She chewed her lip, while regarding him suspiciously. “That is fine,” she agreed eventually, with a sniff. “I will teach him how to make the pine sap remedy if he does not know of it.”
They were drawn quickly to the auctions by the noise and smell of roasting foods. Currently, an Oneida man stood on the block with his son, proudly displaying two full beaver robes to the bidders. There was a vigorous competition occurring between two of them, who even pushed at one another at times.
“Do the Dutch people overseas want for warm, winter robes?” Katari questioned. “Can they not stitch? Is it truly that cold?”
Nicholas chuckled at her trill of questions. “Not exactly. They are desired for the fact that these robes have been worn at least for eighteen months. It is a known that well-used beaver pelts will produce the highest quality of hat. These hats can command large sums of money in Europe. A single pelt that brings six guilders here will fetch nine on the mainland overseas. This man and his son will go home very happy.”
Katari sighed and stomped. “I have two such robes in my family’s lodge. Would that I could go home happy, too!” Her words brought a silence over the trio. Nicholas felt the weight of his duty to please them both.
However, the women lived in opposite directions. Before now, Opichi had been very satisfied to roam with Pétant and Nicholas. But Pétant was gone, and Katari’s family dwelled far to the south. Their provisions were low, and he needed to be out and trapping once again to produce more coin. He found it very difficult to decide upon the course of action that would suit them all best.
They ventured over to a food vendor, who displayed various slivers of roasting meats such as duck and quail on spits. The scent of seasoned meat on the fire was divine, and caused Nick’s mouth to water reflexively. He allowed both girls to select a wooden spit, and then chose pheasant for himself, and paid the vendor.
“Can any person choose to sell food in this settlement?” Katari ventured.
“Yes,” Nicholas replied. “This town swells with all kinds of vendors during the trade season. Offering food to hungry traders is a very profitable venture, I’m sure. But only during the busy season.”
“We could do this,” Katari stated. “Opichi and I can bake and sell for you if you can supply the meats. I have much knowledge of what wild plants we could gather, we would not need farmland. Just a sack of cornmeal...” Her voice trailed off as she contemplated all the possibilities.
Nicholas smiled in response to her natural enthusiasm. “If I don’t win the marksmanship competition, we will surely have to think of something, and quickly. Just know that I have not had much of an occasion to practice with my flintlock pistol as of late.”
After a quick visit to a doctor, who only confirmed that Katari was well on the mend, they continued to stroll through the streets, and to observe the hustle and bustle about the prosperous little town. There were carpenters, wheelwrights, and smiths selling their wares in every direction. They passed a group of children playing within the grassed yard of a building that Nick decided was a school. He explained the White concept of schooling to Opichi and Katari in the best manner that he could.
It was hard to keep the bitterness from his voice. As an orphan, Nicholas had participated in no such schooling as a child. He had gained all scholarly knowledge as an adult from the Jesuits, and from the books he collected. The rest he had learned from the voyageurs that bore him away from the city of Montreal. Those men held the knowledge of what it took to survive anything.
He gazed at the happy children playing games of seek and hide in the sun-kissed yard filled with green grasses and yellow daisies. A little girl went head over heels, skirts and hair flying, giggling freely as she was then captured by her gasping friend. For the millionth time, he wondered what it would be like to be part of a family. To be loved. To love a child.
It was something that Nicholas had never hoped for, or even thought that he truly wanted. The call of the grand wilderness drew him mightily. His freedom pleased him greatly. But now, spending so much time in the company of women of a gentler nature was affecting him strangely, and in ways that he did not understand.
Freedom was a lonely home.
~~~~~
The White children played very much like the Minsi ones did, rough and tumble, yet full of light and laughter. It brought back memories of the many days when Katari had done a lot of the same.
Although Native children had many chores and duties to perform, they were always given sufficient room to romp and interact freely. Some games were played strictly by the rules, and others allowed more for great creativity and daring-do. Katari believed that some of life’s most important lessons were likely taught through play alone. Such things merely could not be learned on the inside of a White school with its oppressive walls and ceilings.
