"In order to be counted as a true warrior of our tribe," one of the men, Awekmo, told John as they paddled in a canoe upstream, "You must be able to wield and defend anyone with our weapons. Those guns of yours are just a bit too hard to handle."
John nodded, remaining silent. He was nervous, being his first day in training and all. They had been paddling against the current since sunrise, less than half of an hour ago. Already the muscles in his arms were straining, not being used to paddling a canoe.
They pulled onto a bank about fifteen minutes later. John shook out his arms and the two other men next to him laughed. "You'll get used to it eventually," Kamut, the other warrior, said lightheartedly with a smile. "I remember when I started to train…"
Awekmo rolled his eyes at his friend and walked to the canoe. Out of the bottom he pulled out three wooden bows and a large deerskin quiver of arrows. He handed one to John and Kamut.
"We start with the majestic bow," Awekmo said with a grin.
…oOo…
Pocahontas sat beside her father, idly stroking his hand. She had talked to him all morning, hoping that he could hear her. Seeing her father like this scared her to death, but she had to hope that he would be alright.
The skin door opened and Kamut walked in with a happy look on his face. His hair was slightly wet and had begun to stick to his skin. "I was asked to give you a report on how John's training has been going," he said with a slight bow of his head.
"Aren't you cold? You look sopping wet," Pocahontas said with concern.
Kamut just grinned harder, "The canoe we were in sprung a leak. Awekmo is teaching John to repair it at the moment. Then we are to go hunting. He is doing very well for never holding an arrow in his life." He nodded again and left the room.
Pocahontas sighed. "I hope he can do it," she said quietly out loud, both for herself and for her father.
"I'm sure he'll be able to." Nakoma said. "Don't worry!"
But Pocahontas couldn't help but worry. Just because John was doing well didn't mean he would be accepted. And she was scared.
...oOo...
John wiped the sweat from his forehead as he continued to fix the canoe with sticky tree sap. Even though it was quite cold outside, and John could see his breath ever so slightly, he was about to burn up.
"Are you alright?" Rek, another one of the warriors asked. John nodded.
"Just a little hot, that's all."
"Hey, you'll cool down. Don't worry." Rek said.
John just shrugged. He knew Rek, Awekmo, and Kamut were only trying to be his friends, but John wondered if he could ever really belong there. Sure, even if he was accepted into the village, that didn't mean the villagers themselves would accept him. Not all of them at least. Many of them still believed him to be a murderer.
John shuddered at the memory. It hadn't been his fault, and yet many people believed it had been.
As soon as the sap had dried and hardened, they were off. They went down river this time, sticking close to the banks. Not to far from the village they stopped and Rek pulled out spears from the bottom of the boat.
"Now we'll work on throwing the spear." Awekmo said. John silently groaned. He could already tell this wasn't going to end well. Then again, he had thought the same thing about the bow and arrow, and he had turned out to be pretty good at that.
"OK, John, this is all you do." Rek said, picking up a spear. He held it in his hands. Then he brought his arm back and let the spear fly through the air. It landed a good twenty feet from them. Rek turned back to him. "Now you try."
John took a deep breath and picked up a spear. He drew back his hand and sent the spear flying.
It hit a tree about ten feet away.
"Not bad." Kamut said. "When I first started, the thing fell out of my hands and landed about two feet from me!"
"I remember that." Awekmo said. "You almost killed me!"
Kamut rolled his eyes at his friend. "I think that's enough with the spear. It's apparent that you're as good with it as you are with the bow. Now let's work on sharpening a knife."
Awekmo brought out two stones. Carefully, he began to chip at the sides of the flint stone. He handed the stones to John.
"Here. Just do what I did." John glanced at the others before he finally sighed, shrugged, and started to work on the knife.
...oOo...
Pocahontas knelt beside her father. He had woken up. Finally, finally, he had woken up.
"Pocahontas," Powhatan said. "When I first became sick, did I dream this, or did you tell me that John has returned?"
Pocahontas smiled and shook her head. "No, Father, you weren't dreaming. John's back."
"Where is he?" Powhatan asked. He knew that Pocahontas and John were inseparable, and if John was back, where was he?
"The elders don't trust him." Pocahontas sighed. "And they're testing him. Awekmo, Rek, and Kamut are helping John learn to be a warrior, so that he can prove he has a warrior's heart."
"Why would he need to prove himself? He's done that already!" Powhatan said.
"I know, but Hakia wasn't convinced." Pocahontas said. She smiled. "But things are going well. He uses a bow as if he's been using one his whole life, and they're teaching him to mend a canoe and to paddle one, too. I only hope it lasts."
