Of Strange and Far Places

By Lon Kishiyama

This fictional historic thriller is based on a family legend of two young brothers sailing to the American colonies from Ireland while their father was drunk in a tavern and missed the ship. Since nothing more was known about what actually occurred around 1750 when brothers sailed to the colonies, I wrote a fictional thriller to account for why their father might have been left behind. The loss of their mother to smallpox on their small farm in Wales especially devastated Michael, the older boy. He became angry at the world and at God for taking his mother from him and his brother. His father, also devastated at the loss of his wife turned to alcohol and he all but abandoned his boys. When the family could no longer pay rent on their farm after father deserted his children for the tavern, their crooked landlord evicted the family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lon Kishiyama
• Release date: Jan 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215790809

Book preview

Chapter 1

Morning at the Harbor 1750 (day 1)

The light fog had lifted in the harbor, yet the smooth flat stones that made up the dock were still wet and slick from the dew. It was very early in the morning and the sun had just barely cleared the horizon. Aiden preferred this time of day. He could sit for a moment and enjoy the silence of the morning. It was near solitude before Cork Harbor started to come alive with the clip clop of horse hooves and the clattering of steel rimmed carriage wheels clanking along the stony street. The carriages would bring cargo, passengers, and ship stores to the waiting sailing vessels moored along the harbor seawall. But for now, it was just Aiden, the hungry seagulls, and a few early morning workers along the waterfront. Aiden watched the gentle ripples in the River Lee that eventually led out to the cold sea between Ireland and Wales. He could not actually see the Celtic Sea from the harbor, but he imagined the day when he and his two sons would reach the ocean and sail to the far off and mostly undiscovered land of America. They just had to survive five more days, Aiden thought, then the tall ship Hannah would take them to the far-off city of Boston in the Massachusetts Colony. From there, they would make their way to a new life in a place called South Carolina where land was said to be plentiful and the soil rich for farming. Surviving those five days would be the tricky part though.

Aiden was completely lost in thought when a mangy red and white dog ran up to him and started growling angrily. The dog bared its sharp teeth, glared with coal black eyes, and barked loudly between ferocious scowls. Just then, a stale piece of bread sailed over Aiden’s head and landed in front of the dog. The mangy dog looked around, wagged its tail, sniffed the crusty snack, then snatched up the bread and ran off.

He was just hungry, a familiar voice said behind Aiden. It was his youngest son Patrick dressed in the same baggy and well-worn clothes that he had been wearing since their escape from Wales three days ago. Patrick had just turned thirteen years old yesterday. A hard life and baggy clothes made him appear older. Aiden’s eldest boy, Michael, was 15 and thinly built with thick black hair like his father and brother. He was even grubbier looking than his younger brother Patrick but was nowhere to be seen at the moment.

Where’s your brother? Aiden asked. You are supposed to be keeping an eye on him. Patrick shrugged and looked up and down the old street along the harbor to see if he could spot his mischievous brother.

He was gone when I woke up. Patrick rubbed his eyes and took a bite of the remaining piece of stale bread in his hand. Where were you last night, anyway?

Aiden stood up from the old wooden piling that he had been sitting on alongside the harbor front and rubbed his aching back. There is barely enough room for you two in that hole in the wall storeroom. I slept out in the loft on some canvas. Now, go find your brother. We need to start work soon. Patrick took another bite of the bread and shuffled down the street in search of his troublemaking brother.

Aiden was very lucky to find work for the three of them at the sail loft. They were assisting with the making and delivery of sails for the ships. The sail making business was booming now in Cork. The population had nearly doubled in the city quite recently. Many more passenger and cargo ships were now coming into Cork than ever before. There were also a multitude of tenant farmers whose crops failed due to disease and frost, along with the many young people with little to no prospects in the countryside that were flooding into the city every day. This meant more poverty, stench, and disease, as well as much more crime. After a lot of searching and a lucky break, Aiden was also able to get the small space in the sail loft warehouse that was not too rat infested for his boys to sleep in until they sailed to the American colonies. There really was not enough room for three to stretch out and sleep, but he could squeeze in if it got too cold in the loft at night. Hay, borrowed from a nearby stable along with some rotted and ripped sail cloth, provided for a bit softer bed in the tiny room. Aiden needed to stretch out though, even if the harder wooden floor in the warehouse caused his back to crack and ache the next day. Better than sleeping in the mud and grime, Aiden thought, as they had to do a few times on the way from Wales.

