Chapter 31: The Chief’s Verdict
The morning mist clung to the earth like a thick veil, and the camp was still hushed in the uneasy silence that had gripped it since Kimo’s capture. The air was cold, but the tension in the camp was far heavier than any chill the wind could carry. Kimo stood at the center of the gathering, bound to a sturdy post. His head was bowed, but his posture remained defiant, his mind a whirl of thoughts—none of them good.
He had always known that the balance between the settlers and his people, the Lenape, was fragile at best, but he had never imagined that it would come to this: his life weighed in the hands of strangers, with accusations he knew in his heart were false.
The night had been long. The cries of the murdered settlers still echoed in his ears, as did the accusations hurled at him by Edward, who had seen fit to declare him guilty without any proof. The blood on the knife was damning, but Kimo knew—knew with every fiber of his being—that it was a set-up. But how could he prove it?
Nia stood beside him, her presence the only source of comfort in this sea of hostility. Her eyes burned with a quiet intensity, refusing to believe the worst of him. She was determined to stand by him, even if it meant challenging her own father, the great Chief Tomak. But how could she? How could anyone defy the voice of the man who held her life—and the fate of the entire Lenape—so firmly in his grasp?
It was not long before the faint sound of many footsteps were heard pounding the frozen underbrush, breaking the stillness of the morning. The settlers stirred, some of them eyeing the horizon in uncertainty, others muttering in low tones. Word had spread that Chief Tomak himself was coming, though few believed it would truly happen.
But it was true. From the edge of the settlement, Chief Tomak appeared, nobally leading a small but formidable group of warriors. His tall frame was unmistakable, even from a distance. His presence seemed to part the very chilled fog that clung to the ground as he drew closer, a living embodiment of authority and power. His face, carved from years of leadership, betrayed no emotion, but his eyes—sharp, calculating—searched the camp as he approached.
Nia’s breath caught in her chest when she saw her father. Her heart pounded fiercely, a mix of fear and hope surging within her. She stepped forward to meet him, a part of her longing for the strength he had always provided, but another part of her bracing for the judgment she knew he would bring.
When Tomak dismounted, his gaze fell on Kimo. A tense silence spread like wildfire among the settlers. Kimo stood still, his wrists bound in thick rope, the weight of all their stares heavy upon him. The chief’s eyes hardened when they landed on his daughter, and he crossed the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps.
“Nia,” he spoke only in Lenape, his voice low but commanding. “You still stand by this man? After everything that has happened?”
Her voice was firm, though there was a tremble beneath the surface. “Yes, Father. I do. Kimo is not guilty of these crimes.”
The chief’s expression softened only momentarily as he looked at her, his daughter, the one person in the world who could still make him question his decisions. But then his eyes returned to Kimo, and the softness vanished.
“You are blind, Nia,” he said quietly, but there was a deep sadness in his voice. “You defend a man who has betrayed his own people. You want to believe in him because you love him. But that will not save him now.”
Nia’s chest tightened, but she did not look away from her father. “I know him better than anyone here. He didn’t kill those men.”
“Then who did?” Tomak asked, his voice sharp, his gaze now flicking toward the settlers, who were watching the exchange with barely concealed interest.
Before Nia could respond, Miwank, the translator, stepped forward. His eyes were narrowed, as if he had already weighed the situation, his mind working through the possibilities. “It was not Kimo,” Miwank said, his voice steady but full of conviction. “The men who were killed—their blood is on the hands of another. The settlers have not looked within their own ranks.”
A murmur spread through the gathered crowd of settlers, and Nia’s heart skipped. Miwank had spoken plainly, with an authority that only a man of his experience could command. But Chief Tomak was not so easily swayed.
“Enough of this nonsense,” the chief spat. “There is no ‘other.’ Kimo’s knife was found beside the bodies. The evidence is clear. He is guilty, and he will answer for it.”
“But Chief,” Levi Solomon spoke up, his voice rough but insistent, “the evidence is not as clear as you think. There are other possibilities here. We have been investigating this, and we believe that another man—one of the settlers—may be responsible.”
Tomak’s gaze turned to Levi, and for a brief moment, the tension was palpable. “You dare question my judgment, Solomon?” Miwank translated those words for Levi to understand. The Chief's anger needed no translation. Tomak’s voice was a growl, his patience wearing thin.
Levi stood his ground, his eyes steady. “I question truth, Chief. No your judgment. Murderer among us. May no be Kimo. Could be — how you say - another, who want Lenape destroyed.”
Nia held her breath. This was the moment, the one where everything could shift. Tomak’s gaze flicked to Levi and then to Thomas Lake, who had been silent until now.
“Is this true, Lake?” Tomak asked, his voice cold, as he waited for Miwank to issue his translation.
Thomas Lake cleared his throat before answering. “There is suspicion, yes. We don’t know for sure, but there’s a chance someone among us is trying to frame Kimo—or worse.”
The chief’s lips tightened as he glanced between the three men—Levi, Thomas, and Aertsen, who had not yet appeased him but whose eyes had not left Kimo’s bound form. Aertsen looked as though he were waiting for an answer to his own unspoken question: Who is the real enemy here?
The crowd was beginning to grow restless, and Tomak held up a hand for silence. Miwank immediately realized that his translations for the settlers must be precise or things might spiral out of control. “I will not allow my people to be blamed for these killings,” he said, his voice ringing out with finality. “The Lenape will answer only for their own deeds, not the deeds of others.”
“I want have trial,” Levi Solomon said suddenly, his voice cracking the tension. “Trial that follow laws. We will find truth, Chief. But we no rush this.”
Tomak looked at him, his expression unreadable. “A trial? Among settlers?” He sneered. “You think I will allow a white man’s law to govern us?”
“We must work together, Chief,” Thomas Lake interjected. “If we are to survive this, we need to find the truth—no matter where it leads.”
For a long moment, there was silence. Tomak’s gaze hardened, but he did not immediately refuse. Instead, he looked at Kimo again, his face darkening.
“I will take my people and leave,” Tomak said at last, “but I will not let this dishonor stand. Kimo must answer for what he has done.”
“No,” Nia said firmly, stepping between her father and Kimo. “No, Father. You can’t condemn him like this. You can’t.”
The chief’s eyes flashed with anger, and for a brief moment, Nia thought he might strike her. But instead, he spoke Lenape through gritted teeth. “I will not let my people suffer because of his reckless actions. If you choose to stand with him, Nia, you stand against your people. And you will be alone.”
The tension was unbearable, and Nia knew her father had spoken the truth. If she chose to side with Kimo, there would be no turning back. But she couldn’t give up on him—not now, not when she knew in her heart that he was innocent.
“Then I choose Kimo,” she said quietly, her voice steady with the weight of her choice.
Tomak’s face twisted with rage, but he said nothing further. With a final glance at his daughter, he turned away, his warriors following close behind him. The crowd parted silently as the chief and his men left the settlement, the weight of his departure settling heavily on everyone present.
As they watched the warriors disappear into the mist, Nia felt the crushing weight of the future press down on her. But in her heart, there was only one truth: she would fight for Kimo, no matter the cost.
