Angels & Patriots_Book One

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Angels & Patriots_Book One Page 11

by Salina B Baker


  Liam stepped forward. “I am Liam Kavangh,” he said, bowing slightly to Joseph.

  Joseph introduced himself and did likewise.

  Seamus and Ian followed Liam’s example of formal introduction.

  Jeremiah handed a tankard of beer to Joseph. “Welcome, Joseph. Sit and warm yourself by the fire. I’m Jeremiah Killam, and I ain’t no angel.”

  “Where’d ya get those manners?” Colm asked Jeremiah suspiciously.

  “I ain’t a complete heathen.”

  “I got news of Henry,” Seamus announced. “May I speak freely?”

  Colm looked at Joseph, and then nodded at Seamus.

  “I learned from a drunken demon that works on the HMS Invincible that Henry’s quarterin’ on Beacon Hill at the home of the Royal Governor of Massachusetts, General Thomas Gage. We ain’t been able to verify it, but I think he was tellin’ the truth.”

  “I need to return to Boston. My children…” Joseph said, alarmed.

  “Your children is safe. Henry don’t know we know,” Seamus said. “But me and Patrick think Henry knows we’re here. Not here at the farm, but in or around Boston.”

  Whispered voices floated down the narrow steps that led above stairs. The wooden risers creaked. Those in the room turned their attention to the sound. Ian was descending with someone behind him.

  Ian stepped into the living room. The woman who followed him alit from the last riser. Colm had never seen her, but he knew she was Sidonie Roux Denning, Ian’s ghost woman—his object of lust.

  This thin plain man was not what she had anticipated. But when Sidonie looked upon Colm, fear burned in her heart.

  “She can’t stay,” Colm said before Ian could speak on her behalf. “Her presence will make ya vulnerable. Send her back to Charles Town tomorrow.”

  “Colm—,” Ian implored.

  “I know she was at the inn in Boston,” Colm said. “I’d hoped ya had enough sense to send her home, but clearly ya didn’t.”

  Michael, Patrick, and Brandon entered the living room and fell silent when they realized what was happening.

  Ian said to Colm, “I’ll find somewhere else for her to live.”

  Sidonie looked down and whispered, “Ian, I will return to Charles Town. He does not want me near you.”

  “Look at me,” Colm said to Sidonie.

  She did as he bid.

  Colm was astounded at how much she looked like Ian. “I’m not trying to be cruel. Ian lets his needs cloud his judgment. Do ya understand me?”

  “Yes.”

  Colm felt Joseph’s stare. “Ya got something to say?” Colm asked him.

  “Are my thoughts welcome?”

  “Aye.”

  “What is your name?” Joseph asked Sidonie.

  “Sidonie Denning.”

  “Can you cook?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I believe I can position you as a cook with my friend, Colonel James Barrett, in Concord. They have a large farm and his wife, Rebeckah, needs kitchen help,” Joseph said.

  “No,” Colm said. “If Henry finds out who Sidonie is, and where she is, he’ll go after her. He’ll kill ya friend to get to her if he has to.”

  “I assure you my friend is not feeble.”

  “Why are ya doing this?”

  “As I have said, a man’s needs are important.”

  Michael and Brandon snickered.

  “Do you disagree?” Joseph asked them.

  Michael frowned. “Ian’s an idiot.”

  “Stop antagonizin’ him,” Seamus told Michael. “I think Ian’s got a right to his woman if she ain’t in the way. If she starts distractin’ him, then she needs to go back to Charles Town.”

  “I said that a week ago, and the fucker tried to kill me for it!” Michael said.

  “Brother,” Patrick said to Seamus. “I agree with Michael. She is a distraction. You was one of the fools who went off fuckin’ human women, but you ain’t keepin’ a woman. Michael ain’t either.”

  Liam said, “I agree with Seamus.”

  After some consideration Colm said, “I’ll allow it. Traveling somewhere as far away as Charles Town might be dangerous now that Henry knows we’re here.”

  “Then it is settled,” Joseph said. “Who will take the message to my friend in Concord?”

  “I’m the least likely to be seen by demons because I can hide my aura from them,” Brandon said. “Can I ride, Colm?”