The city and streets along the harbor were waking up now and getting busier. Carts pulled by mules and horses were full of salted beef and pork and were being hauled to the waiting cargo ship holds. After loading the meat, along with barrels of butter and other needed supplies, many of the ships would sail to the British Naval ships that were docked or moored in the harbors at the West Indies near the Americas. The British West Indies included Saint Kitts, Barbados, Antigua, Tortola, and a few other islands. Over time, some the islands and territories changed hands with other European colonizers such as France. Aiden had never been to the West Indies, or anywhere in the Caribbean, and did not know too much about them. He did know that a lot of food and cargo were shipped from Cork to the Americas and nearby islands. Most importantly, he knew that the well to do passengers, as well as some of the poorer immigrants like himself and his boys, were able to get sailing passage to Boston from Cork. They would sail very soon as long as their past did not catch up to them and his oldest son did not get them into any more trouble.

Chapter 2

Sail Making

You’re late, bellowed Martin, the old sail loft foreman, in a thick Dublin accent. I gave you and your boys a chance against my better judgment, then you don’t even show up on time. Sailmakers and their apprentices were already hard at work sewing top and main sails and had been working hard for nearly an hour now. They barely glanced up at the raggedy looking father and two sons. The three were hired to assist in spreading out the heavy cloth sails on the deck, cleaning the sails and tools, and helping with the delivery of the smaller finished sails to the waiting ships in the harbor. Now, get to work or I’ll throw the lot of you back out onto the street where you belong.

Aiden knew it was useless to give the white haired and gruff old foreman an excuse. So he just grabbed his oldest son Michael by the sleeve, and gave him the ‘I told you so’ eyes, and then shoved him in the direction of the tool rack. Patrick had earlier found his older brother trying to pry his way into a locked back door of a bakery. Michael was trying to force a sharp piece of wood that he had found between the door and its frame when Patrick came up behind him and yanked him away. Michael spun violently around. His sudden twisting while Patrick still had a grip on his shirt flung the younger and smaller boy to the ground. Patrick scraped his hands on the rocky cobblestone street as he caught himself just inches before cracking his skull. The younger brother yelled, You can’t do this to us again! There is no place else to run if you get caught again.

I need to eat, don’t I! Michael could still smell the freshly baked bread and pastries inside the bakery and his stomach was growling loudly. Since their mother had died of smallpox, Patrick felt that his brother cared about absolutely nothing and only himself. It was like all of the good and decent parts of Michael died with their mother five years ago. Patrick was younger when she got very sick and sometimes, he had difficulty remembering what his mother’s face looked like. The impact of her death and the pain they felt afterward seemed so much greater for the older boy.

Right after their mother was buried at the churchyard and their father burned all of her clothes for fear of spreading the smallpox, Michael began having fits of uncontrolled anger and rage where he would lash out violently at anything or anyone around him. He would run off for hours and he could not be found by his father and little brother. Often, another tenant farmer or someone from a nearby village would drag him back and demand payment for property that Michael had stolen or destroyed. There were also rumors that Michael was starting small fires in the fields. Aiden told Patrick that his older brother was angry at his mother for leaving him. Patrick thought there was more to it and that perhaps his brother also blamed the world for making his mother sick in the first place. On many occasions over the years Patrick heard his brother screaming ‘I hate you! I hate you all!’ at the top of his lungs to the night sky and saw him flailing his fists at the stars.

Patrick pulled a hunk of stale bread from his pocket that he had saved for his older brother and held it out. Michael grabbed the bread without a thank you and started chomping away. He then reached down to the younger boy and helped him off the ground and began walking back toward the sail loft without a word. On their way back, Michael quickly snatched two apples from a fruit cart in front of a small shop and handed one to Patrick. The younger boy smiled and took the apple, then looked back to see if the shopkeeper would run out to chase them. After a few moments, Patrick decided the coast was clear and he took a bite out of the juicy red apple. Michael could care less whether anyone saw him. He had just about finished the apple down to the core before Patrick took his first bite.

Aiden had paid for passage on the tall ship Hannah for the three of them. Though they had barely had any money left after that. They needed enough coins to make it through the week in Cork and then to pay for passage to South Carolina once they arrived in the American Colonies. To pay for the three steerage class tickets, Aiden sold the pocket watch his father left him along with a ruby broach that belonged to his late wife. Now, he had nothing to remember either of them by. It was the future for his boys that counted the most though, not the past.

The work at the sail loft paid very little. It was something and it gave them a place to sleep. It also kept them off the streets in case their pursuers caught up to them from Wales. After the shove from Aiden toward the tool rack, Michael got to work setting out the sail making tools, although most were just unfamiliar gadgets to him. He could barely tell the difference between a Bench Hook and a Fid. He was learning more every minute and he could at least get the basic tools to the sailmakers and their apprentices when they needed them.

