Speak, o, friend, Jamie said in Gaelic, looking resigned. She will have been seeing more dreadful things than you have, by far.
I nodded at this, forking up another bite of egg, and the Major coughed.
Aye. Well, saving your presence, mumI happened to find myself in a, er, establishment in Edenton .
A brothel? I put in. Yes, quite. Do go on, Major.
He did, rather hurriedly, his face flushing dark beneath his wig.
Ah to be sure. Well, dye see, twas one of the, er, lasses in the place, told me as shed been stolen from her home by outlaws who set upon the place one day without warning. Shed no but an auld grannie she lived with, and said theyd kilt the auld woman, and burned the house above her head.
And who did she say had done it? Jamie had turned his stool to face the hearth, and was melting lead scrap in a ladle for the bullet mold.
Ah, mmphm. MacDonalds flush deepened, and the smoke fumed from his pipe with such ferocity that I could barely make out his features through the curling wreaths.
It transpired, with much coughing and circumlocution, that the Major had not really believed the girl at the timeor had been too interested in availing himself of her charms to pay much attention. Putting the story down simply as one of the tales whores often told to elicit sympathy and the odd extra glass of geneva, he had not bothered to ask for further detail.
But when I heard by chance later of the other burnings well, dye see, Ive had the luck to be charged by the Governor with keeping an ear to the ground, as it were, in the backcountry,
for signs of unrest. And I began to think that this particular instance of unrest was maybe not just sae much of a coincidence as might at first appear.
Jamie and I exchanged glances at that, Jamies tinged with amusement, mine with resignation. Hed bet me that MacDonalda half-pay cavalry officer who survived by freelancingwould not only survive Governor Tryons resignation, but would succeed in worming his way promptly into some position with the new regime, now that Tryon had left to take up a superior position as governor of New York. Hes a gentleman o fortune, our Donald, hed said.
The militant smell of hot lead began to permeate the room, competing with the Majors pipe smoke, and quite overpowering the pleasantly domestic atmosphere of rising bread, cooking, dried herbs, scouring rushes, and lye soap that normally filled the kitchen.
Lead melts suddenly; one instant, a deformed bullet or a bent button sits in the ladle, whole and distinct; the next, its gone, a tiny puddle of metal shimmering dully in its place. Jamie poured the molten lead carefully into the mold, averting his face from the fumes.
Why Indians?
Ah. Well, twas what the whore in Edenton said. She said some of those who burned her house and stole her away were Indians. But as I say, at the time I paid her story little mind.
Jamie made a Scottish noise indicating that he took the point, but with skepticism.
And when did ye meet this lassie, Donald, and hear her story?
Near Christmas. The Major poked at the bowl of his pipe with a stained forefinger, not looking up. Ye mean when was her house attacked? She didna say, but I think perhaps not too long before. She was still fairly, er, fresh. He coughed, caught my eye, caught his breath, and coughed again, hard, going red in the face.
Jamies mouth pressed tight, and he looked down, flipping open the mold to drop a new-made ball onto the hearth.
I put down my fork, the remnants of appetite vanished.
How? I demanded. How did this young woman come to be in the brothel?
Why, they sold her, mum. The flush still stained MacDonalds cheeks, but he had recovered his countenance enough to look at me. The brigands. They sold her to a river trader, she said, a few days after theyd stolen her. He kept her for a bit, on his boat, but then a man came one night to do business, took a fancy to her, and bought her. He brought her as far as the coast, but I suppose hed tired of her by then . His words trailed off, and he stuck the pipe back into his mouth, drawing hard.
I see. I did, and the half of the omelette Id eaten lay in a small hard ball in the bottom of my stomach.
Still fairly fresh. How long did it take, I wondered? How long would a woman last, passed from hand to casual hand, from the splintered planks of a riverboats deck to the tattered mattress of a hired room, given only what would keep her alive? It was more than possible that the brothel in Edenton had seemed a haven of sorts by the time she reached it. The thought didnt make me feel any more kindly toward MacDonald, though.
Do you remember her name at least, Major? I asked, with icy courtesy.
I thought I saw the edge of Jamies mouth twitch, from the corner of my eye, but kept my stare focused on MacDonald.
He took the pipe from his mouth, exhaled a long stream of smoke, then looked up into my face, his eyes pale blue and very direct.
In truth, mum, he said, I just call them all Polly. Saves trouble, ken?