ANNALEA
A JOURNEY THROUGH STRANGERS~AT JOURNEY'S END
Copyright Stephen James Shore 2009
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Other titles by WriteAbout StephenJShore available at Smashwords and the Author's website include, the Annalea series: an historical fiction trilogy where mystery, romance and adventure unfold in the remarkable Saga of Annalea.
ANNALEA, PRINCESS OF NEMUSMAR http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/914
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ANNALEA, A PRINCESS IN EXILE http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1193
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ANNALEA, A JOURNEY THROUGH STRANGERS—AT JOURNEY'S END (this volume)
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The misguided zeal and get rich quick credo of a young cowboy put him on opposing sides of the law at different times. But he no longer seeks to make a name, just a whole lot of dollars. Perhaps he can play on both sides without getting caught in the middle. He rides into the desert on an honorable quest and rides out as the outlaw “Chili Beans” Bartlett. But he remains a reluctant outlaw. Let him tell you his story in his own words.
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ANNALEA
A JOURNEY THROUGH STRANGERS
~ AT JOURNEY'S END ~
by Stephen James Shore
Index
Annalea, a Journey Through Strangers: at Journey's End
Chapter I - Baffling Confabulation
Chapter II - Rigamarole
Chapter III - Snagging Serpents in a Sack
Chapter IV - The Tabard
Chapter V - The Narrowing Gap
Chapter VI - A Half Truth is Better Than No Truth
Chapter VII - Preparations and Alterations
Chapter VIII - It Has Come Down to This
Chapter IX - Our Friend Hath Come
Chapter X - This is not Over!
Chapter XI - What of Annalea?
Chapter XII - Epilogue
Dedication
This book is dedicated to Annalea. The saga of Annalea is a journey through life and place—through experience, with resolve, seeking resolution and peace. In good times and in bad times, in sickness and in health—through all life's travails and joyous moments—the journey has sustained me. The characters who populate Annalea's world have become intimate friends, and their adventures are now part of my life. I am grateful that I have participated in this journey and, thus, I am dedicated to Annalea.
I would wish for each of you to have an Annalea in your life. My personal Annalea is a beautiful, engaging, young princess named Sophie Jaimes Shore.
Stephen James Shore
ANNALEA
A JOURNEY THROUGH STRANGERS
~ AT JOURNEY'S END ~
by Stephen James Shore
Chapter I
Baffling Confabulation
Separated from the captain–their infallible leader–by necessity, Mr. Crockett and Annalea, with their entourage, make haste for London. Once arrived, they take up residence in young Mr. Crockett's apartments. Not yet quite settled in, the senior Mr. Crockett takes time to draft a message to his captain: notification of their safe arrival. As prearranged, this initiates an unbroken string of daily reports between the two old comrades. The progress of Crockett's mission is the significant topic of all correspondence.
London April 27, 1718
Cap'n, momentous things have been afoot here, even afore we arrived. Me son has served to lay the groundwork for our activities, seeking relief through the law courts. This has served to notify the wicked Pankhurst–who be, hisself, here in London–of Annalea's presence and intentions. I fear evil from that man; and we are ever watchful as regards Annalea.
Me son, Thad', has been most industrious as regards these matters of preliminaries and preparations. I’d not an idea of what all should be involved. I’d as soon have sought that Pankhurst and bled from him the reparations due our Annalea. And put a complete ending to the threat he poses upon her very life!
But I knew in me heart, as Thad' has also put plain into words for me, that ‘tis not enough to vanquish this foe in combat. ‘Tis as important to restore Annalea’s name and her rightful place in whatever there is of family beyond that knave, Pankhurst. And ‘tis important that she should have a standing in the community–and be accepted as a young lady of grace and intelligence. All of this must be achieved through application of the proper formalities. And this must involve laws and courts and justices and magistrates and God knows what all! But I do thank God for Thad', without who I would not have a start or a finish–or a prayer of finding such.
Me son has promised to make all things clear to me, on the morrow, regarding where we now stand and the process necessary to take us through to our object. As I receive the particulars, I shall inform you, immediately–doubtless, in me next despatch. For this eve, we are putting such serious matters aside. We’ve promise of a sumptuous feast, provided by Thad'. And afterwards, all cozied ‘round a warm fire–with goblets of wine in hand–the mood and the time should be propitious for me daughter, Annalea, to become truly acquainted with me son, Thaddeus. I should have much to impart when next I write!
Your Faithful Servant,
Crockett
~~
London April 29, 1718
Cap’n, All is Well.
Crockett
~~
London April 30, 1718
Cap’n, I do apologize for the abbreviated missive I despatched to you, yesterday. I’d every intention of writing, as I had promised you, with great detail on all matters which now concern us. Something... prevented–or rather, delayed–me correspondence. Nothing serious, I assure you! But I will explain meself, in due course. Be it for you to know I wrote but what I did only to prevent you from thundering ahorse into this city of London to perform a rescue–due to me errant missives.
To the last that I mentioned, when last I wrote a proper report, our accommodations are splendid and the feast young Thad’ provided us was, indeed, sumptuous. And following the meal came the perfect time for all to become better acquainted. Annalea thought to present her life to Thaddeus, only to discover that he knew more of her life than any other man except me. This information having been provided to him without her knowledge, she admonished me ungentlemanly conduct. She concluded her reprimand with the words, “For shame, Papa... for... for shaming me!”
For certain, Cap’n, these words would have cut me to the quick, ‘twere not for the fact of that tiny little smile that shone on Annalea’s countenance when she turned her face away from Thad' and toward me to make her remark. ‘Twas what a sweet, virtuous, young lady would have a young man to believe she felt–but without harming her papa’s sensibilities. Me little girl’s game was afoot. Y’know, Cap’n, I’ve oft’ remarked ‘bout the times our Annalea does things that put me in mind of you–and your admirable capabilities. And so many wise and sensible things she does that remind me of Mam' Tiére. Well, sometimes, she reminds me of me! These may not be her proudest moments–but they make me proud of her!
