Cate of the Lost Colony (20 page)

Chapter 33

A Daring Rescue

I
t was not long after our arrival in Nantioc when I realized why Jane and I had been adopted along with the Croatoan women. Because so many had been killed by smallpox and fevers, the men needed wives. Takiwa and Mika would have their choice of husbands.

Jane and Betty were also desirable to the men. The Indians favored a meek demeanor in a wife, and Betty had become passive and timid because of her ordeal. Her damaged hand was healing, and she was young enough to bear more children. Jane Pierce’s belly proclaimed her fruitfulness, a trait that men in every part of the world wanted in a wife. She was treated like a princess about to bear an heir to the throne. She seemed almost contented in Nantioc. I had once read of mariners who were taken captive, and the weak-minded among them became so dependent upon their captors that they no longer sought their release. But Jane was far from weak-minded. She was practical, like Emme, and determined.

As for me, I hoped my black hair was too common to attract much interest. Or that I was deemed unsuitable because I spoke too much, translating everything necessary. Yet I had seen Wanchese regard me, if not with lust, then like someone eyeing a prize taken in battle. And Manteo’s brief warning had confirmed what I suspected: Wanchese intended to make me his third wife.

“We must discourage the men from wanting to marry us,” I said to Jane and Betty. “I will tell Sobaki we have husbands already.”

“But we don’t have husbands, and Betty is probably a widow. No one cares enough to rescue us,” Jane said bitterly. “Certainly not Roger Bailey, though I am carrying his child.”

“Thomas Graham is a true friend of mine,” I said. “If he had known we were here, he would have come to our aid. Now Manteo has gone to bargain for our release. I trust him to free us.”

Betty looked doubtful, and despair clouded her face at the talk of husbands. She could not accept that Ambrose had stolen away in the pinnace, leaving her behind.

“Please do not give any man a look of encouragement,” I pleaded. “Seem sullen and unwilling.”

Jane persisted. “What if we are not rescued? We will need to make a life here. I believe these people will welcome my child. And they have a midwife to deliver me safely. Our fate could be worse.”

“You would be content to remain among savages?” Betty asked in disbelief.

“Some of them are fine looking, in their way, and capable hunters, like Tameoc,” Jane replied. “And I do not see them mistreating their women or children.”

“But they are not Christians,” Betty said.

“They saved your life and brought you to Nantioc,” I reminded her. “Like the good Samaritan in the parable. I think ‘savage’ is too harsh a word, even for our enemies. They live in an organized manner, with meaningful customs and rituals. They can be kind and generous; they know how to heal wounds and make food from the most unlikely plants and animals.”

I smiled, realizing I sounded like one of John White’s notebooks. Truthfully, I felt a deep affection for Mika and Takiwa and a growing appreciation even for Sobaki. I understood how Tameoc made choices in order to safeguard his kin and provide for them. And Manteo—why, every day I longed for his return. Even though we hardly spoke, his presence made me feel safer in Nantioc. But I had no desire to stay there, for I missed the familiarity of life at the fort, and though we had quarreled, I missed Eleanor and her child.

Jane was regarding me with raised eyebrows. “Cate, you must admit that Lord Manteo is a most proper man. I have seen the way you look at him when you think no one is watching. In fact, you were thinking of him just now.”

I reached out to put my hand over Jane’s mouth. “Hush now, that’s hardly the point—”

But Jane would not be silent. “It was noble of him to give himself for Alice’s freedom, but he did it to be with you. Certainly you can see this if I can.”

“Now are you both talking about
marrying
savages?” said Betty slowly. Her bemused tone made us burst out in laughter.

It was no matter for comedy, however, when Wanchese began to court me with small favors: a necklace of shells, an ornament for my hair. Each of his gifts I accepted but laid aside without wearing. I was afraid he would touch me or make me lie with him. Every day I dreaded some preparation would begin for the unwelcome ceremony where I would become his wife. It was worse than serving the most fickle queen and waiting for her next demand.

Two weeks had passed since Manteo’s departure, and my uneasiness was rising to a pitch when I finally approached Sobaki.

“
I have no wish to take Wanchese’s affections from you
,” I said.

