“If it were different, a man would have empathy for his fellow human beings, and would not own slaves, not merely because it is wrong—which it is—but because he would understand that all men and women are alive, too. He would respect it. That is why we of the Seneca say that such men merely exist. Happiness cannot be found at the expense of others, and particularly at the expense of those who you could help, and do not.”
Sarah bit down on her lip and stirred uneasily. It sounded so good, so wise, and she was struck by this man’s observation of life. But she’d lived in this world a good many years, and she’d observed otherwise. And so she countered, “While you speak wisely, sir, and these things that you say could be true, I fear that I have witnessed that such men appear to be happy. Marisa’s step-uncle, for instance, is this kind of man, and he certainly is able to accumulate many things that should make him happy. Plus, he surrounds himself with the finer qualities of life, and these things alone give him a life of ease.”
“Ah,” White Thunder replied, “but is that really living? Do we live out our lives only to gather objects and things? After all, happiness is not a thing, and it cannot be bought by the Englishman’s treasure.”
“True.”
“Know that he who would seek to own another’s soul, through debt or otherwise, is the kind of man who infects the world around him with the unhappiness of his own blackened soul. It is why when we Seneca discover that a man holding office has lied to the people, he is removed from his position and banished from the tribe. He is an object of disgust.”
“Banished? Disgust? ” Sarah shook her head and smiled at him. “I fear, sir,” she commented, “that in my society, if we were to do as the Seneca, there might possibly be no men left.”
Sarah gave him a brief smile, for she’d meant it in jest. But it appeared White Thunder didn’t share her mirth, and he said, “Perhaps you speak as you do only because the Englishman is allowed to lie. Whereas our people know that he who would tell an untruth about one thing will do so again about another. And if this is so, how then is one to ever trust that man again? ”
Sarah weighed his words carefully as she sat back. “You could be right. But, sir, as I mentioned before, there are legalities within the English justice system that would prevent the man, John Rathburn, from subjecting me to slavery.”
“And you believe this? ”
“I do. Our courts are good and are just. They will see that justice is done.” Bending at the waist, she sat forward. “But I am confused about one matter, sir. You speak of slavery as if it were an evil that your people have never engaged in or ever considered. However, it is my understanding that there are slaves among the Indians, also. I’ve heard that when Indians conquer a people, they take captives as slaves.”
“Who has told you this? ”
“I … I don’t remember their names at the moment.”
“Perhaps it is the way of societies that some men see one thing, but tell another. Or perhaps they seek to blacken the reputation of another, by seeing in another those things they, themselves, do. I say this because what you have heard is not true.”
“But the people who said this, and they wrote it also, had lived among the Iroquois.”
“I cannot account for these people or their honesty, since I have no knowledge of them. I will tell you what is true, however, and how it really is if you would care to hear of the Seneca’s version of the story? ”
“Indeed, I would.”
He rested back against his cushion, and once again reached out to grasp hold of her hand, causing her to follow him down. She lay by his side and, seeing her settled, he began, “When the Seneca conquers a people, it is true they often take prisoners. These people are brought back to the village, where they are either put to death to atone for the anger of one among us who has lost a loved one, or the captive is adopted into a family, where the person takes the place of a relative who was dearly loved. These prisoners are treated the same as the people they replace, and they are no more slaves than I am. They have a voice in their family, they have a say in the government of their new people and of their clan. They are certainly not owned by another. Indeed, they are a free people.”
Sarah absorbed his words in silence until at last she murmured, “If this be true, then I apologize, sir. It is evident that the information I have been told is biased. This is how it is for all captives? ”
“Not all,” he said, “but most of the time, this is true. In all societies there are men who practice cruelty. The Seneca are no different than other peoples. To say that a man or woman is always adopted would be wrong. But on the whole, what I have told you is true.”
“I see,” she said as she leaned in against his side, “I believe you.” Time passed as they lay silently against one another until at last she said, “Sarah. My name is Sarah.”
He grinned down at her. “I am happy to know it. It is a pretty name. Sarah. Miss Sarah. It’s almost as pretty as the woman who bears the name.”
“You flatter me, sir.”
“No flattery. What I say is fact as I see it.”
“Thank you. I am honored.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “Will you do it, sir? Will you help me find the young woman who was entrusted to my care? ”
“
Nyoh
, yes,” he said, “I could do that. Or perhaps,” he hesitated, as though he were choosing his words with great care, “you might consider staying with me.”
Stay with him?
What did he mean?
Sarah sat up on her elbows so that she could stare down into his countenance, trying to read his thoughts. But it was impossible. All she witnessed upon his handsome face was his own serious intent.
And so she asked, “Are you referring to marriage between us, sir? ”
“
Neh
, no.” He shook his head gently. “Forgive me, for I cannot.”
Her stomach fell, and she looked away from him, embarrassed. Of course she’d known this had to be his answer. However, this was the second time she’d introduced the subject of marriage in his presence, only to be rejected. It wasn’t as if she could marry him either, even if he asked her. Since her memory had returned, she was now aware of the many reasons this could never be.
Still, his rejection stung.
At length, she said, “If not marriage, then I suppose I don’t understand what it is you are proposing.”
He didn’t speak, at least not straightaway. Indeed, minute after minute seemed to crawl by as he appeared to reflect inwardly. Was he searching for the right words to thwart her? The thought had her leaving his embrace, and she sat up.