Over here, Fergus, a tall dark-haired man in his late 50s, called to Aiden and Patrick across the loft. Aiden waved and began to walk over to his supervisor who was limping toward the father and son. Aiden had liked Fergus as soon as he met him a couple of days before when Aiden came across him along the harbor. Fergus, with his bad leg, had been carrying a heap of sail cloth to a ship that day and had fallen as he crossed the street. His fall onto the rocky street along the dock was right in front of an oncoming horse and carriage. Without hesitation, Aiden dashed out into the street in front of the very large horse to stop the carriage before it crushed the fallen man. Needing no encouragement from their father, the boys likewise ran into the street to help Fergus up. Then the boys gathered the sail cloth that had spilled onto the cobblestone road.

Upon getting Fergus back on his feet with the sail cloth, Aiden and the boys turned without a word and continued on their way along the harbor front. Fergus was still in a bit of shock at how fast they reacted. Most others in the bustling city would have just let him get run down by the horse and carriage. He called out to Aiden and the boys and profusely thanked them for saving his life. As Fergus was thanking them, he noticed their raggedy and dirty clothes as well as their look of hunger and downright fatigue. It appeared that the three had been traveling far through the muddy countryside and they were about ready to drop.

Fergus could also see the desperation in Aiden’s eyes to provide for his family, so Fergus immediately offered to help them find work at the sail loft. The tall dark-haired man with the limp somehow convinced the loft foreman give the three travelers jobs in the loft. When Aiden asked if Fergus knew of any place they could sleep out of the cold and rain, Fergus told them about him about the small storeroom space in the sail loft. The space was currently empty and unoccupied as long as they didn’t mind sleeping on the floor and with a few rats. It was an amazing bit of luck for Aiden and it worked out great for the week they had in town before their ship sailed. What are a few rats after they had been sleeping in the mud and dirt with the snakes and other vermin while running from the Sheriff and crooked henchmen from Wales? Anything with a roof and wooden floor was a step up.

Michael is already at it and sorting the tools, Aiden told Fergus. Patrick and I are ready for whatever work you have for us today.

Fergus put his hand on Aiden’s shoulder and said, I’ll have you help the lads stretch the sails and your youngest son Patrick can run some sail cloth down to a couple of the ships again in the harbor. Patrick had delivered a few loads of sail cloth and small sails to the ships yesterday and was eager to get back to the harbor. The friendly crew members on the tall ships there liked to talk about their distant and exotic travels and Patrick enjoyed hearing the tales. Patrick, who had only been to Ireland, Wales, and England, could not wait to hear more about their fascinating adventures in far off places. Patrick had also secretly hoped to see the pretty red-haired girl again who was about his age. Patrick last saw her running with a fist full of newly stolen clothes after he had blocked the fat shopkeeper who had screamed something obscene in French while shaking his fist at the fleeing girl. The girl’s long red hair was flowing behind her as she quickly and gleefully glided down the street.

Patrick had heard of the French Protestants, known as Huguenots, that had sailed over from France to seek religious freedom from their harsh King. He figured the screaming Frenchman must be one of those new arrivals. Moments before, Patrick had been pushing a cart full of sail cloth down the sidewalk when he heard the commotion in the store and saw the girl run out toward him. Without stopping, she smiled and winked at Patrick as she flew by him with her hands full of clothes. The screaming fat shopkeeper was awkwardly barreling down the path after the girl and he was approaching fast when Patrick quickly turned his cart sideways and blocked the entire sidewalk. Rather than jump into the busy street full of horses and carriages, the shopkeeper came to a sudden halt and nearly tumbled right over the cart. Patrick gave him a shocked look and a few fake apologies for being in his path. When Patrick was sure the red-haired girl made a clean break, he straightened his cart with a smile and went along his way toward the harbor.

The load of sails and sail cloth today would be along the same route, so maybe he would see the girl again. Hopefully, she would not be on the run this time. Even if he did not see the red-haired girl, he would still be able talk to some of the sailors about their far-off adventures. Patrick’s father would tell the boys about the colonies in America, but it was not from firsthand knowledge like the sailors’ stories. Before Aiden and Fergus had finished talking, Patrick was already excitedly on his way to fill the cart with finished sails and spare sail cloth for the ships with a wide and eager smirk on his face.

Patrick had his list from Fergus of ships to deliver to at the harbor. He hurriedly finished loading his cart within the hour. Patrick dashed out of the warehouse before Aiden could even warn him to keep an eye out for their pursuers from Wales. Michael and Aiden continued with their duties in the warehouse. They were otherwise mostly ignored by the sailmaker and the apprentices. There were several other men and older boys assisting with the sails as well as gathering and cleaning the tools, but they kept to themselves and would barely give Aiden or Michael the time of day. On occasion they would hire a woman day worker if there were no men readily available. The women tended to be better workers and were often friendlier. While the sailmakers and apprentices stayed on at the loft for many years, most of the lower-level day workers would drift in and out and not last much longer than a paycheck or two.

