Dangerous Dreams: A Novel

by Mike Rhynard

  “I sha’n’t, Ellie. I’ll search until I find it.” After a pause, Emily flashed a more somber look. “Ellie, have you seen Hugh Tayler?”

  Elyoner frowned instinctively at Tayler’s name then quickly recovered her smile. She still had misgivings about the man, felt an uneasy ripple in her heart when she saw him; but she’d noticed heartfelt concern in his eyes when he looked at Emily, prayed that her apprehension was misplaced, that he was as he appeared to be. “Have I seen him? My Lord, he was practically living here the whole time you were unconscious. Came by twice a day to see how you were doing, spent hours talking to your father, who’s quite impressed with him, by the way, and . . . oh, that’s right, you wouldn’t have known. Master Tayler was with the men who ran to the . . . to the site, helped George and two others carry you back, and I’m sure he’ll be here as soon as he hears of your awakening.”

  “Really?” Emily’s eyes brightened with the delight of a young girl receiving her first piece of jewelry.

  “Aye. ’Tis true.”

  Emily studied Elyoner’s face, noticed the shadow of misgiving that always appeared there at the mention of Hugh Tayler’s name. “You still don’t like him, do you, Ellie?”

  Elyoner frowned again, this time through a weak smile. “Truly, Em, ’tis not that I don’t like him. ’Tis . . . ’tis just something I sense . . . and your age difference doesn’t help. But ’tis only me, I’m sure. He seems genuinely taken by you, and I’m being a dunce by scowling every time I hear his name. So please forgive me and think nothing of it.”

  “You don’t need to ask forgiveness. I know you’re only thinking of my well-being, and one must respect one’s intuitions. And Ellie, please understand that though I’m attracted to Hugh and enjoy him, I’ve much more to learn about him before I could ever say I loved him, though I confess I do have strong feelings for him, even now.” She felt a twinge of guilt at understating the depth of her attraction, justified it by telling herself that Elyoner would be all the more concerned if she knew the full truth; but she respected Elyoner’s unspoken intuition, resolved to be cautious with Hugh. “So did Father tell you anything of his talks with Hugh? He’d never discuss such matters with me, other than to encourage the relationship.”

  “Not a lot. Only that he retains considerable holdings in England and will someday receive a rather large inheritance, possibly including the family estate under certain circumstances. For sure, if he’s spoken the truth, he already is, or will be, a wealthy man.”

  Emily wondered why Elyoner had questioned his honesty, stowed the thought in her subconscious for later consideration. “Interesting. I’ve never had such discussions with him; but regardless, my feelings are independent of any wealth the man has or may acquire in the future. When I fall in love and marry ’twill be for love of the man, not his money. I know some think those priorities are reversed, but I guess I’m just a simple, naïve young lass.”

  “Emily, your priorities are exactly as they should be. The love of money leads nowhere. Only the true love of another person can sustain one through life’s challenges, though a little money certainly helps. Anyway, I’m just happy you’re alive and recovering well, and I’m anxious for the time—soon, I hope—when you can begin nursing Virginia. And speaking of Virginia, I must take her back to the cottage for a change of clothes and a nap. A nap would suit you, as well, my friend, keep you on the rapid mend.” As she rose to leave, someone tapped on the cottage door.

  “Come in,” Emily said.

  Hugh Tayler poked his head into the room. “Emily! I heard . . .” He rushed through the door, knelt beside her. Looking into her eyes, he shook his head slowly back and forth, seemed awed that she now sat alive before him. “Emily . . . I’m . . .” He started to put his hands on her shoulders, noticed the sling, then grasped her right hand with both of his, held it to his lips. “Emily, I’m so happy you’re alive. ’Twas unbearably painful seeing you unconscious, not knowing if you’d live or die. I . . .” His eyes glistened with a thin dampness; he thought how vulnerable and helpless she looked with all her bandages and her black eye, marveled that even in her helpless, wounded state, she remained striking beyond description, stirred his soul and emotions to their deepest depths.

