O'Reardon's Peace

By Thomas Wiegand

Daniel O'Reardon, Irish indentured shepherd and three Irish fey come to the Hudson River Valley.  The people he and his friends meet mould their lives in this colony newly under British control.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas Wiegand
• Release date: Apr 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393614135

Book preview

Chapter 1

Daniel O’Reardon was looking towards the docks of Manhattan when he saw a flash of brown go by.  Turning to the amidships section of the galleon, he saw the ship’s cat being chased by the grugach.  The grugach was a small man-shaped creature only three and a half feet tall.  With wild hair and a skittish nature it had become friends with the ship’s gray tom.  Together they had kept the rats under control and almost eliminated them during the four-month long voyage from Plymouth.  The grugach touched the tiger stripe tom with a lunge of its gangly arms.  Quick as a wink the cat had turned and pounced at the fey little man.  A fast leap up and back kept the grugach out of the reach of the cat’s sharp claws. 

None of the other passengers or crew noticed aught but the cat seeming to chase itself about the deck.  Passengers crowded about the rail trying to get the best look at the land that represented their new hopes and lives.  The crew was hauling in many of the sails to reduce speed prior to docking.  The docks were active on this overcast afternoon in June of 1722.  The ship slowed almost to a stop and was met by a dock crew ready for the hawsers that would tie the big galleon to the new world dock.  Daniel turned away from the rail after a dockhand took the first cable.  He went to the open hatch and down the steep stairs to the lower deck.  There, in the darkness that was only lit in spots by deck prisms, hexagonal glass crystals set into the deck; he went to his hammock and retrieved the small bundle of clothing that was the sum of his belongings.  Lying in the hammock was another small man.  Smaller than the grugach, this man was roughly two feet tall.  We’re almost there, Cullen. 

The little man rolled his head towards Daniel and moaned sickly, Ah, that’s fine.  Now I can die on dry land rather in this storm tossed nightmare.  Daniel smiled at his small friend.  The hob was at his best in and about any home but had never gained his sea legs.  The journey had been months' long torture for the small fey man.  Daniel, showing the adaptability of youth, had never come down with seasickness even in the strongest of storms the ship encountered.

Let us be off.  We’ve got to get off and get the sheep off the ship, too.  Daniel waited for the hob to clamber down from the slung hammock before rolling the hammock up and tying it to his bundle.  Together, the two made their way back to the upper deck. 

Daniel was far from the first person to disembark.  That honor went to the hob and the grugach as they found the attraction of dry land irresistible.  Daniel was the only one to see this.  For the rest of the passengers and crew, the ship’s mate was the first down the gangplank, as he made sure the ship was properly tied up.  The first passenger down was a timber merchant who had spent most of the trip either in the captain’s cabin or his own, the only other cabin on the ship.  Daniel was not the last of the passengers to disembark but followed those passengers who had paid better than steerage rates.  There were also those few that, like the hob, were feeling the effects of months at sea.

Standing on the dock, Daniel looked with interest at this new world that would become his home.  He knew that today he was to meet his master, George Hurd, who had paid for Daniel’s passage from County Wexford to Plymouth, England and finally to the English colony of New York.  For the next seven years, Daniel would call George Hurd master.  It was Master Hurd’s stated intention to follow the lead of another Englishman and attempt to raise Merino sheep in the northern parts of the Hudson River Valley.  Daniel’s work had begun when the sheep had been loaded at Plymouth and would continue shortly as the sheep were unloaded here at the docks on the southeastern shore of the island of Manhattan. 

Deirdre was watching Daniel.  She saw a young friend on the edge of manhood.  For the last fourteen years and some months she had watched him live, work and grow.  Daniel O’Reardon was the last of the County Wexford branch of the O’Reardon family.  Deirdre had watched his family for the last three hundred and nine years.  She was fey.  Of medium height and slender build, Deirdre was not a Daoine Sidhe, one of the noble Fey, but still of higher stature and rank than the other two sidhe that had journeyed with Daniel from the old land.  With ash blond hair and the palest of blue eyes, the mortals of her land called Deirdre a Bane Sidhe or more often contracted the formal title to banshee.

Daniel had similar eyes, pale and clear, they looked at the world from a face that was open and honest with others, yet those eyes held their secrets and defenses as well.  They were eyes that saw what was there to see in the world that all men knew and one that certain bards and few others knew of, save in legend and story.  Daniel’s eyes were more striking as his hair and brows were the darkest black. 

