Even with the help of his spies, England had difficulty keeping up with the rebels. Every time England received a report of the rebels being found somewhere, they would disappear by the time England's redcoats got there.
Just when his patience was starting to run out, he received word that one of the rebels had been caught at the Virginia border. He had papers on him that indicated the rebels were headed to Virginia next. England immediately packed up and headed for the Virginia colony on the fastest horse he could find.
He arrived in Virginia in early January. Much to his disappointment, however, he had missed the rebels once again.
Instead, he found what was left of a company of British regulars in Richmond. They had just had a skirmish with the rebels a couple of days ago.
The rebels were becoming much more brazen in their attacks, England quickly found out. When he talked to the men, he learned that the rebels had deliberately aimed for the officers, then fled before the British could make a counterattack. In the one volley they had managed to fire, only three rebels were killed, but there had been more than a dozen British casualties.
"Our commander was questioning a young man on the road when the bastards showed up," one of the soldiers told England. "The fellow was armed, riding on horseback. Rode around and joined the rebels as soon as the fighting broke out."
"Really?" England said thoughtfully. "It sounds like he may be a rebel spy. Do you remember what he looked like?"
The soldier furrowed his brow as he tried to recall the man's face.
"I was too far away to get a good look," he said apologetically. "But he was wearing a brown overcoat, and he had a rifle. He had long, blond hair, kept most of it tied back."
England's face fell. That's too vague, he thought.
"Anything else you remember about him?" he asked.
"I'm sorry, sir," the soldier replied. "But I never got close enough to see much else other than that."
England nodded and left the soldier alone. He tried talking to some of the other men, but got the same answers as before.
The only person that would have been able to give me a detailed description of the rebel spy was killed in the fighting, England realized with annoyance. Well, at least as long as my own spies keep tracking their movements, I'll catch him and the rest eventually.
With that in mind, England then went on his way, continuing to correspond with spies as well as local colonists, trying to find where the rebels had gone.
Several days later, England's search took him northward again. As he neared the Virginia border, he stopped in a small town. He went to an inn to rest for the night, but when he got to his room, he had difficulty falling asleep. At almost midnight, he gave up, got out of bed, and began pacing irritably back and forth.
Where the bloody hell is Canada? He thought. If I could just find him and talk some sense into him… we need to stop this rebellion before it tears his colonies apart…
England stopped in front of the window, staring blankly out at the street for a while.
I wonder if he's been hiding with those rebels. It would explain why I can't find him anywhere.
England slammed a fist on the window sill. If that was where Canada was hiding, that only made it even more imperative that those rebels be captured, and quickly.
They should still be in the area, at least, England told himself. Tomorrow, I need to join my men and find them.
With that, England returned to bed, although he didn't get much sleep for the rest of the night.
The next morning, however, England held himself to his word and led his men on a search for the rebels.
(-)
Canada followed Hamilton and his company of militia to an encampment several miles away from Richmond. They only stayed there for a few days to rest and tend to their wounds, and then Hamilton gave orders to break camp and move.
They began heading north, and Canada rode alongside Hamilton as the men marched.
"Most of these men are veterans from the last war," Hamilton explained to Canada. "Your French Canadian friends are still in the northern colonies, with the stolen weapons. As soon as we can get enough forces assembled, we can start organizing and supplying a real army."
Canada raised an eyebrow. "My… friends…?" he asked. How does he know I was the one in charge?
"The captain told me his orders were from a man named Matthew Williams," Hamilton replied. "I recognized the name. Matthew Williams is Alfred's brother's name. Your name."
"Oh…"
There was a pause.
"Are you still in contact with the Canadian rebels?" Canada asked.
Hamilton nodded. "Communication is slow and difficult, especially now that the British have got their eyes and ears everywhere," he said. "Damn near impossible now to send a simple request without our couriers being arrested."
"What are the Canadian rebels doing?"
"For the most part, making sure our guns, powder, and shot are kept out of the hands of the British," Hamilton replied. "Though I think they're trying to recruit more men as well. Shouldn't be too difficult… up where they are in the northern colonies. It's the southern colonies that will be the problem…"
"What do you mean?"
Hamilton swore under his breath, then suddenly called a halt. Canada looked frantically around, trying to see what had made Hamilton stop.
