Bytown

BYTOWN

Copyright 2009 by Steve Wheeler

Smashwords edition

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CHAPTER ONE

The early morning sun threw light grey lines across glistening snow. Perfect straight lines beginning at the base of the maple forest, marching in order onto the white beaver meadow, breaking into smaller patterns of frozen fingers.

Rob Mclean shivered in the wind as he pulled his boots through the crusty snow. He carried two overflowing wooden buckets of maple sap suspended from a shoulder harness which had been carved from a single piece of wood. The comfortable semi circle in the middle of the yoke fit snug on his neck. The weight of the sap was distributed evenly across his shoulders.

He heard bluejays scolding in the bare trees, slowed his pace and controlled the sway of the buckets.

Spring had finally arrived in the valley of the Ottawa, the sun carrying a promise of warmth for the first time in months.

Rob pushed back thoughts of the jobs Cullen had planned for the Spring. He exhaled a white cloud and tried to imagine the meadow on a warm summer evening. His imagination drifted to his uncle's maps and Judith.

He stopped, turned his shoulders and looked around to locate the jays' chorus.

A large crow cawed and flapped across the meadow above him. Silent, dark shapes circled higher up in the blue, hawks searching for their breakfast.

The sounds of the jays stopped, replaced by something similar, distant. Birds? He faced forward and stood still. Not birds, human cries. High, alarmed, afraid. Becky!

Rob crouched to lower the buckets then broke into a sprint, pushing through a clump of bushes, straining to see the sled at the other end of the meadow.

He ran upright, looking from side to side. At fifty yards, it was difficult to focus on the team and sled. He couldn't find his sister's small figure. He forced himself to stop and listen again.

His little brother, Jimmy, appeared from the treeline on his left, pointed directly ahead of himself.

There, she's in there somewhere, Robbie!

Rob ran to his right.

Get Cullen!

He zigzagged past gnarled stumps, leapt over fallen trees. At the edge of the meadow, the first dark wall of trees, he heard his sister scream again. Bush and low branches swatted him when he entered the shadows.

Rob’s worst fear was that she had encountered a bear or wolves but his heart froze when a male shout echoed from the shadows ahead of him.

Barney, Come...hurry!

Adrenalin shot through Rob in a savage rush. He charged toward the sound, tripped as he entered a clearing of fallen birch. He was relieved to see Becky stumbling toward him, arms outstretched, golden hair in her eyes, tears glistening on her red face.

Rob gathered Becky into his arms, held her tiny, shuddering body, tight. He looked over her shoulder at a figure disappearing into the trees thirty yards away. He heard a burst of laughter and the crashing of a body through the bush.

Rob held his little sister away from him and looked her over. Her clothes were torn and she shook with fright, but she appeared to be unhurt.

You'll be all right, Beck...go find Father...you're all right, baby...there's Jimmy and Da

Rob shoved the child behind him and ran toward the bush. The sap bucket was hanging from a maple tree at the edge of the clearing, Becky's blue toque beneath it.

As Rob held his hands up to part the first bushes, he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.

Then he was falling hard to the snow with a weight on his neck and a hand scratching across his eyes and nose. He heard a grunt as the other man slipped from his shoulders and hit the ground.

He and his attacker rolled, recovered. They turned to face each other.

Rob caught a brief glance of the man's bearded snarl before the branch caught him behind the ear. He flew off his feet. Two of them, one hidden behind the tree.

He stretched out his right arm to break his fall.

On his hands and knees, he shook his head and was kicked in the face. The boot missed his teeth by an inch, the foot turning, the heel scraping across his cheekbone.

The moment froze. They heard the sound at the same time. The crack of the musket began a long clear pause. Rob managed to get one foot under himself as he tried to find the eyes of the man in front of him.

The roar of pain finished the pause. He fell back into the snow and saw the man's hat pop off his head and fly away.

Then there was the sound of the branch landing on the snow beside him, a distant bark of laughter and the laboured breathing of his attackers running away. He shook his head again and felt the roar of pain.

He lowered his head and held it still. The sounds of the strangers crashing through bush were replaced by the tattoo of running feet from the meadow.

Cullen Maclean ran past Rob, stopped, ramrod and musket in hand. He faced the bush where the men had disappeared and reloaded the musket in quick, smooth motions.

Jimmy, see to Robbie

Cullen's eyes ranged from the weapon to the forest, his face a dark mask of anger. He quivered like an animal scenting the wind as he examined the tracks leading toward the river. He walked a few paces and bent to pick up the hat which lay on the snow. He poked his finger through the hole in the crown. It was a crude imitation of a gentleman's beaver top hat known as The D'Orsay. Dirty and wrinkled, the rough tanned leather shell was decorated with a cloth band of bright coloured stripes. His shot had been an inch too high.

Y'all right, Robbie?

Rob felt his brother's hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes. He looked up to see Becky running to him, a few feet away.

Robbie...Robbie!

Rob smiled. She tumbled into him. He felt the sting of pain in his cheek as his eyes watered and his nose ran. He held Becky to one side and spat up bloody mucous.

Cullen touched each of the boys on the shoulder, looking at Rob's cheek and swelling eye.

