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Chapter 9: The Price of Freedom
The next day I woke up before dawn and felt as if a truck had driven over my head. Groaning I sat up and stretched, working any and all kinks from my body. Getting up, I washed my face in the basin and changed into a pair of dark blue jeans, green T-shirt and dark grey hoodie. I hurried down the stairs only to skid to a stop on the last step when I heard Benjamin yell at Gabriel, "Don't you walk away from me, boy!"
"I'm sorry father; I'll find you when this is all over."
"No, no, you're not going, I-I forbid you to go." Benjamin was practically chasing Gabriel down. I watched as Gabriel spun around.
"I'm not a child!"
"You're my child!"
"Goodbye, Father." Gabriel walked out onto the porch where his horse was waiting.
"Gabriel, Thomas is dead. How many more will have to die before you heed my word." Ouch. I winced even though that wasn't directed towards me. Gabriel jerked his head around and stared at his father. Ben was trying desperately to gain control of his emotions while he stared back. Gabriel turned around and walked outside, swinging onto his horse. With one quick look back, he guided the horse around and took off toward the road.
I walked over to Charlotte and Ben as they watched him go. "I'm losing my family." And he stomped away. Charlotte and I looked at each other, sadness filling us both, and then our eyes drifted after Gabriel. Charlotte placed a comforting hand on my shoulder afterwards following Benjamin. I took one last look after Gabriel, my lips drawing into a thin line. I had a decision to make, so I whirled around, rushing back to my room. I had some planning to do.
A half hour later my plan was formed and I was ready to start the ball rolling. Grabbing my repacked backpack, I threw it across my shoulders, flipped my cowboy hat over my hair and grabbed my rifle on the way out of my bedroom door. I thudded down the stairs unceremoniously, coming to rest in the atrium. I looked around for Ben, but didn't see him, or anyone for that matter. With one more quick glance around, I opened the door, only to be stopped by Ben's voice.
"Where do you think you're going?" Okay, here goes nothing.
I turned around slowly, meeting his frustrated gaze. He was dressed in full garb; vest, shirt, breeches, stockings, even that little ruffle thing around his neck. "I'm, ah, going outside," I answered.
"With your rifle and all of your belongings?" He walked towards me motioning toward the items.
I sighed. No use beating around the bush. "Ok, I'm going outside to wait for you to hurry up so we could go after Gabriel."
"We? Oh, no. You're not going anywhere."
"Yea-no, I am going." He grabbed my shoulders, shaking me slightly. I was stunned enough to drop my gun which clattered as it hit the floor.
"I've already lost one son to this war, another to death; I will not loose you as well! Not when you have come to mean as much as a daughter to me."
I gently reigned in my temper which threatened to explode. "I am 21 years old, almost 22. If I were a man, I would have already been fighting in this war long before now. I am going to go and I'm going fight, with or with out your permission." His eyes flashed and he shoved me back. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. "Look, I'm not going to apologize because I have nothing to be sorry for. All my life I have taken my freedom for granted. Sure, as a student I learned of the sacrifices that were made to form this country, but I never understood the measure of those sacrifices. I do now." I stared at him straight on, never wavering. "Thomas was a brother to me and I feel his death just as strongly as you do, but I refuse to sit behind and worry about you guys while you go and fight, and possibly die, for something as monumental as this. I understand what the price of freedom is now, and I cannot call myself an American if I do not fight for that freedom. You can forbid me to go, as you did Gabriel, but I will find a way to fight, even if I have to hop, skip and jump to get there."
Ben sighed exasperatedly, rubbing a hand down his face. "Why must you be so damn stubborn?!" He looked around, at a loss on what to do. "Fine. I can't believe I'm saying this, but fine. You can come, but the Army won't allow you to enlist."
At this point I smiled. "Well that's alright, because I wasn't joining the Army. I'm joining the Militia."
"When will you be back, Father?" Young William asked as Ben and I were saying our goodbyes to the children and Charlotte.
"I don't know," Ben answered.
"Tomorrow?" Oh, he's so cute.
