other form. He did not have a pelt but he must be one of the fae, a shifter just like her, even if his method of change was different.

Bella had never encountered someone like him in her travels, but she had been in the New World only infrequently, and had not explored all of this land and its inhabitants. She had tended to remain on the other side of the Endless Waters.

"They call me Jacob, the English men do. They cannot pronounce my real name."

Bella blinked and shook her head. He had a name? The fae did not use name-words. They didn't need them with their method of mind communication.

She was only further confused when she learned he had been born to a mortal woman in a tribe of humans. Only some of their people had the ability to Walk in the wolf form. They were the protectors of their tribe, a position of honor. Some of their sons were able to Walk, but not all. They did not know why some were blessed and some were not.

Bewildered, but intrigued, Bella tilted her head as she pondered. He couldn't be fae, then. But what was he? He wasn't an ordinary human, either, but rather something in between.

Jacob had patiently answered her questions, but she was sure he had questions of his own. She restrained her curiosity and deferred to him.

"You are married to one of the English men, are you not?"

"Yes." She showed him Edward, showed him Edward's sweet soul and the life they'd had before. She felt his surprise at Edward's reincarnation, and her expectation of finding him again in his many lifetimes to come.

"You are not immortal?" she asked. None of this made sense.

"We age very slowly, but we do grow old and die." She saw that they were much stronger and faster than a human, but they could be mortally injured, whereas Bella was only vulnerable to beheading and fire.

""You are the first Wolf Walker I have ever encountered. I hope I have not offended you with all of my questions."

"Nor have I ever encountered one of your kind, but we have stories of a Sea Woman," Jacob told her. "She lived in an undersea cave, but she came to the shore for love of one of our heroes of legend, a giant man named Maushop. She wore seaweed twined in the locks of her hair, and when she sang her wild songs, the waves churned and crashed against the shore. The Sea Woman tried to lure Maushop to live with her below the waves, but Maushop was wed to a woman of the land and had children with her. He would remain faithful as he had promised, even though he was unhappy with her.

"Maushop's wife was quarrelsome and there was no peace in their home, so he spent hours alone gazing out over the waves where the Sea Woman lived. When she sang to him, Maushop's heart yearned to join her in the ocean depths. He swam with her sometimes, but his ties to the land kept calling him back. When he did not come to visit her, the Sea Woman would mourn and the waters would churn with powerful waves.

"But one day, when he returned to his home, he found his wife in the arms of another man. In a rage, he threw his wife and little children into the waves below, and the children were transformed into fishes. You will see them sometimes come to the surface, their lips kissing at the air as though seeking the breast of their mother.

"Maushop mourned what he had done, and in sorrow, he walked into the waves, and into the Sea Woman's arms. He fell into a deep sleep, and she took him into her underwater lair. There, he still sleeps. Sometimes, the Sea Woman fears he will never wake, and when she mourns, the storms come. When the ships break against the rocks, she takes to him the treasures she finds on the sea floor, hoping these reminders of life on land will rouse him to wakefulness. But on he sleeps ... until our people need him again."

"Do you think your people need him now, Jacob?" Bella asked.

Jacob twisted the fringe on his leather leggings between two fingers with his free hand. "I don't know, Water-Walker. A wind is rising, and I do not know which way it will blow. Tisquantum is supposed to be working for our peace, but I fear he may be creating problems with his methods."

"Tisquantum?" Bella shook her head. "I know no one by that name."

"They wouldn't have introduced you to him." Jacob sighed. "They try to shield their women from our eyes. The women fear us and urge their men to fight to eliminate the threat they feel."

Bella thought of Alice and her vague but powerful fears of the Natives, fear that kept her behind a wall both physical and mental, kept her and the other women from attempting to get to know these people and building peace between their groups.

"Tisquantum has told our people you have the plague at your disposal and can send it out to ravage us again at will."

"Why would he do that?" Bella felt her eyebrows crunch together in confusion.

"To make us more amenable to the English demands, I assume." Sorrow suddenly made him look years older. "We fear nothing like we fear the return of the plague. So many of us ..." The images he showed her were unbearable. Women, children, old men and women, all of them fevered, covered in sores ... And soon, the dead and dying outnumbered the well and living. Empty villages were nothing moved but leaves pushed by the cold winds, where the bones of all the previous inhabitants lay in the spots where they had fallen because none was left to bury them.

Tisquantum was the only one of his village left living and so he had taken the position of go-between for the English and neighboring tribes because he felt he no longer belonged anywhere.

"Jacob, we cannot conjure disease, or direct it at people like a cannon."

Jacob relaxed a little. "He told us it was buried beneath your Meeting House."

Bella shook her head. "I know not what is buried - if anything - but disease is not kept in bottles like beer."

"That is the reason one of our chieftains has sent a challenge."

"What is that?"

"A threat. A bundle of arrows wrapped in snakeskin."

Bella felt the pit of her stomach grow cold. "We must do something." But what? Her mind was racing. Carlisle. She had to speak to Carlisle. He was well-respected in the community. He would know how to de-escalate this situation before someone got hurt.

Jacob smiled. "I knew you wanted peace, just as I do."

"I will do what I can," Bella promised. She didn't know what it was, but she would have to try.

