'Grindstone Island'

Sam brought the White Witch into the dock at Aunt Jane's Bay on Grindstone Island and 'First Mate' Robby MacTavish jumped out with the bowline before the boat had even touched the pier.

Grindstone was the fourth biggest isle in the 1000 Islands. The other three were all named after eighteenth century British generals ---Wolfe, Howe and Wellesley. Grindstone got its name when Jebadiha Everston and his brother Eli built the largest gristmill in the area, and for over two hundred years the Everston family did a bisque business grinding the wheat, barley and corn the local farmers brought in from the other islands and both sides of the St. Lawrence River. Now Sam was using the White Witch to help the old stone mill once again grind out its grain.

The present 'mill-boss', John Everston, the great-great-great grandson of Jebadiha Everston, had been born and raised on Grindstone and ever since the Pandemic had been instrumental in turning the dozen permanent families that lived there year round into a flourishing, self sufficient community of over two hundred people. The half dozen abandoned farms had been resettled by new 'survivors', and the saw-mill, creamery and cheese factory were once again going concerns. While most of the world had fallen back into a new 'Dark Age', life on Grindstone Island continued much like it had two hundred years ago --- hard working, self sufficient and prosperous.

Except for the by pirates.

"John, what exactly do you mean by 'pirates'?" Sam asked the Miller/Mayor of Grindstone as they moved out onto the porch after dinner for desert and/or a touch of John's 'home brew'.

"Those bastards from the 'Big Island'! They sailed in here with four bloody big wooden ships! As big or bigger than your 'Witch'! Full of armed men and towing smaller boats with large outboards on them!"

"From Howe Island?" Sam asked.

"Yes! Prince Roger Bloody Grant and his thieving crew!" John replied angrily, nearly spilling his drink in the process. "I remember hearing stories about 'Prince Roger' back when he was a teenager. Always in trouble, both here in the Isles and on the mainland. Got himself arrested and was given the choice of the army or jail. He chose the army and was shipped off somewhere. 'Good riddance' I said at the time and meant it!" Everston took a calming breath, then continued. "Years passed and we all thought he was never coming back ---- but 'bad pennies always show up' Granny Everston used to say and she was right. He came back when Old Man Grant got the cancer just before the Pandemic struck. --- almost five years ago now. The 'Warrior Prince' has been running the family smuggling business ever since then.'

"I remember hearing some of that," Sam said. "But why do you call him 'Prince' Roger'?"

It was Helen, not John, that answered that. "It's because of the Baroness of Curotte."

"And just who might that be?" Sam asked the woman he had taken to their senior prom all those years ago. Helen smiled and for a moment he was reminded of that young girl he had loved back then.

"The First Baroness of Curotte" she said; "was a French noblewoman who married one of Count Frontenac's generals, the Baron Curotte de Longueil, sometime in the early 1700's. Back when this was all still New France. Frontenac gave Wolfe Island, then called 'Grande Isle', to the Baron Curotte as a wedding present. He died sometime later and his wife, the Baroness of Curotte, married a Grant. There were two brothers and I can't remember which one she married. The Grant brothers went on to turn the island into a smuggling 'kingdom' and apparently always considered themselves have 'royal blood' in their veins --- hence the term 'Prince' being attached to every firstborn Grant son born on the island."

"I forgot how much you loved history," Sam beamed, as wave after wave of old memories washed over him. "You must have been a great teacher!"

"I was alright at it," Helen said wistfully. "It got harder though as the years went on --- all the drugs and broken homes don't make for happy teenagers."

"But you gave them a glimpse of other worlds and other times," Mary Everston put it. "You gave them something better and good to think about."

"Perhaps with some of them, especially the girls," Helen said. "The boys were mostly interested in the battles. Then the Pandemic came and everything changed. The schools closed, my husband died and I came back home to get away from all the trouble."

She looked around the deck at the four other people there with her. John Everston and his wife Mary; her old flame Sam --- and the strange, silent girl Fiona that he had rescued. "But it seems like trouble has found me after all." Her glanced flashed again to the strange young woman. "Found us all."

Sam, missing the true meaning of Helen's last remark, nodded to her, then turned back to Everston. "John, what is it exactly that Grant wants from you?"

"He wants us to hand over a portion our crops and animals to pay for his so-called 'protection'!"

"Protection?" Sam repeated. "Protection from what?!"

The big man waved his hand in a northerly direction. "According to Grant things have gone from bad to worse out there --- especially in the cities. He and his men offer protection from the 'mad mobs pouring out of Kingston, Gananoque, Sackets's Harbour and Watertown'. But the only 'mobs' I've seen are the hard eyed bastards that crew his gunships!"

"When did all this start, John?" Helen asked.

"We saw some hints of it last fall," when they came in their motorboats 'asking' for our help," Everston said. "They said that the Big Island is mostly windswept rock, that what few crops they planted failed and that his people would starve over the winter without our help."

"Did they threaten to take your food?"Sam asked.

"Not exactly," the large miller replied. "He said that if we'd share food with them they'd patrol the waterways and keep the scavengers away, especially that St.Nick's bunch over on Howe Island. I told them we're pretty damn good at taking care of ourselves, but that we'd share what we could with neighbours."

Sam shook his head. "But this spring they came again wanting more?"

Everston nodded agreement. "Prince Bloody Roger came last month as soon as the ice was out. He said that the winter had been rough and a number had died, including his father, and that they needed more food right away. I told him we were running low ourselves."

"And what did this 'prince' say to that?" Sam asked.

"That he planned to bring the other island communities 'under his protection' and that from now on they'd only take one quarter of what we produce instead of half." He made it sound like he was doing us a favour! The bastard's also got his eye on my young Janie! But I'll see him dead before he touches her!"

