71

Calum woke up late. Padded across the carpet and looked out the window across to the woods out the back of Wesley’s house. No neighbours. The two great men sat on two adirondack chairs at the rear of the property. He quickly changed and made his way down to join them. He wanted to hear everything Wesley said. He was one of those rare people you were desperate to listen to but who made you so comfortable and important that you couldn’t help but blither on. Calum was bad with that at the best of times. He brought his brother to mind. Looked at him, and willed himself to channel his quiet presence today. He needed Wesley to help make sense of what was happening. Quiet, Cal, he told himself.

They had made a big pot of cedar tea, enough for another round of full mugs. Calum carried it out two-handed and poured a second cup for the two men before returning inside and pouring his own. A moment later, the three of them were sitting in their chairs, Calum’s swallowing him, his feet just managing to flop over the crest of the long seat. He’d heard the bones of their conversation. Mr Armitage wanted to meet the council of elders.

“You can’t just call them together, Phil, especially not at such late notice.”

“Some of them will be available, though, Wes, I’m not asking for a vote on anything.”

“Yes, but you’re not calling them, are you? I am. You’re asking me to gather them, and I’m the one who has to live with these people after you fuck off back home.”

Mr Armitage had remained silent. He looked a little like he was praying. Then Wesley stood up, reached into his jeans, pulled out an old Nokia, and carefully keyed in a number with the tip of his great finger.

“See if they’re around tonight. Tell them it’s important - it’s about my Sara.” He hung up and turned back to Mr Armitage. “We’ll meet at the shelter over the campsite tonight. See who turns up.” Mr Armitage nodded a great silent thanks and leant back.

Wesley sat back down. Thanked Calum again for topping up their teas. He suggested the three of them take a walk. He spoke to Calum of his daughter, who had been ten when her mother had died. He talked to Calum directly, his guardian walking along ten paces behind them. The girls had belonged to the three most powerful families in the Onondaga, and by extension, the whole Iroquois Confederacy. The men in these tribes take office; they are the chiefs. But it is the women who hold the power of appointment. Their death placed the entire peace at risk. They would not have returned to clubs, knives and raiding bands. But retribution was seriously considered. It was only the lack of an agreed enemy and no group taking ownership of the attack that spared the other Haudenosaunee nations from violent retaliation. Mrs Careen was wrong. The girls were not adopted by Mr Armitage because they were outcast. They were sent away because they feared the vengeance they would inflict upon the neighbouring nations when they came of age. Peace never strengthens. It is an ever-tender shoot.

“And how - sorry - how did she die, your wife I mean?” Asked Calum.

“A fire, the three of them were at Bethany’s mother's. I imagine just drinking and listening to music in the basement flat. They said there was some issue with the furnace, but the door was locked from the outside.”

Calum was silent.