The Captive Princess Page 3

  As they topped the rise, Pocahontas could see that the objects were not birds. A shiver touched her back. They were more like quintansuk—giant boats, but not like any she’d ever seen.

  “Do you see what they are?” she asked Nantaquaus.

  He nodded.

  “I think I know what we see,” Nokomias said. “Anna described them to me. They are what she called ‘sailing ships.’ They come from across the Great Water where there is another land as big as our land.”

  “Sailing ships?” Pocahontas wanted to say the word over and over until she got it right. “Sailing ships.”

  “We need to see what manner of men come on these ‘sailing ships,’” Nantaquaus said. “Are they warriors?”

  As the ships came closer, they could see movement under the wings. The creatures had shells like the turtle—shells that glinted in the sun.

  “Are they men or animals?” Pocahontas asked. “Those two I can make out have fur on their faces like animals. But they walk like men.”

  “Stay down, Pocahontas. We don’t want them to see us.” Nantaquaus motioned for all of them to come in closer. The underbrush had not been burned, so that made it easier to hide.

  “Those … how did you say it, Nokomias?” Pocahontas turned to her friend. “Ships?”

  Nokomias nodded.

  “Those ships must still be far away because the people look so small.”

  Nantaquaus agreed. “They are still in the Great Water but they are coming this way. The wind is behind their white wings, pushing them into the Chesapeake.”

  Matachanna had been quiet as she watched. “I want to go back to our village.”

  “Matachanna’s right. We need to go back and tell our father what we’ve seen,” Nantaquaus said.

  “But don’t we want to watch longer so we can tell him more about them?” Pocahontas asked. She longed to stay. “I know we can stay hidden.”

  Matachanna and Nokomias grasped hands. Pocahontas could sense their fear.

  “No, we must leave,” Nantaquaus said. “The trip back will be slower since we must paddle against the current.”

  “How do we keep from being seen by them?” Matachanna asked.

  “They are still far enough away that we will not be easily seen. We will keep toward the shore where the bends in the river should hide us until we are out of sight,” Nantaquaus said.

  Pocahontas thought of something else that made her laugh. “We were perfectly created for hiding. Look at our skin, the color of earth. Look at our clothing, the color of the deer. Look at our hair, the color of the depths of the river. Even Nantaquaus’s canoe is the color of the forest.”

  Nantaquaus laughed with her. “You have good eyes to see, little sister. I never thought of that. The Gitchee Manitou made us like the deer. He blends into the forest so well that if he did not move you might not see him.”

  “I wonder if the bird canoes come from a land of snow and ice?” Matachanna asked. “Their ship is white, their faces are pale, and their clothing shines like sun on ice.”

  “My friend Anna had a pale face and pale hair and when she talked about her land—England, she called it—she didn’t talk about snow and ice.”

  “England. England,” Pocahontas repeated. “That’s the land you said lies across the Great Water?”

  “Yes.”

  Nantaquaus began to make his way back to the canoe. He put a hand over his mouth to remind them to stay quiet.

  “I wonder if it is the same as the land of the Espaniuks?” Pocahontas had heard the wise men talk about the much-feared Espaniuks.

  “No,” Nokomias said. “I remember Anna saying that the Espaniuks were enemies of her people. She said they were—what was the word? I think it was pirates.”

  “Pirates. Pirates. What does that word mean?” Pocahontas now had three tassantassa words: sailing ship, England, and pirates.

  “I think they are raiders. She talked about them stopping the boats on the Great Water, killing the people or taking them captive, and taking the boat and weapons.”

  “If these white bird ships are enemies of the Espaniuk, our father may welcome them.”

  As they paddled away, the great white birds became smaller and smaller until they could no longer be seen.

  Pocahontas stayed silent as she helped paddle against the current, but she couldn’t keep from thinking about what they had just seen. Maybe it was because of her dream last night, but she sensed that the change she had felt coming had arrived. Why was she so sure it had arrived on those three white bird ships?

  As their tired group got closer to Werowocomoco, she felt certain that her life would never be the same again. She couldn’t say why, but she knew.

  Fassantassuk

  When the tired group finally made it back to Werowocomoco, Matachanna and Nokomias went to their sleeping lodges. It had been a long day.

  Nantaquaus and Pocahontas agreed to meet after they bathed. They’d go to Powhatan’s lodge together.

  Pocahontas washed her hair and dried it on a bunch of turkey feathers. The feathers absorbed water, but they also made her long hair shiny. She separated the hair into three portions and braided it, weaving in a turkey feather to make it prettier. She put on all her necklaces, including the new one with Anna’s blue bead. She strung the pearls that her father had given her into the holes of her earlobes. She loved the feel of the pearls bumping against her neck as she moved.

  She tied a fresh deerskin apron around her waist and set the one she wore earlier across a sassafras bush to sweeten.

  She tried to hurry because she knew Nantaquaus would not take as much time. She always teased him that it only took him half the time because he only wore half the clothes and had half the hair. Warriors in her village shaved the right half of their heads. She had always thought it was just to make them look more handsome, but her brother laughed when she said that.

