DISCLAIMER: Anything from Patriot that you remember belongs to the Patriot,the rest is probably mine... Please read, review, and enjoy!

Artimis


When we reach the barn I am relived to see Ricky safe and sound, if not a little singed around the edges... nothing too painful or permanent though. Rowan, I can tell now fared about the same as Ricky, I just didn't notice his slightly smoked smell before. Too much smoke in my nostrils already I guess.

Ricky and I hugged as if we haven't seen each other in years, when in reality we saw each other at the breakfast table this morning. Too much can change in the course of a few hours. We've learned that now, even if it does seem a little bit unfair. And we'll be sure never to take that for granted again.

Ricky's just started adult hood at the difficult age of nineteen, Rowan a year older than I at seventeen, and I being only sixteen. Were tough though, we'll get through this, we have to. We have no other choice...

We were silent as we each pack our emergency bags, some rations, and our weapons onto our own respected hoses. Father has always keep some extra muskets and swords in the barn. Mounting the horses to leave all of these Green Dragoons behind us, we quickly gallop onto the back road. Keeping clear of the main routes and far from our enimies.

Rowan onto his chestnut colored stallion with the 'oh so creative name' of Chestnut, Ricky on his steely gray mare Silver, and I on my huge Black Stallion, Adonis, who was a gift for me from my elderly neighbor back in North Carolina on my thirteenth birthday.

Mr. Brayer was an older, rich man that had basically adopted me as his own granddaughter during my stay in the other state. He raised horses and was not in the condition to take care of Adonis after his mother had died foaling him. He gave the little black foal to me and he grew up to be the amazingly powerful creature that I am currently riding.

The three of us gallop hard in the direction of my Aunt Mariana's home. She is the only one that we have left now; her, her husband, and their unborn children. If we can only get there without getting caught. They know the way far better than I. Letting Ricky take the lead, and follow him with Rowan trailing behind me. They might not consciously be trying to protect me. They would deny it if I ever told them that they were, but Rowan Conners and Ricky Giovanni are, without a doubt, gentlemen. Even in the most troublesome times.

After 2 days of good weather and no further encounters with the British soldiers we finally make it to Aunt Mariana's Plantation in North Carolina. Uncle Antonio was the first to spot the three of us. He had been sitting on the front porch staring off into space while Aunt Mariana was sitting on a rocker and reading a pamphlet.

"What on earth... why are you doing here, Bella?" Antonio asks me. He's still trying to learn the finer points to the English language. But what do you expect? He has only been in the colonies for a little over a year. You see, Antonio's family is a very wealthy one in Italy, one of the wealthiest.

Unfortunately, this has given him his nickname for me, Bella. Bella is beautiful in Italian, and he clams that I look more Italian than American. It is true that my Giovanni ancestors started out from Italy, but lets face it. That was one-hundred years ago! I have more Indian in me than Italian, but then again Antonio is very handsome so he can call me whatever he wants. Even if he is my new uncle, he's only 24!

"The red coats, they... they set fire to the family manor, and to Rowan's." I manage to gasp out to them as Ricky, Rowan, and I stop to jump off of our sweating and tired horses. The long and dangerous trip offered us little time for rest.

Antonio, ever the gentleman, helps me off of Adonis even though it is not necessary, and everyone even aunt Mariana rolls their eyes at his antics. She knows that I can take care of myself and that I have very little need for assistance of any kind, I'm very independent.

If Antonio was anything other than family I would probably have scolded him, but he is so I'll just have to deal with it. Besides, he's sexy as hell!

"They got everyone, Mariana, we're the only ones left. They shot everyone that survived the fire and only missed the three of us. Rowan and Aly were hiding in the grass, and I had gone ahead to saddle the horses for our escape." Ricky informs them letting me get a few moments breath.

"Who would do such a thing? Which side was it?" Aunt Mariana asks us.

"Who do you think?"Rowan mutters bitterly, as so only Ricky and I can hear him.

"They were red coats, Mariana. The Green Dragoon's lead by the butcher himself." Ricky tells his now very confused and devastated sister. She breaks down into her husbands arms and starts to sob, sobs of grief.

My uncle just sends me a confused look as he leads his wife into their home. He beacons Rowan, Ricky, and I in after telling some of his servants to put our horses in their barn.

"I do not understand this, Bella." he tells me. Sending a worried glance to his wife that had passed out on their couch after an hours worth of sobbing. That's what you get for not getting enough air, and gasping when wearing a corset. One of the many reasons that I prefer to wear pants and tunics myself.

"Who is this... butcher? Where is his shop? I will make him suffer for causing me amor to cry so." he tells me. In other words, he is very pissed at Colonel Tavington for making his wife cry. I wonder if he'll be as brave when I tell him who the butcher really is?

"No, dear uncle, the butcher is not an actual butcher in the sense that he cuts up beef and other meats." I tell him as if he was a small child, "This 'butcher' is none other than Colonel William Tavington, butcher of continentals."

"That butcher?! Bella, why didn't you say anything?" Antonio exclaims as if I hadn't already. He's up from his seat by his sleeping wife in an instant, and quickly envelopes me in a bone swishing hug. Yay!

He starts to rock me back and forth like I'm a child or something and whispers for me 'not to cry.' I'm not crying, I wont give those bastard red coats the pleasure of making me cry! Never! Even as I tell myself this I can still feel the salty tears rolling unchecked. If I don't react to them their not there... right?

"Uncle, I'm fine. Really I am. I'm tougher than that, you should know that by now." I lightly scold him. I cant say that his hug didn't make me feel any better. I've always loved his hugs.