Riverbreeze: Part 3 (45 page)

“What is wrong?” Elizabeth asked.

“Nothing.” He replied, confident of his answer. “Anyway,” He continued, “Opecancanough was clever, but not clever enough. His plan was to wipe out the colony, drive out the English and take his land back. There had been peace between the settlers and the savages for months previously; in fact a treaty had been ratified and sworn between the two parties and a plaque had been stamped and fixed to a great Oak tree of Opecancanough’s choosing. Relations were friendly and the settlers welcomed the savages into their homes and entertained them at their tables. They worked in the fields together, hunted and traded with each other and the English confidently thought the Indians would soon convert to Christianity, their true purpose. It was all a ruse on Opecancanough’s part.

That fateful morning, he directed all his warriors to spread up and down the river to all the settlements and act like they had always acted: friendly. They didn’t even carry any weapons to reveal their heinous plan, instead bringing deer, turkeys, fish or furs as if giving a gift or to trade.”

“How did they kill the settlers then?” Elizabeth asked quickly.

“They used the settlers’ own implements. If a savage was invited to breakfast, he used his hosts’ own knife to stab the members of the family when they least expected it. If a savage went to help in the field, he used a hoe or axe or pitchfork.” He paused while Elizabeth made a small noise of distress.

“How awful.” She murmured. “Those poor people, lured into believing the Indians were peaceful and friendly.”

“Bloody bastards.” Dolnick muttered under his breath.

Robert nodded once at him. “And then, the savages, inhumane and perfidious as they were, were not even content with their mere deaths! As is their custom of bringing home trophies, they fell upon their victims again, defacing them, mangling their dead bodies, hacking them into pieces and dragging the parts away in triumph.”

“Oh!” Elizabeth cried out, clearly distressed.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth.” Robert reached out to hold her hand. “I shouldn’t have included that last part.”

“What happened afterwards?” Dolnick asked, caught up in the story.

Robert looked at him. He couldn’t remember if Dolnick had been in the colony for last year’s anniversary and already knew what happened or if he just wanted to hear it again. Either way, Robert decided to yield to him and he also decided that Elizabeth should know the outcome as well. “Well, Jamestown was spared because an Indian youth simply called Perry’s Indian, because he worked for William Perry, had warned the man he lived with, a man named Richard Pace. The night before the assault the youth’s brother joined him at Pace’s house and told him of the plans to attack the next morning. The youth, caught in the middle, decided to side with Pace and warn him rather than kill him. Early the next morning, Pace traveled across the river to Jamestown and the surrounding settlements and gave the alarm. At the sight of the fort all closed up tight and guns and cannons at the ready, the savages ran away rather than risk their own lives...”

“Thank God for that Indian youth.” Elizabeth commented. “Do you believe Owasewas would warn us if another attack was forthcoming?”

Robert gasped.
What made her think of that?
Not wanting to alarm her, however, he calmly said, “I believe he would, but there isn’t going to be another attack. Now, let me finish my tale.”

“I’m sorry.” She said.

He accepted her apology with a tender smile. “Anyway, there were other stories of bravery and resistance. A Mr. Baldwin defended his home, his wife and others at his house by repeatedly firing his gun at the savages. They also ran away; and at another house a half mile away, Captain Ralph Hamor defended himself and his household until the Indians gave up and retreated. It seemed that if the Indians were able to strike without warning, they prevailed, but if the English fought back, they retreated like the cowards they truly are…”
So, when they come, I must fight back
. Robert thought.
And not hesitate just because I may know them.

He continued, “For weeks afterwards, the Indians continued their assaults, but we were relentless in our policy to hunt down every Indian we could find, to destroy their villages and to cripple their capacity to make war. And despite losing one third of the population, we never admitted defeat. Already there were three ships from England on the James carrying more settlers and supplies. Their numbers dwindled while ours increased with each new ship...” Robert’s voice trailed off, tired of the tale. On one hand, he was sympathetic to the Indian’s plight; on the other hand, he believed that the English were meant to have this land. God had decreed it.

