“Then expect Laplume to come and attack us after noon is past.” Replied Labarique, somber. “He however doesn’t have enough warriors to attack directly the fort. He threatened to burn the houses around the fort and then torture captives in plain sight to convince us to give up our two prisoners.”
That made the Governor’s face harden, while Lambert Closse swore quietly to himself.
“Tudieu! We don’t have enough soldiers to protect all the houses outside the fort. We will have to evacuate all our people still outside the fort to safety.”
“May I suggest something, Your Excellency?” Said promptly Fernand, who was near the Governor and Closse. “If you have to evacuate houses, then bring their occupants to our inn, which is fortified. This way we will have two strong points able to provide mutual supporting fire to each other. Also, our inn will probably become the main target of that Laplume, since he will judge that it would be easier to attack than the fort itself. We could use that to mount an ambush for the Iroquois when they cross the river again.”
“Go on, Monsieur Bonnet.” Said de Maisonneuve, interested at once by that idea. Fernand then spent a minute describing his plan, after which the Governor and Closse discussed with him its finer details before coming to a decision.
“We will proceed as we just discussed then, gentlemen. Let’s start evacuating at once the families still outside the fort to the inn of Monsieur Bonnet: we don’t have much time left before noon.”
A period of frantic activity followed that decision, with Fernand and his associates put in charge of assembling in the inn the settlers living around it. The first problem came when Sister Jeanne Mance refused to evacuate her hospital, insisting on staying barricaded inside it. It took the direct intervention of the Governor to finally get her to let herself be escorted to the fortified inn, which was now housing over forty persons. The nursing sister was greeted there by Claudette, who was now in charge of the defense of the inn and was helped in this by Françoise and nine other musket shooters that were in turn supported by twenty more persons able to reload their spare muskets. Once de Maisonneuve was satisfied that the inn was well enough secured and defended, Fernand, his three agents, Ononkapis, Lambert Closse, Charles Le Moyne and five militiamen crawled from the inn to the nearby woods, intent on discreetly setting up an ambush point by the shoreline of the inn.
It didn’t take long after noon arrived for the Iroquois to get on the move. Fifteen canoes loaded with Iroquois warriors departed the south shore of the river and headed towards the north shore, skipping the western point of the Island of Sainte-Hélène, then heading towards the fortified inn, as hoped for by the Governor. The Iroquois, Laplume in the lead, chose to land in the wooded shoreline close to the fields surrounding the inn and the nearby houses. Fernand had judged that precise point to be the probable landing spot of the Iroquois and had convinced Charles Le Moyne and Lambert Closse of this. The moment that Laplume and four warriors beached their canoe ahead of the other Iroquois canoes, Charles Le Moyne jumped out of cover and pointed his musket literally in the face of the stunned Laplume, while Fernand, Henri and Michel pointed their own muskets at the four warriors accompanying their chieftain.
“One false move and you are all dead!” Warned Charles Le Moyne, his index on the trigger of his musket. At the same moment the voice of Lambert Closse came out of the woods as he gave an order to his hidden militiamen.
“AT THE CANOES STILL IN THE WATER, FIRE AT WILL!”
Eight muskets fired at once, dropping seven Iroquois out of their canoes and making two of the unstable boats tip sideways and sink, throwing more Iroquois in the water. A second salvo from the hidden French militiamen, who had each a spare musket ready to fire, followed less than ten seconds later, killing or wounding more Iroquois. One canoe with one dead Iroquois in its bow tried to rush to the shore and was nearly there when Nancy ran out of cover and fired her blunderbuss in their faces from less than five meters away. The three surviving Iroquois in that canoe were swept by the volley of lead pellets and fell in the water, dead or dying. With over a third of their warriors dead or captured before they could themselves fire once, the surviving Iroquois turned their canoes around, paddling desperately to get out of musket range as quickly as possible. That didn’t save them from a third salvo or from the rain of arrows Nancy started shooting from her longbow at an infernal rate. Having suffered for years from terror attacks by Iroquois raiders, the Frenchmen were in no mood to show mercy now and kept firing steadily until their enemies were out of range. By then, less than fourteen terrorized Iroquois had survived to paddle away to safety. Apart from Laplume and the four warriors captured with him, now solidly tied up and held face down in the mud of the shoreline, no mercy was shown to the wounded Iroquois trying to either swim to the shore or to merely keep their heads above the water, with the lot of them being methodically shot dead by the French. A concert of wild cheers followed the end of the firing: the latest threat to Ville-Marie had been decisively defeated with no losses to the French side. Lambert Closse, elated, surveyed the battleground and the river, now full of dead Iroquois floating downstream, pushed by the current. He then knelt and made a prayer of thanks, imitated by his militiamen and by Charles Le Moyne. Only Fernand, his three associates and Ononkapis, who were guarding the five Iroquois taken prisoners, refrained from praying then.