"Everything will be fine, daughter. John's strong, and I know he'll prove himself."
"I know you're right." Pocahontas agreed. "And I'm very glad you're feeling better."
"As am I." Powhatan said. Suddenly, Awekmo ran into the hut.
"Awekmo? What's wrong?" Pocahontas asked.
"Where's Kekata?"
"At the river. Why? What's wrong?" Pocahontas answered.
"Well, we were showing John how to sharpen a knife, and after it was finished, somehow it slipped and cut John's palm…deep."
Pocahontas looked at her father, who nodded, and she ran off towards the river. She scanned the crowd for John, and Kekata as well.
She spotted John first. His left hand was clenched in a fist, and Pocahontas could see that his other hand was a bit bloody.
"John!" She cried as she ran to him.
John looked up, and Pocahontas could see the pain in his eyes, but she saw triumph as well.
"John, let me see." She commanded. John slowly opened his fist with a hiss and Pocahontas could see the gash in his hand. It went all the way across his palm, and it was fairly deep.
"John, we have to get you to Kekata's!" Pocahontas said.
"It's alright." John said. "But I agree."
She helped him to stand up without the use of his hand and they walked towards the river. Blood dripped onto the hard packed dirt as they walked. John managed to keep a calm face, but Pocahontas saw the pain he felt in his eyes. She squeezed his good hand in support and kept walking.
Kekata wasn't very far up the river. When they reached him, he was bent over gathering herbs. He stood at the sound of footsteps behind him. "Pocahontas, John," he said in greeting, a bit of surprised betrayed in his voice. "What work have you brought for me?"
"John cut his hand sharpening a knife. It looks pretty deep." Pocahontas tried to keep her worry out of her voice. Worry for John's hand, worry for his acceptance, worry for their relationship.
Kekata walked over and took John's cut hand. He gazed intently into it and gave a bit of a smile. "It's not as bad as it looks. We'll have to wash it out with special leaves when we get back to the village; it will sting just a bit, but we need to clean it before infection can set in. Until we get back, rip a strip off of your shirt and tie it around your hand. You don't want to loose too much blood."
John did as he was told, tying the strip off with a secure knot. Pocahontas let out a sigh as she helped Kekata carry some of the herbs he had found. Maybe things would go ok after all. If his hand wasn't that bad, that wouldn't stop John from training to be a warrior. Nothing would stop John, she thought with a small smile.
They arrived at the village and walked to Kekata's home. Pocahontas was about to step in when John held out his arm to stop her, the one with the good hand. Pocahontas looked into his eyes, thoroughly confused. "I'll be fine," he said with a slight smile, "You don't have to come in. Here, I'll take those herbs for you."
"Ok," Pocahontas said with a slightly weird look, "Are you sure you're ok?"
John nodded, taking the herbs in his uninjured hand and walking into the home. Pocahontas seemed to take the drift and she walked away. John sighed, I don't want her to worry about me anymore. This will be nothing, but if she sees any trace of pain in my face, she'll start to worry about it even more. I don't want to do that to her.
Kekata had John sit down as he grabbed the herbs he needed. He mixed them with water in a small bowl. As quickly as his old and wise body could manage, Kekata sat down next to John and carefully peeled the strip of clothing off of his hand. He poured the contents of the bowl onto the cut, washing it deep into it.
John cringed, both from the smell of the herb and its sting. This does sting, John thought as Kekata finished pouring the water over his hand, but I can honestly say that I've have worse.
They rapped up the hand with a bandage and John stood, helping Kekata to do the same. He walked out of the house to Pocahontas. She smiled at him and he smiled back.
Awekmo walked up to them, relief showing from his eyes. "The warriors have decided that you need some time to let your hand heal, so we will resume training tomorrow. I hope that you don't mind." He winked at John.
John smiled and threw up his hands, "Whatever am I going to do with the time to eat a proper meal and have a more-than-full night's rest! This is an outrage!"
Awekmo, Pocahontas, and John all burst out laughing. "Like I said," Awekmo said a minute later, "I'll get you in the morning for training."
John nodded and Pocahontas slid her hand into his. They walked towards the fire, hands swinging between them.
-nervous laughter- Ah heh. Hi, guys!
Sorry it took a while to update this story. My bad. Me and Sophie kinda left this story alone after I became obsessed with Meet the Robinsons, but I've vowed to keep it going, unlike our Hammy story, which was lost to cyberspace forever...
Anyway, please review!
-Robin