Untitled for now

     They found him in the Croatoan Tree filthy, emaciated, and near madness. No amount of threatening or cajoling could bring the man down.  After several hours, and a drawing of straws, a soldier was sent to fetch The Governor.   He was not amused. 

     “I am not accustomed to answering the summons of filthy tramps.”

     “I am not accustomed to many things.”  The man laughed hysterically.

     “You’ll keep respectful, or you won’t keep.” One of the soldiers scolded, jabbing the tip of his spear at the madman.  White waved him off, a peculiar look on his face.

     “What is you name, Sir?” 

     “My name doesn’t really matter to you, Sir.” The man said, making the last word derisive. White’s fists clenched and unclenched.

     “Then what shall we call you? Cro�"“

     “That’s somebody elses name.”

     “Who�"“

     “If you want to know what happened here, you should stop asking questions.  We’ll want to be out of here before dark.  It’s when they come out.

     “Injuns?” A soldier asked.

     “You think Injuns are the worst things in these woods?”

     “That’s enough of that.” White said loudly. Too loudly.  He cast a nervous glance around the clearing. 

     “Ah…” The man said, a smile of cruel triumph spreading across his face. “They don’t know. They don’t know what this,” He gestured wide, encompassing the many half dismantled buildings.  “is. They don’t know where we are.”

     “We are in the New World, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth I’s colony of Roanoake.” White said firmly.

     “In Faerie.” Finished the man.  There was a lingering silence in the hollow.

     “Bollocks.” Muttered one of the soldiers, kicking a clod of dirt.

     “I’ll tell you a story, then.” Said the man.  “It begins with Virginia Dare.”

 

     The Dare girl was the pride of the empire.  The first baby born in The New World and she was English.  She was like any baby, plump, rosy, and squalling.  The whole colony doted on her, it helped that her birth marked  a significant upswing in the colonies prosperity, not to mention a downswing in the number of Native raid.  The girls parents were naturally immensely proud and found themselves, in particular the center of much good fortune.  Mr. Dare was asked to fill in for Governor White while he was abroad seeking further aid from Her Majesty’s government.  Mrs. Dare it was remarked, seemed to grow ever more radiant as the days went by.

     One night, on his way home, Thomas Copper noticed quite a lot of shouting coming from the Dare household.  Concerned that there may be trouble Thomas approached the house quietly.  Peering through the window he was alarmed to see Mr. Dare shouting at a young child.  When he paused for breath the figure Thomas had mistaken for a child spoke with a voice that could shatter mountains.

     “That is to be your final word, sir?”

     “It is.”

The figure bowed it’s head and shook it sadly.

     “So be it Things would have been so much simpler if you had just given us wat is ours.”

     “My daughter is my own, not yours.”

     “She was born in Faerie.” The figure said. “The first mortal born on the shores of eternity. She is of us. She will be ours.” Thomas blinked and the small figure was gone, the air filled with a tinkling laughter.  Mr. Dare looked up and saw Thomas through the window.

     “You heard?”

     “Aye.”

     “You weren’t meant to.” He heaved a large sigh. “Better come in, Thomas.”

     Seated in the Dare’s front room  Thomas learned the truth of Roanoke, and where the New World truly was. 

     “They found Virginia and now they want her.  I fear everyone will pay for my refusing them.”

     “What are we going to do, Ananias?”

     “We can’t tell the others, there would be panic.”

     “Or worse.” Thomas agreed, the unsaid hung in the air.

     “To the East lies the burnt village of the Croatans.” Dare said, after a time.  “They have been here far longer than we.  Perhaps they know how to save us.”

     “If we can even find them, how do we know they’ll help us? They have no love for us.”

     “Let us hope they have less love for the Fairy.”

     It was thus that Thomas Copper found himself leaving Roanoke at first light on the Dares fastest horse heading East. By noon he’d found the charred remains of the Croatan village that had been burned by earlier colonists. He stopped to eat and to relieve himself. As he refastened his pants he heard a voice behind him.

     “Why do you return here?”

Thomas turned and looked into the face of the Croatan who stood two full heads taller than Thomas with raven hair.

     “I need your help.”

     As they entered the clearing of the Croatan camp Thomas noticed for trees marking the perimeter of the camp.  He noted them because they all bore the same word, written in red paint, “Croatoan”.  Several of the tribes braves exited their tents as he passed, some fingering arrows and knives and some hefting large rocks, all eing him hatefully.