At fourteen, Daniel was small and possessed of a wiry strength that came from hard work in the fields and no excesses of food.  Deirdre knew that he considered her part friend, part nurse and part curse.  The curse was due to him being the only person that could see her most anytime.  The rest of the mortal world only spied her on nights when she was overcome by grief at the death of a mortal in her care.  The first time that Daniel had seen Deirdre was the night he was born.  That night she had been in his parents’ small home watching as Colleen O’Reardon gave birth to her firstborn and then failed to survive the long night hours.  Deirdre had wailed that evening for the loss of the nineteen-year-old mother who only had the fewest of hours to know her son.

Now Deirdre was watching as Daniel waited his turn to disembark.  Also waiting were the two surviving rams and twenty-one ewes that Daniel had been entrusted with caring for on the voyage from that land to this.  There had been losses of livestock and mortal lives on the journey but Deirdre was only concerned with Daniel.

One of the lives that had been lost was that of a man who had a wife and two daughters with him.  It came to light that this was the second husband the woman had lost.  She and her two daughters were Huguenots that obtained permission to emigrate from France via Switzerland.  The first husband had died under the hands of the inquisition.  Now the woman was again widowed.  The burial at sea had left her with a greater debt to repay to the wealthy patron that had agreed to indenture her and her husband.  The daughters were indentured to two other patrons in the area about Fort York.  This was of no matter to the fey but of considerable gossip amongst the passengers on the ship. 

Deirdre saw that Daniel had gained the dock and was waiting for the livestock to be unloaded.  None of the passengers noticed a gap open in the queue as a gasket snapped and released part of the mizzen topsail.  The noise and commotion permitted Deirdre to disembark without hindrance.

Once the passengers were all off the small ship, the livestock was unloaded.  The first off were the two horses that had been pampered on the trip to ensure their safe arrival.  These horses were to be delivered to the governor’s house.  Their fee reflected a relatively large percentage of the operating costs of the journey. 

Once the horses had been offloaded, the sheep were next.  The crew of the ship knew by this time that the rams needed to stay on the ship until the rest of the small flock had been taken off.  One of the crew went into the holding pen.  He was looking for the one sheep with a rope collar and a bell.  This was the flock’s bellwether, the sheep that the rest of the flock would follow.  Getting control of the bellwether was only the first step to a successful debarkation of the flock. 

While the sheep were being chivvied into place, other members of the crew were turning the gangplank into a chute.  The last thing anyone wanted was for a herd of stubborn and stupid Merino sheep to follow their bellwether off the side of the gangplank and into the waters of the East River.  Such an occurrence would likely mean the deaths of all.  While this would supply fresh mutton to some of the families or inns nearby, it was not what the crew was being paid for.

Daniel was waiting at the base of the chute.  The bellwether was at the top.  Daniel waited.  And waited.  And still waited.  Merino sheep are not the brightest of God’s creations.  Finally, the crewman, at the head of the chute, gave the ewe a strong kick in the backside and got her moving down the ramp.  Once, she was moving, her friends and relatives all decided that the ship, with its pitching, rocking and tarry smell was no longer where they wished to be.  The scent of land and grass enticed them to attempt to get off the ship as quickly as possible. 

The resulting chaos had crew shooing sheep away from the rails all over the deck.  A few of the herd discovered the chute and saw their bellwether heading down.  Suddenly, all of the sheep were lining up, jostling and baaing to go down the chute. 

At the base of the chute, Daniel was almost bowled over by the bellwether.  Quickly stepping to one side, he directed the ewe to a nearby holding pen.  A longshoreman was keeping the gate open and staying out of the way of the herd.  Considering the chaos on the deck, the crew was amazed to see the ewes neatly follow the leader once they were moving.  What they couldn’t see, Daniel could.  The grugach had taken charge of the herd and with its fey abilities directed the herd away from the dock’s edge and into the pen.

The rams were next.  The first was offloaded with no trouble.  Into a separate pen it went.  The second was another matter.  Afterward, Daniel would insist that it was no accident that the second, a yearling ram had the misfortune to break its neck struggling against the rope that was pulling it out of the cargo hold.

As a young man barely beyond childhood, his word would not be valued above that of the mature voices that claimed the incident to be completely unforeseen.  Being an indentured servant also made it pointless to argue the matter with the freeman sailors that loudly declared their remorse for the loss of the ram.  Daniel thought it highly suspicious that the crew suddenly had a free meal of young, tender mutton with which to celebrate their successful crossing of the Atlantic.

