Chapter 35 – The Space In-between

It was the best feeling in the world feeling the cold water of the stream splashing against my face. I didn't want to go too far into the stream as it would take forever for my clothes to dry and I would be cold in the night. My blonde hair was thick with muck and dried blood. There was a cut on the back of my head where I had been pushed into a wall, and that was sore as I tried to wet my hair. Gabriel on the request of my father had come with me to the stream. He looked very important and professional standing on the bank looking into the thick of the trees, pistol in his hand.

We had talked about everything. It had been so long since I had properly seen him. I had found out that when we had left the plantation that he and my father had gone to the Colonial camp. My father had been commissioned to train the Militia with my father's level of experience in warfare and that Gabriel had been assigned to him as a Corporal. I had found out that my younger brothers and sisters were safe with our Aunt Charlotte on her plantation, although they had to be moved from there as there were traitors in the British camp and my father feared for their lives.

I had also found out that my older brother Gabriel had gotten himself engaged to my good friend Anne in the town of Pembroke! The militia had been using the townsfolk to help them get supplies for the militia and that my brother had sought Anne out when he was there. I was very happy for them. Anne had constantly been asking after me every time the militia were in Pembroke. The next time they went I would be able to surprise her.

"Gabriel?" I asked from in the stream.

"Yes?" My brother replied turning to look at me. The clothes that I had on were soaked through, even though I had tried to keep them as dry as possible.

"Have you got any spare clothes in the camp that I could wear?" At that Gabriel went straight away to find some. He was good like that.

It felt so strange to be amongst my family again. I felt that I was just expected to turn back into a naive little girl and let my father and his men protect me. I had been in the British camp for 9 months and I had gotten through it on my own. I knew that when me and Gabriel joined the rest of the camp again, that I would go looking for a pistol of my own to have on me. After all I did have a promise to keep.

When Gabriel returned minutes later with an armful of clothes. He looked a bit uncomfortable! I laughed at his awkward expression. He took a deep breath in and said "All we have is men's clothes."

"That's alright, I didn't expect you to have another dress at the camp."

Gabriel laughed "No, I don't suppose you would have" It was good to hear him laugh. He had the pained look of someone who had seen too much war in such a little space of time and at such a young age. He always looked cheerful, but you could see a deep sadness behind his eyes. I could tell that he missed Thomas and our other brothers and sisters, as I did. But Gabriel was closer to Thomas 

than he was too me. He had also lost his best friend, Peter Cuppin at the beginning of this war. He was happy with Anne, but she would not replace his best friend or brother.

Knowing now that I had fresh clothes to change into, I let myself fall backwards into the stream. It was heaven letting the water consume me. My hair broke away from my head and floated free in the water. I pushed against the floor and came back up for breath. Water was dripping from my face, and I gave it a good rub. I would look a different person when I was clean. After another 5 minutes I said to my brother "Would you turn around please Gabriel, so that I can get changed?"

"Oh... yes" Replied Gabriel once again looking awkward. I gave a little chuckle.

I stepped out of the stream and finding the clothes left on the ground for me, I changed into them. It was so refreshing. I had a pair of men's breeches which I tied tighter with a belt. There was a white shirt on the floor and a red British jacket. There was something surprisingly comforting about putting that red coat on. They were very warm as well. I pulled on a pair of boots, which were slightly too big for me, but beggars can't be choosers. I would have to stuff them with something later.

"Okay Gabriel, I'm ready to go back now." Gabriel turned around to face me once again. Seeing my hair dripping down my back he pulled a leather piece out of his hair and allowed me to tie mine up with it. That made me warmer already.

"Okay." And with that we started walking back through the dark woods towards the camp. I left my petticoat on the floor by the stream, I didn't want it anymore.

"Gabriel?" I asked. Not waiting for a reply I carried on "I want you to find me a pistol and a knife."

He turned around, looking stunned. "Why do you want a pistol? Or a knife?"

"Gabriel..." I said looking into his eyes, "I have made a promise and I need to keep it. Plus if I'm going to be walking around in a British uniform, I might need to protect myself!"

Once we got back into the main camp, Gabriel went and found me what I had asked for. I put a holster on to my borrowed belt and placed the pistol in it. The short bladed knife that he gave me, I placed inside my boot. I went to sit by the fire once again, only this time there was a blanket waiting for me to try and get some sleep. Gabriel and my father looked at me, both surprised at the sight of me in a military uniform, with a gun holstered to my belt.