  “Aye; at first light.”

  Ian afforded a glance at Sidonie.

  “Very good,” Joseph said. “Do you have quill and paper?”

  Liam went to the china closet to fetch them.

  Ian’s relief was short lived. Colm said to him, “Did ya try to kill Michael?”

  “Oh Lord,” Jeremiah said. “Colm, we done talked about this among us. He ain’t gonna do it again.”

  Colm said, “Ya did try to kill Michael.”

  “I did,” Ian admitted.

  Jeremiah said to Colm, “Your boys is worn out. Cain’t you see that? Let it go.”

  “This is none of ya business,” Colm warned.

  “It is if I’m livin’ in this house with you,” Jeremiah countered.

  Colm said, “Ian, I’ll feed ya to Henry’s demons if ya try to kill any of us again. That includes Jeremiah…and Joseph. Now, we got an important guest who deserves to relax and rest. Sidonie, make yaself useful and make up a bed for Joseph—in his own room. Liam, get draughts.”

  “Please, I wish to be a friend and no burden,” Joseph said, smiling.

  “You ain’t got no idea what you’re askin’ for,” Jeremiah grumbled. “Damned angels will talk poesy then act like jilts.”

  “Yet you stay loyal,” Joseph pointed out.

  Fourteen

  Boston, Massachusetts March 1775

  The fifth anniversary of the Boston Massacre fell on a Sunday. Therefore, the patriots observed the annual commemoration of the tragic clash that took place between British soldiers and town’s residents on Monday, March 6. Joseph Warren had given the oration in 1772. He was asked to speak again this year because of the passion he vehemently shared with his fellow patriots.

  The events of that fateful day were well-known, how British grenadiers fired on Boston residents, killing five colonists. Those actions were countered the next day when a mob of 4,000 gathered, demanding the British troops be removed to an island in Boston Harbor, and that British Captain Thomas Preston and his men stand trial for murder. Their demands were met. John Adams defended the British soldiers. They were acquitted.

  There was much excitement to hear Joseph speak among the people gathered in the Old South Meetinghouse. Thirty British soldiers dressed in their brilliant red coats occupied the front seats. Fergus Driscoll, Samuel Adams, John Hancock, Dr. Benjamin Church, John Adams, Abigail Adams, Paul Revere, and William Dawes sat near the soldiers waiting for the orator to arrive.

  Samuel Adams and John Adams feared that Joseph might fall victim to revenge and bloodshed from the loyalists. The Adams cousins went to Colm with their fears before the meeting, and asked for Joseph’s protection. Colm stood behind and to the far-right side of the pulpit, watching the crowd. If anyone threatened Joseph, Colm would strike them dead. The realization that he would kill the children of man for Joseph troubled him.

  Are human emotions infiltrating us? he wondered. Is that why Ian tried to kill Michael?

  The smug soldiers turned a watchful eye on Colm. The inner circle of patriots who knew about Colm and his men were silently amused by the Redcoats’ ignorance.

  Michael, Patrick, and Brandon were stationed in the middle of the meetinghouse. Liam and Fergus were seated among the patriots near the pulpit. Seamus and Ian watched from opposite sides of the meetinghouse. Jeremiah stood in the back with the farmers and country folk who came to Boston for the occasion. None of the brotherhood had a firearm.

  Liam smiled at Abigail Adams. He had not called on her as she had asked him to do when her husband, J
ohn Adams, came home from Cambridge.

  Colm and Fergus made eye contact in readiness for a possible skirmish. Millenniums together as commander and second in command were impossible to erase. Fergus’ blue eyes sent a message to Colm: I am ready, and I am watching.

  At last, a carriage pulled up and Joseph and his apprentice in medicine, Dr. William Eustis, alighted at the door of the apothecary shop across the street. William had a garment draped over his arm.

  Colm and John Hancock left the church and went inside the shop to meet Joseph. Colm raised an eyebrow when he saw what Joseph was wearing over his breeches and shirt.

  “It is a toga,” Joseph said, amused. “It is a garment of freeborn Roman citizens, a symbol of virtue and dignity.”

