They were brought back to Powan’s house then, and given bowls of meat in gravy. Jassy looked at the food suspiciously, but she was ravenous, and when she tasted the stew, it was delicious. Hope came back to them soon and told them that the meal had been rabbit, and that they needn’t fear eating—the Pamunkees did not poison their captives; when they meant to kill them, they did so with a feast and lots of entertainment so that the deaths could be enjoyed.
“What is happening?” Jassy asked Hope.
“They are talking about you again in a council. Pocanough says that he wants you, and that he will have you. Powan says no, that he is the chief, that he will wait and see if your husband lived through the massacre and if he will come for you.”
Elizabeth was poking at her stew. Jassy glanced at her quickly, then looked at Hope again. “Someone will come. They will come from the other hundreds—”
“Maybe. Eventually. But it was not only the Carlyle Hundred that was attacked. We came off very lightly, they are saying. The Indians managed to kill only twenty or thirty whites in a population of over two hundred. At Martin’s Hundred, half were killed. It is the same at many of the others. Jamestown was spared, for the people were warned. Jamie saved many by being prepared; they say that you saved many by sounding the alarm.”
“The entire Virginia colony was attacked?” Elizabeth whispered in horror.
Hope nodded gravely. “Opechancanough ordered it so.”
“Why?” Jassy breathed.
“He wants his land back, I suppose,” Hope said.
Jassy touched her hand suddenly. “Thank you, Hope. Thank you for coming with us. Why—why did you do it? You did not have to.”
Hope shrugged. She lowered her head. “I lied to you. I was jealous. I wanted your husband, and I told you that I knew him to make you mad. He loves you. It was wrong.”
Jassy inhaled softly. “I—I don’t think that he loves me.”
“Yes, yes, he does. He loves you very much.” She smiled. “If he can come, he will. Powan expects him. He says that Jamie will come alone. Pocanough thinks that Jamie should be slain, but Powan says that Jamie is fair, and he will be fair too. If Pocanough wants to fight Jamie for you, that will be all right. Whichever man lives will have you, and if both are killed, you will belong to Powan. That is what I think that they are deciding.”
Jassy shivered, then she looked at Elizabeth again. She couldn’t tell what her sister had heard, and what she had comprehended. Elizabeth had never looked more fragile, or more beautiful. Her soft blond hair curled softly about her face and her flower-blue eyes. The leather apron exposed a great deal of her fair, silky skin, enhancing the fullness of her breasts and the long, shapely length of her legs. Jassy looked at Hope. Hope shook her head and left them quickly.
In the afternoon one of the women came back with a bag of grain and a mortar and pestle, trying to show them that they must work. Jassy shook her head, and Elizabeth stubbornly followed suit. The young woman looked at them angrily, then returned with one of the matrons with a long reed. The older woman began with Jassy, lashing out at her with hard, stinging blows. Jassy screamed and covered her face and fell to the ground so that the blows could be deflected by the leather upon her back.
Suddenly the blows stopped.
“Stop it! Stop it!” she heard Elizabeth shrieking.
Her sister—her sweet, shy sister—was on top of the Indian woman, wrenching the reed from her hands and wrestling her in a fury. Jassy staggered to her feet, hurrying to Elizabeth’s aid. Just then, Powan came back into the house.
In a fury, he tugged up both her and Elizabeth by the hair. The older woman—with a bleeding lip, thanks to Elizabeth’s tender touch—began to rant and rail and lash out at the white woman again. Powan thundered out in fury and pushed the two of them to the far rear of the house. He sent the woman away.
Jassy held still, watching the tall, muscled Indian pick up the reed. He came over to them and waved it in front of them. “Everyone works. You work too. Next time I will let them beat you until the blood flows from your flesh.”
He dropped the reed and turned and left them. Hope returned with the wheat they were to grind. Looking at Elizabeth’s smudged face, Jassy had to smile. “You are a fighter!” She laughed.
Elizabeth flushed. “She was beating you. I could not stand by and watch it.”
