Winds of Change
Copyright© 2006 by R. Michael Lowe aka The Scot. All rights reserved
Chapter 15
The dock was in sight and Bea was already screaming for help. Sailors from some of the other ships, vendors from some of the open shops and general laborers all ran to find out what happened. When the bodies were seen, pandemonium broke out. Some were trying to wrap the bodies in blankets, while others were demanding a gathering of the militia to wipe out the bloody savages once and for all. The only thing they weren’t doing, was listening to Bea. That changed when Zeke came and tossed the loudest of the group over the side.
“It wasn’t Indians,” cried Bea. “It was white men dressed as Indians.”
“How do you know,” asked a young man who seemed very apprehensive of her answer.
“Well, I didn’t see any faces from where I was hiding, but I did see white arms, hands and feet. Also, the killers all spoke the King’s English.”
“Why would they do such a thing?” asked one of the women.
“Beau had a load of rum, and it’s now gone.”
“Charlie, you and some of your blokes unloaded some rum last night. Where did you get it?”
“From one of the ships off-shore. The larger ships don’t like to come back here where they could be trapped.”
Grant and the Marion brothers were now on shore. Zeke freed the rope from the bow of the Amanda Dear and a couple of sailors on Secret were hauling it aboard. Victor was attempting to pull Secret away from the dock, but the wind and tide were working against him. At this point he was helpless unless he used his motor.
The mood on the dock suddenly changed when a large man lumbered down the dock, dragging a Chinese male who had what looked like a large dog collar around his neck.
The man wrapped the leash around a piling, and said, “Stay, you yellow dog.” The man lumbered further until he reached the gangway of Bea’s boat. “What happened here?” he asked.
“Bea says they were attacked last evening by white men dressed as Indians. They killed Beau and his crew while Bea and the children hid. They took Beau’s cargo and left the men to rot.”
“Is this true?” the man asked Bea.
“Yes. They wore feathers and war paint, and used Indian weapons.”
“Can you identify any of the killers?”
“No, I could only see hands, arms and feet from where I was hiding, and their voices were muffled.”
In a mock attempt at sadness, the man said, “I’m sorry for your situation, Bea, but you know that Beau’s note is due tomorrow. Will you now agree to be my wife, or will you become my indentured servant?”
“Neither,” answered a defiant Bea, “I have the money to pay off Beau’s note.”
“Now, where did you come up with thirty Pounds?”
Bea pointed to the watching Grant, and said, “Mister Maxwell answered my distress signal from the shore and, with the ship abandoned, he claimed salvage rights. After I was rescued and brought back to the boat he listened to my tale of woe and agreed that he still got a fair deal on the boat, even if he paid off the debt. Now, I have five Spanish doubloons in this bag, which I’ll hand over in full view of these witnesses. All I need from you is the paid receipt on the note and any change that’s due from the conversion.”
“I’m sorry Bea, but doubloons aren’t legal tender. I don’t have to accept them.”
One of the old men, shouted, “That may be true, but you’re known to spend them easy enough. Does that mean that we don’t have to accept your doubloons for purchases at our shop?”
Another man said, “Bea, I’ll gladly exchange your doubloons for British Pound notes at the standard rate of seven and seven. I’d much rather have gold than pieces of paper any day.”
At this point Elias Bertram knew he couldn’t win, so he agreed to Bea’s terms. He actually had the note in his shirt pocket, so he borrowed ink and a quill from one of the vendors and marked the note paid and signed it. Bea counted out the five doubloons and while he calculated the conversion and made change, Bea put the coins back in the bag, as per Grants instructions.”
Franklin angrily started back down the dock, only to find the man Bea had pointed to standing in front of his pet Chinaman.
