Chapter 6: You Fool

After a quick but ever thoughtful decision of his own, Benjamin Martin decided to go after his son and join him in the war. It was a decision he feared, much like every other man, but with his family threatened and now homeless because of the tyrannical King's men he had no other choice.

During his packing in the middle of his loud thoughts, he heard a brisk knock. Dropping his muskets with a clang on his bed, he goes to his bedroom door and answers it not expecting to see a fidgeting Victoria, wearing the same cotton nightgown she was changed into last night. Quickly, Benjamin tied up the front strings of his undershirt caught off guard.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you," she says first looking away while he did so. He didn't do too well of a job. His dark chest hair is still visible.

"What's wrong?" He asks immediately, finishing the process quickly without tearing his eyes from hers.

"Benjamin, I wish to come. To serve."

He stares at her with a crinkled brow, leaning against the door frame, "What—What do you mean?"

Her tongue unnoticeably licks over her lips, pursing them inwards nervously, knowing how audacious she is being to ask this.

"I mean to follow with you and Gabriel, and offer my services to the Continental Army."

"No—you…" His thumb reaches to the bridge of his nose and rubs it. "You wish to serve? Am I hearing this right?"

"Yes. I wish to serve. I want to serve. With your allowance of course, and following you."

"But to be a Provision follower?" he grimaces. "Victoria, you're not that desperate. You're working, well, was working at my house. But I've turned you over to the children's Aunt Charlotte's plantation, still working for me and making sure my children—"

She sighs deeply and on purposely loud, "Freely. I work for you freely. You offered me a home where I had nothing, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Payment I know was not possible… if it was I refused it because that would have been wrong to accept…"

"Charlotte won't take no for an answer," Benjamin strikingly mentions. "She'll pay you more than enough-"

"-But I must get onto my feet and do something outside of caring for children and try gaining back my life. I will gain some monetary means back properly, not from good friends or friends of friends," Victoria interrupted. "Which leads me to my point. The army will pay me greatly. A widow of a late war veteran alongside our fighting soldiers. They need help, Ben."

"I understand, Victoria, I do," Benjamin tries his hardest to maintain a calm and steady voice as he would to his children asking for things he can't give them. "But following an army is not a good something even if it pays. You're not that kind of lady—"

"—Not that kind of lady? Where is your mind? And I never said I'd follow the army. I said I offer my services. I'd follow you. I wish to also serve, in place of my husband where he couldn't finish… in disguise as a man. And earn the substantial payment I never received. I will fight is what I am trying to say. You can allow it—"

"You can't!" He catches her off guard now but with his raised voice, looking at her like she's lost her mind with his dark eye brows risen to his hairline, "You can't! I can't! You're a woman, they don't allow women to fight. That's wrong—you can't pretend to be a man to get a man's pay. Tillie, where is your mind thinking?"

"It is thinking quite fine after two whole years now. I'm aware of that, but they allow children? Boys? Thirteen-year old's are out there, Benjamin. They're all our countrymen despite, and I'll be proud to be amongst them. What else can I do? What else do I got to live for?"

"I'm sure you would be proud... What's that to be proud of?!" He started to sound calm before exclaiming at the top of his voice once more. His heart grew more and more disheartened the further she spoke. "What else can you do? You have high potential to remarry. That black you used to wear…"

Benjamin paused for a second to place his hand on her cheek to ensure his words are to be taken as kind and convincing as they should be. "That didn't faze any man's sights. It sure as hell didn't faze mine. You're young, you're beautiful, you're a kind and proud little Patriot supporter, and you can't be killed by a bullet or disease! You—you need to stay with my children and look after them. I need you to do just that. I won't let it happen. I won't see it happen."

"I know you wouldn't," she looks at him considerately with watery eyes, warmed by his words even if they are upset. "And Charlotte is looking after them with her many servants. I will also not be killed by a bullet or disease and if I am, so help me, I will not mind. It's better than being killed for almost slapping an officer. I defended your son, too."

He splutters, his knuckles turning white around the doorknob he still clutches. "Bet—Better than? Not mind? Are you that out of touch with yourself? Don't make war sound like an exciting and thrilling game."

"I am not out of touch with myself," she mutters with a frown. "I just know what I want. How dare you think I say that it's a game. It isn't."

"People die out there, Victoria. They die, and they aren't remembered, no matter how dedicated or decorated," Benjamin's hollowed voice makes the wooden floorboards creak. Or it is that someone is standing at the top of the staircase, but no one made to glance. "The battle is remembered but they aren't. Are you willing to be lost to everyone? To become nothing more than a number in a book? If you are accounted for. Because that's what's going to happen—"

"It won't happen! You just said it wouldn't!" Victoria recomposes herself after losing her temper snapping back. "I will be trained better, Benjamin. And you will be there like you always have been. I knew how to shoot when Gabriel and Thom—" she trailed off just when he wanted to interrupt.