Impulsively Jassy hugged her. Hope cleared her throat and told them that they must finish their work. “Everyone works to eat. It is the way that it is done,” she said, looking at them anxiously.
Jassy and Elizabeth looked at each other and shrugged, and then set forth on their task. If it could remain so, if they could grind wheat by day and have Powan’s protection by night, then they could survive until … Until Jamie came, if he was alive to do so.
And if he could survive Pocanough.
If things could just stay the same …
But things were not to stay the same. That night, when Powan came back to his house, he dragged them both to their feet. He stared at Jassy and pulled on the amulet she wore around her neck so that it hung low over her breasts. His mere touch upon them caused her to wince, and he smiled, slowly and curiously. She gasped, stunned, when he ripped open her garment, baring her to the waist. Her breasts, so heavy and painful now, surged forth. She tried to cover herself, and he grabbed her hands, wrenching them around behind her back and holding her tautly to his chest with just one hand to imprison her. “You tempt me, Cameron’s woman.” She gritted her teeth against the humiliation and pain as he moved his fingers over the full globes of her breasts, pausing to flick the nipples and see them fill with milk. She wanted to lash out at him; she was afraid that she would fall, and she hadn’t the strength to free herself from his powerful hold. “You tempt me, yes … but James Cameron is a man I will give a chance.”
She opened her eyes wide upon his, aware that Powan was taunting her but that she would even be spared rape because of the man her husband was.
She heard a sudden hissing noise, and then fists slammed against Powan’s back. Elizabeth! She was even daring to attack the Indian brave in Jassy’s defense.
“Elizabeth!” she cried, but it was too late. Powan had already shoved her aside and clutched Elizabeth to him. He smiled, looking down at Elizabeth. He had her wrist and pulled her inexorably closer. “No!” Elizabeth murmured, shaking her head.
“Powan! Please—” Jassy began. She raced back to him, trying to swing the solid brave around. “Please don’t. She is Jamie’s sister-in-law! She is afraid of you, she will hate you—”
He started to laugh, and his eyes swept over her, lingering on her naked breasts and slim waist. “She is not his wife, and a captive need not love a captor.”
“You can’t!” Jassy cried, flinging herself against him.
She scratched, she raked, she sobbed, and she fought him very bitterly, but he was quickly on top of her, despite Elizabeth’s harrying him from behind. Powan got Jassy down upon her stomach, and he laced her wrists together with a strip of rawhide, then dragged her to a corner where he tied the rawhide to a stake.
“Leave her alone!” Elizabeth cried, thundering upon his back. “Leave her alone!”
He tied Jassy securely.
“Leave her alone!” Elizabeth cried again. Jassy saw his jaw harden as Elizabeth’s nails raked his bare flesh. He ignored the attack, and his dark eyes found Jassy’s. “Don’t make me forget who you are, Cameron’s woman,” he warned her.
“You can’t—” she said, but he had already spun around and seized Elizabeth.
Jassy strained against her bonds in agony. She heard her sister scrambling away, gasping, sobbing, no longer seeking to attack but trying with all her heart to escape.
Bracing herself, she strained against the pole as she heard the frantic fight that ensued, a fight that was quickly ended.
She heard Elizabeth’s piercing scream.
And she heard the sounds of Powan moving over her sister, breathing rag
gedly, ramming his body again and again. She heard the Indian’s emission of a pleased grunt. She heard it all, burning inwardly and outwardly, wishing she could scream and scream and scream, just so that she would not have to hear what went on.
But she could hear. She heard Powan fall from Elizabeth, and then she heard her sister sobbing through the night. She could not go to her; she could not even talk to her. Elizabeth slept with the Indian brave. In the dim firelight Jassy could see that her sister was imprisoned by a strong brown arm. Elizabeth had gone silent, still and silent. Jassy wondered if she slept. She did not sleep again herself that night.
In the morning Powan slit the ties that bound Jassy to the pole before he left the house. Jassy stared at him with hard reproach, but he impassively ignored her. As soon as he had stepped from the doorway, she crawled over to Elizabeth. Elizabeth flinched from her touch and looked, dazed, into her eyes. “Oh, Jassy!” Tears welled within the deep blue pools. “Oh, Jassy, it was awful!”
