War Woman (9 page)

The colonel studied him for several seconds. “Take two weeks’ leave to consider. If you still feel the same way afterwards, then so be it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Very well. Come back in half an hour to sign the report.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jonathan walked out of the army headquarters feeling relieved. He had done what he set out to do. His fellow soldiers who had fallen that day almost three months ago were now accounted for and he hoped that in time their families would find peace. Foremost in his mind however was the fact that within two weeks he would be free to rejoin Atsila forever. He returned half an hour later to sign the report and was assured by the officer who handed it to him that it had been checked over by the colonel for accuracy. Jonathan placed his signature next to that of the colonel’s at the end of the report.

Over the next two weeks he made preparations for his journey back to the village. He checked up on his investments and was pleased with the significant amount of profit his father’s friend had managed to generate. He would be able to access the funds whenever he needed, which would likely be within the next few months as the village prepared to relocate.

As the end of the two weeks drew nearer, he became increasingly excited. There was still a lot to be done in terms of preparations but soon he would have his official discharge papers and a new life in front of him. Most of all, though, every second that passed brought him closer to being able to reunite with his beloved Atsila.

***

Atsila woke with a start. It was the middle of the night and her family slept peacefully around her. She sat up, listening, but the village was quiet outside. Despite this, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. She had trusted her instincts all her life and wouldn’t stop now. Gathering her collection of divining crystals, she left her home quietly, careful not to wake the others.

Moving swiftly though the village, she passed the perimeter of buildings and into the surrounding woods, traveling surefootedly even in the dark. She had walked this trail many times at night when she had sought guidance in the past. Reaching the place she always used during her divinations, she knelt and removed her crystals from their protective wrappings. She made the necessary preparations and then remained still and silent, waiting for the sun to rise, before she began her prayers and interpreted what she saw in the crystals.

By the time she had finished, she felt weak and sickened. Death was coming to claim the village. She didn’t know when precisely but it was soon. She didn’t know what form it would take but if they didn’t leave the villagers would perish. There was no time to lose. Gathering and storing her crystals, she raced back to the village, her feet pounding on the ground but never faltering as she ran. Arriving out of breath at the village, she woke the elders and informed them of what she had seen. The rest of the village was awakened and a village meeting was called.

Atsila was adamant that the village had to relocate. It was a drastic measure but the divining crystals had not failed her before and she trusted her interpretation of their guidance was accurate. After several hours of discussion it was agreed that the village would start making preparations for the women and children to begin leaving within two days, with the men following a few days later. Since they didn’t know how long it would be before they could return, they would need sufficient supplies in order to be able to set up a temporary base elsewhere.  

The villagers worked quickly and steadily, making good progress as they gathered together various items and food supplies that they would need. It was agreed that Atsila would lead the women and children to their new temporary home while the men stayed behind to defend against any threat that might emerge. Though some warriors would accompany them, the majority would stay behind until the last female villager was ready to leave and then they would follow the women to their new base.

The village increased the number of warriors on watch during the night but nothing out of the ordinary occurred. The next day continued as the previous had with preparations for the journey. They would travel to the nearest Cherokee village to seek refuge and messengers had been sent on ahead to inform them that they were coming. The journey would take several days on foot but they would be ready to leave the following morning.

That night, unable to sleep, Atsila returned to the woods in order to try and determine with greater clarity what threat the village was facing. It would be several hours before the sun rose and she could begin her prayers, so in order to pass the time she walked to the waterfall. Watching the dark surface, she let her thoughts focus on Jonathan. Thirteen days had passed since she’d last seen him. She wondered what he was doing. Had he secured a discharge from his army? She knew she had to be patient. Such matters could take a while to finalize. Hopefully by the time they could return to the village, he would be free to join them.

As the first light of morning became visible in the sky, Atsila returned to where she would carry out her prayers. Just as she arrived, a scream ripped through the air and an icy fear descended over her almost instantly. She spun around and sprinted for the village as more screams joined the first one. By the time she got there, a full-on brutal battle was taking place. Cherokee and United States soldiers alike lay dead or dying on the ground while those still standing clashed fiercely, knowing they were in a struggle to the death. There would be no prisoners taken on this day.

Atsila surveyed the scene in horror. Amongst the fallen Cherokee were the bodies of women and children, from the very elderly to children who had just learned to walk. She knew no one would be spared and she had to get as many people out of the village as she could. The Cherokee warriors were battling like wild beasts but they were outnumbered and Atsila knew they couldn’t hold off the soldiers for long.

Racing to the village council house which had been designated as the gathering point for their journey, she entered and was relieved to see that the remaining women and children had grabbed what provisions they could carry and were ready to leave. Urging them to follow her, she led them outside to the back of the village before they entered the woods and ran. Some were able to flee faster than others but Atsila made sure that amongst them were people who knew the route and who wouldn’t need her to guide them. Atsila stayed behind with the stragglers including the elderly, the sick and those who were pregnant and unable to move quickly. She urged them onwards, helping them when they stumbled and encouraging them when they were exhausted. She didn’t look back as the sounds from the village faded. They had to look forwards now. There was no other option. 

