“James, to what do I owe the honor of your presence this day?” Samoth’s words were smooth and graceful, and one could imagine that he meant them if not for the stiffening of his elegant features and the narrowing of his clear blue eyes.
James refused to be intimidated. He knew he too was an imposing figure. He was impeccably clean and neat, if not elegant, and his simple uniform enhanced his broad, powerful frame. When he wore the black helm of Amity, it sat upon his head as regally as any crown, and a sword rode in its sheath at his side. His dark eyes showed no emotion.
“Samoth, we need to talk,” he said civilly.
Samoth stiffened visibly as he sat back down in his high-back chair, but he said amiably, “Of course, James. You know I am always at your service.”
A wry smile crossed James’s lips. “To be sure,” he said, putting aside the polite lie. “I have men getting supplies downstairs.”
“Good!” Samoth relaxed and gestured toward a cabinet stocked with the finest wines. “Something to drink?”
“Not this time, thanks.”
“Well, at least have a chair.”
James could tell that Samoth was on edge, and tensions might ease if he complied. Carefully he lowered himself onto one of the waiting chairs. “I’ve heard a report that some of your men were injured this morning. Do you know what happened or whether they need medical attention?”
Samoth bristled. “What business is it of yours? Do I ask about the welfare of your men?”
“Not unless they have caused a disturbance in Green Meadow,” James countered. He smiled, thinking of the times when Samoth had brought news of one of his men’s misdeeds.
“I have already taken care of this matter,” Samoth said flatly.
“I thought I could offer medical services if you need them,” James responded.
“We have our own medicine,” Samoth said sullenly. Then he brightened, “Who did you say brought you news of the event?”
“A scout,” James replied.
“When and where did he see these men?”
“This morning he crossed paths with a caravan of your hired men.”
“Hired men?” Samoth looked puzzled. “Oh, yes! The hired men worked late last night, and this morning there was a scuffle. You know how tempers can flair when men get tired. I guess someone pulled a knife. We asked the man not to go out today, but you know how tough these men are. He wanted to go. Said he had to make some more money. He doesn’t get paid to lie around.”
James looked doubtful but said nothing.
“Believe me, James, everything is under control. Thank you for your concern,” Samoth said coolly. They both rose from their chairs.
“Thank you for your time,” James said without emotion. Without another word, he turned and strode quickly from the room.
As the door closed behind him, James knew that Samoth had been lying about the men being hired. So, Thomas was right. Samoth was using slave labor. Well, he thought, how do I deal with this?
For the next several days, James sought to keep Thomas and Samoth apart. He feared that someone would get hurt if they ever got together, but not everything was going badly for him. Green Meadow’s coolness toward the garrison was beginning to thaw. Devia had enraged many of his competitors by implying that they would have to fend for themselves if trouble ever came to Green Meadow. Many had come to court James’s favor as the threat of war loomed on the horizon.
James had hoped to find a compromise that satisfied nearly everyone—until Irene Stanley brought a delegation to his command center.
James had met Helberg and Irene Stanley before, and he knew they farmed on the western slope. The western slope was an area not really claimed by Emancipation or Amity or anyone else, so life there was a bit wild and unrestrained. Helberg and Irene were pioneers who were not afraid to settle new territory or live with some unsavory conditions. They didn’t have a lot of neighbors on the western slopes, but they were very close to the ones they had. James knew these things about Helberg and Irene Stanley. What he didn’t know was why Irene and several of her friends were in his command center.
“Mrs. Stanley,” James said as he ushered Irene and her friends into his office. “What can I do for you?”
Irene was not a woman to waste words. She explained how several of the neighbors had been losing livestock and farm tools ever since the winter snow had melted. Things had become so bad that twenty men from the surrounding farms had gathered and gone in search of the thieves. “And the men have not come back!” Irene exclaimed.
Irene Stanley stood unflinching in front of James. She and her neighbors had come directly to him with their troubles, bypassing Master Devia altogether. Now, here she stood, expecting some kind of a response.
James shifted his weight uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure what to do. “Ladies,” he began, “I am not authorized to travel beyond the borders of Amity. You could speak to Master Devia. He is—”
“Devia.” Irene stamped her foot impatiently on the canvas floor. “I wouldn’t go to him if my life depended on it. I imagine he is behind all this.”
“My husband doesn’t trust Samoth or his father,” said a pretty young woman in the group. “I came to Irene, and she came to you. We were hoping you might send some men out to look for our husbands.”
Just then, George Greenwold stepped into the tent, saw the gathering, and turned to leave.
“George!” James cried. “Come in! I need your help.”
George had to hear the story again, and one fact that stayed consistent, regardless of who told the tale, was that none of the women wanted to return to their homes. They were tired, hungry, and footsore. Though provisions were not plentiful in camp, James ordered a meal for the ladies from the larder, and in a short time their first grievance was amended. Housing was more difficult. They could not stay in the camp. After much discussion, James assigned George Greenwold the responsibility of finding housing for the women in Green Meadow.