There was a moment of silence as everyone absorbed this information. Robert noticed that Robin wasn’t affected by this story of treachery and murder, and that was a relief. The lad’s face and hands were smeared with honey and crumbs—he was a mess!—which made Robert smile.

“My son needs his face washed.” He commented lightly, but just when he was about to rise to get a wet rag, he heard something and stopped short. “Did you hear that?” He held his breath, listening. Maybe he was wrong about the date.

“No, I didn’t hear anything.” Elizabeth said.

The others said ‘no’ as well.

“Oh.” Robert finally said when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He let out his breath. “’Tis only Jamie.”

Presently Jamie poked his head through the kitchen doorway, saying, “Good morning. I’m going to check on the horses. I’ll be right back.”

Robert waved him off, and proceeded to the water barrel, commenting, “Jamie would sleep in the barn if Evelyn would allow him to.”

“She says all he ever thinks about is the new foal.” Elizabeth said.

“I heard that!” Jamie said loudly from the back door.

Robert and Elizabeth exchanged an amused look, but that look soon turned to horror.

They heard him greet the dogs in the hallway, then the back door open, then Jamie exclaim, “Owasewas!”

“Owasewas!” Robert gasped, apprehension filling him. He called out to his brother. “Jamie, is he here to warn us?” This was it! This was the warning, or…or…he had a sudden sick feeling. Was this the attack? Was Owasewas here to betray them?
Damn it!
He shouldn’t have dismissed that feeling he had had earlier.

Too late.

Robert hurried to the doorway leading into the hall, only to see Owasewas get struck by an arrow directly in the middle of his back, very close to his spine, followed by a second an inch away that came out through the other side. Another hit Jamie high in the shoulder muscle, just above his collar bone. Jamie let out a cry just as Owasewas pitched forward right into him and both crashed to the floor. Seven more arrows in quick succession whistled through the open door and through the hall, some landing in the front door, others skidding along the floor.

“Take Robin and get under the table!” He yelled back to Elizabeth. He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled towards the back door. He had to close it, but the two men’s legs were in the way.

There was a piercing scream from the staircase. “Silence, Evelyn!” He shouted. “Jamie, move your legs.” He ordered, trying to shove his legs away.

“I’m trying.” Jamie grunted. “God, it hurts.”

Owasewas was attempting to push himself up, but his arms wobbled and he collapsed back onto Jamie’s chest.

Sweat poured from Robert’s forehead as he pushed and pulled at Jamie’s and Owasewas’ bodies. They were like dead weights. He had one shoulder behind the door pushing it halfway closed while at the same time tugging at Jamie’s pants legs. “Dolnick!” He shouted. “Come here! Nathan, load the guns! Set them up!” Thank God they always kept a good supply of gunpowder and musket balls in the kitchen.
As soon as we start
shooting, the savages will retreat
, he thought,
but then what?

Dolnick arrived, his face red with anger and determination. Hearing the story of the first massacre had fired him up. “Where are they?” He asked, looking out through the door. With one harsh push he managed to shove Owasewas off of Jamie which allowed Jamie to finally get a good breath in.

“Hide. You not see them.” Owasewas panted, his voice a mere whisper. His face was contorted with pain and he could barely move, but he never made a sound.

Oh God!
Robert swallowed hard. “How many, Owas?”

“Nusswash
.” He breathed.

Oh God! Eight.
“Help me clear the door.” Robert said to Dolnick.

Dolnick didn’t get a chance to clear the door. It was suddenly shoved open, knocking Robert against the wall and pinning him there. Dolnick was caught in plain sight.

There were two of them, two formidable warrior Indians, their faces and torsos painted black and white and red, wearing nothing but buckskin breechclouts, although both were accoutered for war. One had a tomahawk, the other a massive war club. Robert recognized both of them.
Wouldn’t you know it?,
Matchitehew and Askook, Makki’s husband.
Oh God
.

