Around the River's Bend

by Aaron McCarver

  “Would it be possible for me to do that?”

  “Are you sure you want to? You’d be taking on a man you don’t know.”

  Sabrina had already made up her mind. At the same time she was thinking of the debt she owed to the man, she was thinking also of how she needed someone as a protector. Sion Kenyon had showed that he had at least some instincts of decency, and he would have to do.

  “I want to do it. Will you help me?”

  “Yes, I’ll draw up the papers. It’s fairly simple. We can do that right now if you’d like.”

  “Yes. It’s what I want to do.”

  ****

  Sion was sitting on the floor waiting to be transferred to prison, for there was no furniture in the common cell. Several of the prisoners had been quick to inform him about the hellish place it was. The cell was cold, and he had only a thin coat on. He leaned back against the hard, cold stone and thought with desperation of his condition. He had gone to the aid of a woman without thinking about the consequences, and now because of his hasty action, Rees and his family would have no help.

  His thoughts were interrupted when a guard came in through the barred door and called out loudly, “Kenyon!”

  “Here I am.” Kenyon got to his feet.

  “Come this way. You’ve got a visitor.”

  Kenyon hurried after the guard somewhat confused. He thought it might be Ned Chaps, his manager, but he knew that Chaps was gone to the north of England with the Bristol Mangler for a series of matches.

  The guard led him down a corridor, turning several times, and finally opened the door and said, “In there, and let’s have no trouble.”

  Sion was surprised to see the young woman when he entered the room. He had learned her name during his short hearing. “Hello, Miss Fairfax.”

  “Hello,” she greeted hesitantly. “I’m sorry I got you into all this,” she said. “I had hoped they would turn you loose.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Sion shrugged. He studied the woman carefully, wondering what her purpose was. Perhaps it was just to tell him she was sorry. “Don’t worry about it,” he added.

  “Well, of course I’ll worry about it, but I’ve come up with something that might help. Do you know anything about farming?”

  “Farming! Why, I do know a bit. I worked on a farm in Wales for several years. It’s what I’ve done most of my life.”

  “Have you ever heard of such a thing as an indentured servant?”

  “No, miss, I haven’t.”

  Miss Fairfax pulled the papers out of her reticule and explained the process to him. Finally she said, “I’m going to America. I have a piece of property there, but I need some help.”

  “And you want me to go with you as your servant? What did you call it?”

  “Indentured servant. Yes, that’s what I’m offering you. But let me tell you it’s a dangerous place. There are Indians, and it’s a long voyage, and to be truthful with you, I don’t know what I’ll find when I get there.”

  Sion had thought much of the foul hole of a prison that he’d been sentenced to, and now he said, “I’d have to have a little money, miss, from time to time—not for myself. It’s for a family that I’m responsible for.”

  “Your wife?”

  “No, I’m not married, Miss Fairfax.” He went on to explain how he owed Rees a debt. “That’s why I took up prizefighting. I couldn’t find anything else to do. Another two or three months, and I think Rees should be fine. But I would need to send them a little bit.”

  “I think we can manage that. You realize that if you sign these papers, you’ll be a servant. Not a slave, exactly, but you can’t leave me for five years. At the end of that time, I’m to give you a sum of money and a suit of new clothes.”

  “I’ll do it gladly, Miss Fairfax. I’ve always wanted to see the New World.”

  She put the papers down and watched as he signed them. “I’ll be leaving now, but I’ll be back for you first thing in the morning. The ship leaves tomorrow.”

  “Aye, miss.”

  As Sabrina left the prison, she felt a severe attack of nerves. I’m putting myself in the hands of this man I don’t even know. He did help me when I needed it, but that was only for a moment. I’ll have to keep him in his place. The thought did not comfort her, but as she went to make the final arrangements, she thought of the long voyage and of the uncertainties before her. He’ll be a help to me, she thought. I’ll have to get him a pistol and a rifle so he’ll be ready for anything. She held her head high and thought for a moment of the New World that lay so far away. It was dark and mysterious, and she had heard so many conflicting tales. But it was her destiny now, and with a grim determination she moved forward to meet it.