The pay was low, the work was hard, and the hours on the floor were very long. After the skilled sailmakers left for the day, the cleanup and preparation of the sail cloth for the next day would usually continue until late into the night, then they were back at it shortly after daybreak. Business for the sail loft had increased nearly tenfold over the past couple of years with the greater demand from the ships sailing to and from Cork. Aiden had tried to strike up a conversation with one of the sailmakers, but the sailmaker just muttered something incomprehensible and told Aiden to get back to work. The other assistants eyed each other with suspicion thinking everyone was a rival or enemy and would steal what little they had or get them fired. At least the boys had each other to talk to at night and during their short breaks.

Chapter 3

Wales and London

You will find that damned wicked boy and you will bring him back to me for a proper hanging. Do you understand! Yelled Thomas Jones, who was the High Sheriff of Denbighshire County in Wales. The High Sheriff was still quite angry as he spoke to the three burly men who had gathered in the village of Bersham that early rainy morning. And you will find him before Mr. Myddelton catches him and kills him! This needs to be a public hanging, not some back-alley vengeance.

John Myddelton and his men have a two-day head start on us. I think that boy Michael will be dead and probably torn limb from limb by that lot of brutes long before we catch up to him, grumbled Edward, who was to lead the group on the hunt for the boy. There is also talk that men from London are after him for the mess the boy caused there.

You better hope you get to the boy first then, said the High Sheriff as he brushed off the rainwater that was collecting on his shoulders. The people of Denbighshire need to see him hang. They need to know the law will severely punish those who commit murder and arson in my county. I don’t want any more excuses, now quit wasting time and get to it. Thomas Jones found it hard to believe that boy got away from his own lawmen. He was also annoyed that he had to bring in outside bounty hunters. The boy was outside his jurisdiction now, so he had no choice. The High Sheriff abruptly turned from the men, then strutted into the half-burned building directly behind him and slammed the soot covered wooden door.

Edward turned and trudged through the muddy street over to his horse. He then motioned for his two men, Cawley and Robert, to mount up. The local enforcers had failed to catch the boy after he burned down Myddelton’s estate while the wealthy family slept in their large house. John Myddelton was fortunate to wake to his barking dogs. He was able to get his wife and children out of the house before the roof completely collapsed. Michael had also released the prized horses from their stalls in the nearby stables, then the boy went into the village of Bersham and torched the town hall and several other nearby small buildings.

The town hall was mostly made of stone, so it was only partially burned. Many important documents were destroyed including land deeds and the High Sheriff’s Office which was also located in the building. The other buildings, which housed small shops and pubs, were burned to the ground. Unfortunately, a shopkeeper sleeping on a cot that night in the back did not get out in time before the burning roof and walls collapsed on him. The shopkeeper did not appear to have woken up before the collapse, so some said it was the smoke that got him first.

A few of the villagers saw Michael messing around at the town hall and buildings just before the fires started, then they saw him running off into the night. Additionally, Michael already had the reputation as the village troublemaker. That reputation began shortly after his mother had died. Most in the village also knew his father Aiden, who continued to work as a tenant farmer with his boys on the Myddelton’s land after his wife died. They heard that Aiden and the boys were being forced off their farm at the estate because Michael had stolen the Myddelton’s silverware and jewelry. Aiden argued that Michael had been wrongly blamed. John Myddleton hated the little hellion boy as well as his drunken father and wanted them all gone from his land whether Michael was actually guilty of stealing or not. Myddelton could care less if Aiden’s wife died and the father and boys were struggling. The family barely made their rent payments and were letting the land and the crops go to waste by not working the farm hard enough.

Edward and his team were bounty hunters and trackers from the northern part of Denbighshire County. He and his men were all dressed in brown shirts and trousers and looked more like mountain guides than towns people. Much of their tracking was done in the countryside where their attire was better suited. Edward was older and taller than the other two and he had a large distinctive scar on his right cheek. His brown hair was slicked back, and he usually preferred the clean-shaven look. His team, Cawley and Robert, were about five years younger and both had short black beards and mustaches. Since much of their time was spent tracking criminals in the countryside, the younger men hated to take the time to shave.

The team had ridden all night after they received word from the High Sheriff’s messenger that they were needed to hunt down a wanted fugitive before the Myddelton clan got to him. The Myddeltons were not only wealthy, but quite powerful in Denbighshire and the surrounding counties. They owned huge tracks of land in the county and several businesses in Bersham, most of which were now just ashes and burnt ruins along with the tenant farmland records thanks to Michael. Rumor had it that shops and pubs were really fronts for criminal activity. Rumors were that the Myddelton’s piracy connections and sales of stolen and black-market goods were the real profit-making venture.

