by Mike Rhynard
Waters smiled, crossed his arms across his chest. “Do you, indeed?”
“Aye, I do.”
“Well, since you seem reluctant to reveal your secret to the rest of us, I shall say that you have less military training than that large spider climbing up your leg.”
Sampson frantically bent over, brushed his legs, shuffled his feet; finding no spider, he glared at Waters amidst a sudden din of hearty laughter.
Waters gnawed on his lower lip to avoid smiling. “With all due respect for your intelligence, Master Sampson, please consider the possibility of a Powhatan strategy that draws a large portion of our force away from the palisades, so they can then strike the weakened, remaining force with overwhelming strength.”
“Foolery! Savages are not that intelligent.” He glanced down his legs, again checked for spiders.
“On the contrary, Master Sampson, such thinking is common among them; and I suggest that you, and perchance others of your persuasion, would scream the loudest when hordes of Savages came pouring through the palisades, bent on your annihilation. And I doubt, at that moment, you would see the merit of having dispatched a large part of our force in cold, blind, nighttime pursuit of a swifter force that knows where it’s going . . . oh yes, and our force with the matches on its matchlocks glowing in the dark like small torches.”
“You insult me, Waters, because I disagree with you, and you can ill tolerate it. I hold that you should have sent a contingent to help Master Chapman find his wife rather than forcibly returning him here and abandoning her to the pleasures of Savages.” He looked around the room. Willes and Stevens mumbled support; others shook their heads dismissively. “He preferred dying, trying to save her, to being brought back here without her. So the truth, Lieutenant Waters, is that you were afraid to pursue.”
Waters spoke emotionlessly. “It may be true that he preferred dying while searching for her; and had we not found him, he would surely have had his wish. But that aside, we shall remember your spoken preference for James Lassie’s fate over being rescued if you should ever become lost in the forest as Master Chapman was.”
Sampson blinked several times, glanced at his cohorts with a nervous dither in his eyes, then looked back at Waters and promptly dropped his gaze to the floor.
Waters studied him for a moment. “Master Sampson, I truly wish you no ill will. My duty is to protect the colony and ensure ’tis prepared to defend itself when the time comes, and I fear that time may come sooner than any of us think. But whenever it comes, we will need every man and woman, able-bodied and otherwise, to defend—to the death—whether or not they agree with Governor Baylye and me . . . and that includes you men.” He eyed Stevens and Willes. “There is no alternative but certain death.”
Waters floated his gaze from man to man, waited for replies, wished the scene he’d painted wasn’t so frighteningly probable. “Now I shall discuss the ugly aftermath of the fight with the Powhatans. The mutilation perpetrated by one of our men was disgusting and intolerable, and such behavior will not be tolerated again. The man who committed the mutilation is a highly skilled, dependable soldier who was in a fit of anger over the death of his closest friend . . . which helps explain his behavior but in no way justifies it.” He paused. “He has been dealt with privately by me; but any further deviance of this type will be dealt with by the lash, or if warranted, more extreme measures. Are there any questions? Governor Baylye?”
Baylye shook his head; no one spoke.
“Very well. Then what did we learn from this encounter? We learned that our tactical changes were effective but cannot completely overcome superior numbers—a lesson of great value since we will always be outnumbered, at least until Governor White returns. So how do we survive until then?” He paused, let the sobering reality of his question permeate and challenge their minds. “First, we must exercise greater precaution and vigilance in all we do; second, we must double the number of escorts for all outside work parties, which will require additional trained civilians; and third, we must complete the palisades.” Loud groans inundated the room; Waters raised his voice. “In addition, we will post four guards high on scaffolds around the inside of the palisades, all day and all night; and last, until I state otherwise, there will be no unescorted sorties by anyone outside the palisades unless directly between our village and the Chesapeakes’ or less than thirty yards into the forest beyond the clearing around the village.”