Gabriel said in a quiet voice so that only my father could hear, "Do you know what? One day they'll have women fighting in the army as well! I bet you any amount of money they will."

"You're on" replied our father.

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That same night in the warm of the British Manor House, the Lord General Cornwallis was sat having his dinner. He had only one thing on his mind and it was making him madder every second that he dwelled on it. He had been tricked, deceived and humiliated by that Colonial commander. Who did he think that he was, coming into their camp, making demands and then double crossing them! He was an officer! Meant to be a gentleman! How wrong he was about the colonial.



Cornwallis was eating, but he felt empty inside. All of his camp had seen that he was deceived. They were all probably laughing at him! And that thought infuriated him even more! There was only one thing to do for it! He had to make an example of that colonial, show everyone that they did not make a fool out of the Lord General! And just to think, he had had his daughter in the camp as a prisoner!

That moment there was a knock on his office door. Cornwallis knew who it was, he had sent for him especially. If there was one man who could get results, it was Tavington.

"Come..." called Cornwallis. He did not get up from his chair. The door slowly opened and Corneal Tavington stepped deliberately into the office, the spurs on his boots clinking with every step. He was a monster of a man. He was intimidating at the best of times, but as he stepped into the darkened office, which was only lit from the slow burning fire in the grate, he could see the icy blue shine from Tavingtons eyes. This made him even more fearful than normal.

Cornwallis smiled a twisted smile. He knew that Tavington was under his command. He was the perfect man for the job.

"My Lord?" Tavington asked. He had seen the scarecrow's in British uniforms earlier that day and had guessed that they had been deceived. He knew that they should have just killed the militia men when they had the chance. He had come face to face with the "Ghost" and he was inches away from killing him. One sharp swipe of his blade and it could have all been over. The "Ghost" was the bane of his existence, and he had a funny feeling what was to come.

"That man..." started Cornwallis, "INSULTS ME!!" he shouted banging his hand abruptly on the table in front of him. Tavington could see that the Lord General was angry, no, more than angry, he was fuming! However when the Corneal had wanted to kill him, he had been restrained.

"Rather good for a farmer with a pitch fork, wouldn't you say?" Tavington knew that Cornwallis didn't have much regard for the militia, he had said so many times before. And now the company he mocked had been the ones to surprise him the most.

Cornwallis was quiet, he knew that Tavington was testing him. He should say something back to him, but he unfortunately had to keep Tavington on his good side as he needs him to do something for him. The Lord General knew he had been a fool for ignoring the influence of the militia, they had proved a vital part to the colonial forces.

"I want him found, I want him killed." He said in a deathly calm whisper. Waiting for Tavigntons reaction. Cornwallis always wondered whether Tavington actually enjoyed doing what he did when he was gathering his reputation as the dreaded butcher!

After a minute Tavington said in an equal whisper "I'll find him for you," taking a step towards the Lord General, "But to do so, will require actions that your lordship termed...brutal?"

Cornwallis looked at the corneal in front of him and said, "What ever it takes." He wanted that man dead. No one would ever make a fool out of him again. He could see that Tavington was going to enjoy doing it.



Tavington took another breath and said "And you and I both know that I would never be able to return to England with honour,"

Cornwallis knew exactly what it was that Tavington was after. That was after all what the Lord General had been in countless meetings about that day. "You know the real value of this country after the war will be real estate..." Looking into the Corneal eyes, Cornwallis knew that he would loose half of his land, for Tavington demanded a price.

With a sneer that echoed through the dim room, Tavington said "Tell me about, Ohio."

The Lord General Cornwallis looked at the Corneal in front of him, the dreaded butcher. The deal was done.

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William Tavington, a man feared by many and greatly respected by his men was a fine leader. He knew what he wanted and would do almost anything to get it, in fact he had already done enough terrible things to earn himself a one way ticket into hell once he died. It was true that he had little mercy, although there was one person who he had shown mercy too. She was a scared little slip of a girl when he had first set eyes on her, but she straight away proved to be more than that. Lucy Martin had taken a shot at him when they were back on the Martin's plantation and then when being taken into hostage had broken one of his men jaws by kicking out of their grip.

She had been nothing to him to begin with, and now that she was gone he didn't know what she had meant to him. She was a constant pain in his side when she had been there at the British camp, always getting herself into situations. There were moments when he wanted to ring her neck, but again there were times when he just didn't know.

His mind flashed back to the kiss that they had shared the night before. He had felt a passion that he had not felt for a long time, not since his lover had been murdered 6 years ago.