"No, not tomorrow." He hugged William. "You say your prayers." Ben stood up after cupping William's cheek. "Nathan, I want you to take care of your brothers and sisters and your Aunt Charlotte," he told him as he shook Nathan's hand. "I'm depending on you. As I am on you, Samuel." He looked hard at Samuel for some reason. After addressing the older children, Ben picked Susan up, holding her above him. "Susan . . . goodbye?" However she didn't respond. After a few moments he kissed her forehead and sat her back down. As he said his awkward goodbye to Charlotte, I went through, distributing hugs and kisses to the kids who were now my family. When I got to Susan, she latched on around my neck with a strength that was surprising. I hugged her back with as much vigor and whispered, "I'll bring your Daddy back to you," She let go and I gently grasped her arms, staring into her beautiful blue eyes. "I promise." She nodded, her bottom lip quivering. I smiled slightly and stood up, stepping back from them.
"Stephanie." I turned and followed Ben over to the horses. I again had the same mare as before. I decided to name her Lainathiel (pronounced Lye-nah-thee-ell). As I hoped up onto her back I stroked her neck. "Come on, Lainathiel. Let's go catch up with Gabriel." We turned the horses and cantered down the road under the morning sun.
"Lainathiel?" Ben asked as soon as we were out of ear shot. He gave me a puzzled look. I smirked as we rode on.
"Yes. Lainathiel, that's what I decide to name this horse." I patted her neck affectionately. "It means freedom in elv- in another language." How the hell was I going to explain Elvish to him?
"Oh. I like it. It's . . ."
"Weird?"
"Well, I was going to say unique, but weird works too." I chuckled and rolled my eyes as we continued on.
We passed many plantations along the road we were traveling. However, after a certain point, the houses became more and more deserted. I asked Ben about it but he only shrugged. He thought that maybe, with the war moving in, many people left to avoid dealing with Redcoat or Continentals.
At one point we came across a plantation that was empty, however, many of its contents were strewn along outside, as if whoever left, left in a great hurry. We pulled our horses to a stop and decided to investigate. We hopped down and led our horses up the house where we saw another horse tied outside; it was Gabriel's.
It was a very beautiful house, except of course for the fact that it looked as if burglars had had a field day. As we climbed the steps up, we heard the ominous sound of canon fire, and it was close. Ben motioned me to be quite and we clambered our way into the house and up the stairs to the second story. Shortly after, the sounds of men's cries and musket fire were audible. We entered a bedroom that was facing west and saw Gabriel standing there, observing the battle that was commencing. There were far too many Redcoats and too few Continentals in the green field beyond the window.
Gabriel turned and stopped dead when he saw us standing behind him. "I'm not going back," he said with finality.
"No, I didn't expect you would," Ben answered, stepping up to gaze out of the window. He sighed. "That Gates is a damn fool. He spent too many years in the British Army. Going muzzle-to-muzzle with Redcoats in an open field. It's madness."
I saw the British stop, preparing to fire on the Americans. "Oh, boy. This is not gonna be pretty."
Gabriel turned back and observed me. "Stephanie, what . . . what are you doing here?"
I pulled my gaze from the battle field where a good many men fell from the volley of Redcoat muskets. "Same as you."
He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "What? No, you can't possibly . . . you're not coming to fight?"
"Yes she is," Benjamin remarked, turning to face us. "She is coming. She's good with that rifle of hers and she's got a few tricks that could be beneficial."
"But Father, it's too dangerous. Besides a wo—"
"If you say I cannot fight because I'm a woman, so help me God Gabriel, I will shoot you myself." I marched myself right up to him, my brows drawn over my eyes in anger. He had the decency to take a step back.
"Did I mention she can hold her own?" Benjamin eyes held a bit of amusement in them. Our eyes were drawn back to the field where the Dragoons were making their appearance. "This battle was over before it began." Ben and Gabriel turned around to head back out, but I stood transfixed as I watched Tavington kill many of my countrymen. Why do the bad guys have to be so yummy looking?!
An hour later, Ben, Gabriel, and I found ourselves at the Continental Army's camp. Before we entered, I had changed into less 'feminine' looking clothing as Benjamin called it, and into something a bit more . . . concealing. I had also taken my long chestnut hair and coiled it on top of my head, covering it with my black cowboy hat. All that was left was to pop the collar of my shirt a bit and walked with a little less grace. When we entered the camp, the somewhat happy mood from before dissipated in an instant. Men were screaming from the work of the surgeons, some of who were removing limbs while other men hung around their tents, disheartened and exhausted. I averted my eyes and kicked my horse forward to keep pace with Ben and Gabriel.