To any event, Annalea knows in her heart that the telling of her life by her papa could only be done with the most loving care and concern. And not a word would utter from these lips to defame or distress her. Well... some of the telling may embarrass her–but it was all done in good cause and with the noblest of intentions. And this, me Annalea understands.
So it went that while ‘twas unnecessary for her to unfold her life story afore Thad', he did express interest in many of her experiences and asked Annalea to elaborate for him. For the most part, she enjoyed the telling. But she became almost vexed by his repeated insistence on more information about Don Estaban. Annalea preferred to simply describe him as a fine, young nobleman–a friend and protector. She willingly, and colourfully, discussed his display of courage and ability during her time of distress in Kingston. And she spoke admiringly of his aid in our release from Spanish captivity. But when Thaddeus pressed for a discussion of their great romance, Annalea became silent, and looked at me askance–accusingly, and with not a whisper of a smile.
I replied to her glare with a sheepish grin and a shrug of me shoulders. Mayhaps, in that instance, I’d been a bit unguarded with me comments–and revealed too much. I could see that she was a bit annoyed by this young gentleman’s interest in her previous romances (and a great deal more annoyed with me, for what I’d already revealed). But I dismissed this as her lack of understanding–her being a girl. The lad was not simply curious to the point of being nosy–he was being a boy. All these questions were not truly questions; they were a subtle declaration of his interest in her! Mayhaps... romantically. Or do I get ahead of meself, Cap’n? Mayhaps, the lad is just nosy.
Well, no matter to befuddle me brain over. But the warmth that emanated from and between them youngsters caused some concern to–and remark by–Mam' Tiére. She thought this may not be a healthy situation for Annalea. Mam’ expressed to me her belief that the loss of Annalea’s first, true love, Estaban, exacerbated by her untimely separation from the Shore brothers–for whom she’d developed both fondness and affection–hath made of her a lonely, fragile, young woman, mayhaps vulnerable to the wiles of a sophisticated, city-dwelling young man, irrespective of the bond of family we have placed upon them. “Ya says wha’ ya says. But I says dey’s not blood!” Mam’ warned me.
So I turned the tables upon her. “I put it to you, woman: You and I and Annalea are not blood. Be we not family?”
“But
das... dat be... da dif....” I know Mam’ intended to point up
the difference for me, but she surrendered the argument, abruptly.
“Sho’, Hon’, ya be right... ya be right. But.., I jus’ don’
feel right ‘bout dis. Ya know?"
Well, Cap’n, I didn’t
know; so I didn’t respond. I couldn’t respond. Me mind was
wandering off. I couldn’t help but think that, aye, they are
bonded like brother and sister–each to a familial relationship with
me. But so odd is this relationship. The one who is me offspring,
and has not known me, nor I of him, through most his life. And the
other who is not me offspring, yet has been raised so close to me
bosom, in love and affection and with utmost concern–beyond that
provided by so many parents to their natural offspring. So I could
not help thinking–mayhaps, dwelling on Mam’s point that they are
not blood–that if
something should spark betwixt them... if
they should fall in love... if
they should marry,
the circle would come complete! Annalea would become, in full, a
Crockett! And the grandbabies!
The grandbabies
would be natural
born
Crocketts!
I have to admit, Cap’n, sitting in the warm glow of the fire–mellowed by a few goblets of wine–and watching as me two “offspring” sat close across from each another, speaking amiably to one another, such flights of fancy pervaded me noggin (with a most pleasant result). But as to this relationship being, or that relationship becoming... or the right of this, or the wrong of that.... Ah! ‘Tis more than this old sea dog can fathom! I think I’d best just leave such matters to Annalea and Thad'... and, mayhaps, the good Lord.
Well, Annalea was soon to find her own relief by twisting the table about. She would not continue answering personal questions about herself to a man who already knew too much–when she knew practically nothing of him. She even said as much. “I know nothing of you, Thaddeus Crockett. ‘Til most recently, I knew not even of your existence.”
And then she turned on me–I mean, to me (no, actually, on me). “And why is that... Papa?”
I shivered a bit from the ice in her voice, and answered, “Mayhaps, I was a wee, wee bit remiss, pet, in so much as....”
Annalea ignored me ambling response and dismissed me from the discussion. She leaned forward in approach to young Thad', took his hands in hers and looked into his eyes. “‘Though our lives seem dissimilar, I believe we have much in common. We both had unusual experiences in early childhood. We both had our families torn asunder. And yet, we both share the same father. I do feel like you are me brother. And I do so want to know of your life. I want to know about all of your life.”
I thought I noticed a mild cringe in Thad' when Annalea called him “brother.” Mayhaps, he had hoped for some appellation other than “brother.” No matter. No man can long remain disheartened while holding the hands of an angel and holding her gaze for his own. Thaddeus was soon narrating every moment of his waking life to Annalea, who became absolutely infatuated with the story. But it seemed to me, Cap’n, ‘twas not the infatuation of romance. I may have to rethink me grand design for grandbabies. Mayhaps... Annalea has found herself a brother.
But now, Cap'n, as I promised, let me explain the necessity for brevity in me last missive. I'd simply not the clarity of thought which writing doth require of me. I know what you are thinking, Cap'n. "Mr. Crockett fell within those enormous goblets of wine he spake about and came back out only when his brain was pickled beyond utility."
Well, if that is what you are thinking, Cap’n, then you be most-near half right. The throbbing in me brain that day, as I set to write to you, was at least partially the result of an over-consumption of wine–from late in the eve, throughout the night and into the morn. But the other half of the reason for the dysfunction of me faculties was also the direct cause for me unregulated consumption. When all others went off to their beds, I asked me son Thad' to stay up with me, share another drink or two, and explain all of the details regarding our necessary advance through the hallowed halls of English justice.
