Find Out Who Bright Star (Careyago Asistock) Is.

Caryeago Asistock (Bright Star ) is a young Mohawk woman. She lives with her people on the Mohawks River in the easternmost village of her people.  She has only heard of the strange new people who live about a day's journey from her town. Soon, events will wrest her from all she knows and throw her among people so alien to her, that she would rather die than be among them.

Historical fiction at its best!

This is chapter one of a finished manuscript of the story of Bright Star. The story takes place in 1624 in what is now upstate NY and Quebec.. The Dutch have just built Fort Orange (what is now Albany, NY) on the banks of the Hudson River. Quebec was founded by Champlain more eighteen years earlier in 1608..

Bright Star rested for a moment. The task of hoeing weeds in the field of corn near her village was almost completed. A bead of sweat made a path down her forehead and perched on her eyebrow. She wiped the sweat  with the back of her had as she surveyed the results of the morning labor. The field was a typical Mohawk field consisting of corn, squash, beans and other crops. Originally it had been a very small part of the forest whose tall trees created a canopy of shade that prevented almost anything from growing. It had no easy job wresting the field from the forest. The men had killed the trees by cutting bands of bark away from the circumference of the trunks. Then with much labor the trees had been cleared, stumps leveled and the rocks cleared. Before planting the women used little wooden shovels to make piles of dirt almost two feet high throughout the field. They planted planted up to ten corn seeds in each hill, along with bean seeds. The bean plants now were beginning to wind their way up the corn stocks.

The field was an irregular pattern of the remnants of stumps, the mounds of dirt with corn and beans growing upward, contrasting with the broader leaves of squash and pumpkins vines that were beginning to shade the ground between the hills of corn.

Deep primeval forest surrounded the field on three sides. The fourth side of the field was bordered by second growth vegetation consisting of bushes and fast growing trees such as poplars. These were the forest’s first move in taking over an earlier field that had been abandoned by Bright Star’s people five years ago when its fertility had been exhausted.

Another drop of sweat dripped from Bright Star’s brow as she looked at the results of her hard morning’s work. She felt satisfied.

Despite her relaxed posture, her ears and eyes were constantly listening and looking for signals indicating that something may not be right. Bright Star and her companions never completely relaxed when they were outside the safety of the stockade that surrounded her town which was about a five minute walk from the field. She noticed her two nieces who were seven and five years of age. The two girls were across the field walking toward the tangle of bushes and brambles that bordered one side of the field.

“Be careful,” Bright Star yelled to the girls. “You will lose your way. The wolves may find and eat you.”

The girls hesitated, and then ran back to her. When they were within her reach, Mourning Dove, the older of the two said, “There are no wolves here; it’s too close to where we live.”

“Yes, you are right,” Bright Star replied. “It is only when the north wind howls during The Time of The Big Cold do the hungry bellies of the wolves’ drive them close to our dogs and our longhouses. But listen my nieces, there are many dangers lurking in the forest. There is always the chance that a bear has come to feast on the berries. Be careful and make sure the bear does not feast on you. Never forget for as long as you live that the forest holds perils that will snatch the spirit from your bodies. Always listen to the forest speak. It will warn you of danger.”

Bright Star smiled as her two nieces nodded their heads in agreement.

Then they saw a butterfly and ran off giggling as they chased it. Bright Star sighed as she watched them run. Then, she smiled as she looked over the field. The Three Sisters of corn, squash and beans were growing in harmony this year, with luck it would be a bountiful harvest.

Woman With Food, who was Bright Star’s older sister and mother of the two little girls, walked over to Bright Star. She was five years older than Bright Star and her hips were wider and her body fuller. Her face already had lines in it from the harsh elements. She looked at Bright Star and asked,“ Tell me sister, why do you look so happy today. I have not seen your lips smile or hear your voice sing with happiness for a long time.

“Sister, to tell the truth, I am glad Red Hands is gone with the other men to raid the Huron.” Bright Star replied.

“Why is that younger sister?” “Why does Red Hands cause sadness to fall upon my sister?”

“He wants me to be his wife,” Bright Star replied in a low voice.

“You should be pleased Red Hands wants you. He is wanted by many unattached women; and even some women who have husbands,” Woman With Food said.

“Don’t be envious my sister Bright Star warned, “Do not be fooled sister. Red Hands is not what he seems. Sometimes I wonder if he had something to do with the murder of my husband. I even have dreams that…….”

“Shame on you Bright Star! That is a bad thing for you to even think, let alone say. Why would Red Hands want to kill your husband?”