"—Look, you're better off waiting patiently for Congress to reimburse you. You'll get recognized and you'll get your money one day. You can't take all those risks in your position."

"My position for two whole years?! I'm past waiting!" she growls with tears stinging her eyes. Her foot stomped the ground in frustration. "How about that position, yeah? I will never be recognized as his wife nor will I be able to remarry! Don't you see? I have nothing to my name."

"Why won't you be able to remarry? What makes you believe so?" Benjamin reproached. One of his burly hands go to rest above hers on the door frame making her regain her thoughts. He wanted to marry her. He wanted to love her. He was willing to.

"Because I won't find love again. That's my mistake, perhaps… marrying too soon. Marrying for love… not being a good daughter… trying to see other men as my husband but they aren't him. As of now, signs are pointing in the direction for me to remain silent, use what's left of my name in this town, and marry for money and status like every other woman. The position I believe you said, the one that I am stuck in naturally."

"Tillie… Come on now. Not all do. They don't have that luxury some of them," Benjamin shook his head, inhaling loudly. His temper had long since diminished, but his sorrow will forever remain and continue increasing. He's already got Gabriel out there, again, now he himself, and now potentially Victoria? There is no end. Even if she was just there tending to the wounded fresh off the battlefield, he couldn't let her or watch her be exposed to that gruesomeness again. "I won't allow you to do that to yourself. You left that life behind you, you don't want to not marry for love. Don't regret your decisions."

"I don't want to marry that way either. But then I don't want to remain helpless when I can do something about it until I am able to return to my old life with something to my name. That old life being my quiet, sensibly lavish life. Happy. With a close loved one."

"Well that there should tell you something. You're a closed loved one to me and my family. Just stay with my children. You should be more patient."

"But where did that get you?" She accidentally bit back too hard. His face fell, and his hand withdrawn to his arms crossed in front of him as he looked down with a long inhale and exhale.

"Benjamin, I didn't mean that-"

"-I will talk to Harry.. Colonel Burwell. He'll be able to give you something, work up something…"

"Benjamin, please forgive me first for saying that. I already never will forgive myself, I need to control my tongue better."

He looks at her with blue eyes of ardent fondness, "Of course I do. I always forgive you."

She nods her head at this, but he shook his head fearfully seeing her clear her throat about to explain herself again. "Alright. Now, I understand we are all suffering and sacrificing—And you may or may not let me join or follow you-" she quickly added before he could inch close to her face to tell her no.

"But I feel I'm not sacrificing enough. I still want to fight. Hear me out one more time."

"Tillie.." He never said for her to stop, nor did he sound angry. He was listening as any good person would. As any good man would.

"I also want revenge as much as you do… But revenge for my aunt and uncle is my own. I witnessed yesterday what I went through three years ago all over again. This can't keep happening. And Tavington? Benjamin, he will be after me. How about that?"

Benjamin inhales sharply once more, not at all considering this. She actually has a true valid reason to join! Damn it all.

"I have nothing to hold me back from doing what I am being called to do what I need to do. Not to mention, I can heal a great amount of wounds that many would die from if not treated properly. And mending clothes… Being the Martha Washington of sorts for our army. I must keep it all clean and give them high morale."

"What?" He chuckles now, this time truly amused. His serious thoughts swept to the side. For once he appeared convinced. "Someone's been looking at the paper and furthering her reading and writing. But 'our' army?"

"Not what you think it means," she giggles, trying to keep him in a good mood. Her rosy complexion falling back to its healthy olive hue and her eyes of fire-forged metal stare into his with resolve. "I mean to say I already accept it that I am a part of it, and its already my family like America is. Fighting for the true independence we all desire. I get my money, your family is safe, I am safe with you and from keeping them all from harm, and I get to be me by the end of it. A free version of myself I cannot fathom right now."

Benjamin could not deny her words or ignore them. Not just the reasons he painfully accepts, or her bravely volunteering to do the unthinkable amongst all these women down south, but that Tavington coming after her and arresting her once more? Shooting her if she moved a muscle? This he will gladly oblige to do, to keep Victoria within his sights and hidden amongst a future militia he will probably be given orders to create. That Colonel cannot ever hope to find her with them and the ghost.

In the end, it was those eyes of hers and her words—they won him over every time. Words like that are of a true luminary of a person. Benjamin knew deep down if he didn't allow her to join with him, he would regret it as he had many things he regretted in the past. Most of those regrets were of turning away many people in many ways, save for his late beloved wife.

He's not all for her fighting, but being a healer and travelling with them can be worked with… And an extra shooter is always needed. She could always hunt.

"We'll work something out, then. I'll come speak to you in a moment, privately. Let me just let it all sink in. For now, you go get Charlotte to find you some extra men's clothes that can fit you."

She nodded her head, mumbling just as quietly so that only he could hear, "Thank you, Ben."

"Don't thank me yet."