  John interrupted, “The church is packed. It will be almost impossible for you to make your way to the pulpit through the crowd. We do not want you roughly handled before you get there. William Dawes is placing a ladder against the building by a window behind the pulpit so you can climb through into the church.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Joseph asked.

  “Please, Joseph. Just do as we ask.”

  Joseph looked at the archangel.

  Colm nodded.

  Once they’d all climbed through the window of the Old South Meetinghouse, Joseph stepped behind the black-draped pulpit. Colm returned to his station and ensured that his men and Jeremiah were still at their posts. William Dawes, William Eustis, and John Hancock seated themselves.

  Joseph looked out over the crowd. He spoke with a language that gave an air of calm civility inside the meetinghouse.

  “It is not without the most humiliating conviction of my want of ability that I now appear before you. I am obligated to obey the calls of my country at all times, together with an animating recollection of your indulgence exhibited upon so many occasions, has induced me once more, undeserving as I am, to throw myself upon that candor which looks with kindness on the feeblest efforts of an honest mind.”

  Joseph’s oration was filled with religious references as was appropriate for the deeply religious men and women of the colonies. But his religious views had deviated since meeting the sons of God. He looked out over his captive audience. They were there watching over him—the angels and their human friend. Did he ever doubt there was truly a Heaven? Yes, because he was not a blind servant. He was certain all men capable of simultaneous self-loathing and self-respect doubted what they could not see.

  “The tools of tyrants have rack’d their inventions to justify the few in sporting with the happiness of the many; and, having found their sophistry too weak to hold mankind in bondage, have impiously dared to force religion, the daughter of the king of Heaven, to become a prostitute in the service of Hell.”

  He described the events of the Boston Massacre.

  A British officer standing just below the pulpit held up his hand and showed Joseph the butt of a pistol. The display enraged Colm, and alarmed Liam and Fergus. They were the only angels able to see the threat.

  Colm’s rage overwhelmed his spiritual restraint. His green aura lit the Old South Meetinghouse. It took every ounce of fortitude he possessed not to release his gold radiance in anger. The spellbound audience could not see the light, but the officer who threatened Joseph could. The officer’s eyes brimmed with orange light. The demon that possessed the now deceased Captain Robert Percy made eye contact with Colm and mouthed the words, “I see you archangel, and your new friend is dead.”

  The brotherhood saw Colm’s aura and felt his rage.

  Joseph brought his oration near to a close:

  “Our country is in danger, but not to be despaired of. Our enemies are numerous and powerful—but we have many friends. Determine to be free and Heaven and Earth will aid the resolution. On you depend the fortunes of America. You are to decide the important question, on which rest the happiness and liberty of millions yet unborn. Act worthy of yourselves.”

  Rustling wings backdropped the conclusion of Joseph’s oration. The brotherhood was alarmed. Michael reached into his coat and gripped the handle of his surgical blade. Brandon cloaked his yellow aura. Patrick forced himself not to look at his brother standing against the wall to his left. Seamus and Ian willed themselves not to move until they were ordered to do so.

  Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and Paul Revere rose and came forward to the steps that lead up to the pulpit platform.

  Colm’s eyes were still on the demon’s face.

  Samuel, John, and Paul approached Joseph. Samuel’s arm was outstretched to reach for Joseph’s hand in a congratulatory manner.

  Jeremiah managed to shoulder his way through the dispersing crowd until he was standing behind Robert Percy.

  Seamus, Ian, Brandon, Michael, and Patrick waited for Colm’s orders.

  Samuel and Joseph shook hands as Samuel said, “Thank you for that elegant oration. I move that you speak next year to commemorate the massacre.”

  Fergus saw Jeremiah. He didn’t want to raise an alarm, but he also didn’t want Jeremiah near the demon. He agonized over what course to take, and then decided that their human allies needed to recognize and become aware of what a demon was capable of.

  The four British soldiers who remained in the nearly empty meetinghouse moved in closer to Robert and pulled their sabers from their scabbards.

  Colm ran to the edge of the platform and jumped to the floor in front of Robert.

  At the same moment, Jeremiah slid his skinning knife into Robert’s lumbar spine.

