This Place is Death (A Curse Keepers Secret) Page 3

  What Manteo said made sense, but it went against everything Ananias had ever been taught. Never mind their names, Ananias had to make sure his family was safe. “And you saw the demons escape? If we went to your island down the coast, would my wife and daughter be safe from this danger?”

  “No. Once the demons escape, I think there will be a dormant period while they acclimate to our world, and then they will spread to the four corners of the earth.”

  Ananias took a deep breath. “And John White saw this vision too?” Maybe John had been trying to soothe Ananias’s fears when he called what he and Manteo had experienced a dream. If he had seen the invasion of spirits into the world, then he would want to warn the queen. Perhaps that was the real reason he had chosen to return to England.

  “Yes, but I do not know if his vision was the same as mine. We all see different things. We all have our own unique gifts from the Manitou.”

  “What is this Manitou? An evil spirit?”

  “No it is the life force that gives a soul to all living things. Like your Holy Ghost.”

  “That’s not the same, Manteo. The Holy Ghost is part of the Holy Trinity.”

  “Call our spirits whatever you like. To ignore them is foolish. They are coming.”

  To believe Manteo meant Ananias was spitting into the face of the One True God. Blasphemy. Yet he couldn’t dismiss the heavy blanket of evil soaking through his skin and stealing his breath. A feeling that had become stronger and stronger since he’d stepped onto this spot.

  God help him, blasphemy or not, Ananias believed it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Two months had passed since John White’s departure, yet Ananias’s unease remained. The heat had disappeared, bringing cool air in its wake. There had only been minor skirmishes with the Roanoke tribe and no further contact with the Dasamongueponke. All was well in the colony, yet Ananias knew what was coming.

  Hell was about to break loose.

  He might have dismissed the threat as his father-in-law had done—writing it away as a dream, a vision—if Manteo hadn’t still been on edge. While the native had never been a jovial man, he brooded constantly now. To make matters worse, he had left two weeks ago to visit the Croatan and hadn’t returned. Ananias couldn’t help wondering if he would abandon them after all, regardless of his vow.

  The men of the colony had hunted enough meat to carry them through the winter, and they were rationing the flour. Baby Virginia was not only growing but thriving. Ananias loved the evenings when his family of three retired to their small home. Elinor would sew while he played with his daughter. Whenever he walked into a room, she immediately smiled and had even begun to laugh. Despite the cloud that hung over him, Ananias’s heart was full.

  Life was almost too perfect. Ananias couldn’t help thinking that this period of peace and contentment was the calm before the storm.

  So Ananias wasn’t surprised when Manteo returned from his expedition on a cold, gray November afternoon, claiming he had disturbing news. When pressed for more information, he refused to say anything until the assistants were called for a meeting. They wasted no time in gathering in the center of the village, each man wearing a grave expression. The remaining townsfolk weren’t allowed to participate in the meeting, but they stood outside the circle, eager for the savage’s news.

  Manteo’s gaze spun around the group. “The Roanoke have gathered a raiding party of over five hundred. They plan to attack.”

  “How do you know?” one of the men asked. “You were supposed to be with your people.”

  Manteo’s gaze darkened. “I encountered a scouting group on my return trip. I heard them discussing their plans.”

  The group was silent for several seconds as they took in the news. One of the men finally asked, “Will your people fight with us?”

  Manteo hesitated, glancing at Ananias before leveling his gaze at the speaker. “No. When I visited them, they told me they refuse to stand with you in any future encounters. They see you as the wrongdoers after your attack on Dasamongueponke… particularly after the massacre of the Roanoke a summer ago.”

  “That makes no sense,” one of the men shouted. “There’s no love between your people and the Roanoke. Why would they side with them?”

  Manteo’s eyes darkened. “The Croatan do not side with the Roanoke, but they do not find your people trustworthy. They feel you deceived the Roanoke and will do the same to them.”

  An angry murmur spread through the group. “You call us your people now? One trip back to the Croatan and you’re no longer one of us?”

  Manteo’s chest heaved and Ananias could tell he was restraining himself. “Two years ago, I swore to stand by your people. Nothing can release me from this bond.”

  His answer seemed to appease the men, but their anxiety grew.

  “So what do we do? Are we to be slaughtered?”

  Manteo didn’t answer directly. “You are outnumbered.”

  “We have guns!” one of the assistants reminded them. “We can hold them off.”

  “Aye,” one of the men agreed. “And the fifteen men left behind with the fort had guns. Look what happened to that lot.”

  A sober hush fell over the crowd.

  “We should leave,” a woman called out from the back. “We should leave this place. It is death.”

  “And where would you go?” a man asked. “We have no transportation to get anywhere.”

  “You can go to my people,” Manteo said. “If you hike south, I can send for boats to meet at the crossover point.”

  “It’s a trap!” someone shouted. “He just said his people wouldn’t help us!”

  Manteo took a deep breath. “The Croatan will not defend you while you stay here, but they will allow you to live on their land.”

  “This is our land,” another man argued. “We must stand our ground.”

  “But if we are in danger of being slaughtered—” one of the women protested.

