Prophet

by Mark J Rose

  Matt was close enough now to see that the person sitting on the bench was Grace’s brother, William Taylor, the man who was responsible for introducing him to Richmond society. Matt waved as he approached. “Glad to see you, my friend,” Matt called. “I appreciate your coming to say goodbye.” Matt dismounted and tied Thunder to the railing outside the silversmith’s door.

  “I’m not here for you,” Will said with a wide grin on his face. He stood, pulled an apple out of his pocket, and held it out to the horse. “Only a cruel man would steal you away from your dog,” he said to the horse. He scratched Thunder’s head with both hands and watched with satisfaction until he finished the apple. “Grace claims I care not, but I’m going to miss this boy.”

  “We’ll be back,” Matt said.

  Will let go of the horse and turned to Matt. “How was Grace with your leaving?”

  “I’ll miss her,” Matt said simply. “You see my escort?”

  “They’ll arrive ere long,” Will replied. “They pass through every other Monday after sunrise and make a fair racket.” He reached into the leather bag on the bench and pulled out a large silver flask. “A gift of Irish whiskey from Graine’s father. He said to share it only with men of the first quality.” He handed the flask to Matt. “Mother give you victuals?”

  “Plenty,” Matt replied. He pointed at the large sack hanging from his saddle.

  Will laughed. “Fortunate that you have a large horse.”

  “Thank Mr. Martin for the whiskey,” Matt replied. “How’s Graine?”

  “We’ve discussed an engagement. I’d want you to have some role in the wedding.”

  Matt was flattered. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Graine expects you to return. She has some conviction you’ll win my sister’s hand. I haven’t the heart to tell her you have but two pence to rub together.”

  “For once, you’re wrong,” Matt said. “I’m a wealthy man.”

  “You got your price? Then your success is assured!”

  “Who knows?” Matt replied doubtfully.

  “Have you learned nothing in Virginia?”

  “I know what you’re going to say,” Matt said. “Trust in—”

  “Must I pound this into your skull?” Will said. He picked up his foot in a kicking motion to imitate Matt’s tae kwon do skills. Matt stepped away in mock defense. “Do you believe God rolled you under a bridge in Virginia for you to repair to Philadelphia and forget us?”

  “God rolled me under a bridge?”

  “How else would you end up there?”

  “You people always catch me at my worst.”

  “We see it upon your face,” Will proclaimed. “Know anything about grapes?”

  “I like wine,” Matt joked.

  “There’s a parable in the Gospels. After the grapes are harvested, you cut the vines back. They look as if they should never grow again, but they do. One year, I didn’t trim the vines, and you know what?”

  “Oh gee,” Matt said. “What?”

  “You jest, but we only had a third of the usual crop.”

  “So I’m being trimmed?”

  “I should think down to the stalk,” Will replied, chuckling. “There’ll be fruit…in the end.”

  “You can’t relate every life experience to plants.”

  Will put his palms up in a “What’re you going to do?” gesture. “We’re farmers, not Greek philosophers.”

  “Send me a note when you decide the wedding date,” Matt said. “I’ll want details on the clothes and the dances. Showing up to a party is never enough with you people.”

  Will nodded. “Take care of Thunder and return soon.” They shook hands one last time and Will grabbed his bag and walked across the street without looking back. Matt took his place on the bench to wait for the people who would take him to Philadelphia.

  2

  Zeke Wilkins

  The man hopped down and shook Matt’s hand, staring at Thunder. “Name’s Zeke Wilkins,” he said. “He’s a beauty. You interested in selling?”

  “He’s my only traveling companion,” Matt said, laughing. “Probably not.”

  “Never seen a finer animal.”

  “He’s a Taylor horse. One of the owners works there.” Matt pointed to the building across the street where Will worked as an accounting apprentice. “Tell him Matt Miller sent you, but be prepared to pay a fair price.”

