Pétant stroked his stubbly cheeks, obviously due for a shearing by Opichi. She doggedly continued to shave them both once every other week, having learned the technique by watching Katari.
“Now don’t get angry at me,” Pétant answered with a chuckle, “but I feel you might just need a woman, too.”
Nick made a disgusted sound.
“And Opichi needs some female company. I’m afraid she is growing very lonely without Katari. It’s a long day for her without her womankind about.”
“You’ve already raised the quality of her life substantially,” Nick replied, thinking of all of the things that she endured under the harsh hand of Le Tousse.
“Yes, and we need one more good woman to round out our numbers. I don’t think a team of three is working for you. Or Opichi,” he added hastily. “Robins need to twitter.”
“So why New Amsterdam? Why not the Great Lakes?”
Pétant scratched his head. “Well, we haven’t had much luck out that way, have we? And some of Le Tousse’s men are out there still. I think we should keep to the east and south for a few years before heading back.”
Nick grunted noncommittally. He certainly wouldn’t mind taking down the rest of Le Tousse’s band. Had it not been for Katari, Le Tousse would have both killed him and Pétant, and taken Opichi captive. The thought made him grind his teeth. He owed Katari his life. They all did. And he had sent her away.
“We’ve got close to a hundred pounds of pelts. Let’s say we hit one more valley, then make our way east again.”
Nick sighed. “And you believe some woman will just up and leave her home, and take up with us. Just like that.”
“With that many pelts, we could buy another happy woman,” Pétant returned saucily. “Native or White. Probably a looker, too.”
“Right,” Nicholas drawled sarcastically. “Just like that.”
Pétant guffawed. “With that oh-so-pretty baby face, you might win yourself an Iroquois or Ojibwe princess before we’re through, Nick.”
Nicholas shook his head. “Of course, friend. I’m sure it will be that easy.”
He’d already had the perfect woman. No one would ever match Katari, and he knew it quite well. But the idea of visiting the city through which she had once strolled with fresh and youthful delight was strangely appealing.
~~~~~
Firelight danced across a sea of bodies, painting both skin and hair with strokes of ochre flame. White Lynx sat across from her, naked to the waist. He was nicely muscled in all of the right places, Katari noted appreciatively. The brave grinned at her again.
He did not possess, however, the breadth of shoulder that Nicholas had boasted, nor the strong, masculine jaw line. But, he was certainly handsome, and that she could not deny. When White Lynx leaned in to compliment her necklace, for the third time this evening, Katari took the opportunity to study his mouth. It was just not made in the same fashion as the trapper’s. Would a kiss from this brave feel as good? She did not know. Katari sighed, and worked harder on paying attention to his words.
An elbow met with her still-tender thigh, and she grimaced. Next to her, Kanti played tickle games, yet again, with her intended mate. It was highly annoying. Katari inched a little farther away from the giggling girl. She wished that she could chat with Opichi right at this moment. The little robin would love the marvelous food and festivities that her people had produced here. Was she happy where she was, alone in the forest with her gentle, bearded giant?
“Are you not dancing this evening?” Grey Wolf questioned in her ear. She heard then gentle concern in his voice.
“Oh, perhaps I will, in a bit. At the moment, it seems as if I ate several bites too much of our mother’s venison stew,” she smiled, patting her belly. “So tell me, who will you be dancing with, brother?” Her handsome sibling had attracted a swarm of young and pretty bees since his triumphant return from the journey to New Amsterdam.
Grey Wolf sighed. “You know, it is actually quite difficult to decide,” he told her in a quiet voice. “Between you and me, I thought picking out a wife would be easier than acquiring the necessary wealth and status to do so. But, I’m afraid that it’s not.”
Katari nodded. To her, the Minsi girls eligible for Grey Wolf’s attentions now seemed so young and….so boring. A few of them were quite comely, sure enough, but would that be enough for a man as intelligent and accomplished as her brother? She chewed her lip, wondering about his future as well. It seemed that their mutual adventure had aged them both more than they realized. Katari almost wished for the type of harmless naivety that she had possessed before the trip. It was simpler then, to think of the future with bright and hopeful enthusiasm.