  A large man stepped into the center of the circle. “Enough. I am in charge in Governor White’s absence and you will do as I say.” Roger Bailie was next in line after the governor, which would have made the colonists listen to him in his own right, but his height and the tone and timbre of his voice also demanded their attention. “We came to this land to make a home. If we back down every time the Indians bang their drums, they will never respect us. We need to show them we aren’t going anywhere.”

  The villagers grumbled until someone shouted, “What do you think, Ananias?”

  Ananias hesitated, turning toward Manteo.

  “My father left us here for a reason,” Elinor said before he could speak. “He believed we could hold our own.”

  “Your father left us here because the captain wouldn’t let us back on the boat! He left us to the same fate as my George!” Elizabeth shouted, still bitter over her husband’s death. “Your father was a coward who saved himself and left his daughter to die!”

  Elinor’s mouth dropped, and the blood drained from her face.

  Ananias couldn’t bear to see his wife hurt by her friend. He stepped forward. “The governor loves his daughter more than he loves himself. He would never leave Elinor here if he thought her life was in danger. He’s been to this land three times. Do you think he would have brought her to her death?” Ananias swallowed, wanting to believe his own words. “When the governor left, most of you wanted him to go, and now you’re cursing him for leaving. Which is it?”

  They complained and grumbled for another hour, finally deciding that they would stay and defend themselves against the Roanoke.

  When Ananias and Elinor returned to their hut, Elinor laid the sleeping babe in her cradle. Ananias pushed the door closed and turned to his wife, speaking in a hushed voice, “We must leave this place, Elinor.”

  Her head jerked up. “What are you saying? That goes against everything you said in the meeting.”

  “I only said that to save your pride. We need to leave.”

  “A
nd go where?” Elinor pulled her sleeping gown from the chest that held all their worldly belongings. “Where would we go?”

  “South. To Manteo’s people.”

  She tossed the cloth onto the bed, anger blazing in her eyes. “That Indian is not to be trusted. He’s leading our people to our deaths.”

  “No, Ellie. He’s my friend and I trust him. It’s insanity to stay.”

  “Then why would you tell the villagers otherwise?”

  “You and I both know there is no arguing with Roger Bailie once he’s made up his mind. To argue in such a public arena could have caused mutiny.”

  Elinor sat on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands in her lap. “What would you have us do, Ananias? Run off in the middle of the night? Are you really such a coward?”

  “Coward?” Ananias shouted, clenching his fists. “I am no coward, Elinor. I would gladly die if it meant you and Virginia would live. But I could die a hundred deaths and the fact remains: The Indians will kill you. After they torture you and the babe.” Nausea filled Ananias’s mouth with a bitter taste. “I cannot stand the thought, Ellie.” He sat on the bed next to her, grabbing her hand tightly, his voice choking. “I cannot bear the thought of you or our daughter defiled.”

  Elinor held his hand to her chest. “You must have faith, husband. You must trust our Heavenly Father to protect us.”

  But Ananias didn’t trust God to protect him. He’d lost his faith the night Manteo had brought him to the gate of hell.

  He stood, his back stiffening. “Go to bed. I wish to clear my head in the evening air.”

  “Ananias, what are you going to do?”

  Hearing the anxiety in her voice, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth. “Ellie, I love you and the baby. I need to sort this out in my head.”

  She grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his face back to hers. “Take your walk, Ananias, and when you return, you will know what is right.”

  He left his family, searching out Manteo. He found him squatting outside his shelter, sharpening the blade of his knife. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Manteo knew him well to have anticipated his visit. It suddenly concerned Ananias that as well as he knew the savage, he couldn’t anticipate his actions. The man was wrapped in mystery.

  Manteo stood, sliding his knife into the sheath on his belt. “Walk with me, my friend.”

  My friend. Ananias nodded, chiding himself for his paranoia. Manteo was his only ally at this point and had given him no reason for his distrust. Ananias betrayed their friendship with his doubts.

  They headed into the woods, both men moving in the same direction, as though by an unspoken agreement. When they stopped at the invisible gate to Popogusso, Ananias turned to his friend. “Are you sure they will attack?”

  Manteo hesitated. “Yes, they will come in two days’ time.”

  Ananias’s heart skipped a beat. “The day after tomorrow?” If that were true, he might only have two nights and one day left with his family. “You must help me save my wife and child, Manteo.”

  Manteo remained expressionless. “Your family must go to my people. If they do, they will be protected. I swear to it.”

  Ananias knew the situation was dire, but Manteo’s words confirmed it. “Will you go with us?”

  Manteo tensed. “You misinterpret my meaning. I beg you to send your family away, but I need you to stay.” The native took a deep breath and released it. “My oath is to your people, and I cannot leave them. Neither can you.”

  Shame burned in Ananias’s chest. Manteo was right. How could he live with himself if he survived but the rest of the colony perished? He could never survive the shame of such cowardice. “I cannot let my family be slain, but Ellie refuses to leave.” His throat tightened. “There must be something we can do to stop this madness, Manteo.”

  Manteo was quiet for so long, Ananias was sure he would not answer. Finally, he said, “There might be something. But it is dangerous.”