  Part III

  The Journey

  March-April 1792

  Chapter Eight

  A Rocky Voyage

  As Sion followed Sabrina up the gangplank to board the Caledonia, he felt a sudden twinge of nervousness. He had never been on anything larger than a rowboat, and now as he glanced out over the gray sea that spread itself out to infinity, he suddenly realized how fragile life could be. Up until this moment he had given little thought to the voyage to far-off America, and he was not a man given to fears, yet the thought of endless miles of water and the depths beneath the ship flooded him with uneasiness.

  Ahead of him Sabrina moved quickly, carrying a small wicker cage with one hand and holding on to the rail with the other. From time to time a plaintive cry came from Ulysses, who he had learned was her cat. It didn’t sound like the cat was looking forward to a journey across the sea, either.

  Sabrina’s back was straight, Sion noticed, and he wondered, not for the first time, about this woman who now held his future in her hand. He had been around her long enough to know that she was a willful young woman accustomed to having her own way, and that she could be rather sharp at times. He was not unaware of her beauty, and as they stepped out on deck, he saw an officer turn and follow her with admiring eyes.

  “Hurry up, Zion, don’t be so slow!” Sabrina snapped. She looked tired, for lines of tension were around her mouth, and Sion realized that she was under a great deal of strain.

  “Aye, ma’am—and my name isn’t Zion.”

  Sabrina met his eyes. “I thought it was.”

  “I know that. It’s Sion, with an S.”

  “But I never heard of anyone with the name of Sion.”

  “It’s a common enough name in Wales, miss. It’s the Welsh form of John.”

  “Well, I can’t keep up with your foolish language! Come along. We’ll have to find our cabin.”

  The officer Sion had noticed had overheard the conversation. He stepped forward, touched his hat, and bowed slightly. “I am the first mate, miss. My name is Stern. May I help you?”

  Sabrina turned to face the officer and noted that he was a tall, nice-looking man of thirty or so with brown hair. “Thank you, Mr. Stern. I have a cabin.”

  “And your name is?”

  “I am Miss Sabrina Fairfax. Here’s my bill of passage.”

  “Come this way. I’ll help you find your cabin, Miss Fairfax.”

  “Come along, Sion.”

  Sion followed the two and noticed the ship moving under his feet. Since he was accustomed to the solid earth, the idea of living on something that gave way to other elements captured his attention. He considered the ocean some sort of strange and dangerous beast to be watched carefully.

  Stern led the way down a corridor. Arriving at a door with a seven carved into its face, he opened it and said, “This will be your cabin, Miss Fairfax.”

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Stern.”

  “Anything I can do to make you comfortable, I’ll be glad to help you. The steward’s name is Jones. He’ll be by soon to welcome you aboard. Have you made many voyages?”

  “No, this is my first.”

  “We may have a bit of weather, so you might be prepared.” He turned and left, and Sabrina said, “Bring th
e trunk in, Sion.”

  Sion had trouble getting through the narrow doorway, for the trunk was bulky. He looked around and saw that the cabin was very small, containing two bunks, one over the other, a small cabinet fastened to the wall, one window, and little else. There was but one place to set the trunk, and he put it down.

  “Find a place for the rest of the luggage. And I didn’t get a cabin for you.”

  “I’ll find a place. No problem. I’ll see to the rest of the luggage.”

  Sion left and occupied himself with getting the luggage on board. He found a man with the title of bosun, a short barrel of an individual with steady gray eyes. His name was Olson, and he brusquely helped Sion find a place for the luggage.

  “I’ll need to find a place to sleep so I’ll be out of the way, Mr. Olson.”

  “You can sleep down with the crew. Just find a corner wherever you can.”

