Riverbreeze: Part 1 (15 page)

But here he was again, drunk, mean,
aggressive.

Jamie burst into the room then, too late, but
he grabbed Phillip from behind anyway. Phillip shrugged him off as
if he were a pesky fly. The children woke up
en
masse
, the younger one whimpering, the older girl, eyes wide
with shock, whispering, “Mama?”

“Stop, Phillip…” Maureen cried. “Oh do stop
being so unreasonable. We were only talking; I haven’t seen him in
a whole month.”

Phillip made a derisive noise, throwing her a
mean look. He was breathing hard, the liquor coursing through his
body eliminating any and all sanity from his brain. He grabbed
Maureen’s arm like a vise and growled, “You will come with me
now.”

But Robert wouldn’t let him take Maureen. He
made it to his feet, ignoring the pain in his ankle, and wiped the
blood that was running freely down the side of his face on his
sleeve. “I should just kill you now, you filthy bastard.” Robert
said, launching himself at the drunken lout in front of him.

“No!” Maureen cried out, stepping quickly out
of the way.

“Rob…” Jamie burst out, but it didn’t stop
the two men who had crashed to the floor with grunts and murderous
thoughts on their minds. They rolled and punched, wrestled and
scratched, bloodying and bruising each other’s faces. Robert knew
he had to keep Phillip on the floor, his leg couldn’t hold up to an
upright fight.

The children were wailing now, and Maureen,
knowing she couldn’t do anything about the two
children
on the floor, went quickly to the bed to try
to comfort them any way she could.

Jamie grabbed hold of the back of Robert’s
shirt to try to pull him off Phillip but Robert, in the process of
trying to dislodge Jamie, jerked his elbow back, catching Jamie in
the face, bloodying his nose and bringing tears to his eyes.

All of a sudden a gunshot shocked them all
into statues. The round, lead ball hit the ceiling with an
explosion of plaster, wood splinters and plaster dust.

Francis Tyler stood in the doorway with the
anxious little doctor beside him, providing support. Tyler looked
like an apparition, clad in nothing but his long loose nightshirt,
his face as pale as a ghost. His white nightshirt was spotted down
the front with nasty brown stains and one sleeve had a large,
rusty-colored stain on it. The doctor, his own clothes stained and
grungy-looking, looked like he was about to have a fit. He had
tried without success to prevent Tyler from getting out of bed and
he wasn’t having much luck convincing Tyler to return to bed
now.

Tyler was shaking from anger and illness, the
smoking pistol held loosely in one weak hand, the other gripping
the doorjamb. Then he let the pistol slip from his weak fingers and
it dropped like a rock, landing on the floor with a solid thud.
“You boys…” He said with a surprising amount of strength tinged
with disgust. “Do get up and get out of this house until you learn
to conduct yourselves as gentlemen. I will have none of this
despicable behavior in my home.” His voice weakened at the end as
if the disappointment of seeing his son-in-law and his adopted son
going at it sapped all the strength from him.

Several sets of footsteps sounded on the
staircase in response to the gunshot and Tyler was quick to call to
Jamie. But his voice was a weak whisper when he spoke. “Jamie,
hurry downstairs and reassure everyone that everything is in order
here. Then you’ll need to help Maureen with the children.”

“Yes, sir.” Jamie answered automatically, and
quit the room to meet the excited herd that was swiftly
approaching.

“I will help her.” Phillip said to his
father-in-law as he stood up slowly, brushing his brunette locks
back off his face and straightening his clothing. He swayed for an
instant, but caught himself, holding onto the bedstead. “They are
my children except the one.” He glared down at Robert then who was
still struggling to stand. “You take care of him. My wife has
enough to do.”

“Agreed.” Robert said, finally making it to
his feet. His whole body hurt now, not only his sore ankle but his
face, his head and his hands. Blood was still dripping down the
side of his face from the cut high on his cheekbone, and it felt
like his lip might have been split too, but he felt a measure of
satisfaction when he saw Phillip’s battered face. He was only sorry
he hadn’t been able to wring the bloody bastard’s neck.

With one boot still on and one bare foot,
Robert limped painfully to the side of the bed where Robin had been
sleeping peacefully just moments ago. Phillip moved aside to let
him pass and he picked up his little boy, who was staring at him
with frightened eyes. But at a few soothing words from Maureen and
a few from Robert, the boy allowed himself to be carried out of the
room and into the bedroom that Robert and Jamie had shared when
they were growing up.

Once there, away from everyone else, he let
out a sigh and lowered his aching body down on the homemade quilt,
bringing Robin with him. He held the boy for a few silent moments,
patting his back and murmuring endearments into his ear. It wasn’t
too long before Robin settled down again, his thumb in his mouth,
his cries slowing to hitching breaths.

Robert couldn’t believe what had just
happened. He closed his eyes and sighed. He knew that Phillip, when
drunk, had a tendency to become totally violent and unreasonable,
but he would never have believed that he would be the target of
that violence and unreasonableness. They had always been civil to
each other before, although they had never formed a close
friendship or a familial bond. Robert knew of Phillip’s unfortunate
background but that had never softened him enough to prompt him to
become buddies with the man.

Something must have happened during this last
month to make him so blindly jealous. He wanted to talk to Maureen
about it, but he feared he would have to stay away from her for the
time being as much to protect her as to protect himself. He didn’t
like it but he had no choice. He sighed again, took a look at his
scraped knuckles, then licked his split lip. “Welcome home, Rob.”
He whispered sarcastically to himself, letting his hand drop
tiredly to his side.