“Perhaps you will find someone more suitable at the harvest festival, when we meet with tribes from Passajung or even the Unalachigo, the Turkey Clan,” she suggested after a while. “Grandmother always says that it is healthy for a people to mix clanship.”
“Perhaps,” he returned casually. “I suppose there is really no need to be hasty.”
“Tell that to our mother,” Katari grumbled. “I hear about the need for grandbabies more and more every day.” Jenna had not become pregnant again after the birth of her twins. Her grandmother, Willow Plume, felt that her womb had likely sustained damage during their extremely rigorous labor.
As the second born in a near deadly birth, Katari carried with her a certain amount of nagging guilt. Perhaps, she had been the cause of her mother’s subsequent barrenness. She recognized this as a silly conclusion, but she could not seem to escape the notion. She owed her loving mother a grandchild. Or two, or maybe three.
Sighing, she turned back to White Lynx, who watched her still. The swelling song of a flute rose enticingly in the background. “Your brother?” she questioned him.
The brave nodded. “Brown Eagle is more gifted than ever. When he married Gives-To-The-Water, his talents seemed to increase equally with his joy. Perhaps that is what marriage to a beautiful woman does to a man.” He gazed at Katari dotingly. “I can only imagine what feats I could accomplish if you were to become mine.”
She smiled prettily at his comments. White Lynx certainly did an excellent job of making her feel good about herself and her charms. With Nicholas, she had always been uncertain of her appeal, and of his interest in her. And, even after those breathtaking moments nestled in each other’s arms at the sacred hemlock spring, he had still turned away from her plea. The thought made her sour inside, and she pushed it away.
White Lynx rose, and the glow from the fire played over the firm muscles of his bare abdomen. “I would dance with you, Katari,” he requested formally. “Will you join me?”
Katari looked at his outstretched arm, with its golden brown skin much like her own. She placed her hand in his, and entered the dance with a new resolve.
Chapter 15
The Governor’s Gardens were truly glorious in their midsummer splendor. They boasted a riot of tulips, roses, and colored daisies imported from overseas¸ as well as a multitude of flowering shrubs and plump fruits. The scent in the air was deliciously heady, although it attracted, unfortunately, a variety of stinging bees and wasps in addition to the lovely butterflies.
The guardian statue of former governor Peter Stuyvesant had been knocked down and removed by those who were now in charge of the colony. New Amsterdam was no more. The city itself had been renamed after England’s Duke of York but still thrived as a bustling port of trade between many countries. Nicholas was sure that Katari would be thrilled by the constant activity and the varying sights and sounds of progress.
Pétant and Opichi had not joined him on his daily stroll down De Heere Street and past Fort James into the open markets at the wharf on the Hudson. He was pleased with the time alone on this day, however. It gave him a chance to shop with a different intent, and engage in his privately coveted pastime.
Thus far, he had collected two translated volumes from the English master known as Shakespeare, titled Hamlet and Antony an
d Cleopatra. Such tales this writer wove, and with a rich wording that painted pictures in the mind so vividly! Nicholas had been fascinated by the stories when he found them penned in his own language. He knew for certain that Katari would be swept away by them as well.
In addition, Nicholas had purchased two beautiful bracelets imported from the country of Spain. Inlayed with brilliantly hued stones, they would twine around her wrists like a glistening, silver snake. He had also procured some delicious tea from the Orient – the taste was catching on like fire in the New World, and tea was said to have medicinal and curative properties. He had also discovered a doctor’s journal recording European medicinal treatments for common ailments.
He realized, of course, that his rapidly growing collection was based largely on a flight of fancy. Nicholas would never see Katari again. However, it did not stop him from making the purchases, and thinking about them obsessively. He hid what he had amassed in a trunk beneath his mattress, away from the prying eyes of Opichi and Pétant. The couple already worried about him quite enough.
