Riverbreeze: Part 3 (49 page)

He ran ahead, but had trouble opening the gate. The one unencumbered woman came over to help him.

“Your boy?” She asked.

“Yes, his name is Robin.” Robert answered, approaching the gate. “We’re the Bassetts; I’m Robert, my wife, Elizabeth, her sister, Evelyn and my sister, Abigail.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Robert noticed Elizabeth giving him a sharp look, but he ignored her. He knew Abigail needed protection in a place like this, full of strange men; and he was positive that folks who knew them would go along with the deception for her sake.

The fresh-faced girl greeted them, introducing herself as Lucy Digges, then turned her attention to Robin who was still wrestling with the latch. “Hello, Robin. Would you like to play with the other children?” She asked, her smile warm and friendly.

He jumped up and down. “Yes, please!” He chirped.

She smiled at him, impressed by his manners. “Come in, then.” As she opened the gate she looked back at Robert. “Worry not, he’ll be fine here.” She said, and then she took Robin by the hand and led him to the group of children.

“I wanted to say good bye.” Robert said softly, upset that Robin had walked away without a backwards glance.

“You’ll see him tonight,” Elizabeth said, patting his back. “And tomorrow morning before you go.”

He shook his head, realizing how silly he was acting and forced a smile. “You’re right. You’ll be fine here?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes.” She turned to her sister and Abigail, including them. “We’ll all be fine.”

“Will you tell Jamie where I am when you see him?” Evelyn asked.

“I’ll tell him.” Robert said, touching Evelyn’s arm reassuringly.

“Thank you, Robert…brother.” Abigail said softly. “God be with you.”

“You as well, Abby.” He said, affectionately skimming his fingers briefly along her cheek.

Then, as if they knew Robert and Elizabeth wanted to be alone, Evelyn and Abigail took their leave, heading for the house.

The sounds, sights and smells of Jamestown all receded into the background as Robert and Elizabeth stood facing each other for a minute, gazing into each other’s eyes. There weren’t very many words left to say; all their fears and worries had already been voiced last night and this morning. And besides, there would be two more opportunities to say good bye, tonight and tomorrow at dawn. And as always, there was the reassurance of Elizabeth’s dream of the future showing them twenty years later with a large, happy family.

Nevertheless, Robert pulled Elizabeth into his arms and crushed her to him for a fierce hug. “I have to go.” He whispered into her hair. He kissed her temple, then her upturned lips. Her eyes welled with tears, but before either one of them could start crying in earnest, he turned and walked stoically back through town towards the fort, not once looking back.

But he felt her watching him the whole time.

* * *

Much to his disappointment, Robert didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to Robin. Having his powder and shot weighed, being assigned to his company with his fellow Charles City County residents, and spending the rest of the day and evening drilling and practicing sword fighting and hand to hand combat, kept him busy until sunset when everyone was finally dismissed for the night. And at this time of year sunset came between 9:00 and 9:30, a time when toddlers were already abed.

In the morning, he was up before dawn, dressed and ready to go even before the first rays of sunshine peeked over the horizon. And Robin was still asleep.

He took one last look at him by the light of a single candle, praying that this would not be the last time he saw him, but feeling a measure of hope, after all, Elizabeth’s dream of the future predicted he would survive. He said his good byes to Elizabeth—no tears allowed—and rode to the fort on Apollo, Jamie by his side on Pisador.

Once in the fort, the brothers were grouped with fellow residents of Charles City County. This was sound strategy as these men had trained together during monthly musters. They were familiar with each other’s talents and abilities and were friends as well. They could count on each other to watch each other’s backs. Most of them were present although there was a moment of sadness when roll call was taken. The reason why they were here became clear again. Adam Cooke, Roy Wright and Osbourne Wells had been killed by the Indians in the initial assault. Every single man was ready to avenge their deaths, including the Bassett brothers. Robert stood with Nick Bannister, Charles Crockett and George Turner and all agreed the natives needed to be punished. Unfortunately, when they heard what their mission would be, everyone was rather disappointed, although some were secretly relieved that they wouldn’t be in the middle of the major fighting. Their mission was to create a diversion among the Tanx Powhatans and Weyanocks to prevent them from aiding their allies while Commander Claiborne and the main body of the militia first marched against the Chickahominies, and then the Pumunkeys on the upper York River and north of the James River. Of course, this still meant killing any Indian they encountered.

This plan, along with simultaneous attacks against tribes south of the James River, was conceived as a way to finally destroy the Powhatan nation. There was no more room for negotiation or peace talks.

The campaign lasted an exhausting three weeks. During that time the Indians’ fields were razed, their villages burned and the natives themselves completely forced from their lands, if they weren’t killed outright.

However, Opechancanough and his chief warriors weren’t captured as hoped.

In the final days, Neale’s militia company did their share of burning villages, ruining fields of corn and slaughtering any Indian they encountered. On their horses, which totaled thirty in all, they were able to run down any fleeing native and easily cut him down. They took no prisoners. It was a devastating blow to the native population.

On the final day they ended at a small Powhatan village on the shore of the York River, rendezvousing with Claiborne’s company. During the last three weeks they had systematically moved east from the head waters of the James River to the shore of the York River, laying waste to every little village they came upon.

Now Robert found himself alone in the middle of the clearing, watching wisps of smoke rising from the burned lodges, seeing the devastation and dead bodies all around him. It was done; it was all gone, the lodges burned, their crops razed; their possessions ruined. And all the Indians had either been killed or the ones who had escaped had fled far away to safer ground.

