The men took turns at watch while the others slept. When morning rose, one of So Lat Ti Kee’s scouts quickly ran into the camp. He reported to the Indian guide for ten minutes. Patrick had no clue what they were talking about, but he could tell from the scouts frantic pointing that something big was happening. So Lat Ti Kee approached the white men. “We know much more now about Spanish. Fifty ships sailed through St. Simons cannon fire. Two thousand Spanish landed near Gascoigne Bluff on Frederica River and take fort.”
“Oh, that is not comforting. I think if we add up the soldiers, militia, Indians, and Oglethorpe’s forces, they are only numbering around seven hundred souls. He won’t be able to hold his position much longer. We really need to find your sister and leave this place quickly,” Isaac interjected.
The warrior continued, “Spanish starting to move down road. We ride now. Must find straw hair before Spanish kill all the English.”
“I am ready. Let us ride. To hell with this swamp,” Patrick shouted.
The men broke camp and rode out, kicking up mud behind them. Within hours, the four men arrived at the British campsite. The white men waited and let the Indian coax Garland away from the camp. The Yamacraw ran into the camp and disappeared. After about half an hour, So Lat Ti Kee returned carrying a bloody Indian. The scout propped up the bloody warrior as he spoke, “Straw hair gone. Soldiers move her with camp outside Fort Frederica. We must go closer to battle. Follow!”
The men mounted up and nervously moved closer to the Fort as the sun set. Along the little wagon trail called Military Road, they came across a wounded soldier stumbling back. William stopped and offered the injured man some water. “Sergeant, what be the news?” he asked
The Sergeant went into great detail about the invasion as he drank. The injured man explained that Noble James bested the Spanish General Manitiano’s troops up on Military Road in those ‘Bloody Marshes.’ More Spanish troops descended the little road retaliating their loss. All day the British troops were driven down the road, fighting little skirmishes, until a full retreat was called. The soldier smiled through bloody lips and continued, “When we reached a bend in the road at Gully Hole Creek, Lieutenants Southerland and Macoy decided to stop. Their soldiers and Oglethorpe’s Injun allies hid in the thick of the forest. They waited and watched as the Spanish broke rank. They continued to spy, seeing them stack arms, taking out their kettles, and preparing to cook dinner. They had assumed we retreated for good but we had a surprise waiting. Our forces flew from the forest and attacked the Spanish off guard, killing about fifty dead. Truly, I only have minor injuries and I am on my way carrying the news of the victory back to the fort.”
“If ya can ride, we can take ya to Fort Frederica to share news of yar victory,” William offered the man.
“That would be dandy,” the injured man said as he accepted the offer.
Patrick and Isaac shot William a confused look. William nodded to the worried men, assuring them to relax.
Four horses and six riders approached the gate to a group of waiting guards. The injured sergeant yelled in delight, “Victory today at Gully Hole Creek!” The guards cheered and simply waived the party into the fort without question.
“Well, ya ride ends here, Sergeant. We need to find a wench to do mending for us. Where be the soldiers’ wenches?” William questioned slyly.
“Thanks for the lift. You will find all the women in the medical tents right now. Long live the king!” The sergeant yelled and limped over to join his comrades.
Patrick looked across the courtyard and spotted a flash of bright, blonde hair outside a tent sewing clothes. He galloped over to confirm if he was indeed looking at his long lost sister. When he arrived, he just stared at her visage. Her hair was lighter than he remembered and she was now a grown woman. Her eyes were the right shade of green, but she looked so different from what he remembered. Patrick then noticed a small scar drawn across her eyebrow, reminding him of a childhood fall she was once involved in. “Ga… Ga… Garland? Is that you?” Patrick squeaked out.
“Piss off! I ain’t got time for washing any of your clothes and I ain’t selling my body!” she barked back.
Patrick laughed, “Garland, it’s me! Your brother, Patrick!”
She dropped her needle and looked up slowly. She gave his scarred face a long look. “That is you? Oh God, you found me!” she yelled in joy. She pulled Patrick down from his horse and hugged him so hard it left him gasping for air.
