12

At sennight’s end, Ustis sat at the head of the table and admired the salted ham Izella placed in front of him. “Our table is bereft of Cecily but about to welcome Watseka.”

“Watseka?” Shay was at full attention.

“It means ‘pretty girl’ in Potawatomi.”

“Shall we simply call her Pretty Girl?”

“Perhaps we shall ask what she prefers,” Ustis replied, taking up a knife and fork to carve the meat. “She shall arrive in a fortnight.”

“So, the council has decided,” Candace said.

Grieved by the lament in her mother’s tone, Selah awaited her father’s answer as she poured small beer. For once, Shay was more interested in Watseka’s coming than his supper plate.

“Indeed, the decision has been made, dear wife. With Xander overseeing the exchange, all is in hand. For that we can be thankful.”

Shay looked toward their mother as if to allay her fears. “Surely God is in this. ’Tis my dream to go where few have trod, distant though it may be.”

“Distant, aye. To Menmend, an encampment few but Xander have seen or lived to tell about. The Powhatans’ most recent stronghold.” To his credit, Ustis never skirted the hard details. Had his years of misery in early James Towne enabled him to speak the unvarnished truth? “A few other youths will also participate in the peace exchange, lads from Bermuda and Flowerdew Hundred and Middle Plantation.”

“How old is Watseka?” Selah took her usual place, Cecily’s yawning empty beside her.

“That wasn’t spelled out,” Ustis replied. “I only know that none of the settlement families are willing to send any but young indentured orphans, though the Powhatans are sending sons and one daughter. Watseka is said to be from the Pamunkey tribe, one of the many grandchildren of Chief Opechancanough.”

“I strive to remember such an exchange is sorely needed,” Candace said. “Much like Xander and Mattachanna’s marriage bringing a prolonged peace, which bore much fruit.”

Ustis nodded gravely. “We shall pray to that end.”

Joining hands, they bent their heads, Ustis’s entreaty a balm to Selah’s conflicted spirits. “O most mighty God and merciful Father, which hast compassion on all men and hatest nothing that Thou hast made . . .”

Once the “amen” was uttered, Shay only lent to Selah’s barbed edges all over again. “I suppose if I’m old enough to go over to the Indians and learn their language and life ways, I’m old enough to learn what happened to Mattachanna when she was tricked so meanly by our officials.”

Candace sighed and buttered her bread, obviously waiting to see who would answer. Selah kept her eyes on her plate while Ustis proceeded cautiously. “There are those among us who forsake the Lord’s will and force their own, thus committing all manner of evil. Such was the case with Mattachanna.”

Shay began eating, gaze riveted to their father. Though her own knowledge of the affair was as pitted as mouse-eaten cheese, Selah knew it involved Helion Laurent and wanted to shut her ears.

“As you ken, Mattachanna was a Powhatan princess, her people being frequent visitors in the early years of James Towne to treat and to trade.”

“Mattachanna turned cartwheels with other settlement children on the common when she came here, Sister said.”

“Aye, I remember it like yesterday. Her powerful father doted on her, and rightly so. She always led any visiting delegations, walking ahead of all the rest as a sign of peace.”

“But then she grew up, became Lady Rebecca, and died.” Shay chewed slowly, digesting the facts as well. “Poisoned by the English, some say, in the Old World.”

Selah could no longer withhold a frown. Her brother knew more than they assumed.

A sorrowful nod from Ustis. “Such treachery would not surprise me. But we mortals shall likely never realize the whole story.”

“Is it true that something happened on a ship with Mattachanna? And that Captain Kersey and the physic Laurent were involved?”

A pained lull. Ustis studied his son as if weighing how much further to enlighten him. “Aye. Captain Kersey learned that Mattachanna was staying in a near Indian village and, with the approval of a secret council, abducted her. This was done to force her father to hand over English prisoners, tools, and guns stolen in raids.”

“And did the chief do as they asked?”

“Not at first. He was incensed that his beloved daughter had been taken, as any father would be.” Ustis cast a glance at Selah. Was he wondering how much she knew? Or imagining himself in the chief’s place?

“Mattachanna was quickly moved upriver and churched by Reverend Criswel beyond sight of James Towne.” Selah continued the telling. “After her conversion she became Lady Rebecca Renick.”

“Those are the bare bones of it, aye,” Ustis concluded. “One day, my son, when you are older, we shall discuss more of the matter. ’Tis unsavory supper talk.”

“I’m sorry, Father.” Ever agreeable, Shay resumed eating. “Think no more of it.”

