Tea and Tomahawks by Dahlia Dewinters & Leanore Elliott

Author:Dahlia Dewinters & Leanore Elliott [DeWinters, Dahlia & Elliott, Leanore]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B016H3GXG8
Publisher: DeWinters Books
Published: 2015-10-28T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Village Realm…

The village was quiet at this time of night. Above her, the stars shone in the clear night sky. Mattie laid the now-quiet baby down at her mother’s side. Another group of escaped slaves had been brought in. These people had come from as far away as northern Georgia and were weary from the journey. She and the other women tended to them the best they could; still some were so weak and worn out that they died, but at least they died free.

Mattie waved a palmetto fan over the mother and her baby. Bundled sage burned close by to keep the mosquitoes away, and she had become adept at mixing the sticky ointment that kept the flies at bay. She touched the seed bead necklaces around her neck. Haiola had given her five of them over the past few months but had not gone any further. The other women took it for granted that she now belonged to him and treated her as such.

“Mattie.” His voice came from behind her, accompanied by a gentle touch on the shoulder. “Walk with me?”

“Yes,” she said. After checking on the sleeping infant one more time, she allowed him to help her down the several steps of the chicapee to the ground. As they walked through the settlement, women stirred pots of thick stew and baked bread for the evening meal.

Cheti Haiola’s—Rising Star—hand was warm in hers. “You must understand that it will be hard for us, as it is hard for every brown person in this nation. The white man truly believes we are less than he and cannot understand that everything does not belong to him.” He drew her closer and put an arm about her waist. “There is a story about a great chief and his Negro wife They were in a trading post, and white men took his wife away. They said she was someone’s property and had to be returned to its rightful owner.” His voice hardened with emotion. “They wish to destroy everything they cannot have. But…” He stopped walking and tipped her chin up. “…That Indian chief killed every white man in his path until he got his bride back. I will not let them take you.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “Will you share my pallet tonight?”

Warmed by his kiss, Mattie nodded in assent. “I will, yes.”

“Good. We will be blessed by the medicine man tomorrow as a public gesture, but the Great Spirit already blesses us. I knew that when I found you in the swamp.”

At the reminder of how she got there, Mattie stepped back from his embrace. She had to tell him. “I must tell you this, Haiola. I...” Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “I used to belong to the white man. I—he used me...” She lowered her voice to a whisper; her shame was so great. “…He lay with me as he lay with his wife.” She raised her sleeve to dry her tears.

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