The return of the French force to the fort with their five prisoners was greeted by cheers from the occupants, with the Governor coming out to meet them. He first shook hands with Closse and Le Moyne, speaking to the first one while grinning.
“This is truly a day to remember in the history of Ville-Marie. How many Iroquois did you kill? How many escaped?”
“Maybe thirteen or fourteen Iroquois were able to flee, Your Excellency.” Answered Closse soberly. “We captured five of them, including this loud mouth of Laplume, and killed over thirty of them. We are however still not safe, far from it. Those surviving Iroquois will bring the news of our victory to their band, which will then probably send a strong war party to avenge their warriors. We will have to stay vigilant for the next few weeks and months.”
“As we always have been.” Replied de Maisonneuve, his initial enthusiasm now falling off. “Let’s hope that some of those Iroquois will come to their senses and will try to discuss instead of continuing this endless killing spree. Were you able to capture some of the enemy weapons?”
Closse then proudly showed him five militiamen loaded down with a collection of muskets and pistols.
“The powder we collected from the dead Iroquois is wet and will have to be carefully dried and remixed, but we captured eighteen muskets and seven pistols. Most of those weapons are of Dutch manufacture.”
“That doesn’t come exactly as a surprise to me.” Replied the Governor while making a face. “These weapons will however come handy indeed to reinforce our defenses. Again, good work, all of you! Monsieur Le Moyne, you go put those prisoners in irons and throw them in jail. Closse, you tell our people in the inn that they can return to their homes…until the next alert. We will talk tonight about what to do next concerning the Iroquois.”
“Yes, Your Excellency!” Both said Le Moyne and Closse before carrying out the Governor’s orders.
Fernand, his associates and Ononkapis were able to return to the inn in time for supper, having been released from duty by Lambert Closse. While Claudette and Françoise respectively hugged and kissed Fernand and Henri, Nancy got a warm hug from little James Walker. The strength of the boy’s grip told Nancy that he was still very much in emotional distress, although not as badly as yesterday. His despair finished convincing Nancy, who had anyway pretty much made her mind already after getting via radio the results of Elizabeth’s inquiry in England. Holding James gently by his shoulders, she looked straight into his big, sad eyes, and spoke softly to him.
“James, I know that you need and want someone to care for you and love you. If you want, I wish to be that person.”
“You would be ready to be my new mother?” Said the boy in a shaking voice, tears coming to his eyes.
“Yes, I would. My friends here also would be ready to care for you whenever I would have to go in the woods. They are good people whom I consider like family for me. Do you accept to stay with me, James?”
“Yes!” Answered the boy timidly but without hesitation. A lump in her throat, Nancy then hugged him for long seconds. Looking into his eyes again, she kissed him on both cheeks, then got up and took him by the hand.
“Come, James: we will tell Fernand about our decision.”
Nancy intercepted Fernand as he was about to go to his room to drop off his weapons and gear.
“Fernand, me and James have something to tell you. Do you have a minute?” She said in English. Fernand looked at her, then at little James and smiled, answering also in English.
“I think that I know what you want to talk about, Nancy. Come to my room with me.”
