Snippet

In the cottage, after hearing the old man's story..... 

“If you don’t believe, then what have you to report but the ramblings of a crazy old shepherd?  But no, I think it best if you do believe.  You shall accompany Eliza on her next calling, and witness for yourself the truth in what I say” said the old man with iron in his voice. “Till then, you should be our guest here.  We only get as much warning as is necessary, and if you are not here when our ancestors call you cannot witness the truth”.

Charles had time to think on his trek to the port village to gather his clothes and gear.  It was even longer on his way back with his duffle hanging off his shoulders, but the sweat helped him clear his mind.   He’d heard lots of stories growing up in Kentucky, where his people had been since before it was a state.  He supposed Malta had seen its people’s blood spilt enough that anything might be possible here too.  His own grandmother had a habit of talking to spirits, and nobody there was man enough to call HER crazy.  Family tradition said she’d planted more revenuers than any ten Shiners in the county combined.  If granny could talk to ‘The Ancestors’, then why not these people?

Back at the cottage, he was shown a room to use.  It had been the boys, but he had happily moved to the small barn to make room (and just happen to be out from under his sisters thumb).

Charles took a chance on speaking with Eliza. “Your rifle is an old Springfield, like our Marines use now.  Another American weapon like your Colt.  Why American guns?”

Eliza studied him with a calculating gaze.  “Americans make good weapons.  I think your people understand war.  I wonder if America also makes good men?”

Charles shivered as he tried to look away from her eyes.  He was being judged, and not just by Eliza and her father.