Elliott Mabeuse - Triad

He finally found him standing at the water’s edge gazing out at the St Lawrence River. The inherent tension filling Ragtow’s body was easy to see. Joining him at the railing, they watched the ships ferry up and down the river.

“Long day at the office, cousin?” Sometimes Ragtow came down to the river when his job’s stresses got to him.

Ragtow shook his head. “I couldn’t concentrate today so I cut out early.”

Jack cocked his head and waited for him to continue. Sometimes patience was the best bet with his cousin. It paid off as Ragtow finally turned to face him.

“Do you think she’ll adjust to this time, Pajackok? I worry about it. This time is very different than the eighteen hundreds. She’ll never have even had any electricity, much less ridden in a car, or any of the other technological things we take for granted.”

“We’ll ease her into our world, cousin. That’s why we’ve taken time off from our jobs and we’re using the old homestead outside of town. I checked with Andy, the electricity is on. I plan on taking out groceries and everything we’re going to need for at least a two week stay. We’ll take care of her and make sure she doesn’t regret coming to us.”

Ragtow nodded. “I sometimes wonder if it would be better for us to return to her time than force her to adapt to ours. With your training as a nurse and mine as an engineer we would be a great asset to her people.”

“I know, but what would you do if you had to go without your Saturday morning cartoons?” Jack had meant it as a joke, but it was quite obvious his humor had failed when his cousin quickly turned to face him.

“I’d gladly give up my cartoons if it meant our woman would be happy.”

“You and I both, Ragtow. Come, it’s getting late. We’re going to need our rest before we start our journey tomorrow. It wouldn’t do for us to be so tired we can’t pleasure our mate.”

A grin broke over Ragtow’s dark face. “Speak for yourself, old man. I’m still young and studly. I’ll be able to pleasure our mate long after your member goes limp.”

“We’ll see who lasts longer, cousin.” Jack cuffed his shoulder, glad that whatever funk his cousin had been in was finally over.

Northern New York Territory, 1816

Onatah awoke to screams. Shoving the furs off her, she raced out of her mother’s wigwam. The sounds and smell of black powder guns filled the clan’s clearing as a familiar hand grabbed her arm.

“Mother!” She caught her mother’s falling figure. Blood was flowing freely from a wound on her temple. Instinctively she pressed her hands against the wound.

“Go, run!” Her mother’s hoarse plea fell on deaf ears.

“No! I won’t leave thou! You’re the only family I have left.” Kneeling in the slushy mud and blood splattered snow, Onatah refused to let her mother go. Struggling to her feet, she dragged her mother up. “I refuse to let thou go.” Half carrying and half dragging her mother, she ran as fast as she could from the village. When they finally reached the water’s edge, Onatah stopped, turned and sobbed. Her only home was a blaze as the soldiers set fire to every structure. The screams and shouts of her people had her turning to rush back towards the village when her mother grabbed her arm.

“Stubborn girl!”

“Let go of me, mother! I can help them.” Struggling against her mother’s surprisingly strong grip, she tried to help her people.

“I’m sorry, Onatah. There is no help for us now. Your sister foresaw the end of our way of life before she left. Now it’s time for you to join her.”

Disbelief washed over her and Onatah turned to face her mother.

“Mother, what are you talking about? Orenda is gone and my place is here with you and our people.”

Her mother smiled sadly at her. “Your place is with your mates. Go, they are waiting for you.”

Looking at her mother as if she’d grown three heads, she tried to back away from her, but the firm grip her mother had on her arm stopped her.

“I love you, daughter. Tell your sister, I love her and miss her. Now go.”

“Go where? She’s gone, Mother!” She cried out as her mother gave her a hard shove and she tumbled backwards into the fast flowing water. A scream left her as she sank beneath the surface. Coming up for breath, she tried to stay afloat as she was 269

washed further away from her burning village and everything she’d ever known.

Desperately she grabbed at a log near her, hoping to use it to keep from drowning.

Wrapping her arms around it, she rested her head against the rough bark as tears ran down her cheeks. As much as she longed to join her sister, she wasn’t ready to die yet.

“I love you, Orenda, but I can’t die simply to rejoin you, no matter what our mother wants.”

Onatah was jerked out of her daze when the log she grasped finally bumped ashore. Opening her eyes, she glanced around in the dark but nothing looked familiar.

Wearily she unwrapped her protesting arms and tried to stand. Swaying she tried to stagger and crawl out of the river. As her knees buckled, a pair of masculine arms wrapped around her and lifted her from the St. Lawrence’s icy water.

“Shh, ma puissance , I’ve got you, now.” The deep baritone nearly had her fainting. Had the soldiers found her? Looking up, shock washed over her as she recognized the man holding her. It was the man from her dream. What was his name?

Yes… Ragtow.

“Thou can’t be here! Did thou come with the soldiers?” Fear washed over her, and she tried to struggle in his arms.

“No, ma tranquillite, you came to us in our time.” The deep voice on her right had her head turning. It was the second man from her dream… Jack .

“Thou’s time? What does thou mean?”

“It’s the year two thousand and ten, Onatah, and the Great Spirit decided to finally gift us with you. You’re the third member of our Triad. Ours to love, cherish, and protect.”

A scream of shock and astonished disbelief escaped her and for the first time in her life, Onatah fainted.

The smell of something heavenly teased her nose. It smelled something like the hickory coffee her mother sometimes traded furs with the settlers for. With the lean winter they’d just come through, what few furs they’d managed to collect for trading had been used for staples such as flour and salt. Opening her eyes, she slowly sat up and looked around. She was in the longhouse from her dream! How had she gotten here?

She moaned softly as memories of the fire and her mother pushing her into the river.

She remembered fighting for her life against the strong current. Somehow she’d managed to survive the river but how…

The sound of two voices pitched low and speaking French reached her ears as the unfamiliar sound of what she thought might be a wood door closing and opening, had her looking around the room for a place to hide. How had she ended up in the settler’s village? If she stayed here, she’d be hunted as a witch for sure. The white man didn’t understand the difference between a medicine woman-healer and a witch.

Shoving the blankets off her, she sprang from the huge raised pallet only to stumble as her shaky knees protested the idea of her walking. The urgent need to relieve herself had her holding onto the wall of the room. Looking towards the door 271

where the voices were coming from, she chose to use the other one. She wasn’t taking any chances.

Slipping inside the room, she looked around in shock. The long basin along the far wall looked similar to what white men used to water their horses. But surely they didn’t bring horses inside? Spotting an oddly shaped seat next to it, she walked over and lifted the lid. Blue water greeted her. Seeing a shiny handle she experimentally pushed it. She jumped back as the water swirled as it disappeared only to be replaced by more blue water. What kind of sorcery was this? Licking her lips as the sound of running water increased her urge to relieve herself, she finally lifted the short gown she was wearing and sat down. She shivered when the cool porcelain touched her bottom.