Christabel

by Karin Kallmaker

  Once the Quakers were gone she knew where the preacher would turn his ire. He preached that all the Manhattans were evil, that their presence on the island was an abomination. Christabel was so ashamed that no one would stand and speak the truth to him. Instead, men trumpeted about order and the law while they broke both. Christabel hadn’t understood why none of them saw how bad these events were for trade until Bitsy had said her father, and most of the wealthier merchants, had their eyes on land farther up the island.

  Trying to sleep last night, with the smell of charred wood choking her throat, she had realized that from the moment the Dutch had settled the island the Manhattans were living on borrowed earth and borrowed time.

  If she rightly read the fever that had taken hold inside the church, time was just about out. Rahdonee and her people had no defenses against frightened sheep that had been whipped into fury by a perpetually hungry wolf.

  She set out after one last worried look behind her. Her mother was slipping away from her, further gone in drink every night. It was as if Ma was behind a shutter that closed more tightly every day, and each morning there was less of her mother there. She wouldn’t have discussed it with Ma anyway—she just knew she had to stand on her own two feet. Not like a child who claimed to be brave, but like a woman who was strong.

  She was her father’s daughter. She could and would protect what she loved.

  The gates weren’t closed yet, and she rode out under her father’s cloak without challenge. She flew past the Bouwerie, noticed with dread that trees were being felled to penetrate farther into the forest. She was at the Sacred Tree before it was fully dark, and she let the mare rest a moment.

  She didn’t precisely know where the Manhattan settlement was, but she knew the path Rahdonee always took toward her home. The moon was near full tonight, and Rahdonee had taught her not to fear shadows. She guided the mare onto the trail and gigged her to a trot.

  The trail skirted marshes and groves, heading generally toward the Pole star. A wave of longing for her father brought tears to her eyes, and she trusted the surefooted mare for the next little while.

  She smelled cookfires before she found any of the Manhattans. Then a lanky, tawny-skinned man stepped into the trail. He wasn’t menacing, but it was plain that he wanted to know what a mounted intruder might want so long after dark.

  She pushed the cloak hood back so he could see she was a lone woman. He was startled, and said something she almost understood from her lessons with Rahdonee.

  “Mintoolow,” she said, the Manhattan equivalent of It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. It wasn’t exactly hello, but it was about all she knew she could pronounce. With more confidence she said the only other word she was certain she could say properly. “Rahdonee.”

  He nodded, and she followed him a few hundred feet along the trail. They passed a sinhoteb where a woman and wide-eyed children gathered in front of the fire. The man called something to her and the woman nodded.

  A few minutes later the trail widened and ended in a vast clearing dotted with perhaps twenty sinhotebs. The man called, “Rahdonee,” giving it an inflection that was far more lyrical than her own pronunciation of it.

  Then Rahdonee emerged from a sinhoteb on the edge of the forest. “Jiha,” she said to the man, who chuckled as he said something Christabel could not follow. Rahdonee was blushing.

  “Mintoolow,” Christabel repeated to the man and the Manhattans nearby laughed—but it was a kind laugh and Christabel smiled, feeling a little less shy. Then she remembered her business, and swung herself from the mare’s back.

  A quick exchange of words and something that looked like a treat from Rahdonee’s pocket, and the mare was led away by a grinning boy.

  “Don’t worry, he loves animals. He will rub her down and unsaddle her. He knows how.”

  “I have to talk to you.”

  “So I gathered.” A passing woman said something to Rahdonee with a grin, and Rahdonee blushed again.

  “What did she say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What?” Christabel had never seen Rahdonee look so adorable.

  “She said that seeing you she understood why I hadn’t chosen any of the men here.”

  “Oh.” Christabel felt her face stain with red. “So they know that we...”

  “Yes, it’s not a difficulty. But,” her expression cleared, “you really should not be here.”

  “It’s important.”

  They stared at each other for a long minute, not wanting nor needing words.

  “And I am so sorry about your father,” Rahdonee said abruptly. “I never got to tell you.”