“My sister, I would not repeat such thoughts about Red Hands to anyone but you. Red Hands has always wanted to have me ever since he noticed I had become a woman. He is a powerful and cruel man who takes whatever he wants. He makes me feel worried. Have you noticed no men are my suitors? They fear that his jealousy would cause him to strike out at them.”

“Be satisfied the man most feared by our friends and our enemies desires you. He could have many who are younger than you,” Woman With Food replied.

“Next Budding Time will only be my 19^th year. That is not so old,” Bright Star replied. As she spoke she suddenly felt older than her years and depressed thinking about her infant daughter who had died from sickness last autumn. Then her husband had disappeared during the winter, never to be seen again. She resisted the sad thoughts, shrugged her shoulders, and glanced at her nieces.

“We are finished here,” Woman With Food said. She called, “Mourning Dove and Little Jay. The corn is tall. The beans grow strong and squash leaves are almost large enough to block out the weeds. Let us pick berries. I noticed they are ripe.”

Bright Star and Woman With Food led the little girls to the berry patch which was between the field and the river that was known as Mohawks river. The cooler air felt welcome to Bright Star’s hot skin, and the cool musty smell of dampness filled her nostrils. She placed a basket on the ground and dropped the berries she picked into it. She laughed as she looked down at Little Jay. The little girl who was five Big Colds old had rivulets of berry juice running from her mouth. She was eating the fruit as rapidly as it was dropped into the basket. .

"Come with me, Little Jay,” Bright Star said. "I know a place with bushes that have berries you can reach. You can pick them and eat all you want. Your sister can help your mother.”

As Bright Star talked she noticed Two Wolves was glancing shyly at her as he talked to some of the other men and boys. The boys had been hunting for rabbits. The older men accompanied the women and served as their protectors should they be raided by people who were unfriendly to the Mohawks.

She shifted her stride and posture as she walked past the group of men. She was self confident; she knew the men were staring at her. After all, she was an attractive woman. She also knew she did not have many years before childbirth, hard work and exposure to the harsh environment would age her.

Now, she thought was the time to have a man. I am young enough to still gain the attention of young men, but old enough to know how to satisfy my own pleasure and the desire of my man. Then she curled her lips in a smile as she thought that perhaps Two Wolves had the courage to take what Red Hands craved.

She knew Two Wolves wanted her. She had seen that look in his eyes. Her eyes were large, dark and sensual, as were her lips. Her smile was bright and made people immediately at ease.

She greeted the men and boys with smiles and cheerful hellos. Bright Star knew that Two Wolves would rather be with the group of men who left the village a few days ago to prey on the Hurons returning from trading with the French at Quebec. However, Two Wolves had twisted his ankle while playing lacrosse against the men of the neighboring Mohawk town to the west. The injury prevented him from going with the other raiders.

Bright Star turned her head and smiled at Two Wolves. It had been a long time since she had felt the energy of a man penetrate her. The memory of the last night she had felt the hardness of her husband caused a slight shiver to run down her spine.

Two Wolves fell in behind Bright Star and Little Jay as they walked past him. Bright Star was pleased Two Wolves took the opportunity to be with her. He was tall, strong and brave in war. As importantly, he spoke well and was liked among the people. He would be a good diplomat at the council fire that burned in the Iroquois heartland where the Onadagas lived. He could be a good husband.

"By now our men are probably to the big lake,” Two Wolves said.

Bright Star looked up at him and smiled a curious smile.

“Did Two Wolves say something?”

“Our men are probably to the big lake.”

“And you are here,” Bright Star said looking him in the eyes. “What brings you to this berry patch, mighty warrior?”

There was silence. Bright Star realized she had inadvertently embarrassed Two Wolves. He must think her question was mocking his bravery. Bright Star immediately attempted to salve her suitor’s wound pride.

“I know that Two Wolves would much rather be with the men who left the other morning. I am sad Two Wolves must stay behind. But I am glad you are here.”

“Why is it that when I speak to Bright Star, the tongue becomes thick and my words heavy?” Two Wolves asked.

Bright Star was surprised by his confession. She felt guilty for the way she had been teasing her admirer.

He continued, “You cast a spell on this one. Is there some enchantment among women that allow them to cast magic charms over men who are otherwise wise and strong beings? Is that why it is the clan mothers who select our leaders?”

“This one is but a simple woman with no charms but her body.”

Bright Star stood silently waiting, hoping that Two Wolves would take the hint she had given him. Then she noticed the silence. It was too silent, something was not right in the forest. The silence was abruptly interrupted by the calls of a blue jay and the whirring exploding sound of partridges taking flight from their hiding places. Then all was quiet again.

