Dangerous Dreams: A Novel (61 page)

Even those who had been looking elsewhere immediately focused at Waters.

“I do not wish to be specific on this occasion without him being here to defend himself; but I
will
say my men challenge Master Tayler’s character, and I’ve good reason to believe their misgivings are valid; and I shall say no more at this moment.”

Dubious looks spread through the Assistants like a ripple spreading out from a pebble plunked into a pond.

Baylye surveyed them for a moment; he wondered what Waters had heard, made a mental note to ask him after the meeting. “Any more comments?” He used the pause to search for Thomas Colman, whom he spied leaning against a tree at the edge of the forest. “Very well. Let us vote. Master Colman appears indisposed at the moment, but he may certainly vote when he rejoins us, if necessary to break a tie.” After the lopsided vote, he said, “Thank you, gentlemen. Thomas Hewet is our new Assistant. Now to the subject of palisades.”

Groans instantly filled the assembly.

Thomas Stevens said, “ ’Tis too late in the season to begin palisades.”

Several said, “Aye! Aye! True words!”

John Brooke raised his hand. “Roger, we’ve not the manpower to build palisades. God o’ mercy, man, the Roanoke palisades nearly killed us when we were at full strength. How can you expect us to undertake such a huge endeavor with our
current
numbers?”

Cuthbert White shook his head. “Out of the question, Roger.”

Baylye nodded at Waters, who had raised his hand to speak. “Gentlemen, from the military view, ’twould be insane
not
to build palisades . . . no matter what the cost. Without them the colony is indefensible; and for anyone to think this land is a safe haven, rather than the violent, dangerous place it is, would be utter foolishness. Rather, we
must
build palisades, and we must begin now to complete them before deep winter . . . it simply
must
be done . . . even if only my men and I have to do it.” He cringed at his own words, knew too few of his tiny contingent would ever be free enough from guarding the colony to accomplish such a feat, knew their morale would plunge even deeper at the mere suggestion of it, knew that even with the entire colony on the task, completion before winter was impossible. But perchance . . . just perchance . . . with a total commitment and long days, perhaps even some nights . . . and with a bit of luck and good weather . . . they
might
complete enough to mount a semblance of a defense against a Savage attack. But, he admitted, morale already sits at the bottom of the bay . . . many will be diverted to procuring food for the winter . . . cannot depend on the Chesapeakes . . . cannot use them to help with the palisades. Mayhap we can trade with them for food, save ourselves the time of hunting and fishing . . . but trade what? We’ve little left. Good Lord, there’s no way . . . but we must try. “But we can do the job far faster if
all
lend their effort. So I beseech you, gentlemen, help my men and me do what must be done, for nothing less than the survival of the colony is at stake.”

None spoke. All stared at Waters, weighed his words.

Baylye read their eyes, sensed their hearts denying Waters’ words, their minds acknowledging their truth. “What say you, men? Will you support us?”

Ananias voiced the first
aye
, followed by Thomas Colman, who had returned in time to hear Waters’ plea. Then White and Brooke added their
aye
s, as did the remainder except William Willes and Thomas Stevens.

Baylye said, “Thank you, men. We
shall
build palisades . . . commencing as soon as all the cottages are completed, which should be in a few days.” He paused for a moment. “In addition to cottages and palisades, we’ve an enormous amount of work to do to lay in stores for winter. The
Chesapeakes’ harvest, with the exception of corn, will not likely yield enough to help us, so we’re on our own, which means we must procure fish, venison, and any small game we can catch.” He looked at Christopher Cooper. “Christopher, would you choose three men—perhaps those that George Howe worked with—to be our lead fishermen. Then take Mistress Colman with you if she’s willing, to the Chesapeake village. As you know, she’s fluent in the Savages’ hand signs and can speak with their fishermen, learn their skills, and communicate them to you. Our own skills fell quite short at Roanoke, and we must do better here. Mistress Colman might also relate their drying and smoking methods.”

“Certainly, Roger.”

“And, Roger Prat, can you collect your surviving hunters and put them to work? We also need
you
to visit the Chesapeakes with Mistress Colman.” He glanced at Thomas Colman. “Thomas do you think Emily will be willing to help us with all this? We need her rather desperately.”

“Of course, Roger. I think she’ll be quite eager to help.”

“Excellent. Thank you. So, Roger, to continue, take Mistress Colman and have her talk to the Chesapeakes about where the best hunting grounds are, as well as their methods for hunting, and preserving venison.”

“Aye, Roger. And by the bye, Mistress Colman was by far my best student at dressing deer at Roanoke; I should think she’d be an excellent teacher for the other ladies since they’ll now be performing that duty.”

Thomas Colman glowed, thought how proud he was of Emily. “Good idea,” Baylye said. He glanced at Colman. “Thomas, your daughter has become the most valuable asset in the colony.” He smiled then eyed Cuthbert White. “And now, Cuthbert White, I’m told you enjoy great favor with the ladies.” He paused for the volley of snickers that rippled through the assembly, recognizing White’s five-foot stature and ponderous, unseemly girth. “So could you find a couple of willing ladies—” More laughter. Baylye frowned. “That is not what I meant. I meant
willing to lead
the soap-and candle-making tasks. There’s plentiful bayberry here for making wax, and we’ll have considerable animal fat if our hunters are successful. And soapwort abounds. Mayhap you could find two ladies to be in charge of soap and candles, and help them organize the others.”

White nodded stoic agreement.

“And, William Willes, can you find three people to make salt . . . men or women. We’ve good stores on hand from Roanoke, but we’ll eventually need more.”

“Aye.”

“Now for our most important task. John Brooke, you’ve some experience at brewing beer.”

“ ’Tis true, Roger.”