Jassy held her and rocked her.
Then Elizabeth began to swear. She talked about how she hated the Indian and how she would one day cut his heart out and toss it into a fire while he still lived. Jassy finally encouraged Elizabeth to get up, and she worked on adjusting both of their outfits so that they might decently make it to the brook. People watched them as they walked, but no one tried to stop them. Jassy kept a sharp lookout, desperate now that they might find a way to escape. But although no one impeded their way, there were Indians everywhere, the men and the women, watching them. Escape would be difficult.
“He’ll do it again!” Elizabeth stormed at the brook.
There was nothing that Jassy could say to reassure her. She could not fight and save her. Powan didn’t give a damn about either of them, but in his curious way he did care about Jamie, and if she wanted just to spare Elizabeth, Powan still would not take her in her sister’s stead.
“We’ll escape,” she promised. “We’ll escape.”
But they didn’t escape that day, and by night, Powan seized Jassy and brought her, screaming and thrashing, to be tied to the pole again.
And he seized upon Elizabeth again. The only difference was that Elizabeth no longer cried when it was over.
They had to escape.
But two weeks later they had not.
They were coming to know the Pamunkee way of life. Powan was the chief of this tribe, and he spent much of his time in council meetings and debate. He was also a hunter and a warrior, and he expected his woman to serve him. A Pamunkee could take as many wives as he could provide for, so it was natural that he had laid claim to the women hostages, and that he held them for whatever trade it might take to return them.
After the initial torture by the other women, Jassy and Elizabeth were fairly much left alone. Hope continued to be their friend, and to keep them advised of what was happening.
In the morning they bathed and were set to work, either with grain or mending, or with plucking a wild turkey, or skinning or tanning. Neither of them took easily to the tasks, for although they were accustomed to days of work, preparing skins for clothing was hard and arduous. They were corrected many times by the Indian women when they stretched and scraped and cleaned and dried the skins. Jassy didn’t mind the days. She came to like the mornings and bathing in the cool brook. She didn’t mind the labor because it kept her mind busy.
She hated the nights. There was no way to avoid hearing Powan and her sister, and there was no way to avoid lying there and wondering if Daniel was all right, if he missed her, if he was being loved and cared for, if he was being fed and tended gently. And there was no way not to wonder about Jamie. If he was alive, he would come for her. He would have to. Whether he cared for her or not, he would have to come. It would be part of his code of honor. He would have to save her from the Indians … just so that he could send her home to England. Alone.
Somewhere in the third week of their captivity, things took on a subtle change, and Jassy was never quite sure just when it had happened. The noises she heard at night began to change. Powan had apparently determined to seduce rather than ravage. Jassy heard Elizabeth panting and gasping and emitting soft moans and whimpers, and then startling cries. Realizing what she heard now, Jassy closed her eyes in mortification and turned to the wall of saplings, gritting her teeth through the night. Once she had twisted to awaken and see in the firelight the two of them standing together, gleaming and golden, and Powan tenderly stroking her sister’s nakedness. Ashamed, Jassy closed her eyes and rolled again, keeping her eyes tightly closed. She heard whispers that meant nothing, yet meant everything. She tried not to listen, but she could not help feeling an anguished longing deep inside and wishing that time could be erased, that she could be lying with her husband as Elizabeth lay with the Pamunkee.
Powan called Elizabeth his golden bird. He was coming to care for her very deeply, and Elizabeth was coming to blush when the Indian’s name was spoken.
Jassy was growing desperate to escape.
On the twenty-fifth day of their captivity, she realized that by mid-morning there were few braves about. The women were busy and were accustomed to Elizabeth and her being busy too. If they came back from bathing, then calmly walked away into the forest, they might not be missed for several hours, enough time to give them a good head start.
Elizabeth argued with Jassy. “We don’t know where we are!”
“The James River lies to the south of us. I need only find the river and follow it. I would have to find Jamestown. I can do it, Elizabeth, I can lead us home. I know it.”