“I have missed you so, sister! But we have no time to lose. You have to leave with us now! We are known men and right now we are pilgrims in a very unholy land,” Patrick whispered.
“God, yes! Get me out of here, but I have to do one thing first. I will make haste,” Garland promised. She disappeared into the medical tent. After a minute she appeared with a tea pot and ran it over to a large soldier’s tent. Patrick watched as she switched the teapot and left it hanging over a small fire. She then disappeared into the large tent. After a couple of minutes, she returned holding a bag and wearing a cloak that covered her face and body.
Patrick helped her onto the back of his horse and stated, “Let us leave this murderous hole and never come back!”
The group started to ride out of the gates when a guard commanded them to stop. “What be ya business leaving at nightfall?”
Nobody in the group could think of a proper response until Garland’s voice spoke up. “These men are ordered to escort me to see one of my boys!”
The guard shook his head in disgust, “Carry on!”
“Tell them I will be back very late but I left them their favorite tea brewing on the fire,” she yelled to the guard.
The group casually cantered down Military Road until they were out of sight. They then broke off into the dense woods to avoid troops who were on their way back to the fort. Even though So Lat Ti Kee was still riding double with his injured comrade, he made quick time guiding the group back into the swamp. They rode hard all night and wanted to stop but Garland begged the group to put as much distance as possible between Fort Federica and them. Finally, by mid-afternoon, they had to stop for the sake of the exhausted horses and to get some sleep for themselves. The white men made a fire and relaxed while the Indians rotated watch.
Patrick finally got a chance to sit down and catch up with Garland. “I sure did miss you, little sister.” He reached out to hug her. As soon as he was in striking range, the back of her hand fell across his scarred-up jaw. The blow knocked Patrick over.
“That is for leaving me alone all these years!” she screamed. She then kicked him in the shin crying, “and that is for not being in Savannah when I landed.”
“Garland, darling, I had no choice. I never wanted to leave you. That is why I sent you a letter the first chance I got, asking you to come join me,” Patrick pleaded.
“A messenger tracked me down in London. He said he had almost given up but he then he ran across someone from my church that knew where I was.”
“Why didn’t Mother and our sisters join you? Are they on their way?” Patrick hoped.
“Oh! You do not know, do you, brother? Mother passed away shortly after you left of blood lung fever. She must have gotten it from taking care of Papa. Our other sisters both died from the pox a few months later. I am sorry, Patrick. I am the only family you have left.” Patrick grew silent and sad as his sister continued, “Frankly, I thought you were dead. I tried to find you in the prison, but they kept poor records. I was told you must be dead if you were incarcerated that long. That is why I never came to visit you.” She sensed his grief, held him as he wept, and promised, “Your family never gave up on you. They were just taken by the Lord.”
Patrick had already assumed the worst about his family in London. Somewhere down deep he knew they were dead. He was prepared for the grief and feelings that were now overtaking him. The sting was not as traumatic as it could have been. Sadly, he had forgotten what his mom and sisters even looked like because it now seemed like a pa
st life.
Patrick wiped his tears, “So, sister, what was so damn important that you had to stop and make tea for the soldiers before you left?”
She reached over and held his hand, “Brother, a group of six soldiers purchased me. I was told I would only have to clean, cook and mend for them. I quickly found out they were horrible evil souls. When the tent flaps closed, they took turns forcing themselves on me over and over and they even sold me to their fellow soldiers for extra rations.”
Patrick filled with rage; “We will go back and kill these men tonight!”
She held him down, ”Brother they will meet the reaper tonight. I have already extracted my vengeance. The six men have a tradition of drinking a hot tea together before they sleep. When I was working in the medical tent I found some Devil’s porridge and infused it in their tea.”
Patrick repeated in confusion, “Devil’s porridge?”
His sister replied, “You know, Beaver Poison, Herb Bennet, Musquash Root, Poison Parsley, Spotted Corobane. I think they call it Spotted Hemlock over here.”
Patrick calmed down, “Those rapist scum are going to have a hard time catching their breath when they sleep tonight and the Grim Reaper will come for their souls by the morrow.”