Two Wolves looked about nervously and whispered, “The forest is quiet, too quiet. No more little birds sing. Be careful. Something or somebody is lurking in the woods at the edge of the field.”

Bright Star looked in the direction from where the sound of the bolting partridge had boomed. The plant growth was so dense a predator or enemy could easily find cover. Bright Star grasped Little Jay’s hand. She attempted to stay calm as she continued to survey her surroundings. She noticed her sister and the other women were also concerned. They edged away from the place where the partridge had been flushed into flight.

She watched two of the old men rise and stretch; their eyes were scanning the nearby forest for sight or sound of intruders. Then she heard groans and cries of surprise spurred by pain. Two men and three boys were hit by arrows shot from the shelter of the quiet forest.

Suddenly Two Wolves had changed from a shy suitor to a warrior whom Bright Star depended upon for her life and the life of Little Jay.

Another salvo of arrows narrowly missed Two Wolves and Bright Star who ducked under the branches of the berry bushes using them as cover. Bright Star held Little Jay close to her with one hand. Her other hand held the flint-bladed knife she carried for domestic use. She watched as Two Wolves sprang up from his cover. He aimed and shot an arrow at a careless enemy who had stepped out into the open.

Bright Star watched the man fall. By the way he was dressed she recognized he was a Mohican. She was surprised to see these people were so bold to attack her town. It had been many years since they had the courage to raid a Mohawk community.

Two Wolves motioned for Bright Star to move away from where they were staying. Bright Star grabbed Little Jay’s hand and began to move in the opposite direction from the place where the Mohicans hid.

“Little Jay. Be quick,” she whispered. “Climb on my back and wrap your arms around me and hold tightly.”

When the girl’s arms and legs were securely wrapped around her, Bright Star rose and began to walk. She walked with caution ready to bolt in an instant towards the path that led to town.

The Mohicans yelled boastful shouts and gruesome threats from their hiding places in the forest. They were attempting to bolster their own courage and make Bright Star and the others panic. Their voices grew louder; she saw them appear at the edge of the woods where they had been hiding. This was the time to run.

She ran as she had never run before. Little Jay clung to her back, bouncing with each stride Bright Star took. Their path was blocked by two fallen trees. Bright Star lengthened her stride and pushed off with her foot easily clearing the first fallen tree. She landed and sprang to clear the second tree. Little Jay's weight shifted. The movement caused Bright Star to lurch to one side. She felt her left foot hit something and she began to fall. Her foot wedged in the fork of the tree she had attempted to clear. She landed face first to the ground. Her right leg was free, but her left leg was above the ground jammed in the crotch formed by a tree limb and the trunk of the fallen tree. She attempted to move her foot; she couldn’t. She felt as helpless as a trapped animal. Little Jay’s weight pressed against her, the girl’s arms and legs were still wrapped tightly around her.

She whispered, “Little Jay let go. Run to the path that leads to our village. Hide like the rabbit by its side in the bushes until the danger is past.”

The little girl released her grasp and stood. Bright Star saw her eyes were wide as she stood frozen with fear.

“Go quickly to the path and hide by its side. I will come for you when it is safe.”

Bright Star felt calm and detached as she watched Little Jay run to the path and search for a place to hide. Now she had a decision to make. She could attempt to release her foot or lie still. If she moved her foot the movement would cause the tree to shake. The noise might signal a Mohican where she was. If she stayed silent there was a chance she wouldn’t be noticed.

It was at that moment she saw him. His appearance caused cold fear to grip her bowels. As she watched she could see the man was intent in his pursuit. His face was fierce in its paint. The Mohican walked purposely as he looked down at the ground. There was no doubt about it; he was following her trail. The man stopped and looked around. He had heard something. Bright Star saw him look toward the direction Little Jay had run. The man shouted to his comrades and he began to walk towards the path.

She was desperate. Somehow she must do something or Little Jay would be a victim of this raid by the Mohicans. She must attract the Mohican and allow Little Jay the opportunity to escape. She reached for a dry stick. Then understanding what she was going to do could cost her life, Bright Star snapped the stick. The sound seemed to boom through the deadly silent forest. As she lay there she saw the Mohican look for the source of the noise. In an instant he saw her and began to move in her direction. Futilely she attempted to free her leg. Now the Mohican was running towards her, his war club raised. She tensed; there was nothing she could do to stop the onrushing Mohican. Unexpectedly, Two Wolves appeared by her side.