“We will run on foot. They will come after us on horses.”
“We will hide. They will give up. And we might find white men in the forest, looking for us.” At last Elizabeth agreed.
The sounds in the darkness lasted longer than usual the night before they were to escape. Jassy thought that Elizabeth was telling her lover good-bye.
With the dawn, they went to the brook as usual. Hope brought them a turkey to pluck that morning, and Jassy whispered that they were going to escape. “Will you come?”
Hope thought about it for a minute. “No. If I am caught helping you, they will punish me as a traitor.”
Jassy did not ask what they would do to Hope. She didn’t want to know. She hugged the girl fiercely and promised her that they would meet again.
She waited another half hour or so, then tapped Elizabeth on the shoulder. They came out together and stretched, as if taking a brief break from their labors. No one paid them any heed. Jassy motioned toward the trail that had brought them to the village, and they calmly started walking along the dirt.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Elizabeth whispered. “We will probably perish. We will be consumed by insects. What if we are struck by a venomous snake?”
“Save your breath and walk,” Jassy commanded her.
They had walked about an hour when they came upon the horses. Jassy grasped Elizabeth and pulled her into the bushes. One of the horses was a spotted mare. Jassy had seen it before. She had ridden upon it when Pocanough had abducted her to the village. “It is a hunting party!” she told Elizabeth.
“What will we do?”
“Just stay silent until they have passed us by.”
Even as she whispered, the Indians returned to their horses, leaping upon them. Jassy saw Pocanough. He wore rawhide boots up to his ankles, his breechclout, a band with feathers across his forehead, and nothing more. He was with five other men. He already had several pheasants tied over his horse’s haunches, brought down with his arrows.
The men all mounted. They laughed and joked, ready to ride on.
Suddenly Elizabeth gasped. Jassy heard the soft sound of a rattle. She looked around and saw that a snake, posing to strike, lay within range of the bushes where they hid. They must have disturbed the creature or its nest.
“Damn!” she cried in anguish, wrenching Elizabeth from their position and rolling with her far from the snake’s possi
ble strike zone … and right into the path of the Pamunkee warriors.
When Jassy looked up, Pocanough had stopped his mount right before her, the animal’s hooves so close that he could crush her head any second.
He started to dismount. Jassy saw the malicious pleasure in his eyes. She leapt to her feet and ran.
She didn’t care about snakes or brambles or the insects or anything else; she ran in panic into the trees and through them. She heard Pocanough thrashing behind her.
She ran until her heart hurt and her lungs burned and her legs were in agony. She ran until she felt that her insides were bursting, and that she would die if she took another step. Still she kept running.
But the Indian knew his way, and suddenly he was in front of her in a copse instead of behind her. Gasping, clutching her heart, and inhaling desperately, Jassy reeled back. Pocanough smiled, leapt upon a fallen tree, and sprang for her, knocking her to the ground with the impetus of his pounce.
She screamed and twisted beneath him. He tried to subdue her, catching her hands. She escaped his hold and rent a long scratch down his cheek. That angered him. He slapped her hard, and she caught her breath, dizzy from the blow. He lifted his hand to slap her again, and she thought that that was it; she could fight no more. Her strength was deserting her.
Then suddenly, out of the clear blue, a pair of bronze hands set themselves upon the warrior’s shoulders, and Pocanough was wrenched cleanly and clearly away from her.
Jamie had been despairing, aware that he could never give up, but sinking lower into depression day by day.
Jamie had combed the peninsula. He had gone to Opechancanough, despite the massacre of the whites, and he had walked into the great chief’s village with such arrogance that the chief had let him live. Opechancanough had told him that Powan had his wife and her sister but that he did not know where Powan was. Jamie would have to find him. It would be treacherous. Yes, he had ordered the whites attacked. All of the whites. He’d had a vision. They would keep coming and coming, and there could be no peace. The Indians would be absorbed into the earth, and the great Powhatan Confederacy would be no more. “The English must leave. My people know this. If they find you in the forest, James Cameron, they will probably kill you.”