Going together up the stairs to the upper floor of the west wing, the trio soon entered the large bedroom used by Fernand and Claudette. Fernand closed the door before facing Nancy and James, looking specifically at Nancy.
“Go ahead, Nancy.”
“Fernand, I offered to take care of James and he accepted. I will take him with me when I will leave Ville-Marie to return in France.”
Fernand nodded his head at once, smiling to her.
“You have my wholehearted support in this, Nancy. If you need any help with James, me and Claudette will be most happy to oblige. Did you tell James about Charles?”
“Not yet. That’s next.”
Fernand nodded, then went to James and crouched in front of him, smiling to him and playing with his blond hair.
“You are a lucky boy, James: Nancy is an exceptional girl in all respects. She is also very kind and caring. You will be happy with her.”
“I believe so, sir.” Said timidly James, prompting Fernand to shake a finger at him.
“Call me Fernand, not sir. In this inn, we all call each other by our first names.”
He then got back up and let Nancy go out with the boy. Nancy in turn brought James to her own bedroom, where she got rid of her weapons and haversack before leading James to the bed, sitting on the edge of it with him.
“If we are to care about each other, James, then we have to know each other. I will start first. Officially I am not married. I however love very much a Frenchman whom I cannot marry for a number of reasons. I can assure you though that he also loves me very much. His name is D’Artagnan and he is the most loyal and honest man you could think of. I had a baby boy from him, who is now three years old and is named Charles. He is presently being cared for by relatives of mine while I am in New France. You will be able to see him soon enough. Next, I have a secret, a big one I don’t want other people here to know: I am a marquess.”
“What is a marquess?” Asked James, making Nancy smile.
“A marquess is the same thing as a countess, but people don’t use that title in England.”
James’ eyes widened at those words.
“Then, you must be rich and important!”
“Rich, not really, but I am comfortable. Important? Well, it depends where. You see, my title is well known only at the court of the King of France, who is a good friend of mine. In other places, I try to be discreet about it, like here.”
“Why?”
“For a number of reasons, which you will understand when we will leave New France in a few months. Mostly, it has to do about avoiding enemies.”
“Do you have a lot of enemies, Nancy?”
“Let’s say that I live a dangerous life, James.” She replied, most serious. “Now, tell me about you. Did your parents make you learn something? They must have, since you speak French already.”
“My father was a merchant and wanted me to learn many languages, so that I could help him one day with his business. Since our family had money, he paid a private teacher for me and my older brother.”
“So, what did you learn, apart from French?” Asked Nancy, smiling down at him.
“I was learning how to read, write and count. Our teacher also showed us maps, so that we would know how this country was made and how to go around it.”
“That is indeed very good for a boy of your age, James.” Said Nancy, meaning it. “Now, I believe that it is suppertime. Did Claudette wash you while I was gone?”
“She gave me a warm bath last evening.”
“Then you will only need to wash your hands before supper. As for me, I’m afraid that I need a bath, badly.”
“Should I come with you?” Said James innocently, not meaning wrong but making Nancy grin.
“That would not be considered proper, James.” She said with a smile. ‘’Come, I will show you where you can wash your hands.”
Before leaving her room, Nancy grabbed a set of fresh clothes and a large towel, then went with James to the nearest bathroom on the upper floor, where she showed him the small counter, with its wash basin, water pot and towel. Once the boy had washed his hands, Nancy went down with him to the kitchen and showed him the bathing area. She however didn’t go beyond the privacy curtain with James, as someone was evidently having a bath in there.
“Who is in there?” She asked through the curtain, getting a male voice in answer.
“It’s me, Michel! I won’t be long.”
“I’ll wait!”
Nancy then grabbed a large iron bucket and, using the hand pump in the kitchen, filled it halfway with water and, with a marked effort, put it on top of the stove so that the water could warm up. While the stove did its work, she served to James a good bowl of stew and a piece of bread, making him sit at the small table sitting in one corner of the kitchen, where Catherine Lorion was also eating.
“Have supper while I wash. I won’t be long.”