The breezy morning air hitting Victoria's face while exiting Ms. Charlotte's home gave her a sense of peace. For a moment she blinked and stopped on the middle of the porch to enjoy the view of the Santee river afar and off to the side, and the gigantic mature oak trees all around and straight ahead, lining the path she will be taking with Benjamin.

Then the nerves took hold. She looked far down the path that is right before her eyes and very feet. Victoria had never experienced such a significant moment as this. There is still time to back out and not travel down this path leading to her future travelling and serving for who knows how long, but her decision in her very soul and mind was made. It must be done, and she must see it through no matter what happens.

"Tillie too?" Victoria hears the small, fretting voice of William echo towards her.

She finally collects her breath, tightens her grip on her only bag of extra clothes and necessities she will want with her (which is not much thanks to the fire burning all her possessions..) and walks down the steps towards the Martin family and Ms. Charlotte on the front lawn, all gathered to say their farewells.

"Truly, you too, Victoria?" Little William asks once more, walking up to her and looking up at her different looking self.

"Yes, me too," Victoria smiles sadly down at him and the others. Her anxious and eager smile had immediately gone away the moment they all looked at her with confusion and fear. The confusion from seeing a woman in men's clothes and boots, which was not so common of a sight to them.

Benjamin walked over to take her bag from her to place on her horse.

"Why? You don't have to go. You can't go," Samuel speaks up next, suddenly growing defensive and scared. "What about telling us what to do?"

Victoria's hopeful smile grows painful, a tear even threatens to leave one of her eyes. "Your Aunt Charlotte can do that just as well as I, maybe even better. You actually got dressed this morning, Nathan."

"We'll miss you, Tillie. Please come home safe as soon as you can."

"And alive," Nathan grimly added.

"I promise," Victoria humorously glares at the boy know what he was thinking. His eyes shone with knowing at what she was remembering from their last dinner conversation all together. "And not a day will go by where I don't miss you."

"Miss," one of the slaves walks up to her kindly and holds his hand out to her. "Your other bag is already tied up. I shall help you onto your horse."

"Thank you, sir," Victoria nods her head to him thankfully, and proceeds to get onto her horse as the children say their last goodbyes to their father.

"When will you both be back, father?" Margaret asks him now.

"I don't know."

"Tomorrow?" William tries.

"No," His father shakes his head honestly. "Not tomorrow. You say your prayers, now."

"I will."

Benjamin turns to his remaining oldest son, "Nathan I want you to take care of your brother's and sister's and your Aunt Charlotte. I'm depending on you. As I am on you, Samuel. All right?"

"All right," Samuel nods his head promisingly but fearful. He looks like he had no sleep after yesterday's events no matter how hard their father and Aunt Charlotte soothed their worries and troubles.

Then the remaining young Martin, Susan, stares up at her father with large blue eyes as his hands go under her arms to lift her up to his face.

"Susan…" He murmurs dotingly. "Goodbye?"

Victoria swallows and holds back a sad sigh. Even she had high hopes of Susan speaking aloud to them both before they left! Surely little Susan knows that there is no certainty when they will return to them? These thoughts are shared with Benjamin and Charlotte, worrying about what the youngest child is thinking.

Benjamin settles with kissing Susan on her forehead before putting her back on her feet and turning to Charlotte next.

"Thank you…"

Victoria looks away from this last wholesome but awkward farewell. Benjamin seemed unsure how to leave Charlotte, but as ever understanding as the older woman is, she knew all he said by the look in his eyes. All she wanted to hear, too, was when he would return to her and his children.

In a matter of seconds, Benjamin stepped onto a spur, threw his left leg over the horse, grabbed the reins and beckoned Victoria to come along. They were soon both racing down the path leaving the home and their loved ones behind. The children and their aunt remained still and watched in uneasy silence until they disappeared in the distance. Some of them were hopeful that they would just maybe turn around.

Camden, South Carolina

Gabriel stayed frozen in his spot by the window for hours it felt like, to both himself and Victoria, who was standing in the same room as him and his father watching the battle from afar.

Thankfully Victoria had Benjamin to lead and guide as they rode through many woodsy areas where no person was around. It had never occurred to her how far they had traveled just yesterday from the Martin home to Ms. Charlotte's relocation when she was laying down in the back of a wagon, wounded and bleeding from being shot. Also, she had completely forgotten how arduous travelling is. Her wealthy days sitting in a plush cushioned coach are what she desperately wanted right now. Saddle riding with a leg on either side for copious amounts of time will take getting used to.

Luckily, she is carefully adjusting to this new comfort with ease before more trials and tribulations arise causing her to require this patience. And they had spotted Gabriel's horse left outside this abandoned mansion they are currently standing in. Victoria had let out the most relieved sigh in the world when she got off the chestnut colored horse, which also let out a breath when she was getting off as well.