     Thomas and his guide halted in front of the largest tent.  The flaps parted and a thick set native came out.  Thomas guessed he was in his fifties judging by the gray near his temples.

     “You smell of the Small-folk.”

     “I have seen one.” Thomas said lamely, unsure of how to respond.  The Cheifran nodded at this.

     “What did they want?”

     “A child.” This earned another nod.

     “You did not let them have it?”

     “No.” Thomas said.

     “You believe that one life is worth more than the many?  A life that cannot yet fight, cannot yet work?”

     “Yes.” Thomas said, appalled at the chieftain’s words.  The Chief measured Thomas for a long moment and then nodded once more. 

     “Good.” He motioned for Thomas to follow him.  They entered the large tent and sat in the center.

     “What would you ask of me?” The chief asked at length.

     “Help us stop,” He thought back. “The Small-folk.”

The chieftain sat in silenece again for some time, as if weighing a choice in his mind.

     “Long ago, before our tribe was many, when the moon still swam in the sea our ancestors, Croatan and his wife had a child.  When the child reached her second year Croatan and his wife were approached by The Small-folk.  They demanded of Croatan a bounty for permission to live in their lands.  They demanded his child.  When Croatan refused them they swore terrible vengeance. 

     Croatan sought far and wide for anyone who could help him save his family.  One night he met an old woman, a witch who told him that there was one way he could save his child.  She produced a knife made of a fallen star and told Croatan that he must use it to cut his wife’s throat.  Such an act would be so repulsive to the Small-folk that her blood would keep them at bay as long as he anointed four tree surrounding his family, the Small-folk would never be able to touch them. 

     Croatan did this most unwillingly and at his wife’s insistence.  He took his child and the blood of his wife back to their camp and used the blood to spell her name on four trees. When the Small-folk came, they found they could not touch Croatan and his child.  To this day we anoint four trees with the names of Croatan’s wife, for that name is cursed to the Small-folk and we must be cautious for all you see here are descended from Croatan.

     “Croatoan.” Thomas said finally.  The chief nodded.

     “Why would you tell me this?  Our people have no love lost between them.”

     “It is my hope that in helping you, we may yet find peace between our nations.”

     “That is my hope as well, Cheiftain.” Thomas said, smiling.  The Chieftain smiled back as well.

     “You will return to your people then? “

     “It is late.  I will, with your permission rest here tonight and return in the morning.”

The Chieftan looked alarmed.

     “It must be now.”  He said, rising and calling out in a language Thomas didn’t understand. He turned back to Thomas.  “The Small-folk will not wait as they did for Croatan.  Return before nightfall or all will be ruined!”  A brave entered the tent holding the reigns of a a fresh horse.

     “Ride as fast as you can, and pray you make it.”  Thomas mounted the horse quickly and raced out of the tent, out of the clearing, praying he was not too late.

 

     “I was.” The man who had been Thomas Copper told the soldiers.  “By the time I got back the town was over run with them.  Have you ever seen a child rip a grown man in two, Governor White?” 

     White said nothing. 

     “I was lucky, they were too busy slaughtering the village.  They overlooked me.  I had enough carve that,” He pointed at the word etched into the trunk of the tree.  “and climb up here. Two days later Charlie Applegate came back from hunting.  I tried to get him to come up here but he just laughed at me.  Then night fell and he didn’t laugh anymore.  He screamed.  He got that far,” He pointed at the tree opposite him with the letters CRO etched into the trunk. “before they got him.”

“How have you survived?”  One of the soldiers asked.   The man who was Thomas Copper shrugged.

     “Luck I suppose. I haven’t seen the Croatan’s since their Chief died some time ago. Their new chief didn’t take a shining to me quite like his predecessor did.  There’s fruit all around and water in the well, plus we haven’t had winter since th�"“ A gun shot cut him off as he tumbled backwards out of the tree, dead.  Governor White blew the smoke from the mouth of his gun. 

     “Well, well, well.  We have quite a mystery on our hands, gentlemen.  A deserted colony and our only clue is this strange word.”  He gestured towards the tree trunk.  White eyed his soldiers. “That is what we found, right gentlemen?”  The soldier mumbled assent.  “You would all be wise to forget what you heard here, Her Majesty doesn’t like underlings knowing her secrets.”  The soldiers all looked unhappy.

            “A pity.” White continued, turning back towards the shore and heading for the boat, soldiers in tow.  “We will just have to start again, I think.”  The soldiers who looked back for one final view of the Croatoan Tree swore to their dying day they saw the body of Thomas Copper drug away to the sound of tinkling laughter.