The Incredible Escape. The Adventures of Radisson 3 Page 10

  “The further we advanced into unknown territory, the more excited our chief grew. We were only seven. The danger was great. I was the youngest and I was afraid, but I followed my chief without complaint. I wanted to become a man. One night, while we slept, a great number of warriors took us by surprise and captured us. They brought us to the large village where they lived. We did not know their language, but a prisoner who had become their slave spoke our language well. The man was not mistreated. They had cut off two fingers from each hand so that he could no longer fight. He served a shaman and perhaps himself knew the language of the spirits. He was a good man.”

  Andoura broke off to take a sip of water and calm the emotions that were still raging twenty-five years later. Radisson was impressed, as always, by the daring of the Iroquois warriors.

  “That man saved our lives,” Andoura went on. “He spoke with his heart when he translated my words to justify our being in the land of the nation that had made us prisoners. We had killed no one. We had no scalps with us, no spoils. I spoke to him of Deganawidah. I told him we had ventured so far because our chief had a vision. He wanted to propose peace with the great people we were going to meet so that the Iroquois would form a strong, united nation with this people. The interpreter believed me and translated my words with conviction. From an apprentice warrior who had not yet killed or wounded a single person, that day I became a voice for peace. My lie saved us, because the village chief accepted the alliance I was proposing. He promised to send us back safe and sound to our country to announce the news to our people. From that day forward, our two nations would be united forever. My words of peace had earned us a great victory. My future had been plotted. The spirits had been clear.”

  “And the knife?” asked Radisson. “You haven’t mentioned the knife.”

  Andoura unsheathed his knife and rested it in the palms of his hands as he had done in Trois-Rivières. Radisson and he watched it carefully in the light of the fire.

  “The village shaman made it. Before we left, he took the iron knife I was wearing. Nobody in the village had ever seen iron, aside from the interpreter. A few people had small bits of copper on them, which they had gotten from neighbouring nations they traded with. But they had never seen such big pieces of metal—so hard and sharp—as our iron knives and axes. They were very impressed. The shaman made the handle of my knife from the horns of an animal we saw over there. It was huge and very strong. It gave them all they needed. They called it a buffalo. He fashioned the handle into an eagle head because we had come from far away, from an unknown land, as though we had flown over lakes and forests. I swore I would take care of it as a sign of the alliance between both our peoples, an alliance that went beyond our differences, like an eagle soaring in the sky and coming back down to earth to feed.”

  Andoura looked up at Radisson and appeared stunned.

  “I do not understand why your knife is identical to mine. It was made for me, and you never went there. I do not understand…”

  Radisson was just as mystified as he was.

  “And yet it was the same person who made them. I don’t see any other explanation.”

  Their eyes met. It was a fascinating story that confirmed all that Radisson had been through since leaving his Iroquois family. He was moving in the right direction, along the path of peace, like Andoura. But all was not yet clear.

  The two women stood now that Andoura’s story was over. Lavionkié tried to get Radisson’s attention, and he was pulled from his thoughts, enchanted by her beauty. Lavionkié looked at him differently that evening. Her gaze was full of light, more intense. She wished him goodnight with a knowing look, then retired to her bed, in the half-dark at the side of the house. Radisson still felt as though she were beside him. Her shadow filled his heart. Ogienda went off to bed, too. Andoura and Radisson were alone.

  A few fires down, the laughter from the group of Iroquois had died down. Only two or three of the men continued to chat around the dying embers of the fire.

  “The chiefs met again,” Andoura said, looking worried. “A grand council was held before the hunters left.”

  Radisson knew this already, but pretended not to. Their plan depended on his discretion.

  “The efforts you made to honour us did not change the opinion of the majority of chiefs. The French are now in great danger. You must take care, when the hunters return. The Iroquois might attack you.”

  Radisson feigned surprise, delighted by Andoura’s honesty. Then he puffed out his chest.