  “Hugh, I . . .” Familiar warmth surged through Emily’s body. She reached up, touched his cheek, began easing her head toward his, looked alternately at his eyes and lips; her heart and breath quickened.

  Elyoner coughed. Hugh and Emily stopped, pulled back with knowing smiles.

  Emily took a deep breath, mentally thanked Elyoner for rescuing her from another emotional lapse she might have regretted; admitted she was no longer confident of her ability to control herself with Hugh Tayler, knew she must avoid situations that could imperil her chastity—her mind flashed to her narrow escape with the young lad back in England. Even if she were truly in love, she could allow no compromise of her morals before they were married. Stupid girl, she thought, why are you thinking marriage? You haven’t even decided that you love the man . . . must ask Ellie again what she heard about him.

  Elyoner said, “Master Tayler”—she couldn’t bring herself to call him Hugh—“I don’t wish to sound like a nagging mother, but I suppose that’s what I am. I was just telling Emily that she’s been up too long and needs to rest if she wants to continue mending. I’m sure you understand. Perhaps you could come back this evening, when Thomas is here, and have a lengthy conversation with my young friend.” She couldn’t resist expressing her disapproval of their age difference.

  Emily showed a pouty look but was again relieved at Elyoner’s intervention, knew it would have been improper to be alone in the cottage with Hugh; she agreed her father’s presence would be a perfect, though somewhat awkward, solution, one that would also allow her to assess the relationship between the two men. The last thing she needed was her father and Hugh striking a secret betrothal agreement; her presence with them would surely preclude such an occurrence.

  Tayler rose, swallowed his disappointment. “An excellent idea, Mistress Dare.” He turned toward Emily. “With your permission, Emily, I’ll return this evening. Your father and I have actually become quite good friends, even talked about him nominating me to be an Assistant. So I shall enjoy the visit on two counts. Good day, ladies.” He bowed to both women then walked out the door.

  Elyoner, instinctively unsettled by Tayler’s comment about the Assistants, stared at Emily without expression. “I’ll see you later this afternoon, my dear friend. I expect George will be by to visit you sometime today, as well. Em, I trust George completely; but on other matters, please take care . . . and I speak not of your health.”

  Emily didn’t sleep. Rather, she lay on her back, relived the massacre, grieved for the dead; imagined Agnes being raped again and again, beaten, led about by a rope around her neck, treated as a slave, visualized herself there instead of Agnes; saw Audrey Tappan, Joyce Archard, and the three soldiers enshrouded, being lowered into their graves; thought how quickly the graveyard was filling, shuddered when she thought how close she’d come to being there herself. As her hand slipped into her empty apron pocket, she blinked at the fresh tears in her eyes, again promised her mother she’d find the locket. In a day or two, I’ll be strong enough, and Ellie and I will go there and find it. Yes, Mother, it was awful . . . but I didn’t have time to be afraid . . . even when I knew I was going to die. With a moan, she rolled to her right side, stared at the cottage wall, thought about all that had befallen them in so short a time, and again felt the wispy twinge of foreboding that had haunted her since their arrival.

  No, Mother, I don’t know what I’m going to say to George. He told me he loves me again. I’m so torn, don’t want to hurt him; but in truth, I don’t have a passionate love for him . . . yet someday . . . he’s such a good young man. And Hugh . . . he actually helped rescue me and . . . I like him, Mother . . . and my passions are rising, and I may be falling love with him, so I think I must guard myself carefully. But
on the other hand, there’s so much happening in my life right now, there’s little time for daydreaming about love . . . daydreams, and Hugh, may have to wait until Chesapeake . . . Oh! Elyoner also told me Manteo was here to see me several times while I was unconscious, paddled his canoe all the way here from Croatan Island. A true friend he is, and I regret that I’ve seen so little of him. Yes, Mother, he’s shown me that Savages aren’t at all what we think they are—at least he’s not. I expected an ignorant, unfeeling, ferocious animal, like Savages are said to be; but I found him intelligent, witty, honest, and with feelings and values like any good Englishman. No, Mother, the one who nearly killed me was not like Manteo . . . but I think ’tis because his people have suffered at English hands, and they believe they’re fighting for their existence . . . the same as we would. As a man, he’s probably as noble as Manteo. She trembled, imagined his ferocious glare hovering above her, his club on its way to her head. With a painful moan, she rolled onto her back, closed her eyes. Anyway, Mother, we’ll soon be away from here . . . and I shall depart with my locket in hand. So pray for me to find it . . . and to find the words I shall say to George. I love you, Mother. Come to us soon.

