Faltering Feathers

Chapter Two

The man's determination to take Amelia back with him was as strong as her determination to get away from him. Unfortunately, she was up against an entire tribe of people and her own group had yet to determine her absence. So it was no surprise to her when the man put a dirk against her neck and said to her in a very thick accent, "Come with me."

            She gulped. They were the savages that her people had talked about during the entirety of the trip, and now they had captured her due to her own stupid will. Amelia was not having any of it, though, and stepped back away from him and the dirk, but the man acted faster than her and grabbed her wrist once again. He pulled her into his bare chest and covered her mouth so those close by could not hear her scream. She kicked and punched, but he picked her up into his arms, making sure to keep her mouth covered. One of the other men from his tribe came over to them and gagged her mouth with what seemed to be a strip of deerskin. The material itself tasted earthy, and she wanted to spit it out but he had tied it too tightly.

            The man began to carry her away, taking the lead as the tribe of Indians followed shortly behind him. Amelia was left to spare one last glance back at her own people, before the trees became denser and she could no longer see them.

            All that was left was the crunching of leaves beneath their feet as everything around her stilled. Realization sunk in that she was becoming kidnapped by a group of savage people, and there was nothing she could do about it.

            The tribe walked far, making better time than her group of people that had traveled for weeks to reach their destination. She soon noticed that they were following a path of sorts, and only after that did she notice that the trees were marked with what looked to be marking from an axe or knife. She was baffled that the savages were so intelligent to make trails, as her people had made them out to be too animalistic to even think. Doubt clouded her vision for an instant, only to come back when they reached what seemed to be a sort of civilization amongst the trees.

            It was a rather large clearing in the woods, and it was at least an hour away from where her father and people stayed. There were teepees made from the skin of animals, women cooked to be what looked like stew from large pots, and others tilled the ground and were harvesting corn and squash. But, when they saw the rest of their tribe approach with Amelia in their arms, everyone had stopped to stare silently.

            One of the closer women dropped a pot in her hand, leaving the hard clay to shatter next to her feet. She rushed over to the man who was holding Amelia with a look of anger on her face. She rushed out many words that Amelia did not understand, her language and tone making it sound like she was scolding the man.

            The man replied in the same language, and the woman was silent for a long time before replying a single word. Then he nodded his head and walked away from her, with his people still following behind and others staring at them. He went to the largest and most beautifully crafted of teepees, but was stopped by a one of their warriors who stood proudly outside of the teepee. He gave one look at the man with Amelia in his arms, and then gave a curt nod, granting him entrance. The warrior held back apart of the teepee that was meant to be a door, so that he could enter. He ducked down so that he could enter, and went inside the darkened teepee that was only lit by a small fire within the center. Amelia looked up to see that the smoke was leaving through a small hole from the top, and it was a strange contraption to her but a clever one nonetheless.

            She had not noticed a large, older man with sternness written on his face until he had so abruptly grabbed her chin and made her stare into his eyes, "Who are you?"

            His accent was just as thick as the man who held her, but the older man gave her an expectant look before untying the gag and repeating his question. Amelia should have been more frightened, but she was not and instead she glared at the older man.

            "I will not ask again." He seemed to struggle with the flow of her English language.

            Amelia took a deep breath before answering him, "I am only a girl from which you have taken captive."

            "No," said the older man, "You are daughter of the white man who leads your people."

            Amelia was confused at how he had known that, but the man interrupted her thoughts by asking again, "Who are you?"

            "My name," she said finally, "Is Amelia Jane Cox."

            Just then the man who still held her repeated her name quietly, just loud enough for her to hear. It was as if he was testing her name on his lips, and this confused her even more.

            "What do you want with me?" she asked with wide eyes, "Surely I am of no use for you?"

            The older man answered her, "If you were of no use, you would be dead." Her eyes went wider at his answer, and he continued by asking, "Why do your people settle here on our land?"

            Amelia struggled to answer him, as if it was not obvious to the man, but then she hesitantly said, "Because we are in need of a home. A man named Mark, who led our people to this country, ordered us to find new land that was inhabitable. He has come here before, and pointed us in this direction. He is to join us later once we have developed a settlement, but until then he is making connections with important people up north."

            The old man pushed, "What connections?" 

            "I do not know," she answered honestly, "my father would not tell me."

            The old man looked up at the one who was holding her and spoke in their native tongue. They conversed back and forth before the older man looked back down at Amelia, "My son likes you."

            She gave a quizzical brow, taking note of their father-son relationship, "What does that have to do about anything?"

            The older man chuckled lowly, "I was going to kill you, but now you have a choice."

            "A choice?" She asked alarmed.

            "We can kill you," he said, making a look of dread appear on Amelia's face, "or you can marry my son."

            She sputtered, "What?"

            "You do not have long to make a decision," the man answered her, "Make it now or he will make it for you."

            Amelia held her head up high defiantly, looking him straight in the eye as she said lowly, "I would rather die."

            The older man smiled at that, giving her an all-knowing look before finally replied, "You are a strong woman who fears very little. My son has been watching you, and I fear that you have no choice after all."

            "What are you saying?"

            This time the older man smiled almost deviously as he too raised his head in confidence, "I am chief of these Cherokee people, and I make the rules, and now I will make the choice for you."

            Amelia feared the worst, "I do not understand."

            The older man chuckled lowly and she could feel arms tighten around her small form, "You will marry my son."

            And just like that, the strange man she had met before in the forest picked her up and carried her out of the teepee.