  “No one will ever take our fort!” he replied, firmly but quietly so they would not be overheard. “The French fear nothing. If your warriors are foolish enough to attack us, then so be it! We will fight and defeat them. Too bad for them. But I am sure that your chiefs can still be convinced otherwise. We will host them for another important festival—Easter—which coincides with Father Ragueneau being back on his feet, I was told yesterday. The Iroquois will never have seen a celebration like it. I still want to fight for peace, Andoura, as you have done. Please do not abandon me. I ask that you stay strong. We can still do it.”

  Andoura answered with silence. He held out little hope of turning things around. Hardly any Iroquois now made a case for the French. Awenissera had been marginalized. The Mohawks and the Hurons had persuaded almost all the Onondaga to put an end to the French living among them. Now that the League of Five Nations had regained its cohesion, the disadvantages of allying with the French outweighed the advantages. It had been decided. Radisson shared this opinion, but he had to play his role right to the end.

  “I promise you one thing,” Andoura responded. “I will speak up for you. We will need an interpreter to negotiate with the French in the future. You know both languages well, and many Iroquois trust you more than any other Frenchman. Your life will be spared. I can promise you that. I will do for you what the interpreter I met so long ago did for me. I will not let you down.”

  “Thank you, Andoura. I am moved by your promise. But I do not want to think we will reach that point. The feast of Easter will be celebrated in style and we will implore our powerful God to come to our aid. Everyone will eat as much as they please, as is your tradition. The chiefs will have to come. Again I am counting on you to convince them to attend this great celebration.”

  “I admire your determination. I will help you, for it is my destiny. But keep in mind that the battle will be hard and perhaps in vain.”

  “Garagonké told me that it takes more courage to bring about peace than to win a war. I have this courage.”

  “So do I.”

  Andoura, too, went to bed for the night. Radisson remained alone, gazing at the flames that were born and died in the embers, flickering like the final steps of exhausted dancers. For all that, the embers were no less hot, and the trance was no less intense in the hearts of the shamans who had danced themselves to exhaustion. Radisson had no doubt that their plan was going to work now that Father Ragueneau had given the signal for the final stage. He was returning with valuable information from his stay with the Iroquois. He had not come in vain.

  He had not heard the young woman come up to him, but suddenly he felt Lavionkié’s warm hand on the back of his neck. He turned to speak to her, but she put a finger to her mouth right away to tell him to be quiet.

  “Shh.”

  Lavionkié picked up a twig from the ground, set it alight in the embers, and held it up to Radisson’s mouth. It meant “I want to make love to you.” He blew on the flame by way of reply: “Me too.” She led him by the hand to the area vacated by the neighbouring family, several members of which had gone hunting. Those left behind had temporarily moved in with another family. Lavionkié had it all planned out. She unfurled the bear and beaver pelts she had left on the ground and undressed. Then she helped Radisson take off his own clothes and remove the sheath for his knife. She pulled him to the ground beside her and covered him with another pelt. She kissed him passionately. Radisson grabbed at her, under the sp
ell of his beautiful Iroquois.

  ***

  From where he was, Radisson watched Ogienda get up first. She saw the couple lying in each other’s arms beneath the pelts, but didn’t take much notice. She had seen it coming for a while. It was too early to start worrying about the marriage their romance might lead to. Better to let them enjoy themselves in peace for the time being. Love could be fickle.

  Radisson had woken up before everyone, as soon as the darkness had cleared. He intended to enjoy his last moments with Lavionkié, his wildflower, his sweetheart. He caressed her hips, her waist, her breasts, her face, her hair, her arms, her belly, her thighs, as soft as the silkiest fur, as warm as the most comforting hearth, as beautiful as the sun in the springtime. He would never tire of it. She was still half asleep, pressed tight against him, her back buried in his stomach, embedded in his flesh. She was a wonderful woman and he was free to marry her since they weren’t from the same clan. But today he had to leave forever. It was better this way, even though it hurt. He didn’t want to live his life among the Iroquois.

