“For now. See that the men are armed. I do not want anyone hurt.”
Every male colonist in Assiniboia was always armed. It had been their way since the beginning.
Arran and Robertson left the governor’s office, but Arran paused in the common room as Robertson walked outside.
Eleanor rose from her place at the table. She set the baby to her shoulder and patted her gently on the back. “Is all well?”
Things were not well, but once Duncan was in custody, things would get much better. He didn’t want to concern her with his problems. The less she knew about the difficulties around her, the better.
“Aye.” He put his hat on and walked toward the door.
“Arran,” she called, making him pause.
He turned to look at her, his name a bittersweet sound on her lips.
Her eyes were so large and troubled. If they had been at St. Mary’s Isle, he would have gathered her in his arms to ease her worries. But they were no longer in Scotland, and he no longer had the privilege of comforting her.
“Could we talk?” she asked.
One simple request, yet it held far too much weight. Wasn’t it her flowery words that had made him lose his heart—and his head—to begin with? He couldn’t risk such a thing again. “I have business to attend to for the governor.” With that, he slipped out the door and met Robertson, who was speaking to some men in the yard.
“I will rouse James,” Arran said to Robertson. “If you’ll gather the other men.”
Robertson nodded and turned to the task.
Arran strode to the row house, bending his head against the cold wind.
As the chief factor of the Hudson’s Bay Company post at Fort Douglas, James was in charge of overseeing the work of the voyageurs. He ran the company store and traded with the Indians who brought in their furs throughout the winter. In the spring, the voyageurs would take all the furs to York Factory and bring back the trade good items used to purchase the pelts from the Indians.
With the change in the weather, James had turned his focus from the settlement to the store and Arran knew he would find his friend there now.
Arran walked into the store at the end of the row house. James stood behind the counter with the trade good items, a ledger spread open before him. He was alone in the store, but a pile of furs at his left hand indicated a recent visit from neighboring Indians.
“What can I do for you?” James asked as he looked up from the ledger.
“Semple just ordered the arrest of Duncan Cameron.”
James nodded. “Long overdue.”
“I need to gather a group of men, and I want you and Archie to be among them.”
“Aye. I’ll do what I can.”
“Let’s be ready to go in a quarter hour.”
James didn’t say another word but closed his ledger and took up his gun.
Arran left the row house and found Robertson. In no time, they were ready to leave Fort Douglas with their small army.
The North West Company’s Fort Gibraltar sat less than a mile to the south. As soon as Arran and his men left Fort Douglas, they would be seen by the Nor’westers, but it wouldn’t matter. Duncan would have only a handful of voyageurs in the fort with him. They, like the Hudson’s Bay Company men, would trade with the Indians throughout the winter. Any fighting they planned would not happen until spring or summer, as it had in the past, when the trading was at a minimum. They would assume Arran and his men planned to do the same.
It didn’t take long to reach the fort. The gates were open for trade, so Arran and his men walked in without announcing themselves. Fort Gibraltar was a handsome fort with a large store and a clean yard. A porch stretched the length of the front of the main building and was painted a jaunty red.
Duncan came to the door of his trading post. He stood without a jacket, his arms crossed, as he watched them approach. He was at least fifteen years older than Arran and had treated him like a child from the moment they’d met. But Arran was now a man of thirty. He was no longer a child to be used as Duncan’s pawn. In fifteen years, he had learned a great deal about men like Duncan. They liked to use their authority to push others around. They were cunning and charming, but when it came to fighting, they rarely dirtied their hands. Duncan would rather use his words and intelligence to win a battle.
Today, Arran and Robertson would take him by force, and he doubted Duncan would put up a fight. They would have done it long ago, if they’d had the authority.
Duncan did not look worried. Instead, he wore a mixture of curiosity and boredom. “What brings you to my post?” he asked as he leaned against the doorframe.
