“By all means,” Xander replied, “if you are also willing to hear the growing list of offenses committed by the English since sixteen and seven. In my hand I hold Chief Opechancanough’s latest grievances. I can assure you and everyone in this chamber that though atrocities have been committed on both sides, we English are the foremost aggressors with our flagrant duplicity and pharisaical self-righteousness.”
A rumble went through the room. Not in his favor, Xander knew. He returned to his seat to retrieve a ream of papers while Claibourne continued the verbal assault he’d begun.
“Few here need reminding of the ten years’ war that ended only recently and may well begin anew. But for those ofus serving on the governor’s council who are courageous enough to lead expeditions against the Naturals—”
“Courageous?” Xander turned back around, clutching the papers. “What glory is to be had in burning Indians’ fields and destroying enough food to have sustained four thousand men for a twelvemonth?”
“How dare you—”
“Not only burning but keeping much of the plunder from the Indian towns for yourselves.” Xander looked from Claibourne to Harvey, who sat in stony silence. “These are the actions that return me to my appeal today—the need of royal commissioners to investigate such acts, which are, by English law, deserving of censure and punishment.”
“Are there not laws in place prohibiting trading with the Indians, which you yourself are guilty of?” Laurent stood as a disgruntled Claibourne sat. “I saw with mine own eyes your purchasing a great many goods from the cape merchant’s daughter before going west of your own accord. Are there not laws prohibiting such?”
Murray stood in Xander’s defense. “Laws that are antiquated and seldom enforced, as free trading abounds, especially on Virginia’s borders.”
Xander faced his opponents across several crowded benches. “I made no unlawful trade as you claim. As commander of my shire, I went west at the invitation of Chief Opechancanough in pursuit of peace. I brought the requisite gifts as any sensible envoy would.”
“Peace?” Laurent all but spat the word. “There’s been no peace, nor shall there be till every acre the savages claim is underfoot us Virginians.”
Other voices rose, joining in the vociferous cry against thetribes, spewing venom to all corners of the echoing chamber. Xander held his peace as the din grew deafening. He stared down at his papers, upon which he’d penned a lengthy list of Opechancanough’s most alarming grievances.
“Gentlemen, I see you all are in a passion, which makes men no longer themselves.” Governor Harvey’s voice became a hoarse shout. “I pray give a small respite to your anger and recover your reason!”
When the room finally quieted, Xander voiced his second cause—the proposed peace exchange. But how would it end? Chief Opechancanough was ruthless. He was feared. And guilty in the past of pleading peace while plotting mayhem. Most within this chamber would rather draw and quarter him than send Virginia’s children into enemy territory or entertain the Naturals in their own.
Xander’s gaze swept the florid, frowning faces before turning toward the governor, who seemed more desirous of reconciliation with the Naturals. “I beg you to consider the peace exchange proposed by Opechancanough between the Powhatan nation and the English...”
Xander picked a particularly large worm from a tobacco plant, mastering his disgust with the mettle of years in the fields. The pest writhed in his palm before he flung it onto a small fire made for that purpose. Smoke billowed in the early June wind, contained by several indentures intent on ridding the struggling, rain-soaked plants of yet another scourge.
Better the pests of the field than the council chamber.
The thought turned him wry as he looked askance at the clouds. The overcast held no threat of rain and spared his laborersthe sun beating down on shirtless backs. Though he’d long grown used to Virginia’s climate, he fretted about his indentures, who cycled in and out of Rose-n-Vale’s infirmary. He sympathized and prayed. His own seasoning when he’d first set foot on these shores had nearly been the end of him. First the dysentery from foul well water in James Towne, then when he was full grown, a recurring miasma that left him so depleted it was all he could do to pull on his boots.
Mattachanna’s coming had changed all that. She’d doused him with her tonics, most of them known healers among the Powhatans, and her practical partnership had renewed his purpose. ’Twas she who’d taught him how to raise maize and beans together, not in unproductive Old World rows but intertwined. Nor would his tobacco be what it was without her expertise. His step lightened in thankfulness before sorrow rushed in.
He picked his way down another row, shadowed by Mattachanna’s dire beginnings at James Towne. The dark memory hovered, though he tried to thrust it away as he sent another pest onto the snapping fire.
“Sir.” Hosea Sterrett, his farm manager, approached, hat in hands. “I’ve come to give ye a report.”
“A good one, I pray.” Xander turned his back on the next tobacco plant and gave the lanky man his full attention.
With a nod, Sterrett glanced at the pluming fire. “Glad to confirm the flax, hemp, and rice are thriving, as well as the black walnut groves.”
Xander ran a sleeve across his brow. “Much of our success is because of your oversight.”
“Ye give me undue credit when ye yourself work tirelessly, sir.” Still, Sterrett seemed pleased. “We’re readying a ton ofpotash to ship to England, in addition to wainscoting and a small quantity of silk from the mulberry grove. For now, I bring ye this.” He reached into his pocket and produced a large pink pearl. “From yer oyster beds.”
Xander took it, his would-be bride’s face flashing to mind. He nearly had enough for a lovely necklace strung on silken thread. “A beauty, mayhap the largest find yet. And such a peculiar color.”
“Is it true about the Powhatans, that they amass pearls in their treasure houses, even burying them with their dead?”
“Aye, the chiefs do, yet they tend to ruin pearls by firing them open.”
“I daresay ye’d fetch a royal price for this one even in London.”
Xander held the gemstone up to the light as the clouds parted. “Not all of Virginia’s treasures are to be exported, thankfully.”
“Rightly so, sir.” Returning his hat to his balding head, Sterrett bade him good day and resumed his rounds.