The High Sheriff also alerted Edward and his team about a London thief taker group known as the Bow Street Runners that were also after Michael. The Bow Street Runners, later known as London’s first official police force, were paid by the government to capture criminals and bring them to justice. There were other privately funded thief taker groups that were not as organized or reliable and were just as often made up of former criminals. The saying ‘it takes a thief to catch a thief’ was popular among the private groups. Edward knew if the Bow Street Runners sent a team outside of London to catch Michael, then that boy must have really pissed off the wrong people. Probably a crime against the Crown or something. No doubt that they had also put a price on the boy’s head to seek the public’s help to catch the boy. Edward and his men would have a lot of competition to catch this troublemaker before anyone else nabbed him.

After a long night’s ride to Bersham, Edward and his men hoped to get at least a few hours of sleep and some food. With at least two other crews in pursuit, Edward knew he had no time to waste. The High Sheriff mentioned that the locals talked of Michael’s drunken father bragging about some land he acquired in the American colonies after his brother who lived in Cork died. That would mean Aiden and the boys might be trying to get a ship to the colonies to claim the land. Edward figured with so many men chasing the boy, the boy’s father would try to get the closest next ship out to the Americas, which would be from Ireland.

We need to get across the channel, Edward said to his team as he pointed in the direction of the Welch coastline. If they are going where I think they are going, we need to get new horses and move fast. We’ll grab some food and supplies on the way out of town.

The reward for this bounty better be a big one, said Cawley who was already exhausted and hungry from the ride the night before.

Don’t worry, it will be worth if we can catch him before the others get to him. Edward pointed his horse in the direction of the stables to borrow some of the Sheriff’s horses. He needed to let their own horses rest, while wishing he could get some shut eye too. Depending on how badly Myddelton and the Bow Street Runners wanted Michael, Edward was thinking he may even get a bidding war going for the boy once they had him. That could mean an even bigger payday for himself and his crew.

Chapter 4

London

About a year after Aiden’s wife Caroline died of smallpox, which was nearly four years ago now, he took the boys to London to see his wife’s younger sister Mary and her near useless husband. Distraught and in deep despair after his beloved Caroline passed, Aiden turned to drinking more and he almost completely stopped working the farm. Aiden was not much of a father to the boys before Caroline died. He barely even acknowledged the children when he saw them. At that time, he at least worked very hard on the farm and he provided for his family. After her death, in his deep depression he did nothing but drink. He barely provided anything for the boys and left them to fend for themselves. The crops rotted on the ground. They had nearly no money coming in to pay for food and supplies.

The young boys had to scrounge food from the neighbors and from the markets in the village while continuing to work the farm on their small parcel the best they could. Michael and Patrick would gather as much of the wheat and barley from their farm that they could carry and then they would take the crops to the village market to sell them to local buyers. The young boys could only do so much on their own. Without their father’s help, they barely made enough to pay Myddelton the rent for the land.

After seeing the boys starving and struggling during his rare sober moments, Aiden knew he could not cope with raising the boys alone. He thought it best to take them to London and leave them with his sister-in-law. Caroline did most of the raising of the boys while he worked the farm from daybreak to sunset. The boys had just started helping more in the fields when his wife died. Before that, Aiden was in the fields for long hours alone and he had not spent much time with them at all. Now, Caroline was gone and he was in a deep sorrow without her. He didn’t even know how to care for the boys, so he decided to just do nothing. When Aiden finally sobered up enough, he put the boys up on his old horse cart with a few of their belongings and they headed east to London.

Mary had hated Aiden from the moment she met him all those years ago. She knew her sister Caroline loved Aiden. Caroline believed his lies when he said that he would take care of her, provide for her, and stop the heavy drinking. Mary knew otherwise and she blamed Aiden for her sister’s death. Many years before, smallpox had killed thousands in England and Wales, but the disease was finally on the decline. Mary thought that if Aiden had not taken her sister and the boys on the trip to Ireland that summer, Caroline would not have caught smallpox and died. After their return from Cork, Caroline wrote to her sister Mary and told her that Aiden’s brother had died of smallpox in Cork, Ireland, while they were there visiting him there. He had gotten sick just before they arrived and even though they returned home as soon as they could, they were already exposed to the deadly disease.

In the letter to Mary about a year after Caroline’s death, Aiden said he was bringing the boys to live with her. Dumping the children off on her did not surprise Mary a bit. Mary was halfway expecting it sooner. Of course, he could not handle raising his own children. He was a drunk when she first met him and that did not change with Caroline’s death. It only got worse. Why wouldn’t Caroline listen to her only sister before she fell for that scoundrel and his false drunken promises, Mary thought.

