Kings Pinnacle (45 page)

After the fighting was over
and the prisoners taken care of, the Overmountain Men had ridden
back over the Appalachian Mountains to their homes on the frontier.
Robert and Hugh had ridden with Alex to his new cabin on Gap Creek
that he and his brothers had built after the Raven had burned his
first one. They wanted to see him home after the Battle of Kings
Mountain and say hello to Martha.

“What are you two going to
do now?” asked Alex, standing in his cabin door with his arm around
Martha, looking up at Robert and Hugh, who were mounted on their
horses.

“Weel now, Robber and I plan
t’ soak in a hot springs near a sulfur deposit o’er the mountains
west o’ here,” said Hugh.

Robert smiled and
nodded.

* * * *

END OF BOOK 1

* * * *

Author’s End Note

I would like to apologize
to my readers for portraying Major Ferguson as a less than
honorable man of weak character. My depiction of him and any other
historical persons and events is fictional. By all accounts and
based on his letters, Major Ferguson was an honorable man and a
British officer of exceptional character. He was a small, thin,
wiry man with an elfin face who was considered to be cultured,
heroic, and gallant by all those who have written his biographies.
Witty and charming and endearing have also been used to describe
him. He was considered to be a genius and inventor without peer in
his day.

The Ferguson rifle that he
invented was at least fifty to seventy-five years ahead of its
time. If the British Army had widely adopted it when they first had
the chance, they might have easily won the American Revolution.
After a musket ball shattered Major Ferguson’s right elbow at the
Battle of Brandywine during the American Revolution and his right
arm became bent and impaired, he learned to write, shoot, and wield
a sword left handed. According to the history books, Major Ferguson
did in fact have an opportunity to fire a shot at an American
officer’s back while on a scouting expedition during the Battle of
Brandywine but declined to take the shot because it would insult
his honor. He was later told that the American officer that he had
in his sights might have been General George Washington. Whether it
was or not, Major Ferguson later wrote, “I am not sorry that I did
not know all the time who it was.”

He would probably never do
the most of the things that I ascribe to him in this fictional
story and for that, I sincerely apologize to him, his descendants
and my British Empire readers and lobster-friendly
sympathizers.

* * * *

About The Author

Robert Gourley’s first
published book was a technical college text book that was published
in the 1970s by Prentice Hall. This is his first work of fiction
and is loosely based on the life of his great, great, great
grandfather, Captain Thomas Gourley who was an Overmountain Man and
fought several battles in the north and in the south during the
Revolutionary War, including the Battle of Kings
Mountain.

Robert lives with his wife
of over 35 years, Nancy, in Frisco, Texas.

* * * *

If you enjoyed
reading
Kings Pinnacle – A March Hare
Novel, Book 1
, read on for an exciting
preview of the further adventure of Alex Mackenzie and his brothers
in the new novel,
The Last Reiver – A
March Hare Novel, Book 2
, available in
2014.

* * * *

Sir James

“
Let’s ride, I want to be
at Sir James’s estate near Rothbury by noon tomorrow,” said the
High Sheriff as his men mounted their horses.

And ride they did. They had
camped for the night just across the border in England and kept
watches on the prisoners during the night to prevent any escape
attempts. But the two prisoners were both tightly bound with ropes,
so there was no chance for them to escape without some kind of
miracle or outside assistance. There was neither help nor miracles.
It was raining when they arose and broke camp the next morning.
Just before noon, as the sheriff had requested, they rode into the
estates of retired General Sir James Murray.

“
Sir James, I have your
prisoners,” said the sheriff after he dismounted and shook hands
with Sir James Murray.

“I see that you do, Charles.
Did they give you any trouble?”

“No trouble at all; it was
the easiest favor I have ever done for you.”

“
Well I am indeed in your
debt anyway, Charles.”

“
I’ll be sure to collect
on it at the race track next Sunday.”

Sir James and Charles
Brandling walked over to the two prisoners, who were sitting on
horseback in the light rain with their hands tied behind their
backs.

“Pull them down out of the
saddle,” said the sheriff, and two of the sheriff’s men pulled the
two men down and threw them to the ground. “They are all yours, Sir
James.”

“
Thank you very much, High
Sheriff. Take Mackenzie, Armstrong and his wife and son out to the
Royal Oak tree in the pasture and hang them,” said Sir James to a
group of his groomsmen who were standing nearby.

After he spoke, he took another puff on
his long-stemmed pipe.

“Please, sir, ye promised me
that me family would live if I helped ye. I held up my end o’ the
bargain,” said Hobbie Armstrong as he sank down to his knees,
holding his hands up, pleading as if in prayer.

“That you did, Hobbie. You
and they did live while you helped me, but now there is nothing
more you can do for me, unless you can think of something. Now you
and your family must pay for your crimes. Your daughter will become
an indentured servant in my household. There’s no use hanging a
flower like that before she’s been plucked,” said Sir James with a
leering grin not well hidden by the pipe stem between his
teeth.

“You’re a liar and a cheat
and a dirty rotten bastard. Damn ye to hell.”

