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Sherman

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    A newbie in writing fiction, but a professional writer my whole life. An aspiring historical novelist, among other genres.

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  1. The opening pages of my book: February 26, 1643 At first she didn’t know why she awoke. Then she heard cries in the distance. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Her husband Hans still slept so she parted the drapes and crept out of their cozy cupboard bed. As she unlatched the top half of the door to peek out she heard gunshots. The night was pitch black, moonless and bitterly cold. Suddenly she heard Hans come up behind her and he wrapped his arms around her waist. She was still shy around him as a 16-year-old bride but she was glad for his warmth. “What is it Sara?” “Listen.” The gunshots started again, and after a few seconds, bloodcurdling screams. “That is coming from across the North River” Hans said. “How can you tell?” “I can hear it carry across the water – it sounds very different from the sounds of war up close. Believe me, I know.” Sara knew Hans had a terrible experience that caused him to flee his hometown in Germany with his younger brother Jochem, but he never spoke about it. “Jan Damen has finally done it,” Sara said. “Done what?” “He was plotting to massacre the natives who fled from the Mohawks for our protection. His stepdaughter Rachel told me about a dinner he had on Shrove Tuesday with Governor Kieft and her husband Secretary Van Tienhoven. Damen was encouraging them to seize this opportunity to inflict great harm on the natives.” “But these natives have done us no wrong.” “They don’t care. They wanted to avenge the murder of Claes Switz and see any native as good enough to do so.” “This is madness. We were sworn to protect them by treaty. And without native friends we will have no furs to trade and not enough food to get through the winter.” “Damen doesn’t care. He has always despised the natives. Since I was a little girl I saw how he mistreated them, especially the women.” “I know you never trusted him.” The screams started again, and they stood together in silent horror. Hans wrapped his arms closer around Sara, who was shivering. They had not yet been married one year and Hans treated her like a fragile flower. She was just 16, and he was 31. Before they married her grandmother Trintje, the colony’s midwife, asked to speak with him. She knew he was a surgeon and an educated man, so she was very frank. She told him that Sara had only just come into puberty and she feared an early pregnancy could be dangerous. She asked him to wait a full year before attempting to get her pregnant. He agreed. She added that it may help her grow in love for him if he was gentle with her, letting her come to him when she was ready. Sara felt the warmth and protection of this man, who she resisted marrying but was growing to care for more every day. He respected her intelligence, especially her skill with all the languages of the patients he treated. He managed in Dutch and his native German but couldn’t master her Norwegian or any of the many other languages of the colony. He was in awe of her ability with language, especially all the native languages. He realized that if she had been born male she would have certainly been recommended to go to the University at Leiden – she was obviously that intelligent. But here she was – his young wife – in the far-off colony of New Netherland. As the gunfire erupted again and more screams followed, Hans said “Let us go in Sara. There is nothing we can do tonight. In the morning I will go to the fort and see if I can help the wounded.” Sara replied “I wish I could have stopped him. I knew what he meant to do.” “Do not blame yourself. Come, let us get warm and rest. Tomorrow we will do our best.” As they crawled back into their cupboard bed and closed the drapes Sara could still hear those terrible sounds. She wanted to hold onto Hans but was afraid. He had always been careful to give her space and respected her privacy just as her grandmother said he would. She had told her that he would wait for her to come to him, and explained to her what would happen. It frightened her, and she did not feel ready. Hans touched her shoulder and said gently “You are still shivering; I can help keep you warm.” She snuggled a little closer and the sounds drifted further away as she fell asleep with his arm around her. February 27, 1643 As soon as he opened the door Sara knew something was very wrong. He was shaking and pale, and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead despite the extreme cold. “What is wrong husband?” “It is worse than I feared. Our soldiers captured some of their men and have them in the guardhouse.” “Are they injured?” “If they were not already, they will be soon. They are being tortured.” He sat down heavily and put his head in his hands. Sara had never seen him like this. “It is just like my hometown of Madgenburg when Jochem and I fled for our lives. Heads on spikes around the fort…” He choked out the last words and fell silent. Sara was frozen, wanting to comfort him but not knowing how. She moved closer and he pulled her to him. They sat together in silence as she felt him fighting back sobs. She realized she knew so little about him and his past. She asked - “What can we do?” “I fear nothing. The soldiers would not let me in to attend to the wounded. None of our men were harmed. It shows you that this was not a battle, but a one-sided massacre. I saw De Vries, who said that there were few survivors. Our soldiers shot some, and hacked others to death. He said they even tore babies away from their mothers and flung them into the river. They were so brutal that some natives thought they were the fierce Mohawk warriors they had fled from. “They killed women and children too?!” “Yes – it was horribly brutal – something out of my nightmares.” “Why didn’t someone stop them?” De Vries tried to talk Governor Kieft out of this madness at dinner last evening, but he failed. Kieft was proud to show him the soldiers massed and ready to attack. De Vries tried to impress upon him that these natives were innocent, but Kieft said if they would not turn over the murderer of Claes Switz he considered every native guilty.” “How could women and children be guilty! They have done nothing wrong!” Sara cried. Hans replied, “Sara my lovely innocent wife, you have no idea what men can do in war. I have seen horrors you cannot imagine. When the Catholic forces attacked my town they first killed those they could find, then hunted down the rest, burning the city to the ground in just one day. Those who survived were tortured, the women raped, and only a few fled for their lives. Jochem and I were lucky to escape, but we were powerless to save our parents.” “I am so sorry…” Sara was speechless. She had not known the horrors of war. Her childhood upriver had been peaceful and mostly idyllic. While she was playing with native children, Hans had been fleeing for his life.
  2. Disclaimer: I know there is not a lot of dialogue here. Perhaps when I'm further along in the novel (still early concept) I can solve that!
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