“What of, Mother?” asked Brendan Fergus. “I say, what shall we be celebrating?”
“I suppose we shall celebrate a warm ride for all it is winter a-coming in. We will have a fine supper, and I will make sweetmeats aplenty for you all. Now, speak to no strangers on this road, unless I give you leave.” The horse stepped out, lumbering, gentle. He turned his great head and looked back at me with a quizzical face, if a horse can have such, and continued on his way. I added a lilt to my voice. “Everyone? Faces front, hearts on the lessons of the Sabbath.”
As we reached the joint of the road where the Carnegie farm path met the Lexington–Concord road, a group of soldiers in bright crimson, bearing muskets and swords, caused such a noise that our horse turned his head to see them. I had no good hold on his head and when he turned the reins fell from my hands. He thought the slack rein meant he was doing as he ought, and he turned into the soldiers’ ranks.
The Redcoats shouted, waving their arms about and calling me to halt the horse. One of them grabbed the horse’s collar and nose-rigging and pulled him to stop, saying, “Mistress, you was asked to stop this horse and wagon!”
“I have lost the reins,” I replied.
He blew upward, tossing his amber curls. “Well, then. ’Ere you are. Now, where are you off to, Mistress?”
His lowborn Cockney accent was so like those I’d heard aboard the privateers’ ship that I got a clutch in my throat hearing him. I said, “Church meeting. Lexington.”
“Go there often, do you?”
“Every Sunday as we can manage.”
He nodded in the direction I knew was the road to Lexington. “It’s that way, Mistress.”
“Yes, I know. I lost the rein when he looked to see the spectacle of your coats and the turn was made for me.”
“Well, back him up and on your way, then. We have business at the house down the road. Do you know the house I mean? The one far and awa’ too castley for its own good? Now ’as orders to billet this company of men, since they ’as so much room.”
I froze still as a stone. He waited. He said again, “Back ’im up and be on your way, Mistress,” but this time there was a note of threat in his voice.
“I know not how to back him up, sir. I am not privileged to have much experience in driving and my husband has gone to work.”
“On the Sabbath. That’s strange. Might be arrested for such, where I come from.”
“Truly?” I tried to replace the terror I felt with a look upon my face of surprise and humor. “You must all be devout, then, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance. If you could but help me get this wagon turned, I should say a prayer for you when we get to the church.”
“You ain’t some papist?”
“No, sir.”
He handed his musket to another and shoved at our horse’s wide chest, kicked at his hooves, and got him to back the wagon enough to pull his collar and get him righted. The soldier handed me the reins but I was caught with dire worry, and after we passed a small curve in the road, I got the horse to stop. I turned to America. “They were going to my house, of course,” I whispered. “If all they want is billeting and Cullah meets them sword in hand, he will be killed for nothing.”
“They were staring at me in a way made me feel most naked, Mistress.”
“Your master will protect you and I shall, as well. No one under my roof shall be harmed, but I must warn Cullah before they get there. If he tries to fight them, they outnumber him so greatly it will go badly. Help me turn this horse about.”
“Me, Mistress?”
“Yes. Hold these reins and I will push the brute about as that soldier did.”
She gasped but did as I asked. I climbed down and strained against the great beast with all my might. At length he turned and I returned to the seat, flicking him soundly.
The Redcoat soldiers heard the horse as we approached, and moved to the sides of the road for I then had no control over Sam; he would do as he wished with us at his top speed. We sailed between them, past them, crying children and all, before they could react in any way that would slow Sam. He was slow and huge and powerful, and once he got started, he just did not stop. I hoped Cullah was able to hear the racket, for we made good time, and though the soldiers ran behind us for a little while we outpaced them. At the house, I pulled with every fiber of my being and Sam adjusted his pace not at all. “Stop!” I cried with all my strength. I screamed.
Cullah came running from the house, his axe in his hand. Seeing the horse out of control, he left the axe in a bush and ran for us, took the animal by the collar, and got it stopped. I leaped from the wagon and ran to his side. “Put away your weapons. The soldiers are on their way but they are not after you. They want billeting, Cullah. They are not here to fight you. There are twelve of them. Please do not fight; they will kill you. Cullah, do you hear me?”