After a brief silence, Thomas Stevens said, “Lieutenant, some of your measures seem reasonable and appropriate, but others are excessive and wasteful.” He glanced around the circle of visibly anxious men. “The truth is that the Powhatans met their match in that fight and now understand we can hurt them.” He shook his head. “They will not chance further losses by attacking us again.”
Loud ayes, louder nays, raucous din.
Stevens shouted, “And most importantly, they will never risk an attack against the palisades, which are quite adequate and intimidating as they now stand. Further, we civilians have no interest in becoming soldiers or in unnecessary palisades construction. Protection is your job, and palisades construction is part of protection—also your job—for we civilians will soon have crops to plant. And last, restricting us to such a narrow band around the palisades is unreasonable and impractical; for as I’ve stated, the Powhatans have learned their lesson and will not return.”
More ayes and nays.
Ananias Dare raised his hands, waited for silence. “Thomas, I disagree with you. That fight was naught but a skirmish in the Powhatans’ minds. They’ve a huge number of warriors to send against us, and ’tis absolutely certain they’ll return in force.”
Stevens and his cohorts scowled.
Waters said, “Protest if you wish, gentlemen, but at this moment there are seven gaping breaches in the palisades wide enough for five or six men to pass through shoulder to shoulder. That condition is far from what any military mind would call secure. And the only advantage the palisades provide is the ability to shoot down at the Savages, both inside and outside the wall, from high scaffolds, or from ground level from behind the palisades, on both sides of the breaches as they pour through the gaps. But that latter tactic will surely result in our people on opposite sides of the breaches shooting each other while they’re shooting at Savages.” He paused, sighed a lengthy sigh. “There are but four ways to bolster the effectiveness of our palisades. The first is to complete them as designed.”
Moans.
“Well, thank you all for telling me precisely what you think of that alternative.”
Laughter.
“The second is to cover the breaches with horizontally stacked logs to a height taller than a man and place elevated platforms on the ground behind them for our shooters to stand on. The third is to, instead, build several log barricades thirty or forty feet inside the breaches, so they can be manned by shooters with a clear field of fire at the Savages as they concentrate through the breaches. And last is to build front barricades across the breaches, and rear barricades inside them so that if the Savages scale the front barricades, we can withdraw to the rear ones and shoot at them while they’re scaling the front ones and unable to return fire. The obvious advantage of two, three, and four is that no time-consuming holes must be dug, no braces and pegs constructed, and no peg holes bored. We can simply cut and drag the trees to the proper locations and stack them. Of course, we’ll also have to complete construction of the gate, so we can enjoy easy passage under normal conditions but lock it shut under threat.” He surveyed their faces, felt an unexpected surge of assurance when he heard no objections. “Comments?”
Silence.
Baylye said, “Lieutenant Waters’ proposal is an excellent one and achievable with the resources at hand; and those resources include all of us though I must point out that our soldiers are here to protect us . . . not for colony building, as some seem to think. And ’tis only through their good graces, and Lieutenant Waters’ fine leadership, that they�
��ve worked with us every step of the way.”
Huzzahs from all but the three.
“So I direct that we resume palisades construction—alternative four— as detailed by Lieutenant Waters, without further discussion.”
Willes shook his head. “A breech of protocol, Governor. We are supposed to vote on proposals like this, and I’m certain I am not the only one who thinks building palisades for a non-existent threat is a foolish waste of time and manpower.”
“I’m afraid you are quite wrong, Master Willes. The charter clearly states that the governor, with the counsel of the military commander, has sole responsibility for security decisions. Thus, as I said, this matter is closed. Now let us—”
“I care not, Baylye. That charter was written for a fully populated colony with enough manpower to build palisades. As this colony now exists, it has inadequate manpower to even gather the food we need, much less build palisades. I refuse to obey any order to—”
“If we’re all dead at the hands of the Savages, we won’t need food, Master Willes. Secure defenses must be our first priority, so do as your conscience demands, but know that I shall do as I say with regard to slackers.”
