by E. B. Brown
Shedding her dress, she stepped into the shallow pool and sank down onto the flat ledge, closing her eyes to the warmth and wishing it was his arms that surrounded her instead. Was it a matter of forgiveness between them now, some demon they needed to extinguish, or was this the slow tearing of the bonds that held their lifeblood together? Should she feel shame for doing what she thought was best when she believed Winn dead, or should she hold it up and demand it be forgotten, never to be spoke of again? She knew no answer for mending the tear between them.
She felt the water ripple and saw the flash of his bared skin as he dipped beneath the water. His clothes lay in a pile next to hers, and two dead rabbits tied together lay staring with blank eyes at the mouth of the crevice. She closed her eyes when she felt his hands circle her waist and his slick body surfaced in front of her. Like a glorious heathen God, he shook the water from his hair and droplets ran down his rippled chest, dipping into the scarred crease below his left shoulder. She wanted to brush it away, but she was afraid to touch him, fearful to breathe or make a sound lest he go back the way he came.
“Winn, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, pulling back slightly from his kiss. He cupped her face with two wide hands and gently kissed the tear than ran down her cheek.
“As am I, ntehem.”
“But can you ever forgive me?” she whispered.
“Maggie,” he said softly. “You once asked me if I would not do the same, if I was trapped, like you, far away from my home. Yes, I had anger at you! By the Gods, Maggie, I wanted to hurt you for marrying him!” He trembled as he spoke, his eyes skewed into shallow slits and his face contorted in a grimace, as if he pained with each syllable. “But I know why you did it, and when my head cleared, I could not keep anger at you,” he murmured.
“Oh, Winn,” she breathed. “I love you. It’s always been you.”
He pressed his lips to her hair and drew her close.
His hand slid up her back, and she could feel the sensation of something rough yet yielding against her skin. He took her hand in his and placed the object in her outstretched palm. Filled with water and scented with sweet oil, a fat sea sponge sat in her hand. She looked up at him, uncertain of his intention, and was pleased to see the beginning of a smile on his lips.
“Among my people, a story is told of the First Husband,” he said softly. He brought her hand to his chest, where he guided her to make circles across his skin with the sponge. “The man loved a beautiful maiden, and this maiden was as dear to him as the sun is to the moon. He married her, and they lived as one. So blinded by his love for the maiden, he could think of nothing else but her. One day he was called away to hunt, and he left the maiden alone.”
Maggie remained silent, but she followed his lead, and she continued to sponge him gently as he told the story. The sounds of the water lapping against their skin echoed in the cavern, as loud as his shallow breaths upon her skin. His hands settled on her waist, and he pulled her closer, her breasts pushed flat against his chest as she gently scrubbed his shoulders and arms.
“The man never returned to the village, and the maiden knew some evil had taken him from her, since she knew he would never leave her. Soon her family found her another husband, and she married again.” At this his voice dipped lower, and he took the sponge from her to gently caress along her skin. He dabbed her face and neck, and traced tiny circles over her breasts and ribs. “Many moons later the First Husband returned, as he was not dead at all, but only lost in the woods. He challenged the new husband for his wife, and when he won she was returned to him.”
His hand dropped lower to her navel, and paused at her swollen belly before he resumed the gentle rhythm, cleansing the spot where their child grew deep inside her.
“The man took his wife to the river, and there he bathed her. He scrubbed her skin with the bark from a Cyprus tree, scrubbed until her skin lay pink. Then she did the same to him, and they lay together again as man and wife, the sadness of their time apart forgotten. ”
She felt a tear escape down her cheek, and smiled as he brushed it away with the sponge.
“I am clean now,” he said softly. His bright eyes softened of their frantic luster, a calmness washing over him as he gazed down at her.
“As am I, my husband,” she whispered.
Chapter 24
“It is finished. The Council speaks, they say they give us blessing.”
Maggie and Teyas both looked up as Winn entered the cave and made his declaration, the joy in his words streaming from his grinning lips. She jumped to her feet and threw herself into his waiting arms.