Michel was coming out of the bathing area, wearing a clean shirt and trousers, as she approached with her bucket of lukewarm water. He didn’t help her with it, not because he wasn’t a gentleman but rather because he knew from experience that she disliked it when someone assumed that she was too weak for a task. Filling the bathtub that Michel had just emptied, Nancy took a quick bath, toweled herself dry and put on a simple dress over a shirt, all in less than fifteen minutes. James was still eating when she joined him at the kitchen’s table. The poor boy evidently had been malnourished during his time with the Iroquois and was taking his time, his restricted stomach not allowing him to eat too fast. Thankfully, his first question to her then had nothing to do with his recent ordeal.
“Nancy, what do you do to earn money? My father always said that hard work was the mark of an honest man.”
“That is certainly an opinion typical of a Puritan, and a fairly correct one at that, James. Basically, I am paid by Fernand to hunt, fish and guide him while in New France. As an associate, I also get a part of the profit made by this inn.”
“And when you go back to France?”
“Then, I have another work at the King’s court, for which I get an annual pension from the King.”
“What kind of work, Nancy?”
Claudette, who was passing nearby at that time, grinned as she eyed the blond boy.
“Kids will always be curious. Right, Nancy?”
“I am starting to see that.”
With Catherine Lorion still at the table with them, Nancy debated for a moment how to answer James, finally finding the right words for it.
“I am a court lady, someone who goes around with the King and help him look like, well, the King. The King always must have a lot of nobles around him, both to counsel him and to boost his prestige with foreign guests and visitors. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Nancy.”
“It must be fascinating to be close to the King like this all the time.” Said timidly Catherine Lorion, feeling a bit envious of Nancy. Nancy made a face at that.
“Not always, Catherine. Some of the ministers and nobles around him could be quite arrogant at times and treat anyone under them like dirt. The higher born noblewomen in particular could be downright mean and ignorant with others. You also wouldn’t believe the petty intrigues going around the palace.”
Nancy ended up talking about palace gossip and intrigues for another good ten minutes, until Claudette put a serving tray with a pitcher of wine and four cups in front of her.
“Nancy, you can be a real chatterbox at times. Here, time to help serve the customers. It seems that the whole of Ville-Marie is here tonight to celebrate today’s victory on the Iroquois.”
“Gee! I can understand them, Claudette.”
“Oh, I do too, but they still need to be served. Go! Scram!”
“Alright, alright, I’m going!” Replied Nancy with a smile before speaking to James. “I will be back shortly, James. If you need anything, ask Claudette: she doesn’t bite, at least not officially.”
Nancy then pulled her tongue at Claudette before leaving with her tray, making James laugh at the false expression of indignation Claudette made then.
14:10 (Quebec Time)
Friday, July 16, 1655
Ville-Marie
Paul Chomedey de Maisonneuve felt a wave of exhilaration nearly overtake him when the ranks of the Iroquois that had come to conclude the exchange of prisoners broke open, letting pass a group of eleven pitiful-looking French men, women and children. Five weeks of tough, often risky negotiations between his people and the famous Iroquois war captain known as Lagrandarmée were finally paying off handsomely. Apart from the five children taken at the Geese Island, six other French settlers from various outposts and settlements had just returned from Iroquois captivity, in return for the release of the three Iroquois chieftains and four warriors held up to now in Ville-Marie. On the appearance of the French ex-captives, de Maisonneuve made a sign to Lambert Closse, who in turn ordered his soldiers to let go the seven Iroquois men they were surrounding. As per a prearranged ceremonial, all but three warriors or soldiers from each side and the French and Iroquois commanders withdrew with their respective people. Now facing Lagrandarmée from less than three paces, de Maisonneuve calmly took one step, imitated by the Iroquois captain, and shook hands firmly with him.
“May this peace of the brave stop the suffering on both sides.” Said solemnly the Iroquois leader in his language. His words were immediately translated by Nancy, one of the three designated bodyguards for de Maisonneuve. The Governor nodded, then spoke in French, with Nancy again playing interpreter.