“Quick,” he whispered. “Let me push down on the tree. That will free your foot.”

As he spoke, he pushed down on the limb taking the pressure off Bright Star’s foot. She dislodged herself from her trap and stood. She didn’t panic and run. Instead she stood next to Two Wolves with her knife in her hand. She watched as Two Wolves took his bow, notched an arrow, pulled it back and released the bowstring. The arrow flew straight on course towards the oncoming Mohican, only to be deflected by the leafy branch of a tree. Bright Star felt her heart thump in her chest as she saw the arrow miss its target.

She held her knife to defend herself as the Mohican charged them with his war club raised. Before Two Wolves could draw another arrow the triumphant Mohican crashed into him. Bright Star heard the sickening crunch of the impact of the war club as the Mohican delivered a savage blow. Two Wolves crumpled lifelessly to the ground. Instinctively Bright Star grabbed the Mohicans’s shoulder to keep from falling from the impact of his collision. In a visceral reaction she plunged her knife into the man’s stomach.

The Mohican clutched his belly and looked into her eyes. She saw his expression change from triumph to a look of disbelief and then pain. He glanced down at the knife in his stomach. Bright Star pushed him away. She turned and ran as the Mohican fell to the ground.

Unencumbered by Little Jay Bright Star ran her fastest. She saw another Mohican pursuing her. With each stride he drew closer. He yelled in triumph as he lifted his war club. At the last moment she swerved to dodge its deadly force. The club struck her head with a glancing blow. She fell to the forest floor. She attempted to move her arms and legs and to stand. She couldn’t. She was stunned. She watched as the Mohican turned to help his companion. When he saw the condition of his comrade he shouted a cry of rage. Bright Star watched as the Mohican then walked to the body of Two Wolves and drew his knife.

Still stunned, Bright Star saw the head of Two Wolves come toward her. Confused, she wondered how Two Wolves had accomplished such magic. Why was his head bobbing in the air detached from his body?

Slowly she realized Two Wolves was no more. The man walking to her was holding the head of Two Wolves in one hand and a knife in his other hand. Bright Star stiffened as she felt the Mohican grab her long hair. She waited for the inevitable blow that would dispatch her. Instead, her assailant began to drag her by her hair.

After a short time the man stopped. He let go of her hair and dropped her face first to the ground. He kicked her. She turned her head and looked to see the man was gesturing for her to stand. He threatened her with his war club. Bright Star struggled to her feet. She knew that if her captor didn’t believe she could keep up with his retreat she would be killed. She was disoriented and dizzy as she tried to stand.

She stood in submission as the Mohican put a rope around her neck. He tugged at the rope and began trotting toward the river. It took all Bright Star’s concentration to keep pace with her captor. When they reached the river the man said something Bright Star didn’t understand; the impatient Mohican kicked her feet out from under her and she fell hitting her head on a rock. The world became black.

She sensed she was being carried. Then for a brief instant she was falling and landed not on the ground but on something that smelled of wood and water. The damp smell of the river filled her nose. She wondered where she was. She heard voices and raised her head and opened her eyes. For a brief instant she saw she was in a canoe. Then an unexpected blow from one of the Mohicans knocked her senseless.

She lay prone on the bottom of the canoe in a semi-conscious state . Visions filled her mind as clouds fill the sky. She was flying among the clouds. She was an eagle soaring over the forest. She felt the air lift her wings as she surveyed her domain. In the distance saw a stockaded town with many long houses. It was her town. She glided lower and lower until she was flying over the longhouse that was her home.

She saw the holes that were cut in the roof to provide light and air to enter and also a place for the smoke of the cooking fires to escape. She decided to fly through one of those holes. Her eyes stung from the smoke of a cooking fire that was wafting from the longhouse into the sky. The smoke burned her eyes. As she descended she changed into a white footed deer mouse and scampered among the goods that were stored under the beds that spanned the side of the partitioned room that was one of many rooms in the long house.

Her nose twitched as she smelled the aroma of cooking food. Her grandmother who had died many winters ago was sitting on one of the beds that spanned the side of the room. Bright Star listened as the old woman recounted the tradition of the founding of the Iroquois confederacy. She demonstrated the strength of the alliance by bundling sticks and attempting to break them. “Like these sticks our enemies can not break us as long as we, the Oneida, the Seneca, the Onondaga and the Cayuga stay together.”

The vision passed and all was black for an unknown time then Bright Star felt the chill of the cold wind from the north. Her teeth chattered as she shivered. It was the month of Enniska when the winds from the north blew and all waited for the long days. The cold wind blew her through a crack into the warmth of her longhouse. She saw the members of her family and clan gathered. Why can’t they see me she wondered?

