Roanoke (The Keepers of the Ring) (49 page)

The Indian nodded solemnly.
“The werowance and the others want to hear the words of the women.”

For one dark moment jealousy writhed like a coiled and angry serpent in Thomas
’ soul. The leader of the tribe would hear a woman before listening to him? A woman who had spent the morning cooking with
his wife?

But then the hand of reason steadied him.
‘Twas no secret that God worked in mysterious ways. And God often used smaller, weaker vessels to proclaim his truth. After all, did not even Balaam’s ass speak?

Ultimately, however, God relied upon his prophets to spread the truth of righteousness.

By the time of the June harvesting of the first corn, every Indian soul of an age of understanding had been converted and baptized. At Thomas’ insistence, the
kiwasa
, carved images placed in the temples to watch over the bodies of dead chiefs, were removed from the village and the bodies of the dead chiefs buried. Save for an occasional ancient incantation murmured by the old priestesses, the pagan practices Thomas had despised gradually evolved into Christian rituals.

Thomas could not explain the miracle of their sudden understanding or desire to know the things of the true God, but he accounted the conversions to his fervent prayers.
‘Twas also a sign from God, he reasoned, that America would thenceforth be the lamp to shine forth the light of the world. These savages would tell others as they journeyed to hunt and trade, and many would travel through the wilderness of Virginia to seek the truth in the City of Raleigh.

Though the people of Ohanoak had converted, Thomas was not entirely happy.
Though they now cavorted around their campfires in praise to the true God, they refused to give up their dancing in favor of a sedate worship service. And though the women had donned sleeveless mantles to cover the nakedness of their upper bodies, still they wore provocative slit skirts that troubled Thomas. He had ceased to preach against buckskin, for since their landing in Virginia, no suitably strong material had been found to replace the clothing the colonists had brought from England. Buckskin, it seemed, was a necessary evil. Thomas knew he would just have to be vigilant to make certain that the women covered themselves modestly in the heavy material.

Despite their newly found fervent love for God, Thomas thought the Indians were still too superstitious.
He had taught them about God’s holy word the Bible, and was impressed by their reverence for the book until it became clear they considered it a powerful talisman. Men sought to touch it before hunting; women asked permission to rub it on their swollen bellies as their time of childbirth neared.

Their superstition extended even to prayer. They seemed not to understand that they had the privilege of praying themselves, for they often asked Thomas to pray that God would strike their enemies or bring a good harvest. Once, after Thomas had given what he knew was a stirring sermon about the miraculous feeding of the five thousand, the Indian werowance, Abooksigun, folded his arms and legs and declared that the people of Ohanoak would hunt and plant no more, for God would feed them. It had taken Thomas nearly half a day to convince the chief otherwise.

Despite Jocelyn
’s joy and his private relief when the Indians converted, Thomas feared that his converts were not genuine. Had they, he wondered, been so awed by the advanced civilization of the Englishmen that they adopted his religion as easily as they aped his tongue? He had heard the savages marvel that so many Englishmen got along without women. Others had freely suggested that the English settlers were spirits risen from the dead.

‘
Twould take time and trial to prove their faith.

Forty-seven

E
ighteen months passed. Roger Prat died after contracting a bloody flux during December of 1592, and his eighteen-year-old son John replaced him on the council. Young George Howe, now seventeen, was also deemed of an age to assume his father’s vacant seat. In January 1593 Ananias Dare and the other assistants held a council meeting and invited, as a special guest, the minister Thomas Colman.

Ananias stood and extended his hand in greeting as Thomas Colman took his seat before the council the table.
“I’faith, you must have had a tiresome day,” Ananias said, noting the lines of exhaustion on the minister’s face. He made a determined effort to be friendly. As Eleanor’s mental condition had progressively deteriorated over the past few months, Ananias had come to appreciate the prayers of the minister and his wife.

“
Yes,” Colman said, nodding politely to the other assistants. “Chogan and I have been discussing the wisdom of visiting the other savage tribes. From what I can gather, there are many heathen tribes north of this place. Thirty and four are ruled by the mighty chief Powhatan.”

“
I have heard of him,” Ananias said, frowning. “The Indians say he has a brave heart and fears nothing.”

“
Every man fears something, my friend,” Colman said, leaning forward as he rested his arms upon his knees. “Now—what brings me before your council table?”

“
The council wanted you present tonight,” Ananias said evenly, looking to John Sampson and Roger Bailie for support. “Because it has come to this—we have been here six years, and the men God has spared—including our own young George Howe and John Prat here—wish to marry. We need more children to populate the colony.”

“
Have we not children enough?” Colman asked, lifting an eyebrow. “It seems my wife is forever visiting new babies and women in confinement.’

“
The men deserve wives,” John Sampson inserted, cracking his knuckles as he leaned forward. “Though I left a wife in England, come May ‘twill be seven years since I’ve seen her and the English courts will declare me dead. She will be free to marry again, and why shouldn’t I marry as well?”

“
You would commit adultery, knowing full well that you are married already?” the minister asked, suddenly unsmiling.

“
I don’t know that I am still married,” Sampson roared, fire flashing from his eyes. He slammed his fist down upon the council table. “How do I know my wife does not lie in a churchyard grave? And my son has grown from a boy of twelve into a man, and he needs a wife.”