Though the women had been fed and were about to find housing, James had not yet promised any specific action. The women continued to plead their case to James, until Irene Stanley stood and faced them. “The commander needs time to plan his strategy,” she said. “We must allow him to do what he thinks is best.” She turned and looked directly into James Stafford’s eyes and said, “Thank you, Mister Stafford, for your cooperation.” Turning, she led the women quietly from the commander’s tent.
James sat alone, turning the news over in his mind. “Oh, Lord,” he prayed, “what am I to do?”
CHAPTER 14
The Plot Thickens
Thomas sat alone in the narrow canyon, awaiting the caravan of wagons that carried stone to Green Meadow. Many questions raced through his mind. Have I missed the caravan today? Is Samoth done hauling stone? Does he know I helped that injured man? Is the man going to be all right?
Thomas came back to the present when his horse snorted and stamped the ground. There was a familiar sound of hooves on stone and wheels descending the steep path into the ravine.
Straining to see through the predawn darkness, Thomas watched as one wagon after another passed his position. He should have spotted the man he had assisted by now.
Thomas raised his hand and shouted, “Good morning, friends!”
“It’s a trap!” someone yelled.
Thomas turned toward the voice and heard the angry hiss of a passing arrow.
“Run!” someone yelled.
Thomas obeyed without question. He plunged blindly into the trees and down the ravine. He finally stopped to listen for pursuit and could hear none.
His immediate danger past, Thomas began to think about what had just happened. I’ve met this caravan multiple times, Thomas thought, but the black man I assisted is the only man to ever speak to me in my language. I wonder if he shouted the warning. If he did, he saved my life
. If Samoth wanted me dead, what will he do to the man who just saved me?
The more Thomas thought about his close encounter, the more convinced he was that the man who had shouted a warning to him was in terrible danger.
James watched as Thomas ran the men through their drills. He noticed that Thomas walked more slowly and had little enthusiasm for the activities. It seemed he was merely going through the motions. Even though Thomas acted lethargic, the men rallied around him as they practiced mock drills against invisible foes.
James signaled a bugler, whose clarion call brought the drills to a halt. “Take a breather, men,” he called. “I need to speak with your commander.” James beckoned to Thomas.
Thomas joined him, and the two men walked some distance before speaking. James broke the silence. “Thomas, what is bothering you?”
“Why do you ask?” Thomas queried, avoiding James’s eyes.
“I know you too well, little brother. Something is eating you. Your mind is miles away. You might as well tell me what it is and get it out of your system.”
Thomas hung his head. “I’ve disobeyed your orders,” he said meekly.
“What are you talking about?” James demanded.
“I met the caravan again this morning,” Thomas began.
“All right,” James said. “What happened?”
“It was a trap, James. Someone tried to kill me. Someone in that caravan shouted a warning as an arrow shot past my head. I’m not certain, but I think the man who warned me was the same man I helped the other day. I ran away, James. I left that man alone. If he foiled someone’s attempt on my life, what do you think that person will do to him?”
James’s heart was beating fast. He rubbed the back of his neck to relieve the stress he felt. “That was too close, Thomas. Promise me you will never again meet that caravan alone!”
Thomas studied the ground and said meekly, “All right.”
“It appears that this morning I came very close to losing the best commander I have. I cannot afford to lose you!”
Silence ensued, and finally Thomas asked, “Do you think Samoth is behind this?”
James was hurrying from the command center when he saw George Greenwold. “Greenwold!” he called. “Come with me. Our scouts have sighted enemy troops on the Western Slope. I want to check it out for myself.”
Greenwold’s face grew hard, but he said nothing. Both men slid to the bottom of the hill where their horses were tethered. Mounting quickly, they turned and rode west. Crossing a ravine, they climbed to the meadow. Devia’s fortress stood dark and menacing against the horizon.
As they approached the citadel, James asked, “Were you able to find all the women a place to stay?”
“Aye, but that was a morbid task, and I wouldn’t have done it for anyone but you.”
James smiled. “You talk rough, but your heart is as tender as my brother’s.”
Greenwold ignored the comment, choosing rather to study Devia’s fortress. “Devia’s up to no good.”
“Why do you say that, George?”
“This castle, in part. You know he’d like to be rid of your father and be the king of Amity himself.”
“My father is not the king of Amity. He’s more of a guardian than a king.”
“You’re blind, James. The Stafford name holds tremendous sway in Amity. Samoth and Devia both know it and hate you because of it. They’d love to rule Amity and see you hang, if they could.”
“George, you are beginning to sound like my brother.”
They were rounding the corner of Devia’s fortress when they pulled up short. James saw the bodies of two men: naked, bloody, bloated, and hanging by the neck above the northern gates of the fortress. James and George stared in disbelief
“Whew!” whistled Greenwold. “What do you make of that?”