  Orange flames shot from Robert’s eyes, and he emitted a wolf-like howl. The black cloth that draped the pulpit caught fire. Liam’s green aura flashed when he jumped onto the platform and dived at Joseph. They both fell to the floor.

  Paul jumped to the floor alongside Colm. William Dawes ran to aide them.

  The four British soldiers ran to the exit at the right of the pulpit platform.

  Ian, Seamus, and Patrick ran toward the pulpit.

  Jeremiah slid his knife out of Robert’s back. There was no blood on the blade.

  Robert laughed and doused his orange eyes. They returned to the blue eyes that belonged to his human vessel.

  Colm called on every ounce of restraint he had to keep from killing the demon before they had a chance to find out if it knew anything about Henry.

  Ian and Seamus shielded Paul Revere and William Dawes. Fergus and Patrick did the same for Abigail Adams, John Adams, Benjamin Church, and William Eustis. Brandon jumped onto the pulpit platform. Samuel and John Hancock flinched in surprise and stepped backward.

  John Hancock knew without a doubt what he was witnessing, but still asked Brandon calmly, “What is happening?”

  Robert sneered, “Pray to your God. Pray to these angels. Beg for forgiveness for your sins, because Hell on Earth is about to commence.”

  “Who are you?” Hancock demanded.

  Robert snickered. “I am Captain Robert Percy, General Henry Hereford’s aide-de-camp. The general read the missive the angel called Liam had John Adams publish in the Boston Gazette. He sent me here to determine if those brave and daring words were true.”

  Robert looked at Colm, “But more important to his desires, the general sent me here to make certain that you were with your men, archangel.”

  “Henry sent you instead of comin’ himself?” Jeremiah asked. He still held his bloodless skinning knife in his hand. “Sounds ta me like he’s a coward.”

  Robert turned around and took note of the knife in Jeremiah’s hand. “Ah, so you are the man who stabbed me. You are just a man. Am I right?”

  Colm stepped between Robert and Jeremiah.

  “Do not worry, preceptor, I have no business with this man despite what he did—at least not yet,” Robert said. Then he addressed Jeremiah. “General Hereford is awaiting my return. I will convey your sentiments to him.”

  He walked out of the meetinghouse. Colm let him go.

  Liam and Joseph got up from the floor. Brandon stomped on the bur
ning cloth until the fire went out. The men on the pulpit platform slowly descended the steps and joined the others standing on the floor in front of the pulpit. Paul Revere and William Dawes worked to control their breathing. John and Abigail Adams, Benjamin Church, William Eustis, and the angels gathered around Colm.

  The patriots’ religious world was badly shaken. It had been difficult enough to hear Colm recount God’s banishment and deliberate release of demons to kill his own angels, but to see that abomination at work sparked a fear for which there were few words.

  John Adams addressed Colm. “Is God punishing us for our rebellious actions?”

  “Colm is not here to minister to us,” Joseph said. “He is not here to soothe the terrors that are walking this Earth. He is here to protect us and his brotherhood from a death we cannot even imagine.”

  He paused to look at the tense faces of the eight other patriots huddled among the angels, and then continued, “We must accept what our eyes have seen and set aside our religious doubts if we are going to find the courage to move forward. We must accept the intentions of the angels who have come to dwell among us, and fight for us. We must be meritorious men and women who continue to serve God as he expects us to serve him, because we are the children of man.”

  Colm heard the angels’ wings rustle. They were still uneasy.

  “We shall,” Hancock said. “Colm, please accept my apologies. I beg that of you and your men.”

  “We don’t understand the purpose of apologies,” Colm said. “But as Joseph said, we must move past our doubts and band together, or we’ll all suffer.”

  Dawes said, “I believe shedding doubt is the simplest obstacle we will have to overcome in the coming months.”

  Abigail smiled at Liam. Then she said, “Yes, my dear William, I will accept the angels without doubt.”

  She turned her attention to the tall, thin angel with green eyes and a silver ribbon securing his neatly queued brown hair. “You must be the archangel, Colm Bohannon. John has spoken of you and the reverence he holds in his heart for you.”

  Joseph saw the tension drain from the angels’ faces, but something was still amiss. He quickly looked about him in alarm, and said, “Colm, where is Michael?”

 

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