Many’s the year, Cap’n, I’ve sailed in the trade–in the life we’d chosen. And I believed I’d been accosted by damned near every type of travail that there be. But the baffling confabulation put upon me when seeking a simple explanation from me own son as regards the course we must now plot to achieve our final destination, and justice for Annalea, was enough to drive a man to drink! Well... so it was with me!
I’ll try to explain, Cap’n. Unless again it cause me head a hurtful spell. After the feast and the telling of lives and loves–and a few cheery goblets of a most fine wine–everybody else was put off to bed. Alone in the parlour, in the cozy warmth of a glowing hearth, I thought it should be easy for a man to converse readily with his son. That is what I thought–until the conversation began. And ‘twas I who begun it, quite innocently.
“So, lad, I should well imagine, by now, you have set the sheriff to be dragging Pankhurst’s rump afore the Justice of the Peace?”
From Thad’s first response, I should’ve forecast that this journey of words would not be so quickly and smoothly sailed through as I had at first anticipated. “Were that it could be so, Father. Were that it could be so simple.”
“What is not so simple?” I asked, in apparent naiveté. “‘Tis not so complicated. The man is a criminal–a most scurrilous villain. It is but to seize him, indict him and hang him! What is not so simple?”
And he was prepared to answer. “I am sure Mr. Pankhurst is in all ways as despicable as you declare him to be–the definition of evil incarnate. But....”
“Aye!” I grabbed the wind from his sails. “Of course he is such! Have I not explained to you–in great detail–all of the dastardly... diabolical... machinations of that man, in his sole-minded pursuit of our destruction?!”
“But....” Thad’ was quite forceful–and seemingly annoyed. So I shut it down. “But... even though his activities are devilish–seemingly under directive from Lucifer, himself–even if that be given, Father... even so, he is a man. And he can only be brought to justice through prosecution in a court of law, as a man–not as a devil or a witch, by means of inquisition.
“And, more to our distress, Mr. Pankhurst is not a common, ordinary man. Were he a common, ordinary man, it would be a much simpler matter. We’d then have before us simply the arduous task of proving a man to be the criminal we know him to be, when we have no solid, irrefutable evidence by which to secure his conviction! But this case shall have no simple resolve, Father–as Mr. Pankhurst is no common, ordinary man. Surely, it has occured to you that no such man of regular means and ways would be conducted half way around the world by His Majesty’s navy. Nor would such same man have the king’s regulars available to do his bidding. I, too, have discovered that he is not a simple man and that our approach to him cannot be simple–and the conduct of such will not be easy.”
I put it to him, “Can we succeed?”
The lad did not answer me as directly as I would have hoped. “As you know, Father, I have attempted to make those in authority to know that our only intention–our just cause–is to reinstate Annalea in the bosom of her family, allow her to reclaim her name or namesake, and secure her from personal jeopardy. But with every promising start, we seem to quickly bog down again. Mr. Pankhurst seems to have friends–or at least allies–in business, in the courts, in Parliament and in the king's court. He's rumoured even to have the king's good ear."
“But, can we succeed?” I pressed upon him me imperative.
“I believe so, Father. I do.” Thad’ sought to diminish me concern. “There are very serious matters, the resolve of which may become extraordinarily complicated. But at its essence, this case comes down to a situation of right versus wrong. I have great faith in the British legal system–and the law courts of England. I know of no other system as capable as ours for divining the truth well-hidden and determining right from wrong.”
I was not truly consoled by this, Cap’n, and made to reiterate me imperative. “But... but... can we succeed?!”
And I had me answer. “Yes, sir. I believe... I definitely believe we can succeed. As I say, it will not be easy. But with strong determination to stay the course–the self-same determination that brought you from the West Indies, through storm and deprivation and oppression, to arrive at this place... solely on Annalea’s behalf–with such determination, we must win!”
I was impressed by the lad’s confidence, Cap’n. And then I wondered if, mayhaps, he was overly confident. But I was not about to bother on it. The words spaken were the words I had need to hear. Anyhow, ‘twas about that time I forsook the goblet in favour of draining the wine bottle direct. As a matter of fact, I put away the remainder of that bottle–direct down me gullet–believing we were but a few more words from retiring to bed. And so I uttered the words I expected to bring about a conclusion. “So, lad, we’ve but to haul the blighter’s ass into a courtroom and let justice be done, eh?”
When Thad’ responded, “Were that it could be so simple, Father,” I fetched up another bottle.
I should have just filled me maw with wine. Instead, I had to go and ask the question, “Why is it not simple?”
And–unfortunately–Thad' commenced to explain to me. “As you may or may not be aware, Father, our system of law is divided into two branches: criminal law and civil law.”
So I set him straight, “I know only of the one law, son, which has been trying to hang me, lo’ these many years.”
But nothing I said seemed to bring the matter or the conversation (or the night) to conclusion. The lad had need to respond to everything. “Yes... well... were they to succeed, Father, they would have to proceed against you under criminal law–not civil law. You see how that is?”
I responded with a nod as I took me first swig off of that fresh bottle.
“Of course,” Thad’ continued, “under the appropriate circumstances, someone might also pursue an action against you–concurrently–under civil law, and then....”
“Enough of this, lad!” I pleaded. “Let us just concentrate our thoughts and theories upon the resolve of Annalea’s plight.”
“And that is what I was attempting to address–and explain–for your benefit, Father.”
“Sorry, lad.” (I was brought up short by me own son, Cap’n. And deservedly so.)
Well, feeling just a bit embarrassed by this exchange, I stopped me talking and continued me drinking. And I did as much, Cap’n, each and every time I felt embarrassed or said something stupid. The result of me ignorance and arrogance was me inability to communicate sober thought to you, yesterday.