When a full month had passed since their arrival in the city, and Nicholas had still not brought home a suitable female, the first feeble attempts at matchmaking began. Nick could tell that Pétant did not enjoy pushing the issue, but Opichi was a formidable adversary. She simply refused to adopt any understanding of the word “no” into her repertoire of White vocabulary. And she never seemed to tire of her endeavor, and grew increasingly pushy with her demands.
Just yesterday, Nicholas had arrived at their rooms to find a blond and rather buxom young woman in her twenties engaged in tea and attempted conversation with Opichi and by default, Pétant. According to his friend, the woman was recently widowed, childless, and quite alone in the city. Although she possessed a small home, she now laundered clothing for coin and provided midwifery to women with child. She also held a basic knowledge of the French language.
Nicholas felt for the woman, he truly did. He admitted that she was actually quite comely, with large blue eyes and a small waist. But she was so different from Katari in voice and mannerisms, however, that it startled him whenever the woman spoke out loud. Apparently, his skill at conversation had dissipated over the past year. Opichi had scowled in disapproval at his abruptness and apparent lack of enthusiasm.
Mercifully, the woman had finally taken her leave of them, promising to return on the morrow to provide additional comfort for Opichi. Those parting words had been offered with a strange and pointed smile in the direction of the younger Native woman. The question died on his lips when Opichi took his hand and placed it on the little swell of her abdomen. There would be a baby coming before the deepest winter storms came.
How could a heart be pleased and also ache in the very same instant? That was how he felt as he strolled along the pathways through the Gardens. Nicholas was truly frustrated with his turbulent emotions. When would he escape the memories that controlled him?
Absently, he traced the scar hidden beneath his Flemmish linen shirt with his thumb. When Katari had healed him, she had left a large piece of her soul behind in her wake. He wondered if anything of him remained behind inside her, too.
~~~~~
Evening collected on the shores of the Hudson waterfront like a coating of warm, sweet honey. Balmy summer breezes touched down on the wharf with the ever-echoing call of shorebirds aloft, easing the humidity of the day.
Outside the open markets, the Jesuits gathered at day’s end to offer a benediction to the masses who wished to attend. Nicholas had found that he enjoyed frequenting the little blessings often now, more so to hear the lovely flow of his native French language than to receive religious inspiration.
He had become fond of taking the custom of sharing a pot of tea with one of the Jesuits, an older man named Father Chastain, who had also hailed from Montreal many years ago. He was a good conversationalist, and knew the city’s happenings as well as bringing word from overseas.
Today, they were discussing the politics of free trade. It seemed that the English takeover had not hindered the flow of goods, or the manner in which they were exchanged. The governing country had even accepted the original Dutch municipal charter set in motion by the outspoken lawyer known as Adriaen van der Donck. The bright and enterprising man had lobbied vigorously to guarantee the concept of free trade for all.
Against Peter Stuyvesant’s somewhat autocratic tendencies, the doctrine had held firm. New York would continue to prosper, and the price for a made beaver pelt was higher here even than in Montreal. The future for fur trappers continued to be as bright as the summer sun.
Father Chastain regarded him strangely. “Nicholas, you appear….somewhat off today,” he commented with a slow smile over the rim of his tea mug.
Nicholas took up a spoon of the marvelous white powder known as sugar cane, and stirred it into the steaming brown liquid. How he would love to sprinkle Katari’s tongue with a measure of it, and watch her eyes grow large.
“Ah,” Nick returned casually, “My friend is having a baby. I am growing long in the tooth as well,” he laughed. “I will be thirty in September.”
The grey-haired man chuckled. “Still a babe, Belline. Be free in the wilds while you can. Unless you care to join our mission?”
Nicholas sighed. “I have lived a life from childhood onward that one could never call devout, Father. I have broken many of God’s laws, and will likely continue to do so unabashedly should the need arise.”
