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  “Bill, wait up!” a voice called.

  Bill’s thoughts vanished. Turning, he saw the lanky Bob Walton running up the path. He could always share his thoughts with Bob, and he had plenty on his mind.

  “Did you see the rider early this morning?” Bill asked as Bob caught up with him.

  “No, I didn’t,” Bob admitted. “Do you suppose he brought tidings of war?”

  “I don’t know, but I think it’s likely,” Bill responded. “I was so disturbed that I shared my thoughts with Mary.”

  “Did you finally tell her about joining up?”

  “Yes, but I’m afraid I did a bad job of breaking the news to her.”

  “Was she upset?”

  “She threw a skillet at me!”

  “Whew!” Bob whistled softly and then pointed down the road. “Isn’t that Master Johnson?”

  “I think you are right.” Bill nodded, and the two hurried on in silence. They came upon a huge man driving an ox cart heavily laden with produce.

  “Better hurry, boys,” the jolly giant laughed. “There’s news aplenty in town. I warrant you’ll have some business to take care of as well.” Saying no more, the steward of Capri waved and continued his journey east toward Stonewall.

  The men found Capri a mass of confusion and talk. Some said, “Green Meadow is at war,” while others said, “No, Master Johnson is just going to a war council at Stonewall.”

  The recruits assembled amid the bedlam, and a trumpet blast brought order to their ranks. They executed marching and weapon drills with precision. Finally, the troops stood for inspection.

  Commander Barker spoke emphatically to his men. “Gentlemen, we must be ready at any moment now. A council has been called for tomorrow evening at Stonewall. If the verdict is war, as I expect it will be, there will be a mustering of troops and a hard march west very soon. I have instructions from Master Johnson to inform you of this. Make provisions for your families in the event of our departure. There may be little time, so I urge you to act promptly—today, if possible! Make sure your affairs are set in order and your families know what they are to do.”

  Bill scratched his head and wondered, What should I do?

  The men were dismissed, and Bob found Bill among the milling men. “Was Mary coming to town this evening?” he asked.

  “No,” Bill said. “She said she had more important things to think about right now. I do wish she had come.”

  “Hey, there’s my Ella,” Bob said, waving at the crowd. “Come and say goodbye to her, Bill.”

  “Goodbye? Where is she going?”

  “She has an aunt in Waterfront, and we thought she would be safer there. Her aunt has plenty of room. Do you think Mary would want to join Ella?”

  “I don’t know. I’d feel better if she was nearer Stonewall, but I think she was planning on staying with her mother.”

  “Here in Capri?” Bob exclaimed. “But I’ve understood that the women are to be evacuated if the men leave for war.”

  By this time the men had reached a gathering of women who had been watching their practice. A plump little woman with soft brown hair swirling about her rosy cheeks ran to Bob and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, darling, I was afraid we would leave before you were finished with your drills.”

  “And I was afraid your papa would whisk you away before I could say goodbye,” Bob said, laughing heartily and swinging his wife in a grand circle. “I was sure he would want to start right away.”

  “I know, but we don’t even know what the council’s decision will be yet.” Ella pouted.

  “John Stafford will never stand for an invasion of Amity. He loves this country more than anyone else. I am sure he will call for action. Obviously your father thinks so too.”

  Ella suddenly noticed Bill standing discreetly to one side. “Bill Cotton, bless you,” she said as she came and gave him a hug. “I wanted to ask Mary to come with me, but Bob kept telling me you hadn’t told her about joining the army. Does she know yet?”

  Bill blushed deeply as several women turned disapproving eyes in his direction. “I … I told her this morning,” he stammered.

  “Bill Cotton!” Ella scolded. “The poor girl hasn’t had time to accept that yet, and you may need to leave anytime now.”

  Bill turned a deeper shade of red. “I didn’t want to upset her, in her condition.”

  “Her condition is exactly why you should have told her sooner. She should have moved before now,” Ella chided. And then suddenly she changed her tone. “I’m sorry, Bill. I didn’t mean to scold. Do you think she would stay with me?”