Helen, listening is shocked silence, glanced over at John's teenage daughter --- a pretty young blonde who was helping her mother serve coffee and dessert. "That's a lovely dress, Janie. How old are you now?" Helen noticed her hand trembling as she took one of the offered cookies.

"I'll be fifteen at the end of June, mam. Mother says I'm tall for my age."

Helen forced a smile, then glanced over at Janie's mother. The severely handsome woman gave Helen a look that told her that she too was sickened by the thought of some 'pirate/gangster' 'having his eye on' her sweet, little Janie! Helen also saw Sam looking at her; his easy smile had turned into a frown and his hazel eyes had gone wolf-grey --- a sure sign that he too was outraged.

"When do you expect them back, John?" Helen quietly asked.

"It's hard to say for sure, Helen. Since the ice went out they've been coming every month for their 'payment'." Everston looked at Sam and growled: "A lot of what you brought me today will go to them ---if we let them!"

"Husband!" John's wife Mary said fiercely. "We've already spoken of this! I'll not become a widow over a few bags of groceries!"

"And I'll not just sit idly by while, wife, and let some bloody river pirate take whatever he wants month after goddamned month! I'd rather die fighting than of starvation!"

Mary Everson was only half the size of her husband, but she easily matched him in ferocity. "And what 'grand ending' do you see for your daughter and myself when you have bravely met yours?! For we both know that a fast bullet won't be our fate! Not with men like that! Our ending, John" --- and here she pointed at young Janie --- 'and especially hers, will be a long time coming! Is that the end that you want for us, husband?!"

"Of course not, Mary!" Everson said, the anguish in his voice clear for all to hear. "But I can't just let these thieves slowly starve us to death either! Just come and take whatever they want! I have to fight them!"

"I understand that, John," Mary said calmly. "All of us here on the island will either have to fight them now or starve next winter." She cut her eyes to her daughter, and then over to Helen. "If they don't take everything we have before that! But perhaps we don't have to fight alone?"

Here fierce gaze lingered on Helen, then fixed on Sam. "These so called 'pirates' will soon be forcing the other island communities to 'pay for their protection' --- and it won't be long before they start the same thing on both sides of the river. Cape Vincent, Clayton and Alexandria Bay to the south --- and Gananoque and your own town of Mohawk to the north. How long Sam till these 'pirates' turn up at your door?"

Sam grunted out a mirthless laugh. "I've heard stories about the Grants, though I put them down to mostly idle gossip --- but they've always been troublemakers as well as smugglers. Old Randolph ruled the island like his own little kingdom, but it seems now that his son Roger has even bigger plans!" Sam's gaze shot over to young Janie, then back to her mother. "So we stop them here, on Grindstone, before the 'Prince of Wolfe Island' decides to become the 'King of the River'!"

"You mean, Sam?!" Everson asked. "You intend stay and fight with us?!"

"I'll fight with you, John, if it comes down to that," Sam agreed; "but first I want to go back to Mohawk and gather as many others as I can! Perhaps when this 'warrior prince' seems our numbers, he will be more inclined to negotiate."

"Negotiate?!" the big man repeated, a red flush showing through his heavy beard. 'Why the hell would we want to 'negotiate' with a bunch of river pirates?!"

Sam looked at the man he had known for several years. He couldn't say that they were 'close' friends, but they were friends nonetheless. "I have two reasons, John. The first is that a good deal of what this 'Prince Roger' said about the 'hungry mobs heading this way' is true. More and more desperate people are on the move. I deliver goods to a number of other communities besides yours, on the islands and up and down both sides of the river --- and many say the same thing --- groups of hungry people are everywhere. And hungry people, John, even good ones, can do terrible things. So yes, some sort of 'organized protection' for isolated communities is needed. I'm hoping we can work something out with this Roger Grant."

Everston was silent for several heartbeats, then spoke. "You said you had two reasons. What's the second?"

Sam took a step closer to the larger man. Not taller, just heavier. "I was a soldier for over fifteen years, John. And in that time I've seen more than my share of war and killing. Believe me, it's not heroic and it's not pretty. The Pandemic was terrible --- but war is even worse. Big ones, small ones, they're all the shame --- nothing but fear, cruelty and heartache with sudden, brutal, useless death all around you all the . In the end, John, no-one really wins, not even the winners. So yes, my friend, I will try 'negotiation' first."

Everston looked at his wife, saw her nod agreement to what Sam proposed, then did the same. "It's worth a try at least. How long do you think before you're back, Sam? Grant and his thieves could be back any time now."

"I'll leave at first light and be back as soon as I can!"Sam said. "Two or three days, John --- four at the most. But if they do come before we return, don't fight them. And don't threaten them or even mention that help is coming. That way they won't be ready for us when we drop in on them!

Everston's frown turned to a smile at that. "Catch the buggers off guard with one of your 'special forces' attacks, eh Sam?! Oh, I've heard a thing or two about your soldiering days. Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, that 'Blackhawk Down' place in Africa --- and a whole lot of other places most folk don't come back from!"

"That was a long time ago, John," Sam said quietly.

"Maybe so," Everston grinned. "But your still strong and fit --- and besides, an old dog still knows how to bite!"

Mary Everson moved forward and took Sam's hands in her own rough, work worn ones. "Thank you Sam. From the bottom of my heart I thank you all!"

"I agree with Mary, Sam!" Everson added. "All of Grindstone will thank you and those you bring with you! And now, a toast! To family, good friends --- and grinding out a fair deal with the bloody Grants!"

As the toast was being drunk Helen looked over at Fiona. As was her way the dark haired beauty had said very little either during or after the meal and was still silent even now --- but the strange smile on her face and the even stranger look in her eye caused a sudden shiver to run up Helen's spine.

***