  “I know—and that’s partly why I’m here. I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Come sit at my fire.”

  Rahdonee’s fire was circled with smooth logs as if she often had company. She covered one log with a soft deerskin before letting Christabel sit down. She then offered a wooden cup of steaming broth she poured from a heavy kettle that sat just at the fire’s edge.

  An older, heavyset man walked up then, and, after giving Christabel a nod of greeting, spoke to Rahdonee.

  “This is Sinhaya. He is our leader, and he wishes to meet you.”

  Christabel rose, curtsied, then said, “Mintoolow.” It was a very useful word, as it turned out.

  He inclined his head and replied in kind, then offered a hand so Christabel could gracefully retake her seat. He spoke to Rahdonee again and turned to go.

  “Rahdonee, he should stay. I have to warn you. All of you.”

  He turned back at her words and settled on the log across the fire from her. Christabel was glad of his presence. She needed to focus on what she had to tell Rahdonee and not get lost in wanting Rahdonee to hold her and kiss away her fears.

  “I think that some of the Puritans are going to try to drive you off the island. He’s been—the preacher, you remember him?”

  “I’ll not forget him, ever.”

  “Well, he’s been telling lots of people that you’re evil. And some of them want to believe it. They’re afraid of the omen.” She pointed at the streak of light, closer now than last winter.

  “That is the Sky God’s eye upon us,” Rahdonee said. “He looks down at the Great Mother sometimes. There are none alive who saw it when last he looked, so we are blessed.”

  “I like that explanation,” Christabel said. “Pa thought it was just a different kind of star. But some of the people are scared that it means the devil is at work. And he, Reverend Gorony, makes them more afraid. He tells them that what happened to my father was an act of God. Punishment because he defied the true word. And he says you’re all evil. And if we’re to be saved, you have to go.”

  Rahdonee looked genuinely perplexed. She spoke to Sinhaya. His final words, after a lengthy exchange, made Rahdonee’s chin quiver.

  “Sinhaya says that the elders have expected this, but not quite so soon. A place is already chosen, and we will begin the move in the morning. He had hoped we could take the harvest with us.”

  “It’s the weather,” Christabel said. “The ground is more solid. They can move faster. And Lord Berkeley is not here. But I’m not sure he would stop them—it’s as if his rule doesn’t exist. It’s all been handed over to that preacher.”

  “He has a dark power,” Rahdonee admitted. “And such power grows stronger before it wanes.”

  “They have muskets, some of them. They’ve been burning people out of their homes.”

  “I know,” Rahdonee said. “We are not warriors. The Dutch settlers nearly killed all of us before letting us settle here. Our tribe is only now beginning to grow again. We wish to survive. Our boats are all repaired. We even made two more. Sinhaya says that the Oneida had warned him that your people have a great hunger for land.”

  Sinhaya said something as he left them. He called out as he walked to the largest of the sinhotebs. Men left their families and fires and one by one followed Sinhaya inside.

&nbs
p; “They will act quickly. You don’t have to fear for us.”

  “I fear for you,” Christabel said quietly.

  “I’m not going.”

  “You have to. I don’t think the preacher cares about the rest of your people. He wants you gone. And if he whips up witch fever, they could...hurt you. And it would be because of me.”

  “What are you saying?” Rahdonee took Christabel’s hand and looked directly into her eyes.

  She shakily related the preacher’s behavior to her from the moment her father had died, and since. “I won’t let him have me, but to keep him away, I have to...marry someone.”

  “I do not understand your people. To be safe you must be the property of a man?”

  “Not property, but protected by, yes.”

  “You can come with us. My people will make you welcome.”

  Christabel closed her eyes, savoring the press of Rahdonee’s fingers against her palm. “I want to say yes. I would say yes, except I can’t leave my mother. Not now. Maybe when we know for sure who’ll take care of her and where she’ll live. She’s defenseless. But until that’s settled, he’ll be after me. He’ll be after her. Every time he talks to her, she gets more frightened. She’ll do almost anything he says. I know it’s a matter of time until she starts urging me to marry him, for my own sake.” Her throat ached as if she’d swallowed a stone. “I don’t know her anymore, but I must stay.”