“And may this peace of the brave endure, so that both of our people could learn to respect and live peacefully with each other.”
Lagrandarmée nodded in approval at those words, then sat down, imitated by de Maisonneuve. Their respective bodyguards also sat down, two paces behind their leaders, and waited silently as the latter smoked together a peace pipe, then exchanged gifts. Nancy was the sole bodyguard to speak during those phases of the ceremony, translating back and forth in French and Iroquois. Without showing it, she felt excitement, for two reasons: one, because of the release of the eleven French captives and, two, because of the fact that this was allowing her to record from up close a truly historical event via the micro-camera and microphone hidden in her Amerindian headband. While proud of her role in all this, having with Labarique and Father Lemoyne conducted most of the contacts and discussions with the Iroquois, she knew that the final Time Patrol documentary on Ville-Marie was going to be carefully edited so that she and the other Time Patrol field agents appeared as little as possible in it. That was not because the Time Patrol was unappreciative of their efforts on this mission, far from it, but rather because it wanted to focus on the real heroes of this story: the settlers and founders of Ville-Marie.
After maybe forty minutes of head-to-head talks and gestures, the ceremony was concluded and the two parties prepared to go their respective way. Before he left, though, Lagrandarmée stopped briefly and turned around, saying a few words in Iroquois to Nancy, taking her by surprise. The Iroquois leader then walked away with his bodyguards. Intrigued, de Maisonneuve looked at her, waiting for the Iroquois to be out of earshot before asking her.
“What did he tell you, Mademoiselle Laplante?”
“That he and his people were going to remember me, then calling me in Iroquois ‘the French woman from the woods’. It kind of made me feel proud.”
“As you should be, mademoiselle.” Replied at once de Maisonneuve, dead serious. “We owe you, Father Lemoyne and this big Labarique a lot. Be assured that your name will figure prominently in my letter to Governor Lauson about this peace deal.”
“Please don’t, Your Excellency.” Said at once Nancy, surprising de Maisonneuve. “I would prefer that my name not be mentioned anywhere. When describing what I did, simply credit it to a French coureur de bois. That would be plenty to satisfy me.”
“Decidedly, you are indeed an uncommon girl, mademoiselle. Very few people I know would miss such a chance at gaining fame.”
Nancy responded with a shrug and a smile.
“Well, you should know me by now, Your Excellency. I work better in the shadows.”
“Indeed, Mademoiselle Laplante! Indeed!”
08:19 (Quebec Time)
Monday, September 6, 1655
AUBERGE DU CHASSEUR
Ville-Marie
It took Nancy much longer than she had expected to say her goodbyes along the shoreline before leaving with her little James for Quebec to take a ship ride to France: half of the people of Ville-Marie seemingly wanted to wish her good luck, many with tears in their eyes. Last in line but not least in her eyes were Catherine Lorion, Ononkapis and Mistibis. Catherine, who had remarried in June with Jean Simon and was no longer working at the inn, was particularly emotional about her departure.
“I feel like dying right now, Nancy. Are you sure that you need to go back to France?”
“I am, Catherine.” Replied softly Nancy. “The King expects me back at his court, while I have a lover and a son that I haven’t seen for over a year now.”
“Will I ever see you again?” Asked the French girl, her voice half-strangled. Herself having difficulty not to shed tears, she managed to answer back.
“I will, at least once. That I promise. Goodbye, Catherine.”
“Goodbye, Nancy.”
Stepping next in front of Ononkapis, who was holding a crying Mistibis, Nancy looked at both tenderly, speaking to them in Algonquin.
“Ononkapis, of all the friends I had here you were by far the most loyal and honest. Words wouldn’t suffice for this occasion, so I decided to leave you something more concrete.”
Ononkapis’ eyes widened when she presented him her English longbow and the quiver of yard-long arrows that went with it.
“This bow is now yours, my friend. May you have many successful hunts with it.”
Ononkapis took slowly the longbow, handling it like the most precious thing in the World, then stared with tears in his eyes at her.