Zeke moved down the dock following Bertram and Bea, following Grant’s instructions, started moaning and screaming all over again about being desolate with two babies to care for. Barbara, now dressed as a downtimer, stepped off Secret carrying Charles. She reached back and helped Caroline move to the Dock. Then, with Caroline holding her skirt, Barbara move toward Bea and leaving Grant wondering what was happening. Then, about twenty yards in front of Grant, Barbara made a slight nod and Zeke move quickly behind Bertram and grabbed his head, making a quick snap.
Barbara grabbed the coin purse and dropped it in a pocket as Zeke moved the now dead Bertram up a step to a piece of fruit Barbara must have dropped, the fruit was mashed and the dead man was thrown against the top of the rail of Amanda Dear. Barbara was already screaming as the body hit the water, followed quickly by Zeke trying to rescue the poor ’accident’ victim.
While Grant watched the rest of the tragedy unfold, Grant thought to himself, I’ve got to talk to that woman. That was done way too smooth to be done by an amateur.
Gabe moved up beside Grant, and said, “I’d have paid admission to have watched that.”
Grant responded, “I know what you mean, and it was a much better plan that what I had developed.”
Several of the men rushed to help Zeke, but all they could do was lift Bertram’s lifeless body out of the water.
“What happened?” asked one of the men?
Zeke answered, “He was in front of me and the woman with the kids had just passed. One of the kids must have dropped some fruit, because that guy slipped and stumbled before he fell against the rail of the boat. I jumped in immediately, so he wouldn’t drown. Is he going to be alright?”
“It looks like his neck’s broken,” answered one of the men.
Another asked, “What happened to the money?”
Three of the men quickly patted Zeke for a lump, but from the cold water, there wasn’t even a lump in the front.
“He doesn’t have it. It must be on the bottom.”
This observation was followed by six splashes, as some of the men jumped in to try to find the bag of gold coins. Before it was over with every one of them would die from a ’bad cold.’ After all, Bea had told Zeke that there were seven in the group that attacked the Amanda Dear.
Grant turned to Gabe and Isaac, and said, “Let’s see if we can find lunch.”
There was a road past the shops at the end of the pier. There the three men found a hack waiting for a fare. They approached, and asked, about a good meal.
“If I was a gentleman like you, Sir, I’d eat all my meals at the Three Rivers Inn.”
“And your rate, kind Sir?” asked Isaac.
“A farthing for an hour, a penny for a day, a penny for a night, or a shilling for a week. The week is dearer as it covers day and all night, Sir.”
“We’ll take the week,” said Grant, “though we may actually set sail for Charleston before then. If we do, you can still keep the entire amount.”
“Then, Sir, I’ll be waiting each morning at this spot and will be available until you head for bed.”
“Excellent,” proclaimed Grant. “Proceed to the inn and I’ll pay you as soon as I have the proper change.”
The ride was a short one and Grant was surprised to see Ben Franklin and another man sitting in the back corner.
The three approached the table, and Grant asked, in his Scots accent, “Mr Franklin. I’m Grant Maxwell; would you please grant me a moment of your time? I think you will find it most enlightening.
“I’m sorry, but we’re having a very serious and private conversation; perhaps some other time.”
While Ben was talking to Grant, the other gentleman was preparing a pipe.
“Allow me,” said Grant as he ’flicked a bic.’
That got somebody’s attention, as the man with the pipe said, “I want to know how he did that.”
Grant sat opposite Ben Franklin and pulled a hundred dollar bill from his pocket. When it was placed face up in front of Ben his eyes seemed to grow the size of saucers. Ben almost looked like a cartoon character while he stared at the picture in front of him. The other man’s curiosity got the best of him and drew the bill to his side of the table.
“Where did you obtain such an obvious fabrication?”
Grant answered, “From my bank in Charleston, South Carolina, in August of the year two thousand and ten.”
“Two thousand ten!” exclaimed the other man. “Then you’re from the future.”
“I am, but Gabe and Isaac Marion are from your time. We use the term uptime and downtime to make it easier for people to differentiate.”
Ben asked, “Marion; related to Francis?”
