Page 53 of Dark Tides
Ned ignored the truth. “It makes the English anxious.”
“You should be anxious, if you make laws, put them on us, and then break them,” Wussausmon said.
Ned sighed and gave up on the interrogation. “I’ll tell Minister Russell that you’ve been a good friend to us today. Are you coming back to Hadley this season?”
“I am going upriver.”
There were no English settlements north of Hadley; if Wussausmon was going further north it could only be to meet with other tribes, and to invite them to join in a land freeze against the settlers—or worse.
Ned could not hide his unease. “If the Massasoit is unhappy with the governor and the Council at Plymouth, or the governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony Council at Boston, he should speak to them. Better to deal with them direct. We don’t like to see you talking among yourselves—joining together.”
“For sure you don’t!” Wussausmon smiled. “And I often speak withthe English governors. The Massasoit is trying to get everyone to agree to stop selling land. He wants us to work as one power. Like you do.”
“But he can’t order them?”
“No,” Wussausmon said. “He can’t. He would not. That is why I go north and west for him, to get agreement with the tribes on your borders. Our leaders have to agree with their people, they are not tyrants like your king.”
“Well, I’d say he’s a better man for that.” Ned was conscious of his divided loyalties. “But you don’t ever want to quarrel with us.”
“I have no quarrel with anyone,” Wussausmon said quietly. “I live under your laws in your town; but when I am in the forest I live under our laws. I have to serve Po Metacom as he asks, I am his man.”
“But converted,” Ned suggested. “You are sworn to God. You’re attending him at our request: as his tutor, as our ambassador. You were raised in an English home. You’re our man too.”
He nodded. “I am of two worlds,” he said.
“That’s can’t be easy,” Ned said, thinking of the divided loyalties of his home, of his sense of not belonging here, in the world that he thought would be his own.
“It is not.”
JUNE 1670, LONDON
Alinor was well enough to dine with Alys and Livia in the parlor and was curious where Livia had been all day.
“I am making progress,” Livia said happily. “I have seen the gallery and his garden where we can show the antiquities. They are suitable. So, you can send a ship for my things from Venice.”
“But who will load them?” Alinor asked.
Livia spoke to Alys. “My first husband’s steward still runs his workshop in Venice, as he did when my husband was alive. He still stores our goods, for loyalty. I have no money to pay him since my dear Roberto died. But he will do whatever I ask. I will write to him and tell him to pack the pieces that are stored.”
“You must trust him,” Alinor remarked.
“Oh yes! He was very good to me when my husband died and the family tried to take everything.”
“He helped you to hide the treasures?” Alinor suggested.
“He knew they were mine. It was his workshop where they cleaned and repaired the treasures. He knows I will repay him, when the pieces are sold.”
“He was your husband’s steward; but he served you?” Alinor inquired. “And took your side against his master’s family?”
Livia showed a tremulous smile. “I think he was sorry for me when they tried to steal from me.”
“And Rob did not object to this partnership? This trusting partnership?”
Livia turned a laughing glance at her mother-in-law. “Ah! I see what you are saying. I must tell you that Maestro Russo is an old man, with a granddaughter of my age, and a wife who is a little old lady. His hair is white, he is stooped over a stick. He has been father and grandfather to me. He loved Roberto and thought of him as a grandson. And Roberto knew that he would do anything for us.”
“You’re very blessed in your friends,” was all Alinor replied.
“How long will he need to pack and load?” Alys asked. “We could find a ship sailing for Venice and write to him. But then how long will he need to get the pieces ready?”