Selah looked at her untouched plate. Truly, they were all still haunted by the shame of James Towne’s sad dealings. Mattachanna’s capture was but one of them.

“Will the Indians abuse me, Father, if I go?”

Candace drew in a sharp breath. “We shall pray each day that you are hedged from harm. Surely the Indians mean you no ill. Nor will we harm one hair of any children they send us in return.”

Candace’s unusual vehemence earned an appreciative nod from her husband. “Your dear mother is right. Keep in mind Xander would not agree to anything he felt would put you in danger. I will admit, however, that I wish another settlement child would be sent in your stead. But to your credit, you have the heart to go, and we are desperate for peace.”

Shay smiled as if to bolster them all. “Long years I have waited to join the Indians. Xander has told me much of their ways. And I believe it is as you said, Father, that we are more alike than not alike, despite our many differences. Our souls are the same.”

“Aye, just the same. The gospel is for all peoples, every tribe and nation, as Scripture says, for He made us all.”

Selah gave Shay a tender, lingering look. What changes would be wrought in him after he lived away from civilization? If James Towne could be called civilized. Would he lose his fleshy frame? Become as tall and lean as a Powhatan warrior? The whole plan seemed ludicrous but for one thing. Xander approved it. Though she didn’t endorse all that he did, she’d trust that in this matter he was right.

Still, her sisterly heart was sore. She read the same sort of sorrow in her mother’s aging face, which was sure to grow more lined in her only son’s absence.

“Xander has told me the Indian fare is quite different than our table.” Shay finished his supper. “I shall learn to use bows and arrows and hunt game.”

“I daresay you won’t miss storekeeping,” Candace admitted. “If ever a boy was made for the outdoors, ’tis you.”

“I shall do you all proud. I shan’t complain. Or be homesick. Or—”

“I do hope you are homesick.” Selah blinked away the dampness in her eyes. “We shall certainly be homesick for you.”

Shay grinned. “Perchance I shall become so brave a warrior the Powhatans will adopt me!”

Ustis groaned his displeasure. “No warlike talk, aye? You are there to learn their language and their ways, not train to make trouble.”

“Very well. What will Watseka do?” he asked.

“She won’t mind the store in your place, if that’s what you’re thinking. Rather, she’ll work alongside your mother and sister, learning our faith, housewifery and gardening, and how to speak English.”

“I expect she knows quite a bit about growing things, like Mattachanna did, helping Xander with his crops.”

Aye, all too well. Selah forked another bite. She’d begrudged him that too. Making a field hand of his bride, ’twas said. But what if Mattachanna had wanted to work alongside him? What if such reminded her of home, her people, and eased her homesickness? Had the wags ever thought of that? Had she?

Selah smiled. “No doubt we shall learn a great deal from Watseka too.”

Candace looked a bit relieved that their conversation took a more pleasant path. “If she’s anything like Mattachanna, she’ll be a delightful addition to our household. And even if she is not—for no one can hold a candle to the pearl we remember—we shall do our best to make Watseka welcome and at ease here.”

Shay winked. “Perhaps I, too, shall find a Powhatan princess to marry.”

Selah rolled her eyes while Candace gave a chortle of amused exasperation. “At twelve years of age, you are entirely too young to be matrimonially minded, Powhatan princess or otherwise.”

“I second your mother, of course.” Ustis aimed a pointed look his son’s direction. “If I hear of you chasing through the woods after girls and not game, you shall be returned home posthaste.”

“Aye, sir,” Shay said, still smiling.

Given his amiable bent, he was likely to attract all manner of friends among the Naturals. Had that been one of the reasons Xander had recommended him before the council?

As Izella served a favored pudding, she gave Shay an extra helping. How would it be with just the three of them at table?

“Selah, are you prepared to go visiting with the physic on Monday next?” Ustis fixed his gaze on her, a note of distress in his tone. “I am unhappy about the arrangement, but Governor Harvey dismissed my concerns and would only assign a servant to accompany you.”

“Fret not, Father.” Selah forced a smile to allay his worries. If he refused the plan, he’d no doubt incur the governor’s wrath. Determined to make the best of it herself, she tried to stay atop her dread. Surely the small gifts she was taking each new bride would sweeten the task. “’Twill be good to learn how the tobacco brides are faring. I suppose we shall even call on Cecily.”

“Be prepared to give the council a report.” Ustis rose from the table to seek the comfort of the parlor. “The colony’s success depends on the happiness of these unions. And take anything else from the store that you think might be of benefit to the new couples. The Almighty has blessed us materially, and we must be generous in return.”