  Sion left and for the next hour occupied himself with going over the ship. He had a curious streak in his nature and was fascinated by the tall masts with the furled sails. The maze of ropes going up to the tops of the masts and lying in coils everywhere seemed to him beyond comprehension. “Every man to his trade,” he said. “These fellows would be as lost in a coal mine as I am on board this boat.”

  ———

  Both Sion and Sabrina were on deck when the sailors cast off the lines and the men overhead began to drop the sails. Afternoon had come, and she had expected the ship to wait until morning, but apparently morning, afternoon, and night were all the same to the sailors. Sion was back on the stern, and Sabrina was standing midship watching the sailors scurry about. As the ship began to move, she felt a strange sensation. Most of her life had been easy, until her father died, that is, and as the Caledonia eased out from the wharf, she glanced out over the horizon and for one moment was tempted to demand that she be put ashore. It was a natural enough reaction, for she was setting forth on a journey to a land she had never seen and knew nothing of. As the wind filled the sails and the ship picked up speed, the harbor seemed to recede. It seemed that the ship was standing still and the land was moving away.

  “I trust you’re settled in to your cabin, Miss Fairfax?”

  Sabrina turned to find the first officer standing beside her. He had removed his cap, and the breeze ruffled his hair. His skin was tanned to the color of mahogany, which contrasted with his white uniform.

  “Yes, thank you, Mr. Stern.”

  Stern’s brown eyes surveyed the activities of the crew, and twice he barked out a command having something to do with the sails. Finally he turned and said, “You have family in America?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Well, there’s one thing I’d better warn you about.”

  “And what is that, sir?”

  “The Americans will likely not be too friendly. The Revolution took a lot of their people out. Anyone you meet is liable to have lost a husband or a father or son. They’re not amiable toward the English. I’ve spent a little time in the Colonies myself.” He smiled and shook his head. “But, of course, they’re not colonies any longer. We managed to lose them all during the Revolution.”

  “I’ve never understood that,” Sabrina said. “We have the largest standing army in the world, and of course, the largest navy, and yet a handful of farmers defeated us.”

  “It was quite a bitter pill for the king to swallow, but swallow it he did.” Stern shook his head and twisted his mouth in a sour expression. “The Americans are a tougher breed than anyone in England figured. I had a brother who was an officer in Cornwallis’s army. He told me the Americans knew how to fight.”

  “And our soldiers didn’t?”

  “Our soldiers were trained to fight in ranks in open fields, but most of the battles in America took place in forests and woods. Those American woodsmen are dead shots. He told me they could take a head off a squirrel at a hundred yards. You can imagine what they would do to a mass body of soldiers.”

  Sabrina was anxious to know all she could about America, and she stood there asking questions until the land was only a low-lying streak against the horizon. The ship was rising and falling now with a jerking motion, and the wind was whipping the sails around so that they popped. The ship itself made creaking noises that made her uneasy.

  “It feels like the ship is falling apart.”

  Stern smiled. “It always seems like that to people not accustomed to ships. She’s just working herself a little bit.” He looked off to the west and shook his head. “We’ll be in for a bit of a blow.” He answered a question as a young sailor hurried by. Turning again to Sabrina, he said, “The captain would be glad to have you at his table for dinner this evening.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Captain Jacob Drum. He’s an older man. Dislikes America. Shall I come by your cabin and take you to dinner, Miss Fairfax? I’ve got to see to these hands.”

  “That would be so kind, Mr. Stern.”

  ****

  Sabrina sat on the single chair in her cabin holding on to the table. She looked with apprehension at the window as the ship turned suddenly, then dipped slowly. A driving rain had started, and the drops beat against the pane. The ship tilted steeply forward, and Sabrina waited until it began to rise. The “bit of weather” that the first officer had mentioned seemed violent to her, and she wondered how rough the sea would have to get before she should be really afraid. She had not seen Sion, but he had told her that he had found a place to sleep. A sense of loneliness enveloped her, and she thought of the safe harbor she had found in her aunt Elberta’s house, as much as she had hated it. She remembered Elberta’s parting words: “You’ll get scalped by the red Indians, mark my word! You can always come back here, but you’ll have to lose some of your pride, Niece.”