  “She plans on staying with her mother,” Bill said uneasily. “I haven’t spoken to her mother about it yet. I really should be getting over there.”

  “They wouldn’t stay here, would they?” Ella asked with growing concern.

  “I don’t know,” Bill croaked.

  “You will let them know about my aunt in Waterfront, won’t you? They would both be welcome to stay.” There was a soft pleading in Ella’s voice.

  “I will,” Bill said heartily. “I’d best be off, but you have a safe trip. You won’t go all the way tonight, will you?”

  “No, I think Father will stop at the Canterbury Inn. He hopes to get that far before dark,” Ella said reassuringly.

  Bill nodded his approval and turned to leave. Waving to Bob, he called, “See you tomorrow.”

  Bill’s walk across town revealed many people packing carts and wagons hurriedly in preparation to leave. A sense of urgency crept into his heart, and he began to run. Mary’s mother lived above a store named Tinker Trumbell’s Toys. Mary’s father had been a toymaker, and his shop had been the joy of every child in town. Since Tinker’s death, Dolly, Mary’s mother, had kept the shop open and had allowed others in town to display their wares on her shelves.

  Trumbell’s store was in a lovely location, set on one of the few paved streets in Capri. Huge cottonwood trees along Orchard Creek lined the street and shaded the houses, from early afternoon until sunset.

  Upon reaching the store, Bill lifted the latch and pushed the door ajar. A tiny figurine rang a bell, announcing his arrival. Matronly and well-dressed, Dolly bustled into the room from stockrooms behind the counter.

  “Bill Cotton, bless me! Where have you been?” The voice was pleasant but demanding. “I’ve been expecting you to bring Mary for weeks. Is she all right? Is the baby about to come? Well, speak up.”

  “I will,” Bill said, laughing, “if you give me a chance. Mary is fine, but she thinks the baby could come very soon. I asked her to come in with me today, but she didn’t feel up to the walk.” Bill’s voice grew serious. “Mother, a lot of people are planning to leave Capri. What are you going to do?”

  “Leave!” Dolly said in surprise. “Why?”

  “Haven’t you heard? There is trouble at Green Meadow, and there are rumors that Amity might be invaded.”

  “Green Meadow.” Dolly snorted in disgust. “That place is always in trouble. I wish it had never been founded. If there is going to be trouble, it will be at Green Meadow. But why should trouble there affect me?”

  “Mother, if Green Meadow is invaded, the enemy won’t stop there. They’ll probably come down the Crescent River and steal or destroy everything in their path. I’ve heard rumors that farmsteads on the Western Slope were robbed and burned to the ground. If Amity is invaded, every person, every building, and every animal is in danger. The safest place to be is near the fortress of Stonewall. That’s why Master Johnson may order an evacuation.”

  “Who does that bullheaded busybody think he is?” Dolly stormed. “Why should Master Johnson tell me or anyone else where to go? I don’t know anyone in Waterfront, and I have no intention of going there, either. If I must leave town for some strange reason, I’ll just come stay with you. Mary is about to need my help anyway.
”

  “That won’t be possible, Mother,” Bill said firmly. “I won’t be there if the army is called out. I’ve joined up.”

  A long silence ensued as Dolly eyed her son-in-law with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and anger. Finally breaking the awkward silence, she huffed, “Whatever possessed you to do something so totally irrational? Don’t you know you have a wife to care for? And she is about to have your baby!”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Bill apologized. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I might have been wrong. Mary’s not happy with me, and neither are you. I truly am sorry!”

  Just then the tiny figurine at the front door rang as the next-door neighbor opened the door.

  “Hello, Bill,” the old man rasped as he shuffled across the floor. “Have you come to help Dolly move?”

  Before Bill could answer, Dolly said sharply, “He has not! This moving idea is ridiculous. We will be perfectly safe here. I, for one, am not going to run scared of a little rumor. If trouble comes—and mind you, I said if—then we will face it head-on.”