  Zeke nodded as he looked over at the accountant’s office. “Mr. Berkley told me you’re traveling to Philadelphia,” he said after a moment. “Mail’s going as far as Wilmington. ’Tis two guineas to guarantee your passage.”

  The fact that they wouldn’t be going all the way to Philadelphia was news to Matt. “How far from Wilmington to Philadelphia?” He didn’t like the idea of traveling alone with all the gold he had in his bag.

  “Two days. Those aren’t dangerous roads.”

  “I’ll make it,” Matt said finally. He didn’t have any other option for going north, so he handed the man the two gold coins.

  “You’re responsible for your own meals and lodging. We’ve arrangements with inns along the road. We’ll only assure your safety if you hold the same lodgings.”

  “I’ll sleep where you’ve arranged,” Matt said.

  “You armed?” Zeke asked, scanning Matt’s body.

  “No,” Matt replied. He had his Walther in a side holster, but it was small enough to hide under his jacket.

  “I expect little trouble, but we’re armed to protect the mail. Leave it to my men.”

  “Fine by me,” Matt replied. “I’m an apothecary, not a soldier.”

  “An apothecary? That’s like a wizard, right?”

  “More like a businessman. Either way, I’ll let your men do the shooting.”

  “We expect to reach Fredericksburg early tomorrow.”

  Matt pulled the sack of food from his saddle and walked to the first of the three wagons. He nodded to one of the men driving and tucked the sack into a safe spot in the back corner. Before stepping away, he reached in for the three ripe pears Mary Taylor had packed, handed one to each of the drivers, and put the other in his pocket. Both men smiled and mouthed thanks. He turned around, untied Thunder, and mounted up. Zeke took a position at the head of the wagon train and waved his hand forward, and all the wagons started moving. One of the drivers directed Matt behind the second wagon, and Matt guided Thunder into the spot when the space opened. Four riders on horseback brought up the rear.

  They traveled quickly out of the city and then for almost an hour in a neat line until Zeke waved for the train to slow as they traversed a rough portion of road. Matt took care to ease Thunder around the deep ruts to avoid twisting a hoof. When they’d cleared the holes, Zeke rode back along the line and talked to everyone as they continued down the road. When he got to Matt, he said, “How goes it?”

  “Fine so far.”

  “You have water?”

  Matt pointed to the canteen attached to his saddle.

  “I can see that you’re not used to spending a full day in the saddle. Ride in the wagon if you become weary.” He pointed at the second wagon with his whole hand. “You can tie your horse on the back.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Matt said.

  “If you nod off and hurt yourself falling,” Zeke warned, “we have to leave you at the next town.”

  “I’ve got nothing to prove,” Matt replied. “If I get tired, I’ll go to the wagon.”

  Zeke nodded and rode off to talk to another driver. He lingered at the rear with the men on horseback until one was convinced to take his place at point. The man waved and smiled at Matt as he trotted past. When the rider made it to the head of the line, he raised his hand and the wagons started moving again.

  They rode for two more hours until they came into a clearing that overlooked a large shimmering lake where they stopped for lunch. They lined the wagons up in a row under the shade of some large oaks and the men began unharnessing the horses so they could gra
ze in the field between the camp and the water. Matt led Thunder down to the lake to drink and then let him join the horses that were happily grazing on fresh plants. Matt stood in solitude for a moment to watch ripples pop in the smooth, clear water as fish snatched insects from its surface. A few colored leaves had already gathered along the lake’s edge, and they rocked back and forth as the water lapped at the shore. The leaves reminded him of the fact that it was almost fall, and he confirmed this by breathing in the smell of autumn that floated on the cool midmorning air.

  Matt made his way back to the camp, grabbed bread and beef jerky from his sack, and sat next to one of the drivers on a stool that had been set out in front of the wagons. “I’m Matt Miller,” he said, extending his hand.

  “John Stewart,” the man whistled through missing front teeth. “You going to Philadelphia?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Whatcha got waitin’ there?”