“It might have been disciplinary action,” James said stiffly.
“Discipline?” George said quietly. “Looks more like a public execution to me.”
“Me too,” James said, nodding.
George sensed James’s darkening mood and decided to pry no further. He must know something he wasn’t sharing. Changing the subject, he asked, “How’d you hear about enemy troops over here?”
“I sent a few scouts out to look for Stanley and his neighbors. When they spotted troops, they returned to tell me.”
“When was that?”
“This morning!”
George raised his eyebrows.
James continued, “The scouts didn’t get far before spotting them. To stay out of sight, they circled wide to the south. There were troops everywhere; they estimated about two thousand men.”
Greenwold whistled again. “That’s a lot of men to move overnight!”
“I hope the scouts were guessing high.”
“Were they Jabin’s troops?”
“Our scouts didn’t see the familiar red banners of Jabin’s elite corps, but he has such a coalition that they may be his, even though they don’t look like it.”
Riding easily, they topped a small hill and stopped short. Rows of tents stretched away before them.
“Hiyah!” a voice yelled in the distance. Dark-clad soldiers emerged from their tents and leaped upon waiting mounts. In moments a fair-sized cavalry was racing toward the very hill where James and George sat.
The men turned their horses and fled.
James was near Devia’s fortress before he slowed to look back. There was no visible sign of pursuit. In his mind he could see the foreign soldiers returning to their tents, laughing. His heart pounded, and his face turned red. He wondered if the men in Devia’s fortress had seen their retreat. Were they laughing too?
They circled wide around the fortress walls, avoiding the grisly scene at the gates. Neither man spoke until they reached the command center and went inside.
“George, I need you to go to Stonewall. I’m calling for a council.”
Greenwold said nothing, but his eyebrows arched high on his forehead.
James noticed and growled. “I’ve got to have direction! You are a forceful man, George. Convince every village master to meet at Stonewall as soon as possible.”
“And what shall I tell your father?”
“Tell him everything. Don’t hide anything from him!”
George nodded.
James suddenly grabbed George’s arm. “Wait! Thomas thought something was amiss with that weapons shipment to Gaff, but I didn’t take him seriously. I wish I had!”
“What’s that?” George asked.
“Oh, it’s probably nothing,” James snapped. He grabbed some paper and opened a bottle of ink. Setting quill to paper, he scribbled a few words and handed the paper to Greenwold. “There,” he said, “this is a summons to council. Show that to every village master. If they don’t recognize my signature, they may recognize my horse.”
“You’re going to send me on the black mare of Stafford House?” George asked with incredulity. “None but a Stafford has ever sat astride that horse.”
“Well, you will!” James said, returning Greenwold’s gaze. “You have to convince everyone of our urgent need.”
“Aye.” George turned to leave.
“George,” James called him back. “This could be a matter of life and death.”
George frowned, but he could feel a chill run down his spine as he turned to go.
“Thomas, there are some things I want you to do for me,” James said without looking up from the map stretched out before him.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ve sent Greenwold to Stonewall. He is instructed to call every village master to council. I hope he will help swing the council in our favor.”
There was a pause, so Thomas asked, “Why are you calling Amity to council, James?”
“Sit down,” James said,
motioning. He then told Thomas of his morning’s activities and how the scouts he’d sent to search for Stanley had spotted troops west of Green Meadow. Upon their return, he had taken Greenwold with him to check it out. “George and I were chased by several hundred men, but they stopped chasing us by the time we reached Devia’s fortress. I’ve sent scouts out several times each hour to keep track of their numbers and movement.”
Thomas grew sober. “Where and how many?”
“Come and look at the map,” James suggested. “Each time a set of scouts comes in, they update up me on the enemy’s numbers and position. Each X indicates approximately one hundred men and where they were last seen.”
Already the map had an alarming number of Xs covering the Western Slope. Thomas eyed the map, and then his brother.
“We are closer to Gaff and his men than to Father,” James said quietly. “But unfortunately Jabin’s men are between Gaff and us. Our only hope is that Father will raise an army quickly and come to our rescue!”
The brothers looked at each other, and James said what he knew Thomas must be thinking. “I know! I should have moved sooner. It takes too long to muster an army and move it here from Stonewall. We’ll have to delay everything as long as we can, play for time. Meanwhile, we have a community at risk.”
“What do you want me to do?” Thomas asked.
“The troops must be on full alert tonight. Triple the guards. And there must be no campfires or torches.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Thomas, I want you to explain to the men why we’re increasing security, but keep it low-key. We don’t need a panic.”
“I understand. Is there anything else?”
“I’m issuing an order for the evacuation of all women and children from Green Meadow.”
Thomas’s eyebrows shot up. “Have you spoken to Devia?”
“No! When war is imminent, this is standard procedure. Devia should not have a problem with that.”
Beyond the Fire Page 17