  Baylye continued, “and as you know, we’re critically short of nearly everything we need to eat and drink.” The usual grumbles floated around the room as he unfolded his list. “Fortunately, the modest success of our hunters and fishermen has enabled us to stretch our shipborne rations considerably further than estimated. But even at that, people are quite famished and tempers short; and with the end of our supplies now in sight, the issue is whether the last of them occurs here or at Chesapeake. If we fill our bellies here, we’ll arrive at Chesapeake well-fed but with no food to initiate our new existence there. I doubt that the Chesapeakes—fine, friendly souls that they are—will greet our arrival with platters of fresh fish, oysters, and deer . . . and they certainly have no beer.”

  Snickers floated around the room.

  “No, I think they’ll be expecting us to acquire those delicacies on our own. I would also call your remembrance to the fact that in 1585, Lane demanded that the Savages here at Roanoke feed him and his men, and that demand has been the root of nearly every ill that’s befallen both sides ever since. We have a chance for a new start with the Chesapeakes, and arriving with enough food to establish ourselves will stand us in far better stead than expecting them to provide for us.”

  He looked from man to man, gauged their thinking, their feelings. They were restless, he thought, but more from frustration with events than anything else. “So, if you agree, we’ll stretch what we have to cover the first week of the entire colony’s presence at Chesapeake . . . and that means we go hungrier here or drastically increase our success at hunting, fishing, and foraging, all of which are complicated by the threat of attack.” He paused for comments, none came; wondered if the grim reality of their situation had finally sunk in, convincing them that they were precariously close to disaster and needed to take actions that matched their circumstances. “Fishing, of course, offers less exposure to the Savages, but in two days, the pinnace and one shallop will be completely engaged in transporting people, belongings, and equipment to Chesapeake, and thus will be unavailable for fishing. We also need boats to get to the mainland to hunt, given that little game remains here. But the Savages there have probably already taken most of the local animals, so we’d have to sail or row far up the river to find any measurable amount of game, which would waste much valuable time with no promise of success and far greater risk of attack.” He shook his head. “So I think before we depart, the only course is to harvest every animal we can find here, including small ones like squirrels, hare, the big-eyed animals with rat tails that hang from tree branches, and the mischievous ones with striped furry tails, and we must use arrows and other means to do so lest we expend our ammunition too quickly. At the same time, we must also fish with all of the boats for the remaining two days and with the unengaged shallop after that. We must also clam and crab like zealots until the last voyage departs for Chesapeake twelve days from now. However, even though Manteo showed a few of us how to salt and dry fish and venison, we haven’t enough salt and time to do so. So we’ll eat the fresh food first and save the preserved food for Chesapeake.”

  After general concurrence by the Assistants, Baylye observed that supplies of grain and yeast for beer brewing were nearly depleted because they had been used for food, which meant that until John White returned with more, they would have to use grain made from corn they bartered from the Savages, if the Savages were willing. He then proposed they cease making beer immediately, to avoid adding bulky cargo to the voyages, and take only what was already brewed, which would provide a modest initial supply at Chesapeake, where they would begin brewing with corn. He next discussed the salt-making operation on the outer banks, which, though laborious and logistically challenging, had met the colony’s seasoning needs at a fundamental level. He directed that the operations continue but at an accelerated pace, with all three vessels transporting salt crews to and from the outer banks each morning and evening, and fishing the rest of the day. Then when the pinnace and one shallop departed for Chesapeake, the remaining shallop would carry on until the final departure.