He didn’t know what to feel. All the other men were celebrating down at the river, cooling themselves off. Even Jamie was with them, watering his horses. But all Robert could think about were the people he once knew. The little children, so healthy and robust and happy; they had suffered the most. Their mothers and fathers, all dead now or scattered, fleeing for their lives. Their homes lost forever. And Makki, what had happened to her? Had she escaped or had she been killed, along with her unborn child, or infant, he corrected himself. He didn’t like the thought of her being dead somewhere, shot in the back or run through with a sword. The one thing he had dreaded about this war party was the chance of coming face to face with her. He knew he could have never taken her life and then what would have happened to him if someone had seen him let her go?

He blamed Opechancanough for this disaster. If he had just learned to keep his place, Robert was positive the English and the Indians could have co-existed in peace. But no, Opechancanough had to make trouble and look what happened. What a fool he was to think he could have defeated the English! However, he was still clever enough to not be found. He was still on the run and that frustrated the hell out Captain Claiborne.

A sudden, urgent call from behind him caught his attention. Thomas Rolfe, who had fought with the English and along side Robert and Jamie despite being Opechancanough’s grandson, approached Robert, looking pale and anxious.

“Come with me, Rob.” He said.

“Why? Where to? Are you all right?” Robert asked, wondering if Thomas had discovered something horrible, like finding his aunt Cleopatra dead somewhere or other relative.

Rolfe nodded briskly. “I’m fine. Please, just come with me.”

Robert followed Thomas across the packed dirt clearing to an area that had been mostly left alone. Thick growth prevented anyone from searching this space and since it was just a wild area, it hadn’t been set to fire.

Now Rolfe hacked through thickets and brambles with his sword, clearing a wider path. Robert helped him, naturally curious, and more than willing to help his friend. But it wasn’t a relative of Rolfe’s they found. No, it was her, curled up on her side, cradling a bundle.

Robert was stunned. “Oh my God!” He gasped. “Makki…” He sank to his knees beside her despite the thorns catching at his linen shirt. She had been shot several times, but somehow had managed to crawl away and hide in these brambles before she died. Tenderly smoothing the hair from her ashen face, he felt a sorrow as deep as when he had grieved for his friend, Owasewas.

“How did you find her?” He said, looking up at Rolfe. “How did you know to fetch me?”

“My people are experts at hiding. I looked in every place you wouldn’t think to look. I knew to fetch you because I had heard stories of your visits…and I had seen you with her once when I was visiting.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t think anyone knew but Jamie.”

“I kept your secret.” Rolfe looked him directly in the eye.

Robert nodded once, indicating his gratitude. “She was so beautiful…and kind to me. She didn’t deserve this!”

“No, she didn’t. None of them did.”

“Opechancanough made his decision. He attacked us!” All of a sudden Robert was fuming.

“He was only defending his land and his people.” Thom said calmly.

Robert stared at him for a moment, gathering his thoughts. In his heart, he knew Rolfe was right.

“Look in the bundle.” Rolfe said.

Robert carefully opened the supple hide wrapping. He gasped again. Her baby! He opened the blanket further. A baby boy, still alive, fast asleep it appeared.

He glanced up at Rolfe. Was Rolfe thinking what he was thinking? Was that why he had come for him?

Tenderly, he ran his fingertip over the boy’s wispy black hair, over his face down to his chest. The baby’s tiny chest lifted and fell with his breathing.

And then the baby squirmed and his little mouth moved as he opened his eyes. They were blue, blue as the sky above them and Robert felt like he had been punched in the stomach.

“I hate to be presumptuous, but is he yours, do you think?” Rolfe asked quietly.

Robert thought for a moment, counting backwards. The last time he was with Makki was at the end of August last year. The baby had probably been born towards the end of May and would be about five weeks old.

He carefully picked him up and cradled him in his arms. The infant whimpered but didn’t cry, too weak to do so. He did look up at Robert though, with his telltale blue eyes, out of focus as they were.

“Yes, it is possible.” He said in so low a voice, Rolfe almost didn’t hear him. Robert didn’t know what to feel. Shock, certainly. Naturally, he had thought this baby was Askook’s, believing Makki knew what to do to prevent a pregnancy by her English lover.

“Do you want him?” Rolfe asked matter-of-factly.

Robert jerked as if poked.
Did
he want him? “I…I do not know. This is so unexpected.” He said slowly. “But what will become of him? We can’t just leave him to die.”

“I will take him, and Jane and I will raise him as our own. No one would question me taking in a native baby.”

“You would take him?” Robert asked, shocked.

“Of course. Like you said, we can’t leave him to die.”

“But…” Robert stopped short, almost saying, ‘but the baby is half Indian, half English’.

Rolfe chuckled sardonically. “But he’s half Indian; half English.”

Robert blushed, caught. “I’m sorry. How did you know what I was going to say?”

“’Tis only natural for you to think like you do.”

Robert opened his mouth to protest, but on second thought, stopped himself. Rolfe was right again. “Forgive me.”

“You’re forgiven.”

He looked down at the infant again, so small and quiet in his arms. If he was going to keep this baby, he needed to get him to a wet nurse quickly. And then, the boy might still die. Deep down, the more he looked upon his son, the more he wanted to keep him. He decided he would face Elizabeth with the truth and hope she would be charitable enough to accept this child.

“I do want to keep him.” He declared. “I do.”

“’Twill be difficult. People will talk; they’ll say mean and terrible things.”

“Did you ever wish not to live? Did you ever wish you hadn’t been born?”

“No, but I was raised in England. And my mother converted to Christianity before she married my father. She was also thought of as a princess. Even now I am accepted as one of you. I even fought against my own mother’s people.”

“Do you regret that?”

“No, but I am sorry it had to come to this.”