  Andoura’s offer hadn’t changed his mind. There was no way he would allow himself to be a prisoner/interpreter. No way he would spend his days living in dread, afraid he would be executed because of a dream or because a chief was angry. He had already said no to this way of life. He would not be going back. He didn’t want to bring Lavionkié with him either, far from her brothers and her country. She would be hated and despised by the French, just as he suffered here. Their love was a gift from heaven, wonderful but fleeting, like a ripe fruit that had to be enjoyed at just the right moment.

  Radisson looked down at the eagle-head knife lying on the ground in front of him. For once, it wasn’t pressed tight against his skin. He took stock and better understood the meaning he was to give it after Andoura had told him his story. Ononta did not know why the handle had been made. He did not know the powers the shaman from another country had invested in it. He had not been able to tell him everything.

  Radisson could see more clearly now: his destiny would not stop here, nor in New France. He would have to go far out west to where the knife had been made, to where the knife was pulling him. It was showing him a direction to follow. His life was one of travel, discovery, and peace. His flight would have to take him further.

  When he closed his eyes, Radisson felt as though he were slowly taking off, like an eagle spreading its wings. He felt completely free, ready to leave. The Iroquois were turning a deaf ear to the invitation extended to them by the French, but other nations might listen. It was up to him to find them.

  Lavionkié started to stir. She rolled over and wrapped her arms around her lover’s neck. She kissed him. Then she greeted him with an impassioned look.

  “Good morning, my lovely Lavionkié,” Radisson replied as he caressed her beaming face, her dark silky hair, her mink-like back, her exciting curves.

  Life seemed simple when their gazes met, reflecting back the same shared happiness like two mirrors. But the reality they lived in was anything but simple.

  “I have to go back to the fort today,” Radisson added.

  He still had to invite a few people to the Easter feast before he left. Lavionkié made a face as she snuggled into Radisson’s arms. Radisson held her tightly.

  “When will you be back?”

  “In a day or two… There’s going to be a big feast at the fort. You could come this time.”

  Lavionkié did not answer. She knew that her mother, who had little time for the French, would be against it. And yet Radisson was so kind, so warm, so strong. She could have spent the whole day in his arms. But she had to let go of him so that he could leave.

  ***

  Radisson found Robert Racine and two other Frenchmen waiting impatiently for him outside the chapel. With the invitations made, they were now eager to get back to the safety of the fort. The journey took no time at all. The sentries opened the gate for them. All that remained was to proceed with the final preparations.

  Commander Dupuys regularly sent out men to watch the river and the great lake of the Iroquois to keep an eye on the ice that covered them. Never had the French waited for spring to come with so much hope. They rejoiced as the blazing sun melted the snow. But they fretted every time the cool nights left a thin layer of ice on the water’s surface. As soon as conditions seemed good enough to allow navigation, the signal was given.

  Radisson could see that the two flat-bottomed boats were ready and covered in canvas beneath the birch-bark canoes, which had all been repaired. The bags had been sorted and packed up. Everything was ready for them to leave. Most of the French didn’t mind having to leave valuables and pelts behind them, provided they escaped with their lives. Bringing everything with them was impossible. But Radisson looked bitterly at the fifty bundles of pelts that had been set to one side. So much effort for no reward. Another missed target.

  Radisson met Father Ragueneau in the Jesuits’ apartment.

  “At last, there you are!” cried the Jesuit.

  “Are you well, Father?”

  “Very well, thank you. But it was high time for me to spring back into action.”

  The Jesuit had begun preparing the Easter celebrations.

  “It hurt so much to be paralyzed for a whole month.”

  “Did Takanissorens visit you, as he promised?”

  “Just once. He brought me tobacco and advised me to offer it up to the spirits. He says they were probably angry when I injured myself. That’s how he sees my accident. I told him that our God liked tobacco, too, and that I’d be sure to make the offering. He seemed happy.”

  “Did you really hurt yourself, Father?”

  “Not at all! I followed your plan to the letter. And may God help us see it through right to the end!”

  “You seemed to be in so much pain that I feared you had really hurt yourself.”