“Oh, Winn, that is wonderful!” she cried. She had worried for days what it would mean to him by returning to the village to speak with the Council, but with his safe return, she had hope that someday they may rejoin the Paspahegh. Although they would remain in their secluded valley until the child was born, the support of the Council meant the Paspahegh would not hunt them. The threat from Opechancanough remained, but it was the best they could hope for at this point.
He kissed her soundly, kicking out at Teyas with his toe when she giggled.
“They say Opechancanough sent you to the English, and so as such he must not need your blood. They welcome you back to our tribe. Tonight we will have a great feast to celebrate.”
“Well, I can’t fault their reasoning, but I wish it had nothing to do with your Uncle,” Maggie grumbled. He squeezed her and groaned.
“Ah, woman! You know it has much to do with my Uncle.”
“What about Finola?” she asked. Opechancanough had banished Finola as well, but as she had no husband to speak for her, Winn served as emissary to the Council. Maggie held her breath while waiting for his response.
“If she wishes, she may remain there with the Paspahegh. But the Council fear her, and I worry she may want to return to the English.”
“No! Why would she want that?” she asked, drawing back from his embrace to look up at his face.
Teyas interrupted. “She said she fears she will miss it when it happens if she is not with the English.”
“Miss what?”
“The return of Pale Feather.”
Winn stiffened at her words and his hands fell away from Maggie. Teyas shrugged her shoulders and went back to her work, weaving strips of cured deer hide together for a sleeping mat.
“What did the Witch say of my father?” Winn demanded, his words spoken careful but with clear authority. Teyas sighed.
“Finola sees a night when stars fall from the sky. She sees the English send men to look for the stars, and that is the night Pale Feather will return. She says she must stay with the English for it to pass.”
Maggie felt a stirring in her belly and slid her hand down over the swelling. Surely, it was too soon to feel movement, but she smiled anyway and waited breathlessly to see if it would come again. Winn noticed her shift and eyed her expectantly.
“It’s nothing,” she smiled. He grinned and nodded, looking a bit like a wounded puppy, but kissed her cheek quickly and shook his head.
“So another vision then. She can go to the English if that is her wish, I will not keep her from them,” Winn said. “But you, little one, I will keep you here, in front of my two eyes, so I may never lose you again.” He squeezed her and lifted her off her feet, and a squeal escaped her lips as they laughed. Teyas rolled her eyes skyward, but she also smiled.
It was a blissful peace for the moment, and she was happy to bask in the glorious contentment as long as it would have them.
***
Maggie walked back from the waterfall, a basket of damp clothes balanced on her hip. Her belly had grown somewhat large as the birth approached, as pregnant bellies often do, and she found it harder each day to make the trek down the steep path. She managed well with the constant exercise, pleasantly surprised to see how her body responded to the activity during her pregnancy, but the fatigue now made even the smallest chore seem much more complicated. At times, she felt afraid
of the upcoming birth, but Teyas and Chulensak Asuwak were like hovering hens and they kept her too occupied to dwell on her fears too often. She was glad Winn’s family had joined them at the waterfall, and she hoped they would stay instead of returning to the village.
She smiled at the thought of their faces when she explained how babies were born in her time. A hospital room, male doctors, and spinal anesthesia made quite the impact on them, but once they heard all about it they assured her their ways were much better. Birthing a baby was a sacred event, and the women would take care of her as they cared for each other. Maggie was glad for their kinship, and thankful for their love.
As the cave came in sight, she looked up ahead and spotted Ahi Kekeleksu leading Blaze into the new corral. He smiled and waved, shooting his hand up so fast that the chestnut colt spooked and reared, but the spry boy dodged the animal and managed to get it through the gate.
Maggie was panting when she finally reached him, and she bent over a bit with her hands on her knees to catch her breath before she chastised him. The child knelt down before her and peered up into her eyes. Rebecca came running to help him.