With this brief respite from me continual questioning and interrupting, Thad’ was again able to continue. “The most pronounced distinction between the two branches is evidenced in the assignment of courts, the procedures applied and–ultimately–the sanctions available. Now, regardless of venue, Father, the law of the land–in all of its applications–is that which we refer to as common law. Perhaps you are aware that, in England, common law has its basis in custom. It has never really been codified, nor even precisely defined.”
“Most interesting,” I lied–when the lad paused and I felt put upon to fill the void with words.
Those two insignificant words must have been just what Thad’ had hoped for, as he continued with great enthusiasm. “Yes! It is interesting. Isn’t it?”
But what caught me interest from his wee recitation were the “not really” this and the “not precisely” that. And I expressed me concern to Thaddeus.
He sought to further instruct me. “Well, the point of significance which you’re missing, here, Father, is the preeminence of the judge deciding the case. The interpretation of common law–and its application in court–is within the judicial prerogative of each sitting judge, on a case-by-case basis.”
“Blimey!” I exploded on the lad–unintentionally–causing him a start which shook the goblet in his hand and spilled its contents onto me best weskit.
“Father! I’m so sorry,” he reacted. “But... what... what is the matter?”
I told him, “The matter is... we have a problem here! If, as you’ve implied, son, all of London–and, mayhaps, the Court of St. James as well–be filled with mates and chums of that wretched Pankhurst... mayhaps, even the courts and their keepers... well, where is there even a chance of our finding justice? I mean, if your bloody judge can decide anything he damned well please, and declare it justice–and should he turn out to be a Pankhurst man–what chance in hell do we have?”
Having recovered from the initial start I gave him, Thad’ replied, calmly, “I know, Father. I know. Believe me, I have given this a good deal of thought. And considering the situation–Mr. Pankhurst being a man of status, long-standing in the community, and a man most powerfully connected–I believe we would be better advised to approach him through equity court.”
Thad’s words brought from me two responses. The first was to ask, “Now what in the hell is that?” And the second was to reach for the wine bottle. (‘Tis as if I expect to find me answers at the bottom of those bottles. But I seldom do.)
I was, however, grateful for something to soothe me brain, when come his answer. “Equity law provides us with a more defined body of historic rules and sound principle, which are applied in an almost doctrinal manner–leaving a judge far less margin for deviation. Equity courts are considered remedial for the defects in justice within the common law courts. Which, again, is why I believe that should be our best vehicle to override the pernicious Pankhurst.”
He was losing me again, Cap’n, so I thought to jest with the lad. “So, you’ll haul out the Lord Mayor, and he shall make a proclamation in....”
“No, no, Father! Actually, it is the Lord Chancellor who is at the head of the judiciary. He is responsible for court procedures and administration of the higher courts. It is he who recommends all the judicial appointments to the Crown. And he appoints the magistrates.”
“That... that is... just fine, son. Stop now and share a drink with me.” Methinks me son has little humour about him, Cap’n. I must take care to avoid making the off the cuff whimsical comment that might loose the floodgates of Thad’s vocabulary.
We took our rest from the conversation. Thad’ fetched up a couple more bottles of his most delightful wine. (He’d need to, as I’d personally drained the last one.) He returned, freshened his goblet and handed off the bottle to me. I’d long-since discarded me goblet, preferring the more direct service of the bottle–hand to mouth.
Through all this time, Thaddeus remained silent. Probably in consideration for me–believing I’d had enough of this conversation. Methinks he is a most sensitive lad. And I’d not wish to injure his sensibilities, so I thought to begin a new discussion on some other matter. But I could not avoid consideration of the most truly significant matter: the fate of our Annalea. So I approached those floodgates, and said, “Tell me of this equity thing, son, and what we are to do.”
And he instructed me. “I had already begun to research our opportunities in the common law courts, Father. And I had initiated a pleading. You see, as I tried to make clear to you, before, the proper approach in civil courts is much different than in the criminal courts. There’s no grand jury–no indictment. We proceed with a pleading.”
I think he could see that, once again, he was losing me. “Common pleas are those that are agitated between common persons in civil cases. Thusly, Annalea–through us–will plead her case... her situation... against Mr. Pankhurst. I believe the most purposeful case we can make will be one regarding inheritance.”
“Say you what?” I was unaware of any inheritance.
“Well... I’ll admit it is a ploy, Father. But we’ve not much else... really, nothing else to go on, in initiating our case. There are substantial holdings in the Pankhurst name. Perhaps Annalea is entitled to some of this–or perhaps not. It will take time to discover this. I’ve been working to that end, but it is not easy to find any answers. But regardless the outcome of my research, if we plead that she has been wrongfully denied a legitimate inheritance, we are entitled to a hearing in court. And Mr. Pankhurst must respond, as defendant in such a matter.”
I again grew impatient. “I’ll tell you his response, ‘No, no, no!’”
But Thad’ remained patient with me. “Be that as it may, Father. We will have at least publicly announced Annalea’s existence, her presence and–most significantly–her claims against Mr. Pankhurst. Don’t you see? It is the best way to protect her. He could not possibly dare to move against her with the eyes of the public on her and the scrutiny of the court upon him.”
“Well played, lad. Well played.” I was once again impressed with me Thad’. And this made me wish to display me own insight, to him. “Would I be correct in saying that this “common law” of which we speak is so called because it applies to commoners?”
But Thad’ showed me, once again, that me great “insight” was no more than inspired guesswork. “Well, not entirely, for even the nobility can be bound up by the common law. It would be more significant to say it is the law in common, as it is applied–generally–to the entire kingdom.”
“And to the colonies?” I wondered.
“Well... yes and no,” he informed me. “That is a somewhat different matter.”
