Dangerous Dreams: A Novel (36 page)

BOOK: Dangerous Dreams: A Novel
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The darkening gray sky melded with a narrow band of dirty, faded blue dotted with puffy pink clouds that seemed to float on the western horizon, where the endless black sea had just swallowed the sun’s last, shrinking rays. Rising into the thickening darkness, the dragon head on the ship’s prow seemed to search the horizon and point the way for the pilot at the tiller. And except for small spaces at the stem and stern, the entire deck was covered by a red- and white-striped tent, its ridge pole extending fore and aft with lingering drops of rainwater occasionally dripping from its sides.

Other men sat under the tent engaged in various endeavors: some sharpening swords and axes, some eating or drinking, a few fishing, some staring forward at the horizon, some staring aft toward home, and some watching the school of porpoises that followed the ship. One man, who was dressed more richly than the others, strummed a six-string, two-inch-thick, oblong instrument about three feet long with rounded ends. One end was hollowed out inside, leaving a two-inch-wide perimeter frame, to form an empty space where the strings were strummed. Another man accompanied him with a thin, hollowed-out-bone flute.

All of the men wore knee-length tunics and cloth pants covered by fur leggings which were held in place by spirals of ribbon wrapped from the ankles to the knees, and a few wore round metal helmets with nose plates in front. Tryggvi, Bjarni, and Hefnir sat in the front section of the ship, just inside the tent, engaged in animated discussion, occasionally pointing at the map.

Tryggvi said, “If the Skraeling stories are true, there will be many portages before we reach the largest freshwater seas. But first, my friends, we must find the bay. And I think we’ve drifted a little south of course, so”— he looked at Bjarni and Hefnir—“ do you think you can find it if we make landfall on the coast to the south?”

The two nodded. Bjarni said, “Aye. The huts and fortifications will still be there, and it’s a unique-looking place with a large island in the entrance to the bay, so you have to sail north or south of it to enter the bay and reach the river. Also, the camp was on the north tip of the island, on a long
peninsula that runs northeast from the west side of the island—an unusually long and straight peninsula . . . like my poker.” He pointed between his legs, smiling proudly. “Then you have to—”

Tryggvi and Hefnir snickered at one another.

Bjarni pretended surprise. “What? What’s so funny?”

Tryggvi said, “It must be a very short island, indeed, if it looks
your
poker, Bjarni.” He punched Bjarni’s shoulder as all three burst into laughter. “Go on.”

“Well, the mouth of the river is at the northwest corner of the bay.”

Hefnir said, “The river flows into the bay from the southwest; so we go upstream and then portage a great waterfall before we find the first freshwater sea, which is smaller than the others. And after that, all the seas are connected by short rivers until we reach the last, largest sea, which extends back up to the northwest . . . I think. Everything
was
on the map, but as you’ve seen, it’s too faded and smudged to be of much use. Besides, I think Albrikt was drunk when he made it; and remember, all the directions were from the Skraelings, and none of them had ever seen a map, so . . .”

“Well,” Tryggvi said, “I’m still undecided whether it’s best to explore Vinland or find the freshwater seas. How many days’ sail to Vinland from the bay camp?”

Bjarni said, “At least four days south with good wind, and . . .”

The scene vanished.

Chapter 10

A
nanias Dare, Thomas Colman, and George Howe sat on stools in front of Colman’s cottage. Though the brutal summer temperatures had begun migrating toward those of fall, it was still too hot and humid to sit close to a fire; so the three sat some ten feet from the flames, dark shadows and firelight comingling on their faces in a primitive, wavy dance.

Ananias said, “But Thomas, there are too many angry Savages between here and the main for us to simply sneak our way there undetected. They watch our every movement. No, I think going to the Chesapeake was the right decision . . . the
only
decision. The governor spent a winter with the Chesapeakes on the last expedition and found them friendly and helpful, as did our recent emissaries. On the other hand, we know nothing of the tribes in the main; and even if we successfully bypass the belligerent tribes along the river, who knows what we’ll find there? No, Chesapeake was the only real choice. And don’t forget that the Chesapeake
is
where Raleigh granted our charter and acreage. ’Twould be rather presumptuous of us to think we can take our charter and settle wherever we please. Again, Chesapeake was the correct choice.”

Colman shook his head. “I understand, Ananias, and I basically agree with the vote, but going somewhere other than where the governor
thinks
we’re going is risky, makes me wonder if he’ll find us when he returns.”

George Howe said, “But didn’t he know we might go to Chesapeake when he left?”

“Aye, he did,” Ananias replied, “and I think we’ve devised a foolproof plan to inform him of our decision, one that follows his instructions precisely.”

Colman frowned. “But, Ananias, that’s the part that worries me. There’s no such thing as a
foolproof
plan . . . something can always go awry. And leaving carvings that imply we went to Croatan Island instead of Chesapeake will send him in the wrong direction . . . and what if misfortune overcomes the three people we leave on Croatan Island, and there’s no one there to guide him to our Chesapeake village? In that case, he’d have to rely on the Croatans; but they’ll know only our
general
whereabouts, and that’s no different from telling him we went to Chesapeake in the first place. So you see, there’s a risk, my friend, and I’d prefer we simply tell him we went to Chesapeake in the first place and then let him locate the village when he arrives there.”

