by Gen Bailey
“It is,” he replied without looking up at her.
“May I see it, please? ”
He nodded, and she strode toward him. Reaching out, she fingered the leather where it had split apart, then she set the pieces back on the ground. “Thank you,” she muttered, turning to leave.
But Black Eagle needed some hard questions answered, and this woman might have knowledge of a few facts that were not evident to him. Setting back to work, and without looking up at her, he asked, “Has Thompson a reason to seek vengeance on Ahweyoh?”
“Ahweyoh?”
“Miss Marisa,” he explained. “Has Thompson any reason to want her death?”
“Thompson? Miss Marisa? Why no,” answered Sarah. “Why do you ask?”
Instead of answering her question, he asked another. “Are you certain there is no quarrel between her family and his?”
“No, none.”
“Has any blood been spilled between them?”
“Of course not. Miss Marisa has led a sheltered life. In all her existence at the Rathburn estate, I am certain that she has rarely, if ever, spoken to the man.”
Black Eagle nodded.
“Sir, have you a reason to ask?”
“I do.”
“And that reason is?”
Briefly, he glanced up toward the woman. “This”—he raised the leather—“was no accident.”
Sarah frowned. “Are you certain? It seems clearly evident to me that the leather is worn.”
“So it would appear to the casual eye. But Ahweyoh’s and your saddle are almost new. Before we left, I ensured this, myself.”
Sarah paused, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “What you’re suggesting, sir, is that t’was done deliberately?”
He didn’t answer immediately. In keeping with Mohawk tradition, Black Eagle took his time in replying, choosing his words with caution. Thus, when he spoke, he didn’t answer Sarah’s question, but went on to say, “In trying to understand a matter that is incomprehensible, it is ofttimes necessary to ask questions. It is not my intention to alarm you, but rather to obtain facts.”
“But they barely know one another,” Sarah uttered. “Richard Thompson is a business acquaintance of John Rathburn, and John Rathburn is Miss Marisa’s guardian, as well as her step-uncle.”
Black Eagle nodded. “Then Ahweyoh did not hire Thompson?”
“I should say not. Such arrangements are carried on by the men of the family, and that man would be John Rathburn.”
Black Eagle nodded, and believing their conversation was at an end, Black Eagle mentally dismissed the woman and set back to work.
However, it appeared that Sarah had further questions, for she went on to say, “Sir, since Miss Marisa’s guardian is not here to put some pointed questions to you, I feel it my duty to inquire after a matter of importance.”
Black Eagle nodded, but did not look up. He said, “I am listening.”
“Sir, what are your intentions as regards Miss Marisa?”
Black Eagle raised his head, and looking up at the woman who was Ahweyoh’s companion, he stared openly at her. Then he again dropped his gaze, looking back toward his work. He said, “It is my intention to make her my woman, if she will have me.”
“And by ‘make her your woman,’ do you mean that you intend to marry her?”
“I do.”
Sarah paused briefly before saying, “Then allow me to warn you, sir, that such a union can never be. Miss Marisa was but four years of age when her parents died and she was taken into the care of John Rathburn. Since that time, Miss Marisa has been carefully groomed to marry a man of position within Colonial society, a man who will be chosen by John Rathburn when the time comes for Miss Marisa to marry, which will be soon. Therefore, it would do well for you to realize that though Miss Marisa may be fond of you, there is no future in courting her. For her sake, and for your own, I would ask you to refrain from actions that could steal her heart. I, for one, would not see her heartbroken.”
Black Eagle inclined his head, hesitating a moment in consideration. In due time, however, he said, “Then she has promised herself to another?”
“Not yet. But she is of age to marry, and soon her guardian will settle her with a man of his choice.”
“Of his choice? She is not free to choose a husband of her own accord?”
“No.”
Black Eagle’s pause was stretched out a little longer this time, and he said, “The English have many customs that baffle the Indian heart. How does this man, her guardian, expect Ahweyoh to be happy under such an arrangement?”
“He does not expect her to be happy. Marriages are seldom a matter of the heart. Surely you know this. They are made to settle estates, to join families of prominent people and to promote the general wealth of the two families.”
“And happiness is not a consideration?”
“No, although it sometimes happens that couples become happy with one another in time.”
“And the children from such a union, are they cheerful?”
Sarah sighed. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Do you come from such a family?”
“Indeed, I do not. My mother and father were in love, but they were simple folk, of Dutch descent and not English.”
Black Eagle nodded. “I appreciate what you say,” he uttered, “and you are a good woman to protect the one who is in your care. But what sort of man would I be if I didn’t endeavor to make myself known to the woman who holds my heart?”
“A very good man, I should think” said Sarah at once, “since I fear that your actions might hurt her, and yourself, too. Please try to understand that what you suggest can never take place. The English will not permit it.”
Looking up fleetingly from his work, he said, “Why would the English not permit it?”
Sarah glanced this way and that, looking anywhere but at him. At length, however, she said, “If you must know, though the English might make treaties with your people and hold to a covenant chain with them, the truth is that they consider the Indian, all Indians, beneath them.”