Dolnick went berserk. “You devil savages! You bastards!” He screamed, recklessly charging the Indians with his bare hands.

It all happened so fast. Robert was horrified. What should he do? What
could
he do? He couldn’t fight the Indians without weapons. Even together, he and Dolnick weren’t a match for the savages. But he couldn’t just let Dolnick fight alone.

Matchitehew automatically raised his massive war club with the purpose of bringing it down on Dolnick’s head, but Robert pushed the door hard into the Indian, knocking him off balance. He stumbled sideways, bumping into Askook. Dolnick charged again, crashing into Matchitehew and pushing him back through the door where they both tripped over the steps and crashed to the ground. Askook turned to follow, intent on defending his companion and burying his tomahawk in Dolnick’s back but suddenly two shots blasted through the hallway and Askook went down, two musket ball holes in his strong back.

A quick glance down the hallway confirmed Robert’s assumption. Nathan and Abigail were the shooters, Nathan, the big musket, and Abigail, the pistol. At that point, Robert scrambled up and grabbed Askook’s tomahawk. Askook was still breathing, but barely and not for long. Still, he had enough fight left in him to clench his fingers around the handle of the tomahawk, determined not to give it up. It was a futile effort though; Robert easily wrenched it out of his weakened hand.

For one second, Robert paused to look upon the body of this fallen Indian, once proud, once strong, about to be a father, but only for one second. An image of Makki flashed through his mind and for another second he thought of her and felt sorrow. What would become of her and her baby now?

No time to think of that. Dolnick was still grappling with the other Indian, rolling on the ground, then struggling to their feet only to punch and jab and fall again, each one reaching for the club and always missing, the other kicking it away. Their grunts and cries were interspersed with sounds of fists on flesh and Dolnick’s prolific curses. So far Dolnick was holding his own so Robert made the decision to retrieve the other pistol. A gun shot was quick and impersonal rather than sinking a hatchet into a man’s back, even if it was his enemy. “Nathan, do you have the other pistol loaded?”

“Here.” Nathan said, holding it out.

Robert grabbed it. “Good job.” He said to both Nathan and Abigail.

“Hurry!” Jamie shouted from his position next to the wall. He had finally managed to move away from all the danger. He had also done a stupid thing Robert thought. He had pulled the arrow out and blood soaked the entire front of his shirt.

No time to think about that either. Staying low, Robert rushed to the door and carefully aimed at the savage fighting with Dolnick. They were on the ground again, and Robert had to wait for just the right moment when Dolnick was underneath Matchitehew, covered by his large body. Then, without a moment’s hesitation and a final squeeze of the trigger, he shot the ugly heathen in the back of the head. It wasn’t pretty, but it did the job. The Indian died, nearly smothering Dolnick, who quickly and frantically pushed at the dead body and scrambled up to run, staggering, into the house, trembling and gasping for breath.

At that point, crouching low, Robert quickly scanned his property while he backed up towards the door. Where were the others? Owasewas said they were hiding, but where? Robert knew the Powhatans—and the Pumunkeys since it was obvious that Matchitehew and Pannoowau were part of the war party—were masters at blending into their surroundings, making themselves virtually invisible. Well, they certainly were doing a damn good job because he couldn’t see any of them, those traitorous cowards! It was so frustrating! They could be anywhere, behind the stables, behind the privy, around the side of the house even, and there were trees aplenty. Well, he couldn’t stay out here a second longer giving them a perfect target.

He turned to reenter the house. In that split second, he heard whistling noises behind him, past his ears, over his head. He threw himself through the door but not quick enough. Pain like he had never experienced before exploded through his shoulder, another through his buttock.
Damn!
He was hit twice. “Someone close the bloody door!” He shouted as he dragged himself the rest of the way into the house.