She awoke and saw Charles, still blurred in her vision, continuing to carry her. All went fuzzy and then black.
Voices. Lots of them. She awoke and saw a crowd of blurry images all around her. They spoke in the same language that Charles and the Indian had spoken to each other earlier. A man dressed in what Virginia made out to be many feathers came up and stood before her and Charles. Charles stood still. He and the man with the wardrobe of feathers began to talk, neither in English. They conversed for a few minutes. Charles stopped talking and looked down into her eyes. He then continued talking to the man in feathers while not taking his eyes off her. When Charles finished speaking, he looked back up at the man. As if to ask a direct question, the man in feathers pointed to Virginia and talked to Charles. Charles answered with a single word. The man in feathers stood still for the longest time. Then, slowly, he walked over to her. Placing the palm of one of his hands on her forehead, he grabbed her right hand and placed it up against his heart.
"My Dear," he said in a deep, soothing voice, "it is an honor to have you in my tribe. We have been waiting for you for a long time."
The man in feathers took her from Charles's arms and cradled her in his own. He spoke to Charles some final words and then turned around, carrying Virginia off with him.
Virginia's eyes got bigger.
"No! No!" she cried as loud as she could muster. "No! Please! Charles!"
She felt a hand grab hers.
"I'm right here, Virginia!" said Charles. "I'm not leaving you."
"What's going on?"
"This is the Chief of the tribe. He is taking you into The Tent of Healing."
"What? What's going to happen?"
"Virginia, listen to me; I will not be allowed into the tent with you. You and the healers of the tribe will be the only ones in there."
"No! No, I want you with me!"
"Virginia, I will not abandon you. But you have to be brave. Okay? You have to be brave."
The faint images of the crowd surrounding Virginia began to shout and cry out in their native tongue. Tribal drums and tambourines played loudly. They ran and danced all around her. Virginia's heart began to race rapidly inside. Her eyes filled with tears.
"Please!" she cried. "Please, Charles, don't leave me here."
Charles's grip on her hand tightened. "I will not leave you here. You have my word."
The Chief approached the entrance of a burgundy tent. He stopped before entering and turned around to face Charles. He spoke a few words to him in the other language. Charles responded respectfully.
"Virginia," said Charles, "this is as far as I can go. I will have to let go for now, but I will not leave you. I will wait for you out here."
He squeezed her hand for one final time. "You have my word."
He let go of her hand.
The Chief turned around and went inside the tent.
"Charles!" cried out Virginia.
The tent flap closed behind the Chief, separating her from Charles.
She looked up at the Chief with tears in her eyes. "Please! Please, let him come in!"
The Chief did not respond but kept walking.
Virginia looked around the room with widened eyes. All around were women with doves resting on their shoulders like the ones on the muddy warriors. In front of her was a bed of straw on the ground with a red wool blanket resting on top and a white pillow at its head. The Chief knelt on one knee and carefully placed Virginia on the bed.
Fear rushed through her heart. She looked up at the Chief.
"Please," her tears began to flood down her cheeks, "what are you going to do to me?"
The Chief gently held Virginia's left hand in both of his hands and said in a soft voice, "My Dear, you are in safe care. Our tribe has waited for generations for you to return to us. I assure you that nothing but care and protection will come to you here in this village. The royal blood of Oralmuti is never to be dishonored in my tribe."
Fear slowly left Virginia's heart as her old curiosity filled her eyes. She looked deeply into the face of the old man. "What do you mean?"
The old Chief smiled. "Do not fear, Your Highness. You will be well cared for."
The Chief stood up and slowly backed out of the tent.
One of the women in the tent came and sat down where the Chief had knelt beside Virginia. She placed a cold, wet cloth upon Virginia's forehead.
"Fear not, Your Highness," she said. "You will be okay."
The woman closed her eyes and began to sing in a language Virginia did not know. All the women around her followed her in singing. Their languages sounded different yet united and angelic at the same time. They began to extend their hands toward Virginia. Gracefully, all the doves flew off their shoulders and landed at the foot of the bed. With their talons, they grabbed hold of the wool blanket that wrapped Virginia and began to flap their wings, uncovering her wounded leg. The voices of the women became louder yet more magnificent. Virginia watched as the doves stood on either side of her leg, six on either side of her wound. Each dove widely spread out its wings and lay down upon Virginia's hurt leg until they completely covered the wound like a blanket of feathers. The sound of the women became louder and more angelic than before.
Virginia's vision became blurrier. She looked up at the ceiling of the tent. The light of dawn bled through a small hole where several support beams met. With a lightheaded mind and an obscure vision, she stared at that light with the last ounce of strength left in her body before she closed her eyes and fell asleep.