Willes stepped forward, leaned his flushed face toward Baylye. “Are you suggesting I—” Sampson and Stevens gripped his shoulders. He glanced at both, read their eyes, stepped slowly back, scowled at Baylye then Waters. “We shall see where your proclamations go, Baylye.”
Waters wondered why the trinity of conspirators had suddenly grown so openly disruptive and belligerent, why they’d not taken a more subtle, cunning approach to their sedition. The puzzle ignited his curiosity, vexed him, convinced him it was time to infiltrate the conspiracy and learn its intentions and strategy. Damn it, Waters . . . should’ve done so long ago.
Baylye continued, “As I said, the palisades will be completed as stated, with logging beginning as soon as the rain and snow slacken, and movement and placement of logs when the mud has dried. Meanwhile, we must focus, yet again, on our most pressing need after defense: our inadequate food supply.” He paused, took a deep breath. “As I look around, I see faces far more gaunt and drawn than they were two weeks ago. In addition, we’ve witnessed shorter tempers, frequent altercations, and a rise in food theft. Gentlemen, I fear we approach the threshold of starvation; and though I understand hunger prompts men to do things they would not otherwise do, we can no longer tolerate the theft and hoarding that have recently occurred. Therefore, henceforth, ten lashes will be given to any man caught stealing or hoarding, and five to any man guilty of starting a fight. In addition—”
“And I suppose,” Sampson snorted, “you will be the judge and jury?”
Baylye stared at him with a flat expression. “Indeed I shall, with the advice and assistance of Lieutenant Waters.”
Stevens, smirked, flashed a glance at Willes and Stevens, then murmured, “Ah. King Roger and Prince William. Is that it?”
Ananias stepped forward, slowly eyed the trinity. “I know not what prompts you three to such blind, contentious opposition to every constructive thought proposed in this council; but I, for one, have seen and heard enough of it. ’Tis time for you to either help solve our challenges like responsible gentlemen or remove yourselves and leave the rest of us to do our duty.”
All but the trinity shouted assent. Stevens’ face flushed; he swallowed, shuffled his feet, flicked glances at Willes and Sampson, then looked meekly around the room like a scolded child.
Baylye nodded respectfully at Ananias then drifted his gaze from man to man. “To continue, partly due to the weather and partly to our own shortcomings, which I detailed in our last meeting, the food supply continues to lag our need. If we are to survive to plant our crops, we must take more drastic steps to remedy the situation. First, I have the names of three men, all of whom have been confirmed as slackers by at least three Assistants. They are Masters Kemme, Spendlove, and Wotton, and all three are hereby placed on half rations”—he eyed Waters—“ for one week, or longer if their productivity does not improve.”
Grumbles from the trinity.
“I must tell you that in the long term, I do not favor the forced cooperative endeavors necessitated by our present situation, and I eagerly anticipate the day when each man can be responsible for his own welfare and do as he pleases about providing for it. But that day is far in our future, so I cannot overstate the importance of all doing their share to ensure the colony’s survival during this difficult time.” He waited for dissent, heard none, quickly continued. “Therefore, despite the cold, the driving wind, and rough waters on the bay, we must increase our fishing intake. There’s simply no other way to survive; for the deer population moves farther away each day, which will soon force us to hunt dangerous territories. If for a time we reduce the pressure on the deer by relying more on fish and shellfish, perhaps they will return.”
Willes shook his head, rolled his eyes as if upset at having to endure Baylye’s oratory. “Baylye, you miss, or choose to ignore, the obvious. The solution is to take food from the Chesapeakes, either outright or by making them hunt and fish for us, or both. They’ve vast stores of corn and other crops, as well as smoked venison and fish, which they’ve hidden from us. So we must force them to—”
“William,” Roger Prat said, “that’s profoundly absurd. The Chesapeakes don’t have enough food for themselves, and they, too, suffer from our overaggressive deer hunting. I know so because I hunt with them every day and have witnessed their desperation and concern. So—”
“Then we should immediately seize what they have. They’re uncivilized heathens, without value compared to we Christians. Even God himself would not care if they perished.”