British regulars, accompanied by what appeared to be a company of local militia, were headed straight for Hamilton's men.
"That's the problem," Hamilton said with disgust. He began shouting orders to the men, and the men prepared for another fight.
Canada grabbed his rifle and aimed. Remembering Hamilton's advice to aim for the officers, he immediately scanned the field, looking for whoever looked to be of higher rank on the enemy side. As soon as he found an officer, he took careful aim, and fired.
The enemy militia were armed with rifles, and stayed back while the redcoats prepared a bayonet charge. Canada quickly realized that Hamilton's men were outmatched. Hamilton noticed this as well, and frantically began leading a retreat.
Canada put the rifle away. Before he could turn his horse around, however, someone shot Canada's horse out from under him. Both he and the horse fell to the ground, and Canada scrambled to get back on his feet, but by the time he got back on his feet, the redcoats were nearly upon him. In his panic, Canada abandoned his horse and gear, and fled.
In just a few minutes, the battle was over. Hamilton, Canada, and the rebel militia had all disappeared into the underbrush.
England walked around on the area where the rebels had been positioned just minutes earlier, cursing under his breath. These rebels were too fast. Just when he'd finally found them, they escaped again. They hadn't even captured any alive as prisoners, and the battle had been so short, there were almost no casualties on either side.
For the second time in a week, the rebels had merely held the British to a draw.
Well, a draw is better than a loss, England told himself. But I've still failed; Canada's probably escaped again…
"Hey!"
England turned sharply at the sound of a child's voice calling him. He saw a small boy headed in his direction, and he appeared to be carrying something.
Why is there a child here on the battlefield?!
The child drew closer, and England's eyes went wide in alarm. That something was a rifle. The child stopped several paces away from England and held the weapon up.
"One of the rebels left this," the boy said.
"Thank you…" England said hesitantly, taking the rifle from the boy. With the rifle in his hands, he looked it over, and he froze when he saw the name 'A.F. Jones' on the weapon's grip.
This is America's!
One of England's officers noticed the boy as well, and came running over.
"Young man, what are you doing here?! Shouldn't you be at home with your parents?" the officer called out incredulously.
The boy turned slowly to face the officer. He regarded the man with a cold expression that made England flinch internally at the sight.
Who is this boy? England wondered. There's something very odd about him… that is not normal child behavior…
"Where are your parents?" England asked the boy.
The boy turned to face England and briefly flashed a faint smile. Without a warning, he ran forward and hugged England around the leg.
What the hell?!
"Get off of him!" the officer said indignantly, stepping forward and grabbing the boy.
Both England and the officer were in for a shock. Instead of easily pulling the boy away from England, the officer found he had to pull much harder as the boy tightened his grip on England's leg. Annoyed, England then tried to help the officer, but that's when the boy did something even more shocking than anything he'd done so far. He let go of England's leg, but only to punch England's officer in the gut. The man was knocked off his feet and left panting for breath, as the blow had knocked the wind out of him.
England immediately put his arms around the boy, expecting to have to use his powerful nation strength to restrain him. To his surprise, the boy relaxed instead.
"What is your name?" England demanded.
The boy looked blank. "I don't know…" he said quietly.
"Why are you out here?" England asked. "Where is your home?"
The officer rose gingerly to his feet, glaring at England and the boy.
"What are you doing?" he asked England. "That brat is-"
"Shut up," England said dismissively. "Return to the men and take them back to Richmond. I'll be there later."
Nonplussed, the officer nevertheless did as he was told, leaving England and the boy on the field.
"Where is your home?" England repeated.
"The colonies…" the boy said.
England was about to ask where specifically, but bit his lip to stop himself.
He acts unusually mature for a child, is much too strong for a normal child, and doesn't know his own name, England thought. Something's not right here.
England glanced down at the rifle, which now lay in the dirt beside him. Dozens of questions raced through his mind, including questions that he had had years ago, but never had adequately answered; questions which had been almost completely forgotten.
Perhaps now was as good a time as any to dust off his old spellbooks and do the investigating which he should have done years ago.
Ending Notes: Yes, that is the same boy Canada ran into in the previous chapter, in case anyone was curious.
