Arran’s jaw tightened and the muscles in his cheeks twitched. “I’d rather you stayed for Eleanor and Miriam’s sake. If something happens to both of us, where will that leave them?”
A hint of uncertainty flitted through West’s gaze, but then he shook his head. “I was sent to be the feet and hands and mouthpiece of Jesus. Right now, Semple needs me by his side. I must do my duty.”
Frustration pulsed in Arran’s chest, but who was he to argue with a clergyman’s sense of his divine purpose?
“I hope you dinna regret your decision.” Arran had no time left to debate with West. Instead, he noticed Old John standing near the main hall with his wife, the former Widow MacDougal. They stood, arm in arm, watching all the commotion around them. Old John had aged a great deal over the long winter months and would probably not saddle a horse to ride with the younger men. He was slower than usual, though a fire still burned in his gaze and Arran could see the desire in his face to be useful.
“Old John,” Arran called to him as he approached, “I have a job for you.”
The old fur trader lifted his shoulders with a sense of importance. “Aye? How can I help?”
“I need you to guard Eleanor and Miriam, see that they’re safe. Could you do that for me?”
“Aye. With my very life.” Old John would do anything for anyone. It was just his way.
“Thank you, friend.” It was a relief to know that they would be looked after.
Arran did not have time for any other instructions—or to say goodbye to Eleanor and Miriam. He untied Tiberius and mounted the horse. Semple was already at the head of the group who had quickly assembled.
“Are we ready?” Semple called out to the men.
A rousing cheer rose above the chaos in the fort. Arran did not join in the call but made his way to the front near Semple.
Voyageurs, clerks, doctors, farmers, a clergyman, a governor, and Arran. They were Scottish, Irish, French-Canadian, English, and half-bloods. All coming together to save and protect Assiniboia.
“Let us be gone.” Semple tapped his horse with his heels and started out, heading north toward Colony Gardens.
The prairie was wide and barren as they made their way. It was near five o’clock and there were still hours of sunshine to be had in the day. Arran was thankful for the light as he turned his gaze toward the group of riders still making their way toward the settlement. Dust billowed out behind their company as they rode. They had not yet noticed the men coming from Fort Douglas, or if they had, they were ignoring them.
Semple and his men were only half a mile away from the fort when the oncoming colonists crossed their paths. The settlers were wild with fear, and their high-pitched voices were hard to hear until Semple ordered everyone to stop.
“Half-bloods!” several people yelled, pointing to the settlement. “Riding fast toward the river.”
“Not Indians?” Semple asked.
“No!” they cried as they continued to run, not stopping to say more.
Many of them shouted in Gaelic, confusing the riders who did not speak the Highlanders’ native tongue.
“Bois-Brûlés,” said an older gentleman who finally stopped long enough to speak to Semple. He breathed heavily and carried several random items from his home. “Hideously disguised as Indians. Their faces are painted and they’re armed with bows and arrows, knives, guns, and spears.”
“Is Cuthbert Grant among them?” Arran asked, his horse sidestepping beneath him.
“I dinna ken.” The man looked back toward Colony Gardens. “I canna stop. I must get to the fort.”
“It’s as we first suspected,” Arran said to Semple. “This is not a band of Indians, but Bois-Brûlés sent by the North West Company. But why are they headed north, and not toward the fort? You would think they’d be following the settlers.”
Semple sat for a moment, his eyes squinting as he stared toward the north. “These men have a plan and we must be ready for them.” He turned his horse to the first man in his eyesight. “Mr. Burke, return to the fort and bring back all the men you can muster. Bring along with you a fieldpiece, as well. We will wait for you here.”
The horses pranced restlessly as the group of men waited and watched.
Burke nodded and then started to gallop full speed back to the fort.
“We should all return to the fort,” Arran said to the governor. “We will have a better chance to defend the fort with the cannons there. Out here, we are sitting targets.”
“They have not noticed us yet,” Semple said. “We will have the benefit of surprise when we approach them.”
“Surely this is their plan.” Arran needed the governor to see reason. “They have drawn a significant number out from thefort, weakening what little defense we have left. Now that we know who they are, we need to return and keep watch.”
