It was nearly noon by the time the Green Dragoons finally rode into Pembroke. Tavington's hangover, combined with insufficient sleep from the night before, had left the dragoon commander in an irritable mood and he'd mostly kept his own counsel during the ride out from the fort.
Earlier, the dragoon leader had sent a scouting party ahead to reconnoiter so there would be no unpleasant surprises waiting for them when they rode into the small town. Once the scouts had returned and given the all-clear, Tavington led the dragoon column into the village at a moderate canter.
He called for a halt in front of the town's general store, as Wilkins had advised him that this was the hub of activity for the people of Pembroke. The general store, run by a well-known rebel sympathizer, Peter Howard, would be the most likely merchant to be supplying Martin's partisans. Wilkins had also told him that Howard and Martin went back many years, as they'd served in the previous war together.
As the dragoons had ridden into the town to its centre, Tavington noticed townspeople going about their normal business, giving the dragoons a wide berth, combined with hostile glances as they passed.
Tavington immediately noted that the presence of women far exceeded the number of men he saw, and what males he did see were mainly old men and boys. This confirmed his belief that Martin had been successful in his recruiting efforts in this small town.
After he held up his right hand to signal his men to stop, Tavington turned to Wilkins and Bordon and murmured, "I'd bet my commission that this little village is a hotbed of rebel activity."
"That would be quite a safe bet, in my opinion," Wilkins concurred. "I often heard people here expressing disagreement with the King's policies, even before the war."
Turning to his other side, Tavington ordered Ogilvie, "Take some men and have a look around the town and see what you can come up with."
"Yes, sir, right away," Ogilvie acknowledged, immediately turning to select a group of dragoons to assist.
Nervous villagers began gathering near the town store as Ogilvie's group began fanning out throughout the little town. Some had been heading toward Peter Howard's store to do business when the dragoon column had ridden into town, but none dared now to pass the horsemen, who effectively blocked access to the small establishment.
"What's going on here?" The door to the store opened to reveal a thin young woman with a sharp voice. She stood looking up defiantly at Tavington with narrowed eyes, with her hands on her hips. "You need to move your horses, as you're blocking my customers from coming in."
"Is that so?" Tavington said, smirking at the angry young woman. "And who is going to make us move, hmm?"
All the dragoons within Tavington's earshot chortled gleefully at the woman's discomfiture.
"What do you want?" Anne Howard demanded, still trying to put up a brave front. "We are law-abiding citizens minding our own business and you have absolutely no right to come here harassing decent people!"
Tavington was no longer amused by the woman's dogged hostility. Glaring down at her, he coldly said, "I have every right to be here."
Raising his voice so that the townspeople gathered nearby could hear, "I have reason to believe that this town is harbouring and supporting a rebel partisan group." After a pause, he continued, "Be forewarned! Those rebelling against the lawful authority of King George and his army will be charged with treason and then summarily executed."
"We're not afraid of your empty threats," Anne insisted "None of us have done anything wrong, so you might as well ride out of here and go back where you came from and leave us alone."
There was much murmuring in the crowd, but no one stepped forward to back Anne up.
By this time, Tavington's patience had stretched to the breaking point. The dragoon did not say a word, but he dismounted with cold, calculating purpose. As he slowly made his way to where Anne now stood quaking on the front porch of the store, realizing she'd gone too far, Wilkins and Bordon exchanged glances, knowing that the foolish young woman was about to seriously regret her impertinence with the Colonel.
Suddenly, Tavington darted forward and grabbed her by the throat. Shoving her hard against the store building, he moved in close, his ice blue eyes boring into hers, as he continued to apply pressure to her throat.
"You will guard your tongue and learn your place if you hope to see another day," he murmured, his voice sounding almost casual, but carrying a distinct undercurrent of menace. "I trust that my meaning is clear."
By this time, Anne's eyes were protruding from their sockets, wide with fear, as she began making choking sounds as she struggled to breathe.
Disgusted with the foolish chit, he released her, after which she slid down the rough wall to sprawl helplessly on the porch, gasping for breath. The townspeople were stunned and appalled by Tavington's casual brutality, but none moved forward to assist Anne.
Turning back to his men, he made a quick gesture toward the store, after which several dragoons dismounted and rushed inside to give it a thorough search. After assigning a guard to keep Anne out of the store, and leaving the rest of the dragoons to keep the townspeople at bay, Tavington strolled inside to join his men.
He entered the store to find his dragoons enthusiastically ransacking the place in their search for contraband. No other family members were present, so they were able to attend to their business unhindered.
