Dawn on a Distant Shore
Page 7
When he had Liam's attention, Nathaniel pointed out a spalt in the cliff face that might have been nothing more than shadow. Without any explanation, he reached up and pulled himself into the mountainside.
The rushing wall of water that formed the outer boundary of the cave sent a wave of cold right to the bone. From a store of wood stacked against the far wall they lit a fire, and then a torch.
"I didn't imagine it like this," Liam said as he warmed his hands. "I thought it would be bigger." His eyes kept moving to the long line of wolf skulls wedged into a crack in the far wall.
Nathaniel disappeared into the shadows at the back of the cave. There was a dragging sound, and a thump, and he appeared again, wiping his hands on his leggings.
"It is bigger," he said. "Come have a look."
He had rolled away a good-sized boulder to reveal the next cavern. The torchlight danced on barrels and baskets and neatly bundled pelts. Hung from pegs driven into fissures were long ropes of dried corn and squash: provisions enough to take seven or more people through the winter. It was dry and quieter here, but cold.
"This is how you managed, last winter," Liam said, mostly to himself. Some of the men in the village had been set on driving the Bonners and their Kahnyen'kehâka family members off the mountain, resorting to thievery when intimidation got them nowhere. They had raided the cabin in the fall, finding less than they expected in the way of winter stores. Billy had been at the heart of that trouble, and where Billy went, Liam had gone, too.
Nathaniel saw all this moving on the boy's face, anger and shame and the regret for his part of what had happened. But it was Liam's battle and he could not fight it for him, so Nathaniel went to work.
"Lend me a hand with this." He gestured with his chin to the largest of three old chests, squat and battered. Nathaniel kept his voice easy, but he watched Liam from the corner of his eye, saw the flicker of interest and surprise.
The chest was heavy, and they put it down with a grunt near the fire in the front cavern.
"The Tory gold?" Liam asked. His tone had a studied evenness, his voice cracking slightly.
Nathaniel snorted. "You've been listening to Axel's tall tales again," he said, hunkering down. He gave the lock a twist and the lid opened smoothly.
On the top was a bundle of papers rolled in oilskin and tied: the Deed of Gift that had transferred the land patent to Elizabeth, their marriage lines, a sales agreement for the schoolhouse Nathaniel had built and then sold to her at her insistence, other papers that would argue louder and longer in a court of law if they had to fight again to keep Hidden Wolf. There was a wooden box of his mother's things, which he put to the side. Underneath, a faint shimmering, and Liam drew in his breath.
"Silver," he breathed. "Pure?"
"Not exactly." Nathaniel reached for the empty pack he had brought with him. "It's hard to work it here, but we do the best we can."
Liam's blue eyes blinked. "There is a mine on Hidden Wolf, after all."
"Aye," said Nathaniel. "There is."
"The north face?"
Nathaniel nodded.
"Does the judge know?"
"No. Guess he never went looking for it."
Liam was silent. At his sides his hands clenched and unclenched convulsively.
Nathaniel said, "I'm only bothering with this now because I may need it in Montréal. The silver ain't mine, though."
The boy's head snapped up. "It ain't? Whose is it, Elizabeth's?"
"The mine belongs to the Kahnyen'kehâka," said Nathaniel. "So does the silver. But they won't mind me using what I need to get Otter and Hawkeye out of trouble."
Liam crouched down, his eyes fixed on Nathaniel. "But the mountain sits on land that used to belong to the judge. He bought the patent at auction."
"True." Nathaniel continued working, but he watched Liam's face from the corner of his eye.
"And he passed it on to Elizabeth, and then you married her."
"That's true, too," Nathaniel agreed. "Although it didn't seem nearly so simple as that at the time. What's your point?"
Liam stopped and studied his hands. It was a habit he had that made him seem older than his years: thinking through what he had to say before he let it go. Another thing that distinguished him from his brother Billy.
"Hidden Wolf belongs to you, and so does the mine. You have legal claim and the silver is yours--" Liam faltered, seeing the expression on Nathaniel's face.
"There's more than one kind of law," Nathaniel said. "The way I see it is, if anybody has a claim to the mine, it's the Kahnyen'kehâka."
Liam stared through the waterfall toward the place where the cabins stood. "Does Elizabeth see it that way, too?"
"She does. We'd sign the mountain over tomorrow, if the court would allow it."
The boy swallowed so that the muscles in his throat rose and fell in a wave. "My brother would get out of his grave to stop you from giving Hidden Wolf back to the Mohawk."
Nathaniel shifted his weight back on his heels. He could almost see Billy in Liam's face. He had the same low, broad forehead, high cheekbones, and narrow-bridged nose. On his upper lip and the backs of his hands was the red-gold down that marked all the Kirbys. One day soon Liam would be as big as Billy had been, and as strong. But there was something in Liam's eyes that his older brother had been lacking. Nathaniel said, "And you? What would you do?"