When William Tavington was back in England, he was the son of a rich man. Well everyone presumed he was rich, but the truth was that his father was a drunk who gambled away any money that the family had. His father in a drunken rage had made a pass at the corneal lover, and she, repulsed had pushed him away. It was the ultimate price, for his father was used to getting his own way. She had lost her life for that, as Williams's father had beaten her to death when he couldn't have his own way.

William had found her in the morning, surrounded by her own cold blood in the manors sitting room. His father passed out in the chair in front of the fire, her blood spattered on his clothes, hands and face. He had sworn that he would never mention her name again and that he would never forgive his father. It was then that William Tavington realised what he was capable off. He had killed his father in cold blood with his bare hands, showing him the same mercy that his father had shown his lover. Like a monster lurking within him, he had done things that night that he had never though himself capable off.

It was this night that haunted William Tavington the most.



That day, William Tavington took all the money that his father had owned, and bought himself a commission as a major in the army. He was on a boat sailing for America the next day. Of course he had shined as a commander of men, and he soon earned himself a brutal reputation. Earning along with that his position as Corneal of the mounted green dragoons.

William had never planned to go back to England when the war was over, he didn't think that he could face being in the same place where she had died. It held too many horrible memories, memories that haunghted the corneal every night for the past 6 years.

However, walking away from the manor house in the coldness of the night, towards the tents of his men, he suddenly felt a feeling like karma. William Tavington stopped walking and took a deep breath, breathing in the coldness. He had made a promise to himself never to show mercy to anyone who crossed his path, for you never knew what they were capable off. Never to let anyone get too close to him for it only caused him heart ache. This was the reason why William Tavington was such a effective killing machine! He could see the bad in every person that he saw, never giving them the opportunity to show their true colours.

But somewhere, on the road to Washington, there was a young woman who had made him stop and think. Someone who inspired new emotions in him.

"Snap out off it Tavington." Major Borden said from behind him. William didn't even hear him walking up towards him. His mind was defiantly miles away! This was not good for a solider. "So what did Cornwallis want to see you about?"

"We have something to do, Borden" Said Tavington, looking towards the black horizon. He was a professional after all, if he showed any weakness his men would pick up on it. "Follow me."

Tavington and Major Borden walked briskly through the now damp grass towards the tent. Tavington knew exactly which one he wanted. Pushing his way through the many tents he found it, Borden walking quickly behind him. Tavington pulled the tent flap aside and stepped into the lamp-lit tent. His men went to stand up, a mark of respect expected by every officer.

"At ease" he said, hoping not to disturb too many of the slumbering men. He continued to walk to the end of the tent, and there he was, Captain Wilkins asleep in his cot.

"Wilkins!" Tavington shouted. The captain woke with a jilt! He was clearly not expecting to be woken up.

"Sir?" Replied Wilkins in a sleepy, half awake drawl.

"Lucy Martin," he began. Wilkins began to pay attention. "Her father?"

"Benjamin Martin?" Replied Wilkins, not sure what it was the Corneal wanted from him. He sat up in his cot, swinging his legs around so his feet were on the floor.

"He is the Ghost" Piped in Major Borden who was standing slightly behind the Corneal. Wilkins looked confused. He knew that this was a possibility, after all he had quizzed Lucy Martin about it the night before.



Tavington took an inpatient breath in, "What do you know about him?"

"Hell everything," Replied Wilkins, eager to please his intimidating Corneal. "I can tell you the size of his boots"

"Does he have family?" Said the Corneal, growing more impatient as the seconds passed. He really didn't like the Captain. "Where would he hide them?"

Wilkins looked suddenly uncomfortable. He had after all known the family for a long time, and even though he had his issues with Lucy Martin, he did not want to betray the rest of the "Ghosts" young family. Wilkins had heard of the Corneal reputation, who knew what he would do. But as Tavington gave him a glare with his icy, unforgiving eyes, Wilkins realised that he had a lot too prove to the Corneal. He knew that Tavington did not trust him.

Wilkins looked as though he was fighting an internal battle. But Tavington was growing inpatient. He continued to glare at the colonial, turned traitor in front of him, thinking of ways to punish him if he did not give him the information that he wanted. Wilkins's head on a spike flashed through his mind.

"His wife's sister," began Wilkins. He hoped that Tavington had an ounce of pity that he would show to Martins young family, "has a plantation. It's not far..."

That was all that Tavington needed to know. That land that Cornwallis had promised, was his.