To A Far Country

by Oliver, Marina

  ***

  Annie was recovering at last. Her cough was less painful, and she was able to take some of the work of caring for little Bella from her mother. She was still pale, but the long rest had made her less haggard, and there were no longer dark shadows under her eyes. Meg still resented her, suspecting her of wanting to be with Andrew, but as he had gone west with the army he was never there to create trouble between the two girls.

  Meg would enjoy helping Jane with the children, she reassured Flora.

  'But I do wish I could come with you too,' she sighed. 'We never see anyone new out here.'

  'There's Brendan's brother,' Flora told her, smiling. 'He's quite young, handsome, and he wants to rent that spare plot of land beyond Brendan's farm as soon as we're back.'

  'I don't want to marry a farmer,' Meg said thoughtfully. 'I'd prefer to live in a town. I may try to find a job in York. I'm almost twenty, and soon I'll be an old maid!'

  'I hadn't realised,' Flora said. 'Time has gone so quickly in some ways. But you'd do well to stop pining for Andrew. He's no good for you, and there are plenty of soldiers in York now, one of them might suit you.'

  She wondered whether to tell Meg of her suspicions. Thinking carefully about all the facts she was now sure Andrew had stolen her pearls on the boat. She'd been so distressed coming back from seeing the captain she could easily have put them down somewhere, not secreted them in the box. He might have seen them, and been tempted. Or he could have heard about them from a sailor who had seen her with them. If so, he could have searched her things at almost any time.

  Why, if that were so, had he kept them for so long? He could have sold them in Quebec and the money would have bought him a farm of his own, without having to rent one from Hamish. But that would have been suspicious. He might have said he won the money. Would Eliza have believed him?

  If he had sold them in Quebec, of course, it was possible Flora might have seen and recognised them there. But he could have stayed behind, sold them after they'd all left, and been perfectly safe from all suspicion.

  She gave up. She'd never really understood the workings of Andrew's mind. She had far better begin to plan what she would take to York.

  Three days later they set off. The first signs of spring were showing, leaves unfurling on the trees, flowers peeping from the grass. Jamie was less taciturn than usual, and Flora allowed a faint seed of hope to grow in her heart. Perhaps he had relented, and this was his way of showing it.

  That hope was shattered when they drew up outside a tall brick house.

  'Is this where we're staying? Not at an inn?' she asked, puzzled.

  'Yes. Sir George and Arabella have offered to put us up.'

  Flora swallowed hard. 'Arabella? I didn't know they were here. Why didn't you tell me?'

  He glanced down at her. 'I've got out of the way of telling you things, haven't I? It didn't seem important.'

  There was time for no more. The door was opening, and two men came down the steps. One went to the horse's head.

  'I'll take it round to the stables, sir,' he said, and Jamie, turning to help Flora down, nodded to him.

  The other man was taking their small valises into the house, and Arabella, in an apple green muslin gown which must, Flora thought waspishly, leave her frozen all over, was awaiting them in the doorway.

  'My dears, do come in! You must be so tired, jolting over these dreadful tracks in a waggon that size.'

  'It's not so very far, less than twenty miles,' Jamie said, but for the first time since he had found her with Andrew, Flora saw him smiling broadly.

  'Never mind, come in and rest. We're having a very simple meal tonight, just the four of us, and you can go to bed early and rest all day tomorrow ready for the evening.'

  Flora straightened her shoulders. She would not allow this woman to enchant her husband. Until now she had, she realised, been waiting passively in the hope that Jamie would turn back to her of his own accord. She had made few attempts to fight, to entice him, attract him, show him what he was doing to her. Then she shivered. He would not be won back by being made jealous. She wasn't sure what he felt for Andrew, but if he'd been jealous of the younger man it had made him angry with her too.

  There were some things she could do, however. She would not permit Arabella to dominate the conversation, to sparkle with fun and wit.

  It was harder than she expected. Arabella had so many stories to tell of the army, the campaign, the gallantry of the British troops, that Flora's accounts of life on the farm were tame by comparison. The only time she felt she really held Arabella's attention was when she told them how she had found the Indians.

