exercises at which he thrust and slashed while balanced on the bowsprit, the captain keeping a wary eye lest the nobleman cut an important line.
Meanwhile, civilisation slipped steadily away.
As we sailed north on the vast freshwater sea that is Lake Huron, the sky seemed to inflate, stretching to ever-emptier horizons. The shoreline, when we could see it, was a flat, unbroken expanse of forest. Not a white village, nor a farm, nor even a lonely cabin broke its endless green face. We once passed an Indian encampment, bark wigwams set on a sandy shore, but spotted only a couple of figures, a wisp of smoke, and a single beached canoe. Another time I saw wolves loping on a sand beach and my throat caught at their easy wildness. Eagles soared overhead, otters splashed in the shallows, but the world seemed emptied of people. The planet had turned back to something infinite, pristine, and yet oddly intimidating. Here, Earth didn’t care. The custodial God of Europe had been displaced by the lonely wind and the spirits of the Indians. So much space, such yawning possibility, everything unrealised! Even in bright sunlight, the great northern forest seemed cold as the stars. Nothing and no one out here had ever heard of the famed Ethan Gage, hero of the pyramids and Acre. I had shrunk to insignificance.
While the crew of the ship regarded this unbroken forest as so expected and monotonous to be beyond comment, Magnus was transfixed by the ceaseless rank of trees. ‘This was the world of the gods who were the first men,’ he said to me as we cruised. ‘This is what it all was once like, Ethan. Great heroes wandered without leaving a mark.’
‘It’s the world of the Potawatomi and the Ottawa,’ I replied. ‘And whatever they are, it’s not gods. You’ve seen a few: poor, diseased, and drunk.’
‘But they remember more than we do,’ he insisted. ‘They’re closer to the source. And we’ve just seen the ones corrupted by our world. Wait until we get to theirs.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Mackinac Island was a green knob between the reflecting blue platters of lake and sky, its American garrison of ninety men guarding the straits that led to Lake Michigan. It represented the edge of the United States. Beyond were only British posts, trappers, and tribes. Our little cutter banged a one-gun salute as we coasted into the island pier, and the fort replied in turn, the bark of its guns flushing great clouds of birds from the forest and then echoing away into emptiness.
The fort was in the shape of a triangle, with three blockhouses and two ramparts for cannon, earth and stone on the water side, and a log stockade facing the land. The high white officers’ quarters, with hipped roof and twin chimneys, was the dominant building. Other cabins and sheds marked out a parade ground. The forest was cut back around the fort to make pasture and cropland, giving the outpost light to breathe.
‘We British moved the post here after Pontiac’s Indians overcame the old French fort of Michilimackinac on the mainland shore,’ said Lord Somerset, pointing. ‘It was a masterful attack, the braves pretending at lacrosse, following the ball through the fort gate and then seizing weapons from their waiting women who had hidden them under their trade blankets. The fort fell in minutes. The new post doesn’t let the Indians land, though in winter you can walk to Mackinac across the ice. With the boundary settled we’ve passed this fort to you Americans, while we build a new one on the Saint Mary’s River, near the rapids that lead to Lake Superior.’
‘Ninety Americans to guard all the Northwest Territory?’
‘In North America, empire hangs by a thread. That’s why our alliance is so valuable, Ethan. We can prevent misunderstandings.’
Here the commandant was a mere lieutenant named Henry Porter, who met us on the dock to escort us up the dirt causeway to the fort gate. He was impressed by my letter from Jefferson – ‘I’d heard there’s a new president, and here he is,’ he marvelled, looking at the signature as if written in the statesman’s blood – and he positively gaped at Aurora in a moony way I found annoying. The lieutenant seemed less plagued than Colonel Stone with duelling and bowling, and in fact his fort felt empty. ‘Half the garrison is off-post at any one time fishing, hunting, cutting wood, or trading with the Indians,’ he said. ‘We’ve room aplenty in the officer’s quarters while you wait for your freight canoes.’
There might be room aplenty, but not enough for Lady Aurora Somerset. She took one look at the spare military cubicles and announced that while her trunks might fit in a closet, she certainly could not. After brisk inspection of every possibility she declared that the top floor of the eastern blockhouse would just barely serve for her privacy and comfort. With inherited authority, she ordered Porter to shove its two six-pounders out of the way, asked for a squad of American infantry to carry in a cornhusk bed with down comforter, declared the ground floor sufficient for her maid, and said she would require a certain number of furs to carpet the rough planking of her new abode to make it habitable.
‘But what if we come under attack?’ the young lieutenant asked, clearly overawed by the imperiousness of the English nobility.
‘My dear lieutenant, none would dare attack a Somerset,’ Cecil replied.
‘And I will take my cousin’s squirrel gun and shoot them between the eyes if they do,’ Aurora added. ‘I am a crack shot – yes, my cousin has taught me. Besides, the blockhouse is the safest place, is it not? You do care, Lieutenant, for the safety of women?’
‘I suppose.’ He squinted at Jefferson’s letter again, as if it might include instructions on handling this demand.
‘I will keep a sharp lookout for red savages – and for any of your garrison that dare intrude on my privacy! This is how we do things in England and it would be well to pay attention. It will be instructive for you.’ She sniffed. ‘This has a
With that Porter was in full retreat, Bunker Hill taken, Yorktown avenged, and Britannia triumphant. If she’d asked for his own washbasin, he would have surrendered it in an instant, and Indiana Territory, too.
I, of course, am more experienced when it comes to women. But, alas, no more sensible than poor raw Porter: I am a man, after all, anxious as an insect, and I immediately set to scheming.
‘You want to jeopardise our passage north and infuriate Cecil by going after his cousin?’ Magnus hissed while I looked hungrily at the blockhouse, just begging to be assaulted. ‘This is as irresponsible as your dalliance with Pauline Bonaparte!’
‘He’s not her husband or father. And believe me, Magnus, conquering Aurora might prove as useful to our safe passage as Pauline Bonaparte was in getting us away from Mortefontaine. Women can be resourceful allies when they’re not betraying you.’ I am ever the optimist.
‘She’s above your station and has two cannon to hold you off.’
‘Which means I have to be as wily as Pontiac’s Indians when they took Michilimackinac.’
I didn’t think I could follow a lacrosse ball to her boudoir, but I had a Trojan horse of another sort. I took my most prized possession, my longrifle, and enlisted Aurora’s maid to place it on the bed of my quarry’s blockhouse sleeping quarters, with a note offering it for her protection and amusement and applauding her claim of marksmanship. Meanwhile we dined at the officers’ mess. Everyone was curious about Jefferson, so I told them what I thought.
‘The man writes like Moses, but can’t speechify enough to hold a schoolhouse. He keeps a live bird and dead elephant bones in his office and knows more about wine than the Duke of Burgundy. I think he’s a genius, but mad as a hatter, too.’
‘Like all leaders not born to the post,’ sniffed Cecil. ‘The American democrats are admittedly quite clever, but there
‘At table he’s the most entertaining man I’ve met since my mentor Franklin,’ I said. ‘Insatiably curious. He’s fascinated by the west, you can be sure.’
‘I admire your young country’s talent,’ Aurora said, ‘given that the highest-born fled to Canada or back to England during the Revolution. I’ve read your Constitution. Who would have thought such genius could be found in common men? It’s a remarkable experiment you’re defending, Lieutenant Porter. Remarkable.’ She gave him a smile so dazzling it made me jealous.
He blushed. ‘Indeed, Miss Somerset. And the bitterest of enemies can become the best of friends, can they not?’ Then