You're all right, Rob?

Aye, it's nothing Rob wiped blood from his cheek with his sleeve. He felt around his right eye and the back of his head with tender fingers.

I was lucky

They turned to retrace their steps to the meadow, Rob picking up Becky to carry her on his shoulders, stopping for her toque and bucket.

They walked in silence until they reached the large, flat work sled.

Cullen placed the musket beside the wooden barrels in the bed of the sled, jumped up and pointed to the back.

We'll finish here now...

Jimmy saw the buckets of sap Cullen had saved through the panic of the attack, in a row by the sled, ready to be handed up and poured into the barrels. He smiled at Rob and walked toward the buckets.

Becky clambered up to sit at the front of the sled and watch her father.

Rob set out to retrieve the sap he had left at the other end of the meadow.

Becky stared at her father, blue eyes wide.

It was Shiners, wasnt it, Da? They spoke English and some other words I couldn't understand"

Cullen stopped, an empty bucket dangling from his hand. He looked at his daughter and swept his eyes around the meadow.

Aye, darlin, it was those cowards...out here...they must be on the river He shook his head and frowned as he leaned to hand Jimmy the bucket.

By the time the barrels were full and they drove up to the barn, it was past noon. The sun had softened the path which led out of the trees onto a field covered with tree stumps. The horses laboured until they reached the road which cut across the flat expanse of another field. This led them to the lower side of the large barn. Their house stood in a grove of oak trees on a hill above the barn.

Jimmy halted the team beside the crude wooden platform they had built next to the fire. Onto it, they would lift the heavy barrels of sap. From there the liquid could be drawn in buckets and poured into large cauldrons suspended above the fire.

The fire was low. They looked around for Catherine until Becky called out. She ran toward a small figure emerging from the woods behind the barn. Her mother looked up from her hunched posture, hauling a large branch behind her with one hand, her other arm folded around a bunch of smaller sticks. Rolph, the big farm dog, left Catherine's side to run in a happy, bouncing welcome to Becky.

Cullen and Rob sweated in the cool sun. They struggled with the large wooden barrels while Jimmy unhooked the horses and led them away.

Becky's chirping could be heard in the distance as she recounted the morning's events and Rolph barked his excitement.

Rob smiled at his mother's approach with Becky.

Cullen saw Rob's face change and looked around.

Catherine's red hair flared around her head in the breeze, her pixie face calm and serious.

She met Cullen's eyes, recognized his unmistakable expression and the rage within him. It was a part of him which she observed and accepted from a distance, nothing gentle or forgiving in it.

She saw the set of his jaw, the anger in his eyes, the powerful, jerky motions as he worked. On the rare occasions he had spoken to her of his past life in the King's army, she had caught a glimpse of that look. It came when he spoke of the necessity of killing. A decision had been made. There would be no changing it.

You're going ... she made the statement.

Aye. First thing in the morning. We'll eat when we're done here, if there's anything. Where's Terry?

Catherine cocked her head to one side.

If there's anything?

Cullen saw the glint in her eyes, her secret impish smile for him. He picked up his side of the barrel, heaving the sloshing weight onto Rob's sore shoulder.

Ow. Ugh... Rob leaned into the barrel with all his strength to hold the weight.

Terry's gone for more wood, that should be enough to finish Catherine spoke over her shoulder. She and Becky threw down the branches and turned to make their way to the house.

They had been at it for almost a week now. Even Becky and Jimmy were tiring of the routine. They still couldn't get enough of the maple sugar their mother poured hissing onto clean snow, but the hours were long and they had tired of doing their parts, gathering firewood, transporting syrup and sugar.

Cullen insisted on collecting only the new sap of the spring because of its better quality. March sap guaranteed quick sales of the syrup and sugar. They had no time to waste prolonging the sugaring off in these days when winter had loosened its grip on the land.

Rob's brother Terry, a year older at eighteen, was as dark as Rob was fair. His thick eyebrows knitted together at the dinner table as he listened to Becky's account of the Shiners' attack. He threw Rob a disdainful look when he heard that the men had been within arm's reach. But the fixed features of his stepfather and Rob's swollen face told him that this was no time for teasing.

Terry said nothing when he and Rob took over the boiling of the sap. They would sit up all night, taking turns dozing off, keeping the fire hot, transferring the processed syrup into containers, topping up the cauldrons with raw sap.

Rob awoke in the cold dawn with a start, his eye swollen and sore. His mother pulled him into a standing position and pushed him toward the house. He had fallen asleep seated in the bed of the sled, leaning against one of the empty barrels. Terry had left him there, stoked up the fire and went off to eat.

Rob shivered in the morning shadows. He washed his face and hands in freezing water, dried himself, made his way to the kitchen where he cooked and ate eggs with cold slices of pork and bread. He ignored everything around him as he savoured his mug of hot, sweet tea, with the anticipation of excitement to come.

Catherine would have enough sap and firewood to keep her and the children busy for the day Cullen had said last night. They would probably be all day in Bytown.