  'Weren't you terrified?' Arabella asked, with a fastidious shudder. 'Of course, I know they've been of some use to us in the battles. They're good scouts, I believe, and they excel in attacking the Americans in the flank, harassing them. But I don't think I could ever trust one not to revert to their savage instincts.'

  'I don't think they have savage instincts,' Flora said sharply. 'They have a different way of life to us, that's all. It's probably no further away from us on the farm than our life now is from yours in a town.'

  Arabella smiled. 'I can see you're quite enchanted by them. They must have been good looking. We met Tecumseh – outlandish names they have – not long ago, and I loved the high cheekbones, and the short black hair. And he had the most delicious mouth, really sensuous lips. They pouted, you know, and I find that so attractive.'

  Sir George laughed. 'My dear, you're shocking Mrs Lennox. I'm sure she doesn't approve of a married woman speaking so admiringly of other men in front of her husband.'

  Arabella gave a tinkling laugh, and blew him a kiss. 'My sweet, I wouldn't praise other men unless I was certain I loved no one else but you!'

  Flora was thankful when she could plead tiredness and retire to bed. The reception the following day ought not, she told herself, to be such an ordeal. She would not have to remain with Arabella all the time.

  In the end she enjoyed herself. She found the attention of the soldiers flattering. The news from Europe was encouraging, since Napoleon had been defeated in Russia, and was losing a few other battles too.

  'We'll soon have him penned back, and then we can bring more troops here and teach the Americans a lesson,' they said to her in several different ways.

  They were to return home on the following day, and Flora breathed a sigh of relief as she sank into bed. Only a few more hours, and they could leave Arabella. She was woken early in the morning by an unusual state of activity downstairs.

  'What's happening?' Jamie said, sitting up in bed.

  At that moment there was a knock on the door, and a tousled Arabella, dressed in a very fetching robe, burst unceremoniously into the room.

  'Jamie, Flora! Oh, I do beg your pardon, but the most dreadful news! There's an American fleet approaching the harbour, and George insists I go inland immediately, with the other wives. They're organising transport now, but there isn't room for anyone else. I've ordered your waggon to be harnessed, and you must leave straight away! I'm so sorry, but I must go and pack as much as I can.'

  With that she was gone, and Jamie and Flora looked blankly at one another. Then Jamie sprang out of bed.

  'Come, let's dress and pack. Fortunately we haven't much.'

  Flora was out of bed and peering from the window. She could see, beyond further rooftops, towards the lake. Overhead the clouds were scudding along, and trees in the gardens were bending before the strong winds.

  'Flora!' Jamie urged, and she turned away to dress swiftly in a warm woollen gown and push her other clothes, the finery she had worn on the two previous evenings, into her valise. Her jewels, rolled into a square of linen, she pushed into a pocket that hung beneath her dress. She had vowed they would never again leave her person apart from when they were at home.

  The waggon was at the door, one of the servants holding the reins and looking anxiously round for them.

  'Wait, we need f
ood,' Flora said and ran into the dining room. She snatched a napkin and piled as many rolls as she could into it, tying the corners into a knot as she went outside.

  Jamie was seated on the waggon, and the servant helped her clamber in at the back. She almost fell as Jamie set the horse in motion, urging him to a trot as soon as his shoulders were put to the traces.

  The drove westwards, past the fort with the flag flying bravely, and could see the American ships on the lake.

  'That's odd,' Jamie commented, glancing to his left.

  'What is?'

  'They ought to be trying to bombard the town, but they're sailing away from it.'

  'The wind's blowing them away,' Flora said, catching at the ends of her shawl which were flying ahead of her.

  Soon they were forced to halt. In front of them soldiers were deployed across the road.

  'Best go back, sir,' one of the soldiers guarding the road said. 'We're expecting them to land somewhere about here. Go back to York, you'll be safer there than wandering round the country.'

  'He's right,' Jamie said, his shoulders drooping. 'We're too late to get past them. We can only hope the British prevent them from landing.'