“
He does not care for your wishes or for mine,
” Sobaki said. “
A weroance may take whatever woman he pleases.
”

I tried another strategy. “
I am considered proud and troublesome by my own people. It may be a wayward spirit within me.
”

Sobaki understood this, but to my dismay, she brought in a conjurer. His head was shaved except for a crest from his forehead to the nape of his neck, and he had a small black bird fastened over one ear like a badge. He wore nothing but the pelt of a fox, face and all, over his loins.

“
She has an evil spirit, and Wanchese will not be pleased with her until it is cast out
,” Sobaki explained to him. “
It is a strong one, so it will take much time.
”

The conjurer began to sway and chant as if he were casting a spell. He grew more animated, and his clapping and capering put me in mind of the queen’s fool Dick Tarleton. Suddenly his eyes rolled up in his head and he sank to the ground in a trance. When he came to himself again, he seemed disappointed to see me unchanged.

Sobaki, too, regarded me. I could see she did not believe I had a demon. “
We will try again another day
,” she said, smiling at me.

I felt like a prisoner granted a reprieve.

The very next day, the storm of violence broke over Nantioc like a tempest conjured out of the air.

Jane and I were sitting with Mika and Takiwa, and I was letting out the seams of Jane’s dress to accommodate her growing belly. Jane was wrapped in deerskins and remarking what a tolerable and easy way it was to dress, when Ananias and Ambrose Vickers walked into the village. They were wearing armor but holding their weapons loosely at their sides. I clapped my hand to my mouth, stifling a cry of surprise. Manteo was with them, as were Wanchese’s men who had gone to Fort Ralegh. At once they were surrounded by tense and uncertain Nantioc warriors.

“Betty, come quickly!” said Jane, but Ambrose had already spotted his wife. He broke away from Wanchese’s men and ran to her. She dropped the water gourd she was carrying and with a loud cry fell into his arms.

Apparently startled, or thinking he was defending Betty, one of the Nantioc warriors grabbed a musket and pointed it at Ambrose. Upon seeing the gun, Betty screamed again while Ambrose sheltered her with his body.

“
Peace! We have not come to fight
,” said Manteo.

But the Indian, whether by accident or intention, fired the musket. The ball struck Ambrose’s armor, spinning him out of Betty’s arms. A high-pitched wailing rose from the Nantioc warriors, like a call to arms. At the same moment there was a burst of gunfire from outside the palisade. The warriors within drew their bows and fitted them with arrows. Wanchese came running, a knife in his hand. Takiwa and Mika darted away. I pulled Jane to the ground and we hid behind a heavy log. Explosions of musket fire seemed to come from all around, and a ball struck the log. Jane buried her head in my hair. Her ragged breath was hot in my ear.

English and Algonkian voices mingled in my ears with the sound of blows and cries of agony. I peered over the log to see Graham and half a dozen Englishmen firing on the Nantioc warriors. Tameoc had joined the battle, taking our side. To my amazement, the Indians were fighting each other. The ones who had gone with Manteo were now fighting against the Nantioc warriors loyal to Wanchese. Had Manteo turned his guards into his allies?

Not thirty feet away from me, Manteo and Wanchese faced each other, crouching and ready to spring. Wanchese brandished his knife, Manteo an axe. Wanchese’s scarred face was twisted with rage, while Manteo’s was tense and alert. Wanchese lunged; the taller Manteo jumped nimbly aside.

“
You are a traitor to your people and Kewasa will punish you
,” Wanchese said, panting. Kewasa was their malevolent god.

“
I brought the English and their weapons as I promised
,” said Manteo almost as if he were taunting his opponent.

Wanchese thrust with his knife, slashing Manteo’s arm, and Manteo responded with a swing of his hatchet, the flat blade hitting Wanchese’s shoulder and barely missing his neck.

His rage growing, Wanchese said, “
You made my men betray me.
”

“
No, they turned against you because you are a tyrant
,” Manteo countered. “
Throw down your weapon and let us parley. If you kill me, the English will kill you.
”

Wanchese hesitated before unleashing a series of blows so swift I could hardly follow his movements. He kicked Manteo, who whirled around but stayed on his feet. I saw he meant to fight to the death. Red stripes on Manteo’s trunk and legs dripped blood into the dirt. He staggered and it seemed he would fall. Wanchese tensed his knife arm to stab again, but in that instant Manteo lifted himself up and landed his axe on Wanchese’s skull with a loud crack. Together they fell to the ground, writhing and groaning. I covered my mouth to suppress a scream.