  Sabrina smiled with a touch of bitterness as she realized that she didn’t have much pride left. No one could be proud when she was being tossed about on a wild ocean. The thought of the depths beneath the ship made her uneasy and queasy, or perhaps it was the motion of the ship. She had been warned that seasickness could afflict anyone, and she fervently hoped she would miss that ailment. Ulysses approached her and rubbed against her calf. She picked him up and cuddled him to her breast. “You’re my best friend, Ulysses,” she whispered. “You’re all I’ve got now.”

  A knock at the door brought her to her feet. She was only two steps from the door, and when she opened it she found the first officer there.

  “Ready for dinner?”

  “Yes, I suppose I am, but I don’t see how you can eat with the ship pitching around like this.”

  “Well, we sailors have to eat, ma’am, even if we have to nail our plates to the table. Come along. I’ll show you the way.”

  Sabrina had put on a coat, for the March air seemed colder at sea than it had in London. She staggered slightly as the ship seemed to wallow, caught itself, and then righted again.

  “Take my arm, Miss Fairfax.”

  Sabrina was glad to accept the tall officer’s offer. “Is this very bad?”

  “This? Oh no, not at all! It’ll blow itself out by sometime tomorrow or the day after. Actually, we should have fine weather.”

  Sabrina accompanied Stern down the corridor, then exited out onto the deck. The wind whipped at her, and she clung tightly to Stern’s arm until they had traversed a third of the ship and then went down a set of rather steep stairs. They entered a room some twelve feet wide and perhaps fifteen feet long. There were two tables there and several officers. They stood as Sabrina entered, and as she ran her eyes around the room, she noted that there were a few passengers.

  “Captain Drum, may I present Miss Sabrina Fairfax. Miss Fairfax, may I present Captain Drum.” Drum was a dour-looking man of fifty or so, and he bowed stiffly.

  “Welcome aboard, Miss Fairfax. Will you sit here, please?”

  Sabrina nodded and acknowledged Drum’s greeting. She took her seat at the captain’s right hand, and Lawrence Stern seated himself
beside her. Drum gave her an analytical look out of a pair of cold, greenish eyes. “You’re bound for America, then. Have you been there before?”

  “No, sir. I’ve never been out of England.”

  “You won’t like it.”

  Sabrina could not help but smile, and she felt Stern’s elbow touch hers. He had warned her that the captain disliked America and now was warning her not to engage in an argument.

  “Do you think not, Captain?”

  “I think Dr. Johnson was right.”

  “Dr. Samuel Johnson? The man who wrote the dictionary?”

  “Yes, a very wise man indeed, God rest his soul,” Drum grunted. “He said the Americans should be grateful for anything we give them short of hanging—and I’m not even sure about the hanging now.”

  One of the passengers, a slight man sitting beside a woman who was even smaller, said, “You don’t care at all for Americans, then.”

  “They’re nothing but a race of convicts!” Drum grunted.

  Drum began to speak of how worthless Americans were, but at that time the stewards began to bring the food in. Sabrina found it required all of her attention to simply control the food. The ship was tilting regularly now, and the plates and heavy goblets had a tendency to move away from her. The food was adequate—boiled mutton, beans of some indeterminate variety, and freshly baked bread. The mutton and the bread were good, but she gave up on the beans. In all truthfulness the rolling of the ship and the queasiness in her stomach had taken away her appetite.

  As she tried to eat all she could, Stern whispered, “The captain lost a son and a brother in the American war. As for me, I found the Americans to be good people. But they’re different from the English. You’ll find them rather crude, I’m afraid. At the risk of being nosy, may I assume that your trip is not for pleasure?” He chuckled, saying, “Very few do that.”