  He turned the waggon, and drove them back more slowly. Flora sat inside, just behind him, trying to see what activity there was in the town as they approached once more. Every few minutes she went to look out at the back to see whether the landing had begun, but there was little to see.

  Eventually they were back at Arabella's house. They had no other place to go. Flora climbed down when Jamie stopped and went to the door. It opened as she touched it, and she breathed a sigh of relief. At least they could stay here until the invasion was repulsed and their way home was open once more.

  ***

  Rather belatedly they sat down to breakfast, once Flora had located the kitchen and made coffee.

  'The servants all seem to have fled,' she said as she placed the coffee on the table. 'Would you like me to cook some ham? There's plenty in the larder.'

  'No, rolls and that wild cherry preserve will be enough. I'm sorry, Flora.'

  'Why? You couldn't have known this was going to happen. I'm just worried about the children.'

  'The Americans are not likely to get as far as the farm. They'll be interested in destroying the fort and the guns here, that's all. And looting stores, perhaps. I doubt if they'll be interested in civilians. They won't kill us, or take us prisoner. There would be no point in that.'

  'No. Of course not,' Flora said. 'But if there's a battle, ought we to move away like Arabella's done?'

  'There's little point. She'll have had somewhere to go, the army will see to that. But we're probably safer here than anywhere else. We're some way from the fort, where I expect most of the fighting will be.'

  They waited, tense, watching people on the street outside, and trying to discover what was happening. Mostly rumours, Flora decided after she'd heard all sorts of strange tales about monstrous guns on ships ten times as big as the ones she'd seen, and thousands of Americans pouring ashore a few miles further up the lake.

  Eventually, a few wounded soldiers began to straggle into the town, and they heard news they could believe. It was far from encouraging.

  'They landed up past Grenadier Pond,' one soldier clutching a roughly bandaged arm said as he walked past.

  'Come in and let me bathe that wound,' Flora instructed, and he smiled wearily at her.

  'There were too few of us,' he said as he sat in Arabella's kitchen and watched Flora clean the wound, a deep graze caused by a bullet. To her relief the bullet had not lodged in the arm. She didn't think she could have faced digging one out. 'We had just a few regulars and some Indians. Half an hour, we held them up, at most. Then we had orders to fall back. There was no point in us all being killed for nothing.'

  His words were drowned in a sudden horrendous noise, a crackling and thundering such as she'd never heard before.

  'What's that?' Flora asked, startled.

  'Something's been blown up,' the soldier said laconically. 'I hope our troops are well away.'

  Flora finished tying the bandage, and he thanked her. 'I must try and rejoin the men,' he said as he went out into the street.

  For an hour there was an eerie silence. They stayed by the front window, watching. A few men, soldiers in tattered uniforms, and a few Indians, went past. Suddenly Flora clutched Jamie's arm.

  'That's Atonsa,' she exclaimed. 'He's hurt, he's limping.'

  'Are you sure?'

  'Yes. Let's call him in.'

  Without waiting for him Flora went to open the front door and called to the man across the street.

  'Atonsa! Over here. It's Flora Lennox.'

  He glanced across, and then a big smile came as he recognised her, and he changed direction.

  'What's happened?' Flora asked as she drew him inside and shut the door. 'Are you hurt? Do you need medicine?'

  `He shook his head. 'Is nothing. Few scratches from flying metal,' he explained. 'They not even bleed.'

  'But I'll wash them all the same,' Flora said firmly.

  Meekly he allowed her to guide him to the kitchen, and deal with what were in fact little more than minor grazes.

  'Were you with the soldiers facing the invaders?'

  'Yes, but they many more. I think wind blew ships too far. Foolish place to land. But we do little to delay them. We retreating, back to town. Guns and powder blew up. Many people killed. I fortunate, further away.'

  'Where's Tier?' Flora asked hesitantly.

  Atonsa grinned at her, showing his brilliant teeth. 'He near Lake Erie.'

