Blood Brothers in Louisbourg (11 page)

BOOK: Blood Brothers in Louisbourg
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Chapter Twenty

I
t was an old trick for sneaking up on seals and sea birds – a floating hollow log, which looked like any other floating log, yet concealed the head and shoulders of a hunter. From the knotholes in the log Two-feathers had a clear view as the bluecoats left their ship and rowed to shore in their wide-bottomed canoes. He had a good look at each man as he passed. Most looked happy to be returning but none of them was his father. Nothing about them seemed familiar to him. What could be familiar anyway in a man he had never seen before? He didn't know; he just believed he would recognize him.

Then he did. He saw him! He was one of the leaders, just as Two-feathers had expected. He knew it was his father right away, not so much by the look of him as by his movement, the way he carried himself. Something in the way he lifted things, the way his shoulders flexed, was instinctively familiar. Yet there was something about him that was unsettling. From his secret hiding place Two-feathers stared closely at the man who was his father as he climbed into the boat. He saw on his face the look of a defeated man, not a noble expression at all. It was disturbing to see.

He returned to the swamp and prepared to leave for the woods. The image of his father's face stayed in his mind and bothered him. Into his pack he placed his fire-making stones, deerskin tunic, incense he had pummelled from flower petals, and his bear-claw necklace. As a cold autumn wind swept across the swamp, Two-feathers headed into the woods. He was wearing his new wool garment.

He walked for two days until he found a pleasant clearing at the foot of a small hill where three deer were standing. The clearing was well hidden and protected from the wind. Far from their usual path, no parties would pass this way. He reconnoitered a wide circumference and collected birch bark and thin poplar trees and constructed a teepee. Though his favourite thing to do was to track animals and hunt, he also enjoyed constructing a camp as a spiritual retreat and invoking the spirits, because they almost always came when he asked them, in his dreams, and each time they came he felt richer. Praying to the spirits took Two-feathers away from the natural world and made him more deeply a part of it at the same time.

He took his time. The more relaxed he was the better. The spirits were always more inclined to keep company with someone who was in no hurry. When his teepee was completed he collected wood for the fire. He gathered stones and made a fire pit. He collected water and went hunting for rabbits, pigeon and partridge. As night dropped early in the woods, he settled in front of the fire, roasted his game and began to chant prayers of gratitude and joyfulness. He did indeed feel joyful. Within the year he had found his father, been led to his mother's resting place, and discovered a lovely girl. While it had not been easy, he felt that things were falling into place as they should. The time had come to ask the spirits some pointed questions.

As the smoke rose into the night and the incense turned the clearing into a holy place, Two-feathers looked up at the stars and began to chant. Firstly, he chanted thanks for all that had occurred in the past year. He thanked the spirits for answering his prayers so often and so readily. Then he explained that he was in search of answers to a few important questions.

For two nights Two-feathers slept without a single dream. He didn't understand. Had he done something wrong? Had he displeased the spirits? He couldn't imagine how. Then, on the third night he had a dream. He was chasing animals through the woods. There were fox, rabbits, partridge, muskrats and deer. There were owls too. They were fleeing from him frantically. Over a fallen log they went. Two-feathers stopped. “Please! I am not here to hunt you, I just wish to ask you some questions.”

The animals stopped. They raised their faces over the log, but Two-feathers couldn't see them. They were spirits. They were invisible. “Which questions?”

Two-feathers was pleased to hear them speak. “Can you tell me if the man I found is really my father?”

“Yes. He is your father.”

“Can you tell me … is he a noble warrior?”

“He is a warrior.”

“Is he noble?”

“In his own heart he is a noble warrior, as you are in yours. But you are not the same.”

“Will we ever be the same?”

“No.”

Two-feathers spent some time considering the answer before he continued.

“Great spirits, should I approach my father?”

There was no answer. He asked again. “Should I show myself to him?”

“Do you want to show yourself to him?”

“I don't know.”

“Then we cannot answer your question. Only you can answer your question.”

After taking a rest and thinking over the spirits' answers, Two-feathers continued. “Is my mother's spirit among you?”

