The Emerald Key

CHAPTER 9





They reined in the horses at the top of a steep decline that wound down to the northern bank of the St. Lawrence River. Below, the mighty river was constricted to a narrow channel and several large ships lay anchored in its glistening waters. In a large dry dock directly below them, Jamie recognized the streamlined hull of the Independence, lying naked in the afternoon sun. The punctured section of hull that Jamie had helped repair during their crossing had been stripped right down to the ribbing. To the right of the dry dock lay a large town. In the centre of a collection of buildings stood a tall, thin, silver spire shining among the mishmash of shingled roofs. On the far side of town, a huge military fort stood prominently on top of a cliff, guarding the area from attack by either water or land.

Tutuyak stared down at the European settlement. “That is Quebec.”

Jamie dismounted Falcon and then helped Beth to the ground. “Thank you for your help, Tutuyak.”

“Thank you,” added Colin, giving Tutuyak a squeeze around her waist.

Jamie took Colin in his arms and lifted him off the back of her horse. Tutuyak smiled at the three young Irish travellers, her long, black hair flowing freely in the breeze.

“You have a strong spirit, Jamie Galway. You have chosen a difficult path to follow. I saw it in a dream last night.”

“You’ve been dreaming about me?” asked Jamie, with a wry smile.

“Dreams help us make sense of things we don’t understand,” Tutuyak replied. “And you are an interesting man.”

Just then, a falcon screeched from above and winged its way past them on the warm summer breeze. Jamie’s horse whinnied in response, and Jamie laughed.

“Falcon thinks he’s a bird.”

“Their spirits are intertwined,” she explained. “And it is also a sign for you. The falcon will help lead you to where you need to go.”

“As will my faith,” he added.

“Be true to yourself.”

“I’ll miss you,” he replied. “Are you sure you don’t want to come along with us?”

“Are you two in love?” asked Beth. “I mean, you kind of remind me of my older sister and her bonny lad just before they kissed. Now that was really disgusting! If you’re going to kiss, warn me, please, because I had to run inside when they did, so I didn’t have to look at it, but then I tripped over a bucket and fell on my face. My sister yelled at me and said I wrecked the moment, which I really didn’t mean to.…”

Jamie wrapped a hand around her mouth and shook his head. “Can you take this one back with you?”

“I’m afraid your paths are intertwined as well.” She laughed. “As you say, bonne chance.”

She gave the horse a kick and trotted away, leading Falcon along behind her. Jamie led Beth and Colin down the steep hill and into the heart of Quebec. It was not as big as Cork or Dublin, but it still had the rhythm of a bustling community. There were bakers and tailors, blacksmiths and printers, all selling their wares behind the seemingly endless clapboard or stone facades. The children hungrily eyed the grocer’s stand with its shelves of fresh fish and vegetables as well as several bakeries with their steaming loaves of bread.

“I’m hungry,” said Colin.

“Keep your chin up,” Jamie replied, picking up the pace. “I’m sure there will be a meal waiting for us at the cathedral.”

The church towered before them. The large stone face and slim silver spire were quite different from the older, squatter Catholic churches found scattered across Ireland. Ignoring the main doors to the sanctuary, Jamie led the children around to the side of the church and the walled cloisters. Entering through a small gateway, they strolled through dark hallways to a wooden door. Jamie grabbed hold of a large iron knocker and rapped it several times. After a moment, it swung open and a thin priest with greying hair and an open, kind face examined the three Irish youngsters.

“May I help you?” he asked in French.

“My name is Jamie Galway,” Jamie replied in French, “I am with the Brotherhood of St. Patrick, and I was hoping that you might give my young friends and me food and lodging for the night.”

As they shook hands, the priest looked down at the ring on his fourth finger.

“Yes, of course. I am Monsignor Baillargeon. Please, do come in. A member of the Brotherhood, you say? I didn’t realize members could be so young.”

The priest moved to the side, allowing Jamie and the children to enter the church office. The room was a small and comfortable study with shelves of books, a writing desk, and a set of cushioned chairs facing a log-burning stone fireplace. Lying on a bearskin in front of the fireplace was a little boy about two years old playing with a set of painted wooden blocks. He had light brown hair with playful green eyes and a halo of freckles across his nose.