Nicholas watched the children so intently that he did not even notice her eyes on him as he usually did. In addition, his expression was as forlorn as she had ever seen it. Was he missing his own family again? His wife? His children?
Lost in thought, Katari nearly screamed when an enormous man entered her vision. Nicholas was completely unaware of the advancing threat. She watched in horror as Nick’s back was encircled by hairy arms and his body was lifted right into the air. Reflexively, she pushed Opichi backwards and away with one arm and prepared to launch herself on the giant’s back. What else could she do?
“Pétant!” Opichi screeched loudly in her ear.
“Nicholas, you son of a whore, you didn’t even get that far ahead of me!” the bear-man roared. Katari saw that even Nicholas was laughing now. She stared in mute and utter confusion. Farting giants? Laughter?
Opichi managed to fling off Katari’s restraining arm and launched her own slim body through the air. The giant had released Nick and whirled to catch her. Everyone was laughing now, save for Katari. She backed up another step uncertainly.
“Pétant!” Opichi clung to him like a burr, with her braided head buried in his massive shoulder. His beard was the reddish color of a cinnamon bear. Opichi did not even seem to notice it tickling her face. “Giiwe, Opichi!” You have returned to me.
“Katari,” Nicholas called out to her, suddenly noting her concern. “This is my best friend in the world. He is known to all by his nickname, Pétant. I am not sure he even remembers his given name.”
“It was Deniel,” the man spoke through his beard in a muffled voice, still crushed by Opichi’s tight hold.
Finally, she understood. She recognized a lot of things, in truth. The way Opichi had her legs wrapped around this man’s waist, with tears flowing freely down her cheeks, and her head on his shoulder not minding the awful beard at all, spoke many silent words. Opichi loved this bear-man, fiercely. Her heart did not belong to Nicholas.
~~~~~
“It wasn’t easy to figure out that you actually went north,” Pétant told him over their meal. The women had compiled some sort of delicious venison stew complete with corn cakes to dip in the thick and hearty broth.
“Well, I certainly hadn’t been anticipating it,” Nicholas responded. “I had no plan, admittedly. Just two women – one barely conscious and the other completely hysterical.” He cast a glance toward Katari to see if she was listening in. She did not appear to be, as far as he could see. She was sly, though, and obviously quite bright. She would not hesitate to eavesdrop. “So how did you track me, then, old bear?”
Pétant stroked his beard. “Well, funny thing, that. It seems that there was a group of Natives – of the Lenape tribe, I believe – who were asking a lot of questions, too. Their questions were about a missing girl who was injured in a dray accident just before her disappearance. It just so happened that the accident occurred nearly in front of our very own room.”
“Those would be Katari’s people. Did you speak to them?” Nicholas inquired softly.
“No. I thought it wise to find you first. I had to make sure you were on the level before I sent a pack of angry N
atives after you,” Pétant chuckled. “I know how much trouble loves you Nick, and three of them were big, ornery, and armed.”
“Katari was alone and unconscious when I found her. She was caught in the dray rigging and had received a terrible wound.” He would never forget the look on her face as she fainted from the pain of it. It made him ache to remember.
Pétant nodded. “Well, if she explains the whole situation, they will not likely have an issue with you. But I wouldn’t bet my life on it.” He shook his head. “I’ve seen things go wrong in a hurry when it comes to their women.” Looking Katari over as she worked, he added, “She is a fine looking woman, too, and carries herself well. And from the look of those warriors and their sheer determination, I would wager that she is of high status.”
Nicholas did not care for the way he felt inside at the thought of Katari’s mate seeking her intently. Mingan, the Wolf. But Katari deserved much better than this little hovel, trapped in this rough world of trappers and traders. Men with little to no law, and a penchant for barter, drink, and loose women. Men like him. It was time to tell her.
