Forever Young Birth Of A Nation (14 page)

Within only four blocks of the Meeting House
they passed a silversmith shop bearing the sign ‘Revere’s Silver
Works’ over the entrance. Pausing there, Ian showed Moon Owl a
silver setting, telling her that his mother had one a lot like it.
About that time a gentleman came out the door, locking it and
hanging the ‘closed’ sign there. He turned and smiled, nodding to
Ian and Moon Owl. Ian stepped forward and put out his hand, “Adam
MacRae sir. I was just showing Miss Orleans here your fine work on
display. It reminds me of a setting that my mother in Scotland
has.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. MacRae, Miss
Orleans. I am Paul Revere and I own this shop.” Ian liked the man’s
demeanor and appearance. He looked to be a direct and honest
person, with regular features, warm brown eyes and straight black
hair. “I would like to chat, but I am expected at the South Meeting
House soon. I must be going. You should stop by sir. Good day.”
Tipping his hat to Moon Owl he said “Good day Miss Orleans.” She
smiled and curtseyed according to custom.

“Good day to you sir.” said Ian, tipping his
hat as well. Moon Owl giggled after he had departed and Ian looked
questioningly at her. “Monsieur Revere addressed me as if I was a
white woman.” She laughed again and Ian said “I am glad to see your
spirits lifted.”

“I am feeling better Ian. Whatever you gave
me started to make my insides feel warm back at the Inn and that
has not stopped since.” She was too embarrassed to say that she had
had a slight warm glow in her groin area since then. She took it to
mean that healing there had begun.

“That is a good sign, lassie. You will be
cured soon enough I am sure.”

“You have used this…. medicine before
then?”

“Yes, I have given it to children four times
and it saved their lives.” She stopped, causing him to turn to face
her. He merely raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“You and James are strange men, but you are
strange in a good way, Ian. I owe my life to you and I am
grateful.”

“Nonsense, lassie. I was once dying and
someone had mercy on me and they saved my life. Likewise for James.
Can we do any less for someone in need?” She never answered, but
stepped forward and put her arms around his waist and laid her head
upon his chest for a moment, eyes closed and said “Thank you,
Ian.”

He regarded her as they separated. She was
definitely a European-Indian mix, and quite pretty at that, with
dark eyes and wavy dark hair. She had gotten all of the best of
both races regarding her features. He noticed that her hair had red
highlights in the sunlight.
Likely a French father. She could
easily pass for Mediterranean French
he thought as they resumed
walking. As they walked, she took his arm and said “Ian, what is
‘lassie’?”

He explained as they came upon a dry goods
store that sold paper. After buying quill, ink and paper, he
described the area all around Marseille as they walked about the
town. Explaining to her that she must have some knowledge of France
in order to disarm any who might guess that she was a Native
American Indian. If asked she was to say that as a little girl she
had been brought to Quebec and only had dim recollections of
France.

“I want you to know that I am not ashamed to
be with you in public, Moon Owl. James and I are wanted by the
Crown and we cannot allow ourselves to be put in prison. That is a
matter of life or death, so this masquerade with you posing as a
woman of French nationality is necessary. One or two white men with
an Indian would be more likely to be talked about. That could be
dangerous. Besides, no one is looking for us in the company of a
pretty French lady like you.”

She flushed at that, and tightened her grip
on his arm, laughing. He had to admit that it was pleasant to walk
with a lady, arm in arm. He had missed that and excepting for a
brief walk with Rebecca Davis the night that they kissed, he had
not walked with a lady anywhere since Alandra had died

The Old South Meeting Hall was jammed with
people, mostly men. Soon a man by the name of John Jay took the
lectern and spoke at some length of liberty and independence from
Great Britain and what must be done to achieve that. Following him
were Benjamin Rush and after him James Madison, who introduced the
silversmith Paul Revere, reminding all present that he had ridden
to Concord to warn the minutemen of the British coming to
confiscate the armory there. Revere spoke, reminding all that
although the British regulars carried the day and ran off the
militia, the armory was saved and that enabled the fighting to go
on to this day. There was a resounding cheer at this as Ian and
Moon Owl turned to go to the entrance to meet James.