Most cast incredulous glances at one another. Baylye said, “Master Willes, are you ignorant of the fate of the previous colony when they attempted to do exactly as you propose? No. I shall not lead us down that pathway under any circumstance.”
Willes said, “No, Governor Baylye, I am not ignorant. But you clearly are if you cannot see the merit of my proposal. ’Tis plain as day to the rest of us.” He glanced at his companions. “Yet you refuse to consider it because ’twas not your idea. Forsooth, you act more like a king than a governor, and we think you unfit to lead this colony.” He again eyed Sampson and Stevens then the other Assistants, except Waters. “And I propose we elect a new governor.”
Angry shouting erupted. Baylye’s face flushed; he folded his arms across his chest. “Master Willes, as you well know, the governor of this colony was designated in Sir Walter Raleigh’s charter; and that governor, John White, duly appointed me to represent him and perform his duties until his return. So there will be no such election, and you will either cease your disruptions or depart . . . now!”
Willes’ face twisted in anger. “By God’s teeth, I’ll not suffer this tyranny.” He placed his hand on his dagger, stepped menacingly toward Baylye.
Prat, Hewet, and Waters quickly stepped in front of him. He pushed Hewet sideways, but Hewet pushed back. Willes drew his dagger, thrust it at him; Waters seized Willes’ wrist with one hand, thumped his pistol soundly on his head with the other.
Willes dropped the dagger, staggered half a step, fell to his knees, and clutched his head as Stevens and Sampson caught him by his shoulders. Stevens leaned down, whispered, “Steady, William. Come, let us be away from here.” He and Sampson lifted him to his feet, placed his arms over their shoulders, then turned him around and started for the door.
Waters said, “When he regains his senses, inform him he’s under arrest for assault and that Sergeant Myllet will take charge of him. And if such is not to his liking, tell him to seek justice with the Powhatans.”
Baylye stoically watched the three approach the door. “Master Willes’ conduct leaves me no choice but to permanently remove him from the council of Assistants. You may inform him of that fact, as well . . . and due to the imminence of John White’s return, we will not replace him, for I will again become an Assi
stant at that time. I now warn you two gentlemen that any further disruption of the sort witnessed today will place you in the same status as Master Willes. Do you understand?”
Stevens and Sampson sneered at Baylye, nodded subtly.
“Good. Then I bid you care for your friend, and pray the knock on his head put some sense into it.”
Before moving, Sampson shot a hateful scowl at each Assistant, lingered on Baylye then Waters. “This is not the end of this.” He and Stevens then turned Willes toward the door, half-led, half-dragged him from the room.
An hour after the other Assistants had departed, Waters, Baylye, and Ananias Dare sat by the fire in Baylye’s cottage. Waters whittled on a stick, stopping now and then to toss the shavings that had missed the fire into the flames. Ananias rested his chin on his clasped hands, his elbows on his thighs. He watched Baylye intently as he spoke over the crackling of the fire. “So we agree their strategy is to instigate the colony’s failure by first fracturing the council of Assistants, then the colony, into irreconcilable factions that refuse to cooperate, perhaps coming into physical or armed conflict with one another.” He shook his head. “But how do they expect to survive such a self-imposed catastrophe? Forsooth, if half of us starve, the other half will starve, as well; and if the Powhatans charge through the palisades, they’ll kill all in their path without regard to their loyalties. Yet they act as if God himself will rescue them before that happens.”
Waters stopped whittling, looked at Baylye. “Not God, Roger, Lord Walsingham.”
Baylye’s eyes blossomed; his jaw dropped.
“I’ve pondered this for days, and that is the only answer that makes sense. Walsingham must be secretly sending a ship at a pre-determined time to rescue Tayler and his confederates, while the rest of us are left here to die by starvation or massacre. And that”—he gazed at Baylye then Ananias—“ my dear acting governor and my dear son-in-law of the appointed governor . . . is why they’ve become so brazen in their disruptions. They must accomplish their mission before the rescue ship arrives, and that convinces me its arrival will be in the near future.”