He followed her up into a sitting position and at last said, “Let me speak plainly so there is no doubt in your mind as to my meaning. In a man’s life, there are many people who come and go. This is to be expected. However, now and again a person appears in his life who he would like to keep close to him. You are such a person.”
“I … thank you,” she said, looking down at her lap.
“It is my thought,” he continued, “that rather than you and I going our separate ways, perhaps you might like to stay with me until I fulfill my duty to Wild Mint. And then …”
She didn’t speak for several minutes, and when she did, all she said was, “And then? ”
He didn’t answer.
What could she say? On one hand, what he proposed was appealing. After all, she was more than aware that this man stirred feelings within her that were best experienced between a man and a wife. But to stay with him while he was committed to another—even if that commitment were to a person who was a mere ghost?
She couldn’t do it. Always she would wonder about herself and about him.
Besides, there were their separate cultures to consider. Where would they live?
There was also her servitude that might interfere. Five more years …
When she didn’t immediately answer, he uttered, “It is a foolish idea, for I have no right to keep you with me until I am free to make you mine.”
Sarah knew she should say something, but what?
At length—perhaps because of her extended silence—he drew back from her. He said, “Perhaps you are right. Maybe we should find the one you call Miss Marisa. But we can talk more of this later, after I have had a chance to think over what we have discussed so far.”
At last she blurted out, “It’s not a foolish idea, sir.”
She watched him as he swallowed. And she was struck by the observation that her response might indeed be important to him. It gave her the courage to ask another question—one more directly from her heart.
“Sir,” she said. “I would make another inquiry of you, if I might.”
He nodded, as though to encourage her to speak. But it wasn’t an easy question to put to him, and she hesitated.
At length, he asked, “You have a query?”
“Aye, sir, I do.” Sarah raised her chin, if only to give herself courage. Then she said, “I fear my hesitation accounts for my confusion as to how to ask this of you.”
He nodded as if he understood her exactly. Then he said, “Be at ease. You can ask me most anything and I will answer and give you my opinion.”
“’Tis not that sort of question, sir.” She drew in her breath and looked away from him. But in the end, she knew that once begun, she needed to carry this thought to its end, and so she said, “I thank you for your offer, sir. But you must know I cannot stay with you. We were, the two of us, raised so differently, and I believe this might eventually cause dissension between us. Besides, as I’ve already mentioned, I fear my servitude would ultimately catch up with me. Therefore, in my mind, I have no option but to fulfill my debt. However, it’s also because of my debt, and my servitude, that I would ask this of you, sir.”
He nodded, and she paused while she gathered her courage together. At last she said, “’Tis my consideration that if I am to serve out my next five years before I’m allowed my freedom … then I …” She sighed. “Oh, I can’t do it. I shouldn’t ask,” she declared. “I know I shouldn’t. ’Tis silly, really.” She made to raise up and get to her feet. “Forgive me. I’ll go and fix us our supper if I can find …”
But he, too, rose up along with her, and grabbed for her wrist when she would have left, and he asked, “I thought my idea was foolish, yet I asked it. Please tell me, what is in your mind? ”
She sat down again and looked askance at him as she said, “Sir, I … I … would like to know …”
“Is it something to do with my people? Or perhaps a thing you fear to ask about my people?” he supplied. “If so, do not hesitate. I will answer as best I can, and I am not easily insulted.”
“No, sir, were it a subject easily spoken of and not personal, I wouldn’t be having a hard time putting my thoughts to words.”
Again he nodded.
“Sir, I … I would know … I would know …”
Both of them were sitting perfectly still. Both of them were staring at one another.
“… Love.”
He frowned, and she wondered if she’d said something wrong. What was he thinking?
She waited until he spoke at last, saying, “
Nyoh
, yes, many men and women would know more about this if they could.”
She sighed. He didn’t get it. “Yes,” she said, “you are right. But, sir, I fear you still don’t understand me,” She gazed away from him, so embarrassed was she. Thus, as she prepared to say what was in her heart, she found herself looking at her hands, instead of at him. She continued, “If I’m to serve out my next five years—and I feel that I must—then they will be years spent without love. Therefore, it occurs to me that I’d like to come to know love … now, sir.”
He didn’t move a muscle. In fact, he looked as if he might have been struck by lightning.
“I’m sorry, sir, if I have shocked you, but—”
“You have not shocked me,” he said. Then he sighed as he closed his eyes. But within seconds, he was leaning in toward her, and once again, took her hand in his.
She didn’t understand. Why didn’t he say something … anything? Was he now the one teasing her?
She tried to remove her hand from his, but he wouldn’t let go of it. Instead, he gathered her into the shelter of his arms, brought her in close, and he said, “I thought you were never going to ask.”
Eleven
He turned her head into his and rubbed his cheek over hers. Then as though she were a sweetened treat he’d long been denied, he buried his face deeply within the crook of her neck. At length, he whispered in her ear, “I have been waiting for these words from you for days.”
“But you said nothing to me,” she complained, “and not by a single action have I thought that you—”
“Of course not. Did I not promise you? ” His hands were massaging her back, moving up and down her spinal column, and everywhere he touched, he sent shivers of delight over her body. Sarah melted in against him.
“Please fear not that I am trying to encourage you to marry me, sir,” she whispered against his shoulder, since she felt she owed him an explanation. “Indeed, you have made yourself clearly understood on that account. And though I still believe that a man and woman should be married before they commit the act of love, it is only that …” She sighed into the crook of his shoulder. “I little know how to explain it. Seeing you with the bear and realizing I could lose you …”