Mary remembered the letters from Caroline saying that they were barely surviving on that tenant farm in Wales and that they were one bad crop away from being homeless. Now her sister was gone and she would be raising her two nephews in her small London flat when they could barely afford rent and food for just herself and her husband. Though she loved her sister’s boys, Mary was silently relieved when Aiden had to hurry back to Wales with the boys shortly after their arrival. Aiden didn’t tell her the whole story of their quick departure. He only said that Michael had snuck outside the very night they arrived, and the boy had gotten into a bit of trouble in the city. Now there were bad men after Michael. Aiden said they would hurt him if they caught him, so he needed to get out of London right away.

Where will you go? asked Mary as she peaked out the window into the still dark streets.

Back to Wales, I guess. Aiden grabbed their bags and pushed the boys toward the door. If anyone comes looking for Michael, tell them we headed south. That might buy us a bit of time if they are searching in the wrong direction.

It was around 3 a.m. earlier that night when Michael had returned to the small flat and woke everyone by banging on the door. When Aiden opened the door, Michael ran in and quickly closed the door behind him. His clothes were torn and he had small cuts and bruises on his hands and arms. Aiden asked Michael where he had been. Michael just kept saying they needed to leave the city right away. Aiden looked out the window and saw a group of official looking men with lanterns and clubs that were roaming the streets. They appeared to be grabbing and beating the homeless boys sleeping in the streets in search of someone. At that moment, Aiden knew there was no time to question Michael further and they just needed to run. Based on Michael’s past, Aiden knew how much trouble his boy could bring upon them. Aiden quickly started packing up their meager belongings and he told Patrick to get dressed. The smaller boy rubbed his tired eyes and was barely awake. Mary and her husband were confused and also barely awake, but they followed Aiden’s urgent request to pack up some food for the road. Aiden assured them that whatever Michael did, they would leave and not return so it would not come back onto Mary and her family.

The sun was just starting to rise as Aiden and the boys raced through the narrow cobblestone streets to the stable where he had left their horse and cart. Michael kept an eye out for the men that were chasing him, which was fairly easy in the early morning when the city corridors were largely deserted. The club wielding group had apparently moved on and was fortunately nowhere to be seen at the moment. Patrick was still barely awake as he clutched his bag of clothes and was quickly shuffled along the cobblestones with his father and brother pulling him along. Each time he tried to ask what was going on, his father cupped his hand over Patrick’s mouth and told him to keep quiet until they got clear of the city. Two more streets and we should be at the stables, Aiden thought. Michael had gotten into trouble in the village many times before, though he never had men with heavy clubs and fire in their eyes while chasing him. As far as he was aware of anyway.

There’s the stable, Michael said quietly.

I’ll get the horse and hitch the cart. You get the bags and Patrick loaded up. Aiden pulled open the stable door and got his horse out and ready. He then gathered the harness and prepared to hitch their horse to the cart. He was glad to see his horse was already fed and well cared for at the stable. Many stables in London were not so dependable.

Michael had found their wooden cart in the back and pushed it out while Aiden finished harnessing their horse. It was not a very big cart, but it could hold the three of them and plus a few bags. Their horse was mostly a work horse that they used on the farm. He was great at pulling a plow or the wagon when needed to bring crops into town. As a heavy draft horse, he didn’t care too much for a saddle or for being ridden. The stableman came out from a back-room half awake. Aiden paid him for the day he owed. He told the stableman they had a family emergency and needed to depart earlier than originally agreed. After being thanked, the old stableman took the coins and without a word went back to his room and closed the door.

It would take them about two days to get back home to Bersham in Wales. Aiden and Michael climbed up onto the cart’s box bench while Patrick curled up in the back with a blanket and their bags. Patrick was asleep within moments of leaving the stable. Michael felt no guilt or remorse for his actions the night before, though he recalled the stories his father told him on the way to London. Aiden was not good about talking to the boys and he never really took much interest in them. Given the trouble that Michael had gotten into in Bersham over the past year, he knew he needed to warn the boys about the law and order in London. Not really knowing how to talk to children, he just started speaking abruptly.

In London, Aiden had said as they approached the city the day before, You have to understand that the law is much harsher on people for stealing or causing trouble than they are in Wales. In this city, if you steal more than 12 pence, or something worth more than 12 pence, they can hang you.

12 pence? Asked Michael, That’s just one shilling. You can’t hang someone for stealing a shilling.

They can and they have. Aiden slapped the reins on the horses back to speed up a bit. Not long ago, 16-year-old Roderick Audrey was hung for stealing silver cutlery from houses. An interesting story, that was. You might not believe it, but his accomplice was his pet bird.