“Yes, they have a toasting ritual every night. They salute King George and then they all drink at the same time. If they had a good victory today, they will definitely all be drinking it down together tonight.” She grinned evilly.
Patrick had an epiphany, “So that is why you wanted to push the horses and ride as fast as you can, the camp will cry treachery in the morning when the corpses are discovered.”
She nodded. Patrick yelled, “Listen up, lads! I need to tell you there be danger behind us. We ride hard at day break to William’s home.”
Chapter 19
Pirate Tunnels
Once the group made it to a familiar area the men said their goodbyes and heart-filled thanks to their Indian guides.
“Thank you, So Lat Ti Kee. Your debt is paid to me,” Patrick informed him as the group dismounted. “Here, take our horses.”
“When the spirit horse comes for me, white man, he will know all my debts are paid,” the Indian smiled. So Lat Ti Kee’s injured companion stumbled over to Isaac and handed him a battle-worn tomahawk. It had a stunning hand carved cherry handle but the iron blade had chips in the edge from bone strikes. Isaac was grateful for the gift and locked wrists with the injured Yamacraw to show him respect. Patrick nodded his head and the Indians quickly made their exit.
The four walked into Darien and back to William's farm without any pursuers. Perhaps the British would assume the Spanish poisoned them or that Garland fled to join the Spanish. They were just glad to be far away from the war. The group settled into William's home but still kept a nervous eye out. “William, do you think any of the other soldiers recognized you at Fort Frederica?” Patrick asked with concern.
“No, lad. I did not recognize the guards and the camp be pretty much empty. I think we be out of the fire now,” William surmised.
“Ouch!” Garland yelled. Patrick smashed a large green horse fly on Garlands arm leaving a smudge of blood and fly parts. “I am still not used to all these biting bugs. Oh, and the heat is brutal! They might as well have built Savannah on the fucking sun,” Garland complained.
“Patrick, me thinks da three of ya best stay here for a few days and lay low while I put a word out that you need a ship to Cape Fear,” William advised.
“Look at you three men! Come on off with your coats. Look how filthy they are. It will take me all morning to dust these out," Deborah cut in. The three men handed over their riding jackets that were covered with Georgian red clay dust. It would be an exercise in futility to try and wash them, as the dust would turn to clay and stain the fabric. Deborah instead hung the coats on a rope outside and began bushing them with a small hand broom. She called on Lauren and Lindsey to help and with forceful strokes they brushed until red dust filled the air. William enjoyed watching his family do mundane daily chores like brushing. He was settling into the idea of a quiet farming life.
“Patrick, did I tell you? I took some of my gold and ordered me a fold of Kyloe,” William announced proudly.
“What are those?” Garland questioned.
“They be Highland cattle; hairy beasts with long horns. They're either black, red, or yellow, but I ordered dun,” the Scot explained.
“What is dun?” Isaac queried.
“Fer Christ's sake, have none of ya ever worked a farm?! Dun is a color between sandy-yellow and reddish-brown. Their bodies be lighter than their tails and manes,” William explained. “I be figuring Savannah is getting dangerously low on wild game. I could stand to make a killing on cattle here.”
“That is a fine idea, William. Just figure out a way to keep Oglethorpe’s troops from up and stealing your cattle when they get hungry,” Patrick warned.
“Aye. Darien is building a network of spies. We will know hours before the king’s men ever arrive. Plenty of time to be hiding the cattle in the swamps and woods," the kilted man explained.
Later, William dispatched word that the men needed silent passage back to the Argyle Colony through his clan network. As the men relaxed, William explained the local going-ons of the Darien colony. “The highlanders have lost their trust of Oglethorpe. After most of the men in this town were killed or were captured at Fort Mose, he changed ancient Scottish law. That angered the old traditional men of the village something awful.”
“What did Oglethorpe change?” the Jewish man wanted to know.
“The arrogant bastard changed inheritance rights to ‘Tail General,’ ignoring hundreds of years of the tradition of ‘Tail Male’ rights,” William pouted.