In truth, Cap’n, that is how I always preferred to keep me relationship with English law–different and distant. But now, by a horrible twist of fate–actually by necessity–I find meself in too close proximity (practically in the same bed) with that law and its justices. And, mayhaps, its hangmen. Feeling most uncomfortable, and in need of consolation, I uncorked another bottle.
Thad’, however, was quite comfortable with the subject, and proceeded to provide a lecture on the history of law–for me edification. He explained to me–in unwanted detail–of how the traditions of English law came down over time. It went so far back, Cap’n, did seem to me that Noah must have sailed his ark to the British Isles, made land, and started carving decrees into the indigenous stone. The lad went on and on, dredging up Angles and Saxons and Danes and Normans and Angevins and all the other long dead–but, apparently, not forgotten–tribes which have invaded, settled, or at least made camp on this blighted island.
Me brain was spinning in me skull, for fair. And I’ll not be blaming the grapes for that. Incredibly, Thad’ seemed fascinated by his own speech. And, apparently, he thought I felt likewise–for he did not relent. He does not seem to heed the subtle signs of boredom that I display. I didn’t wish to insult the lad; so, still I listened–and still I drank.
To return you from the great flood to the modern day, Cap’n, Thad’s first approach has been through the court of Common Pleas. He says it is the court of primacy for disputes between persons with opposing claims to real estate. I, of course, questioned this dubious pursuit of property, but Thad’ assures me this works into his ploy. And while this action has delivered notice of Annalea’s whereabouts into Pankhurst’s hands, it has also–as the lad suggested–served to keep him at bay. It is my intention, however, to keep her exact location a mystery to that man. I shall only allow for their meeting to happen within a courtroom: under the protection of the court–and under me watchful eyes.
Believing we must now be near a conclusion, I replaced the cork into the wine bottle, to serve as a stopper–literally–and put the grape aside. “Son, ‘tis well past time for sleep, and I must make for bed. But first tell me, briefly, how we shall proceed.”
“Procedure is very straight forward, Father, and is taken in steps,” he informed me. “As agent for the plaintiff–Annalea–I’ve begun by suing out a writ from Chancery. This will be followed by enquiry into our case, the trial–rendering of proof–and, ultimately, the remedy–the decision and enforcement of that decision.”
Now that was brief and informative; and I was pleased on both accounts. I should have turned on me heals, bidding the lad, “Goodnight!” Instead, I thought to have the last word on the matter. “Good. Well and good. Just so long as we get to say our piece in your courtroom. We’ve need to have it all said–the opportunity to explain ourselves, fully–to set everything to right.”
But then came, “Well... it is not so simple, Father.”
Oh, no, not again. You see why I must drink, Cap’n. “Why not so simple?”
And he told me the why of it. “For reasons of efficacy and accuracy, it is required that everything from the initial pleading, through the giving of evidence, to the final decision, be done in writing–in a prescribed format, in due time and proper order.”
“What?!” I shouted at the lad. And ‘twas not the wine talking. I was near livid and could feel the veins throbbing in me neck. But I continued. “What the hell are you saying?! We’ve gone through all we have–all we were put through–we’ve suffered and sacrificed for this moment, this opportunity to settle this matter rightly... for Annalea! And you tell me you would have this resolved by a pack of clerics passing parchments to and fro? This is what you would recommend for Annalea? Are you daft?!”
Well, I’ll tell you, Cap’n, ‘twould seem I’d cut a mite too close to the bone, this time. The lad turned away from me, and did not answer–did not speak to me at all. I did believe the night would end on that sour note.
But then came a presence that would revitalize us both. “Papa! Are you alright? Is everything alright? I heard you shouting. I heard you shouting me name. What is happening?”
I was a wee bit embarrassed to have caused such upset. I hemmed and I hawed as I thought how to answer. But with pure common sense–and a quick eye which saw the dejected look upon young Thad’, Annalea soon realized wherein lie the problem. She went over and put her hand upon the boy’s shoulder. “Oh, dear Thad’, what has Papa done to you?”
The lad’s countenance retained its sullen attitude, but his voice did come back–and perk up, considerable–when he addressed Annalea. “I am so sorry if we awoke you with all our noise–and brought you about with naught but your bedclothes to cover you. But I have been trying so very hard to explain to him... to Father... of the difficulties and decisions I face in preparing for your contest with Mr. Pankhurst.”
Annalea gave me a rueful look, which I did not think I deserved, and then took Thad’ by the hand and directed him to sit with her. “That is quite alright, sweet. You have to learn to ignore Papa when he gets this way.”
I thought to rebut this. But I realized that silence was the only virtue I had left to offer. Me restraint was rewarded when Annalea turned to me and said, “I love you, Papa.”
“I know, pet,” I responded. “I certainly do know.”
“And I know that all you do for me is always with me best interests at heart,” she told me.
I could feel the smile spreading across me face, Cap’n. That is how easily–and pleasantly–that child can change me mood.
Still holding onto Thad’s hand, Annalea reached over to take me hand up, as well. Then she spake to both of us. “I am here, now. And I would wish to be involved in any decisions which involve me life–me future. We should work through these things, together. I hope you would confide in me all the plans you men are making on me behalf.”
Thad’s spirit was obviously uplifted (as was mine), and his countenance was gleeful. I could have forecast, from that look upon him, what would follow. And so it was, he repeated–for the benefit of our unsuspecting angel, Annalea–his entire liturgy regarding the British legal system. She sat through the whole thing, patiently, and listened intently.
I sat through it again, nodding appropriately at significant moments, and drinking continually. The numbness I acquired made the drone of Thad’s voice almost soothing. I allowed me thoughts to waft away to a different place and time. I wondered how Orke and friend Shore were doing with their enterprise. I thought about wee Duvessa... and Mistress Christine. And a vision of the Oglethorpe girl came to me mind.
