This is the story of an american girl from the time of the first great american war. Alyson Giovanni, is the daughter of an Italian man who has ties to 'the ghost' and an English noble woman who happens to also be the neice of a certain Brittish General. With the help of her friend and uncle Aly must revenge their families and defeat the Green Dragoons with the help of the american rebels... And of our favorite brittish Colonel's is in for a particularly nasty surprise..
(oh and I do not Own or have any claim to The Patriot , or any of it's original characters so don't sue me k?) Please enjoy!
Artimis
Continuing Existance
Burning Memories: ch 1
I've always loved the lake in my grandfathers back field. It was where my father taught me how to swim, and my uncle taught me how to fish. Uncle Ricky is my favorite uncle, and my fathers youngest brother. Dad being the oldest out of ten siblings, and sixteen years older than Rickey made it so that my uncle and I are only three years apart.
We grew up together on my Grandparents plantation in South Carolina, but six years ago when I turned ten father decided to move to North Carolina to start a new life for him and I since mother had died of pneumonia the winter before. We had been welcomed by my Aunt Mariana and her 'fiance' at the time Antonio Vondages. Mariana is my dad's oldest sister and the second eldest of the ten siblings that my Grandma and Grandpa Giovanni had spawned.
Aunt Mariana has always on the somewhat girly side, and is constantly trying to get me to find a male companion or what she calls a 'boyfriend'. When will she learn that I'm just more of the lone type?
She had always adored my mother though, if not only for her title. For you see my mother was Lady Alexandra Cornwallis before her marriage to my father, and the Cornwallisâ–“ are a very highly regarded British family.
My mothers parents had unfortunately decided to stay in Massachusetts, and had died of a fire before my birth. The fire, luckily, only damaged a few of the rooms in my grandparents estate, and they had left said estate to me, their only grandchild. My mother was an only child you see, and I in turn am also an only child.
So, now when I turn eighteen I will have 82 acres in southern Massachusetts waiting for me and a very large mansion that has already been fix of its fire damage. My mother had also went up to her parents funeral after she had received word of their demise and had sold most of their belongings for cash money.
That money, along with my inheritance, is hidden in an iron safe that daddy buried underneath my favorite tree. Next to this lake, on my Grandfather's plantation. My 'money tree' if you will.
As I sit against said favorite tree I look out onto the lake that holds so many of my childhood memories. This is where I belong, next to my tree, the tree that mother had brought in from her parents estate after they had died. She had replanted it here as a reminder to our family of where we began our roots. Not that we would need any reminding, ours is a very close, hugs & kisses, type of family.
The reason for me being back in the place of my childhood is one that brings a sneer to my face. Father has decided to remarry, and to a woman that I absolutely loathe. Cecil Adams is a prissy, whorish, spoiled, bitch. If you'd pardon my French.
She is everything that my mother was not. Cecil is from a poor French family, can hardly speak the English language, cannot read or write, finds the need to try to put me into frilly pink things like I'm some sort of doll for her to play with. The rebellion in me is of course disgusted by these things and we are often found yelling at each other.
The sound of gun fire shocks me out of my hateful thoughts of Miss Cecil Adams. The shock causes me to fall ten feet down from where I was lounging comfortably in my tree, and into the thankfully soft and springy mosses and ferns growing at it's base. Luckly the horses haven't gotten to these springy patches yet.
Turning quickly away from the lake and to my grandparents manor I am horrified at what I see rising up from my beloved home. Flames licking high into the sky, past the tall wet grass that covers most of Grandads estate. Thick, billowing, black smoke which could only mean one thing. They, whoever 'they' were, had set my grandparents house on fire.
Racing back to the manor on a well worn and memorized deer path, I can soon smell the black smoke and ash that threatens to swallow up the sky. My eyes tear up from the stinging of the smoke as I continue to run towards my family, but I will be strong no matter what. I will not cry, they will not be given the pleasure of seeing me break.
As a celebration of the Giovanni family's 100th year in the colonies my grandparents had thrown a family reunion, gathering our large family from across the colonies. Everyone that I love is in that house, and so help me if they all die, there will be some kind of Hell to pay for whomever caused the fire.
My only family member who is not here is my Aunt Mariana. She would have been, but is currently pregnant with twins and her husband, my new uncle, Antonio said that it would be too dangerous for her to travel so late. He will make a fine father. Even if he is a bit over protective.
