The Warrior (Perry County, Pennsylvania Frontier Series) by Roy F. Chandler

Author:Roy F. Chandler [Chandler, Roy F.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Historical Fiction
Publisher: Katherine R. Chandler
Published: 2012-06-23T04:00:00+00:00

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In utter mortification, Blue Moccasin left the mountains to live among the people of his white father. He slipped away in the night, unprepared to face his betrayal of the trusts given him.

Only he recognized the betrayal and no others would know. The words had slipped out unnoticed even by himself until they were spoken. Then it was too late. The Warrior had uncoiled from his cross-legged seat, and without speaking strode to his lodge. Pond Lily's soft voice intruded on Blue's shocked silence, and then The Warrior had reappeared, armed, with his mind set on the hunt. Stop him? Easier to halt the Susquehanna. The mighty figure melted silently into the forest.

Arrogance had caused it. Pride in knowing something others did not caused him to speak. Childish, childish pride and men would die because of it.

Yet it was not the deaths of those who raided the Iroquois that tortured the soul of Blue Moccasin; certainly it was not a fear for The Warrior. It was betrayal of the trust given to the message carrier. Knower of many things, welcome within all camps, hearer of a thousand confidences, he was bound by honor to repeat with care, that none would suffer because of him. The carrier of messages did not judge those who sent or received. He chose few sides and favored fewer viewpoints. He reflected the feelings of those whose messages he carried and disguised his own thoughts beyond revealing. Therefore, he could be trusted, even by those in hiding.

When he had thoughtlessly mentioned the village of the outcasts that too often harassed the Iroquois borders he had not fully considered to whom he spoke. To any other, the information would have meant little, for no other fighter or leader would have traveled far for so piddling a problem. But The Warrior? Like a clam he had closed on the careless words. Like an arrow he would speed to his targets, and there he would, without mercy, kill the enemies of his people.

For his tongue's looseness, Blue Moccasin chose severe penance. He would return to his white half and live among the stinks of his father's people. In Philadelphia he would wear clothes, study dead languages, and labor at difficult mathematics. Secretly, the studies could please him, but at this time he chose to dwell on the strictures of dress and unceasing demands of white ways.

Great would be his suffering, but well he deserved it. The lesson would be learned, for never again must a wagging tongue disgrace him. Few were the positions of honor, and message carriers stood high among those few. Like a whipped pup. Blue Moccasin slunk away to serve his self-imposed exile and regain his right to honorably carry the forked stick of a carrier.

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