The militia was hidden behind trees and the English supplies transporter never saw the ambush coming. They were accurate shooters and killed a lot of red coat before some of them asked for surrender. Major Villeneuve killed them no matter what they implied.
"These men were about to surrender!" Reverend Oliver yelled.
"Perhaps, we will never know," the French major answered.
Benjamin Martin, the leader of the militia intervened and told his men they should give quarter from now on. He was stopped by John Billings, who told him to come closer. With the help of the reverend, they were going through what the wagons were carrying to the british fort.
"It's the personal correspondence of Lord Cornwallis, his journal."
The men were tired after his assault against redcoats, but their victory brought a sense of joy in the camp. They brought everything back to the place they were setting camp, Black Swam. The british would never find them there, you had to be from around here to know the place. The deep swamp all around also gave them the advantage of the surroundings.
"While they were busy celebrating, drinking, playing music, Benjamin was reading carefully the general's letters and the journal. He found an interesting pen pal. He could not believe his luck when he learned that not only the general's daughter was coming to the colonies, but also that she signed her name Tavington. He had to read it several times to make sure his mind wasn't making this up. Tavington. The Butcher. The cold-hearted bastard who killed his son Thomas for absolutely no reason, in from of his whole family. The one who condemned his son Gabriel to be hung, not even following the rules of was. Since the day the redcoat officer came to his doorstep and burned his house, he was looking for revenge. His reputation and the militia's were quite renowned now and he knew Tavington wanted to catch em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"the ghost/em who was destroying the supply lines. If he could find this woman, and kill her, maybe it would relieve him somehow. She would probably be in the fort, well guarded. He would figure something out, post men around Fort Carolina, to spot movement, and checked if she could be seen from outside the fort. It was a long shot, but he had to try.
He rose from his seat and came closer to his officers, near the fire burning.
"I've just been into the mind of a genius. He knows more about war that we could learn in a lifetime. Perhaps that's his weakness."
"Sir?"
"Pride's a weakness."
"Personally, I would prefer stupidity."
"Pride will do."