Roanoke (The Keepers of the Ring) (61 page)

“I will remember,” Gilda promised
, her expression solemn.

Audrey and Rowtag drew their boys to them one last time, then the four adults stood
without speaking while Fallon slipped through the hole. Noshi followed, his brow furrowed, and Gilda paused at the wall and flashed Jocelyn a bright smile. “I’ll see you again, Mama,” she called, stepping into the hole. She giggled. “Fallon’s got my feet.”

“Go with him, darling,” Jocelyn called, and Gilda clenched and unclenched her hand in a childish wave, then slipped from sight.

Rowtag pressed his ear to the wall of the palisade. “They are running toward the canoes,” he said, his voice low. “They will be all right.”

Jocelyn and Audrey embraced, then both couples turned toward their homes to wait for the attack that would come in the morning.

“Will we find the children again?” Jocelyn asked as she walked beside Thomas. Her voice trembled in the darkness. “Will we know them . . . when we see them again?”

“Of course we will know them,” Thomas answered, slipping his arm about her waist. “We will know everyone in that place. And when we arrive, I beg you to set aside a bit of eternity for me.”

“Why?” she asked, looking up at him.

Bending down, he lightly pressed his lips to hers. “I want to get to know you all over again.”

sixty

R
unning across the dark sand of the riverbank, Gilda felt the ring thump rhythmically against her chest. ‘Twas a strange game for the middle of the night, but the wind playfully caught her hair and tiny glimmers of moonlight upon the river blinked at her like a thousand friendly eyes.

Fallon had already slid a canoe into the water when she caught up with the boys, and she clambered into the boat and lay flat on the floor as Fallon instructed. Noshi climbed in beside her, pressing his slender frame against hers, and Fallon climbed in beside Noshi, drawing a grass mat over them.

Gilda could feel the current tug at the boat, and after a few moments of resistance, the current soundlessly pulled the canoe into the river. Gilda dared to whisper: “Why are we covered with the mat?” and Fallon whispered back: “We are playing a hiding game. No one must know where we are.”

After a long time of being very still, Gilda yawned and closed her eyes as the gentle river current rocked the children and gurgled a soothing lullaby.

. . . at Ritanoe the werowance Eyanoco preserved seven of the English alive, four men, two boys and one young maid, who escaped and fled up the river of Choanoke . . .

—
From a 1610 report from a friendly Indian to William Strachey

Author’s Note

M
uch has been written about the lost colonists of 1587, and I am indebted to the work of David Beers Quinn, perhaps the definitive authority on the Roanoke voyages; David Stick; William S. Powell; Karen Ordahl Kupperman; and of course, the journals of John White himself. I owe a special thanks to the helpful present-day inhabitants of Roanoke Island, who have done their best to ensure that the lost colonists will never be forgotten.

My readers often want to know how much of a book is fiction and how much is fact.
Be assured that I have tried my best not to contradict the extensive historical record. And while no one knows exactly what happened to the lost colonists of Roanoke—at one time or another, their disappearance has been attributed to such unlikely culprits as tidal waves, sea monsters, and plagues—there is strong anecdotal and historical evidence to support the premise and conclusion of the story as presented in these pages.

The people of this book are a very real part of American history.
John White’s trials at sea were documented in his journals, and the exploits of Ralph Lane’s soldiers have been preserved for us through other publications and letters.

From White
’s list of colonists we know the names of the people who set out for Roanoke, but names do not tell us as much as we’d like to know, and I have had to invent characters and qualities to enlarge upon the slight historical evidence we can glean about these individuals. We do know that they were devout and courageous people. We know they were determined to take the Gospel of Christ to an unexplored land. And we know that they were willing to pledge their lives in an uncertain and risky venture.

All in all, they were people well prepared to make their homes in
a wild, untamed world.

Other Books by Angela Hunt

Roanoke
(Keepers of the Ring, book 1)

Jamestown
(Keepers of the Ring, book 2)

Hartford
(Keepers of the Ring, book 3)

Rehoboth
(Keepers of the Ring, book 4)

Charles Towne
(Keepers of the ring, book 5)

Magdalene

The Novelist

Uncharted

The Awakening

The Debt

The Elevator

The Face

Let Darkness Come

Unspoken

The Justice

The Note

The Immortal

The Truth Teller

The Silver Sword

The Golden Cross

The Velvet Shadow

The Emerald Isle

Dreamers

Brothers

Journey

Doesn
’t She Look Natural?

She Always Wore Red

She’s In a Better Place

Five Miles South of Peculiar

The Fine Art of Insincerity

The Offering

Web page: www.angelah
untbooks.com

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Christy-Award winner Angela Hunt writes for readers who expect the unexpected in novels. With
nearly five million copies of her books sold worldwide, she is the best-selling author of more than 125 works ranging from picture books (
The Tale of Three Trees)
to novels.

Now that her two children have reached their twenties, Angela and her husband live in Florida with Very Big Dogs (a direct result of watching
Turner and Hooch
and
Sandlot
too many times). This affinity for mastiffs has not been without its rewards—one of their dogs was featured on
Live with Regis and Kelly
as the second-largest canine in America. Their dog received this dubious honor after an all-expenses-paid trip to Manhattan for the dog and the Hunts, complete with VIP air travel and a stretch limo in which they toured New York City.

Afterward, the dog gave out pawtographs at the airport.

Angela admits to being fascinated by animals, medicine, unexplained phenomena, and “just about everything” except sports. Books, she says, have always shaped her life— in the fifth grade she learned how to flirt from reading
Gone with the Wind
.

When she
’s not home writing, Angela often travels to teach writing workshops at schools and writers’ conferences. And to talk about her dogs, of course.

Readers may visit her web site at
www.angelahuntbooks.com
.