As the battle continued, louder and more dreadful by the second, Gabriel finally turns around to only stare at them both in shock. "I'm not going back."

"Nah I didn't expect you would," his father commented quietly with all understanding. Benjamin stood from his perch at the table, and while handling his musket he went to stand beside his son, watching the rumbling battle still.

"That Gates is a damn fool," Benjamin uttered with loathe. "Spent too many years in the British Army, going muzzle to muzzle with Redcoats in open field, it's madness."

Right when Victoria made it to the two men, feeling she is not disturbing their uniting conversation after a fight the night before, she watched the British on the right make ready to shoot the Continental Army, now. Guns and cannons went off at once after a simple cry of 'fire!' and already the Patriots had a huge dent in their numbers.

She shuddered and looked away from the deadly view below of their countrymen falling to their death. Thoughts of her husband threatened to return to the front of her mind, but she refused to allow it.

"This battle was over before it began," Benjamin mumbled his last bit of thoughts before turning away as well, and putting his free hand on Victoria's shoulder not in order to comfort her (though he probably was) but to gain his son's attention.

Gabriel turned to her finally, ignoring the yells of men retreating outside. "Victoria, I apologize I never got to tell you farewell. Though it is a pleasure seeing you most likely one last time, I didn't expect you to come in person." He looked her over with an amused smirk after bowing his head politely. "You look beautiful, as always, but Aunt Charlotte had no extra dresses for once?"

"She'll be in disguise during travelling," was all Benjamin had to voice for Gabriel to understand. His son diverted his eyes to her light satchel over her dainty wide shoulders and now understood her hat as well. The look in his father's eyes shown he was not lying.

"What?" Gabriel swallows incredulously. "You can't be serious, father!"

Victoria's eyebrows shoot up in expectation of his response. Now he was not being the gentleman he just was.

"Colonel Tavington will be after her, Gabriel," Benjamin expresses his complete worry now. "I will not allow her to endanger our family, unintentionally. She will also be paid. She needs the work."

"What's the point of that if she'll just be endangering us? She will distract—"

"I will ensure, personally, that won't happen," Benjamin interrupts in defense making Victoria crack a smile and blush pink. His own eyes even sparkled at making her smile. It felt like there was no hardship occurring for once.

"She can be easily found out about by others. The Butcher should we ever cross paths with his dragoon, she will be spotted. By any marksman! She can't act like a man," Gabriel's teeth bare in frustration.

"Sure she can," Benjamin's tone shifts to one of positivity. "But yes, she will be known by just our men, if we get any who don't mind fighting a hard, losing battle. Our one and only provision follower and healer. I wouldn't want any other or believe in another for the survival of our service."

Victoria turned to Benjamin thoughtfully, and forever thankful, "Thank you."

Gabriel marched past them and left the room with enraging tension spilling from him in waves.

Benjamin removes his hand from her shoulder it was still on, she even felt the heat leave that spot.

He offered her a nod and waved her along, "We better follow him before he ditches us."

"I think he knows better to not," Victoria honestly says following behind him and down the stairs of the finest house she has been in since her Philadelphia days. Deep down, she knew this will be her last chance of true shelter in a home.

The rough soldier life Gabriel has always written to them about awaits her.

Overcast and damp, a sign of impending doom to Benjamin Martin, the three of them rode into the Continental Camp by afternoon where Colonel Burwell is located.

The sight of many wounded, and mostly bleeding soldiers crossed every line of sight. Victoria took special note of what the doctors, or acting doctors, were doing to treat them. Amputation saws were the most common, at least now. Others were lying there sleeping, or some being bandaged.

As for the soldiers who weren't wounded, they were walking around conversing regularly, or downcast, or weary from lack of sleep. Victoria had never felt so helpless or clueless. It was warned to her many times on what to expect, but seeing it with her own eyes, it was a nightmare.

Benjamin was the first to jump off his horse the instant he got there and asked to see the Commanding officer.

Spotting some working women adorning their proper clothing and even wearing caps (a style she could not like for herself), she did not get the chance to notice what they were doing, but it was exceedingly helpful nonetheless. She kept her head down as she walked behind Gabriel who had gained one soldier's attention sitting nearby picking up a discarded, muddy, torn American flag off the ground.

"It's a lost cause," the solider had said, with a fresh blooded bandage wrapped around his head so close to one of his eyes. It was a miracle he wasn't shot in the eye.

Victoria cringes on the inside as she chances at outright staring at the man since she is supposedly a 'man' herself right now. She must learn to toss all lady etiquette aside, at least in this camp.

"Maybe we have your first duty here," Gabriel whispers a mild quip to her when they walked away, pulling at his satchel with the said American flag sticking out of it.

Victoria made no comment as she focused on following Benjamin's exact steps to the tent he is currently standing in.

