The Traitor's Stain (wattys 2019)

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Setauket, Long Island

Colonel Erikson didn't know how to feel about Mr. Otetiani De Jong.

The man made him uncomfortable. Very, very uncomfortable. He walked around like a wild animal ready to pounce, his eyes made him seem as if he were tearing you apart in his mind, he spoke as if he were one external misstep away from unleashing his fury on the world; all and all, not the sort of person he wanted to associate with.

But, he was trusted by Major Andre. And Andre was a good man, who didn't mislay his trust in people. There must have been a side of the young Mohawk that he wasn't seeing, one that made him worthy of the trust of a man like Andre.

It was with that thought in mind that he readied his house for his guest, that night. And, unlike many of his men, it truly was his house in the colonies: the house had been abandoned by its previous occupants when the army began to occupy the city, presumably rebel sympathizers who didn't want to be caught in town when the royal army arrived. They hadn't taken a single thing with them: even the slaves stayed on the property, abandoned. Now, they were his slaves, and would be until he went back home to Britain at which point they would all become free.

"How's it coming, Mary?" Colonel Erikson asked as he entered the dining room, where his main house slave was setting the table.

"I've just finished with the table, sir," Mary said. "I used the European style, just like you asked."

Colonel Erikson walked around the table, inspecting her work. "Excellent work: you're catching on to my preferences quickly."

"Thank you, sir," Mary said. "What else needs to be done? Moses has been working on the food, and Ezekiel and James just about have the house cleaned, I think."

"I think that'll be it," Colonel Erikson said. "Do you know if Moses got some wine out of the cellar, yet?"

"I'm not sure, sir," Mary said. "Shall I check for you?"

"Yes," Colonel Erikson said. "Make certain he chose a good vintage if he has. If not, get one of the Bordeaux reds from the cellar."

"Yes, sir."

Mary performed a quick curtsy and left.

Colonel Erikson looked around the room, doing one last inspection. Everything was in its place, with not so much as the small paintings on the walls out of place. Yes: Ezekiel and James had done a good job.

"Master Erikson, Mr. De Jong has arrived," he heard James call from the parlor.

Colonel Erikson looked in the mirror and adjusted his coat and hat, then left the room.

Otetiani was standing by the door, looking around at the building. He didn't seem overly impressed, not that Colonel Erikson minded. He still had that angry look on his face, however, and it seemed to make James uncomfortable. Colonel Erikson couldn't fault James for that: there likely wasn't a soul who'd met the Indian who didn't feel uncomfortable around him.

"Master Erikson, Otetiani De Jong of the Iroquois Confederation," James said, motioning to Otetiani with one hand.

Colonel Erikson smiled as warmly as he could. "Good afternoon, Mr. De Jong! I'm pleased to finally be having lunch with you."

Otetiani nodded and grunted. Colonel Erikson guessed that that was as close as the boy got to manners: he didn't exactly seem to be the most civilized of natives.

"Come: let's get to the dining room," Colonel Erikson said, motioning one arm towards the dining room.

Another grunt, and Otetiani followed him to the dining room.