He was sitting in the wagon and was
surprised to see the two come out of the Meeting House. Ian related
what he had heard while inside as they drove back to the Raven’s
Nest Inn. He pondered all of that as time went on, and had to admit
that it was having an effect on him, regarding his feelings about
the war.

Rebecca answered the front door to find
Harold Grundy standing there. He was accompanied by two redcoats
who stood, one at each corner of her front stoop. Doffing his hat,
Grundy said “Good morning, Rebecca. May I come in?”

She curtseyed properly and said “Certainly,
Colonel Grundy. Whatever brings you here at this early hour? Father
has just departed less than an hour ago.”

“I have come to interview you concerning the
whereabouts of Ian McCloud and James Barrows.”

“I have heard already that they are gone
from New York, or presumed gone anyway. Father told me. What is it
that you think I can help you with?”

“I hoped that you being a loyal subject of
King George III would be forthcoming with information regarding his
whereabouts.”

“I know only what Papa has told me, and I
have not seen him since that day at Grover Park.”

She saw him flush slightly at the mention of
the day of the duel as he went on, saying “Did your father not tell
you that he is wanted for suspicion of sedition and remarks made
against His Majesty’s efforts in the colonies?”

“He did say that, but he doubted the
accuracy of that himself.”

“Why, we all heard him at the gala. Surely
you agree that he spoke treasonously against the crown.”

“’I do not, sir, and neither did Papa or
General Gage. I was there and I know exactly what he said, and so
do you.”

“Regarding Gage, he has resigned his
commission and has by now sailed for England. Regarding Mr.
McCloud, if he is not guilty, why has he fled and taken all of the
bank’s money as well? He is a seditionist, a coward, and a thief
Rebecca. You are blinded by your misplaced infatuation.”

“I see. Then you must have a formal and
official complaint signed by the bank owner, Mr. Milliken
himself?”

“Well, no.”

“I thought not. You merely added another
charge to an innocent man then, correct?”

“Now Rebecca, see here….”

“He is none of those things, Colonel Grundy
and you of all people know full well that he is certainly no
coward!”

She knew that she had hit the mark with that
reply as she saw his face become flushed with anger. “Very well,
Rebecca. Your hostile attitude will be noted in my report.”

“Really? Your report? Surely you are not
foolish enough to document your wasting of the Crown’s military
assets in a vengeful personal pursuit. I seriously doubt that
General Howe would endorse your efforts thus far sir.”

She knew that she had hit the mark once
again as his flush returned. He stood then and said “I can see that
this meeting will produce no fruit. Good day, Rebecca.”

“Goodbye, Colonel Grundy.”

As he departed, Rebecca found herself
shaking with rage and emotion. She was near to tears then and
returning to the parlor, she collapsed on the sofa and wept for a
bit.
Oh Ian! Where are you? Are you safe now?

***

Rocketing westward through the great North
American wilderness, Ian exulted in his power and speed,
anticipating each new sight over the next hill top. He had asked
for three days to roam the wilds after the three of them had rented
a small home to the west of Boston. It was now well into November
and snow had fallen several times. Of course it was simple for a
vampire to slip past the pickets at night.

Ian thought of the home they had been so
fortunate to find. It was a tenant’s house, and was snugly built
and easy to heat with two wood-burning stoves and a stone hearth
for cooking, complete with two iron swing-arms for kettles and
pots. James had learned of it while at the blacksmith’s shop in
Boston the previous week. There was a barn for their horses and
James had bought hay too, and had arranged for it to be delivered
to their barn. The house had four rooms and the three had settled
in nicely only three days before. Moon Owl had busied herself
setting the place in proper order and had not rested until it was
swept clean, the windows washed, and that all of the firewood she
could find had been stacked in a dry place. She could not
understand why two white men would help her do her chores.

Ian was amused at his recollections as he
suddenly caught the scent of deer. Slowing to a trot he followed
his nose, carefully scanning the brush on the ridge ahead. He
decided to use the long rifle being as he had brought it along
anyway. He eased it from his back and into position, scanning the
ridge ahead as he walked slowly. Finally sighting the buck, he shot
it through the head at some five hundred feet. In seconds he was at
the kill, and within three minutes he had filled all four of his
flasks. Using snow, he cleaned his copper catch bowl and stowed it
in his rucksack.