  “It was selfish of me to ask.” Rahdonee drew a deep breath, and Christabel realized her serenity was badly shaken. “You cannot leave her in his power. But do not say yes to him, because I will wait for you. I will visit you and tell you where we have gone.”

  Christabel nodded numbly, certain she would never see Rahdonee again.

  “Your mother will expect you soon.”

  She shook her head. “She thinks I’m at the Albrights.”

  Rahdonee smiled wanly. “The old excuse again? Were you planning to sleep under the tree tonight?”

  Christabel sent an answer through her own fingertips, which brushed the back of Rahdonee’s hand. “I know who my true love is. I want to spend the night with you.”

  Rahdonee’s brilliant smile brought the first warmth to Christabel’s heart in nearly a week. “Go inside,” she said, “And be comfortable. I have to take care of the fire.”

  In the privacy of the sinhoteb, Christabel removed all her clothes, wanting this night to have nothing held back. Rahdonee slipped through the opening and tied the flap shut.

  “We can be alone,” she murmured, “because I am the medicine keeper, and right now there is no one in my care.”

  Rahdonee discovered the tears on her cheeks and whispered, “Don’t cry. There is always hope.”

  Christabel let Rahdonee pull her down. “I’m frightened. I can’t help it.”

  Rahdonee pulled the bearskin over them, and then dried Christabel’s tears. “Don’t be afraid. This won’t be the last time.” Her gentle touch was a promise. “We will have forever,” she breathed.

  “I did not go to bed with her! I told you.”

  “You’re lying. You smell like sex.”

  “I smell like steak and grilled mushrooms,” I snapped. My stomach rumbled to make a liar of me, but he didn’t hear.

  It was clear he didn’t know what to believe. “If you didn’t sleep with her, why ever not?”

  “She didn’t ask.” A very true lie.

  “But when she does, you’re going to say yes.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Maybe not.”

  I didn’t expect the slap. Leo checked himself just before the blow landed, and it wasn’t very painful, but it scared the shit out of me. He’d never directly struck me before.

  “Listen to me, darling,” he said fiercely. “You will get her into bed, and then you’ll tell me it’s done. I made you and I can take it all away.”

  “You have something to lose, too, if you throw me back in the gutter.”

  “You may be one of a kind, but don’t fool yourself into thinking you can’t be replaced.” He grabbed me by my hair. “This is something you must do, and you must tell me when it’s done.”

  The door to his bedroom opened. “Leonard, darling, what’s going on?” Liza peered out with feigned sleep, but her eyes were bright with curiosity, and it was plain she expected a show of jealousy from me.

  Leo let go of me. “Now go to bed. And no matter what, the next time you see her I don’t want you to come back until she’s fucked you.”

  “Fucking people is what you do, Leo.”

  He twitched as if he would slap me again, then he slowly smiled. It made my skin crawl. It was as if my defiance pleased him, as if I had become a bigger fly for him to gleefully crush. Instead of a slap, he stroked my cheek. “And don’t you forget it, my love.”

  I turned my back on him and Liza’s naked silhouette. I knew my resistance had spared Dina something already, but I didn’t know what. I couldn’t even guess.

  I knew Leo had no desire to get mixed up with the police, so I couldn’t fathom what he was planning for Dina. But it was not going to be pretty, and I had spared her a day or two until it happened. And maybe I could find out what it was and warn her. I owed her that at any price to myself.

  I stood in the darkness of my room and remembered her saying “I love you.” For that moment of happiness I owed her more than I could ever repay. If there was anything I could do to spare her from Leo’s evil spite, I would do it.

  And then, as if a thick curtain pulled across the last light I would ever see, I knew the dark truth. This what was what Leo had wanted all along, for me to have a reason to be willing to do anything he wanted.