“Does that not sound sensible to you, Papa?” Me presence in the here and now was being requested by Annalea.
“Well... well... I don’t know, pet. What... is the sense of it?” I’d hoped to recover from me embarrassing lapse when she rephrased the question.
But ‘twas Thad’ who spake to me. He thought to recoup the confidence I’d shown in him, afore. He explained to me how thorough-going was the documentation process. How we can take time, labour over our statements, review our thoughts and our words, and ensure we’ve included all that must be included. “This is not always possible, Father, with oral presentation. Things are forgotten... overlooked... misrepresented. And just as significantly, it will aid our review of Mr. Pankhurst’s statements. Rather than an emotional–perhaps, heated–response to his ploys, conjectures, denials, insults and slurs, we can study his statements carefully and respond accurately and effectively. No matter the rightful indignation which causes an outburst in court, a sitting judge always responds to outrage in kind. The masterful application of logic–in writing, which he can study–will woo a judge as quickly as does a sonnet woo a maiden.”
I had to laugh at the thought of that. “Well said, me son. Well said!”
This reaction brought a smile to Thad’s countenance. And our resumption of warm relations brought a smile of appreciation from Annalea. Apparently, her true task was accomplished, and she excused herself, to return to bed. Afore she departed our company, she said, “Thank you for loving me.”
She kissed me upon the cheek. “Goodnight, me old love.” A mild blush upon his face was Thad’s reaction to a similar kiss from Annalea. But when she whispered, “Goodnight, me new love,” he went full ablush.
I took the bottle I’d most recently emptied and placed it upon the floor. Rising to me feet, I bid me son have a good and restful sleep and gave him a brief embrace. “Thank you, lad, for all you are doing now and shall do in the future, for our Annalea.”
I’d not escaped more than two paces, when he felt compelled to tell me one more thing. “I’d not want to seem indelicate to Annalea’s concerns and sensibilities, Father, so I held my tongue. But... you should know, we may not be all that successful in our initial endeavors.”
I was most determined not to explode again, Cap’n. So I turned about but slowly, attempting to think through me words afore I spake them. “I do understand the risks, son. I do understand that all is at risk, and that luck or puckish fate may turn against us. But... am I to understand that you foresee defeat–disaster–even at this point?”
He was quick to react to this. “No, no, Father. Not at all! It’s just... well, I’ve had some experience in these matters and–as I have told you–it can become very, very complicated. And... frankly, quite often it takes considerable time and many attempts to find justice. You must doggedly work your way through the legal system.”
“And?” I kept me calm–for I hoped there was more.
There was. “And that is one of the brilliant aspects of our system: the opportunity to continually seek justice, through appeal, so long as you can provide logical arguments for redress of grievances and injuries–including those inflicted by wrongful judgements in a court of law.”
Again, I felt me brain slipping its mooring and swimming ‘round in me skull. But I held fast me calm demeanor and simply offered, “But you will see it through... all the way–right, lad? We can succeed–right, lad?”
“I am certain... ultimately... we will succeed,” he assured me. “And I bring this up, not to add to your burden of concern, but to ensure that you are made fully aware of the tribulations that may face us. But I wanted to make the point that this struggle will also be made easier for the fact that the entire process of trial will be done through documents. This includes findings and the final judgement itself. I am very good at discerning the illogic in another man’s writing–especially a sitting judge–and using these logical defects to form a tighter argument under appeal. And I swear to you, Father, as is necessary, I will pursue every avenue of appeal until we are finally–and completely–successful.”
Were it not so very late, I would have applauded the lad. But then, in his enthusiasm, he spake again. “If need be, Father, I would take this to the King’s Bench!”
I told him I knew naught of this; and he set to instruct me. “That court is empowered to examine and reverse errors in facto and in jure made in any court, by any judge or justice in England. Whatever it takes, I will find the means to prevent Mr. Pankhurst from prevailing over Annalea. If it comes to it, I shall attempt a criminal action of trespass upon him. And, if need be, I would take this before the Lord Chief Justice of England, himself!”
The boy was fired up, in a most positive way. But I was just plain fired up. And it came out as such. “If needs be, lad, I would take it afore the king, hisself! For this is not truly about property or money or even namesake. This is about life or death. Annalea’s life or death!”
When I heard footsteps upon the floorboards approaching the parlour, I realized I’d once again become much too loud. This time, 'twas Mam' Tiére who appeared. I made me apology, “Oh Madam, I am so sorry that our noise has awakened you.”
But Mam’ corrected me mistaken assumption. “Noise? Ain’t da noise. It be da sun shinin’ in da window dat woke Mam’ up. It be full-on daytime. Ya gwan an’ make all da noise ya want, ya ol’ rooster!”
And so afore I took me rest, I set down at the writing table in the bedroom Thad’ had provided for me and penned those few words you last received, Cap’n. Again, me apologies for that. And for this if it put you to sleep–or drove you to drink. But there is one last thing that needs be said. In all honesty, I must admit I don’t really understand the most of this. Nor am I certain whither we are going with all of this. I guess I will just have to trust our fortunes–and our Annalea–to Thad’s good offices. But I do so wish ‘twere you here in me stead, Cap’n. You would understand all of this legal gibberish. You would know which road to pursue. I do feel so unsuited to the tasks ahead.
Your Faithful Servant,
Crockett
Chapter II
Rigamarole
London May 1, 1718
These past few days, I have had so much to report to you, Cap’n, regarding this legal rigamarole, that I’ve neglected to relate for you how very well we are all getting along. Me son’s home is a fine establishment of several floors and many, several rooms, in a clean, quiet and proper old neighbourhood (more befitting the town gentry than the likes of me). Every one of us was afforded his or her own separate bedroom (except for the sisters, Cynthia and Sarah, who bunk together by choice). There is a parlour on each floor, more fireplaces than I’d care to count, a massive dining hall with a galley sizable enough to support it, and a larder that’s as big as some of the crew’s quarters back on Nemusmar. Apparently, all of them bits o’ precious metal I sent back to England, over all them years, founded a way of life which allowed Thaddeus and his mother to prosper quite nicely. I am most pleased about that.
