Authors: Rachel Hanna
“Yes, my brother.”
Oh shit
. That would be justifiable cause to want to kill him, regardless of anything she may say to the contrary. At least that’s how he would feel. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She continued to stare at him with those brown eyes that seemed to draw him in and cause him to lose himself without realizing it until it was too late. He looked away.
“I’m sorry your brother is dead.”
“He isn’t.”
Jonathan’s head snapped up. “Oh…” He tried to think over the warriors who had still been standing after he had taken the arrows to his shoulder and side. The one they called Black Crow, who had knocked him out, and the one they had taken prisoner...she had called him Running Bear. The prisoner had been shot though, but Jonathan was pleased to hear he had obviously survived his wound. He seemed to recall two or three others but the details had become fuzzy as his blood loss had increased.
“It’s because of him that you aren’t dead. Though he says the same could be said of you. He says you were kind to him. You stopped your leader’s assault on him in the woods. You also struggled with your leader when he shot my brother. They are saying, despite his injury, your actions saved his life. I am grateful to you.”
Jonathan stared at her with a mix of awe and speechlessness which was soon overwhelmed by a feeling of awkward discomfort. She was thanking him, a man who had contributed to the deaths of her clan members. “You don’t need to be grateful to me.”
“My brother and I are both grateful. It’s why you are here.”
“Pardon me? I don’t quite understand…”
“You will stay with our village now.”
“What? I’m a soldier of the United States army. I can’t stay here. I have to get back to my army base. If I stayed here that would be tantamount to desertion.”
She considered his words. “You seem to be a man of conscience. Think of yourself as a prisoner then. Does that ease your conscience?”
“Am I a prisoner?”
“You were until the
Ghigau decided what to do with you.”
“Who or what is that?”
The woman tilted her head ever so slightly. “It translates roughly in your language as War Woman. One of her duties is that she is given the responsibility of prisoners and decides what is to be done with them.”
“And what did she decide is to be done with me?”
“You are here to serve he
r.
”
“
You mean I’m a slave?”
The woman detected the hint of anger beneath his words, though he was trying to control himself. “This is not a punishment. This is a sign of gratitude for your actions towards Running Bear. Consider it as such. You could just as easily have been killed along with the rest of your men.” The words were said in a calm, almost detached manner. However, Jonathan didn’t miss the layer of steel beneath them. He reconsidered the woman standing in front of him. She was undeniably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen but there was more than just striking looks to her. Something told him she was a force to be reckoned with.
Jonathan reigned in his anger. It was no good to him in his current situation. “I apologize for any offense I may have caused.”
“Your response is understandable. The
Ghigau does not take offense.” The woman glanced at his half-eaten food. “It will get cold. You should continue eating. It will help with your recovery.” Then she turned back to her food preparation.
Jonathan resumed eating, pondering everything he had just learned. He could understand that it was an honor in a sense to be spared and there was no denying that he would rather be alive than dead. Still, the thought of being anyone’s slave irked him. He believed people should be free to make their own choices and live their own lives not dictated by someone else’s orders, provided they didn’t harm anyone while doing so. It was the reason he opposed the Indian removals. He didn’t know how long they had been here before the foreign settlers had arrived but for the most part they had lived harmoniously side by side. However, as soon as the settlers had set their sights on the native Indians’ lands – not least because of the gold that had been discovered there within the past few years – they had deemed it okay to essentially take away the Indians’ freedom.
Of course there were political intricacies, there always were in such situations, and he was a common soldier not much versed in the ways of politics. However, information spread, and being in the army it was impossible not to pick things up. He did know that a treaty had been signed by both sides – the United States representatives and Cherokee representatives – that had effectively sold the Cherokee land to the United States government and made the decision for thousands of Cherokee to relocate to other territories.
The problem was that those against the removals – both on the Cherokee and United States sides – argued that the treaty should be considered invalid. For one thing, it was not signed by the Principal Chief John Ross. He also knew the Cherokee National Council opposed the treaty and that the Cherokee representatives who had signed the treaty represented a minority group within the Cherokee nation. Regardless of these facts, the treaty was to be used as a legal means of justifying the forced removals of the Cherokee when their ‘voluntary removal’ period of two years was up.
Still, Jonathan had far more pressing matters to deal with at present. He needed to know what sort of situation he was in. “If you don’t mind me asking, what other duties does the War Woman carry out?”
“They are varied. The Ghigau has a voice in the Council of Chiefs. She is a peace negotiator and ambassador. She is also the leader of the Woman’s Council.”
“So how does one become a War Woman?”
“Generally through showing great bravery during battles. The Ghigau is highly respected. It is truly an honor to be the Ghigau.” The woman turned back to the fire to tend to the food. Jonathan finished his meal and attempted to stand up in order to find somewhere to wash his bowl. Noting his actions, the woman came towards him.
“Wait, I’ll wash that…” Jonathan tried to hold on to the bowl but despite his protests, she took it from him.
“You must rest. Your wounds need time to heal.”
“Thank you. I’m just not used to someone doing things for me. In the army you do everything yourself.”
“You have been in the army a long time?”
“Five years.”
“Have you been in many battles?”
“More than I’d like to have been. Nothing compared to Merks…” Jonathan broke off at the thought of Merks. The look of sadness that crossed his face was not lost on the woman.