  “Those are brave words spoken in the comfort of your home, but what will you say when soldiers break in and hold you at the end of a sword?” the old man asked. “Don’t be foolish, Dolly. Master Johnson is wise to request all who can, to leave.”

  “But what makes Waterfront safer than Capri?” Dolly asked. “Besides, I don’t know anyone there. Where would I stay?”

  Bill answered this time. “The protection of Stonewall is only a ferry ride across the river. Here we have no fortress of stone to slow an attack. There they have both a river and stone walls to keep the enemy out. When under attack, one should always seek the safest shelter. Besides, I just spoke to Ella Walton. She and her mother are going to stay with an aunt who lives in Waterfront. She invited both you and Mary to join them. She said they have plenty of room.”

  “That was very kind of Ella to offer her aunt’s home to a total stranger. She shouldn’t be so generous with others’ goods, although it does sound tempting. But I doubt Stonewall could hold everyone.” Dolly now spoke without anger.

  “Stonewall will be a good refuge for old folks like us,” Dolly’s neighbor said. “I think you should go.”

  Dolly Trumbell’s features hardened. “Old folks like us, you say. Thank you for your opinion, but Mary and I will be staying. Bill, bring Mary with you tomorrow. We ladies will just have to make do without you brave gentlemen, since one of you is running off to war, and one is just running.” With that, she turned and passed quickly from the room.

  With nothing more to say, both Bill and Dolly’s neighbor turned to leave. Well, that didn’t go very well, Bill thought. I haven’t done a very good job preparing either of these women for what might come next.

  All the way home, Bill felt growing frustration as he watched countless families pack their belongings into carts or wagons. I should have made plans weeks ago. Now I don’t know what to do.

  CHAPTER 7

  A Gathering of Leaders

  Only hours after George Greenwold brought news to John Stafford of trouble at Green Meadow, the stewards of Sebring and Waterfront came to the ferries for passage to Stonewall. Now, Stonewall had no particular beauty, but it was very strong and functional. It was built on a small island at the mouth of the Crescent River, and it could only be reached by boat or ferry. The fortress’s great wall encompassed the entire island and appeared to rise straight out of the sea. Centered at the height of the island rose a large, towering house made entirely of gray granite.

  That house was now the destination of emissaries from all over Amity. The travelers brought an air of excitement that had not been felt in Stonewall for a long time. Such gatherings were few, so food and supplies were pouring in for this one.

  The stewards of Sebring and Waterfront each brought a group of men and boys. Few refused an invitation to Stonewall. It was well known for its good food, hospitality, and song. There were no banners flying or horns sounding to announce the entrance of either steward. They came quietly and on foot. John greeted each at the gate and showed the boys to the stables and archery range.

  Rolph Gammel was not only the steward of Sebring but also a sea merchant, and he had sailed all over the world. He laughed easily and told a story a minute. Handsome and likeable, Rolph was soon located on the shady side of Stafford house, carving an apple from the larder and telling stories of lands far away.

  Not only were John and Rolph good friends but their children were friends too. John’s youngest son, Philip, was seeing Rolph’s only daughter, Katherine, in a regular way, and John secretly hoped the two would wed someday.

  Coming to Stonewall about the same time as Gammel was Peter Simone, a large, rawboned famer and steward of Waterfront. Simone was a quiet man, but he loved listening to Rolph’s stories as much as anyone.

  Late in the afternoon, Jeff Cotter, an old cotton farmer from the Southglen district, rode in on a mule. Cotter was turning gray, but he was still as strong as a bull. Most people had a deep respect for his years of knowledge and labor. Though he was not particularly interested in Gammel’s stories, Cotter joined their group and did not dampen their spirits with his presence.

  Ronald O’Towle came soon after Cotter. He joined the storytelling with some of his own. Ronald raised the very finest dairy goats on his farm in Northglen. He traveled widely throughout Amity, promoting and selling his goats. He was young and ambitious but honest in his dealings with people.

