Jamestown (The Keepers of the Ring) Read Online Free PDF Page A

clutched a vine in her hand, and Fallon guessed that she had lost her footing and tumbled down the slope while reaching for it. A bloody cut had opened above her left eyebrow, and one knee was scraped and bleeding. But her wide eyes were fastened upon a pale brown snake that buzzed upon a rock a few feet away.
    “A copperhead,” Fallon whispered, trying hard to remember what Rowtag had taught him about such snakes. The bite was serious and would not kill an adult, but Gilda was yet a child, a mere baby . . .
    “Do not move, sweetheart,” Fallon called, carefully edging down the incline toward her. “He is more frightened of you than you are of him. Close your eyes, little one, and let him go home to his children.”
    Gilda trembled, and Fallon held his breath until she obeyed and closed her eyes. A moment later, the snake turned and zigzagged away.
    Fallon knelt and caught her in his arms as she broke into honest wailing. “I was so scared, Fallon,” she cried, sobbing brokenly against his chest. “I want to go home! I want mama and papa, I want to see Rowtag and my own house—”
    “You have me now, and Noshi,” Fallon murmured, a curious emotion rising in his chest as he held her tightly. He breathed in the fresh scent of her hair and tried to unravel the tangled feelings her helpless dependence inspired. ‘Twas like the beginning of a new identity, and in that instant he had become her father, brother, and protector . . .
    He pulled away and lifted her chin so that she looked into his eyes. “We are your family now, Gilda. I promise, I will take care of you no matter what happens.”
    She hiccupped a sob. “You promise?”
    “I do.” He drew her into his arms again and felt his heart warm as she nestled into his youthful strength.
    “I love you, Fallon.” Her voice brimmed with trust.
    He ran his hand over her glossy dark hair and pressed his lips to her ear. “I love you too, Gilda.”
     
     
    Ten miles north of Ritanoe, a hunting party of Powhatan Indians pursued a wounded deer. They had come across a trail of blood and followed the wandering track until they found the beast, a majestic buck. An arrow protruded from the animal’s side; whoever had fired the missile had missed the heart and lodged the arrowhead in the buck’s shoulder bone.
    Opechancanough, chief of the hunting party, motioned for his braves to circle the animal. At his signal the warriors swept in for the kill, and the weary buck had neither the strength nor the opportunity to flee. Within a moment he lay dead on the forest floor.
    As the Powhatan warriors whooped in celebration, Opechancanough idly walked forward and pulled the offending arrow from the carcass. The copper arrowhead gleamed in the late afternoon sun, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. No Indian tribe had learned the secrets of shaping copper in this way. Could it be that clothed people still walked the land? If his brother, Powhatan, had not finished the work Opechancanough had given him to do, the war club must be wielded again. The clothed people had no place in the land, and they would have to die.
     
     
    The first maize crop was ready for harvesting when a group of Powhatan traders arrived at Ritanoe. Gepanocon’s scouts had sent word of their coming, and before their arrival the chief sent the four Englishmen away from the camp to hide in a series of sacred caves in the woods. He did not consider it a sacrilege to hide men in the sacred caves, for the Englishmen were his special treasure, the key to making weapons and utensils and good magic. The presence of the English, Gepanocon warned his people, must be kept secret.
    Upon entering the village the traders announced that Powhatan himself, the great chief of the united Powhatan tribes, had sent them to trade furs for copper. The name “Powhatan” sent Fallon’s blood sliding through his veins like cold needles, and he kept Noshi and Gilda by his side and hid in his hut as the traders bargained. He