With the ewes and the remaining ram penned, Daniel looked about to see if he could find his new master.  Back in County Wexford, Daniel’s lord of the manor had sold Daniel’s servitude to a man named George Hurd.  Daniel knew that his old lord and master had wanted to be rid of a boy that the rest of the tenants called strange.  The lord, Lord Lindsay, Earl of Comstock wanted a quiet and productive estate in Ireland.  His instruction to the manor’s manager was, Keep the profits high and the troubles low.

This meant that the presence of a boy that unsettled the rest of the peasantry and whose mere presence was cause for complaint had to be removed.  Through a series of mutual friends, acquaintances and business partners, the manager had obtained a permit to emigrate for Daniel and sold his services to George Hurd, a landed farmer and colonist in the colony of New York.  Hurd was to house and feed Daniel in addition to fronting the cost of transport from County Wexford to the colony.  In compensation for these costs, Daniel would serve Hurd as shepherd and general servant for seven years.

Daniel had been told that George Hurd was a giant of a man, tall and large in build.  Looking about at the men on the docks, the youth saw no one that fit that description.  What he did see were stacks and piles of goods.  The galleon was continuing to offload dry goods now that all of the livestock was ashore.  Coming into the colony were tools, foodstuffs, cloth and fine clothing for the richest of the settlement's population.  There were hempen ropes, saws both large and small and other implements meant for a new lumber mill. 

And the people.  There were all sorts of people on and near the docks.  One hundred and thirty-six paying passengers had just debarked from the Trader’s Promise, the galleon that Daniel had traveled on to arrive in this new land.  Most were indentured servants or soldiers going to new postings.  There were a few, like the lumber merchant who had paid their own way to the new British colony.  Manhattan had been in English possession for about sixty years.  There was still a major Dutch influence in the names and signs lining the dock and nearby buildings. 

Awaiting the galleon were stevedores and dockhands.  There was much to be done to ready the ship for its return passage.  A storm just before port had ripped the mizzen mainsail.  This storm had pushed the Trader’s Promise, as the ship was called, far to the north and back out to sea, making the crossing another two weeks longer than anticipated.  The ripped sail had to be repaired, ropes spliced and most of all provisions replenished.

None of this was important to Daniel.  He was charged with the care and delivery of a flock of sheep and himself to George Hurd.  With the sheep in the holding pens, the young man climbed to the top of the pen and looked for his new master.  It didn’t take long for him to spot a man that was head and shoulders taller than the crowd watching the newly arrived ship dock.  Pushing his way through the crowd as the galleon had broken the waves, the large man headed directly for the pens. 

The first impression Daniel had of Hurd was immensity of size.  Over a foot taller than the young man and easily more than twice his weight, Hurd was clean-shaven and roughly dressed.  This man was not in town for formal celebrations or business.  He was here to work and ensure that his property had finally arrived.  Having waited an extra two weeks had not pleased the Englishman.

Hurd had been waiting in a nearby tavern for the trader out of Bristol to dock and begin unloading.  Knowing that this would take some time, he didn’t bother to rush to meet the ship.  He finished his drink and settled with the tavern keeper before heading to the pens where he had arranged for his livestock to be placed.

Nearing the pens, Hurd saw a boy standing on the fence separating two of the pens.  The boy was short and scrawny but alertly looking about.  Once the boy spotted Hurd, he jumped down from the pen and looked to his clothes.  Straightening the battered garments as best he could the boy awaited Hurd’s arrival.

You Daniel O’Reardon?

The boy looked up, very far up.  Yes sir.  I am.

Looking him over Hurd said, Well, you’re not much to look at, kind of small.  But, you’re mine now and for the next six years and eight months or until your passage is paid off.  I’m George Hurd.  You will call me Mister Hurd or Sir until I tell you otherwise.  That clear?

Yes sir.

Good.  Now let’s take a look at these sheep.  I purchased thirty ewes and two rams.  What were our losses on the trip over?

Together the two turned to the flock.  Daniel said, We lost four ewes to the passage.  The yearling ram was just killed by falling off the ramp and breaking its neck as they tried to unload it.

