Jamestown (The Keepers of the Ring) (39 page)

The gaoler covered his mouth with his hand to hide a reluctant grin.
“Nay,” he said finally, giving Fallon a glance of grudging admiration. “But you were the first man to try.”

Fallon nodded and went out, finding a strange satisfaction in the answer.

The late morning air was warm and burnished with sunlight, and a clear blue sky canopied the fort as Fallon and Brody walked from the gaol. The actual fort enclosed about an acre of land, and within the enclosure stood a chapel, various storehouses, an armory, and a barracks for the men of King James’ militia. The main gate faced the river to protect against enemy ships.

Fallon knew little about warfare, but it seemed to him that the place was well defended.
The engineers had surrounded the palisade by a moat, and four small cannons were mounted upon bulwarks at each of the five corners. A line of muskets stood loaded and ready outside the armory, and Fallon was glad to leave the place, for it reminded him too much of the omnipresent danger from unpredictable savages.

“
They’ll of certain not see our like again,” Brody said, laughing as they nodded farewell to the guards at the gates of the palisade. “What are you thinking that we should do now?”

“
I know not,” Fallon answered, pausing to survey the open clearing before him. “I am not fit for work with this injured hand, but we must work to eat, for my purse will not last long here.”

“
Aye.”

The land before them sloped gently down to the riverfront, and the two men paused near the docks to ponder their future.
To their right stood several buildings framed of rough pine and filled with a latticework of saplings and reeds. A crude plaster of mud and ground sea shells covered the walls, and reed roof thatching kept out the rain. These were the public buildings: the inn, the tavern, the meeting house. One solitary brick church stood to their left, and further away, rising up from the green of summer growth, were private homes skirted with growing green tobacco fields.

“
I have been thinking,” Brody said, shrugging hesitantly, “and ‘tis certain that you know I want to explore the wilderness. I know gold lies in the west, Fallon, and I want to find it.”

“
In sooth, how could I help but know it?” Fallon answered, with an impenitent grin. “‘Tis all you have talked about.”

“
But, truth to tell, I will need money to furnish an expedition and I have none,” Brody went on.

Fallon was about to offer his purse, but Brody cut him off with an abrupt lift of his hand.
“I know what y’are thinking, and I’ll not be taking your money, Fallon Bailie. I have decided instead to join the king’s regiment for a term of six months. The pay is good, I’ll be quartered at the fort, and mayhap I can learn a wee bit from the traders who come in and out of this place. As you and I have already learned, ‘tis too soon to go running off into the wilderness.”

“
Aye.” Fallon agreed. They had been foolish to run into the woods immediately after landing in Virginia, but God had honored their earnestness, hadn’t he? They had found Gilda, and mayhap they could find Noshi as easily if they attempted a second journey.

But
, an inner voice nagged,
what good hath come of your venture? Gilda resents you now. How can you expect her to respect you and submit to your guidance when she hath had to save, feed, and shelter you?

Brody waited in silence to hear whether or not Fallon would join him with the regiment, but Fallon did not know what to say.
“I know not what I shall do,” he said finally, lifting his eyes to the east where he could just see the watery ocean horizon. “I came to find Gilda and Noshi, and though I have found Gilda, my brother is still lost. And surely God would not have sent me all this way to see Gilda married to a heathen.”

“
Then marry her to me,” Brody casually replied. “I will cherish her for you, Fallon, and I’m as God-fearing a man as any you might want to meet.”

“
Are you?” Fallon asked, giving his friend a lopsided grin. “You looked more like Goliath than David yesternoon when we fought that knave Harden.”

Brody laughed, then fell silent as Fallon continued to consider his choices.
“I have thought much about Wart,” he finally said. “I was charged to take care of my students and bring them to safety and service in Virginia. Though they may have found service, they did not find safety. I think it may now be my duty to visit the plantations where they are and charge the planters with the good care of the boys.”

“
And if you encounter another like Tobias Harden?” Brody asked, crossing his burly arms. “Will you break your other hand?”

“
Nay,” Fallon answered, feeling his cheeks burn. “There must be a civil recourse. If a cruel master will not hear the admonitions of God to treat servants fairly, then I will appeal to the governor and to the King himself, if necessary. Perchance something can be done, and if I can be the instrument, I am willing.”

Brody regarded him in silence, then uncrossed his arms and extended a hand.
“I am glad to know you, Fallon Bailie,” he said, grabbing Fallon’s uninjured hand and pumping it earnestly. “When we were boys, I thought you a prince. And now that we are men, I know you are.”

Fallon waved away the compliment and stood to his feet.
“So I suppose you will want to go now,” he said, glancing back toward the tall walls of the fort. “The next time I see you, you’ll be wearing the regimental red.”

“
And where will you be going?” Brody asked, concern shining in his eyes. “Y’are in no condition to travel far.”

“
I want to see Wart, and if Mistress Rolfe is running an infirmary, mayhap she can tend to my hand as well,” Fallon answered. He stepped back and saluted his friend. “‘Till we meet again, Brody McRyan.”

The third passerby pointed out the large, tidy-looking house kept by Mistress Edith Rolfe, and as Fallon opened the
gate and walked up the flower-lined pathway he tried to ignore the hopeful voice in his head whispering that Gilda might be there. He could not sort through his feelings about her—he had found her and wanted to protect her, but she wanted no part of his protection and seemed to regret that she’d been found. If she wanted to go back to Opechancanough’s village and marry that painted heathen brave, what right had he to stop her? But ‘twould be better if she married a Christian. Though he had always imagined she would marry Noshi, if Brody was willing to marry her, mayhap he should force her to consider that option. But she would have to prove willing to listen to him, and when they had parted, she had scarcely been willing to speak.