“Then would you deal with the Chesapeakes, again with Mistress Colman’s help, to barter some of our few remaining trade goods for as much corn as you can acquire? Then set aside some for making flour as the Savages do and begin making beer with the rest? We’ve abundant wild hops about for preservation and flavor.”

“ ’Twill be a pleasure, Roger, as long as I can guarantee the quality with frequent tasting.”

Laughter.

“So ordained, John.” He paused, looked slowly from man to man. “Gentlemen, our situation is such that with all men engaged in building cottages and palisades, fishing and hunting, and defending the colony, we
must
rely on our women, as well as any youngsters old enough to help, to perform
all
other tasks . . . including water and firewood gathering, cleaning our dwellings, and preparing and cleaning up after our meals. Would that it were not so, but it
is
; for as we all know in our hearts, our situation remains desperately fragile . . . at least until John White returns; and with our diminished numbers, we
cannot
survive without extraordinary cooperation and effort from all.” He exhaled slowly. “And that’s enough dismal talk for one day. Let us adjourn and be about our tasks. Thank you all.”

Cloaked in cool, dry fall air, Emily walked toward the edge of the village closest to the Chesapeake camp. When she had passed the last cottage, she stopped to remove her mother’s crinkled letter from her apron pocket, unfolded it, read it again.

My Dearest Emily
,

        
When you read this, you’ll probably be at sea, probably sick, and probably missing me and your brother as much as we already miss you. My dear, you are the joy of my life, and being parted from you is the most painful and difficult thing I’ve experienced, even more so than giving birth to you and your brothers. I love you, Emily, and I miss your willing, helpful hand, your cheerfulness, your humor, your intelligence, your loyalty, your honesty, your kindness. I haven’t told you often enough how much I love you, but I tell you now that I count the moments until I’m with you and your father again. No separation can dim the love I feel for you, and I pray you thrive and continue to be the fine young woman you’ve become
.

        
I do not know what lies ahead for you in that new world, but I know you have the mind, the values, and the perseverance to conquer every challenge you face. I know you will survive, no matter what. Please remember everything I taught you about dealing with your father. You’ll need each other to survive and prosper. And in spite of how he sometimes affects you, remember that he loves you deeply. Second, I want you to remember that your chastity is your most wonderful possession. Nothing in your life is more important. It is the very essence of you, and should be given only to the one you love more than life itself: your husband, none other. I know you understand this. Now, dear Emily, I must go. I pray that God watches over you and protects you and that our family will soon be together again. Godspeed
.

I love you
,

Mother

She stared at the letter, fought the tears trying to rise in her eyes, unconsciously searched her apron for her locket. Mother, I miss you, want to be near you, feel your touch, see your smile. Dear Lord, I know ’tis impossible, but I pray you’ll help me find my locket . . . somehow . . . someday . . . even if I have to walk and swim back to Roanoke to do so. Please, Lord. An image of her desperate fight for life at the massacre flashed through her mind. She folded the letter, kissed it, slid it back into the pocket; stared blankly at the forest, then looked at the deep blue sky dotted with small, puffy clouds. She focused on two, watched them slowly drift together then
apart. Like people, she thought. We come together; then whether by death or happenstance, we inevitably drift apart . . . sometimes to be reunited, sometimes not. Pity ’tis so . . . quite painful . . . but a burden of humanity, I suppose. I miss you George, pray you’re with God. How wonderful and simple it would’ve been if everything had worked out for us at Roanoke . . . no murders, no massacre, harmony with the Savages, food. We would’ve fallen in love, married, had children—the first English children to be conceived on this continent—enjoyed all life has to offer . . . rather than the sorrows we now endure . . . and those that lie ahead. She gazed at two more clouds that were moving together. I wonder what makes clouds . . . beautiful, soft clouds . . . would that I could fly up and touch them, mold my own images, then quickly glide back to earth like a bird and admire my work.

She glanced at the twenty cottages in various stages of completion. Going up fast, she thought. Bark sides would be warmer than grass mats, but no time to make them now . . . perchance in the spring . . . mayhap even split rail siding. She closed her eyes, imagined a mature, thriving colony with permanent wood or brick homes, brick chimneys, and ten times the population they now had. ’Twill be exciting to be part of it. Prithee come soon, Mother. Her gaze then shifted to the Chesapeake village with its bark lodges, smoke wafting through smoke holes; women gathered in small groups, visiting with one another, skinning game, scraping hides, smoking fish and meat, cooking. No different from us. I wonder how many thousands of years they’ve done things that way . . . as we did before the Romans . . . I shall soon know how to do all of it. Strange, but even though their ways seem backward from ours, I think I shall enjoy learning them . . . in truth, the idea of it rather excites me. Perhaps I shall learn their language, as well. Yes—

“Emily!” Hugh Tayler limped rapidly toward her from the village. “Emily, how fare you, lass?”

Her body stiffened. “I’m well, Hugh. Good to have some sleep in my bones. And you?”

“Good as new. Ready to move forward with life . . . and, Emily, with all my soul, I long to speak with you as you promised back on the banks . . .
speak our hearts
, as you put it. I cannot go on not knowing what’s come between us. I beseech you, Emily, please tell me now.”

“Hugh, I haven’t the time now. Masters Cooper and Prat are meeting me in a moment, so I can interpret for them with the Chesapeakes. I . . .”

He stared at her with crestfallen, pleading eyes, downturned lips, said nothing.

His look and silence sliced into her heart like a knife, filled her with guilt, crumbled her will like a piece of stale bread. “Very well, Hugh. I shall tell you.” She took a deep breath then related all that Johnny Gibbes had told her.

When she had finished, he looked away, fixed his gaze intently on the ground as if waiting for it to bore a hole in the earth, then looked back at her with a quizzical look. “You must know in your heart that I could never do such things. Only John Gibbes would accuse me of such travesties.”