Wanchese’s skull was split open and spilling blood. He lay motionless; there was so much blood he had to be dead. The battle was now over. Two Englishmen lay on the ground, arrows protruding from them. One was John Chapman. Almost a dozen Indians were dead or wounded. The six who had become Manteo’s allies stood with their eyes fixed on the two bloody figures in the dust.

Manteo had not moved either. My stomach tightened. After all he had risked to bring about our rescue, to see him bleeding in the dirt! I felt tears cloud my sight. I remembered how proud he looked when John White gave him his robe of office, how firm he stood when the assistants showed prejudice and mistrust. I remembered his warnings about Dasemunkepeuc, his steady vigilance, and his promise of rescue. He had fulfilled that promise, and now he might die. I had done nothing to deserve his sacrifice.

Get up, Manteo!
With my thoughts I willed him to rise.
You must not die like this.

Graham and Ananias knelt at Manteo’s side and leaned close to him. Then they nodded to each other. He was alive! They lifted him by the shoulders until he was sitting.

“Jane, go fetch water,” I said. Tearing her dress that I had been mending into strips, I ran toward Manteo and crouched beside him.

His eyes fluttered open. They were unfocused. “Moon … Maiden,” he murmured.

Perhaps I looked like the moon with my pale, round face hovering over his. Most likely he was half dreaming. I was so glad to hear him breathe and speak I put my hand to his cheek. “Thank you, Lord Manteo,” I whispered.

Thank you for not dying. Thank you for coming back.

When Sobaki realized that Wanchese was past help, she came and tended to Manteo’s wounds. None were deep enough to endanger him. In a week he was well enough to lead negotiations. Wanchese’s supporters had either been killed or had run away, and the rest submitted to Manteo as their chief. He appointed one of the elders to govern Nantioc. To show their appreciation for these new allies, Ananias offered three muskets and various trinkets in exchange for us. He and the assistants showed a new respect to Manteo, treating him as their equal.

I spent much time pondering that confused battle, the memory of which made my heart pound. Would fighting have broken out if the warrior had not seized the musket and fired at Ambrose? But the soldiers outside were so quick to respond they must have expected a battle. Manteo had called for peace, but he had fought in earnest, taking our side without hesitation. Was it for my sake, or did he also want Wanchese dead? And who was the Moon Maiden? I longed to ask Manteo but was too overcome by my debt to him. Perhaps there would be time later, and then I would know what to say.

A few days after the battle, Jane took me aside. She still wore deerskins, since I had torn up her dress.

“I’m sorry I ruined your clothes,” I said. “I shall make you a new bodice and skirt once we get home.”

Jane smiled ruefully. “It is too late.”

“I’ll make it to fit after the babe is born,” I said.

“No, Cate, that is not what I mean.” She sighed. “Did you see how Ambrose Vickers and all the men looked at me? I am an object of disgust and scorn to them,” she said, her lips starting to tremble. “I have made myself an outcast by this”—she pointed to her belly—“and I shall forever remain one to men like Vickers and Bailey.”

“You can live with me. When we go to Chesapeake, I will have my own house, and you and I shall share it,” I pleaded.

“Oh, I should be so glad!” she said. “But I fear I would not be happy, even there. For I think …” She looked down shyly. “I think Tameoc favors me.”

I remembered Jane praising Tameoc once before. Manteo had made him one of the councilors of Nantioc. He might become a leader now that Wanchese was dead. Jane could do far worse than marry Tameoc. Still, to abandon English ways and live the rest of her life among Indians? I knew I could not do it.

“Would you stay here, Jane? Would you leave your other life altogether?”

“I might,” she said.

The day came when we were to depart for Roanoke. I said my bittersweet good-byes to Mika and Takiwa, who had chosen to stay in Nantioc with their kin. When Jane embraced me, I knew she had made her decision. I clung to her as she had clung to me when we were first captured. Then she needed me; now I felt I needed her. As much as I wanted to see Eleanor again, I knew I would miss Jane even more.