“Katari,” he called. “Please come here. Sit with us.”
She rose from the corner where she worked at kneading more bread for the morrow with a chattering Opichi, and dusted off her fingertips. As she approached, Nicholas saw that the golden flecks in her eyes were dancing, and she stared pointedly at Pétant. Her black hair had slipped its braids in areas and wisped around her cheekbones and the curve of her neck. She was up to something.
“I have news.” Nicholas watched her unusual eyes swivel from Pétant and lock with his.
“Your people are looking for you. Your Wolf warrior. Pétant brought news of this fact.”
She expelled a breath. “Mingan? He lives? He is well? You know of this?”
Pétant nodded. “He looked fairly healthy to me.”
Katari smiled, slowly and tremulously. “I had hoped but was not sure. We went down beneath the oxen together, and he tried so hard to hold on to me. I remember nothing after that. Not until days later. By the Creator, this is wonderful news.”
Nicholas nodded. “So now, there is no question that we need to return to New Amsterdam. Your leg is healing wonderfully. Opichi will have to understand why we need to go back. She has both Pétant and me to protect her. Your husband must be out of his mind with worry.”
Katari looked at him oddly. “I have no such husband.”
Nicholas was confused. “But you cry for the Wolf warrior in your sleep, almost every night Katari – why?”
“Mingan, Grey Wolf…he is my twin brother. He means very much to me.”
Embarrassingly, Nicholas felt his face redden with the knowledge that Katari had no man. Just a brother that she loved dearly. He cleared his throat to buy time to form a response. But all he could think to say was, “Oh.” Pétant caught onto his flustered reaction and was now staring at him sharply. His keen blue eyes missed very little.
Briskly, Katari pulled up a chair and sat down with them at the worn table. She cleared her throat as well. “This is joyous news, Nicholas. But I would have certain words with The One Who Farts Often, as well.”
Pétant was now the man caught off guard. Nicholas felt his amusement rise as his friend regarded Katari cautiously. She had raised her eyebrows and was staring the bearded giant down, deadpan serious.
“Opichi wishes to know why you have returned to her. She says that her heart is both happy and confused.”
Pétant was taken aback. “Why…confused, you say? Why would she be confused?”
“She says that you left her, but now you have returned. How does your heart really feel for Opichi?”
Pétant glanced at Nick for aid. “Opichi has been with us for a long time, since we saved her from a bad man,” Nicholas added. “We care about her welfare very much.”
“I know this,” Katari confirmed, turning her direct gaze back to him. “Why this is so, I am not actually sure…but Opichi has much love for the farting man.”
Now, it was Pétant turn to grow redder than a beet simmering in the pot. “Opichi is only a girl,” he sputtered.
“No,” Katari answered quietly but firmly. “She is a woman now, according to her people, and to her own heart. She hopes that your return has meaning… in that you love her back and in kind. She does not know how to say all these words, and that is why I am speaking for her in the French.”
Pétant stared at the backs of his large freckled hands folded nervously on the table. “It is hard for me to envision Opichi that way, you see.” He glanced up furtively and found Opichi watching him with a shy smile. He paled, and managed to smile back a bit, but then grew even more agitated in response.
“Hey Nicholas, let’s go find out more about the contest tonight,” Pétant said abruptly, changing the subject. “We should both take a chance at the pot of guilders the winner is to receive.” He pulled his eyes from Opichi and nervously rose from the table.
“Let him think this through,” Nicholas warned Katari softly when she made as if to stop the big man’s flustered retreat. He felt the heat of both women’s gazes on his back as he followed his friend out the door.
~~~~~
The late afternoon sunlight cast one, hazy ray through the small and cluttered room. Resolutely, Katari wiped at the smeared window pane with a damp rag in order to increase the sun’s influence and dispel the gloom. She was growing bored and restless with the containment she and Opichi continued to endure.