“Tentay teh? Is it your time?” he asked. His large brown eyes were round with excitement.
She could not recover her breath, and then a wave of pressure surged through her back down to her pelvis. She placed her hand on his shoulder, but he was not strong enough to hold her upright when her knees buckled, so he helped lower her to the ground.
“I need Winn,” she managed to groan as another contraction coursed through her. The pains were nearly on top of each other, with no relief in between. Was it normal for labor to start in such a way? In the movies they did things like count minutes between contractions, she thought with a grimace as another wave took her breath away.
“The warriors are hunting – I will get Teyas!” the boy shouted, taking off in a bare footed run up to the cave. She tried to get up, but the next contraction was too strong, and she uttered a scream as she sank down to her knees.
“Oh, Maggie!” Rebecca groaned, patting her back. Maggie glanced sideways at her. The girl looked terrified, and she could hardly blame her. She was close to panicked herself.
She gritted her teeth against the pressure and let out a long groan. She would get her ass up, her child would not be born in the dirt outside the cave! Thrusting both hands against her knees, she pushed up again to stand and felt a warm gush of fluid leave her body.
Relief washed over her when she felt two pairs of hands take her under each arm and assist her to stand. Teyas grinned, and Chulensak Asuwak shook her head.
They led her into the cave, Ahi Kekeleksu and Rebecca trailing behind them.
***
Winn noticed the yard was empty when he approached their camp, which he thought was strange since Ahi Kekeleksu despised being cooped up inside on such a warm day. Winn usually left one of his brothers with the women while he hunted, but with the birth approaching he felt more need to hunt quickly and return so he had taken both brothers with him. They returned with two fair sized deer and a half dozen rabbits, a good amount of game for one day. Hunting was more plentiful near the camp, as the English had not invaded the sanctuary yet.
The boy streaked out of the cave as they approached, his eyes wild and his face flushed with excitement. Winn knew something had happened, and he felt his stomach curl down deep into a knot. He jumped off his horse and ran for the cave.
“The baby, the baby is here!” the boy shouted.
“Maggie? Is she well?” he asked as he passed the boy. The boy grinned.
“Oh yes! She sleeps now!”
Winn let out the air from his lungs and relaxed his tight gripped fists. Ahi Kekeleksu spoke true, and he sank down beside his sleeping wife as she lay on the pallet. He looked up at Teyas and Chulensak Asuwak and felt relieved by their smiles, but he would not be satisfied until her saw her for himself. She was propped up with several pillows, the odd fluffy things she insisted on making before the birth, and he could see why she had wanted the things now. Her crown was streaked with damp sweat that moistened her auburn hair into tiny curls around her face, and he could taste the salt of her work as he kissed her forehead.
The child lay snug in her arms. Eyes closed in sleep amongst a round chubby face with a swatch of dark hair, he marveled at the lightly bronzed skin and pert rounded nose. When Maggie gently touched his face, he clasped her hand and pressed it hard to his lips, so that he could have another moment to look at the child and find the right words to show his wife his joy.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Maggie whispered. His eyes shifted to hers.
“She?”
“Yes…your daughter,” she smiled.
“Oh,” he breathed. “Kwetii.” The baby opened her eyes, blinking deep blue orbs several times until finally she stared up at him. Her bow-shaped mouth parted as he gazed at her, and then her face puckered into a mewling cry. His daughter. She was beautiful.
Maggie raised her eyebrows, and he whispered, “It means Little One. I call her Little One,” he explained.
“Shh, shhh, here,” Maggie cooed, placing the infant to her breast. Winn slid beside her on the furs and wrapped his arms around them both as the baby fed.
“I am sorry I was not here,” he said softly. She turned and kissed him as the baby continued to peacefully nurse.
“You are here now. Thank you for bringing more food, I think I’m hungry now,” she smiled. He groaned and clutched her against his chest.
“Thank you for…for her. For you. God, I love you, woman! And yes, I will feed you…but let us wait. I would watch you both for a bit longer.”