The deer spoke and Two-feathers could almost see her face. “Yes, I am.”

“I want to ask if you approve of the girl I have chosen.”

“Do you love her?”

“Yes, I love her with all my heart.”

“Then I approve.”

“But can you tell me if she will be with me?”

“No, I cannot tell you that. You must ask her.”

“But we do not speak the same words.”

“You do not need words to ask.”

“Can you tell me, mother-spirit, if I will be happy?”

“My son. Sometimes you will be happy, and sometimes you will be sad. This is the way for everyone. You cannot change that. But you can learn to accept that, and then your sadness will lose its sting.”

Two-feathers dropped his head and nodded.

“I will try to accept this.”

When he woke, Two-feathers was pleased. He remained for another day at his retreat. Once the ground had become consecrated and the spirits had responded to his prayers, he felt reluctant to leave. Without a mother or father in his life, without siblings or friends, the spirit world had become his family and his friends. His retreats had become a kind of coming home. No longer was it the most important thing whether his father was a noble warrior or not. No longer was it necessary to learn more about him. His path did not have to be the same. His path would not be the same. This much the spirits had revealed.

But he could not stop thinking of the girl of the rainbow. She was as beautiful in living form as he imagined spirits to be in the next world. Besides, he had always been taught that a young man must be with a young woman so that their people would continue. And while it was true that they were from two different peoples, his mother's spirit had declared that love was enough to justify any bond. There was no doubting the conviction of his love. But he couldn't speak for her.

Returning to the swamp he skinned a rabbit, soaked it in seawater for the salt he was told bluecoats loved, then roasted it over the fire. He roasted wild garlic and apples too. He peeled the flesh from the bone, wrapped the entire meal in sea grass and fitted it into a small basket that he strapped to his back. Pulling on his woolen garment he went to see the girl of the rainbow.

Chapter Twenty-one

I
hadn't seen my ghost for some time and wondered if he had vanished with the season. The first snow was falling. Perhaps he had left for warmer places. Then, like the shadow of a shadow, I saw him. Like before, he came flying over the wall with magical speed. I thought how different he looked from the Mi'kmaq warriors I had seen on the way to Annapolis Royal. I couldn't say how exactly, except perhaps that they were standing around in the open forest, whereas he was secretive and always in motion, like an animal or a bird. The other Natives had no reason to hide. Why did he?

I couldn't stand still nor sit. It was too cold. There was not enough food in my belly to keep me warm. We returned from Annapolis Royal to discover insufficient food stores in the fortress. The soldiers were already under food rationing. It was so early in the season; I couldn't imagine how we would make it through the winter. Pacing back and forth, not for duty's sake but to keep warm, I watched him enter the fortress and drop into the courtyard below. But he took a different route than before. Curious, I turned and followed him a little. Something about him intrigued me so much. Why on earth would such a warrior climb over the fortress walls at night, in the winter too?

Inside the main courtyard he approached the Governor's house. I fully expected him to go around it, but that is not what he did. I watched for the longest time as he crouched low, just twenty feet or so from the entrance. He appeared to be wearing a jacket. I couldn't see it clearly. Then, when the guards went to meet their relief, he slipped into the house! I was shocked.

At first I was too caught up in the mystery of it all, too shocked by his invasion of the Governor's house to figure out what it might mean. Was he a thief? Was he robbing the Governor's house bit by bit? Somehow I didn't think so. He didn't look like a thief. All the same, now I felt that I must report him. As much as I admired him, my allegiance was to M. Anglaise and Celestine first, and he was invading their home.

But something was nagging me. I felt like I was missing a piece of the puzzle. And then it hit me like a stone. He wasn't going in to steal anything; he was going in to see Celestine! That was why she had asked the priest if Natives have souls. He was visiting her. They were friends. Or they were more than that. I felt a twist in my stomach. Why would she like
him
? Why would she like him more than
me
?

I didn't yell out to the guards. Perhaps I should have. It was my duty to protect the Governor's house. But something told me he was not a threat. All the same, I had to go in after him. At the very least I needed to know why he was going to see Celestine.