Fine, I’ll talk to the captain in a moment.  Show me what we’ve got that survived.  An inspection of the flock and the surviving ram showed that Daniel had been attentive to his duties during the crossing.  The sheep were healthy and their wool was thick.  When the master and servant had finished their work, it was nearing noon.  Hurd told Daniel to wait for him at the pens as he went to discuss the flock’s losses, in particular the loss of the ram, with the ship’s captain.  After the discussion, they would get lunch and prepare to travel to Hurd’s grant on the upper reaches of the Hudson River.

Daniel looked after his new master as Hurd walked toward the ship from which he had just disembarked.  Hurd was definitely a big man but he hadn’t blamed Daniel for the loss of the sheep in transit.  Daniel took this as a good sign.  His last master or land owner, in County Wexford, would have beat Daniel at the least and possibly had him jailed for the loss of property entrusted to his care, the same as if Daniel had stolen, killed and eaten the sheep.

A soft voice near him said, That’s the new man, the man that is going to work you and keep you for the next seven years.  How are you going to be able to take this man’s orders?  Is he a beater or will he starve you?  Where are you going to sleep, eat and live?  What are the next years going to hold for my young friend, Daniel O’Reardon?

Deirdre had quietly stepped up next to Daniel.  Without really looking at the banshee, Daniel said, I will do what I have to.  This is a new land and new people.  I can make my name mean anything.  The people here don’t know from fey.  They don’t see you and I don’t have the reputation for talking to the wind.  I’m mighty glad that you came.  A friendly face is always a boon.  Forgive me if I don’t acknowledge you in front of others.

Oh, and I expect that, my boy.  Just you realize that this is a new land and the dangers here may take many forms.  You nor I nor your friend Cullen nor even the grugach know what we will encounter.  Be a friend to those that offer friendship and make not quick and easy enemies.

Yes, Deirdre.  We’ve had this talk many a time on the passage and e’en before.  Speaking of Cullen and the grugach, where are they?  Daniel looked about once more.  Neither of the smaller fey was in sight.  A noise from the sheepfold drew Daniel’s attention.  There tucked a corner as if seeking shelter from the winds of civilization, such as it was on this island, was the grugach.  Cullen was not with it nor anywhere nearby.  Daniel was not exactly worried for the hob but a bit concerned nonetheless.  Deirdre’s warning was not in jest or without merit and Daniel knew what troubles the hob could find or cause.

Where was Cullen?  That was the question in the little hob’s mind as well.  Oh, he knew well enough where he wasn’t.  But, where was he?  He was not home in County Wexford in the small wattle and daub home that had housed the O’Reardon family for centuries.  The old family home had been built and rebuilt but had stayed the same for all of the repairs that had been done to it.  Cullen most definitely was not on the tossing, turning, stomach swinging and misery making ship that had brought him and the others to this new place.

Looking about from the low height of his natural stature, Cullen saw many bodies and legs but not much more.  Working his way to the end of the dock, the hob found stacks of furs like he had never before seen.  There were crates and boxes and all manner of goods to be loaded on to the beastly ship.  Height is what the hob wanted and those crates would give it to him.  Quick as a squirrel after an acorn, the little fey scaled the stack.

The dirt streets that he could see were similar to the lanes that ran across the countryside in the county back home.  What was not the same were the houses.  These were a mix of wood and stone built.  For a country living hob, attached to a small family, there were too many of them.  However, there was one thing that didn’t change.  Just a few buildings away was a pub.  It had a painting of a blue bird hanging over the door.  Cullen knew that he would be able to get something to settle his stomach.  It was still telling him how unhappy it had been.  Ale was just the thing a hob needed to cure what ailed him.  What better place to find ale than in a pub, a public house, a tavern?

Daniel couldn’t find his friend.  A small man would be easy to miss in the crowds working on the docks and moving about in the street.  The young man once again climbed onto the pen to get a better view of his surroundings.  He couldn’t see any small figures in a red waistcoat and heather tweed coat anywhere.  What he did see was a satisfied looking George Hurd returning from the ship.

Hurd was almost eye level with his indentured servant as Daniel had only climbed partway up the fold’s fencing.  He said, We can leave the sheep here while we get some lunch.  Then we need to drive them up the street to another dock where the ship that will take us to Kinderhook is going to be this afternoon.  We leave with the morning tide to go up river.

Yes, sir.  And where shall we be eating, sir?

We’ll go to the Blue Dove.  You can see its sign from here.  I want to talk to you about your past so this time you shall eat with me.

Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.