"So who's in command?" She had heard Benjamin ask prior to walking into the tent, ducking her head with Gabriel following suit. She felt strange pretending to be a man using men's manners and not the lady etiquette that flows in her from head to toes. It was also very definite to remove her hat out of respect, but it was all for hiding herself, so she did not. According to outside the tent, many of the men didn't care. Many wore hats, many just had their hair tied in queues or down loose and long to their shoulders. She blended right in.

"I am. I think," an overtired Colonel Burwell with hair in disarray mumbled leaning against one of the tent poles. He looked like he just finished fussing at someone before Benjamin walked in on him.

"What are my orders?" Benjamin asks.

"We're a breath away from losing this war, Benjamin. In the north, Washington is reeling from Morristown. He's running and hiding from 12,000 Redcoats. In the south, Cornwallis has broken our back. Captured over 5000 of our troops when he took Charles Town."

"And he destroyed the only army between him and New York," Benjamin added, cutting in. "So, nothing can stop him from heading north to finish off Washington."

Colonel Burwell motions to the map, "Unless we can keep Cornwallis in the south till the French arrive. They've promised a fleet and 10,000 troops."

"When?"

The Colonel seemed to have dampened more in spirit, adjusting his bent over back as he leans over the table of maps and figurines marking troop placements. His drop in confident manner proven so, "Ah, six months at the earliest."

Benjamin stares at the man with an eloquent leer, "You actually trust the French to keep their word?"

A chair being pushed back to the far right of the two conversing men catches Benjamin's ear, and he turns to who is giving him an icy and defensive glare.

"Absolument."

The man dressed in a light blue uniform not much older Benjamin spoke with a French enunciation and stepped closer daringly. The frost in his blue eyes not melting, Victoria sees with nerves beginning to prick her arms and her neck. She had never met a foreigner before let alone be in the same room or same 'tent' as one.

But not just any foreigner. The evidently high-class Frenchman was a serious, stand-offish middle-aged man as well. He did look more vigorous and younger despite his withered face and thick, curled brown hair beginning to go grey, yet still full of its youthful texture and not slicked back into a leather tie like most his age. Very much unlike the older men Victoria is used to seeing in Charles Town.

Charles Town men were reserved and radical. The surrounding parts they were all frontiersmen or farmers like Benjamin, tough, but reserved even then. This Frenchman held authority, class, and dignity much like Colonel Burwell and Benjamin if not more.

Victoria glanced away, feeling rude she was staring at him like he was someone she had never seen before. Well, she hasn't. His hair, those misty blue eyes set above his big French nose, and gentle fatherly face were the attributes that struck her.

"Benjamin Martin, Major Jean Villeneuve of the French Seventh Light Foot. He's here to help train the militia," the Colonel introduces while Benjamin looks down at his feet awkwardly, meeting the Frenchman's eyes occasionally to not be ruder than he himself had.

Answering her thoughts, Victoria nods her head carefully. No wonder the Frenchman looked authoritative because he is a Major of a 'French' regiment.

"The hero of Fort Wilderness your reputation precedes you," Major Jean Villeneuve spoke in waveringly quick words. The hint of insult in his tone and spite in his eyes, still.

Benjamin shakes his head dismissing the greeting, turning back to Burwell, "You really expect to hold Cornwallis here using just militia?"

"Not me. You."

"Harry, they're not soldiers, they're farmers. They'd be better off letting the British march through," Benjamin tells the Colonel with a smile of disbelief at the man's words.

"They'd be better off, but the cause wouldn't," Colonel Burwell wags a finger as he steps aside and grabs an important document he begins to fill out.

"How many men does Cornwallis have?" Benjamin asks now.

"8000 infantry, and around 600 cavalry," Burwell provides. Victoria fidgeted at Gabriel's side who smirked. He figured she put the numbers together that there are a lot of British. He couldn't blame her, though, when he was first told how many men he would be staring across a battlefield at two years ago, he didn't believe it. His letters were detailed for this very reason. He couldn't shake any fear he still gets to this day over how many British keep coming through the fog. Except that one time he crossed the Delaware on one of the many whaling boats.

"I'm giving you a field commission as a Colonel," Colonel Burwell continues to tell him as he writes.

Benjamin takes his chance to ask, "Might I request that you transfer my son here under my command?"

Gabriel stutters, looking from Victoria beside him to the Colonel. He even started towards the man holding up the dispatches he's been carrying around forever, "Sir, no I— I—"

Colonel Burwell cuts him off with a final look and raise of eyebrows for emphasis, waving the paper, "Done."

"Thank you—" was all Benjamin was going to tell the man before he continued. But the Colonel beat him to it. He looked behind Gabriel at the lad. This lad was not adorning blue like the others in his regiment.

Then when he was about to question not seeing him before, he sees the 'boy's' huge, shining eyes and familiar heart-shaped face with a huge hat looming over it. "Victoria?"

Victoria froze in her place suddenly and felt all eyes on her.

Colonel Burwell studied her face long and hard before frowning considerably, and even saying her name again. "Victoria, what are you doing here—wearing?"

