According to the English in charge now, all people were still welcome. Commerce had been reestablished, and all around him, and the city slowly came to life once again. Grey Wolf kissed the necklace. He knew that his sister was still alive. Some day, she would wear this necklace. He would present it to her in honor of their kinship and unbreakable bond.
Grey Wolf closed his eyes and prayed to the Creator that Katari was unharmed, and experiencing the most wonderful adventure of all her youthful dreams.
~~~~~
Katari was well pleased with the healing progress of her thigh. The previous evening, they had made a small camp near another fresh stream that surged down from the growing mountains above and poured onward toward the Hudson that flowed to their east.
She had cleansed the wound again and packed it with more pine resin poultice. There was very little discharge this time around, and much less pain. She thanked the Creator, for it was a very good sign for the best outcome. And, she did not have to endure the embarrassment of fainting in front of Nicholas and Opichi again.
Now, it seemed they were reaching the outskirts of the town Nicholas had called Beverwijck. She could see a cluster of buildings in the distance, many with Dutch-style gabled roofs. There were also tents, various sheds and shacks made of wood, and even a few hastily constructed wigwams scattered about.
As they entered the bustling settlement, Katari could see a well-sized town center, complete large wooden stages and many benches. One of such stages was filled with people. Their voices were raised in a commotion that she could not understand at all. A single man stood up on a hefty crate in the center of the stage, yelling his head off like he had lost all of his wits.
Nicholas explained to her that a public auction was like trade between fifty men at once, yet with only one winner finishing the verbal race as the buyer. It was an interesting concept, and it sounded exciting to her. She wished that she had something of value to participate with.
A man rode up next to Nicholas and Katari with a wave and a wide grin. “Welcome to Handelstijd!” The man seemed extremely happy. His eyes were large and brown, with sagging shadows underneath them, yet they sparkled with mirth. His nose was a bit bulbous and quite redder than any nose she had seen before.
The man winked at Katari, and she gave him a half-smile. The strange man also smelled a bit like a bottle of spirits, even though the sun was at its zenith in the blue sky above. He kicked at his horse and rode off at a shuffling trot.
Glancing back at Nicholas, she saw that he did not appear excited by the man’s open and zealous welcome. “What is wrong?” she questioned, viewing his drawn brows.
“It appears that we have arrived during a certain type of festivity. It will be hard to find lodging. And young, innocent women are not exactly suitable for this environment,” he added dourly.
Katari glanced around, noting brick homes emerging among the shabbier dwellings, as well. There appeared to be a White church, a courthouse, and many businesses. Everywhere, people were bustling about. Many were White, but there were other Native peoples in the mix as well. “Well, it is certainly not New Amsterdam, but it appears to be a thriving village.”
Nicholas nodded. “It does thrive for certain. There is a major trade route from this city to the western Great Lakes, and that is why this place is full of people. I came through here with Pétant months ago on my journey to New Amsterdam.”
The blue of the Hudson stretched visibly in the distance, and again, she inhaled the scent of river and open wharf. An osprey with a five foot wingspan arched across the sky above. Katari was thrilled at the new sights and smells.
“The English will be coming soon, however,” Nick replied to her excited glances, “And this town was founded by the Dutch. Ahead, behind those spindly walls, is what is known as Fort Orange on the Hudson. In my estimation, it is not likely to stop a single, English solider from advancing.”
There was a wooden stockade around the fort, but it was in somewhat obvious disrepair. She could discern a canon behind it, though. Weapons such as those frightened her. They were a hundred times the size of a musket, and she knew what the much smaller weapons could do when packed with a tiny lead ball. Katari bit her lip. “Well, I hope there shall be no hysteria here when they do.”
“Surely, they have heard of the coming exchange of power by now,” Nicholas returned. “But I don’t believe anything will stand between these people and their season of Handelstijd. Believe me, Katari; making war against the English is the furthest thing from their minds.”
“Yes, what does this Handelstijd entail? It is Dutch, yet I am not familiar with that word.”
Nicholas sighed glumly. “It entails all manner of revelry, Katari. It is a season that begins in early May and will run until near November. It’s the peak of trade, and trappers of all race will come and go like the tides. These types of settlements triple in population and many new trade goods are brought within during the season. Money flows. So does the drink. That, among other vices.”
Katari opened her mouth to ask about other vices, but then closed it abruptly when she realized what he might mean. She sighed, for it seemed that her hopes were thwarted at every turn. Would that she could revel as well, and rejoice in this adventure!
She had always dreamed of such celebrations and the indulgence of infamous White spirit-drink – something she had never before tried. Laughter and dancing. Flirting. Nicholas beneath the bedroll, warm and breathing against her. Her face flamed a bit at her wayward thoughts, and she cast a guilty glance at Opichi riding quietly beside them.
~~~~~
With Katari’s skill at the Dutch language, Nick was able to find them a small room and only have to pay for a week’s stay at a fair rate. Many of the rooms were rented out for upwards of a month or two already. If you were merely passing through, you either camped in the outlying forest or paid exorbitantly for the cover of a shack. Living quarters of any decency were in short supply and premium price during Handelstijd.