“I am here,” she shouted, but no one heard or saw her.

She saw a little girl. It was her. She was listening to her mother relate the reason for her name. “It was the end of the Enniska wa, much lateness. We were waiting for Onerahtokha, the budding time. The buds on the trees were swelling. We were in the woods at the camp where the sweet water trees grow to gather their water. It was night. My belly was full of you and it was time for you to be. I found a place to be alone. Soon you came. I was tired but happy to have a daughter and was lying on my back looking at the sky. You were no older than a few heartbeats. You were warm on my body. You were suckling a breast for the first time when I looked up into the night sky.”

“What did you see?” the little Bright Star girl interrupted happily, already knowing the answer. “What did you see mother?”

“The brightest star ever; it was an omen, I named you Caryeago Asistock.

“What happened to the star, mother?”

“The Star became brighter and its light grew stronger. All who saw it and noticed it commented on it. Even after it had long disappeared people still talked about the star that was so bright.”

The mother hesitated, and then smiled.

“You are Caryeago Asistock. Many will see you and say good things about you. Your name will be known beyond our nation. You shall be a bright memory long after you are gone.”

The little girl, snug in her home, safe with her family and clan felt secure and important. She clapped her hands and laughed.

But something was terribly wrong. The little girl’s head throbbed, and she was stiff and couldn’t move or talk. The little girl wanted to scream. Someone was taking her from her home and family.

Bright Star was barely conscious. She grasped the Great Mystery had been kind to her. She realized she had been allowed to go one more time to see how it had been; how it would never be again.

Slowly Bright Star became more aware of the present. She felt the canoe move with the water. Sometimes it was light, sometimes it was dark. Long intervals of lying in the bottom of the canoe were interspersed with short periods on land portaging around rapids.

Again they stopped. She felt a hand grab her hair. She was dragged from the canoe up a trail. The sounds of barking dogs and laughing children filled her ears; the scent of fish drying in the sun filled her nose. She saw women working in a field. They turned and pointed to her and followed the procession led by the man dragging Bright Star.

She was dragged to the center of the village. A stockade enclosed this town. It was much like her town except there were no long houses. Instead, the homes were circular and made of thatched reeds laid over bent saplings. Each house was large enough for a single family to inhabit. It was a Mohican village.

She was dropped face down to the ground. She felt the force of a sharp kick to her side and heard laughter. She didn’t respond. She gathered an inner resolve and waited for whatever was to come. She was kicked again harder and again and again.

Bright Star ignored the kicks, wishing she was already in The Great Unknown. She heard voices and then the anguished moans of women. She intuitively understood the sounds were the cries from wives and mothers and daughters and sisters who were told their men would never come home.

She remembered when she had made those sounds. How terrible she had felt when Red Hands had informed her that her husband had fallen through the ice. How empty she had felt. How she had cut her hair, smeared her face with ashes and mourned over the loss of her husband.

She lay on her belly. Her breasts pressed against the ground. She heard the laughter of other women near her. Then, she felt something falling on her bare back. Instantly there was pain. It was as if a swarm of wasps was stinging her. The pain grew unbearable. She smelled the stench of flesh burning; it was her flesh. She rolled on her back. She wanted to writhe in pain on the ground. She looked up and saw the faces of laughing women. Little boys and girls no older than her nieces stood watching, pointing and amused at her discomfort.

She consumed all her strength in not yelling or screaming out in anguish. She was not going to show her enemies any sign of weakness and resigned herself to her fate. Bright Star was well aware of what awaited her. She had tormented prisoners at home. She had casually witnessed their torture. During those times she had felt no more remorse than if she had been watching wings pulled from a fly. She knew she would be kept alive for days, for even weeks while she was changed from a woman to a grotesque, maggot infested thing. Her tormentors would remove finger nails, and cut fingers and toes joint by joint, or cut off her breasts. Men and women would do whatever might come to their minds. When she became a barely discernible piece of breathing flesh she would be burned on a scaffold. Her charred remains to be thrown in the woods and eaten by dogs. She would become less than a thing. Bright Star would be a few bones lying on the forest floor, gnawed on by rodents and forgotten by all; her life brief and not very bright.

Bright Star watched warily as a woman knelt next to her. The woman held a knife. Bright Star tried not to show fear as the woman brought the blade of the knife to Bright Star’s wrists. She closed her eyes and waited to feel the knife sever her flesh.