I raced down the rampart and dashed across the courtyard. I was trying to get to the door before the guards returned. To do that, I had to do the unthinkable – leave my musket on the ground. I couldn't run fast enough with a heavy musket. So I left it at the foot of the rampart and tore across the field. Fortunately, the guards were in no hurry to return. I slipped inside the door, went down the hall and stopped to catch my breath.

It was dark inside. The candles gave only a weak light and very little moonlight was coming in. I didn't see or hear him but strangely enough I thought I could smell him. It was the smell of roasted meat that I had smelled before from the swamp, and it was wonderful! My belly rumbled at the smell as I climbed the stairs and turned towards Celestine's room. It was strange to be coming here in the middle of the night. It seemed such a different place, like in a dream. It felt like we were two ghosts haunting a house.

The closer I got to the door of Celestine's room, the stronger the smell of roasted meat. He was bringing her food. That's why he was coming in. My curiosity was overwhelming. I approached her door and put my hand on the latch … suddenly, an arm came out of nowhere, slipped around me, pulled me up onto my toes, and I felt the blade of a very sharp knife settle against my throat. I was terrified. I didn't dare swallow, though I wanted to, and stood absolutely still. His arm was so strong it felt like it could easily break my neck. I would never have had a chance if I had to fight him. His breath brushed across my ear. Then his other hand reached around me, feeling for a weapon. Not finding one, he let me go. For a few seconds I did nothing. I just floated there, waiting. I was more than a little afraid. I stood absolutely still, then, very slowly turned my head … but there was no one there. He had disappeared, just like the ghost he was.

I knew I had to get out of the house and back to my post or I would be in serious trouble. I hurried down the stairs and over to the door. The guards had returned. I waited until they were facing the other way and bolted. But I didn't get far.

“Halt!” came the command.

I knew their muskets would be targeted on me so I stopped. Not only had I abandoned my post, I had abandoned my musket. That would bring me time in the dungeon for sure and probably a whipping. I shivered as I turned around. There, to my great fortune, was my friend Louis.

“Jacques! Heavens above, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be up on the King's bastion?”

“Um, yes, I am. I'm just about to get there …”

“Where's your musket? Oh my Lord, Jacques, you're not carrying your musket. Are you feeling suicidal?”

“No, I …”

“No! Don't tell me. I don't want to know. And coming out of the Governor's residence in the middle of the night …”

“Well, I can expl–”

“No! I don't want to know that neither. But I'll tell you this. The guard is on his way already, and if you don't want to get your hide whipped to within an inch of your life you'll get yourself up that rampart in a hurry.”

“I will! I will! I'm on my way already. Thanks, Louis. You're a lifesaver. I owe you a big favour.”

“I'll say you do. It's called a bottle of rum.”

“You bet!” I said. “A bottle of rum it is!”

I dashed across the field, picked up my musket and got into position just as the guard was coming up the other side of the rampart.

When I climbed into bed that night I couldn't stop thinking about it. That the Native and Celestine had formed a friendship seemed so unlikely, so unbelievable. How did they meet? Here he was bringing her food. But it had been at least half a year since I first saw him and this was the first time I'd noticed him carrying food. And she must have welcomed him, otherwise she would have done something about it already, I knew that. But why? What on earth could they possibly have in common?

Then I wondered about something else – my mother's pendant. Was it possible that Celestine had received it from him? But where would
he
have gotten it? Had he found it? That seemed unlikely. Had he stolen it? I doubted it. I had no reason to suspect he was a thief. Thieves don't carry food into houses at night.

I went to bed with these thoughts spinning around and around in my head. It was hard to sleep. I had too many questions and not enough answers. They continued into my dreams. There was one long dream in particular, in which I was in the Governor's house, only it was bigger. It seemed to go on forever. I was drifting from room to room and was aware that my father was somewhere in the house too, though I couldn't find him. The Native was there and he was hunting me. Yet I knew somehow that he wouldn't hurt me. Celestine was there but she wouldn't let me into her room. She was keeping a secret.

BOOK: Blood Brothers in Louisbourg
12.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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