“Our youngest brother.”
Ben nodded as the other man reached across the table and shook Grant’s hand, and said, “I’m sorry for my rude host, but I’m James Watt.”
“I thought that was who you were when we walked in, but the painting and statue I walked by almost daily were made when you were older.”
“Why my painting and statue?”
“Even when I got my doctorate in two thousand four, you were still considered the greatest mind that had walked the hallowed halls of the University of Glasgow.”
“And what did you do in the future,” asked Ben Franklin.
“I was a research scientist and led a group in developing ideas for the Navy, and, no, my research had nothing to do with our journey through time. No, whoever is behind this is far more advanced than we are.”
“It sound like you’re here for a purpose,” observed James Watt.
“We are, but the one with the greatest urgency involves another uptimer, a history professor at Glasgow who hates the United States. According to what we understand, he has given a list to the King of all the leaders of the revolution and those that led the country through a second conflict in 1812. There is a fleet being prepared to subdue the rebellion before it can start.”
“Ben, this fits what I described to you on my arrival. A man suddenly appeared in one of the classrooms spouting all sorts of gibberish about rebellion in the colonies and the evils of something called democracy. Most of us thought him mad, but I later heard that he had convinced the Lord Provost of something, and he was soon on the road to London.
“I don’t know anything about rebellion, but shortly thereafter I had a strange urge to come to the colonies and talk to someone named Benjamin Franklin in Philadelphia. Then shortly after I arrived we both felt a strong drawing to this town and this inn. We both have to agree that something is going on.”
Ben answered, “I haven’t decided if this is real or not, but it sounds like I need to withhold judgment until I know more facts. Where do we go from here?”
“Have you eaten?” asked Grant.
“We had just finished when you arrived,” answered James Watt. “Do you need to eat before we go somewhere else?”
Gabe started to say yes, but Grant said, “We can eat something at the boat and I think you will find even that will be enlightening. Come, we’ve a hack waiting outside.”
Unfortunately, there was a problem. The Hack couldn’t seat five. So it was decided that Gabe and Isaac would wait at the inn for the driver to return for them. Then, just before they reached the dock, the hack turned into an alley.
The driver turned around with a flintlock pistol in his hand, and said, “I heard you paid off Beau Booker’s loan with gold. I think you should hand the rest over to me.”
Grant suspected the problem immediately when the hack slowed near the entrance to the alley, so when the driver turned around, the cane was already pointed at the driver. So when the driver made his demand Grant fired twice, and almost blew the man’s hand off. Firing two shots so quickly was amazing. To do so without a lot of smoke and noise was beyond the scope of the men sitting beside him.
Grant asked the driver, “Do you want to lose that hand, or do you want treatment that can at least give you some ability to use your hand?”
“What are you, some kind of Warlock?”
“I’m an inventor. You’ve just been shot with a new type of pistol. I could have just as easily killed you, but I decided to give you a chance. What do you want?”
“I don’t want to lose my hand, but that’s the common practice around here.”
“Then be thankful I’m not from around here. Give me your hand so I can wrap it. When I finish, drive to the dock. The doctor is on the boat. I’m Grant, by the way.”
“Samuel or Sam,” the man answered.
Sam held his mangled hand out to Grant, who pulled a scarf from his sleeve and made a tourniquet above the wrist. Grant then used the second scarf to apply pressure directly to the wound. “Now Sam, quickly get us to the boat.”
When they reached the dock Grant shouted for Victor.
“What’s going on?”
“I’ve got an injured man here. I need Sophie and Bea.”
Four men came on deck and laid the gangway across to the dock. When they moved to the side Grant and the three men with him moved aboard. They found Sophie waiting at the door.
“You need me,” asked Bea.
“Yes. Gabe and Isaac were left at the Three Rivers Inn because Sam didn’t have room for five. Now, he’s had a stupid accident and they’re stranded. Can you send someone and bring them here.”
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