I slow as I come nearer to the burning mass that was once my grandparents beautiful manor, and see the cause of the destruction. Dozens of loyalist soldiers in their red uniforms are torching my childhood home, and to my utter displeasure dozens more were coming down the path.
The they that I so readily wish to torture for the destruction of my family's manor is a group of infamous British soldiers known as the Green Dragoons. Their leader, Colonel Tavington, also known as "The Butcher" by the colonists because of his brutal tactics. I have heard about them before, and what I do know about them will only make my revenge for my family all the more painful for them.
Less than a month ago our neighbors second oldest son, Thomas Martin, was shot down by Colonel Tavington. It wouldn't have been as bad if he was a Patriot soldier, (which he was going to be anyway but that's not the point,) the point is that Thomas was my age only sixteen. He was even in some of my classes when I was younger, and had been my first crush. You can never forget your first crush, no matter how hard you try. I know, I've tried.
Suddenly a strong arm encircles my waist and a hand is clamped over my mouth as a decidedly male body rolls with mine back under the cover of the tall thick grass before any of the Englishmen can see us. I struggle, kicking and thrashing about, as the man pins me down on my belly, face in the dirt and tries to keep me still.
"Aly. Aly, be still. Do you want them to see us?" the man whispers frantically into my ear. Wait a minute, I think to myself as I still, There's only one person that calls me by that name! Flipping over onto my back so that I am now nose to nose with my captive, I look into the very familiar brown puppy dog like eyes of my best friend, Rowan Conners.
"Rowan!" I whisper, relieved that it is a friend that has me pinned down like this and not one of those god awful British soldiers, even if it is a bit compromising. "What are you doing here? We have to get Ricky!" My whispered voice turns horse, the fear for my young uncle clamps onto my heart.
Ricky is more like a cousin or even a brother to me that anything else. It's kind of weird calling someone close to your same age your uncle.
Rowan and I have been best of friends since practically before our birth. His father and my father were best of mates when they were younger as were our mothers. Ricky, Rowan, and I use to get into all sorts of trouble together when we were younger.
Playing in the woods, lake, and fields. His family's plantation is right next to ours and both of our families keep our horses in the same barn that resides on an acre that the our two families share.
"Ricky's safe, much safer than we are at any rate. He's at the barn saddling up our horses." He tells me to my relief. Thank God, Ricky and Rowan are safe now what of the rest of our families?
"What of the others?" I ask him quietly after a long moment of silence between us, where a Red Coat came much too close to us in my opinion. He shuts his eyes for a moment before turning onto his side to give me a pained glance.
God, please no... I think as I hear the crying of some of my younger cousins. Rowan and I look up to see the colonel's captains shooting down my family members that had escaped the fire. There screams will haunt me no doubt, until I can revenge them.
"We're all that's left, Aly. The dirty bastards, got to my house just before they made it over to yours. I ran as fast as I could to warn you, I swear it, but they must have been split up before. They've killed everyone. I only barely managed to get Ricky, some muskets, and some ammo out of the cellar before they torched the place." he tells me.
I see the tears forming in his eyes before he turns away from me. Rowans parents were his only family, and now they were gone. Words could not even express my sympathy towards him. The three of us are truly alone now.
"We'll get those damned red coats if it's the last thing we do, Rowan. I promise you that. They should have known better than to mess with us." I focus my slightly evil looking gaze on The Butcher himself, Colonel Tavington. Rowan must have agreed with me because he gave me a positively demonic looking grin moments later.
Our families death at the hands of that British Colonel, and his Green Dragoons will be revenged ten fold at our hands. For you see, my mother had a secret that not even father knew.
She told me it before she died and gave me all of her hidden treasures that would help me become as good at her craft as she once was, perhaps even better. That was eight years ago and I have only ever told one other person, Rowan, about the secret that my mother and I share.
Leaning closer to my ear as we slowly inch our ways backwards away from the inferno that was once my home he asks me, "What do you propose we do about this, Alyson?" He smirks suggestively, eyes darken at the thought of the revenge. And possibly something much more sinister..
The three of us Rowan, Ricky, and I might be good kids and all, but piss us off and you've screwed yourself over. Giving Colonel Tavington one last icy glare before dashing off into the woods and down another well worn deer path that leads us to the horse barn, I can't help but think. Those red coats should have known better than to piss off a witch...
"How would a massacre sound to you?" I ask him sounding slightly possessed as we run. I've always been pretty possessive of my family, I loved them more than air. But now that their gone those soldiers are going to have a real taste of blood. Lifes about to become a bit more interesting...