"My choice of clothing should be the least of your concern, sir. I was hoping you'd greet me kindly and ask about my wellbeing," she responds quickly as well, hoping the nervousness in her voice isn't showing. "It is well to see you again, Colonel Burwell, but for me, I'm rather not well of late. As you can see."

"She has resorted to living on her horse and following the call to war like other women," Benjamin tells the man, cutting her off and him before anything else could be said. "You know Congress is more than six months late with their issues and they will never recognize her. We know it isn't your fault."

The French Major disregards the replication of the French fleet's arrival with an irritated, unhidden eye roll before he looks to the disguised woman once more. He was startled when he heard Colonel Burwell speak a woman's name upon recognizing her, but now the Major resumes looking still and collected, trying to hide his discomfort in front of the infamous Benjamin Martin.

It was no trouble of her being present here if he was ever asked his opinions, but it was odd seeing a woman adorn men's clothing and speaking forwardly.

Major Villeneuve looks her up and down well manneredly with his French cockade held to his chest. Victoria had met his gaze now and held it politely, thinking he was about to tell her something. And after all, she was caught sneaking a glance his way to judge his reaction of her being here. As for him visibly moving his head up and down, taking her in, not many men can do so with an elusive face and vicarious eyes. He did not seem troubled.

"I would hope so. But that doesn't explain why she's here dressed like a soldier—a man!" the Colonel stresses remaining behind his desk.

"But she holds herself up with the confidence many men are lacking, from what I have seen. The clothing is the least of my concern," Major Jean Villeneuve said, and Victoria found herself nodding her head to him courteously at his words. He immediately bowed his head in return though tautly, turning back to the two men. It may be no trouble, but now he feels tight. This scene in any way was unbecoming of a woman to be in such a discussion with three men… in the army and during a war too. France had none of it and certainly not the battalions during the French and Indian War.

The Colonel blinks twice at the French Major's words before turning back to Ben with a sigh, "What is this really, Ben? Women aren't allowed to fight. I can get in trouble for this."

"I know you can. And yes, they aren't allowed and they shouldn't. But technically, in a local militia some things can be put aside. This is a special case in my eyes," Benjamin put emphasis on this word drawing in the Colonel's attention entirely now. "She'll be listed as a man under my commission, begrudgingly. Besides, she will only fight should she have to defend herself or when I say if we need more soldiers. She is to ultimately be our healer. We will need that and you know it. Perhaps a potential emissary too to spare our men for the bulk work."

"A special case?" Colonel Burwell asks more to himself than Benjamin. The reservation in his face crumbling to exhaustion. "Healer, yes. No one will offer their hands to a militia in the wilderness unless you search far outside this state. Just maybe. But Emissary? That's pushing it."

The Colonel chuckles at first in consideration, repeating Ben's words in his mind, but then hesitation crosses his face. "Can she ride to military posts? Alone? Remember where they are located should she be steered from her chosen path?"

"Yes, she can, and she actually prefers riding alone. I am here, sir," Victoria says in a rushed breath making Gabriel break into a discreet smirk he couldn't keep off his face. Even if he disagrees with this he can't help but be amused.

The energy in her bones returns, remembering this was how she was with her parents. "And I'm not at all forgetful and I will not be side saddling in a trot for one moment."

The Colonel bows his head, drowsily though the alertness in his eyes at her here making him seem awake, "That's very much believable. And… God forbid, what will you do should you be on the field, Miss Victoria?"

"I will have her disguise herself…" Benjamin exclaims before she could, slowly. "Like she is now."

"May have to make some tweaks, apparently," she mutters under her breath, nodding her head towards the Colonel, missing Major Villeneuve's covered amusement as a quick cough. The Major remaining silent throughout. His word not needed unless he was asked of his thoughts which may not happen.

"Colonel, if you can't trust my word on this and why this is a special case, then…" Benjamin trailed off.

"Why did you even bother asking me? You could have easily kept her out my sights and snuck her into your militia without anyone knowing," the Colonel asked a well-formed question as he scratches the back of his neck. "Which is worrisome, Colonel."

"Because I trust you, Colonel, and someone has to know. By the end of her time serving, whenever that may be, she will be given a full soldier's salary." Benjamin's eyes glisten with promise. "Hence why she is enlisting as a man. You know she's a special case. I will not say this once more."

Gabriel, meanwhile, looks down at his feet in anger and frustration. If his own father sees that a woman, who is of no relation to them, be considered more special than he? His own son? There must be more to it than Tavington being after her…

"Very well, Martin," The Colonel quickly breathed out, interrupting him. "It's not my honor I'm risking. She has no say against it, apparently."

"Why would I? I offered my services, willingly," she responds smiling at the Colonel who shakes his head unamused. "Thank you, very much, sir." The French major hummed to himself approvingly? He bowed his head to her as he motioned for her to walk out the tent first.