  At that moment there was a tremendous boom, followed almost immediately by others, and Flora instinctively ducked.

  'Now what?' she demanded.

  'Guns. The guns from the ships, I expect,' Jamie said. 'I think if it were the fort they'd be nearer.'

  They waited, persuading Atonsa to stay with them. After some time they saw soldiers marching away from the fort, obviously leaving the town, and Atonsa slipped outside to speak to them.

  'They ordered retreat Kingston,' he said when he returned.

  'So the Americans will soon be in the town. Will they permit us to go home?' Flora asked.

  'We must wait and see.'

  For some time they waited, but nothing more seemed to be happening. Atonsa went out every half hour or so to try and discover what he could.

  'British flag still flying on fort,' he reported after one of these sorties. 'Yet all soldiers gone.'

  'Do the Americans know this?'

  As she spoke there was a tremendous explosion, much louder than before. They stood, bewildered, watching small pieces of debris falling from the sky into the street.

  'That from direction of fort,' Atonsa said quietly. 'Perhaps magazine blow up.'

  For another long time there was little to see, but then, cheering and shouting, a stream of American soldiers poured into the town.

  Working hastily they barricaded themselves into the house. Thank goodness there is plenty of food, Flora thought as she worked. She had never imagined being in a siege, but if it were forced on her she did not wish to be hungry.

  For six days they remained in the house, apart from when Jamie saw to their horse. Atonsa ventured out on several occasions, and came back to report that the prisoners in the town jail had been released and both they and the soldiers were looting shops and stores. Then, on the sixth day, they saw smoke rising, and Atonsa hurriedly went to find out what it was.

  'It's Parliament building,' he said when he returned. 'But we safe unless they burn everything. They set fire to new ship, Isaac Brock.'

  'The one named after the commander who died at Queenston Heights?' Jamie asked.

  Atonsa nodded. 'Great loss to British. Americans more and better ships on lake. But they moving away. Soon you able go home.'

  ***

  Chapter 16

  At last, on the sixth day, the Americans left York and the ships sailed southwar
ds across the lake. When the townsfolk were sure they had gone they came to look at the ruins of the fort. Debris, some of it huge rocks, lay all around, and they heard that many of the soldiers, including an American general, had been killed when the magazine blew up.

  Flora was silent as they drove out of the town. This, wanton death and destruction, was the result of war. She prayed for her children, her friends they'd left on the farms, Malcolm who was involved in similar battles, probably somewhere in Spain, and all the men involved in the fighting.

  Atonsa had elected to come with them. 'I go find Tier,' he said calmly. 'I cannot follow army. Too far from my tribe. We can fight in west, where fewer soldiers and longer frontier.'

  The first hint of trouble came when they left the main track and turned down the side one leading through their own land.

  Jamie hauled on the reins and stopped the waggon. He hitched the reins and swung himself to the ground.

  'Flora, stay here,' he ordered.

  She had been looking out of the back to try and catch a glimpse of the other cabins, set back from the track. She was anxious to get to her children as soon as possible.

  'What is it?' she demanded, coming swiftly to the front and looking out. Before he could reply she saw one of the mares, grazing on the new grass in the middle of what was intended as one of their hayfields. A few yards further off another horse, one of the yearling fillies, she thought, was standing with head raised, looking towards the waggon.

  Jamie walked quietly forwards. Flora waited, careful not to frighten or disturb them. She could see now that neither wore the light headcollars Jamie always insisted were left on. Had Brendan's brother disobeyed him, and more importantly, let them escape?

  The mare was nervous. As soon as she saw Jamie she lifted her head, and then moved away. When he halted she did not stop, but began to trot clumsily towards the forest. The yearling, kicking up her heels, took off at a gallop and was soon invisible amongst the trees. Jamie waited, and after a while the mare stopped, but she stood poised to flee at his slightest movement.

  'I go behind her, she not catch my scent,' Atonsa said quietly, and slid out of the back. Flora opened her mouth to protest, but he had vanished. Search the surroundings as much as she could, she saw no sign, no movement of the bushes or the grass.