  Baylye’s insides churned when he thought of the challenges ahead, the complication of approaching winter. One such challenge, a monumental one, would be the building of palisades. He had no idea how he’d persuade them to do so, given their weariness of palisade building, but at least they were now experienced and could perform the task much faster. But, he acknowledged, winter would probably preclude serious progress before spring and allow him plenty of time to concoct a compelling argument. It would have to be a good one, for many would counter that because they were with friendly Chesapeakes, palisades were unnecessary. Perhaps they’d be right; he hoped it would be so.

  “Two more items, friends: the Chesapeake transportation plan and the election of a new Assistant to fill my former position since I’ve now replaced Governor White. Let’s discuss the move first. The plan has little flexibility for adjustments because the objective is to get most of the supplies and equipment, and a goodly number of people, up there on the first two voyages. The first voyage will be two days from today—ten days before our final departure—and the second voyage will be five days before the final departure. John Hemmington will pilot the pinnace, while Peter Little and John Cheven will pilot the shallops. These three are our most experienced sailors, and I want them to know the sound and offshore well in case the weather turns on us. The first voyage will take thirty men and women, some with particular skills, as well as heavy equipment and enough personal belongings and supplies to sustain them for a few days. Twenty-four people will remain at Chesapeake with the five who are there now, to lay out the new village and begin building cottages. Six, including the three going to Croatan Island, will sail back here by way of Croatan. Henry and Rose Payne, and Charles Florrie, have volunteered to be our people at Croatan Island, and the returning voyage will deposit them there since they’ll then know where the Chesapeake village is. Sergeant Smith will head the contingent of soldiers; and John Bright, Cuthbert White, and William Willes will be the three Assistants responsible for governance.

  “As I said, the second voyage will go to Chesapeake five days before our final departure and will also consist of thirty men and women and a large amount of baggage and equipment. Lieutenant Waters will be on this voyage; and Roger Prat, John Sampson, and Thomas Stevens will be the Assistants.” He looked at Thomas Colman. “Thomas, I thought it best to assign you and Emily to the last voyage to allow her as much recovery time as possible before traveling. Will that be acceptable?”

  “Aye, it is, Roger. Thank you for the consideration.”

  “Very well then . . . Oh, Dyonis and Ananias, since you’ve both welcomed new family members—” He frowned as a sudden surge of compassion flooded his mind. “Dyonis, please excuse me, I can’t begin to tell you the sorrow w
e feel over Margery’s death. My God, man, you bear it well. I could not be so strong in such circumstances.” He paused while the others offered their condolences to Dyonis Harvie. “But since you now have a fine, healthy young son to raise, I think it fair that you choose the voyage that best suits your needs.”

  Dyonis rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “Thank you, Roger . . . all of you. I shall miss her greatly, but somehow young Henry and I shall persevere. Thank you for your support.” He paused, collected himself. “So, since Elyoner Dare is nursing and caring for the boy, I’d like to send him with her and Ananias on whichever voyage they choose. I myself would like to go on the third voyage, so I may spend as much time as possible with Margery at her gravesite . . . probably the last times I’ll be with her.”

  Baylye nodded, laid his hand on Dyonis’ shoulder. “So be it.” He looked at Ananias. “And you, Ananias?”

  “We’ve discussed it and would prefer to go on the second voyage though when Elyoner hears Emily will be on the third, she may change her mind. But plan for us to be on the second voyage.”

  “Done.” Baylye’s eyes then surveyed the entire group. “I will be on the last voyage with the remaining fifty-one; and by the bye, while the people on the first voyage are working on building the village at Chesapeake, we on the last voyage will be hunters, fishers, gatherers, and salt makers here at Roanoke.”

  The last item of discussion was the election of a new Assistant. The nominees were Lieutenant William Waters and Hugh Tayler. There had been some concern about soldiers being involved in the colony’s governance, but Baylye had convinced them that it was appropriate, if not absolutely essential, given the colony’s circumstances. Thomas Colman had been unaware of Waters’ nomination when he nominated Tayler, and subsequently decided there could be no better candidate than Waters, making his selection unanimous.