You’re making that up, said Patrick. How can a bird steal.

Well, Aiden went on, Roderik trained his sparrow to fly into the wealthy London townhouses. Then, with tears in his eyes, he would ask the butlers to let him in to retrieve his bird. When a butler let him in, he would steal the silver cutlery and then he would chase the bird out. After getting away with this for quite some time, people started to catch on. Soon everyone knew the boy with the sparrow was their thief.

Then what happened, asked Michael. It was not often that his father told them stories, or spoke to them at all, so he was particularly interested in hearing what his father had to say.

They caught him when he was 16 years old, and he was hanged. Knowing Michael would think they would not hang a 12-year-old, Aiden added, And Roderick was not the youngest that was hung. Many years back, a 9-year-old boy named John Dean set two barns on fire and he was hanged. They said anyone between 7 and 12 can be hung if they find strong malice in them. Malice means that there is evidence that shows that child knows the difference between good and evil. Both of you boys know the difference between good and evil, so take heed. Especially, when we’re in London.

Both boys were silent after that. Aiden was not sure if he got through to them. He really hoped they would not cause any trouble in London while they were with his sister-in-law and her husband. Michael was a smart boy and probably thought he was too smart to get caught anyway.

Looking back on the conversation they had on their way into London, Michael wished he had listened better to his father then. Michael turned back to see if anyone was following them. Fortunately, the angry officials with clubs were still nowhere to be seen. Aiden had asked Michael what he had done that night before. Michael did not want his father and little brother to be hung for helping a fugitive, so he just said that some other kid set a building on fire, and they were chasing him by mistake. The boy would not look his father in the eye when he blamed another boy. Aiden also saw the soot on Michael’s sleeve and could smell the smoke on his clothes, so he suspected otherwise anyway. Aiden looked back at the city as they departed. He could see low glow from the city’s lamplights in the early morning darkness, but he did not see any huge flames or huge smoke plumes. Whatever Michael lit on fire may have brought ruffians out looking for the boy, though it was not bad enough to raise the city fire brigade alarms and ringing of bells. Rather than continue to press Michael further, Aiden just concentrated on getting the boys out of London and back to Wales where they would be safe.

After arriving back in Bersham, Michael was surprisingly well behaved for awhile. Aiden had eased up a bit on drinking in case the men from London caught up to them. So far it was quiet and there were no rumors in town of strangers searching for a boy. Michael must have still been worried as well. He kept close to their small farmhouse and did not disappear for hours at night as he did in the past. To Aiden’s surprise, he even started helping more in the fields and with Patrick. For a couple of years things seemed to be getting somewhat back to normal. Aiden had even started talking to the boys more and was acting more like an actual caring father some of the time. Then everything went bad.

Chapter 5

Ships in the Harbor

Tell me more about colonies, Patrick said to John the young sailor as they hauled a new sail up the gangway and onto the broad beamed cargo ship. I want to know more about how beautiful and how open the land is there.

I’ve only been to America a few times. Boston is a wonderful city. I’ve also been to New York and to Virginia. Virginia has lots of wide-open country and lots of trees. I hope to visit all 13 colonies someday. John and Patrick placed the sail down on the wooden deck near the main mast. In a few more months, I can start working the sails as one of the topmen. The topmen spend most of their time aloft on the yards. You can see for forever up there on the masts. Once I’m a topman, there will be no more scrubbing the deck or hauling those heavy lines with those waisters and landmen. From the masts, you can also get an amazing view of the landscape as well as the whole world when you approach harbors.

What about the Carolinas in the colonies. Do you know anyone that has been there? Patrick’s uncle had left them some land there when he died of smallpox and Patrick was eager to know more about South Carolina in particular. What is Charleston like?

I’ve never been there, said John. I’ve heard it is the biggest trading port south of Philadelphia. Lots of rice and cotton comes from the Carolinas. I’ve heard Charleston is the fourth biggest city in the colonies too. Not sure if that is true, but I’d sure like to see it someday.

Patrick had only been to the sea a few times when they crossed the channel from Wales to Ireland. The weather was good and the sailing smooth on all of those trips. He had heard of how bad the winter storms could be in the North Atlantic. He also heard of how many of the ships never returned and were never heard from again. Fortunately, he would be sailing with his father and brother before the winter. Even then you never knew when a storm could come up quickly and sink your ship along with all of those souls aboard. John also told him a few tales of pirates attacking the ships. He said the pirates could be brutal and kill everyone aboard and then they would burn and sink the ship after they looted the cargo and all the valuables. Patrick thought it might be exciting to be a pirate. Then John told him that the pirates were hung when they were caught, and many were caught. Maybe being a pirate was not such a good idea after all, thought Patrick.