  “We’re already lost. How much more dangerous could it be?”

  “This could potentially involve future generations.”

  Ananias’s jaw clenched. “There will be no future generations for us if we don’t do something.”

  Manteo’s eye glittered in the moonlight with something that looked like madness. “You know not what you speak of, Ananias.”

  Ananias was tired of people telling him what he didn’t know. “Can you stop this from happening or not?”

  “I do not know, my friend. I can only try.”

  “What do you intend to do?”

  “Now you ask.” Manteo’s mouth lifted into a quirk of a smile. “Where do our people get power?”

  “How would I know?” Ananias rubbed his head. “That thing you said gave everything a soul. The Manitou.”

  Manteo shook his head. “No, not the Manitou.” He paused, as if weighing his words. “In war, my people get their power from the gods.”

  “How can that knowledge help us?”

  “Can you not see past the nose on your face, Ananias?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you are standing next to the answer.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Manteo had been missing from the village for the entire day. The colony had noticed his absence and decreed him a coward and a traitor. Ananias knew the truth—Manteo was preparing for the ceremony he planned to perform later that night. The ceremony to steal the Roanoke tribe’s power by binding their spirits behind the gates of hell. What the native planned to do was far more dangerous than running away or staring down death at the end of a spear point, but Manteo had sworn him to secrecy.

  Elinor nursed the baby as Ananias sat on the bed next to her, his arm wrapped around her back. He’d spent the day begging her to take the baby and go to Manteo’s people, but she refused to consider it, and truth be told, Ananias couldn’t bear for her to leave. What if she and the baby were kidnapped or murdered on the way? Or worse.

  He couldn’t entertain the thought of Ellie or the baby dying or being tortured. Each time his mind strayed there, his heart strangled and his lungs refused to fill. He forced his chest to expand, his fingers digging into the small of his wife’s back. He’d kill them himself before he allowed anything vile to happen to his small family.

  She looked up at him with tired eyes. “We will be fine, Ananias. You shall see.”

  He’d always loved her optimism, and he definitely needed it now. “Ellie, I swear upon my life that I will do everything in my power to save you and Virginia.”

  Elinor lifted her hand to his cheek, her thumb stroking the coarse stubble. “I know you will. That’s who you are, my husband. That’s why I love you.” Her eyelids fluttered in her attempt to stay awake. She looked down at the child cooing at her breast, forcing her eyes to widen.

  Ananias lifted the baby from her arms. “Let me take her. You need sleep.”

  She kissed him, smiling against his lips. “You are much too good to me. If anything happens…”

  He kissed her back to stop her words. “I love you, Elinor. I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you, remember? When your bonnet flew off your head, and I retrieved it from the street.”

  “I seem to recall there was much more teasing involved than you remember. And you still had an eye for that witch Mary Ann.” Laughing softly, she pushed on his chest, letting her fingers linger there. His hand covered hers, pressing her palm over his heart. Virginia reached up and joined her hand with theirs.

  A lump filled his throat and he coughed to clear it. “There is only you, Elinor. Forever and always, only you and Virginia.”

  Tears shimmered in her eyes and her chin quivered. “We shall be with each other until the end of eternity, Ananias, no matter what happens.”

  A tear slid down her cheek, and he kissed it, the saltiness lingering on his tongue. “Get some rest, my love. I will take care of the babe until she falls asleep.”

  Elinor nodded and l
ay down, burrowing under the blankets.

  Ananias sat on his stool, holding Virginia on his lap. She looked up at him with laughing eyes. He softly sang her a song that his mother had sung to him, a lively tune that did nothing to cure his melancholy. He chided himself to have more faith. If anyone could save them, it was Manteo. There was still hope.

  Virginia finally fell asleep in his arms, and he gently laid her in the cradle. He spent the next several minutes watching the two most precious things in the world to him, telling himself that when he returned, they could all live without fear. He only needed to trust. God had not sent him a solution only to snatch everything away.

  Manteo had told him to arrive around midnight, so Ananias knew he had to leave soon. The November evening was colder than usual. After bundling in an extra layer of clothes, Ananias reached for the door and realized he’d almost left without his cup. Manteo had stressed the importance of bringing a vessel large enough to drink from during the ceremony. He’d insisted they must each have a container that belonged exclusively to their people. Ananias grabbed a pewter cup off the table, stuffing it into his coat pocket. It left an uncomfortable lump, but it was better than walking through the village with the cup in his hand, particularly given how suspicious everyone was of late.

  The cold air stung his nose and throat. This weather was more like what he was used to in England. Surely a land full of such violent extremes couldn’t be a place of God, only confirming that Manteo was right. The Indians’ ground was the gate to hell. When this ordeal was over, Ananias was taking his wife and child far from this place of evil.

  “Good eve, Ananias,” one of the men called when Ananias walked through the village one last time, ensuring as best he could that it was safe to leave his family.

  “Good eve, Michael.” Ananias had drawn the evening patrol, but he’d traded with Michael for a predawn turn, hoping his task with Manteo would be complete by then. He continued toward Manteo’s dwelling, then headed for the trees.