“I will remember you every time I will use it. May the Great Spirit watch over you, Nancy.”
“And on you too, little James.” Added Mistibis before looking up at Nancy. “I owe you my freedom and a happy life with a good husband. How can I ever repay my debt to you?”
“As I said before, Mistibis, by being happy. May you and Ononkapis prosper and live many Winters.”
Then grabbing the part of her kit that was not already in her canoe, she shook hands one last time with her five Time Patrol colleagues, who were due to stay another year in Ville-Marie before selling their inn and disappearing deep inside the woods on the pretext that they were switching business to the fur trade.
“Good luck with your business here, guys, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“If we did that, Father Pijart would damn all of us to Hell.” Replied Michel, grinning, making everybody laugh. Nancy, dressed in her Amerindian hunting clothes and with her hands full of kit and weapons, then got in her canoe with James. One push from Fernand and Michel and she was on her way, going down the current while paddling at an easy rhythm. She couldn’t help look back one last time at the people of Ville-Marie present to watch her go before they disappeared from direct sight at a bend of the river. Her heart heavy, she looked at James, who was sitting in front of her in the middle of the canoe. James too had tears in his eyes.
“We just left many good friends indeed, my dear James, but I promise you that, where we are going, you will find many more friends. You will also live with me a life you couldn’t even start to dream about right now.”
“It still hurts to lose those friends, Nancy.”
“I know,” said Nancy in a resigned tone, “it always does.”
20:51 (Quebec Time)
Friday, April 19, 1720
Côte Saint-Martin
Montreal (formerly Ville-Marie)
On the urging of one of her grand-daughters, the few relatives still present left the old woman’s bedroom to let her rest on what was probably going to be her last night in this World. Soon alone in the dark room, the 84 year-old woman had nothing else to do but reflect on her life, her four marriages, eleven children and 56 grand-children. It had been a hard life but it had been worth it in the end: she could say proudly that she had left an enduring legacy in and around Montreal and had earned the title of pioneer of Ville-Marie. If only some of her early friends could have been here on this night to stay with her until her final moment. Gone was Jeanne Rousselier, dead over thirty years ago somewhere in the Acadie. Gone was Jacques Morin, dead for twenty years now. Gone was Marguerite Landreau, passed away in 1680, along with her husband Hubert, who had survived her for only seven years. Gone was also the kind Sister Marguerite Bourgeoys, dead at the age of eighty in 1700, a woman to whom she owed so much.
A movement in the dark room suddenly distracted her from her souvenirs. Her weak, tired eyes could only make out a dark from approaching her bed silently. Catherine did not feel fear then: she had nothing left to fear by now, except of dying alone. The person then knelt besides her bed and started caressing her hair, while approaching its face to only centimeters from Catherine’s face. She saw that the newcomer was a very tall teenage girl with long black hair and that there were tears in her eyes.
“Catherine, it’s me, Nancy, your friend who came from France with you in 1654. Do you remember me?”
“Nancy? How could it be? You still look so young.”
Somehow, Catherine knew that this was really her long lost friend: the voice was the same and the face of Nancy was as beautiful as ever.
“Catherine, the how is not important. The only important thing is that I am here with you and will stay by your side to the last moment.”
“Nancy, I want to know.” Said Catherine weakly. “Who are you really?”
Young hands then caressed tenderly her face.
“I am a time traveler, Catherine. So are Fernand, Henri, Michel, Claudette and Françoise. They are all alive and well.”
Tears then came to Catherine Lorion’s eyes: however fantastic was her friend’s explanation, it fit well with what she had been then. She had known for a long time that Nancy and her friends were special people.
“You said that you were going to stay with me, Nancy?”
“I did and I will, Catherine.”
The teenager then took hold of Catherine’s right hand and lay her head on the pillow, right besides the old woman’s head. When Nancy raised her head and let go Catherine’s hand hours later, a happy smile was gracing her friend’s dead face.
The seventh and last novel of this series, TO THE SANDS OF MARS, will be published in early 2015.