“He was a friend? One of the soldiers who died in the fight with our warriors?”
Jonathan nodded. “Yes, he was the oldest of our group. He had seen the most action.”
“He was more experienced than your leader?”
Jonathan nodded again.
“Why was he not in charge then?”
Jonathan sighed. “He didn’t want to be. Our sergeant – our leader – had a ruthless ambition about him that Merks didn’t have and didn’t want.”
“Do you want that?”
Jonathan paused to consider her question before replying. “I joined the army to serve my country, not my own ambitions of glory. I guess that sounds like a cliché but I genuinely thought I could make a difference for the better. I think war is necessary at times and I’ve tried to fight the fights I believed in but lately…” His words trailed off before he shrugged.
“You don’t like the violence.” The woman’s words were a statement, not a question.
“No, I don’t like it. As I said, I think it has been necessary at times. You need to defend what you believe is morally right. But that doesn’t mean I like the means of doing it.”
The woman looked at him for a few seconds before heading to the entrance of the dwelling. “I’m going to inform people that you are awake. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Some people may come in while I’m gone since we will eat soon.”
Before she could exit the dwelling, Jonathan called out to her. “Wait! When do I get to meet the War Woman?”
“You already have.” She smiled briefly at his surprised expression before ducking out and leaving him alone.
Jonathan remained sitting on his sleeping mat, his back resting against the wall. The woman he had been talking to was the War Woman…the woman who had taken him as her slave. And she hadn’t bothered to mention who she was all this time he had been talking about the War Woman!
Part of him was annoyed that she had misled him…but then had she really? He supposed she hadn’t lied about who she was, she had merely not told him. Why would she have done that?
Probably trying to assess me…
He supposed it would be logical in her position. Try and find out as much as she could about her slave while restricting what he knew to a minimum. It made sense from a military tactical point of view. His own army would have done the same thing with a prisoner…would have done the same thing with Running Bear. He smiled bitterly at the irony of his situation. What should have been a simple reconnaissance mission turned into a disaster and now
he
was the prisoner. Still, he had to remain mentally strong. Whatever lay ahead of him, he had to withstand. If the Cherokee had wanted him dead, he would be dead and the fact that he was not was something to be grateful for. However he would have to keep his guard up and remain aware at all times. Perhaps he could escape once the village grew accustomed to his presence.
He paused in his musings at a flash of movement from the entrance. Though he watched the space for half a minute, nothing further occurred, but then suddenly a head poked through and stared at him. The young child must have been no older than five, though he stared at Jonathan with a boldness beyond his years. Something in the child’s facial features looked familiar but before he could think further on the subject, the War Woman returned. She said something in Cherokee to the child, who proceeded to enter the dwelling and walk to the fire where he waited patiently for the woman to give him a bowl of food, all the while watching Jonathan intently.
The woman noted the child and man looking at one another. “He is my sister’s son. He is curious about the man who saved his uncle’s life.”
Jonathan smiled at the child. That would explain the familiar facial features. The child turned to face the woman and asked her something in Cherokee. Turning her attention to Jonathan, she translated what the boy had said. “He wants to know if he can sit next to you.”
“Of course.”
The woman spoke to the child again before he walked towards Jonathan and sat on a mat near his own. Eating his food slowly, he looked at Jonathan with appraising eyes before speaking quietly to the woman. She smiled before turning to divide the food amongst several bowls.
“He really is curious, isn’t he?” Jonathan settled more comfortably against the wall and watched the child as the child in turn watched him.
“He says he likes your scars. You look tough, like you have been in many fights. He thinks you must be very brave.”
Jonathan wasn’t quite sure how to respond to those words, though the woman seemed to sense his uneasiness and changed the subject. “My family will be coming to eat soon. I hope you will not mind the company.”
Jonathan’s gaze was unwavering as he turned to face her. “I’m your slave. Does it matter what I think?”
His voice was calm and neutral in front of the boy but she could see the flash of defiance in his eyes.
His spirit is strong
, she thought to herself.
Calm on the outside like the surface of a river but a relentless controlled strength underneath. He will find a way through even the hardest of places
. “I did not use that word,” she replied in response to his question. “I said you are here to serve. I want you to help me when I ask you to, do the things I ask you to, but in return you will learn about our village. You will learn our ways and our customs so that, if you decide to leave us, hopefully you can return to your army and explain our point of view to them.”
“Your point of view? Hold on…do you mean you want me to plead your case for not relocating?”
“No. You do not need to plead our case. We just want to make sure the army is fully aware of the importance of these lands to us. If you felt you could do this for us, our village would be grateful.”
“So I can leave at any time then?”
“You can leave when the village thinks you are ready.”
“When is that?”
“When we can trust you not to betray us. We are accepting you into our homes and our lives. If, once you have spent time with us, you feel you cannot present our point of view to your leaders then we will accept that. However, we do not want you to use any of the information you will learn to harm our village.”
Just then a few of the woman’s family members entered the dwelling, breaking off her and Jonathan’s conversation as they took their food and sat down to eat. It was impossible not to notice how they would glance at him occasionally as they ate. Some were curious, like the boy, but Jonathan sensed a hostility from others that was understandable given the situation.