  “I hurt my hip as I bumped up against a few rocks. That helped me cry out all the louder. But two days later, I didn’t feel anything at all. Only this darned plaster, which has left me limping around. What an ordeal! It drove me mad to be here half paralyzed, even if there was nothing wrong with me. I took the opportunity to pray for us, morning, noon, and night.”

  “The surgeon played his role well. He didn’t breathe a word to anyone?”

  “As silent as the grave. And you’re right: he played his role to perfection! I even wondered if I had really hurt myself when I saw him so upset. Any word of the hunters?”

  “They will be back soon. We must leave.”

  “The men who keep an eye on the ice say we can travel along the river safely now. I suggest we celebrate Easter a week early, on Palm Sunday. The Iroquois won’t suspect a thing, of course, and God won’t hold it against us. If you don’t have any objection, I ask that you set out immediately to warn all our missionaries and invite as many people as possible to the feast. Your idea of thanking the Iroquois spirits for my recovery at the same time should help attract a crowd. First and foremost, make sure no Frenchman will be held captive in the villages. Everything is ready here.”

  “I’ll convince them, Father. I’ll see to everything. Don’t worry. The Iroquois won’t want to miss an even bigger feast than Candlemas. They won’t suspect a thing. Every single Frenchmen will be able to get away as planned.”

  “I hope so, Radisson. Did you let the people of Onondaga know?”

  “I did. I told them their spirits must be favourable to us since you healed so quickly and that it would be the greatest feast of their lives. Many told me they would be there. Andoura will encourage them to come. It’s going to work, Father. I’m sure of it.”

  “Go now. And take only men we can trust with you.”

  “Everything will be done as you intend, Father. I’ll see you soon.”

  As Radisson left the room, Ragueneau called him back.

  “Radisson!”

  “Yes, Father?”

  The Jesuit hesitated, but he considered it his duty to
swallow his pride.

  “Thank you for everything. You know that I do not approve of all your relationships with the Iroquois, but I must admit they have been indispensable. I knew that I would need you, but not to this extent. You managed to find a solution that, against all odds, is going to save us. Without a drop of blood being spilled. And you have put the plan into action like an expert. I congratulate you and I thank you on behalf of us all. I’m proud of you.”

  Surprised, Radisson accepted the praise humbly.

  “I did it in part for you, Father. Even though you perhaps committed an error by coming here, you don’t deserve that a single person should die because of your decision. It was a sound, bold project that could have brought us much. I have always supported you.”

  ***

  The fifty-two Frenchmen in Iroquois country were together at last. Father Le Mercier, who had travelled a great distance to get there, arrived last with a delegation of five Cayuga from his village. To play things safe, they didn’t allow a single man or woman from the hundred or so Iroquois who had come to enter the fort, claiming that it was inappropriate to celebrate the feast of Easter inside fortified surroundings. The shelter outside the fort that had been used for Candlemas had been made bigger and more comfortable.

  The celebrations began with a solemn mass sung by six Jesuit missionaries. During the sermon, Father Ragueneau thanked the Iroquois for having come celebrate with them the resurrection of the son of God, who reigned in heaven for all eternity, and sang the praises of the Iroquois spirits who had helped him get back on his feet. While convalescing, he said, he had a dream in which these spirits and the God of the French had become reconciled, granting extraordinary powers to all. He noted that the feast sought to make this dream a reality and to grant great powers to all. He encouraged them to honour their customs by eating everything the French put in front of them. If they did not, they would lose the opportunity to improve their people’s lot.

  Radisson was encouraged to see the Iroquois turn out in such numbers. On his way past, he had recognized many chiefs who were not favourable to the French, a sign that they had come to enjoy the feast and did not suspect a thing. Ragueneau’s sermon was designed to encourage them to eat as much as they pleased, and then some more, in case the dream were to become reality and leave them with new powers. It was a case of mixing business with pleasure. Radisson also took it to be a good omen that they were celebrating the day when Christ miraculously escaped death.