The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book I

Chapter 18: The Heights of Peril

The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book I

Chapter 18: The Heights of Peril

The bosun knelt slowly as he peered at the glowing dagger. He reached out and picked it up again by the hilt. The strange whispering voice came to him once more. I am the spirit of the blackstone dagger, Sawisa'longuess'ta'riksauritza, and I know your heart's desire.

The bosun rose gradually to his feet as he stared at the blade in his hand, holding it some distance away from himself. He shook his head. "You are no ordinary spirit. I know a demon when I sense one. You will not have my soul!" he decreed. "I know your kind is helpless without a human wielder. I will bury you where no one can ever find you!"

You need not speak out loud. You can use your thoughts to communicate with me, mortal. And don't flatter yourself. It is not your despoiled soul that I am after, the blade retorted.

The bosun gritted his teeth. You can read my thoughts?

Only the ones you direct at me, clarified the demon. Most of the time when you think I'm reading your private thoughts, I'm really reading your body language. I'm perceptive.

Still, the bosun was skeptical. How do you know my name when even I couldn't remember it? he interrogated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion at the blade. Who are you truly?

A primordial god, the demon revealed. What I know of you, your loved ones have told me. I can travel between here and the other side. On earth, I am confined to the blade.

The bosun knitted his brows. My loved ones?

Your sons, daughters, wives, brothers, sisters, parents, other relatives, and childhood friends. Who else? it said. You may feel alone now but that is just a temporary state.

You can talk to them? the bosun inquired, gasping. Are they truly all dead?

I do not know. I have only spoken to a few, the demon admitted. Listen, my friend. Some of the things you have been taught about my kind are not true. Like I said, I have no use for your corrupted soul. In fact, the two of us have one very important desire in common.

The bosun snorted. And what is that?

We both want the one you call 'Ivory Man,' the blade disclosed. But tell me something. I know why Adahy hated him. What is your interest in him when he has done nothing to you directly? Or has he done something to you that I do not know about? I have a suspicion about your reasons for hating him, but I don't want to assume incorrectly.

The bosun narrowed his eyes. And what is your suspicion?

I'll tell you after you tell me what you think your reasons are, it countered. I asked first.

The bosun sighed in aggravation. Fine. I hate him... because he is a prime representative of his kind. He's as shamelessly white as they come. I do not for one second believe Flame's claim that he's a Spaniard. It was the English who attacked my homeland. He is one of their barbaric kind. I'm certain he deceived his native friend. Now that I know she is a woman, I know why. The whites have a peculiar fetish for 'exotic' women. They must learn to keep to their own kind. How would they like it if some invading force went to England and snatched up all their wives and daughters? But they don't think about that because they see themselves as gods with the right to trample over the rest of mankind. They think we are animals! And this white man, this Ivory Man—he will keep that naive young girl as his concubine. She doesn't even realize his intent. The girl rightfully belongs to the men of her own tribe, not that white devil! I don't want to see history repeated. I don't know why but she reminds me of Shanqilshatsuq. She was my last wife. Our marriage ended in tragedy, which I would rather not recount at the moment.