“I think that God understands the concept of survival quite well,” Chastain replied. “Especially through the eyes of a child. Do not sell yourself short, Nicholas. You are a very good man.”
If only he could believe that. He had fooled many people in the past. It would not be wise to fool himself, as well. Nicholas grunted noncommittally.
A man approached their little wood-hewn table, dressed in a Brother’s attire. He was blond and fairly handsome, and appeared to be close to Nicholas in age.
“Hello, Brother,” said Chastain. “Would you care to join us, and meet my friend?”
The man readily pulled up a chair. “I will admit that I have come to enjoy the English tradition of a daily cup of tea. How can I refuse? I will hate to give it up when I venture out once again.”
“Nicholas Belline meet Father Bertrand Allouez. He is closer to your age and much less of an old prune than I am.”
Nick took the Father’s proffered hand in his own. A tickle of some sort of memory itched at him. Had he met this man before? It was possible, for he had known many Jesuits in his travels.
“Hello Father,” Nicholas greeted, “Your name is familiar to me, although I’m not exactly sure as to why.”
“As long as you did not hear it uttered in a curse, well then I am a happy man,” Allouez laughed.
“Certainly not,” Nicholas replied with a grin. “For then this memory would surely be clear to me.”
“Father Alloeuz has made many frequent journeys to the interior lands south of Amsterdam,” Chastain explained. “He is a man with a great understanding of the belief of the Native peoples of this area.”
The vague and flickering memory rapidly became a needling suspicion. Nicholas was sure that he had once heard the name Alloeuz pass Katari’s lips, with great reverence. “Is there any chance, Father, that you are familiar with the Lenape peoples, in particular, the Minsi tribe?” Nick questioned casually.
“Quite,” said the Jesuit emphatically. “They are a friendly tribe, intelligent and cultured, although they have little use for our particular faith. But they have been very good to me. They are incredibly generous with their hospitality, food, and gifts.”
The life of a Jesuit missionary into unchartered territory was an uncertain thing. Often, they risked death or torture, should they wander into hostile territory not open to conversion by Whites, or even talk of the Christian faith. Some tribes, however, were quite willing to receive a visiting missionary, and were extremely generous with the visitors. They beli
eved very firmly that, once offered into their dwellings, guests were to be treated quite like Europeans would treat their royal families.
“The Minsi philosophy is that all visitors who pose no threat to their people are welcome as guests. Treated like family, and regarded highly, they are thus taught the ways of the original people, and the rich and complex language. I have been honored to be live among these people for a time. I have come to feel that their thoughts and beliefs have only broadened my own faith,” the Father expounded. “For there is certainly a Creator, and his reach is broad, and cross-culture.”
Nicholas scratched at his chin, very anxious to pose the next question. “So, these Minsi people you speak of, are they also known as the Clan of the Wolves? Are they located in a southern area known as the Dark Forest along a broad stream called the Sononjoh?”
“Why, yes,” Father Allouez responded with growing amazement, “Nicholas, how would a French-Canadian from the north know this?”
Nick’s eyes clouded over with the vivid memory of his rescue of Katari and their subsequent trek to the small trade settlement. Well, it was no secret, at any rate. She was healthy, and had been returned to her family.
“I have traveled with a young woman of the Minsi clan who was held in high esteem and was a gifted healer. She was wounded when I found her, and I did what I could to protect her, until she was reunited with her brother. I had not met such a woman before,” Nicholas admitted wryly with a chuckle. “She was quite a woman to be reckoned with. Lovely, though, and very intelligent.”
“You can’t be speaking of Katari?” the Father questioned with wide eyes. “Sister of the Grey Wolf, daughter of the White Medicine Woman know as Jenna?”
When Nicholas nodded, Father Allouez smiled broadly with appreciation, and swatted the table top with the flat of his palm. “She lives! Yes, I know the family well. They have come to be like my own people…only with a bit different viewpoint. You, Nicholas, are the man responsible for Katari’s survival? Her brother searched for so long, and was so near to giving up hope.” His eyes were wide with relief.
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