‹ Prequel: A Good Run
Status: 2 of 7 volumes. Active.
The White Doe
Nine
After George Howe's death, those who knew about such things took great care to protect the colony from vampire attack.
Reverend John Bright, the minister, blessed each house as it went up. Salt was spread over the entrances, supposedly a simple tradition, but much more than that.
White pushed hard for all the houses to be built quickly and for a protective wall to be ringed about them. Some argued that this would send the wrong message to the friendly Croatoans. White did not worry. He had spoken in private to Manteo and had learned much.
"We call them the Night Walkers," Said Manteo. "They are those who refuse to stay buried. After death, those who have these marks"--he touched the side of his neck--"if their skull is not smashed, they can Walk again. It is a second killing."
"You can also put a stake of wood through their hearts or cut off their heads." White said. "In our land, we have Walkers, too. Although most people do not believe they exist."
"They are very real." Manteo had said.
And White believed him. No, the Croatoans would understand the precautions. They knew what the danger was from those who Walked in the night. He had finally decided to tell Manteo his greatest secret. The Indian had proved himself a loyal friend and if the danger was as great as White feared, they would need his support.
"Where I come from," White had said. "There is a mighty warrior called the Slayer. She is born to each generation and her role is to destroy Walkers and other demons. Our God has gifted her with many talents--great strength, swift healing, superior senses, so that she may fight for us and protect us."
Manteo laughed, showing white teeth against brown skin. "You play with me, John White. A girl cannot do such things."
"The Slayer can. I tell you this because I have reason to believe that she will be born here, soon. In our colony or perhaps in your tribe. We do not know. I wished you to know of her, so that if she is born to your people, you can tell me. I am a Watcher--someone who trains the Slayer. It is vital that she be trained or else she won't be prepared for the trials to come. Will you tell me if such a girl is born to you, Manteo?"
"If a girl-child who has these skills is born to the Croatoan, White, then you will hear us shouting aloud."
'Yes, I have made the right decison.'
He was so lost in recollecting the conversation that the ink had dried on his quill. He scarce noticed when Ananias approached him.
"Governor," Said his son-in-law. "We must talk."
The other six assistants entered the small house, somber and determined.
White knew immediately this was not going to be a pleasant conversation. "What is it, gentlemen? How may I be of service?"
"That's just what we've come for," Said Cooper, shifting his weight from one foot to the other uneasily. "We need you to help us."
"Because of the savages and the delays the cursed Portuguese captain put us through, we are dangerously low on supplies." Roger Bailie continued. "According to the Croatoans, it's going to be a bad winter. We'll use up the rest then and have nothing left to plant in the spring."
White nodded, seeing where the conversation was going. "When Fernandez returns--if indeed he does, the blackguard--I'll send someone back to England with a request for supplies. Who would like to volunteer?"
Silence greeted his question.
"We were thinking, sir, that maybe it ought to be you." Said Pratt.
"Out of the question." He was the Watcher and he was beginning to believe that his little granddaughter might be the One he was supposed to be Watching. Of course, no one but his daughter and Ananias knew of that particular complication. "Someone else must go."
"Begging your pardon, sir," Stammered Dyonis Harvie. "But we've made up our minds. You're the only one with enough innfluence in London to get us a ship back soon enough to do us any good."
Sickened, White glanced from face to face, looking for someone, anyone, to raise a protest. Even Ananias looked at the floor.
Ananias knew how important White's secondary mission was. He knew about the Walkers. And yet he was willing to see White return to England.
For days, they argued.
Finally the assistants produced a paper that they had all signed, assuring anyone who might accuse White of leaving his people like a coward that he was going for their sakes.
The Slayer, if such little Virginia was, was hardly going to need Watcher guidance for the few months it would take White to return with supplies.
Ananias and Eleanor had helped him in attacking demons and vampires ere now; surely they would know how to defend themselves.
Fernandez did return, but he was impatient to resume his privateering.
