The Cry of the Wolf Chapter 28

Brebeuf had been busy the previous day making good on their promise to supply the tribe with rifles. Adelaide watched in dismay as they were taught how to use their heavy weapons which, once mastered, would leave death and destruction in their wake.

"Come," she motioned for Jaira to join her as they stepped out of the longhouse. "I want to introduce you to Brebeuf."

Maggie smiled, stepping up to Adelaide's other side, "Are you going to speak with him about..."

"Yes, I'm hoping he can spare a few moments to talk with us."

Jaira dragged her feet, reluctant to approach the Jesuit. How was it possible Adelaide was so friendly with him? How could she have fallen so far from grace within a few short months? It was a tragedy, that's what it was!

"Brebeuf" Adelaide smiled, clearly unaware of her siblings' thoughts,

"I'd like you to meet my sister, Jaira."

Maggie's eyes widened but she didn't say anything as the brunette was introduced.

The odds of sisters being captured months apart were rather unusual.

"It is good to meet you," he looked up with a lopsided smile. "As you can see, we are keeping our promise to equip the tribe with guns and ammunition."

He left out the part it had been purchased by confessions of faith, adding to the numbers in his reports back to France.

Whether genuine or by a bribe, the important thing was that souls were being added to the Kingdom of Heaven.

"I was thinking," Adelaide sidestepped the topic, "These people need to be taught the Scriptures and the basics of living the Christian life at the very least. We cannot lead them to Christ without them knowing how to follow our Saviour. After the murder of those poor men, I see it clearly now. This must be our mission..."

"You are right," Brebeuf nodded, "I have been thinking the same thing. The Iroquois are sure to retaliate after..." he glanced over at Jaira, "Well, we need to be prepared. I have sent a message to Quebec requesting they send some men to help us erect a fort. Once it is built, we can concentrate on teaching the children basic lessons and the adults as well. We can build a chapel and..." Brebeuf's eyes sparkled as he described his vision.

He had a point. Jaira was surprised these people were living without a fortification. It was a dangerous time. They either knew something she didn't or were complete fools.

"I was planning on speaking to Falcon about my plan. If I tell him the baby will be safer within fortified walls, I believe he will win the approval of the others. We need to start building before the first snow..."

Maggie carried the village's only baby. Brebeuf might be onto something.

"Sounds like a good plan," Adelaide nodded, glancing over at Chief Long Knife. She would wait until Brebeuf had spoken to Falcon before encouraging her husband to heed the priest's words.

****

Brebeuf played his cards well, choosing to speak with Falcon first and appeal to his fatherly instincts to protect the baby. The time would not be long before the child would be entering their world, so they needed to move quickly.

The slender priest gestured with his hands, "The fortress walls will be tall and will protect the tribe from their enemies. We can set up a small trading post so neighboring friendly tribes can trade their pelts as well." Brebeuf looked up into Falcon's eyes, appealing to the Wyandotte's gentle nature. "You will be able to help many other tribes and God Himself will bless you."

Falcon nodded, glancing over at Brown Sparrow. He was certain Chief Long Knife would agree. Armed with rifles and a fort, they would finally be able to live without fear.

Chief Long Knife wasn't as convinced. They would have to destroy a portion of the forest and the noise would draw attention to them. Why change the way things have been done? Yes, the French were their allies but... He didn't like the idea.

The Shaman wouldn't dare speak against their chief, but he would not sit back and watch as his tribe was destroyed either. Something needed to be done and they were running out of time.

****

Sweltering flames licked the sky, smoke curling in protest. The stench of searing flesh assailed those clustered around the gruesome spectacle, yet not a word was spoken.

Catherina's nails gouged into her palms as she gazed at the clouds, teeth clenched.

"Renounce your faith!" The priest clenched a crucifix with his gnarled hand, "End your misery. Repent! Turn from this heresy and spare your life..."

Catherina grit her teeth as the flames ravaged her modest skirt, the blazing heat ascending higher and higher. She wouldn't grant him the enjoyment of seeing her weep.

"Have mercy Lord," Catherina breathed, "In You do I put my trust. Let me not be ashamed..."

"What about your only child?" The priest attempted afresh, going for her emotional juggler, "Surely you don't want to leave your poor daughter an orphan..."

Catherina lowered her eyes searching the throng. Her only child, Gretjen, stood against her father, shielding her eyes from the nightmarish sight, as her slight body shook with heart-rending sobs.

"The Lord will be a father and mother to my child. He promises to wipe all tears from our eyes. No, I will never deny my Saviour."

"Then you are a fool," the wizened priest spat, stepping back into the horde.

Within three hours, all that survived were charred embers, the smoking remnants a haunting memory of the woman who had been murdered for her faith. The masses, rightfully terrified a similar fate could befall them, retreated to their own homes.

Gretjen gripped her father's hand, casting one final fleeting look over her shoulder. Even at her young age, it was obvious her mother would not be returning to their home.

"Your Mamma chose God over us," tears obstructed her father's voice, vulnerability betraying his strength.

"Why? Didn't she love me?"

"Of course Gretjen! Never for one moment doubt your Mama's love," suddenly at a loss for words he hesitated, "Her loyalties were to her Saviour. Come, Sweetheart, we must make the best of things and not draw any more attention to ourselves. Our neighbors will not soon forget this day and I fear, will look at us in suspicion. Let's be wise as serpents and harmless as doves."

"Yes, Father..." Gretjen nodded, gazing up at the thunderstorm-gray sky.

Rain began to speckle the ground. God's tears? Gretjen was certain God was mourning her mother's senseless death.