John told Patrick of his travels to many places in Europe and of his trip to India as well. The English East India Company needed sailors to bring goods to India and to return with silk, spices, tea, and other exotic cargoes. John said the journey was long and hot with many strange and amazing sights to see along the way. He also described how amazingly colorful India was with its many temples and colorful clothes. John was only in India for a little over a week while cargo was transferred. He enjoyed every minute of the bright colors and the many exotic scents of alluring spices. John said he could not wait to return to India someday. Since the voyages to the colonies paid better now, it may be a while before he would travel east again.

I’d better get back. Patrick noticed the sun was starting to go down and realized he had spent way too much time talking with John and other sailors at port. Maybe tomorrow we can talk more about the strange and faraway places you’ve seen!

Sure, stop by early though, John said as he was readying the new sails and checking the workmanship. We sail in the afternoon for Dublin, then to Boston. Patrick said he would try to come early. Then he walked down the ship’s gangway and started pushing his now empty cart back toward the sail loft. He couldn’t help but daydream of the far off places and the sights yet to be seen.

I have something for you, said the redhead girl that he helped the day before. She seemed to pop up out nowhere and she startled Patrick right out of his daydreams. Up close and not on the run, she was much prettier than he remembered from his earlier fleeting glance. She had on a new and very colorful dress, which was probably the same one she had stolen from the French shop owner, Patrick thought. For the first time, he also noticed her beautiful blue eyes and radiant smile. His heart began to flutter as it had never done before. She reached into a small bag she was carrying and handed him three large strawberries. These are for saving me from that gollumpus of a shop keeper.

Patrick laughed and took the strawberries. He was rather fat and clumsy, wasn’t he! Where did you get these strawberries?

Don’t you worry about where they came from. Just enjoy the fresh strawberries as if I picked them for you myself. My name is Claire. She twirled around and said, Do you like my new dress?

It is a very beautiful dress. I’m Patrick. He took a bite out of one of the juicy red strawberries and placed the other two in his pocket for his father and brother. Do you live around here?

Yes, my mom and I are staying just up the way on Blarney Street. Claire pulled another strawberry from her bag and took a bite. How about you, do you live near here? I haven’t seen you around before yesterday.

My father, brother, and I are staying up at the sail loft near the dress shop where we first met. We won’t be there much longer though. We’ll be sailing for the colonies soon.

I’ve never even been out of Cork. Claire took another bite and finished the strawberry she had in her hand. She had seen paintings of the colonies and often imagined visiting America. I’d like to go to the colonies someday, but for now I have to look out for my mother. She likes to drink a lot and can’t always look after herself. She also likes to get into trouble, so there’s that too.

Patrick knew just how Claire felt. His father was doing better now. He swore off the drink for now. But for years, and especially after his mother died, his father drank so much that Patrick and his brother did most of the tending of the farm. They were practically raising themselves. Sometimes Aiden would disappear for days, then just show up and start working the farm as if nothing happened. Claire said her mother did the same. She would just vanish for days, then when she came back she often had many bruises as if she had been smacked around. She would tell Claire that she was a bit tipsy and fell, but Claire knew better. Her mom was a pretty good pickpocket and every once and while she would get caught by the wrong mark and she would get beaten up pretty bad. Her mother was very streetwise and always got away from the mark before they killed her, though. She would also go off and get drunk with a man she met, and they would end up beating on her for some reason or another.

Well, I have to get back to work. Patrick took Claire’s hand and shook it gently. Her hands were small and very soft. It was nice meeting you. I’m glad you got away.

You’re cute. I hope to see you again before you leave, said Claire. Then she turned and pranced carefreely down the street in her new dress. Patrick could hardly wait to see her again.

Chapter 6

Sail Loft

Care for a swig? Fergus held his bottle of whiskey out to Aiden who was sitting in the sail loft on the hardwood floor against the wall. It was quite late and everyone else who worked in the loft was gone for the night. The moonlight and a dim glow from the oil lamp streetlights were coming through the windows. Michael and Patrick were already asleep on their sail cloth and hay makeshift beds.

No thanks, I’ve given up the drink. Although Aiden was tempted as he watched Fergus down a few gulps from the bottle, he stood firm on his sobriety promise. For now, anyways. We had a bit of trouble not long ago and I swore off the whiskey. But you’re welcome to join me here on the floor if you’d like to sit for a bit. I can’t sleep and could use the company.

I went home for a while, but couldn’t sleep either. Thought I’d do a little more work tonight, then I remembered this bottle of whiskey I had stashed here. Aiden saw the discomfort Fergus had with his leg as tried to sit down on the hardwood floor. Fergus noticed Aiden’s gaze and said, "If you’re wondering about my leg, I was hit by cannonball shrapnel at the Battle