The rushing wall of water that formed the outer boundary of the cave sent a wave of cold right to the bone. From a store of wood stacked against the far wall they lit a fire, and then a torch.
"I didn't imagine it like this," Liam said as he warmed his hands. "I thought it would be bigger." His eyes kept moving to the long line of wolf skulls wedged into a crack in the far wall.
Nathaniel disappeared into the shadows at the back of the cave. There was a dragging sound, and a thump, and he appeared again, wiping his hands on his leggings.
"It is bigger," he said. "Come have a look."
He had rolled away a good-sized boulder to reveal the next cavern. The torchlight danced on barrels and baskets and neatly bundled pelts. Hung from pegs driven into fissures were long ropes of dried corn and squash: provisions enough to take seven or more people through the winter. It was dry and quieter here, but cold.
"This is how you managed, last winter," Liam said, mostly to himself. Some of the men in the village had been set on driving the Bonners and their Kahnyen'kehâka family members off the mountain, resorting to thievery when intimidation got them nowhere. They had raided the cabin in the fall, finding less than they expected in the way of winter stores. Billy had been at the heart of that trouble, and where Billy went, Liam had gone, too.
Nathaniel saw all this moving on the boy's face, anger and shame and the regret for his part of what had happened. But it was Liam's battle and he could not fight it for him, so Nathaniel went to work.
"Lend me a hand with this." He gestured with his chin to the largest of three old chests, squat and battered. Nathaniel kept his voice easy, but he watched Liam from the corner of his eye, saw the flicker of interest and surprise.
The chest was heavy, and they put it down with a grunt near the fire in the front cavern.
"The Tory gold?" Liam asked. His tone had a studied evenness, his voice cracking slightly.
Nathaniel snorted. "You've been listening to Axel's tall tales again," he said, hunkering down. He gave the lock a twist and the lid opened smoothly.
On the top was a bundle of papers rolled in oilskin and tied: the Deed of Gift that had transferred the land patent to Elizabeth, their marriage lines, a sales agreement for the schoolhouse Nathaniel had built and then sold to her at her insistence, other papers that would argue louder and longer in a court of law if they had to fight again to keep Hidden Wolf. There was a wooden box of his mother's things, which he put to the side. Underneath, a faint shimmering, and Liam drew in his breath.
"Silver," he breathed. "Pure?"
"Not exactly." Nathaniel reached for the empty pack he had brought with him. "It's hard to work it here, but we do the best we can."
Liam's blue eyes blinked. "There is a mine on Hidden Wolf, after all."
"Aye," said Nathaniel. "There is."
"The north face?"
Nathaniel nodded.
"Does the judge know?"
"No. Guess he never went looking for it."
Liam was silent. At his sides his hands clenched and unclenched convulsively.
Nathaniel said, "I'm only bothering with this now because I may need it in Montréal. The silver ain't mine, though."
The boy's head snapped up. "It ain't? Whose is it, Elizabeth's?"
"The mine belongs to the Kahnyen'kehâka," said Nathaniel. "So does the silver. But they won't mind me using what I need to get Otter and Hawkeye out of trouble."
Liam crouched down, his eyes fixed on Nathaniel. "But the mountain sits on land that used to belong to the judge. He bought the patent at auction."
"True." Nathaniel continued working, but he watched Liam's face from the corner of his eye.
"And he passed it on to Elizabeth, and then you married her."
"That's true, too," Nathaniel agreed. "Although it didn't seem nearly so simple as that at the time. What's your point?"
Liam stopped and studied his hands. It was a habit he had that made him seem older than his years: thinking through what he had to say before he let it go. Another thing that distinguished him from his brother Billy.
"Hidden Wolf belongs to you, and so does the mine. You have legal claim and the silver is yours--" Liam faltered, seeing the expression on Nathaniel's face.
"There's more than one kind of law," Nathaniel said. "The way I see it is, if anybody has a claim to the mine, it's the Kahnyen'kehâka."
Liam stared through the waterfall toward the place where the cabins stood. "Does Elizabeth see it that way, too?"
"She does. We'd sign the mountain over tomorrow, if the court would allow it."
The boy swallowed so that the muscles in his throat rose and fell in a wave. "My brother would get out of his grave to stop you from giving Hidden Wolf back to the Mohawk."
Nathaniel shifted his weight back on his heels. He could almost see Billy in Liam's face. He had the same low, broad forehead, high cheekbones, and narrow-bridged nose. On his upper lip and the backs of his hands was the red-gold down that marked all the Kirbys. One day soon Liam would be as big as Billy had been, and as strong. But there was something in Liam's eyes that his older brother had been lacking. Nathaniel said, "And you? What would you do?"