With a tight smile, he instructed them, "Leave nothing untouched. Feel free to help yourselves to anything you desire, as you'll be firing the building once you're done. We'll teach these rebels the consequences of defying lawful authority."
The dragoons took Tavington strictly at his word and began greedily stuffing various items into their pockets, while at the same time carelessly throwing other things on the floor that didn't interest them, even taking their sabres to certain shelves, sweeping everything to the floor into a broken jumble. Accompanied by the sound of breaking glass and crockery, Tavington surveyed the rooms of the provincial store, then ventured upstairs to take a look at the family's private rooms.
He entered a large bedroom which was dominated by a heavy, oaken, canopied bedstead. Just left of the doorway was a large matching wardrobe. Tavington looked inside to find men's clothing of various types: coats, shirts, breeches, cravats, and so on. Judging from the size of the clothing, the owner was a short, stocky man. The dragoon rummaged through the coat pockets, hoping to come up with something incriminating.
Within a moment or two, Tavington's efforts were rewarded. Pulling several slips of paper out of a jacket pocket, he was elated to find a list of items and a promissory note signed by Peter Howard and none other than Benjamin Martin. Martin had written a few words on the note which made Tavington smile in gleeful satisfaction:
I know that it was your wish to donate almost everything we would need, but my conscience demands that I sign this note as a promise to pay a later agreed-upon sum for goods provided at war's end.
Benjamin Martin
Tavington opened a second slip of paper in the same handwriting as Benjamin Martin's addendum to the promissory note, which proved to be a list of items. He quickly scanned the list, which included various items, such as tents, blankets, cooking supplies, foodstuffs, bullet moulds, flints, muskets, knives, bridles and other gear for horses, and so on.
The dragoon's smile widened as he realized that Howard was no doubt the supplier for Martin's partisan group. Excellent.
After pocketing the two pieces of paper, Tavington continued to look around the room. He did not need to find any more proof of Howard's treason, but he looked to see if there was anything worth plundering. On the other side of the bed, he spied a woman's vanity table, with an elegant jewellery box sitting upon it. Opening the lid, he found several pieces of fine-looking jewellery. He picked it up and emptied the contents into one pocket to sort out later, as there was surely something in there that Charlotte might like.
He moved on to the next room, which was filled with items that suggested that this room belonged to the shrill-voiced termagant downstairs. He opened a wardrobe similar to the one in the other bedroom to find several gowns and other items of feminine attire, which gave off a faint scent of roses.
As he gazed at the virginal looking clothing with a critical eye, Tavington had a sudden inspiration. Moving closer to the opened wardrobe with a wicked grin, he opened his breeches and emptied his full bladder onto the gowns, making sure the stream made contact with each one. Even though he knew this was a futile gesture, as the house would be going up in flames within a very short time, the act nonetheless was highly satisfying for him.
Before he could explore the room further, he heard Bordon's voice downstairs calling him. Striding to the stairway, he looked down at Bordon standing at the bottom. "What is it, Bordon?"
"I think you'd better come down, sir," Bordon said in a tired voice. "There's a bit of a situation brewing."
When Tavington reached the bottom of the stairs a moment later, he was confronted by a dark haired middle-aged woman standing in fearful agitation in the doorway, who was no doubt the mother of the younger woman he'd chastised. Two dragoons flanked her, ready to intervene if she got out of hand.
"What's going on here?" she asked with a sweep of her hand to indicate the broken, ruined pile of merchandise strewn across the floor and to the dragoons who were hurrying upstairs to do the same to the second floor. "I returned home to find my poor daughter hysterical, lying on the porch half choked to death and then I walked in here to find our store demolished."
Pausing only to suck in a fresh lungful of air, she continued, "What gives you the right to simply come in and destroy our home and our livelihood for no good reason? My husband and I are respectable merchants. You clearly have been given faulty information."
"Oh, there's no mistake," Tavington told her, smirking. "Your husband is guilty of treason, which gives me every reason to be here."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she insisted. "My husband has a wooden leg from serving the King in the last war. He has served the King faithfully."
"Perhaps you don't know what I'm talking about or perhaps you do," the dragoon said, close to the end of his patience. "But no matter, I have all the proof I need to hang your husband."
Looking at the woman sharply, he demanded, "And just where is your husband? He doesn't seem to be minding his store."
"I've been visiting with my sick sister all morning," Mrs Howard explained, now visibly frightened. "I don't know exactly where my husband went, but he does deliver goods to nearby farmers from time to time."
