73

Hugs and handshakes and greetings for “Armitage! Armitage!” Rang out across the small gathering space beside Hemlock Creek. A good number had turned out. Around twenty. Firstly, it was still winter and so people were home. Secondly word had got out that Armitage would be there. Many of them loved that man and missed him greatly. Finally, no one had called a meeting in some time, and it was likely to be the fount of great gossip. Many had a look of disappointment when they saw others in attendance that they had hoped to twist some truths for in the coming days.

People took their seats in the small amphitheatre facing the spot where Wesley took his stand.

“You know but one of our guests. He’s here with a brave young lad. Another that our friend Armitage has stood to take charge of in the face of a terrible tragedy. I appreciate you all being here. You know that Armitage stepped in to help our people avoid violent retribution. Only for our mutual loss to beset him while he was here with us. With the loss of my daughter - Sara, and yours; Frances, Roger.”

He nodded to the two men on the second row before continuing. He held his wampum belt firmly in his right hand, running its thumb across its shells. Calum noticed how scared he was - like he’d seen the neighbour standing in his gown on his rear stoop, but where his neighbour shrank in his fear, Wesley but grew in his bravery.

“The news young Calum brings reminds me how vital our traditions are. Traditions I have forgotten. I see how we have rested upon something that in truth leans on us. Presses and makes demands of us. Demands that we have ignored or passed on in our own grief to those willing to try to stand under them. We are the fire-keepers of the Iroquois, I fear that we have stood by and let it die. I certainly did. The day we lost our wives.”

He unrolled the wampum and laid it across the table in front of him. The two squares either side of the great white tree in the centre of the belt, all connected. He pointed to each and named the tribes, before holding his hand above the great tree that represented the Onondaga - mediator between the brother tribes.

“You recall the one in fiercest opposition to this confederacy - our Great Law of Peace?” Continued Wesley - “Do you still speak to your children of the warlord? The twisted one with snakes in his hair? Of Thadodaho.”