Chapter 1
(John)
John Murray's orders were a disappointment. The red-haired son of Lord
Dunsmore sat despondently in the library of the big booming house. In his hand was a snifter of his father's best brandy. His lieutenant's red coat fit his body well, accenting his tall frame with its well tailored lines. He was considered a handsome man. His future wife, Levina Louise Wilson, simpered whenever anyone mentioned that fact to her. Though not officially engaged, there was an understanding between both fathers that their children would marry when John returned from his required duty in the colonies.
The lieutenant sighed as he thought again of the assignment and the reason for his semi-banishment. He had always been near the top of his class at Oxford and excelled in the mathematics courses. He performed well in all his endeavors at the Royal Military Academy. Therefore he should have been assured a comfortable assignment.
But he had not taken it seriously when Percy Williams challenged him to a duel over a supposed slight to Percy's father. Percy had always been an awkward young man, a poor student and poor soldier. John chose swords as the weapon to settle the requirements of honor never thinking that Percy would accept.
After a particularly wild slash from Percy, John parried the blow and his upper blade caught the other man in the throat. The wound was deep and Percy Williams bled to death. Both witnesses signed sworn statements that the fatal blow had been the result of an accident but the young lieutenant knew that being sent to survey western Virginia was a punishment nevertheless.
As the alcohol coursed through his system a feeling of warm forgetfulness settled over his mind. His coppery red head leaned back in the chair and he began to doze. An irritating voice intruded on the sleepy warmth and John's mind acknowledged the arrival of his intended. Joseph knocked discreetly, then pulled open the sliding doors into the library. Levina Louise Wilson, her pale skinny father and tall big-boned mother entered and immediately she began to scold her intended fiance.
"An appointment to the colonies!" Her voice rose to a screech and John Murray clenched his hands to prevent himself from holding his ears in pain. "What a disgrace! I am ashamed to show my face! You must refuse. You must demand another assignment. You are the son of Lord Dunsmore. The crown needs your support. They must realize how dishonorable your placement is! John, you must protest this treatment or you will be thought of as weak and subservient."
Gritting his teeth, John Murray walked to Levina and took her right hand, pressing his lips to the back in the required gesture of respect. He nodded to her father and mother, then replied to her demands. "Miss Levina, I am a servant of the crown. The King sends me where he needs me to go. I always obey my king, as I am sure that you do Sir Wilson. Surely you do not counsel me to refuse my duty?" His light blue eyes displayed only a desire to obey his king.
Levina's own light blue eyes displayed their usual expression of selfishness as she thought about his words. Perhaps he was right. A few years in the colonies, then he would return and she would be the next Lady Dunsmore. The thought caused her tight lips to lift in a greedy smile. John Murray saw the smile, understood perfectly, and irreverently thought that with luck in his absence some other greedy man would snatch his intended for himself.
Sir Wilson's mind was spinning as he composed a different plan. "John, before you sail, you could wed Levina. Then when you return you would already have a loving wife waiting." The older man's eyes shone with the same greed that lit his daughter's.
Beneath the red officer's coat John Murray's heart skipped a beat in terror. Thinking rapidly, the young man replied. "Sir, that is a noble offer. But I would not want Levina to miss the wedding that she deserves. It will take months to plan, I am certain, and I would never deprive her of that joy. Or her mother either. It is enough to know that she waits for my return."
Turning to Levina, John again took her cool hand and kissed it. He looked into her light eyes, his own carefully bland. "Miss Levina, I will return to England. This is my home. I will do my duty to the crown and then accept my duty as your husband. Though the time may seem long now, I am certain that it will pass more quickly than you imagine." Inside his heart he cringed at the same thought. Releasing her hand, he opened the sliding library doors for his guests to depart. Joseph showed them to the door, and when the heavy outer door closed John Murray poured himself another large snifter of brandy and continued to brood in the dark quiet room.
(Talota)
Talota was the daughter of the chief, and from early childhood she knew that her duty was to serve as her father saw fit. When she grew into a beautiful young woman she was captured by the son of a Creek chief to cement an alliance. Her refusal would serve only her own selfish purpose and her acceptance would benefit her entire tribe. She knew where her duty lay and she accepted that duty. Just past her fifteenth birthday and a slim young woman with great dark eyes, her new husband delighted in his good fortune.
Their union produced a son within the first year of their marriage. Then increased pressure from the neighboring tribes kept the Creeks in constant turmoil. Her husband was a superior warrior, well respected and acknowledged as a leader. In that capacity he took many risks, and in one brutal encounter after another won battle honors that elevated him in the eyes of his people.
Talota was given the respect due one whose husband was an extraordinary warrior. Their young son Taramingo felt his father's honors personally and went about the encampment with a haughty expression unusual in one only five years old. Talota corrected his behavior vigilantly but her husband, proud of his own accomplishments, encouraged his son's prideful behavior.
Tragedy struck with the iron trader tip of a Shawnee arrow. Talota's high rank fell with her husband's body, and Taramingo lost his best guide into the world of a Creek warrior. Bitterly the boy grieved for his father, both as parent and mentor. Though only five years old he keenly felt the loss of position and also felt a bitter desire for revenge.
Talota worried that her young son was becoming hardened beyond his years and his Creek relatives encouraged the boy's brutal attitude. A small cadre of other boys followed Taramingo's wild example as they practiced their hunting and battle skills. To diffuse her son's twisted outlook she decided to return to her own people where she hoped that her brothers could mentor her troubled son and help him recover a measure of temperance.
Taramingo resisted his mother's decision, even going so far as to run away from the encampment. Talota enlisted two of Taramingo's peers to track him and return him. They convinced him that his mother had stopped looking and returned to her people. When Taramingo discovered the ruse he attacked the other two boys and broke one boy's arm in his fury.
Talota firmly disciplined her unruly son and tied him onto the pack horse loaded with their belongings. Without a backward glance she and her son left the Creek village. She was going home, her heart singing in joy but shadowed by her son's rebellious nature.
Welcomed home by both her brothers, Talota moved her tortured son into a lodge near her oldest brother Menewa who had assumed the position of chief upon the death of their father. Wise beyond his years and patient by nature, Menewa tried to fill the boy's need for a strong father.
But the child would not accept his uncle's affection or mentoring and continued to behave as brutally as before. Talota took Taramingo with her everywhere, not trusting him to be in camp when she returned. She also hoped that by keeping him near her he would lose some of his fury and feelings of deprivation. She laughed and sang to him, told him Cherokee stories and playfully teased him. But the boy remained stoically aloof from all her efforts. In the long dark hours of the night the young mother racked her mind for ways to lift the heavy burden from her only son.