  “We scrape the hair off so that it won’t get tangled in our bowstrings,” he had said.

  It made sense. So much of what they did to decorate themselves had a purpose. Sometimes it was a practical purpose like shaving half a head or bathing often to remove human scent, which could be detected by animals and enemies. Other beauty rituals were to bond the people together, like the tattoos.

  Pocahontas remembered when she was tattooed. The mother who did it was a great artist. She took a thorn and pricked tiny holes all the way around Pocahontas’s upper arm. The pain was great and lasted for what seemed like a very long time, but she remained silent. She didn’t want word to reach her great father that she had acted like a baby. After every few prickings, the mother dropped paint made from puccoon root and hazelnut oil onto the wound.

  When it was finally finished, Pocahontas couldn’t wait to jump into the cold creek to numb the pain. Just as she stood up to go, the mother told her not to get it wet. She needed to let it soak into her flesh. It throbbed the night through, but in the morning Pocahontas removed the medicine leaves and was surprised to see a delicate tracery of vines and leaves with tiny dots for berries. One poke after another and this beautiful design resulted.

  As she left her lodge, she saw Nantaquaus walking toward her.

  “Good. You dressed to honor our father. We have important information to give him. We may have to answer questions from many of his advisors.”

  As they walked across the village and crossed the ditches that marked the area set off for the Powhatan, Pocahontas thought about delivering the news. Normally, she used smiles and somersaults to soften bad news. The mothers always said there was no one who could tease them out of a bad humor quicker than Pocahontas. From the time she could first walk, she remembered watching faces. She had been given the gift of knowing how to approach people. Some people responded to her antics with smiles and laughter, and other people responded to her serious side. She took pride in the fact that everyone in the village seemed to like her. And not only because her father favored her—she worked hard to earn their friendship and r
espect.

  Sometimes her brother teased her because he knew she liked being smart and funny. He would say that people didn’t like her for those reasons; they only liked her because she was the prettiest girl in Werowocomoco. He knew this displeased her, so he teased her all the more.

  Most said she was beautiful, tall and straight with keen eyes and a ready smile. But beauty was not something that should ever make a difference. You could not help your stature or your face, but you could help how you treated people.

  Nobody liked a show-off. Pocahontas knew this. Like the young brave from a nearby village who wore a small writhing snake through his ear piercing. He strutted, just waiting for people to notice him. Did anyone think about what it was like for that baby snake to have to go about poked through an ear piercing all day?

  No. Beauty was no reason to be honored.

  “You’re quiet,” Nantaquaus said.

  “I’m wondering how they will take the report. I’m hoping they won’t send out war parties to fight the tassantassuk.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be better to learn to know them? I want to know their strange language. I’d like to know about their land.”

  Nantaquaus laughed. “You don’t want us to shoot them with arrows because you want to torture them to death with your questions.”

  Pocahontas pinched him. “Tell me you don’t wish to know how they make those white birds that float on water?” Nantaquaus folded his arms across his chest.

  “And do you not wish to touch the clothing that reflects the sun?”

  “Your curiosity may be dangerous, little sister. Come, let us go in and speak to our father.”

  The sun had gone down and the lodge was darker and smokier than usual. The fire cast eerie shadows on the faces of the men around Powhatan.

  As Pocahontas and Nantaquaus made their way down the long hall they could see that the galleries on either side were filled with men from their village along with a few visitors from nearby villages.

  Nantaquaus turned back to look at Pocahontas. She knew what his look meant—stick by me, we are intruding here. Powhatan would not embarrass her for intruding on a meeting or ceremony, but he was much tougher on Nantaquaus.

  When they got to the platform where Powhatan sat, Nantaquaus bowed low and then stepped back toward the side until his father was ready to acknowledge him. Pocahontas sat down near his feet on the edge of the dais.

  As Powhatan reached out to touch her hair, she could see her uncle Opechancanough stiffen. He made no attempt to hide his irritation at having a girl in their meeting.

  “So daughter, why do you come to me so long after the sun has set? Surely you do not wish to tell me about your trip today.”

  “Great Powhatan, we wish to tell you and your wise council about the strange things we saw.”

  Opechancanough crossed his arms across his chest and schooled his face into a look of exaggerated impatience. Pocahontas knew that their news would quickly wipe that look off his face.

  “Nantaquaus, come forward.” Powhatan leaned forward. The fur and feathers on his headdress quivered. “Tell me what you saw.”

  And Nantaquaus did.

  Pocahontas watched the faces of her father, her uncle, and the other men. They went from indifference to skepticism to intense interest.

  “These ships,” Opechancanough interrupted. “Do you think they carry Espaniuks?”

  “I do not know,” Nantaquaus answered. He’d never seen Espaniuks.

  “You did well, children,” Powhatan said. “You watched without being seen. You discovered much about them and brought the information directly to me. Well done.”

  Pocahontas stood to leave. Her father reached out to touch her cheek. “Do not be afraid, Matoaka. We will deal with these tassantassuk on our shore.”

  Pocahontas smiled. She hadn’t been afraid. She was mostly curious. All she knew was that she wanted to know everything about these strangers. She hoped they would eventually meet.

