How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 226: Ritual Debate (1)

...Sigh.

I couldn’t help but sigh at the thought that I had barely managed to calm things down before the problem grew larger.

We almost had a war on our hands. If we had gotten involved in a fight entangled in long-standing tribal grudges on the opposite side of the continent, there would truly be no end to it.

It’s not that I’m afraid of losing.

What’s frightening is the resentment that won’t fade until one of the two sides disappears.

Anyway, if the problem had escalated and someone from our community had been killed by another tribe for the first time...

I too would have been unstoppable.

"Expelled while doing missionary work? What about making a protest?"

"I question whether it’s really okay to let this go. Our missionary didn’t harm anyone..."

Anyway.

"That’s enough."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"I too... deeply feel the responsibility. I will gladly accept whatever punishment the council decides, so please stop."

Missionary Richard, who had caused the problem, came to the council in person to dispel the controversy.

"If a stranger took your family members away by frightening them for reasons you never imagined, would you accept it willingly?"

"That’s..."

"Let’s not discuss this issue further. Let’s give Richard Peterson an appropriate punishment for the purpose of rehabilitation, and give him a chance to restore his clerical position after he has served his punishment. Now, let’s vote."

I firmly established that it was our fault to prevent unnecessary conflict.

And this isn’t just any issue—it’s about missionary work. It’s a matter that Christians believe to be the most noble act.

If we’re not careful, we could touch on a religiously hot potato, so it was right to handle it definitively like this rather than addressing it ambiguously.

It was our fault.

The missionary we sent committed rudeness and atrocities against them, so it’s right for us to apologize and resolve the issue on our side.

Because I strongly advocated for apology and responsibility, most council members also accepted my opinion and overwhelmingly outvoted the opposition. Most council members are also natives who haven’t been Christians for long.

After resolving the issue, what needed to be done was clear.

Guns, iron axes, cats, various jewels, glass ornaments, and so on... I loaded up on all the trade goods that natives typically prefer and boarded the ship again.

I have to take responsibility since we made a mistake.

After a month or two, I was able to reach the land of the Mohawk again. Actually, I wasn’t sure if I would be allowed to enter their territory, since Richard had apparently been causing trouble across quite a wide area...

"May we enter your territory for peaceful purposes..."

"G-good heavens! The Virginia tribe has returned... Ah, no, please come in."

"...Thank you."

The atmosphere was somehow strange.

No one stopped us. Warriors made way for us, and people opened doors when we tried to enter.

But once we actually entered the village?

"..."

"..."

"...Nemo?"

"Yes, Vicente. Speak."

"It feels like a tomb. I want to leave immediately."

The atmosphere was suffocating.

There was no one hostile to us. They just glanced at us, and if they were about to make eye contact, they would quickly avert their gaze and make way.

No one threatened us. If we approached to say something, everyone would slowly back away.

When we handed over our apologies and gifts, they would snatch them, mumble words of thanks, and step aside. Even the chiefs of each village seemed anxious, looking around, with an obvious desire to send me away.

Step.

This village we entered now was the same.

It was where Richard had been most active.

As we passed the palisade and entered the village, the roads were empty without a single person, just as deserted. Meanwhile, we could feel gazes, probably from people watching us from inside their homes.

Yet, strangely busy sounds could be heard from various places. We walked through this atmosphere, as if ghosts were moving about, toward a large house in the center of the village.

There, a wrinkled old man extinguished his tobacco and gestured toward us.

"...I heard news that you would come. Welcome... you."

He didn’t seem welcoming at all.

Not long after we started talking, the chief rose from his seat, coughing, and moved away, followed by his attendants and those who appeared to be shamans, all getting up and retreating together.

"It seems... they’ve emptied this house for us to use as our lodging."

Of course, it seemed more like they were fleeing, but we decided to accept it that way.

...

...

...

It was puzzling no matter how much I thought about it.

Last time, they weren’t this cautious.

It seemed excessive to be this wary just because Richard had caused trouble. If that were the case, they would have shown hostility toward us.

Why on earth are they acting like this...

Anyway, as we spread out our sleeping bags, lit fires, and prepared meals in various places.

Rustle.

Rustle.

Curious children glanced at us from a distance nearby.

They seemed curious after seeing our strange attire and hearing our foreign language.

When I gently offered the grapes I was holding, the children hesitated for a moment before approaching me.

The hesitant children began to converse among themselves in small, quick voices.

Dad said not to meet these people... It’s almost time for the ritual, and who knows what will happen! We just need to take this, eat it, and leave! What’s the problem! But... Dad said. These people will prevent us from holding our ritual...

What?

"Children."

When I opened my mouth, the children were startled and turned their attention to me. What would they hear? Probably a strange foreigner speaking their language perfectly.

"What are you talking about? A ritual..."

But as soon as I asked, the children fled in fear without even taking the grapes I had offered.

"..."

"Wh-what happened?"

"...Nothing. It’s nothing."

I shook my head at Vicente’s question and turned over thoughts in my mind.

Wait.

Thinking about it again, even when we surrounded Richard last time, it was strange.

According to the catalog, the number of warriors in the Iroquois Confederation, including the Mohawk tribe, doesn’t easily exceed tens of thousands.

But, they called thousands of warriors to besiege just dozens of people?

And they only surrounded them without directly attacking until I arrived?

"Vicente, how does their attitude seem to you?"

"Extremely rude."

"Not that. How was the look in their eyes when they saw us?"

"..."

"..."

"...They were afraid."

That could be.

But these people must have already met Europeans. Are they afraid of us just because we’re outsiders?

That can’t be all.

When I asked this to Vicente, he shrugged and said:

"That’s because they know we’re much stronger than they are, don’t they? If we were to fight them, they would certainly lose. So they’re avoiding a fight."

That too... could be.

But somehow I felt like that wasn’t the whole story.

When night fell and the group had gone to sleep, I still couldn’t shake off that uneasy feeling and went out for a walk. The village was completely quiet, as were the empty spaces nearby.

And when I looked around the area.

Rustle.

Something that looked like it had been burned and left behind. Upon closer inspection, it was a familiar shape.

"A signpost... maybe?"

’Do not make idols.’

Reading the words, I could tell who had erected it. Digging underneath, I found some wooden figures.

’Idols’ that had been broken, half-burned, and scorched.

It seemed Richard had destroyed and burned ’pagan idols’ here. I unknowingly pressed my forehead.

Why would he do such a thing...

...Huh?

Wait a moment.