Chapter 2

The tavern was a two-story building made of stone and timbers.  It had a thatched roof that, to Daniel’s practiced eye, needed some patching.  He thought that the roof wouldn’t leak to badly had it been raining but that the owner and occupants of the upper rooms would be happier with a roof that wouldn’t leak.  But, as Master Hurd was not asking Daniel his opinion on the state of the roof, Daniel remained silent.

The yard was mostly grass with some flowers about the base of the inn’s front walls.  There was a cobblestone walk from the dirt street to the door, only twenty feet or so.  The door to the tavern was open to welcome the noon hour and the customers it would bring.  There were windows on either side of the door, which were also opened to the air.  A breeze brought the scents of roasting meat and a sweet tang of apple cobbler.  Daniel’s mouth began to water in anticipation.

Stepping inside the Blue Dove, Daniel saw two long tables on either side of the door taking up the majority of the floor space.  A few small tables were along the edges of the room.  There were fireplaces, currently not in use, on either side of the room.  A bar filled most of the back wall.  Two doorways opened off the room, one leading to the kitchen, the other to stairs to the guestrooms on the second floor.

The long tables were filled with diners enjoying their lunch.  By dint of size and presence, George Hurd obtained space at one of the table for himself and his newly met shepherd and servant.  Seated, Hurd told Daniel, You’re to eat what I order for you.  In the future you will eat with me as we work together or what I supply you and what you forage while tending the flock.  I want you to be healthy enough to do a man’s work.

Daniel replied, Yes, sir.

The serving woman came to the table.  Hurd ordered.  It wasn’t long before both men were eating roast duck, rye bread, onions and potatoes with ale to drink.  Daniel looked about the inn as he ate.  The tables were sturdy with benches to sit upon.  Exposed rafters were dark with smoke but the place was clean.  The other patrons had the look of merchant types.  The dock workers would bring their own meals to eat at the job.  There wasn’t much talk from Hurd, as the food demanded their attention.  Once the lunch was finished, Hurd ordered the apple cobbler for both of them and looked at his worker.

Well, young Daniel O’Reardon, where do we start?  I was told that you’re a sheepherder.  I know that you come from Ireland and that you don’t have much in the way of money or property.  Otherwise we wouldn’t be in this relationship.  What I want to know is what else can you do?  I need to know what you can do well, not so well and not at all.  Talk to me, boy.

Daniel ducked his head a bit and when the silence of Hurd’s expectations lengthened, looked at his master.  That which has to do with sheep, that I can do.  I can thatch a roof and do a small bit of carpentry.  That which I needed to do to keep a roof over my head and walls about me.  I know sheep, their handling, shearing, breeding, lambing, castrating, slaughter and butchery.  I can work a garden or field, plow a straight furrow and swing a scythe.  I’m small but I can work the long days of summer.  I don’t know ironwork or any part of a forge.  I can tend small cuts and knocks, cook a little and sew enough to patch my clothes.  I cannot weave or make clothes.  I guess that’s about it, sir.

So, you know the works of the field.  What about family?  You have any?

Daniel paused in an attempt to figure out what his new master really wanted to know.  Looking about the room he spotted Cullen seated next to the nearer fireplace.  The hob had snitched a bit of roast venison and an onion.  Daniel thought, There is a member of my family now.  Who would believe me?  Instead he tried to get away with the shortest truth he could. I have no living relatives.

Hurd looked at him with expectation.  It was obvious that he was not going to be satisfied with such a succinct answer.  The silence between the two lengthened.  Finally, the pressure was too much for Daniel.  The need to fill the void made him add, My mother died in giving birth to me.  My father died last year.  I had a half-brother but he’s gone too. 

Hurd seemed to accept this at least for the moment.  Returning his attention to the cobbler before him, the big man finished his last three bites and said, Right, time to get to it.  There’s sheep to move and lodgings to secure.  He pushed away from the table and headed for the door.  Daniel scooped a last bite and followed, leaving over half the cobbler on the plate, knowing that the hob would be sure to clean the plate before the serving woman would reach it.

Deirdre watched the two mortals enter the inn.  She had been standing with Daniel when his new master had returned from the ship.  Now they were heading to a repast that the banshee did not need.  She would wait for her young friend to return.  In the meantime, she opened her senses to this new land where she would be making a home.