  Chapter 13

  The Great Mother was calling her. Rahdonee stirred, felt the soothing warmth of Christabel next to her and wondered what it was that needed her attention.

  The brush of many feet through the clearing outside was unusual so early, but they moved with quiet, unhurried purpose. The first boat was being readied in the first light of day. Sinhaya’s eldest would secure their new settlement. It was a day’s walk from the nearest town, and she could only hope it was far enough.

  The Great Mother stirred in her mind again and she dozed, seeing the first boat leave, then the others with Sinhaya’s other boys. Her dream became drenched with rain, the tears of the Sky God, and the boats scattered in the rising gale of the European hunger for land.

  Christabel’s hand drifted over her stomach, then patted her gently. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she murmured.

  She had never before hoped for the Great Mother to be wrong, but she hoped for it now. How could the world be so small that there was no place her people could rest? We all feed on death, the Great Mother reminded her. But we honor the deer, the bear, Rahdonee answered. These white men dishonor what they feed on, and make us no more than animals so their feeding is not just all right, it’s necessary. It’s what they call moral. I do not understand them.

  You read their holy book, the Great Mother reminded her. Even they know that Evil finds its excuse in the words of Good.

  Almost fully awake now, Rahdonee could picture the preacher in her mind’s eye. Evil walking as Good—his thirst was not for land. He wanted something more precious.

  “Ssh,” Christabel soothed. “Sleep a little more.”

  There was no hope of that, but Rahdonee drew Christabel close. The preacher was not a god, but he acted as if all he saw was his to consume. She would come back for Christabel and her mother, and he would not have this one thing that he wanted. She could not save her people’s way of life, but Christabel she could and would protect.

  After a last pleasant dalliance, Rahdonee slipped outside for water and returned to convince her sleepy love to wake up and dress. She shook the shadows from her mind and kissed Christabel’s eyes. They finally fluttered open and stayed that way.

  “Time for you to go, my love.”

  The dazzling honey brown threatened to draw Rahdonee in for another pleasant hour
under the skins.

  “No, you must leave now.”

  “I had the most beautiful dream,” Christabel whispered. “That you and I were never apart. That we were free to be together, always. And that there were oranges all around the year—isn’t that funny?”

  “Very funny, and you must go. I have a lot of work to do today.”

  Christabel sighed, and then went about making her toilet. When they emerged into the cool early morning air, cheerfully teasing Mintoolows were called to Christabel.

  Rahdonee drew out a handful of herb nuts for the boy who proudly brought the properly saddled mare to Christabel, but Christabel stayed her hand. From her own pocket she drew an English coin. “I don’t know if he’ll have a chance to spend it, but it’s nice to look at, too.”

  The boy was pleased enough, running off to show his friends. Rahdonee walked with Christabel to the path that would take her back to the town. Once they had some privacy in the trees, she gave Christabel a gentle kiss.

  “I promise I will see you again.”

  Christabel’s kiss was more fervent. “I will wait, for always, I promise, too.”

  Still, her heart ached as she helped Christabel up into the saddle, because she knew it would be a long time before she was held in the loving gaze of those fascinating brown eyes. A shadow passed between her and Christabel, and she wondered at it. With a mental shrug, she decided it was her restless dreams catching up with her. But if harm was to come to Christabel, surely she would know. The Great Mother had set her to watch over Christabel and would have sent warning if she was not to let Christabel go home to her mother, who needed her.

  Comforted by that, she let her worry for her people take over, and she spent the day harvesting the herbs that were ready or nearly so. They would have need of seeds and medicines in their new home.

  As she had on her journey up the island, Christabel stopped at the Sacred Tree to let the mare rest. She knew she had to hurry if she was to enter the gates with the usual press of early morning vendors, thereby possibly escaping notice under the cover of her father’s cloak. She patted the mare’s neck as she had seen her father do a thousand times. Yesterday she had been despairing of losing Rahdonee forever, but today her heart was light.