The Smoke: Tales From a Revolution - New-York by Lars D. H. Hedbor

Author:Lars D. H. Hedbor [Hedbor, Lars D. H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: american revolution, new york, iroquois confederacy, haudenosaunee
ISBN: 9780989441056
Publisher: Brief Candle Press
Published: 2013-12-07T01:00:00+00:00

With the screaming throb of pain in his arm reduced to a dull, bearable ache, Joseph was able to give his situation more thought, even as he followed the band of Indians to whatever fate awaited him.

He did not think it likely that, after Jiwaneh had put so much effort into physicking his arm, the elders would decide to have him killed to further avenge the losses that the village had suffered, but he could not disregard the possibility that he might be spending his final hours on Earth walking in the forest.

The air had warmed considerably, and with the rays of the afternoon sun slanting over his shoulder through the now largely denuded trees, the light was gorgeous. As it darted amongst the branches, bits of sunlight highlighted spots of beauty that Joseph might otherwise have missed.

Like a living being, the sunlight showed him a squirrel, frozen in place for an instant before it chittered a scold at the passing humans, its tail twitching in irritation. It fell next on a cleft boulder, looking as though it had been dropped from far above by some playful giant. The intricately-wound branches of a yew bramble appeared in the next dapple, and then the shining white bark of a copse of birch.

The warmth of the autumn sun seemed to be waking a range of scents from the forest, as well. The sharp, agreeable aroma of a recently-snapped cedar trunk competed with the warm richness of the soil disturbed where it had fallen. As they passed beyond that, Joseph caught the musky, bitter echo of a skunk’s standoff with some predator, and the gentler smell of the fallen leaves underfoot, just starting to molder in the damp from the recent rains.

He noticed that Tanarou was looking even more alert that usual, his nostrils flared, and an inscrutable expression on his face. A moment later, he detected a whiff of what must have grabbed the Indian’s attention—a lingering scent of smoke in the air. With a palpable shock, he realized that it must be coming from the ruins of their village.

Joseph wasn’t surprised when the Indians exchanged a few fluid-sounding words and pointed slightly to the north of their present course. Ginawo asked Tanarou something, and Tanarou answered briefly, nodding grimly. Ginawo turned northward then, and the rest of the party followed him, their mood becoming increasingly tense as they went.

Within a few more minutes of long, determined strides, the group came over a slight rise to behold the outer edges of a wide clearing in the forest. The smell of wet ashes lay heavily in the air, and Ginawo motioned for everyone to stay concealed while he ranged ahead, silent and cautious.

After several quiet minutes, which the Indians passed whispering among themselves, Ginawo returned and made a very brief declaration. His tribe mates stood as a group, and Joseph followed their example. Slowly, somberly, they filed out of the forest and into the clearing where once they had lived.

The first thing Joseph

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