But there is one situation that doth not please me, Cap’n. It is something I often see, which bothers me. Yet it bothers me more when I see it not. I do not mean to speak in riddles, Cap’n, so I will speak plainly of me concern.
Within just a few days of our arrival at Thad’s, I first noticed we seemed to have acquired some unwanted company–in the persons of two most unseemly looking blokes. I first noticed them when I returned to Thad’s place after a wearying day at the courthouse, establishing me presence as “Mr. Oglethorpe.” I discovered what appeared to be two derelicts hovering about our doorstep. As I started me approach to them, I shouted, “Hey, there! Be you wanting something?”
The two strangers took a bit of a start, but they didn’t respond. Nor did they run away. As I continued me approach, they sauntered away, down towards the street corner–staring back at me, all the while. I’ll tell you, Cap’n, it gave me a shiver. Not that they were impressive men, in size or in swagger, but for the menacing look upon their countenances.
And all I could think about was how I had left Annalea and Mam’ and the sisters to home by themselves alone, that day. How I had foolishly left them at home by themselves alone, that day. I made it indoors on the quick-to. And once inside, I began to bellow, “Annalea! Mam’! Annalea!”
The reverberation from me shout–echoing through those halls–was so great, I’d not’ve been surprised had I awoken the dead. But the vision that did come upon me–with its own clamourous roar–did surprise me. Cynthia came bounding down the stairs with naught a stitch of clothes upon her from her neck on down to her midriff, shouting “What? What? What is it? What is wrong?”
From the look of shock upon me, she suspected the worst. “Oh, m’God! Is somebody dead?”
I removed me eyes to her face, with the full intention of answering her, when Sarah came bounding down the stairs with naught a stitch of clothes upon her–at all! And she responded to what she had just heard. “Someone died? Oh, m’God! Who? Who?”
She stood afore me, screaming her questions and flapping her arms and gesturing–and jiggling. As you know, Cap’n, the sisters are well endowed by nature (‘though, mayhaps, not with virtue or girlish modesty). And the motion brought about by all this commotion made for such a display as caused me great difficulty in concentrating on the peril at hand. But I quickly composed meself and strained me neck muscles to lift up me head so’s me eyes might come to the same line of sight as that of the sisters’.
I did not respond to their panic or their questions (frankly, I’d forgot what they’d just said). Instead, I demanded to know the whereabouts of Annalea and Mam’ Tiére. This just set them off again, Cap’n. “Oh... oh! Is one of them in danger?” Sarah was concerned. And for some reason, Cynthia wondered, “Is it Thaddeus? Is he dead?”
I put me arms around me partly naked and fully naked companions and cuddled them to me ‘til their shivering subsided. Softly I spake to them, “There is no present or impending danger, me dears. You are in no danger at all. And I know of no immediate danger to the others.”
I provided each one with a comforting kiss–each, upon her forehead. And then I said, calmly, “I must know the whereabouts of Mam’ and Annalea. Why have they not, also, come down those stairs?”
The sisters informed me that Thad’ had arrived to home quite some time afore me and had offered Mam’ and Annalea a carriage ride out into the countryside. I must have released a sigh upon hearing this, for they asked me if I was relieved. I was not pleased, but I was relieved; and I told them so. Whereupon they broke from me clutches, slapped me up a bit, and chastised me for scaring the b’Jesus out of them!
I just started laughing. Soon enough they, too, were smiling–and then giggling–o’er the whole situation. So I reached out to hug them both, and began stroking their bare backs. As I relaxed the muscles in me neck to allow me head free rein, that me eyes might wander o’er the comely terrain thus provided to view by the sisters’ lack of attire, I just had to remark. “Well, I must say, this is a most welcoming welcome home for a man to receive!”
As they pushed away from me, Sarah provided me a gentle slap to the face, and Cynthia asked, “Do you believe we were preparing for your amusement, love?”
Then they both began again to jiggle–this time, in a sort of impromptu dance. I am sure the broad grin upon me face told all there was to tell, but I did try to answer, “Well... well....”
“Well, you are wrong, m’love!” Sarah notified me. Then came Cynthia, “We are not here... we are not dressed like... undressed like....”
Sarah was more cogent, “We are not here, like this, for your amusement!” And they both turned their butt-sides towards me.
“Well, then... why in the hell are you here like this?” I had to know.
When they turned about, again, to face me, Cynthia told me, “We were preparing ourselves to be beautiful. We’re going out, tonight, and see something of this town of London–see something beyond these four walls!”
I had no intention of allowing that, Cap’n, but I held me tongue for a moment. Well, let’s just say that I put it to another purpose. In soft and velvety tones–with intentionally romantic overtones–I mentioned to the sisters, “‘Twould seem we have the whole of the place to ourselves, at the moment. And it might be so for some time to come. We’ll not have many of these spare–private–moments for companionship, in the days to come. Mayhaps... we should attend to such an opportunity as this. Especially since I find you already appropriately dressed... undressed... for a party... with a most promising outcome!”
I thought to move upon them, Cap’n, in warm and affectionate embrace. They raised their arms to oppose me! They both stepped back and–as in a sisterly harmony–offered the self same reply, “Uuhh!”
I was momentarily bewildered–and, methinks, a bit insulted. Sarah provided the explanation for their utterance. “Are you not supposed to be father to us, now? Would you impose an incestuous relation upon we your sweet and innocent daughters? Are you depraved?”
And with genuine sincerity, Cynthia added, “Sir... you disgust me!”