Nick passed his hand over his pouch of remaining guilders, the most common coinage of the New Netherlands. It was dwindling. If he purchased a third riding horse, it would be gone entirely. Now, Nicholas wished he hadn’t spent his coin like he was of noble birth in New Amsterdam. But it certainly had been the most splendid experience of his harsh life to date.
Although, he admitted that such an indulgence could make a man feel like he was worth more than he was entitled to get. He never would have dreamed of the life that he now lived as that twelve-year old vagrant boy in Lachine. Only in this new, wild world could a man raise himself up out of the gutter and earn himself riches through hunting and trapping.
If a trapper was diligent and talented, he could earn up to five years of farm wages in one year of successful fur-taking. However, it was also easy to be robbed or cheated, both of which had happened to Nicholas in years past. He had learned every lesson the difficult way, but he was a much wiser man.
Now, Nicholas watched as Katari and Opichi bustled about the small room, peeking into drawers, opening and shutting the single closet at least five times, and examining the straw bed ticking. He doubted it was as clean as a Native woman would want, but it was the best he could do in such a town. He chuckled, amused by the fact that the girls had found the latch of a door so damned entertaining, although he knew it would not last. Their natural and unstoppable curiosity was going to be a problem for him.
Both women chattered together with words he did not recognize as Opichi located a broom and began sweeping the dusty floor, while Katari went to work cleaning the table and counters with a rag left from her leggings. When she went on her knees with her pert bottom up in the air to work at some stain, it appeared that her thigh did not give her much pain this day.
Yet apparently, his pain for her still grew. Nicholas quite vividly remembered how her body felt tucked firmly against his. As well as the way the bare skin of her neck tasted on his lips. It had made him envision kissing the rest
of her body, several times now.
Nick scowled and looked away, once again. He just wasn’t going to do it again. He stomped out of the room, deciding that the ponies tied outside deserved a currying and some fresh grass.
~~~~~
Nicholas returned at dusk, after taking a roundabout trip through the settlement. He had determined that there were both good and bad elements to the raucous little town. The spirits of the inhabitants were generally high, and an air of good-will prevailed. But there were too many bottles of liquor for sale at any given inn, and not enough law in observance for him to have peace about his situation.
Had he been alone, he would have slipped into the mix just fine. The sweetly enticing innocence of Katari and Opichi would be much like a beacon to the hungry men-folk that abounded.
There were women within the settlement, of course. They were the kind that belonged and made their way in the rough outposts with their charms, or by being taken as a country wife by a needful trapper. But more than likely, there were not enough women to keep every man happy. Not when the liquor flowed freely.
His arms were full of food and ammunition. He’d bargained and haggled with every ounce of wit he possessed to fetch the best deal. It wasn’t easy.
“Nicholas!” Both women called his name in unison as he entered. Their faces were alight with pleasure to see him, and they rushed to excitedly observe his purchases. It was a surreal feeling, and more than a bit odd, but it warmed him nonetheless. It made him miss his friend Pétant as well. The sentiment that women could make a man soft at heart was accurate. It was just as true that a woman’s presence made a man feel at home.
Sighing, he handed over his goods to them. He had purchased a slice of salted ham, cornmeal, turnips, and carrots to give to the girls, and they were soon at work preparing a meal over the small corner hearth, chattering noisily all the while.
He sat down in a chair, and perused the handbill he’d received from an inn owner, scratching at his beard in contemplation. Katari soon approached in the corner of his vision, peeping over his shoulder, as curious as ever.
“Can you read it?” she asked, trying to peer closer. It was written in Dutch, and although he had heard the gist of what it said from several of the townsmen, he handed it to her.
“Can you, curious Kat?” he mused, watching the expressions on her face as her eyes flew over the slip of paper and narrowed in concentration.
“Why, it’s a marksmanship contest. You shoot something called a parrot, and the winner is named King of Marksmen and receives many grand prizes. There will be food and festivities. What is a parrot?”
“A parrot is an exotic bird from a far distant country, one with many bright and beautiful colors in its feathers. Reds, blues, yellows, greens – almost all of them. I believe these folk are intending to use a wooden target, and make a big game out of it. It’s apparently a grand tradition.”
Katari looked at him with excitement brimming in her gold-flecked eyes. “Oh, I wish I could see such a parrot, and such a contest. Are you a marksman, Nicholas? Will you enter this game?”
He nodded slowly. “I am low on guilders. I suppose it is worth a try. I’ve seen some with better aim than I, but half of this town appears to be drunk by nightfall.”
Katari fluttered back to Opichi, and set off another round of animated and chattering Native words between them as she spread the news of the marksmanship contest. When he closed his eyes, it was beginning to sound almost…soothing.
~~~~~
Everything was still and quiet. One lone candle was left to burn on the roughly-hewn wooden table. It was wasteful, Katari knew, but it was only a stub of wax. It cast a comforting glow onto the walls and ceiling, and she needed it this particular night.
In her Native forest, the stars and the moon emitted a glimmer that could never be utterly extinguished. Even within wigwams, there was a hole in the roof above the fire pit, exposing a perfect circle of the night sky.