“I am not following you. What does that mean?” Patrick questioned.
“It means bloody women can inherit and own land now!” he snapped. “Aye, lad. Everything is changing after the Fort Mose massacre. Remember the trustees of Georgia paid for us to move here and be their soldiers. The trustees forgot that Scots don’t care for authority none and we are not easily controlled. We fell out of favor rather quickly. In 1739, eighteen of the most prominent members of the Darien colony signed the first petition against the introduction of slavery into Georgia. This was in response to pleas to Oglethorpe because the Trustees and inhabitants of Savannah wanted to lift their prohibition on slavery. Since then, most of the people of Savannah have hated the Scots of Darien.
“Allowing women to own land was a real spit in the eye to us. Many kinfolk be ignoring their soldiering obligation and have moved to South Carolina. If things be staying like this in Georgia, we might be joining my kin as well. Many men, me-self included, will no longer ride with da Highlander Rangers or march with da Highland Independent Company of foot. We feel all the deaths at Fort Mose fulfilled our obligation to king and country.”
“Wherever you end up, we will find you and raid your wife’s wonderful haggis,” Patrick smirked. The men had a hardy laugh and reveled in their fellowship.
A day later, Patrick finally caught Garland alone out by the stream washing the cooking kettle. “So after our family passed, what did you do?” Patrick asked.
“Well, brother, nothing I am proud of. I survived stealing scraps of food where I could. I lived with a large group of homeless orphans who roamed the streets. We got quite good at getting food and clothes but it was a horrible life. Later on, a church going woman took pity on me and gave me a job as a servant in her house. It was nice to sleep indoors again but the work was very hard.” She continued, “My benefactor demanded I go to church with her every single day and live a pious life in her home. It was annoying and frustrating but I was grateful to be fed and dry, so I kept working there until I became a full-grown woman. Sadly, her husband, who was a deacon in our church, noticed I was a woman, too. He forced himself on me for over a year until I finally got pregnant by him.
“Right about the time I got your letter, I started
to show. The lady of the house was mortified. She accused me of being a loose strumpet. I explained to her that her husband pressed himself on me but she would not believe it. She then forced me to drink a tea that caused me to lose the baby. I lost so much blood, I almost died. She had no mercy for me and threw me into the street, but not before I stole some gold doubloons from her. I used the money to bribe my way onto a ship to find you. Once I was aboard, the captain double crossed me and sold me into indentured service.”
Patrick interrupted, “Let me guess. Was the bastard captain named Mr. Gibbons?”
“Yes. How did you know?” she exclaimed.
Patrick then told her every detail of his hard life since they had been separated.
The two enjoyed the next few days in peace catching up and growing close again. Isaac also enjoyed Garland’s company as well. Unlike Patrick, she was very interested in his religion and wanted to know every detail about it. She told him how she enjoyed learning about all different religions and wanted to know all about Judaism. Isaac and Garland stayed up late at night discovering and debating the differences in their beliefs.
* * *
A week had passed and William finally had some news. “Lads, I have good and bad news for ya. I think I found a ride to Cape Fear, but you have to go to Savannah to catch it.”
“That would be folly. We best just wait for another ship that will come to Darien,” Isaac insisted.
“There won’t be another ship for months, so this be it, boys. If you miss this, you will be staying the winter with us,” William explained.
“We promised Marian we would be back to help them harvest and see her baby born. We have to risk it, old friend,” Patrick reasoned.
“Well, I will help ya with your chances. There is a shady tavern they built on the bluff right near the Trustee’s garden. The garden is falling apart and they are talking about cutting it up into lots for residents. Some people have already built a few structures over the garden in anticipation. One of the houses has become a den for illegal spirits, illegal trade and a place to bed for known men. Ya will know it by the triple lanterns it has in front and it is made of Savannah brick. If ya go at night, ya should be able to get to dat tavern without being noticed. There ya will be able to barter passage to Cape Fear anonymously," the Scot explained.
Pirates of Savannah: The Complete Trilogy - Colonial Historical Fiction Action Adventure (Pirates of Savannah (Adult Version)) Page 27