In the stronghold of Quebec, Constantin had been accepted and praised as a hero. The young man resembled more a native - from the way he dressed and the way he talked – commanders and officers could hardly believe he had been on board of the French vessel.
“Word has come around the King of France has sent us soldiers for protection,” the Governor Frontenac proclaimed loud and fiercely. His words suddenly calmed down the noisy atmosphere in the court. Respectful faces turned towards the Governor while soldiers lifted their rifles and bayonets in sign of salutation.
“That vessel you are referring to has been taken by surprise and has drown in the outer bay of the Saint Lawrence river, Sir” Constantin replied with a clear and audible voice. When these words were pronounced a first wave of depression conquered the heart of the Province and its inhabitants. Suddenly they felt abandoned by their own mother country...
“Where is the crew? Has it all dismantled and deserted or have you been entirely defeated?” a voice came from behind the commanding board as an officer stepped in the light.
“Most of us have been defeated, I’m sad to say... The squad of men I belonged to, we’ve been captured by natives and treated worse than slaves,” Constantin gave a precise description of the events.
“And yet you’ve managed to escape and come to meet us here,” the Governor replied with a bright smile wiping away dark memories.
Constantin’s head turned to the ground his eyes slowly searched those of the man who spoke to him. He took off his cloak and said: “I’ve come to the New World to reach out and discover the native culture, its treasures and mysteries... in the name of the King of France I am in charge to explore the unknown and learn through the elements and clues left by the natives”.
Constantin’s intentions appeared somehow utopic if not completely out of sense due to the harsh political conditions and military layout of the land. To carry out such a mission was indeed a risky mission and the academic spent several weeks with the commanders’ board before he could finally convince them.
“Open the gates and let the men go!” a voice could be heard from the ramparts up above.
“What’s it good for? Why’d he come from the Continent, told us he lost his crew and all this just to let us know our King has abandoned us here forever more...” a grunchy old lady mumbled while the men stepped towards the exit. The Indian woman climbed on her horse and Constantin rode beside her. Their departure was less appreciated by the folks of Quebec than their arrival was. It seemed like citizens’ expectations had vanished and rays of cruel reality peered into their souls.
The squad of about a dozen men rid westward through the forest, climbed the mountains and always aimed further ahead. Constantin had become their leader and Pierre was in charge of a strategic and military overlook. Their coats of hide mingled with the wilderness, mixing with trees and leaves... Word had come around of Constantin’s academic origins and the young man still had to convince a great part of the men who travelled with him, especially soldiers, of his strength and determination. However, the men spoke during their advance and digging into the wilderness. Rumours were frequent and would soon become the foundations of contestants.
“I really don’t see the point in it,” one of the men in the squad began arguing.
“Honoured soldiers we are and were trained to be and... look, there we go seeking through wilderness with such an academic fool...” his companion grumbled back, conveying quite the same sarcasm.
In the late morning of their first day the weather conditions seemed to clear up. Constantin and Pierre summoned their people together and Constantin jumped off his horse. He stepped in the middle of the circle and began:
“Welcome to all of you and thanks for coming along with me,” his first words made some of the soldiers grin as they were commanded to follow him, therefore were not given deliberate choice.
Constantin sensed this and went on “I know some of you didn’t have and weren’t given the choice indeed, and it might seem odd for you as this reaches far away from military missions” Suddenly Pierre interfered and his strong voice somehow overwhelmed Constantin’s:
“A mission it is for you, a “mission” as any other mission can be commanded to you. Your role is more of protection and anticipation of a conflict than of direct confrontation,” Pierre’s voice rang like an order, his military pitch at the highest, authoritative and firm.
The six men looked at each other and nobody dared to speak. The words of their direct superior still rang clear in their ears but their opinions and minds were not affected and their ideas remained the same.
The horses stirred and Constantin looked at his Indian friend. She didn’t look back, she was looking at the far distance and path they would have to follow. Constantin turned to the men and said: “We have to make the best progress possible in the light of day so as to find a safe refuge for the night. Watch out for any sign in the surroundings while we may be stepping on native grounds. Animals are not the sole danger...”
© 2016 Matt Oehler
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