Gabriel was not far behind as he tightly squeezed his mouth shut in anger and brushed past the French Major upon exiting the tent (mumbling a quick 'pardon me') to get to Victoria and hiss at her.

"You're a fool!"

"I am the fool?" She walks quickly with him so close to her side, he was about to shove her in another direction it seemed. Her hand flew to her tricorn in panic when a gust of wind blew past them and Gabriel's brushing against her side did not help. His smirking at her remarks were just a dream then.

"You'd rather not be in your father's militia if I can recall correctly?"

"Because he's my father—taking orders from him like at home! You could barely pass by the Colonel as a man, or boy. Lord knows who else you'll come across," he condemned, and was careful to not let his voice rise any louder. "You are not a man to handle this, and you can't even shoot straight."

Victoria had scoffed when he implicated she was a boy, but she spoke to him like he was his nanny, "Congratulations, your eyesight serves you well. And didn't I save your life yesterday? That will be all taken care of in due time, darling. And I have no worry over my honor, whatever is left of it."

"Don't be saying such things in the public eye, starting now," Gabriel shakes his head as he left her side abruptly, pausing in his walk to cut behind her to wait for his father. Victoria had kept walking past the pair of horses to her own next to someone else's that was brought near theirs after they had arrived.

She had no idea once more that the French Major was in her presence, following close behind silently to the horse that stands next to hers.

"If this is what the tenacious American woman is then I have finally been graced to meet one," the Major discreetly said with his rich accent for her to hear only. She halted abruptly, her breath catching quietly that he had almost slammed into her back foolishly, his hat fumbling in his hands nearly dropping it.

He then offered her another polite bow of his head, far from the tautness it was moments ago. He tried appearing kind this time in a camp filled with forlorn, grave, and unemotional faces. But some of his discomfort of her being dressed as a man was still evident in his judgmental gaze as he swallowed pitifully for her right in front of her.

"Major Jean Villeneuve, mademoiselle."

She pauses before she introduces herself, waiting for some soldiers to walk completely past them, and to decide on how to be addressed. She is widowed... but she was to keep her husbands name a part of hers until she remarried... as society says. "Victoria Gossett Lawson, monsieur. It's an honor to meet you."

"Non, the honors all mine, Mrs. Victoria."

"Forgive me, sir, but you do not seem to be against me being here, unless you are that well at hiding your true thoughts," she asks him rather boldly, to which he lifted an eyebrow in surprise, and he felt his throat tighten unsure how to respond.

"Perhaps I am well at hiding my true thoughts. But am I against you being here?" He considers to himself for a moment as he looked away to take a few more strides to his horse and pet him. "You are to be a healer which I am grateful for that someone has willingly offered to aid us. I have no doubt you will have talent in treating the wounded and ill. Being an emissary, however, I will have to see for myself how well you ride and your sense of direction."

Victoria's lips squeezed into a thin, close lip smile when he said this.

"For fighting, that I must say I am against," Jean turns to her now, and finishes with a polite sigh. "And I mean no insult towards you, my lady."

"No, no insult, sir. I understand that, thank you," she appreciatively says. "That will be my greatest burden on you all I'm afraid. However, with my outfit and fighting… capability aside, do you consider me as an equal on every level, or just on the issue for this war? You were clearly born into the French aristocracy, and after a quick first meeting, you seem to view me the same as you despite you disgruntled seconds ago."

He shifts taken aback in his stiff stance as he made ready his horse. A sharp inhale from Jean was even heard by her little ears. "That I was, you are observant, and quick with your words. I also meant no ill will towards you, Mrs. Lawson. Liberty is for all, madame."

She squeezes her lips shut, feeling a pang in her heart. He had at first called her mademoiselle, a single woman. Madame is a married woman. She didn't have the heart to correct him.

"Indeed it is."

He put his hat on his head, looking at the young woman entirely now, "This country and its rebels are fighting for that overall belief. It would be wrong of me in that sense and honorably, myself, to see you as naught."

She could only stare at him admiringly, and appreciatively, she hopes she was staring at him mostly for the latter. He had looked away from her after he spoke and looked like he was in his own thoughts now. So, she took this as her cue to prepare to leave, until she remembered that this Major is supposed to be training the militia.

"Colonel," Gabriel rushed up behind his father. "I've been a soldier for two years. As a scout, horseman, marksman, scavenger."

Victoria snaps her head in his direction so quick, the Frenchman started in alarm having seen her in his peripheral vision.

"Is that so?" Benjamin asks Victoria's same question. Gabriel had seemed to leave many things out of his letters to home.

"I'd be of better use with Regulars."

Victoria heaved a sigh at that unnecessary comment while she got onto her horse, biting back a quick remark saying he should then. Sure enough, Gabriel caught her eyes and nodded in apology.

"Where'd you learn all that riding, shooting, scavenging?" Benjamin asked him without hiding his curiosity. He had mounted his horse as well with his son.