“
I may be all that but
you’re going to hang anyway, you red-headed idiot.”

The English oak tree was
named the Royal Oak in 1651 because King Charles II of England hid
inside the trunk of a rotted out oak tree after he was defeated by
the forces of Oliver Cromwell at the Battle of Worcester. This
allowed him to escape the wrath of the Roundheads during the
English Civil War. The Royal Oak tree in the pasture behind the
manor, near the edge of the forest, was almost twenty feet in
circumference and ninety feet tall. It was rumored to be over one
thousand years old. Over its life it had seen many events unfold
under its branches. But it had yet to see the brand of vigilante
justice that was now occurring beneath its spreading
boughs.

John Mackenzie and Hobbie
Armstrong were marched into the pasture, to the Royal Oak tree
where Hobbie’s wife Nelly Moss, his fourteen year old son Halbert,
who they called Hallie, Hallie’s twin sister Ginny, and two much
smaller children were waiting for them. Also waiting were also a
number of Sir James’s men, with four ropes knotted into nooses.
They intended to hang John Mackenzie, Hobbie Armstrong, Nelly Moss,
and Hallie Armstrong.

The rain had increased to a
steady downpour and occasional thunder was heard in the distance as
the approaching storm strengthened and moved from the west toward
the manor house and the pasture. When Hobbie was led up to his wife
and children, they all gather around him and hugged him, crying.
The day had gotten progressively darker as the thunderstorm
approached the group of people under the
Royal Oak tree. Hobbie dropped down to his knees and looked up at
Nelly.

“Nelly, I did me best, but
the old bastard’s word is nae good. He’s gang t’ hang
us.”

Hobbie’s wife, Nelly Moss,
was a small wizened-looking woman with her hair plastered to her
head by the steady rain. Nelly was actually much younger than she
looked, mostly as a result of living a hard, poor life with Hobbie.
She was shocked by Hobbie’s words. She’d had no inkling that she
and almost her entire family were going to die right then and
there.

In addition to being
Hobbie’s wife, Nelly was well renowned as a practitioner of the
dark arts all along the border. Her mother had dutifully taught her
the skills when she was a young girl, long before she married
Hobbie. So she instinctively reached up over her head and snapped
off a small limb about twelve inches long from a lower branch of
the Royal Oak tree. She quickly stripped most of the bark off it
and then ran a few steps away from Hobbie. Nelly leaped upon on a
large stone that was lying directly under some of the lower
branches of the Royal Oak tree.

Sir James’s men bolted to
chase her but she turned upon her stone perch and pointed her bare
oak wand at them, causing them to stop in their tracks. While
staring down at Sir James and his men with a steely gaze, she
slowly lifted her oak wand up to touch one of the large boughs of
the Royal Oak tree. Then, as the day darkened, she recited an
incantation while looking at Sir James.

“
O’ Mighty Oak of Ages
Past,”

“
Warder of the Woodlands
Vast,”

“
As the Light Brings ye
Life, o’ Tree,”

“
Impart thy Power into
Me.”

As Nelly finished the last
word of the incantation, a flashing bolt of lightning stuck the
upper branches of the Royal Oak with a tremendous, instantaneous
thunder clap. The impact of the lightning bolt stunned all the men
standing around and under the tree, causing them to flinch and
hunker down or dive to the ground. But the lightning bolt didn’t
faze Nelly. She stood rock solid still on her rock perch as if she
was expecting it. As the lightning charge travelled down the trunk
toward the ground, it also travelled out its lowest bough to
Nelly’s wand. Then, it traveled down the wand into Nelly,
electrifying her body and causing her hair to stand on end. Nelly
was a fierce sight with her wet hair standing straight away from
her head. But since she was standing on a rock and not in direct
contact with the ground, the lightning charge stayed in Nelly as if
it was waiting to dissipate, since it was insulated from the ground
by the rock.

As the men looked up at the
oak tree to see if the lightning had caused any damage or set the
tree aflame, a glimmer of St. Elmo’s fire appeared on the highest
branches of the tree. Then the St. Elmo’s fire slowly began to work
its way down the tree. Soon the entire tree was glowing with the
electrical charge of the St. Elmo’s fire. The violet glow slowly
traveled down the tree to Nelly’s bare wand. And finally, it
traveled down Nelly’s arm, making her entire body glow against the
darkened sky as she was consumed by the St. Elmo’s fire.

The glowing Nelly completed the
incantation with a blank stare.

“
Spirits of the Dark in
Lightning and Thunder,”

“
Let Sir James and All His
Kin be Torn Asunder.”

As soon as she uttered the
last word of the curse, Nelly Moss collapsed to the ground, lying
on her back beside the rock she had been standing on. The bare oak
wand fell out of her hand onto the ground. It had been blackened by
the lightning surge and accompanying St. Elmo’s fire. Sir James’s
men regained their composure and got to their feet. They walked
over to surround and look down on Nelly.

“
I think we should burn
her at the stake rather than hang her,” said the visibly shaken Sir
James brushing off his clothes.

“
That won’t be necessary,
Sir James, she’s already dead,” said one the men who was bending
over her body.

* * * *