“
All our women but Beth Glane and Agnes Wood have already married,” Thomas pointed out. “Who, then—”

“
You know who,” Ananias interrupted, facing the minister straight on. “The Indians live among us now, Thomas, they are as Christian as we. The werowance has often proposed the idea of intermarriage to me, and I cannot offend his honor much longer. Our refusal to take Indian wives has caused the Indians to doubt our friendship. We tell them they are our brothers in Christ—”

“
We have been through this before,” Thomas interrupted. He reached for his Bible as if it were a weapon.

Ananias saw the gesture and shook his head.
“You were not invited here, Reverend, to give an opinion or read to us from the Word of God. We know what God told the Israelites, but we are not Israelites.” He sighed. “I am not sure we are Englishmen. But we are citizens of Raleigh, and we must live according to new laws. The council has decreed, Thomas, that Indian-English marriages will be sanctioned by the civil government, whether or not you approve.”

“
Civil marriage.” The minister spat the words. “‘Tis no true marriage if a man and woman live apart from the blessing of God—”

“
So say you,” Ananias answered, lifting a hand. “And so we have made provision. Though John Chapman has not spoken a sermon since your illness, he is a clergyman still, and he has agreed to pronounce any willing man and woman married in the sight of God.”

The minister flushed to the roots of his hair, glared at the council for a silent moment, then stood and left the church.

Jocelyn jerked in alarm when the door slammed behind her. When she turned, she saw Thomas standing motionless in the room, his hand pressed to his forehead. “Doth your head ache?” she asked, stirring the embers of the fire so the room brightened.

“
They know not what they do,” he said, taking a seat at the board. He rested his elbows on the table and pressed his palms to his forehead.

“
What has the council done, Thomas?” Jocelyn whispered, mindful that Regina slept in the attic. “Mayhap ‘tis not as bad as you think—”

“
They have cowed John Chapman into marrying Indian women and English men,” he said, his fingers knotting into his hair. “They were not content with civil marriage, but now heathen and Christian will be united alike in the holy ceremony of marriage before God—”

Jocelyn reached across the table to
soothe him. “The Indians are heathens no longer. The idols are gone. They are as Christian as we are.”

“
Are they?” Thomas’ eyes were bold and defiant as he looked at her. “I do not know for sure, Jocelyn, for they dance, and sing in words I cannot understand—”

“
Do they understand your Latin or Greek?” Jocelyn asked. “No. They trust you, and you must trust them.” She picked up a skirt of Regina’s that she had been mending. “And ‘tis a good thing, this. Already some of our men have gone to live in the Indian village to be with the women they love, so now they can be married.”

“
You would excuse their fornication?”

Jocelyn could feel his glare from across the table.
“No, I’ll not excuse it,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. “But even God allows a man to marry if he chooses. You have forced thirty men into celibacy, Thomas, and ‘tis not natural.”

His face was like granite as he stared at her.
“Lustful thoughts can be curbed,” he finally said, speaking slowly. “Men do not require women to live.”

“
You’ve proved that well enough in this house,” Jocelyn answered, turning from him to her mending, determined that he should not guess how deeply she cared. “And think on this, Thomas. Which is the greater sin—a man who loves a woman without the benefit of marriage, or a man who marries a woman and refuses to love her? Even the Bible has commanded husbands to love their wives as Christ has loved the church.”

He did not answer, and Jocelyn did not look up from her mending.
After a moment, she broke her thread and lowered her voice. “I am not surprised that you are silent, for both are sin, Thomas, and both are wrong. And until you can stand honestly before God yourself, why judge your brothers so harshly?”

She stole a quick glance at him
—his eyes were fixed on the leaping flames of the dying fire. “I must preach against sin,” he finally replied, his voice a toneless whisper.

“
Yes, and you shall. But ‘tis the Word of God that convicts sinners, sir, not you. And if you refuse to show grace to your fellow men, soon you will drive them all to the Indian village. Who will hear your preaching then, Thomas?”

He stared at the fire without a word, and Jocelyn finished her mending, then slipped out of her bodice and kirtle and into her nightgown.
As was her habit, she knelt at the side of the bed and tented her fingers as she prayed: “Father God, have mercy on us, but especially on my husband, Thomas.” Then she climbed into bed and studied the orange glow of the fire until she fell asleep.

Forty-eight

F
rom the small house he had taken at Kilmore Quay in Ireland, John White sat at his desk and idly tapped his pen on the sheet of blank parchment before him. How could ink and parchment contain the fullness of the emotions he wanted to express?

Outside his window, the tumbling roar and release of the ocean intruded steadily upon the quiet of the night shadows.
He liked the sound of the sea, for often he comforted himself with the thought that his family lay just on the other side of the water . . .

He dipped his pen into the inkwell.

John White to Richard Hakluyt, 4 February, 1593:

To the worshipful and my very friend Master Richard Hakluyt, much happiness in the Lord.

Sir, for the satisfying of your earnest request, as well as for the performance of my promise to you, I have sent you the true discourse of my last voyage into the West Indies, and parts of America called Virginia, taken in hand about the end of February, in the year of our redemption 1590. There were at the time three ships absolutely determined to go for the West Indies, but when they were fully furnished, and in readiness to make their departure, a general stay was commanded of all ships throughout England. I presently acquainted Sir Walter Raleigh, that by his endeavor it would please him to procure license for those ships to proceed on their determined voyage, that thereby the people in Virginia might speedily be comforted and relieved.