Young was not the proper word for this land.  Neither was new.  It might have been fresh, but not in this immediate area.  There was a scent on the air of freshness.  Waters that were pure, trees that grew tall and strong, these informed the breeze of their presence not too far away.  Locally, there was a scent of death.  This scent Deirdre knew well.  Yes, a young ram had just died but that was not all of the myriad flavors and textures to this aroma of mortality.  There were fish and mollusks that were daily offered up to the needs of the populace.  Beasts and birds of the fields and the wild contributed willingly and unwillingly to the lives of men.  But more than this, there was a faint yet tangible taste of the violent death of man by man that lingered in the vicinity. 

As she filtered and identified the olfactory assault, Deirdre also heard a sound that to most mortals would have been beyond their ken.  She turned to the sheep pen.  The grugach was huddled in the corner of the pen, keening.  A wilder kind of fey, it was unable to handle the rush of sensory overload that the closeness and density of the human population.  Her innate sense of grief allowed her to understand the terrors that were shaking the grugach’s self-identity to its core. 

A wood and wilds spirit, the grugach as a race did not interact with mortal man often.  This one had developed a relationship with Daniel O’Reardon over the course of the boy’s life.  Daniel was the only mortal that could perceive its presence and he was unfailingly courteous to the wild man.  Deirdre had watched as Daniel had won the grugach’s trust and developed a relationship much like that between a man and a semi-tamed wolf, his willing companion in the hunt but never to be confused with a simple, domesticated hound.  The grugach liked to keep Daniel’s company but only on occasion.  Other times were spent in whatever pursuits a creature of the field and forest would have.  Over the years, the grugach had grown almost proprietary towards the flocks that Daniel tended.

In a soft, soothing murmur, Deirdre spoke with the grugach.  Though the wild fey did not speak, it was well known that they clearly understood the languages of the greater fey and mortal man.  Ah, yes.  It won’t be long now.  Daniel will be coming and you and he will take the sheep to fairer pasture.  There will be meadows and streams, fish to catch and coneys to chase.  This is a fresh land.  Can you hear it, feel it calling to you?  There is a wildness to it that has been tamed and fenced in the old land.  Wait but a bit longer.  That’s it, my friend.  It’s a fine day and we shall be soon on our way to a new demesne.

Much as a quiet, confident voice will calm a skittish colt or nervous hound, Deirdre’s words worked on the grugach.  Before long it had uncurled and was, if not at ease, at least taking an interest in the ewes in the pen with it.  The grugach mingled with the ewes as if checking their count and condition.  It moved with ease through the sometimes stolid, other times skittish animals.  The sheep milled about the pen; there was no water and no feed.  This was unusual.  As far as they could remember, as much as they could remember, walls meant feed and water.  Here there was none.  They bumped the walls and snuffled along the ground.  No luck, in most circumstances the herd would have gotten upset.  With the grugach for company though, they remained calm.

Cullen noticed Daniel and George Hurd long before Daniel spotted him.  When they left the tavern, Cullen lingered only long enough to snatch the last of the apple cobbler and put a charm on the bread dough that was rising in the kitchen.  It was the hob’s nature to give in equal measure to that which he received.  A few dregs of ale and a bit of cobbler earned a minor short-lived charm to ensure the successful baking of fresh oat bread.

He followed the two mortals in time to see them reach the sheep pen.  Near the pen he saw Deirdre.  She was standing in a relaxed posture, listening to whatever the big man was saying to Daniel.  Daniel in turn picked up his belongings and followed Hurd away from the pen and into the town.  Cullen waited for them to pass him and tagged along. 

He said, So and where are we headed?  I would think that your new master wouldn’t wish to leave his sheep unattended there for too long.

Daniel answered the hob by asking Hurd, This family we’re staying with for the night, you said there name was what?

Hurd replied, The Van Der Bolts.  They have a small farmstead further north on the island.  We shall stay there but move the sheep early in the morning.

The hob trotted along the dirt streets, easily pacing the mortals.  They were headed inland, which was west and north when they arrived at a street paved with cobbles.  At this point Hurd pointed north and they proceeded in that direction. 

Eventually, the men arrived at a small house in the midst of a large farm.  Made of stone blocks ranging in size up to a foot long and eight inches high, the house had three dormers on the second floor.  The roof was tiled in red; the windows were shuttered in green.  In the yard about the house the there were geese and on the front step lay a dog of indeterminate breed.  Of the five hundred homes currently on the island, this was one of the few outside the walls of the city. 