Not wanting to listen to the woman any longer, he turned to the beefy sergeant guarding her and said, "Take her outside and detain her there. We'll be firing this building in a few minutes."
After telling another dragoon to go upstairs to tell the others to finish up and to get their torches ready, Tavington went back outside to find the two Howard women clutching one another in abject fear. Anne's neck was still red from where he choked her, with finger-shaped bruises beginning to form. She shrunk back behind her mother in fear as the arrogant dragoon strode onto the porch.
The townspeople were still milling around to see what would happen next, but so far had not interfered with the dragoons. Tavington paid them no mind as he strode over to Bordon, who had given the order to ready torches.
"Bordon, where is Wilkins?"
"He spotted Peter Howard's wagon coming into town, so he rode off to meet it before Howard saw what was going on here and turned around," his aide told him. Turning to gesture toward the northern edge of town, he pointed at the tall dragoon, accompanied by five other dragoons, escorting the Howard wagon into town.
"It would be a cold day in hell when Wilkins' thoroughbred could not easily catch two draft horses pulling a heavy peddler's wagon driven by a one-legged man," Tavington said, laughing scornfully.
"Quite," Bordon agreed, chuckling.
As the wagon slowly lumbered its way into town with its dragoon escort, Tavington called out to Wilkins, "Get him to park the wagon under that tree there. There's no need for him to get down when we're just going to string him back up."
Tavington strolled over to the large tree under which the Howard wagon was parked, which was directly across from the store. As the two Howard women watched fearfully from the porch, Tavington looked up at the nervously confused man and bawled, "All those found guilty of treason against the King will be summarily executed by hanging."
Howard swallowed hard, amazed at how quickly he'd been found out.
The dragoon, paying no attention to the one-legged man, continued, "However, you may be forgiven your treason if you would simply give me the location of Benjamin Martin's partisan group." Looking up at the older man with a sardonic grin, he concluded, "So, tell me, where is the location of Martin's base, hmm?"
Howard knew that Tavington was going to hang him whether he betrayed Ben or not, so he looked down at the haughty dragoon with narrowed eyes and a set jaw. "I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about."
"You had your chance," Tavington said indifferently. Gesturing to one group of dragoons and who held lit torches at the ready and another who had just strung a hastily constructed noose from the tree, he said, "Time to close down this sedition shop."
At hearing this, Anne and Mrs Howard hung on to each other for dear life, knowing that Mr Howard had just signed his own death warrant.
"Peter, no!" Mrs Howard cried out in anguish.
Howard gave his family a stern look that bade them to say no more. "I love you both. Always remember that." Holding his head high, he turned to Tavington and said, "Go ahead and do what you have to do."
It was all over in minutes. Peter Howard only had a few moments to see his home and his store burning, before the rope took him and he saw no more.
As Peter Howard dangled lifelessly before the town, Tavington loudly said, "Let this serve as an lesson. Treason will not be tolerated and will be punished to the fullest extent of the law."
Turning to Bordon, he said, "Disperse the crowd."
As Tavington's second in command moved to carry out his orders, a boy of about twelve years rode into Pembroke at a gallop, his horse lathered with its exertions. He rode right up to James Wilkins, who was easily distinguished from the other dragoons because of his great height.
"Mr Wilkins!" the boy called out, short of breath. "I'm so glad I caught up to you! Someone had said they'd seen you riding earlier in this direction and I'm happy to see they were right!"
"Calm down, Josiah," he said. "What's wrong? Are Mistress Miller and Miss Susan all right?"
Tavington, who had mounted his horse, came over and asked, "What's going on, Wilkins?"
"I'm just about to find out," the junior officer explained. "This is Josiah, a stable hand on my sister's plantation." Looking back at the boy, he said, "Go ahead, Josiah."
"It's the partisans!" he announced, still gulping for air. "They're attacking the farm! I was out back when they rode up, saddling a horse for Mistress Miller to ride. I managed to get away without them seeing me. After running into Nate Jones on the road, when he told me where he'd seen you, I came here."
Turning to the rest of the dragoons, Tavington called out, "To horse!"
A moment later, the dragoon column was thundering back down the road in the direction of the Miller farm, Pembroke forgotten for now.
Thanks to my loyal readers and reviewers. It is from you I gain my enthusiasm to write.
Historical note: The phrase "sedition shop" comes from Major James Wemyss, who was the second man that Tavington's character was based on. Wemyss once referred a particular Presbyterian Church as a "sedition shop", as he believed the membership the source of a great deal of rebel activity.
Next chapter: Raid and Rescue