They moved deep into the woods, taking refuge in the undergrowth and using it as cover when Atsila deemed it was safe enough for them to rest and catch their breath. As she stared at the faces around her, she saw grief and resignation. Everyone knew they would never be able to return to the village. There would be no one and nothing left to return to. Atsila had spotted the soldiers beginning to burn the village buildings during the fighting. By tomorrow there would be nothing but charred remains.

Judging her surroundings, she knew that if she ran she could make it to the waterfall in less than fifteen minutes. Informing the others that she would be back soon and they should rest and reserve their energy, she took off through the trees and didn’t stop until she had reached the pool. The agony of grief clawed at her, trying to take over, but she fought to maintain control. Now was not the time to indulge in such feelings. She had a duty to her people. They were counting on her and she wouldn’t let them down.

Knowing she didn’t have much time she scanned the area, looking for a suitable tool to help her, until she spotted a branch that lay nearby. Breaking off one of the smaller branches that extended from it, she ran to the base of the large rock next to the pool and began to dig, using the branch to help her scrape away the soil until she had created a small hole underneath the rock. Removing her pouch of divining crystals from around her neck, she uttered a prayer and then wedged the pouch into the hole before covering it with soil again, arranging the soil and a few leaves in such a way that the ground looked undisturbed. 

Instinctively she knew they were no longer hers to carry. They had served her well but she knew that they would be needed by someone else and that someone wasn’t her anymore. She hoped that, buried in the place where Jonathan and she had declared their love, they would be protected until the right person came along to claim them.

Her heart heavy, she stood and gazed around one last time at the waterfall. She had no idea whether she would ever see Jonathan again but she wouldn’t come back to this place. The soldiers would claim this land for their government. When the time came, as it surely would, she and the remaining people of her village would relocate with the village they were now going to seek shelter in. There was no holding back such destruction and greed. The removals would be enforced. However, a village was not the buildings within it or the land on which it stood. A village was its people and as long as they survived, the village would survive. They would have to adapt but she swore they would survive.

The horse that Jonathan had borrowed from Running Bear was saddled, a few provisions were secured to the pack horse he had purchased which would accompany him on his journey, and all he needed now were his discharge papers. Striding into the army camp’s headquarters, he waited until Colonel Farraday was available.

“So you still want to leave?” The colonel stood in front of his desk, surveying a map spread across it, but he looked up as Jonathan placed the discharge papers, which he had just collected from one of the staff, on the colonel’s desk.

“Yes, sir.”

The colonel looked at him for several seconds before he reached across for the papers. “Well, if that’s your decision, I wish you well in your new life.” He signed the papers and handed them back to Jonathan.

“Thank you, sir.” Jonathan stored the papers in his bag and turned to leave but before he could exit the colonel called out to him.

“By the way, I have a bit of good news for you. Thought you’d like to hear it as a nice start to your new life.”

“Yes, sir?” Jonathan paused and faced the colonel.

“Our forces are going to take that village where you were held prisoner.”

Jonathan went rigid. “I don’t understand…”

“Based on your report we were able to organize an attack on those heathens. The effrontery of killing United States soldiers could not go unpunished. It would set a bad example and put ideas in their heads that we can’t afford for them to have right now.”

“But there are women and children in that village…”

The colonel’s voice was dismissive. “These are dangerous times. Any notions that they could rebel against us without retribution must be quelled immediately. It’s best to nip this in the bud before things get out of hand.”

“When is this attack taking place?”

“I would imagine it’s already in progress. It was scheduled for this morning.”

No sooner had the words left the colonel’s mouth than Jonathan was running out of the headquarters. After frantically untying his horses, he swung himself into the saddle, roped both horses together and took off at a gallop, urging the horse he sat on to run at breakneck speed. Alternating between the two horses, he pushed them as much as he dared before they would collapse, as he couldn’t afford for them to go down. He slept only when the horses had to rest and though he hated forcing them to move again when they were so exhausted, he pressed on until he could see smoke in the distance where the village was situated. He gave the horses a final, brief rest and then didn’t stop until he reached the village, having cut the journey down by almost a full day.

Still wearing his army uniform, it was straightforward enough to enter the camp that had been set up around and within the village.  As he walked through the smoking, charred remains of what had once been a vibrant place full of life, he had to struggle not to show any outward emotion. Spotting one of the higher-ranking officers, he made his way towards him and bluffed that he had been sent from headquarters for a report on the situation. The officer accepted his statement without any questioning and informed him briefly that the attack had been carried out successfully as planned, with no survivors.

“You’re absolutely sure no one escaped?” Jonathan’s expression was neutral, but inside he was screaming.

“We attacked at daybreak. Nobody was awake except the lookouts and we overpowered them quick enough with sheer numbers. We were already halfway inside the village before they put up any kind of real resistance. We did a cursory search of the surrounding area after the battle was won but we found nothing. They didn’t know we were coming. They had no time to prepare.” 

“What did you do with the bodies?”

“We burned them over there.” The officer indicated behind him and Jonathan walked in a daze to the remains of what had once been people he cared about. As a means of self-preservation his mind refused to comprehend that Atsila’s body was there. Numb to his surroundings, he turned and walked slowly back to his horses. People brushed past him but he didn’t feel it. Faces were talking, soldiers were going about their duties as if it was the most natural thing in the world to have annihilated an entire village, but he couldn’t hear the words. There was nothing but an incessant low roaring in his ears as he reached the horses, mounted one and guided them both out of the village.