On August 27, with the heaviest of hearts and praying that he was doing the right thing, White kissed his daughter and granddaughter good-bye, embraced his son-in-law and departed for England.
Reverend John Bright, the minister, blessed each house as it went up. Salt was spread over the entrances, supposedly a simple tradition, but much more than that.
White pushed hard for all the houses to be built quickly and for a protective wall to be ringed about them. Some argued that this would send the wrong message to the friendly Croatoans. White did not worry. He had spoken in private to Manteo and had learned much.
"We call them the Night Walkers," Said Manteo. "They are those who refuse to stay buried. After death, those who have these marks"--he touched the side of his neck--"if their skull is not smashed, they can Walk again. It is a second killing."
"You can also put a stake of wood through their hearts or cut off their heads." White said. "In our land, we have Walkers, too. Although most people do not believe they exist."
"They are very real." Manteo had said.
And White believed him. No, the Croatoans would understand the precautions. They knew what the danger was from those who Walked in the night. He had finally decided to tell Manteo his greatest secret. The Indian had proved himself a loyal friend and if the danger was as great as White feared, they would need his support.
"Where I come from," White had said. "There is a mighty warrior called the Slayer. She is born to each generation and her role is to destroy Walkers and other demons. Our God has gifted her with many talents--great strength, swift healing, superior senses, so that she may fight for us and protect us."
Manteo laughed, showing white teeth against brown skin. "You play with me, John White. A girl cannot do such things."
"The Slayer can. I tell you this because I have reason to believe that she will be born here, soon. In our colony or perhaps in your tribe. We do not know. I wished you to know of her, so that if she is born to your people, you can tell me. I am a Watcher--someone who trains the Slayer. It is vital that she be trained or else she won't be prepared for the trials to come. Will you tell me if such a girl is born to you, Manteo?"
"If a girl-child who has these skills is born to the Croatoan, White, then you will hear us shouting aloud."
'Yes, I have made the right decison.'
He was so lost in recollecting the conversation that the ink had dried on his quill. He scarce noticed when Ananias approached him.
"Governor," Said his son-in-law. "We must talk."
The other six assistants entered the small house, somber and determined.
White knew immediately this was not going to be a pleasant conversation. "What is it, gentlemen? How may I be of service?"
"That's just what we've come for," Said Cooper, shifting his weight from one foot to the other uneasily. "We need you to help us."
"Because of the savages and the delays the cursed Portuguese captain put us through, we are dangerously low on supplies." Roger Bailie continued. "According to the Croatoans, it's going to be a bad winter. We'll use up the rest then and have nothing left to plant in the spring."
White nodded, seeing where the conversation was going. "When Fernandez returns--if indeed he does, the blackguard--I'll send someone back to England with a request for supplies. Who would like to volunteer?"
Silence greeted his question.
"We were thinking, sir, that maybe it ought to be you." Said Pratt.
"Out of the question." He was the Watcher and he was beginning to believe that his little granddaughter might be the One he was supposed to be Watching. Of course, no one but his daughter and Ananias knew of that particular complication. "Someone else must go."
"Begging your pardon, sir," Stammered Dyonis Harvie. "But we've made up our minds. You're the only one with enough innfluence in London to get us a ship back soon enough to do us any good."
Sickened, White glanced from face to face, looking for someone, anyone, to raise a protest. Even Ananias looked at the floor.
Ananias knew how important White's secondary mission was. He knew about the Walkers. And yet he was willing to see White return to England.
For days, they argued.
Finally the assistants produced a paper that they had all signed, assuring anyone who might accuse White of leaving his people like a coward that he was going for their sakes.
The Slayer, if such little Virginia was, was hardly going to need Watcher guidance for the few months it would take White to return with supplies.
Ananias and Eleanor had helped him in attacking demons and vampires ere now; surely they would know how to defend themselves.
Fernandez did return, but he was impatient to resume his privateering.
On August 27, with the heaviest of hearts and praying that he was doing the right thing, White kissed his daughter and granddaughter good-bye, embraced his son-in-law and departed for England.