We dismounted besides a large white tent close to the center of camp. Ben went over to ask where the commanding officer was while Gabriel and I hung back. Glancing down, Gabriel saw a torn up and dirty American flag lying on the ground. Hesitantly he walked over and picked it up. A man with a bloodied bandage around his head spoke up with no hope in his voice. "It's a lost cause." Gabriel said nothing, just stuffed the abused flag into his bag and walked away.
I saw Ben head into the tent someone had pointed to, and followed him inside. He strolled over to a man who was leaning on a desk, obviously overwhelmed. When he looked up I was looking into the face of Colonel Burwell. He ignored me completely, his gaze focused on Ben. "Benjamin Martin. I'm in no mood for a lecture."
"Where's your General Gates now?"
"Well the last anyone saw, riding hard northeast, his staff a hundred yards behind trying to catch up." If I wasn't so focused on trying to appear as a guy, I might have snorted.
"So who's in command?" Ben asked.
"I am," the Colonel, or General, motioned his head. "I think."
"What are my orders?" I think the . . . I think Burwell was a bit surprised by Ben's question. Surprised and relieved at the same time.
He stepped forward and smiled, clasping Ben on the back. "We're a breath away from losing this war, Benjamin." He took Ben over to a table where a map of the eastern US was laid out. I stepped forward and looked down at the map. Burwell indicated up by Virginia. "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 500 of our troops when he took Charles Town."
"And he destroyed the only army between him and New York. So now there's nothing to stop him from heading north to finish off Washington." Washington, the George Washington. I prayed that I would live long enough to be able to meet him. Him and Ben Franklin and many of the other of the Founding Fathers.
"Unless we can keep Cornwallis in the south till the French arrive. They promised a fleet and 10,000 troops." Hehe, the French. I don't know why I found that funny.
"When?" Ben asked.
"Ahhhh, six months at the earliest."
"You actually trust the French to keep their word?" Burwell's eyes drifted to the corner of the tent.
"Absolument." A voice declared. All of us looked to the corner where a blond man was sitting in a light blue uniform. This man stood up and walked over, his hard eyes trained on Benjamin. I stepped back slightly from his withering gaze.
"Benjamin Martin. Major Jean Villeneuve. French Seventh Light Foot. He will help train the militia." Oh great, my new drill sergeant.
"The hero of Fort Wilderness. Your reputation precedes you." I looked between the two men. Ben tried to look everywhere but at us.
"You really expect to hold Cornwallis here using just militia?" I was very tempted to take offense to that, but merely glowered at the back of Ben's head.
"Not me. You." Ben laughed at Burwell's statement.
"Harry, they're not soldiers, they're farmers," Hello! Right behind you, you big oaf! "They'd be better off just letting the British march through."
"I don't think your friend agrees with you," Villeneuve said pointing to me. I guess my glaring was pretty evident if the French dude noticed. Ben turned a scowling look on me, but ignored Villanueva's statement.
"They'd be better off, but the cause wouldn't." Burwell walked away from us, grabbing a quill and paper he began to write something.
"How many men does Cornwallis have under his command?"
"8000 infantry. Around 600 Calvary." My mouth dropped open. That's a lot of men. "I'm giving you a field commission as a Colonel."
"Might I request sir, that you transfer my son here under my command?" Gabriel did not look happy.
"Sir, no I—"
"That's done."
"Thank you." Ben and Gabriel exited the tent quickly, Gabriel arguing about being under the command of his father. Jean and I moved a little more slowly.
"You're 'oftly small for a boy. I thought you Americans were 'strapping' men?" Jean remarked to me.
"Yes well, I guess the 'strapping' gene skipped me," I leapt up onto Lainathiel's back. I had to hold in a smile at his bewildered face. Score one for the me team.
"Teach you any humility?" I heard Ben ask Gabriel.
"He tried. It didn't take."
"He also taught you every deer path and swamp trail between here and Charles Town which is why I asked for your transfer. We'll put the word out. Start on the south side of the Santee—"
"We'll cover more ground if we split up," Gabriel interjected. Ben sized Gabriel up.
"Very well, Corporal. You and Steph—ah, Stephan, take Harrisville, Pembroke, Wakefield. I'll start on the north side of the Santee and we'll meet back at the old Spanish mission in Black Swamp."
"Yes, sir. Stephan?" Gabriel called after me as he rode on ahead. I guided my horse next to Ben's.
"Stephan?!" I whispered angrily. Ben winked and turned his horse around, intending to head in the opposite direction. I rolled my eyes and spurred Lainathiel into a gallop after Gabriel. Blah to them all!
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