Cullen's practical nature dominated everything in his life, but this attack on his family overruled his reason. In his heart he welcomed it. It would not be a lawful process of justice, but if he didn't give himself up to it, he would be ignoring his instincts, his guts. And since the day the army recruiters had taken he and his teenaged brothers from their Highland croft, he had survived by heeding his instincts and guts. Besides, this justification to release his building anger was too good to miss.

Cullen and Terry cleaned the muskets, loaded them, checked their powder horns and shot carriers as the morning sun lightened the shadows beside the house.

Rob stepped up into the seat of the cutter. Cullen had placed the old family pistol under the seat with a significant look at Rob earlier. Rob acknowledged the compliment in silence, inwardly swelling with pride. It was the first time Cullen had included him in such a serious undertaking.

Rob and Terry were trained in the use of the weapons and Catherine kept a newer pistol hidden in the kitchen for times she was left alone with the children. Leaving the farm, armed for something like this, was rare.

Rob was to receive his own musket on his eighteenth birthday, but for now had to be content with borrowing Terry's or Cullen’s. Cullen loved hunting, but rarely found time any more. Terry was a solitary individual who preferred to spend days alone in the bush with his musket.

Rob was satisfied that Cullen had, at least, brought the pistol along for him, though he doubted he'd get the chance to use it.

The horses stomped and pulled on the traces which Catherine held. She watched Jimmy carry the long leather whip from the ox barn and hand it to Cullen with a pleading look.

Cullen stared into Jimmy's eyes.

Your mother needs you here, son

Jimmy tried to hide his urge to burst into tears. He turned to his mother.

You're needed here, Jimmy. You know that Catherine said.

Her youngest son turned away to hide his disappointment, unable to look at anyone. His brothers ignored the exchange.

Catherine turned to her husband. Her love for him brought a sudden fear of losing him. She willed herself to suppress it.

Be careful of them

Cullen's brilliant smile flowed to her like a jolt of energy.

She went to him and held him fiercely against her. She felt the tension in his hard shoulders, the softness of his embrace. She touched her cheek to his chest.

We'll be back soon Cullen whispered and squeezed her. He bent to hug Becky.

If you're going to town, why can't we come, Da? Becky asked, her arms around his neck. Cullen kissed the blonde head and stood up.

We've got some business, little one. You help your mother. We want all the sugaring done this week

Cullen placed his hand on Jimmy's shoulder and gave him an affectionate squeeze.

You're the man here today, son. Take care of these women for us

Jimmy nodded up at his father, resigned to his fate.

Rob smiled at Terry.

Cullen climbed into the seat beside him.

Rob snapped the reins and the sleigh lurched down the rough bush road as Terry tried to settle himself in the back.

Jimmy walked behind for a few steps, unable to hide a grin as he watched his eldest brother's

silent cursing in the bouncing cutter.

CHAPTER TWO

Sam Morgan shifted his gaze from his wife's wrinkled nose to the scene around them.

The Corktown slum sprawled through thick bush and swamp on the far side of the Rideau Canal. Piles of excavated mud, rock and cleared brush bordered the gash in the earth which divided the settlement of Bytown into two distinct sections, Upper and Lowertown. The Morgans' modern cutter stood on the Upper Town side of the excavation.

Elizabeth, Morgan's wife, and Judith, his daughter, sat wrapped in furs and wool blankets in the comfortable padded seats. Morgan sat astride his horse and took in the bustling scene below them, his mind ranging to the future commercial possibilities of the canal.

Colonel By was producing this waterway to defend against the threat of American invasion. Morgan hoped that the border conflict between the British and Americans would never be resumed. He wanted access to the fast growing markets of the young republic to the south. The Royal Navy was already consuming all of the squared timber he could produce. When his hold on the industries he had planned in the Ottawa Valley was consolidated, he would need this waterway for the shipment of finished wood products.

My goodness, Samuel...the smell...why can't the man come to see you? Elizabeth Morgan was appalled by the stink of Corktown drifting to them across the canal works. She frowned and adjusted her stylish scarf to protect herself from the smell.

Elizabeth glanced disapprovingly at her daughter, Judith. She was sixteen and unable to mask her curiosity as she inspected the panorama.

Morgan's driver, John, watched his boss, held the reins of the cutter and smiled to himself. He was responsible for the safety of Morgan's family and wanted to get the women away from Bytown and up the river as fast as possible.

Morgan's right hand man was amused by the two personalities his boss displayed. The exemplary father and husband, almost genteel at times, and the cannibalistic businessman who was in the process of building himself an empire.

Morgan leaned down from his sleek black mount and smiled into the faces of Elizabeth and Judith.

He'll be coming to visit us, never fear. John'll get you home when you're finished your shopping. I'll be home later, enjoy yourselves and don't buy everything you see

Bye father Judith smiled at him. The strange sights and sounds that drifted to them from Corktown, the activity of the canal works, the spring sun shining on the growing little community; all of it made this visit to Bytown captivating.

It had been a long boring winter under her mother’s regime. She was tired of lessons and the endless tutoring in the social graces. She was being prepared to be sent off to a school in Montreal or Halifax soon. She had no choice in the matter.

To her parents, it made no difference whether she had interests of her own,