A full, wooden ceiling and stout, plank walls shut out the wink of the stars and moon, and left their current room as black as pine pitch. She was becoming used to it, having slept in such quarters while visiting New Amsterdam. However, she still found it hard to sleep without the soft kiss of the Grandmother moon.
Katari nearly giggled, remembering how Mingan, her twin, had the same difficulty sleeping in New Amsterdam without the moonlight to soothe him. She knew that he roamed in the dark restlessly. The creaking of the pine boards at night gave away his weakness, which was often followed by a muffled curse of warrior indignation.
She heard Nicholas begin to snore lightly somewhere to her right. Katari’s brow furrowed as the direction of her thoughts spun yet again toward him. Confusion hounded her still. She did not understand why the odd White man and his Country Wife did not sleep on the same mattress. Although she would most certainly not enjoy hearing them together, she would make do as many of her people did, when families shared lodges.
Yet, Nicholas had rolled out his bedding on the hard plank floor, and insisted that Katari and Opichi occupy the two mattresses. Alone. He was grumpy again, as well.
While Katari did not know the Ojibwe word for marriage, she did know the word for love. She had even clasped her hands over her heart for emphasis when asking Opichi the question that had been plaguing her for days.
Yes, Opichi had nodded emphatically, she loved Nicholas. So, why did they not sleep as one? For some reason, Nicholas was avoiding Opichi due to Katari’s presence. It needled her now, like the itchy straw she was laying on.
Rolling on her left side, the straw that was jabbing at her back in the ticking now pricked at her thigh. And the globe of her left breast. She wiggled again. Finally, she sat up, swinging her bare thighs over the edge of the mattress. Her toes met the pine floor and tested it gently.
Due to the candle’s faint and sputtering glow, she could make out Nicholas’s sleeping form on the floor. When she put her full weight on the balls of her feet, and no creaking escaped, she dared to inch closer. When he didn’t wake, she squatted beside him to observe the steady rise and fall of his chest. Yes, the Whites were definitely deep sleepers and unaware in their dreams just as her brother had once said.
When a hand closed firmly around her ankle and pulled, she barely stifled her scream of surprise.
Chapter 7
Katari’s rump hit the hard, pine floor with a resounding smack. Before she could even draw a breath, the hand that had grasped her ankle encircled her throat and gripped it tightly.
Nicholas’s face was thrust into hers quite suddenly. “Katari?” he whispered. “What in the name of hell are you doing? I could have hurt you.”
“You did,” she whispered back heatedly when he released her neck, and rubbed at her throbbing thigh. Her old wound now ached worse than did her buttocks. She was mildly astonished at his deadly speed and the amount of strength that he possessed in one large hand.
He expelled a loud breath. “I thought you were an intruder bent on…taking things.” He sat up and peered through the dimness at her bare leg. “Katari, why aren’t you wearing clothes?”
Katari noticed that Nicholas’s voice was turning grumpy again, even though he still whispered. “I am wearing clothes,” she hissed back, plucking at her tunic. “Minsi don’t sleep with leggings on except in the dead of winter. And if they sleep with a warm enough mate, perhaps not even then!”
Nicholas groaned and lay back against his bedroll, closing his eyes.
“Nicholas. Why are you not sleeping with Opichi?” she finally forced herself to question him.
She saw his eyes open again and fix on her firmly. They were very dark in the murkiness of the room, and she could only see a bit of dancing candlelight reflected in them. She trembled while awaiting his response, afraid of the fact that he was unreadable in the gloom.
“I would never force myself on any woman, Katari,” he muttered grimly, “especially Opichi. She has been through very much.”
�
��But, she has said to me that she loves you, Nicholas!”
“She loves me, yes, and I love her, but not the way…I would not…”
“Opichi is not your Country Wife?”
“No. You thought that she was?”
“Yes.” She decided to continue on doggedly. “Why do you have no wife, Nicholas?”
He sighed heavily but did not reply for several, long moments. “Please go back to your bed, Katari. You need rest and so do I.”
She felt chastised, and the fierce and burning sting of it surprised her. Silently, she rose and returned to her itchy ticking and crawled in. Now, she would be prickled again, and this time it would accompany a sore rump and thigh.
As she lay there, she thought that perhaps Nicholas had a wife elsewhere, or a woman that he pined for mightily. It was the only solution that made sense. The alternative was that Nicholas found Native women to be unattractive. Katari did not know which outcome would be worse.
~~~~~
Katari was unusually quiet, almost sullen, Nicholas observed with a sigh. Such an odd occurrence couldn’t bode well for him this morning. Furthermore, Opichi stared at him with openly raised eyebrows that hinted of distain. He was forever doing something wrong around women. What was it today?
He cleared his throat. “We might as well take a stroll around the settlement,” he conceded. It was obvious that the girls were tired of their confinement already. In the morning hours, the town would be fairly safe, though he did not really have the extra coin to waste on trinkets.
It was amusing how quickly their expressions changed with the news. “I would also like the doctor to look at Katari’s leg,” he added quickly.
Savage Journey Page 6