Another long night loomed ahead of them. Opichi was uncharacteristically quiet, lost in her thoughts, worries, and longings. Katari did not blame her, for the bear-man had not exactly been pleased with Opichi’s forward announcement. Rejection was surely a hard thing for a young and lonely girl to bear.
Perhaps she should not have teased the man about his farting name. Sometimes she wished that she could better control her tongue. It could be a curse, most certainly. At the moment, however, she wished that Nick and Pétant were both here so she could unleash its full strength against them both.
The Marksmanship Contest was to be held this evening – and soon. However, the girls had been instructed to remain inside the room for the duration. It was not safe, Nicholas had said. Katari sniffed. She wanted to see this parrot for herself, she wanted to hear the guns, and she wanted to enjoy the festivities. What was the danger in that?
She glanced at Opichi, forlorn and quiet in the corner. “Baapinakamigad,” she announced. There are festivities. “I don’t want to stay inside these walls any longer. We should be allowed to watch the games. Do you not think it just?”
Opichi looked up at her slowly, and grinned.
Chapter 8
As dusk fell, the little trade town of Beverwijck came alive, much like a beast of the dark. Voices swelled in the street, and light and music fell from the doorways of the many inns peppering the haphazardly arranged avenues. The pulse of the late spring night drew many out and into its enveloping midst. It was quite apparent that, already, the revelry of the season had begun.
The shooting of the parrot, or papegaayschoet, was a yearly event that the people looked forward to avidly. Many of the contestants were military men from Fort Orange, men with loud mouths and similar egos who mostly ruled the games. This year’s sponsor of the festivities was Hendrick Brouwer, a prominent town official. Nick heard that contestants had been instructed to gather at his home, which doubled as a large Inn that faced out over the darkening waters of the Hudson River.
As Nicholas and Pétant entered the sprawling Brouwer building, it was obvious that intense gambling over the outcome of the night’s events was already well underway. Laughter was rampant, and drink flowed round the many tables. Young barmaids slipped between people with tankards of honeyed ale and plates of assorted meats, eluding the grasp of boisterous male hands as they went.
They were met with much enthusiasm and back-slapping from the local townsmen as they signed their names in the contest logboo
k. That is until some of the finest militia marksmen, known as burgherguard, took in their brawny physiques and unfamiliar bearded faces, and assessed the new competition. Betting increased tenfold, along with some nasty scowls in their general direction.
Nicholas quietly claimed a table in the corner of the crowded room and ordered some drink and food for them both with the last of his guilders. He felt a sense of guilt, knowing that Katari was trapped in the tiny room and exactly opposite of where she wished to be. Her natural enthusiasm for every part of life brimmed to the full and sloshed over, like a bucket after a deluge of sweet, summer rain. She simply could not contain it. And Nicholas found that he disliked reining it in, and being the man that caused those golden flecks in her eyes to dim with understanding.
“I have some extra coin as well, Nick,” Pétant offered, watching the worry lines crease his friend’s forehead. “We are not completely drained yet.”
Nicholas nodded. “We are reaching a critical situation here, though,” he added soberly. “We need to be out and trapping. Instead, we are caught up in a strange town, with two women who are in need of protection. Sitting here like oafs at the mercy of a single contest.”
Pétant guffawed. “You could shoot the whiskers off a mink at fifty paces with your aim, boy. And I could blow a bald strip right across the fur of its ass with a second shot before it even moved. You learned from the best, don’t you forget.”
Nicholas laughed at the image. He cracked his knuckles and flexed his firing hand, strangely anticipating the marksmanship challenge. He possessed a streak of competitiveness that had wrought him plenty of trouble in the past. He hoped, however, that there would be none such difficulty tonight. He had made the girls remain behind in the room, just in case.
Nicholas decided to broach a different subject, now that they were alone. “You know, you will need to address the situation that occurred earlier with Opichi… Did you know that she had feelings for you, back in New Amsterdam?”
Savage Journey Page 7