  The aroma of fresh bread and roast lamb began to fill the air as the evening meal drew near. Raymond Johnson became the focus of much mirth as he pulled his cart laden with garden produce into Stonewall. “Good old Ray!” people shouted. “He always knows when there is food on the table.” And the charge appeared to be true. The jolly man had an oversized paunch and heavy cheeks hanging down to his double chin. But for all his size, Raymond Johnson was not defensive about it.

  Laughing as merrily as any schoolboy, he shouted back, “Years of practice make a man’s nose keen.” Then he pulled his cart next to the larder and unloaded produce that would be needed the next day.

  John was glad for the festive mood. Nearly twenty men gathered around a table in the great dining hall. They ate spring peas, roast lamb, and freshly baked bread while they swapped stories.

  The relish of good food and story did not diminish, but it moved from the table to the hearth. Chilled cider was replaced with hot cider, and talk continued deep into the night.

  Laughter was still roaring in the great hall when John was informed of a new arrival down by the river. He slipped away from the rowdy group and hurried toward the tug. Even in the dim light, John could see that the rider being pulled across the river had not dismounted. When the ferry touched land on Stonewall’s side, the rider urged his mount through the gates and into the fortress. John could hear the clatter of hooves pounding up the path.

  “Easy there,” John called to the rider. “Who have you come to see?”

  The rider reigned in his horse and looked about in the darkness for the voice. The dim torchlight at the tug had revealed little in the vast courtyard.

  “Do you come for the council?” John asked as he stepped from beneath a great oak tree.

  “I represent James Stafford, son of John Stafford, master of this house,” the rider called briskly. “I’ve a message from James to his father. Haste is needed. May I have an audience with the lord of Amity?”

  “You may, for it is John to whom you now speak.” John stepped onto the path near the motionless rider. “Speak, if you please. Or would you prefer a private setting?”

  Quickly dismounting, the rider dropped to one knee and said, “Forgive me, my lord, I didn’t know to whom I was speaking.”

  “You may rise,” John said softly. “Bring your horse; a lad will look after it. Let’s go inside. You’ve ridden hard and come only hours aft
er Greenwold brought his tidings.”

  A stable boy met the two walking up the path and took the horse to the stables. John led the messenger into the house and slipped through the darkened hallways to a private room. A small fire blazed in the hearth, and its warmth felt good.

  Settling into a chair near the fire, John motioned to the messenger to sit as well. He was surprised to see that the envoy was no more than a youth, but he said nothing about that. “Now, tell me the news.”

  “Sir, Master James expects Amity to be invaded. He has ordered the evacuation of civilians from Green Meadow and urgently requests reinforcements. I would like to start my journey back to Green Meadow yet tonight. What message am I to give your son, my lord?”

  John was silent for a long moment. James and Thomas had both volunteered for duty on the western border, but now it seemed that James was exercising more authority than he should. Stewards were responsible for the people in their district, not some commander of a garrison of soldiers. However, if battle were eminent, the commander of a garrison could exercise martial law and evacuate women and children from a war zone.

  John shook his head. What was happening here? Why would James exert this much authority? John considered how Master Devia had opposed Amity sending troops to aid Gaff at Great Bend last year. That had been a battle with rogue bandits, but many had felt that Jabin was behind the attacks upon Emancipation. With the threat of Jabin in the area, the council had approved sending a garrison to Green Meadow to protect the western border. Devia had objected. He hadn’t seen any need for extra protection.

  John began to wonder, What is Devia thinking? Why wouldn’t he want extra protection? Didn’t he want Amity to be secure? Did Master Devia have a reason to allow an enemy like Jabin to camp on his doorstep?

  Finally, John spoke. “A council has been called for tomorrow evening. The representatives from each major city and village will decide the direction Amity must take. If I could, I would leave tonight, but duty requires that I stay for the council. Will you rest tonight and return to my son with the verdict of the council?”