“Well, I agree there is a slight risk, Thomas, but there’s always
some
risk in everything. However, with only modest luck, at least
one
of the three at Croatan will be alive to show the governor
exactly
where we are. Think about it. He may return as soon as three months from now”—he counted on his fingers—“and certainly no later than seven or eight months from now. So really, how much can happen to the three at Croatan in so short a time?”

“But, Sir,” George said, “though I have no vote, I agree with Master Colman. Why not simply tell him we’re going to Chesapeake?”

Ananias said, “Here’s why. Who knows where we and the Chesapeakes will be when the governor finally arrives? What if it
is
eight months, or longer, before he returns? Their territory is large, and we may move. Why send him searching all over Virginia when he can simply sail down to Croatan Island, a safe place he knows well, pick up the three men, and sail directly to our exact location? By the bye, thanks to Manteo, the Croatans have already agreed to let our three men live with them until John returns.”

“But how will those three know where we—”

Ananias nodded. “Well, since we’re moving people and supplies to Chesapeake over a period of days, we’ll take the three Croatan volunteers up to the Chesapeake village on one of the early voyages. We’ll then take them down to Croatan Island on the return voyage. ’Tis only a short distance south of here and not far out of the way. So all three will know exactly where the new village is; and if for some reason we and the Chesapeakes move from that location to another, we’ll simply leave John a message at
the first location telling him where we’ve gone, or we can sail the pinnace down to Croatan and tell the three people where to find the new site. Thus”—he looked at Colman and George—“ if ill befalls one, or even two, of the three, someone will still know our exact location . . . and the Croatans will know our general location. By the way, we’ll carve the word
Croatoan
, rather than
Croatan
, here at Roanoke, since that’s what the governor knows it by, even though ’tis incorrect. And as Roger promised the governor, we’ll carve it on a palisade post here in the village and on that large tree on the pathway from the shore.”

“Well,” Colman said, “though I see the logic of it, it also worries me that we’re not leaving a cross of distress by the word
Croatoan
. He told us to do so if we leave in danger—emphasized it, in fact—and”—his voice suddenly cracked with emotion—“and I
do
believe we’re in danger.” His eyes sparkled with sudden tears; he blinked, looked away, rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, gentlemen, thinking of Emily . . .”

George’s eyes misted, as well, as he and Ananias waited for Colman to regain his composure.

When he looked back, Colman said, “My apologies.”

“None needed,” Ananias said. “We share your feelings about Emily.”

Colman continued. “Anyway, I think we should carve crosses by the words.”

“I agree,” George said.

“Well,” Ananias replied, “I can’t disagree that we’re leaving in distress, but I also agree with Roger and the majority that by the time the governor returns, we’ll be out of danger and safely settled with the Chesapeakes. So why unnecessarily alarm him and, more importantly, the new colonists with him. Think about it; if they get off the ship
here
and find crosses of distress, they’ll be terrified, probably reboard immediately and sail back to England.”

Colman nodded slowly. “Hmm. Well, I can’t disagree with
that
logic, but—” He saw Elyoner and Virginia approaching. “ Elyoner. Here, take my seat.” He rose, pointed at the stool.

“No, Thomas, sit down. I came to see how my best friend fares. Here, Ananias, hold Virginia while I visit her. Any change?”

Allie’s heart fluttered, raced with excitement.

“None,” Colman said. “Let’s go inside and sit by her. ’Tis cooler now, and time to bathe her wounds.

The three men lifted their stools, followed Elyoner inside, then set them near the doorway to enjoy the light breeze that drifted in from outside.

Colman went to the bucket, poured some water into a bowl, and started tearing two-inch strips of cloth for bandages. George collected three candles and set them beside Emily, who lay unconscious on her bed at the rear of the cottage. She had a sheet over her body, and her forearms and head were completely covered with bandages that had several red splotches where blood had seeped through.

Elyoner knelt beside her then looked at Colman. “I think the bleeding’s slowed, don’t you agree, Thomas?”

“Aye, but not enough.” He handed the water and bandages to Elyoner, turned away, rubbed his eyes. Seeing his vibrant daughter helpless, battered, and nearly dead tore at his heart like a hungry wild beast. Normally a reserved, dispassionate man, he struggled to contain his emotions; had remained by her side, leaving only for the most necessary matters; prayed as never before while she clung to life by the thinnest of threads. Even now, when she appeared to be improving, he couldn’t escape the horrible guilt of having caused her suffering and near death solely for his own gratification. He’d been a selfish fool, and though he hadn’t told anyone, he’d resolved to return to England at the first opportunity, even if his wife and son arrived with White and had to immediately reboard the ship to sail home.

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