About then he heard the sound of footsteps
in the snow. It was quite distant, but he knew that someone was
approaching as quietly as they could. So he settled himself beneath
a snow-laden hemlock and waited, his kill now dragged under the
same cover. Presently he saw a fur-clad hunter approach, warily
looking about. The man had a long rifle slung on his shoulder, not
at the ready, so Ian felt sure that he was not hostile. “Good
afternoon, friend” he said as the man jerked in surprise at the
voice close behind him. Laughing then Ian continued “I did not mean
to startle you.”

“Damn it I almost jumped out of my boots!”
the stranger said, while laughing at himself. Ian stepped from
beneath the tree into plain view then, extending his hand with a
good-natured smile “Ian McCloud.”

The man took off his mitten from his right
hand “Darren Roberts, Ian. Pleased to make your acquaintance and
damned glad you are not a young Iroquois brave!” Both men laughed
then as they shook hands.

Ian said “Are you camped nearby?”

“We are some two miles to the west. Why
don’t you join us for tonight? That is unless you need that entire
carcass for yourself” he said as he gestured toward the dead buck
under the tree.

“Glad to, Mr. Roberts. No, I don’t need the
entire carcass. I did not expect to find anyone here in these
parts.”

“Of a truth Mr. McCloud, neither did I!”

“If you will carry my rifle, I will carry
this carcass.”

“Oh surely not, sir. Let’s cut a limb so we
can tie it on and we will share the load.”

Ian tossed his rifle to the man then, saying
“I have it. And please do call me Ian.” He stepped under the tree
and tossed the carcass across his back like it was a blanket and
looking at Roberts said “Lead the way, Mr. Roberts.”

Roberts shook his head and said “Please call
me Darren, Ian, and follow me then.”

***

The two entered the camp about sundown then.
Ian saw a company of some three hundred men or so, and striding
toward them was one of the biggest men he had ever seen. Ian
estimated the giant at some three hundred pounds and easily
standing six foot and two inches tall.

“Well Darren, who have you brought to dinner
this evening?”

Ian stepped forward then without dropping
the carcass as Darren introduced him, and then informed Ian that
the large man was Colonel Henry Knox. “Pleased to meet you
sir.”

“Not near as pleased as I am, Mr. McCloud.
Some of us will have venison this evening thanks to you.”

“No thanks needed sir. I did not need this
entire carcass.”

Looking closely at the kill, Knox nodded
curtly at Ian saying “Head shot. Well done, Mr. McCloud.”

“Please call me Ian sir. I prefer to kill
them this way. No suffering and no chasing them down either.”

“Quite so, Ian.” Turning then Colonel Knox
bellowed “if you men want to have a bit of extra meat this evening,
better get over here and clean this buck now!” Six men trotted
eagerly to relieve Ian of the burden, still across his
shoulders.

Looking about him he saw a large number of
carts and wagons loaded down with all manner of cannon and mortars.
There were some eighty yoke of oxen and those were being fed even
now from the contents of six wagons outfitted strictly for that
purpose.

Ian said “I heard that the continental army
had taken Ticonderoga. This is quite a haul, Colonel Knox.”

“We sorely need them. Such things are in
scarce supply among us.”

“Might these be bound for Boston sir?”

Knox smiled broadly and that turned into a
laugh as he said “You do not miss much, Ian.”

“Well sir, that is where the British navy is
now, and where else would the Continental Army need these
more?”

Ian spent the evening listening to the
officers talking then, resting easily near a fire, his only blanket
wrapped securely about his shoulders, reclining against a rotting
tree trunk. When asked what he was doing there, he spoke
truthfully, first telling them that he and a companion were wanted
by the British High Command for questioning because of disparaging
remarks he had made to some Tories concerning British policy in
America. He added, that he only wanted to see the frontier for
himself and had gone exploring, being an experienced hunter. When
asked about getting past the militia pickets, he laughed and
admitted that he had slipped past them at night. Otherwise he spoke
only when asked something and got a sense that these were a tough,
self-reliant group of men, and that they were determined to get
this artillery to Boston no doubt. He resolved to act as hunter for
them if they wanted.