The home was near a lake in the middle of the island.  The lake was not very large but it supplied the farm with water and a place to cool off in the summer months.  Now, in early summer, the days were not too hot.  There was a breeze coming out of the west over the exposed outcrops of rock.  There were some of these showing through the cleared fields about the house and evident by the gaps in the forestation of the area. 

Cullen thought that it looked wilder than their former home in Ireland but not too dissimilar for all of that.  He felt it likely that the homestead would be welcoming to a hob for at least an evening.

As they neared the gate in the low, rough stone wall about the homestead, Daniel saw a man unlike any he had seen before.  This man was shorter than Hurd, as most men were, and taller than Daniel, which made him of average height.  What was different was the man’s skin was dark.  Darker than any that Daniel had seen before.  Daniel had lived his life primarily in the out of doors and knew how the sun could darken a man’s skin and the wind and rain could toughen it.  This man was darker yet, a brown color almost as dark as the weathered briar stick his father used to carry.  The man had tightly curled hair and a flattened nose, with lips that were fuller than Daniel had seen ere that moment.  He seemed to be in his late twenties or early thirties.

Hurd called out, Mordecai, is your master home or in the fields?

The dark man looked up at Hurd’s words.  He smiled and said, He’s in the fields, Master Hurd.  Look beyond the cherry trees, I believe that he was checking on the wheat.

Hurd replied, My thanks Mordecai.  This is Daniel; he’s here to work for me.  The black man nodded his head in a knowing manner to Daniel. 

Daniel replied with an unsure nod.  Then he looked to Hurd for directions.  Hurd told him, Mordecai is from Africa, and he is indentured to Alain Van Der Boldt just as you are indentured to me.  I want you to ask him where to put your belongings and help him with any chores around the house until supper.  Hurd looked back to the other servant.  Mordecai, how much longer on your bond?

I have only a year and four months to go.  Then I will have a stake and be ready to live further up the island.  I understand that the Dykmans are seeking more settlers for their grant or I may cross the river and take an offer that Jonas Bronks has made me.  I wouldn’t mind living in the Bronks grant.

Well, that time shall pass quickly I’m sure.  I’ll be back in a while.  Please show Daniel where to put his things and then he will help you.  We’ll be getting the sheep tomorrow.

Yes sir, and thank you Master Hurd.

Mordecai turned to Daniel and said, Greetings young man.  Inside the house we’ll find you a place to store that gear.  Where are you from?

Daniel answered as he followed the other servant, County Wexford, that’s in Ireland.  Near England.

Yes, I know where Ireland is.  They teach geography here as well as reading and writing and some ciphering.

You know how to read?

I can read and speak in English as well as Dutch.  I signed an extra three years to my contract with the Van Der Boldts to get the extra learning and a good sized stake when I set out on my own.

Daniel said, Oh.  Do you like this place where you now live?  Before this I had barely traveled to more than a town market fair.  Although, what I’ve seen so far is green and rocky much like Wexford.

I’ll tell you.  It took some getting used to.  This is much colder than where I grew to your age.  Then the Dutch took me from my country and brought me here.  Here I first learned Dutch and later English.  This land is plentiful and it has a green beauty that the savannahs of my old home can’t match.  The two servants entered the house.

Cullen had followed his friend and the new master across the island to this strange homestead.  It was clean and neat but not hob clean or hob neat.  Cullen looked upon the house with its stone walls and dormered roof and thought that a family that was without a hob was poor no matter how much money, land and property they had.

Supper was a generous affair considering the time of year.  Meat was available in plenty; fruits and vegetables in season were also plentiful.  Only the out of season items were scarce or not available even in a preserved form.  The Van Der Boldts served a light meal for supper, as the noon dinner was the major meal of the day.  Fresh bread with homemade cheese, wild strawberries, mulberries and a salad of greens, carrots and radishes along with slices of a honey cured ham made the meal.  Mead and ale were available to drink. 

Cullen ate well on what Daniel passed to him.  The early summer evening was soft with a red glow in the western sky promising fair weather for the next day.  Alain Van Der Boldt’s family consisted of Alain and his wife Alma, two sons and three daughters as well as Mordecai and his wife, Sarah.  Sarah was a freewoman who had chosen Mordecai for a husband a year before his initial servitude would have been fulfilled.  The marriage had led Mordecai to the decision to indenture for the extra time to build up his stake.  As yet the serving couple was childless.