  “Starting an apothecary business,” Matt replied. Matt had a degree in pharmaceutical chemistry and had done research for a big drug company in his own time. He knew how to synthesize a few different medicines that he thought colonial people would buy, and this was his plan for becoming wealthy enough to ask for the hand of a prominent Southern woman.

  “You a medicine man?” John asked.

  “I guess so,” Matt said, laughing. “I kinda like the sound of that.”

  John gave him a wide toothless grin.

  “You do this trip often?” Matt asked as he bit off a piece of jerky.

  “Every fortnight.” John pointed. “That’s my brother there. We make good money working for Zeke. He keeps us out of trouble so’s we can keep some of our money too.”

  “What kind of trouble do you get into out here?”

  “It’s when you’re in town that you kin spend all yer money on wrangling and drink,” John replied. “Zeke fines us if we get too wild.”

  “Seems pretty strict.”

  “Wakes us at sunrise,” John added, “so we gotta take quiet at a decent hour.”

  Despite the fact that Matt had very little in common with the man, he talked with him for the entire break. Like everyone in the colonies, John had an interesting story.

  “You ask a lot of questions, Mr. Miller,” John finally said.

  “You can call me Matt. Or medicine man, if you prefer.” He laughed.

  “’Twas only a jest,” John said. “Zeke says we’re to call passengers Mister or Ma’am.”

  “Fine by me, Mr. Stewart,” Matt said. He saw John smile again.

  “Mr. Stewart,” John repeated to himself. “Sounds like a gentleman.”

  **********

  Zeke whistled loudly to signal the end of the break. They picked up camp, gathered the horses, harnessed them, and took the trail in less than fifteen minutes. Matt’s butt was growing sore, but he still felt attentive and strong in the saddle. It helped that they took breaks almost every hour. The sun was low in the sky when they rode up to the crest of a hill that overlooked a large and swift-flowing stream. Zeke gave the signal to stop and the vehicles were moved into a half circle along the perimeter of the space where they would camp. Two men tied their horses and walked away to get firewood. Two others left with wooden buckets to fill with water, and another took a rifle to hunt. A gunshot rang through the valley and a small doe was soon rotating over the fire.

  As the men ate, they passed a bottle of rum and traded stories about Richmond. They told a side of the city that was less respectable than the version Matt had experienced during his time with the Taylors. “Jake just bought a horse near Richmond,” Zeke said to Matt. He pointed across the fire to a bearded man wearing a tattered leather hat.

  “Cost me a pretty penny too,” Jake replied. He looked uncomfortable being the center of attention.

  “Where’d you buy him?” Matt asked, hoping this wasn’t going to be a conversation about the Paynes.

  “Payne farm,” Jake said. “Cost me twenty-five pounds. Hard earned, that was.”

  “You paid twenty-five pounds for a horse?” another man said.

  “Been saving,” Jake replied. “’Bout time I had a fine animal.”

  Matt tried to stay silent, but the questions were screaming too loudly in his head. “They have many fine horses at the Payne farm?”

  “I thought you’d know,” Jake replied. “Man named Levi said he knew you.”

  Matt looked at him with some surprise. “I do know Levi. How’d my name come up?”

  Jake glanced at Zeke like he was in trouble. Zeke glared back. “What’d I do?” Jake asked. “He asked me about where I was ridin’.”

  “How’d my name come up?” Matt repeated.

  “Can’t remember exact,” Jake replied. He paused, trying to think. “I mentioned that we were taking a man north who was staying at another farm. He said your name like he was your fellow. He is, right?”

  “Was his nose still black?” Matt asked.

  “Mostly yellow, like he was healing from a fight,” Jake said. Matt nodded.

  “You had something to do with this?” Zeke asked.

  “He wanted to kill me.”

  Jake looked Matt up and down and said, “This Levi Payne was a big, strong-looking man.”

  “I held my own,” Matt said, smiling.