~.~


Edward dreamed he held the bridle of a horse, leading out a red-haired woman who wore a jeweled dress and elaborate ruff. A silver armored breastplate covered her chest. Another man carried the Sword of State at her side, the sword that represented the military might of England. It had been given to her at her coronation.

Around them was a crowd of thousands. Soldiers wearing the livery of the nobles who sat on horses in front of them, small militia groups formed by the towns and villages, and ordinary people armed with clubs, scythes and pikes. Every one of them was grim-faced but determined. Edward looked out at the sea, as though he would see the Spanish ships approaching with the gathering storm clouds.

The woman began speaking, and every ear was strained to catch her words. Bess was an expert at public speaking, and at that moment, she was giving the speech of her life, rallying her troops for the defense of their homeland. Her words alone could give them the courage they needed to face a far larger, more sophisticated, better trained, and better armed force.

"I know I have the body of a weak, feeble woman," Elizabeth said, and a small smile twisted her lips at those words. "But I have the heart and stomach of a king!"

The soldiers who surrounded them roared their approval, their shouts ringing from the walls of the ancient fort beside them, so loud that the Spanish in their ships off the coast probably heard them, and Edward hoped it struck fear into their very hearts.

Every one of these men would fight to the death to protect their land, to protect their beloved Queen. They would fight with their farm implements, with rude chunks of wood and sharpened poles, with their very teeth and nails if they must. This woman was the very heart of England, its very lifesblood, and they shouted for her in one voice, a pledge made at the top of their lungs. They would not let the Spanish take this land. Not while a single Englishman breathed.

Edward surveyed their faces, these young men, these old men, these rich, these poor. Men of valor, every one...

Except that one.

He sighed.

Large brown eyes peeped from above an ancient iron helmet's grill, and her slender hands gripped the hilt of a sword she had probably unearthed from the attic, one that had belonged to his great-grandfather Henry VII. She was only wearing parts of the pieces of the armor, because the whole suit had been far too large for her. The chain mail shirt hung down to her knees. Her thighs, clad in a pair of their son's breeches, were covered in the rerebraces, meant to protect a man's upper arm, and the pauldron shoulder plates jutted out into the air, like she was wearing a shelf.

As Bess continued her rousing speech, Edward leaned over to the bizarrely clad "knight" and said, "Bella, get off the horse."

"No," she said.

"Bella, you're not going into battle."

She looked at him and raised a brow. "If you are, I am."

Edward woke.

For a long moment, he was deeply confused, trying to remember where he was. His mind swam through the cobweb strands of the dream, searching for reality. He sat up, looking around his bedroom.

It had been the richest, most vivid dream of his life. It had felt like he was there.

Why was this happening to him? Why was he seeing these things, imagining himself and Bella in situations and places they had never been? Was it reading the books and plays that had fired his imagination? Had the elders been right about these things being the doorway to idle fancies? Perhaps he should speak to one of them.

But he didn't want them to end. He wanted to see more and figure out what was happening. To see where the story led.

He slung off the sheets and swung his feet out of the bed. Bella wasn't beside him. He could hear rattling around downstairs, so she was already up, preparing the morning meal. His wife ...

He smiled, remembering the night before. His wife in all respects, now. And he couldn't help but feel a little proud of that fact.

He stood and stretched, feeling fine. The looking glass revealed a silly grin on his face, but he didn't care. He reached to pour some water in the washstand, and something caught his eye, a glimmer of gold. On the table was that hated locket Bella wore all the time, the one with the letter "C" in emeralds that reminded him of her previous husband every time he saw it. He was pleased she wasn't wearing it. Maybe last night had -

He picked it up and as he did, his thumb pressed against the catch and it popped open. It was a locket. Curious, he pushed open the cover and nearly dropped the thing in his surprise.

Inside was a painting of himself.

~.~


Notes:

- Thatched roofs began to be phased out in 1635 in favor of shingled roofs. Thatched roofs were a fire hazard.

- The story of Maushop and the Sea Woman is a slightly altered version of a Wôpanâak legend. There are dozens of versions of the stories of Maushop. He was the creator of Cape Cod according to the Wôpanâak, shaping the bay and creating islands by throwing things into the sea. His wife was a woman named Squant or Squannit. In some versions, she was a Sea Woman. In other versions, she was an ordinary lady who bore him many children. (In one version I saw, it was Squant's children he threw into the sea and they turned into orcas, reflecting their father's taste for whale meat.) The legend of Squant turned into tales of "Granny Squannit" who punished bad children, but left gifts and did favors for good children. She was said to have black hair she grew long to cover eyes that were scarred from an enemy's knife, or to conceal a single eye in the center of her forehead.

- Tisquantum, or "Squanto" as he's known in American history, actually died in 1622, but I've kept him alive for purposes of this story. He had been kidnapped by English explorers in 1605 and taken to England where he was trained as an interpreter by Sir Ferdinando Gorges (mentioned in notes for Chapter 3). He was taken back to the New World in 1614, but was kidnapped again, this time by an explorer who sent him to Spain, intending to sell him into slavery. He managed to convince the friars - who had rescued the captives and were trying to convert them to Catholicism - to send him home, so they sent him to London, where he managed to finally get passage on a ship back to New England in 1619. There, he discovered that his people had been completely wiped out by the plague. Tisquantum put his skills as a translator to work and began to build trade agreements between the local tribes and the settlers.

- The bundle of arrows arrived in 1621 and was the reason why the palisade fence was built.