The door of the house swung open as he approached on the path, and a tall, solidly-built woman leveled a musket at his chest.
“State your name and business,” she said firmly, her colorless lips flattening. “And know that I am willing to shoot any man that walks.”

He lifted his arms in a
“don’t shoot” pose, and his injured hand throbbed as he raised it. “I am Fallon Bailie, and I’ve come to see about Watford Clarence,” he said. He jerked his head toward his hand. “And I’m injured myself.”

The woman lifted her brows eloquently at the sight of him, then lowered the musket.
“I have heard of you, Master Bailie,” she said, her eyes flickering with a sort of reserve he couldn’t place.

“
Pray excuse me,” Fallon said, slowly lowering his hands. “But I am seeking Mistress Rolfe.”

“
I am Mistress Rolfe,” she said, standing the musket in the doorway. She folded her arms and leaned against the door frame as she swept appraising eyes over him. “I heard about the fight and your night in the gaol. Y’are to be commended, sir, for defending a boy, but I cannot allow a strange man inside my house—”

“
He is no stranger,” a soft voice interrupted, and a golden hand pulled the door open further. Fallon blinked in surprise when he saw Gilda, for she no longer wore the buckskin tunic of an Indian, but a delicate embroidered blouse and the elegant kirtle of an English lady. Her hair, still as dark and glossy as a crow’s wing, lay piled in elegant curls atop her head, and her gaze fixed him in a blue-eyed vise.

“
Is this—” the mistress asked, and Gilda nodded. “Ah, then,” Mistress Rolfe said, extending a hand of welcome to Fallon. “Come in, sir, and see for yourself how your student fares. The entire town hath heard of your brawling in the streets, and though I’ve never been one to countenance street fighting, I have to admit that you saved the child.”

Gilda moved away as Fallon came into the house and followed Edith through the roomy front hall.
Wart lay in a small chamber that stood like an afterthought at the side of the structure. The room was heavily curtained and dimly lit, but he could see the small outline of a boy underneath a thin summer blanket.

“
He had a fever when he was brought to us,” Mistress Rolfe said as Fallon knelt by the boy’s bed. “But the fever broke last night and Numees says he will be better soon.”

“
Numees?” Fallon asked, confused. Then he remembered. “You mean Gilda.”

The woman shook her head slightly and touched her hand to her forehead.
“Yea, she told me the story. ‘Tis difficult to believe, sir.”

“‘
Tis total truth, I assure you,” he answered, turning to Wart. He placed his left hand upon the boy’s forehead, and Wart’s thin eyelids flew open at his touch. “Master Fallon,” he whispered hoarsely through swollen and cracked lips. “Is it really you? I wondered if you’d come.”

“
Of course,” Fallon whispered, forcing a smile even though the sight of bruises upon the boy’s face made him want to break his other hand on Tobias Harden’s jaw. “Sleep, Wart, and regain your strength. Then you shall be my assistant, for I have important work to do.”

“
I’d be happy to help you,” Wart murmured, his eyes closing slowly. “But I fainted in the tobacco field and the master hit me . . .”

Fallon waited until the boy resumed the heavy breathing of sleep, then he smiled his thanks at Mistress Rolfe.
“My good woman, your medicine is marvelous,” he said, rising to his feet. “With a little time, and a little food, the boy will be better than he was on the ship.” Sheepishly, he pulled his bruised and swollen hand from inside his doublet. “And now I wonder if you have medicine that might help me?”

The woman grimaced at the sight, then she smiled and crooked her finger at him as they left the chamber.
“Numees—I mean, Gilda, is the healer,” she said, leading the way to the back room that served as a kitchen. “If you want to be healed, sir, you will have to speak to her.”

Kimi saw Fallon
’s eyes darken with pain as she palpitated the bruised flesh, but he did not cry out. “The fingers are not broken, only the joints,” she said, carefully lowering his hand to the table where he sat across from her. “I can give you an herb for the pain and tie your hand with a bandage so the inner flesh can knit together. But you must not use the hand for six weeks, nor should you remove the bandage.”

“
What about lice?” he asked, his eyes rising to hers like a scolded boy’s. He grinned sheepishly. “They do itch terribly, you know, Gilda.”

“
Don’t call me Gilda.” Her voice was sharper than she’d intended, and she made a belated effort to smile.

“
Then what shall I call you?”

“
Don’t call me.” She moved toward a drawer where Edith kept a spool of linen.

“
But what if I know of one who would call you wife?”

She froze, the spool in her hand.
What sort of monstrous joke was this? Fallon lowered his eyes as if embarrassed, but continued talking. “Brody himself told me that he would like to marry you. Y’are of an age, and Brody is a fine Christian man. You wouldn’t have to go back to Opechancanough’s people, Gilda. I know you can’t truly feel at home there.”

She caught her breath.
Home
. That word again.

“
So may I tell Brody you’ll consider him?” Distracted, she glanced back at Fallon. His blue eyes locked upon hers, and despite his pain he wore a firm smile.

She turned back to the spool and slowly unwound a length of linen.
She’d been furious with him when she reached Edith’s house, and only the woman’s patient counsel had calmed her. Then they’d heard about the fight, and when the boy came, delirious with fever, he’d moaned only one name: Fallon. She couldn’t deny that a man who would fight against impossible odds for the sake of a lowly child possessed honor and courage, but why did he feel he had the right to order her life?

She moved toward the table and grasped his hand, not caring if she caused him momentary pain.
“And what will you do while Brody considers marriage to me?” she asked, pressing the edge of the linen under his thumb as she prepared to wrap his hand.

For the first time, Fallon looked away.
“I came here with dual responsibilities. ‘Twas important that I find you and Noshi, but ‘twas urgent that I administrate the positions of my students. I failed in my administration, for Wart is one of my boys. My heart breaks to think others may endure what he hath suffered.”