"My father taught me."

"Teach you any humility?"

"He tried. It didn't take."

"Your father also taught you every trail between here and Charleston," Victoria cut in. "Which is one of the reasons why he transferred you, may I remind you."

Gabriel looked at her with such distaste, as a younger brother would an older sister who got her way, but his father silenced him before he could speak.

"Yes, I did. We'll be putting our minds to this for quite some time," Benjamin concurs. "So to start, we'll put the word out. Start on the south side of-"

Gabriel interrupts his father, "We'll cover more ground if we split up."

"Very well, Corporal. You take—"

"—She stays with you," he interrupted once more making Victoria huff, this time exasperated.

"You take Harrisville, Pembroke, Wakefield. I'll start on the north side. Meet at the Old Spanish Mission in Black Swamp."

"Why there?" She inquires to Benjamin. She has heard her late uncle mention it only once when he was recalling his 'younger' days in war. He wasn't that young back when, but he sure did paint himself as a quick-moving killer.

Now Ben explains to her as if its palpable why they are going there.

"It's black. And it's swamp. Uncharted areas by the British. We will never be found."

"Found by mosquitoes. I'd better get some more herbs and oils then," she remarks annoyingly at the thought of men coming to her with infinite bites if they aren't wounded. To help scratch them? Rub them? No. That will not happen.

"True," Jean Villeneuve recognizes her claim. "The hospital tent is on the way out. They will supply you with what you need depending on how much they need for here and have left."

"I suppose I'll be riding with you both, then?" She asks as she clears her throat, now a bit uncomfortable with her current thoughts of men taking advantage of her help. But she is also uncomfortable with the idea of travelling alone and finding this swamp on her own. Surely, Benjamin wouldn't do that to her though, many men would now that its wartime. Victoria is a stray so to say. She wasn't married, courting, or taken by any means. She may as well be easily left to her own.

She is familiar with her surroundings, at the very least, but not at all familiar with a swamp and where it is located. When she got no answer, seeing the father staring after his oldest son beginning to trot off and the Frenchman next to him trying to get the man's attention but to no avail, she straightened in her saddle and turned her horse to leave towards the infirmary tent. She was feeling compelled to leave for that because Gabriel left in a rush of purpose. This means they will be leaving quite soon as well. Major things need to get done.

Like first, recruiting men for the Charleston militia.

"Corporal. Be careful," Benjamin called after his son who responded as any good obeying child would.

"Yes, sir."

The two men watched in silence at the young man riding off until Benjamin broke it.

"You have children?" Benjamin asked the Frenchman beside him.

Major Villeneuve masked his thoughts and privacy incredibly well. He recognized the casual tone of someone just making conversation, so the Frenchman held his words of more importance to himself as he had turned his horse so quick and took off after the disguised woman who left seconds before him. It was almost rude. And that's how Benjamin took it as.

"French," he muttered under his breath before following him in a straight shot down the center path of the camp lined with white tents. The infirmary tent easy to be seen because of the amount of other wounded, though not bloody like the one they just left near Colonel Burwell's tent.

Upon arriving at the infirmary tent, Ben can make out the form of Victoria taking a couple sacks and two heavy boxes full to the brim under their lids.

"You got all that?" Benjamin asks as he rides up last, stopping his horse for the last time until they head out and ride until they meet their destination. He catches the Frenchman still on his horse a few feet away with his head turned from them. He was not helping Victoria at all!

Ben thinks either the man is that aristocratic, loathing the fact that a disguised woman is joining the militia not just to heal, or he assumed the men in the healing tents would help 'the lad.' The Fort Wilderness hero hoped it was not all three which is what it appears to be.

Pausing her strapping, Victoria watches Benjamin jump off his horse to help, she responds, "We will need it, I assure you. You'll thank me later."

"What about bindings for your—for the wounded should we have some," Benjamin immediately caught himself before letting her secret slip in front of the people around the infirmary.

"It's all in stock. That will be handled at our destination, sir. Though I may need to borrow your horse to put the last few things on."

"Few, that's not more than four, right? Few is three or less…"

"I can count." She looks to him sarcastically. Even under her hat he can see traces of her amusement. "Yes, it's only two. It'll be enough for now."

..

A/N: Thank you to my three followers for enjoying this story and reviewing so kindly! And thank you to all the silent 'ghost' readers out there! ;)

I finally overcame a period of writer's block for this part in the movie/story, I hope y'all enjoyed it once more. Now that this chapter is done and up, I have the next chapter so close to finish I hope to post it tomorrow! YAY! The enlistment at the tavern is where Benjamin, Jean, and Victoria will recruit the Black Swamp militia, and Victoria will meet new faces, and make some unlikely friends. Perhaps even one of these regular faces will be her future love? We will know one day.

Victoria Gossett's story, and new life, is just beginning. Please review and stay tuned! :)