Black Eagle might have been insulted, but he wasn’t. Instead he nodded, and said, “Ah, now I understand. On occasion my people also think the same way about the English. All I can promise you now is that I will consider all that you have said, and I thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
Sarah might have gone on to explain more, but Marisa had returned and outside of exhaling a heartfelt sigh, Sarah remained silent. However, before she left, she added, “Please consider it well.” And turning on her heel, she was gone.
It was all very illuminating, thought Black Eagle. Apparently attaining Ahweyoh’s favor as a husband might be a harder task than even he had appreciated. Perhaps it was, as Miss Sarah said, impossible, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.
As Black Eagle returned his attention to the leather cinches, he realized that, outside of Sarah’s warnings about the Englishman’s strange rules for marriage, there was one very important detail in their conversation: Thompson had no blood vengeance to account for his actions.
If Ahweyoh had done him some wrong, then it would be easier to understand why Thompson might be attempting to kill her.
But to seek to murder a person without some justifiable reason was insane, unless there was more here to be understood. To his way of thinking, there were few reasons to excuse murder. Blood revenge was one. But according to Sarah, and to Marisa, herself, there was no such reason. Defending oneself or one’s family against an enemy was another. But Ahweyoh was hardly Thompson’s enemy.
Bringing war to a man or to a tribe that had done you an injustice was another reason that might excuse murder, although the injustice had to be great, since the action of taking another man’s life was akin to entombing oneself in an eternal conflict with another’s soul.
But a white man could be bought with the Englishman’s gold nuggets.
Black Eagle frowned. The concept was o
ne that was foreign to an Indian mind. However, Black Eagle had often heard William Johnson talk of this sort of arrangement.
Had another person enlisted Thompson to kill Marisa?
It would explain much if this were so; the lack of driving cause, the underhanded manner in which the deeds were being attempted, the method by which Thompson sought to blame another, thus bringing doubt upon Black Eagle’s character.
Yet, if this were so, if someone had hired Thompson to do his dirty work, who was this unknown person?
Black Eagle shook his head. It was unlikely that he would know such a person’s identification, since he did not have knowledge of Ahweyoh’s acquaintances. However, one thing was certain: If someone had lured Thompson into committing murder, that person would likely be situated in Albany. And if this were so, then that city was not a safe place for his Ahweyoh.
Wah-ah! This made the dilemma even more complex. To push ahead without solving the matter of the cinches was to put Ahweyoh into constant contact with a killer. But conversely, to return to Albany would be as to put her in contact with the real killer.
What to do?
To Black Eagle’s mind, such matters should be handled in a straightforward manner. Therefore, in his consideration, there was only one thing to be done: confront Thompson. Confront him and send him away, back to Albany. And do it as soon as possible.
Glancing toward the women now, he made up his mind to tell them his plans as soon as the chance provided itself.
Fourteen
“Miss Marisa, mightn’t I have a moment of yer time? ” With his three-cornered hat in his hand, Thompson approached Marisa as she stood off to the side of the horses. She was placing their silver dishes, which she had recently dried, into their trunk.
Looking up, Marisa glanced right and left. Where was everybody? Where was Sarah and Black Eagle?
Ah, there they were; she caught sight of them out the corner of her eye. They were close to the water, too far away to provide an excuse to avoid Thompson.
She sighed. She realized that traveling as they were afforded them all with little opportunity to appreciate the finer qualities of life. But Thompson’s clothes were greasy and smelled sour, his face was unshaven, his hair was uncombed and his breath would have stopped a rattlesnake’s bite.
Indeed, the furthest thing from her mind was to speak to Richard Thompson. Lucklessly, she could think of no valid reason to deny him a chance to present his cause, whatever that cause may be. Closing the trunk that carried their dishes, she sat down upon its lid and said, “Yes? What is it Mr. Thompson?”
“It’s about our Indian scout, Miss Marisa.”
“Yes?”
“I seen ye two together.”
Marisa hesitated. “Yes, I know. Have you an objection?”
“No, miss, exceptin’ for this. If’n yer thinkin’ of marriage to him, it’ll never be.”
“Mr. Thompson, I—”
“I know them kind of Indians,” he interrupted, “and they don’t rightly have real marriages. Two people get together to have children, but afterward, the man can go about his business and have all the women he wants.”
“Mr. Thompson.” Marisa stood up to her feet. “I think I must remind you that this sort of talk is out of line.”
“But if’n I don’t tell ye that them Indians don’t rightly hold to the same kinda morals as us English, then who’s to tell ye?”
“Who, indeed? I thank you for your concern, Mr. Thompson. Your advice is kindly taken, but that will be all for now.”
“But Miss Marisa, ye’re judging a savage as though he was all civilized, and he ain’t. Now, I can see this scout’s weaved his spell over ye, but he canna be trusted. These Indians are pagans, savages. Have ye considered that maybe he deliberately let those cinches turn to dust?”
Marisa exhaled on a snort. “Hardly. Sir Eagle has proved himself to be quite competent. Besides, what possible reason would he have to do so?”
“So as he could save ye to get yer favor.”