  Questions. Pocahontas always had questions, but ever since seeing the sailing ships of the tassantassuk, she had more questions than ever and almost no way to seek answers. Who were they? What did they want? Did they plan to stay? What were they like?

  When she heard that an envoy from the Paspahegh chief, Wowinchopunck, came to report to her father about a meeting with the strangers, Pocahontas slipped into the meeting lodge and made her way to her familiar perch at the feet of her father.

  They were midway into the report when she arrived. “The tassantassuk are camping on Paspahegh ground, near the Chesapeake bay,” the envoy said.

  “But that land is swamp land,” Powhatan said. “There’s no fresh water from the Pamunkey River to the Powhatan River. That’s why your tribe abandoned it as a good place for a village.”

  “Yes, but that is where they have settled,” the envoy said.

  Powhatan nodded his head up and down slowly and turned to his advisors. “This is good. It either means they do not plan to stay long or it means they are fools. Either way, they will not trouble us for long.”

  “But they do not sleep on their great canoes like men who only explore. They cut down trees to build shelters, and they’ve begun to build a wall around their village.”

  “A wall? Like we build our lodges with frames and grass mats?” Powhatan cocked his head. Pocahontas knew that gesture. He was trying to picture it.

  “No. They take one tree and bury it in the ground pointing toward the sky. Then they take the next tree, drive it into the ground right next to it, and use crosspieces to connect the logs together. Many, many trees, all standing, form the wall.”

  Pocahontas did not understand why they would build these walls. How she wished her father would ask why.

  “They came to us to buy food.” The visitor set a basket in front of Powhatan with bits of copper, beads, and some metal knives.

  Powhatan examined each piece, especially the copper. The last copper they’d traded for all those years ago had been used, and there was little they prized more highly for making jewelry than this metal. Pocahontas fingered the copper disk strung on her necklace.

  “We bring these for you, great Powhatan,” the man said.

  Powhatan pressed his hands on his chest in thanks for the tribute. He lifted the knife out of the basket and felt the blade. “Good weapon.”

  “Yes, but it is their firesticks that carry real magic.”

  “Firesticks?”

  “Yes, hollow sticks that spit fire and pebbles as far as an arrow can travel or even farther. We saw them when Wowinchopunck led a party of nearly one hundred braves to their settlement to welcome them.”

  Pocahontas smiled. She knew that the visit was as much because of curiosity as it was out of welcome.

  The man went on, “We brought them a deer as a gift. One of our men picked up a hatchet that had been discarded on the ground. As he walked away, a tassantassa lifted his fire-stick and shot, killing him instantly.”

  “Can you bring me one of those firesticks?” Powhatan asked.

  “No, they won’t trade for them and they never let them out of their hands.”

  “Maybe I will have to see these tassantassa myself,” Powhatan said, half to himself.

  “Our chief wishes to know how you want us to deal with these strangers. Are they friends or are they enemies?”

  Powhatan paused for a time, stroking the strands of pearls around his neck, before speaking. “Let me have some of our women bring you food. Sit outside and rest while I talk to my advisors.”

  After the man left, Pocahontas tried to keep from making the slightest movement. If she stayed still and silent, perhaps her father wouldn’t ask her to leave.

  “I think we should assemble a war party and rid our nation of this danger,” Opechancanough said.

  “Do we know they are a danger?” Powhatan said. “With their firesticks, if they became allies, we could finally conquer our one last enemy—the tribes of the
Iroquois nation. Maybe we should watch them to see what they do.”

  “So, do we instruct our allied tribes to treat them as friends?” the oldest adviser, Powhatan’s brother Rawhunt, asked.

  “No, we do not know if they are friends or enemies. We need to know more about these tassantassuk.”

  “I think we should strike,” Opechancanough said. “But if you plan to discover more about them, how will you do that?”

  Powhatan stayed silent for a long time before speaking. “I will send word to each tribe to deal with tassantassuk as they see fit. They can treat them like friends or they can treat them like enemies. We will ask to receive reports of every contact. We will only learn about these strangers by watching how they respond.”

  Pocahontas planned to be there to hear every report. She, too, wanted to discover more about them.

  Friends

  or Enemies

  Nearly every day since the tassantassuk arrived in their great white sailing birds, envoys came to Powhatan to report on their strange doings. Pocahontas hurried to Powhatan’s lodge every time a visitor came to Werowocomoco to speak to her father.

  “We do not understand,” one Arrohattoc envoy reported. “They come to our village and we prepare a feast of venison, corn, beans, cakes, and mulberries. We talk with them, trying to help them understand our village and our allegiance to the great Powhatan. We tell them you are the Mamanatowic.”

  Pocahontas’s father bowed his head to acknowledge the truth of that tribute.

  “We trade food to them for knives and beads—a fair trade. They keep asking more questions about our ‘king.’” The man gestured with an open hand toward Powhatan. “This is how they speak of you.”

  “King.” Powhatan tried the word. “King.”

  “They do not speak our language well. Their understanding is limited. We decide to send Nauiraus with them to learn their tongue.”