“Little Simon,” said the priest to the young child, “it’s past your bedtime.”

The priest scooped up the young boy, tickled him until he giggled, then walked him to a narrow flight of stairs that led up to a loft.

“Please, have a seat by the fire. I will return as soon as I put Simon to bed.”

Jamie and Beth thankfully collapsed onto the chairs. Colin’s eyes were locked on the collection of colourful blocks on the bearskin. He looked up to Jamie, who nodded his approval. Flashing a smile, the young boy flung himself down on the soft fur and began building towers.

“I didn’t think priests could have children,” said Beth.

“They don’t,” agreed Jamie. “But I doubt Simon is his child. They didn’t look anything like each other.”

She lowered her voice. “Please don’t tell him that I’m a runaway! He might return me back to the orphanage! Or worse, they might send me back to the farm!”

Jamie paused in thought. “How are you going to get another family if you don’t tell them what happened to you at the farm? I can promise that I’ll do everything I can so that you won’t be sent back to the same family.”

“I don’t want another family.”

“What are you going to do, then, if not go to another family?”

She looked pleadingly at Jamie. “I’d like to stay with you.”

Jamie raised his eyebrows. “I can’t adopt you, and even though I like you, Beth, I’m not in need of a little sister just at the moment.”

“Please? Just for a little while? I can help you find your brother. Remember what Tutuyak said? Our paths will be intertwined!”

Jamie examined her pleading face. “The one thing I will need when I get to Montreal is a nanny to look after Colin while I search for my brother. Would you be able to do that for me?”

She nodded eagerly. Before she could reply, Monsignor Baillargeon stepped onto the landing and made his way down the steps to his waiting guests. He joined them in front of the fireplace. In fear of being found out, Beth fell into an unusual silence.

“Little Simon is such a blessing, but he does take his time to fall asleep.”

“Is he an orphan?” asked Jamie.

“Yes. He’s one of hundreds I have in my care. I’m doing everything I can to find them safe places with families in the church. Simon I’m especially fond of. It gives me a moment to imagine what life could have been like as a father if I hadn’t chosen to do the work of God.”

Beth purposely looked away, but Jamie smiled in admiration. “That is a huge but noble task. Hopefully all will end up with loving families.”

“Amen,” said Beth, not looking up.

“I normally take travellers such as yourselves to the church hall for dinner, but I would very much like to talk to you, Jamie, in private. Why don’t I serve up some of the bean soup and bread I have in my kitchen for Beth and Colin so that the two of us can talk in here?”

Jamie translated for the children. Beth and Colin jumped to their feet. “Yes, please!”

Monsignor Baillargeon led them through a small doorway and into a simple kitchen. On top of a small wood stove sat a pot of bubbling soup. The priest scooped some of the savoury-smelling broth into four wooden bowls, then placed two of them on a small table along with a piece of bread and mugs of sweetened tea. After the priest had blessed the meal, the children dug in hungrily. Jamie and Monsignor Baillargeon took their bowls of soup and tea to the study, making themselves comfortable in front of the fireplace.

The priest pointed his spoon at the young man. “So you are a member of the Brotherhood? I have only heard of the Irish Brotherhood through quiet conversation. Is it true, then? There is a group protecting the ancient knowledge of our early Christian brothers in Ireland?”

Jamie nodded. “Much must remain secret, but yes, the ancient knowledge has been kept safe for almost a thousand years.”

Monsignor Baillargeon took a sip of the hot soup and shook his head. “How is it possible for such secrecy? A thousand years! And the knowledge being kept secret is all the more impressive considering your people have had to suffer through countless invasions. That is a tremendous accomplishment. So what brings a member of the Brotherhood to my humble abode in Quebec?”

Jamie put down his bowl. “There has been a terrible accident. My brother Ryan, who is also a member of the Brotherhood, was attacked by British troops near Cork. He was then shipped off, unconscious, to Montreal. To make matters worse, he also had with him a priceless document that the Brotherhood desperately needs to retrieve. I’m here to track him down and bring them both back home.”

The monsignor thought for a moment. “Are you sure he survived the crossing?”

“At this point …” Jamie paused, “I’m not sure of anything.”

He put a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Try not to worry, my friend. We will do whatever we can to help you find your brother.”