  Jake shook his head. “I meant nuthin’ by it. Acted like your fellow, he did.”

  “No hard feelings,” Matt replied. “I can’t imagine there’s a problem with him knowing about my journey.” Even so, Matt couldn’t keep himself from looking out over the valley for travelers. He caught himself. There’s no way Levi Payne has the time to follow me to Philadelphia.

  “I apologize, Mr. Miller,” Zeke said. “I’m unhappy with Jake’s want of discretion.”

  “It was an honest mistake,” Matt said. “I expect discretion, though, if we work together in the future.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Miller,” Jake replied. “I was a fool to mention your name.”

  **********

  Zeke roused them at sunrise. They wolfed down food, hitched the horses, and soon were moving along a well-traveled dirt road. Matt was in a thoughtful trance for most of the morning. Something about the rhythmic walk of his horse or the relative quiet of the surrounding woods enhanced his ability to explore the possibilities of his future in the colonies. This, combined with some dramatic views of the Virginia countryside, was enough to bring back the optimism that had eluded him since he had been forced to leave the woman he loved behind.

  When Matt wasn’t contemplating his future, he was talking quietly to Thunder, much like he had done with Scout, the Taylors’ dog on the farm in Richmond. Matt had shared a barn with the dog while he worked on the farm to help bring in the hay. Matt had never had much experience with animals growing up, but his time with Scout gave him a new perspective on the therapeutic benefits of having a live set of unjudging eyes staring back at you while you pondered your future.

  Matt felt some sense of déjà vu when they finally rode up to Fredericksburg, a Southern city situated on the Rappahannock River. The familiarity he felt was either because the city reminded him of Richmond or because he’d seen Fredericksburg in his dreams. The dreams came every night now and were growing too vivid and prophetic not to take notice of. He’d wake and try to remember information that he could correlate with future experiences, like seeing an oddly shaped tree or the velvet dress of a woman. Sometimes, though, his dreams would come rushing at him during the daytime and his mind would be saturated with indistinguishable pictures flashing like a high-speed camera. He’d have to consciously back away from the bursts to stay in the present. So far, he’d been able to force the visions out of his head, but he had a fear that they would someday overwhelm him.

  As they entered Fredericksburg, Zeke rode along the line of wagons, chatting to each driver. “This is where we sleep,” he said to Matt. “There’s a corral at Danner’s Inn. The horses and wagons will be under guard.”

  “Sounds
good,” Matt replied. He was anxious to walk on his own feet.

  “There’s a doctor we’ve used along the river,” Zeke said. “Name’s Hugh Mercer should you desire intercourse with another medical man.”

  “I’ll go say hello once my horse is settled.”

  By the time Matt took Thunder to the corral, Zeke was already talking to one of the attendants to arrange accommodations. He waved back at the wagons. Each of the vehicles pulled over to the front of the corral along the fence, and the men unhitched their horses and led them to the gate. A few of the animals trotted around the perimeter, happy to be free of their bonds. Others headed to the feeding trough to focus on the hay.

  “This is where you’re staying,” Matt said to Thunder. He led the horse over to the corral gate, pulled off his saddle and blanket, and removed the bridle from his mouth. He smacked his flank and the horse trotted happily to join the other animals. Matt lifted his saddle onto the wooden rack next the others, hung the blanket so it could air, placed the bridle on one of the hooks above, and then walked around to the front of the inn. He arranged for a room and then wandered tentatively out the door into the city of Fredericksburg.

  3

  Hugh Mercer

  Matt’s only memory of Fredericksburg from his history classes was that it had strategic importance during the Civil War. He knew nothing about the city during colonial times. The innkeeper gave him directions to find Dr. Hugh Mercer, who would hopefully have a better disposition than the last scientist type he’d met, a man in Richmond named Benjamin Scott. Scott had proven to be a disorganized lunatic and left Matt with a very bad impression of the state of apothecary in the eighteenth century.