Marisa sneered. “Letting them turn to dust would hardly buy my favor, I assure you. This is nonsense, Mr. Thompson. He risked his life to save me. That alone has won my regard.”
“But that’s exactly what I be sayin’. He cuts the cinches, keeps himself close by to ye, and then when they give, he rushes back to save ye.”
“ ’Tis utter nonsense,” said Marisa. “And what about the other times Sir Eagle has come to my aid?”
“Same thing, miss.”
Marisa sighed before she said, “Again I thank you very much for your concern, Mr. Thompson. But I think you have missed the mark on this. Good day.”
Thompson’s face screwed up into a frown. “Do ye not see? It’s workin’ on ye.”
“Thank you, Mr. Thompson.” Then sternly, “That will be all.”
Thompson slammed on his hat and turned away, but as he left, he muttered under his breath, “Yep, I’d say he has yer favor.” And he left.
Marisa watched Thompson’s retreating back; she also fanned the air around her in an attempt to rid herself of the stench of bad breath and unwashed flesh. Perhaps she would lend the man her perfume.
However, Marisa was also frowning. It couldn’t possibly be true.
After all, look at who was telling it. It simply was not possible.
The Lake-that-turns-to-rapids appeared to be a calm body of water from Marisa’s view of it. It wasn’t terribly wide at this section of it, although Marisa could see that farther east it became wider and perhaps deeper. But from her position, the lake appeared to be utterly calm—and teeming with fish.
Their supper had consisted of fish, a welcome surprise from the steady diet of corn cakes and jerky that they’d been subsisting on for the past few days. However, with what had been a pleasure also came a responsibility—there were dishes to be washed.
The sun was still fairly high in the sky, though it was starting its descent toward the western horizon. At present, she and Sarah were huddled next to the water, washing up their sterling silver dishes. Marisa sighed, then sat up and stretched. Both her elbow and her hip were still sore.
“Are you feeling well enough to be doing this?” asked Sarah, her brows pulled together in a frown.
“I am fine.”
“You’re certain? Because if you need to rest, ’tis not necessary that you help with the cleanup. I can do this by myself.”
“I promise you, Sarah, that I am well enough. I’ve fallen from a horse before and little fuss was made over me then. ’Tis nothing to be concerned with now.” Marisa stretched again, then lowered her arms and massaged her elbow. “Sarah, what is your opinion on the events of the day? As you know, Richard Thompson has made the point that Black Eagle should be blamed for the accident. He also spoke to me earlier, and he said quite plainly that he suspected that Black Eagle had let the leather rot quite deliberately—so that he could rescue me.
“Of course it’s ridiculous,” Marisa continued. “But still, if I might, I’d like your opinion.”
Sarah hesitated before she commented. And then, as if choosing her words carefully, she spoke slowly, saying, “I engaged Black Eagle in conversation a little earlier this afternoon, and I saw and touched the cinches that broke. He is at present repairing them. In truth, Black Eagle believes that the cinches were deliberately cut.”
“What?”
“ ’T is true. He said our saddles were almost new when we started out, that it isn’t possible that they would wear so quickly. Of course he could be saying that to cover up his own negligence, but . . .”
“Deliberately cut? But that would mean . . . I find that hard to believe.” Marisa drew her brows together.
“I, too,” said Sarah. “While I hardly trust Thompson, I did see the severed leather, and it appeared to me that it was old and much used. Not the sort of saddle that one would trust. Yet, I see no point in denying that Black Eagle might have a more discerning eye than I do.”
Marisa remained silent, alt
hough after a moment, she said, “This is rather disconcerting.”
Sarah laid her hand over Marisa’s. “So it is. If true, it would mean that the action was consciously done.”
“Yes. But it can’t possibly be true. Richard Thompson has no reason to have done it; I barely know the man.”
“I know.” Sarah shook her head. “It is possible that Black Eagle is in error about the leather straps. These Mohawk Indians are not as acquainted with horses as we are, the horse having been in their possession for only a few years. Perhaps Black Eagle overlooked the weathering of the straps, and is trying to place the deed at Thompson’s feet.”
“But why would he do that?”
“To gain your favor, perhaps.”
“Richard Thompson said much the same thing.” At first Marisa became very still, then she looked down and murmured, “But he would have no need to do it. He knows he already has my favor.”
“Does he? And yet today I warned him away from you.”
“But you did so after the accident, didn’t you?”
“True. Still, since Richard Thompson has accused him of negligence, Black Eagle might try to soften the blow, for I believe he plans to ask for your hand in marriage.”
“In marriage? Did he say that to you?”
Sarah nodded. “Indeed, he did.”
Marisa sighed, and looking down, she couldn’t help but smile.
Sarah, however, witnessed Marisa’s reaction, and she reached out to touch Marisa’s arm. “Marisa, think,” she said. “I fear it is not wise to encourage Black Eagle overly much. He is besotted with you, and although his embrace might be pleasant to you now, you must think of the future. Where would you live? How would you live?” Sarah paused, then added, “After your upbringing, I doubt that you would be pleased to set up house in a log cabin for the rest of your life, and if you were to take Black Eagle as your husband, I fear that a log cabin would be your fate.”