Chapter Four: The Bad and the Beautiful

A quarter of an hour later, Jamie and a
cleaned-up, but sore Robert, made their way downstairs, slowly and
clumsily, Robert’s one arm around Jamie’s shoulder, his other hand
holding his stick. Robert knew they would all be waiting like
vultures; after hearing the racket from upstairs and the gunshot,
they would all want to hear every gory detail of the fight.

While Robert had been resting on the bed and
before Jamie had come in to tend to his cuts, he had heard Phillip
and Maureen, along with their three children, descending the
stairs, the little one screaming, the two older ones silenced by a
few stern words from their father and then the barrage of questions
that had been peppered at them. But Phillip had been a man on a
mission and with extreme rudeness had ignored them all, shouldering
aside men and women alike as he firmly guided his family out the
front door and presumably, Robert thought at this point since he
could no longer hear their progress, off to their own home which
was only a five minute walk up the river. Robert had to hand it to
the man; despite being highly intoxicated and beaten bloody, he had
gotten out of there without a comment and then, presumably if he
could keep his children out of the way, still had enough stamina
and equilibrium to make love to his wife, or more truthfully,
Robert admitted to himself revising his previous thoughts, having
forced relations with his wife.
He will answer to
me one day, the lousy sot
!

The gentlemen had indeed been waiting,
although without bated breath, the time spent eating, gossiping,
gambling and most definitely, drinking. But they cheered
energetically enough when the boys made their way into the keeping
room.

The oak board table, laden with food and
drink, along with the benches and a few stools had all been pushed
against the walls, leaving the room clear for the mingling guests.
It was into this space that Robert and Jamie were immediately
steered, surrounded by the classless crowd of very drunken and
jovial men.

Robert recognized most of the citizens of
James City County, after all, he and Jamie had grown up here, had
gone to church with these people and had even visited many of their
plantations and farms with Francis Tyler, but since his move to
Charles City County, he hadn’t seen many of them for quite some
time. Now Robert associated with the citizens of that county: the
church, court sessions and militia meetings being much closer to
his home than the town of Jamestown.

Robert guessed there were thirty or so men
crammed into this 12 ft by 24 ft room. He recognized the honorable
Captain John West, still looking fit at 53, who had once been the
governor of the colony and was now the Muster General and Marshal.
West was standing with two well-dressed men Robert didn’t
recognize. Most likely they were new to the colony and had come at
West’s persuasion.

Then there were the Yeardley brothers,
Francis and Argoll, two men that Robert respected and felt he could
call friends. Argoll was just five years older than Robert, but he
was already a member of the Council and a justice of the peace. He
was also the one who had introduced Robert and Jamie to the Dutch
traders. Robert wasn’t surprised to see them standing with
Secretary Richard Kemp, a man of considerable means, and Ralph
Wormeley. All four men shared the same political views and business
ventures.

Towards the back of the crowd he saw a tight
little group of Councilmen; William Claiborne, Samuel Mathews,
Richard Bennett, George Menefie and William Pierce. Robert
stiffened a little when he saw them. These men were good friends
and business associates of Francis Tyler and it had been assumed
that the brothers would follow in Tyler’s footsteps, sharing the
same political views and business ventures. Robert felt the same
respect that he would always have for them and as with Menefie, he
wanted to remain on good terms with the lot of them. While Robert
didn’t have any political aspirations himself, he could still learn
much from them. They had all been in the colony for many years and
each had thriving plantations and controlled the trade with
England. Robert knew it would be foolish to alienate them, but by
associating with the Yeardley brothers, he feared he might have
already done that.

Not all the men in the room were prominent
figures in society though. The majority of them were small
landowners: 100, 200, 300 acres. Robert nodded to Edward Morth who
owned only 100 acres, then Henry Tompson who owned one hundred
fifty, and then there were Francis’ neighbors, Bennett Freeman and
William Beard. Edward Cole, a former yeoman in England and now a
middling planter, was among the men and next to him was John
Bishop, who was a member of the House of Burgesses. John Pawley and
Thomas Harrison had returned to the house with Jamie after settling
the horses in the stables and they were here now. Robert also
recognized Alex Brett and Anthony Browne, men who had been
indentured servants, now free and small planters. Thomas Warren was
also in the room, a drink in his hand, although his eyes were clear
and watchful. Robert reminded himself that he wanted to say a few
words to him, to offer condolences and whatever assistance that
might be needed. There were some new faces that he didn’t
recognize, men who must have arrived during the past three years
since he had moved away. He wondered if Jamie knew them, but that
really didn’t matter. There was no doubt in his mind that he would
soon be introduced to them.

And then Robert caught sight of Roger in the
far corner of the room talking with, surprisingly enough, Thomas
Rolfe, Powhatan’s grandson. Thomas was an exotic mixture of English
and Indian, but had grown up in England and lived his life as an
English gentleman. He was a constant curiosity in the colony, but
well-respected. Everyone knew the circumstances of his
extraordinary birth twenty-eight years ago; how his father, John
Rolfe had married the Indian Princess, Pocahontas, after she had
converted to Christianity and had changed her name to Rebecca. He
had been born in the colony but had traveled to England with his
parents when he was only about a year old. After his mother died in
England, his father left him with Sir Lewis Stuckley until his
father’s brother could take over his care. His father had always
intended to bring him back to the colony, but John Rolfe died
before that could happen. When Thomas was approaching the age of
twenty, William Pierce paid for his passage to Virginia and Thomas
settled on his father’s lands on the south side of the James River
opposite Jamestown. Having recently sold this land to Thomas
Warren, he now lived on the thousands of acres of land that he had
inherited from his grandfather, Powhatan. He was doing very well;
he was married to Jane Poythress and Robert wouldn’t be surprised
if a child was in their near future.