Maggie nodded. Winn settled back, his head resting on her shoulder as they watched their daughter.
***
Maggie heard the riders at the same time as Winn, as they made no effort to conceal their approach. She had been nursing Kwetii while sitting on the grass watching the others, but at the sight of the three men jumping off their horses she let her deerskin mantle drop lightly over the head of the child. She had grown accustomed to nursing the babe in front of her family, but her modesty was too ingrained to do so in front of strangers.
Winn greeted the riders, and by his friendly demeanor, she could see the warriors were no threat to them. They had lived peacefully on the mountain for more than six months, and although they often discussed where they would settle more permanently, Maggie secretly hoped they could stay where they were forever. Winn, however, reminded her it was too close to the English for him to feel secure, and Opechancanough would always pose a threat to them. Although his Uncle had not chosen to prevent Winn leaving the tribe, Winn did not trust the man not to retaliate at some point, and he felt very strongly they should soon move north out of his reach.
Now as the familiar warriors spoke with her husband, she wondered what news they carried from the tribe. They were clearly Powhatan, wearing the distinct scalp lock hair, a fully shaved head except for one central piece that trailed in a long braid down their back, favored by the most honored warriors. By the way Winn spoke to them, she thought he must know them, and as she approached with the babe, he offered no warning so she felt more secure.
She felt their gaze as she stood next to Winn, the surprise evident in their eyes as she stood beside her husband. Winn spoke rapidly in Paspahegh to them, nodded toward her, and then did something that startled her. He unsheathed his knife and with one quick flick, he sliced a line across the skin of his forearm. When it surged with blood, he dipped his finger into it, and then ran it across the baby’s brow.
“Tell Opechancanough I will not give him my blood. I cannot help him,” Winn said.
One of the warriors shook his head, his eyes widening at the words Winn spoke, and he issued a frantic response Maggie could not decipher.
“What does your Uncle want?” Maggie interrupted.
Winn answered the warrior, and turned to Maggie.
“He asks too much,” he said. “He
wants me to join him at a feast with the English. The whites tire of the fighting, and they offer a peace treaty if Opechancanough will come eat with them.”
“But does this mean your Uncle forgives you for leaving?” she asked, hoping it would be a way for Winn to return to his people. Winn shook his head.
“I know not except that if I deny him, he will consider it a great insult. He asks me to sit by his side at this meal.”
The thought of insulting the Weroance left a sour taste in her throat, especially considering the last encounter she had with the man. She did not fully trust the Weroance, but she could not let Winn pass over the chance to mend the strain between him and his Uncle. They not only had themselves to think about, but their family as well.
“But if you insult him, he may come for us,” she said softly.
“I would go, but he asks for more than I can give. He wants the Red Woman there as well. I will not take you, and I cannot leave you here unprotected. There is no other choice.”
“I will go with you.”
Maggie said the words and knew he would refuse, but she had to convince him it was the only way. If there was a chance to make peace with the Weroance, they would all sleep better for it, and perhaps they would not have to live always waiting for an enemy to strike.
“Please, Winn. If it will calm your Uncle’s hatred, I will go with you. It will make life much safer for us all,” she pleaded. She tried to keep calm as he looked hard at her, and then the child. He glanced back at the cave, where Ahi Kekeleksu stood watching with Teyas. Finally, he issued a quick response to the visitors, and although they nodded in respect as they left, she could see their faces streaked with anger.
She followed Winn back to the cave, wondering what the refusal would cost them.
Chapter 25
Kwetii squealed as Maggie placed her on the soft swaddling blanket, tiny feet kicking at the empty air as her round red faced puckered to make her happy noise. Maggie reached down to the child and tickled her tummy as she patted her dry, eager to dress her before she sat up in the dirt, which was her most favorite thing to do. Winn thought her strange for covering the child, but Maggie held fast to her ingrained notions of propriety and insisted on dressing the child instead of allowing her to roll around naked.
