Chapter 3
Later that evening John Murray summoned his son. Understanding the reason for the summons, Edmund gritted his teeth but obeyed. Calvin's warm brown eyes glowed with sympathy as he watched his friend walk slowly through the door. When he followed Joseph into the library his dark head was high though his heart pounded inside his chest. His father stood before the fireplace, hands clasped tightly behind his back.
"Sit down, Edmund." John Murray's voice was low, menacing.
Edmund sat carefully on one of the silken chairs his father had placed before the fire. The flames lit the dark room, making the brass fixtures gleam.
"Explain to me."
Edmund swallowed nervously. Though not afraid of his father, the thirst for acceptance and affection was ever present deep in his heart. But long ago he had decided that his father was incapable of giving either. So pushing his emotions aside, he replied.
"What is it that you wish me to explain sir?"
John did not turn but replied angrily. "Why did you not meet with Commander Holmes as I demanded? Why did you disobey me yet again?"
"I will not attend the Academy, father. I have always told you the truth. When I graduate from Oxford this spring I will return to Kentucky. I have never pretended otherwise."
The words echoed off the paneled walls. John Murray gave no indication that he had heard. The clock in the hall chimed its heavy notes. Slowly the tall man turned to face his son. His face was tight with anger.
"I see. But you deem it acceptable to fight one of the Academy's instructors with a bayonet. Barefooted, your shirt loosened, nearly naked. I do not understand your behavior. Explain it to me. If you can."
The implication was plain, and Edmund colored. "Sir, he challenged me."
The Earl's red eyebrows rose in amazement. "You dare to lie to me?" The tall heavy man slowly approached his son, menace evident is every line of his body.
"Sir, it is no lie. I was standing before the building where you left me. Captain Fletcher brushed my shoulder in passing, insulted me, and challenged me. I simply accepted the challenge."
John's light blue eyes searched his son's for several seconds. Then his red head lifted proudly. "You did the honorable thing then, Edmund. By God, I will ruin this Burkitt Fletcher!"
The Earl clasped his hands before himself, caressing one with the other. "You defeated an instructor at the Royal Military Academy. With a bayonet. Wonderful! Your rise should be even more rapid than I had first thought. I may have misjudged your 'native' abilities, Edmund. Well done!"
"Father." Edmund's voice was soft but firm.
The Earl's red eyebrows lifted in question. He continued to stand before his son, his face lit with a satisfied smile.
"This changes nothing. I will not attend the Academy. I am going home."
The Earl stared into his son's eyes. The firm decision beamed from the brown depths. The Earl's proud body seemed to shrink, his blue eyes filmed over with final understanding. Clamping his lips tightly the defeated man coldly turned and passed through the library doors leaving his determined, victorious son seated before the warm fire.
Epilogue
Waking with the first light, Mingo pulled himself upright and leaned on Daniel's rifle. Slowly but with determination he walked the three miles to the rocky gorge. He heard the sound of rifle fire and rushed to balance the long, heavy gun against a tree. Though painful, he supported the rifle with his wounded arm and fired. His final shot ended the attempt on Washington's life.
The carriage ride with the President was very satisfying. When the carriage arrived at its evening destination Washington insisted that the settlement doctor care for Mingo's wound. After a bandage was tightly bound to the bleeding hole Washington himself draped one of his shirts over Mingo's shoulders. Then the Cherokee sat weakly enjoying the hot buttered rum provided by the President. As he drowsily sipped the hot brew Daniel walked into the large taproom.
"Daniel! I am certainly relieved to see that you have arrived."
Daniel grinned at his friend's tipsy greeting and strode to his side. He beckoned the tavern keeper to bring a hot rum for himself, then sat and stretched his long legs in relief.
"How was your visit with the President, Mingo? Did you get your message across to the General?"
"I believe that I was successful, Daniel. We are going fishing."
Daniel's red eyebrows danced in amusement. Then he reached out his mug and clicked it against Mingo's own. "Don't beat him too bad now Mingo. Remember, he is the president." Mingo nodded. He grinned into his friend's eyes mischievously.
"What have you done with 'Edgar Newton', Daniel?"
"Buried him where he can do the most good for the colonies, my friend. Right under a little sapling elm."
"Very fitting. He always did aspire to greatness and now he'll be the tallest tree in the gorge. I do hope that you left a marker."
"I did. I marked the elm with his name: Edgar Newton."
Mingo smiled and nodded. Then the two patriots clicked their mugs once more, drained their rum, and went to their well-deserved rest. Beneath the elm, Birkett Fletcher, alias Edgar Newton, had already found his own.
CC 3/22/08