I was not angered, Cap’n. I was–in fact–amused. I had not realized they could be such believable actresses. Hopefully, they will be as convincing in public display.
And I did think about your words to me, Cap’n, regarding this matter, and your orders to maintain an appropriate demeanor towards the sisters at all times. And so I did manage to rein-in me passions. Although, I’m sure even you, sir, would concede that a few moments of delightful indiscretion within these four walls would be a mere trifle in the overall scheme of things. You would concede this, would you not? Mayhaps, not. I can envision the scowl upon your countenance as you read these words.
Never fear: nothing untoward occured. But since me amorous presumptions were so quickly stifled, I had no difficulty in sternly reproaching the sisters regarding their plans for the eve. I told them that it was quite simply unsafe for any of them to go abroad alone, day or night. They reacted most vilely, Cap’n. I’ll not waste ink on their curses and suppositions regarding the legitimacy of me birth, the quality and quantity of me manly prowess, and so forth. You know well the sisters. So you well know how I was accosted.
Me response to them was as heated as once was me passion for them. “In especially, ‘daughters’ dearest... you two shall never be beyond me sight and call! Let you two out at night? To roam free? Hah! And then waste all of the next day searching all over London town for you? Seeking you in every damned tavern and inn–and mayhaps every bed in every inn? Or shall I find you dockside? Or in prison? Or absconded to some brothel? No, no, me dears! You shan’t be traipsing anywheres beyond these four walls without me! Not tonight, nor any other night!”
Again they turned their butt-sides towards me, as they repaired for the stairs–in a pronounced huff. As if to punctuate me anger, I reached out and slapped Sarah’s naked hind, as she retreated. It was there–most pronounced in me presence–and I simply had to do it. Of course, it was not really an act of anger. I’m sure you know, Cap’n, how fond I am of Sarah’s perfect hind.
The sisters stormed back up the stairs–unintentionally making a lovely spectacle as they paraded upward. As they arrived at the landing and moved down an adjacent hallway, I muttered, “See what happens when you lasses want some tender companionship.”
Now, that’s a threat I could never deliver on. And the sisters would know that. And they’d hold it up to me–while withholding their tender companionship. ‘Tis why I did not intend for them to hear me last words. I just felt the need to have the last word.
Cap’n, I do so enjoy a bit of amusement; and I takes me amusement whencesoever and whensoever I finds it–even in the midst of other goings-on. As you can understand, I was still perturbed by the presence–the arrogance–of them two unseemly blokes, trespassing upon Thaddeus’ property. From the look of them, they were probably just idle vagrants scrounging about for a handout–or the opportunity to nick something or another. That would be annoyance enough, and reason for concern. But the situation with Annalea, and the dastardly ways of that damnable Pankhurst, compel me to view any strangers as potential assassins. And for me, Cap’n, that is more than cause for concern. That makes a necessity of being constantly on our guard.
With Annalea, Mam’ and Thad’ somewheres beyond me knowing, I could not seek them out to assure their safety. I could but await their safe return–wait and hope for their safe return. I paced about the floorboards in the entryway for some considerable time, ‘til finally I realized how futile a practice that was. Me ever quickening pace–to and fro and back and again–seemed to actually retard the passage of time. All I could accomplish was a buffing of the floorboards, from the worn leather of me boot heals.
Finally, I decided to put me time–and me mind–to some utility. I came up to sit at this writing desk in me bedroom and begin composing that day’s missive to you, Cap’n. A chance look out the window–to distract me from the writing, that I might collect me thoughts–brought into me sight them two same blokes, now planted at the street corner. They just stood there, so long as I watched. They made not a move. They spake not–one unto the other. They but stood and stared, in our direction.
I will tell you I did not like this, Cap’n! And I’d every intention to do something about it, immediately! But as I arose from me writing desk, I heard a clamouring out in the street. I went over to the window and looked down to the street just in time to see a carriage move past. I thought that might be Annalea and Mam’ and Thad’ returning. And then a most chilling thought occured to me. If them two sorry-looking vagrants were really mercenary assassins, they could be upon me people afore I could reach them! Afore I could protect them!
I grabbed up me loaded pistol and me blade and made for the stairs in the quick-to. I fairly leaped across the stair treads, passing over a half a dozen stairs at a time–each time a foot landed! The momentum I gained carried me across the entryway and out across the threshold in a flash of energy–fueled by determination. I came barreling out across the yard, waving me weapons and making a considerable noise, as I went. And I was right, Cap’n. It was them: Mam’ and Annalea and Thad’. And I ran hard and fast, right into them!
“Papa! What is the matter with you?” Annalea was more than surprised.
“He done finally gone mad, prob’ly.” Mam’ observed.
“Are you alright, Father?” Thad’ expressed his concern.
“He done gone an’ got hisself drunk again, mos’ likely.” Mam’ displayed her compassion.
“I... I... uh... I, uh....” I stammered me way towards explanation and apology, as I looked over to the street corner and then gazed all about me. Gone. Them two blokes were nowheres to be seen. I felt a right git. I felt as foolish as a warrior who’d just invaded a little girls’ doll party. And I looked just about as misplaced.
I tried to explain to them all that I expected to find them in mortal danger; and that was the reasoning behind me raging theatrics. I’d hoped to frighten away an enemy–an obviously unseeable enemy. For now all looked about them. And all they now saw was a quiet, unoccupied, tree-lined avenue, embraced in the serenity of soft shadows and warm colours made manifest by the setting sun. ‘Twas a most lovely and comforting view–almost pastoral, and quite suitable for framing and hanging in the parlour. They all looked upon this. And then they looked back upon their misguided warrior.
Mam’ stepped direct up to me, placing her face into mine. I thought she wished to provide me a kiss. But instead, she took a sniff of me breath. “Dere it be! I smell dat drink!”