A/N: YaY! I've introduced Liberty's Kids to some people! Finally! Now
please try writing some fics? I sound desperate, I know, but it's tough
being the only one to write this stuff, (though I *LUV* doing it, so don't
worry!) and everyone else is MUCH better at writing this than me! *sighs*
And, also, Henri is supposed to be eight, but let's say that he was 8 in
the beginning and turned 9, and then, the next year, 10, then, the next
year, 11! And Sara's 15, but so is James! Okie? Sorry, I shouldn't do this,
but, oh well! And he acts the same, though.
Well, as Cosmo from the Fairly Odd Parents says: Even if two wrongs don't
make a right, three rights make a left! And now it's time for the show! La
cucaracha! La cucaracha! Blah blah blah blah blah!..
A/N2: If you read the above, I bow to you. You deserve the Best Reader Ever Award. But I can't give it to you, 'cause they haven't invented it yet- and even if they have, I'm broke. :p Frizzle.
James heard the voices downstairs. And since Henri wasn't around to clutter the silence with rantings of how he missed peach cobbler and grape jam and licorice and candy canes.well, er, anyway, James could hear every word perfectly.
Contrary to certain people's belief (Sara's and yours), he wasn't asleep. He was awake, and he heard Michael call Sara "nymph".
What the heck?! Even though he knew that if he voiced that thought, he'd be fined, James couldn't help it. That- that *playboy*! He was hitting on Sara!
James sat on his bed abruptly. He shouldn't care.it was just Sara. *Just Sara?! What's wrong with you!* one part of him thought, while the other.*Well, yeah. James doesn't like Sara. Does he?*
James thought. Did he? Well, yeah, sure she was kind and caring and nice and smart and spunky and thoughtful and beautiful, with those curves and that hair.
James plopped back on to the bed. He *really* was delirious. *Well, if you're delirious, how can you admit that you are?*
James frowned. This was too confusing and out of whack. He needed to sleep. He closed his eyes, and soon was in somewhat peaceful slumber.
***
Henri turned his head back and forth to look through the crowd that was coming off the ship.
"Iz she English too? Like S'ara?"
Moses shook his head. "I don't think so, Henri. This boats coming from the coast of some part of the uninhabited by the Americans."
"Oh. How old iz she?" Henri had a thousand questions. Was she nice? Married? Why was she sent here?.and on and on.
"She's turning eleven soon." Henri raised an eyebrow. But then he smiled. Finally, another one his age! He was turning twelve soon.
"How will she find us?" He knew Moses didn't have much of an idea of her.
"She knows what I look like. The person who recommended her told her." That made Henri look up.
"What has she written?" Moses gave him a piece of paper.
"See for yourself."
Henri looked at the paper proudly. He had learned to read very well over the years, though he was still nagged by Moses about his arithmetic and maths. Henri had expected a well rounded and heart- felt story like Sara's; or an adventurous and exciting one like James's. But what he read was quite different.
The drummer boy looked at the bodies; every one of them strained with blood, dead or wounded. The British were smiling. They were happy; how could they be? Seeing this scene made him queasy; but it made the British soldiers laugh.
Suddenly, he was seized with blind fury. The drum clashed with the ground. He grabbed the nearest gun of a dead man.
He started shooting. His bullet hit a nearby smiling soldier. The Lobster back fell to the ground, dead. The others turned around, scared and alert.
The drummer boy looked at the gun in his hands. What had he done? He'd killed mercilessly, like the British. He looked at the dead man. He dropped his gun and ran.
This is liberty and freedom, he thought, as he ran. What I did was not right, shooting from the back, and not following the rules of war. That is what those soldiers were doing.
This is the war. This is the King's mercy; he has none. We must not do the same. We must be compassionate, honest, and worthy of our choice; free Americans.
Henri looked at the paper wonderingly. He was about to show his reaction to Moses- but he heard someone call.
He turned his head to see a young girl. She was a Native American, he could see by her dark skin and jet-black hair. She was wearing a dress not unlike Sara's- except it had a ruffled long strip down the front, from her small waist and down.
Around her neck he could see a necklace with a charm on it, though he couldn't tell what it was.
She had seen Moses and was rapidly running towards them. She held a large carpet bag, which Moses took hold of as soon as she came close enough.
"Pleased to meet you young one. What is your name?" Moses smiled cheerfully in her direction.
"Ar-Arrow. It's Arrow." Her voice was American, like James's, but more of the earth, of nature. She was hurriedly gulping down breaths. Henri looked at her necklace. The charm was a white feather, with blue and green beads on the sides. It was on a leather rope.
"What are you staring at?" A uptight voice disturbed his thoughts.
"Don't get zo angry! I waz looking at your necklace- it's very pretty."
"Oh. Well, thank you. And I'm sorry. Oh! I forgot!" She curtseyed towards Moses, than to him. "What is your name?"
"Henri. My whole name is much longer. What's your full name?"
She smiled wickedly. "Arrow Rosethorn Star Lightning Wolf. Of the Sioux tribe." She crossed her arms and grinned.
Henri smiled. He *liked* this girl. She acted nothing like Sara. Which wasn't a bad thing, but Sara was more like an older sister to him. In Arrow, He could see a friend.
*** A/N: The plot thickens.*giggles* I promise for more war, and yeah, there'll be historical.uh.history in here. I got books from the library to do this fic! I promise to write more.
Luv ya,
Callie
A/N2: If you read the above, I bow to you. You deserve the Best Reader Ever Award. But I can't give it to you, 'cause they haven't invented it yet- and even if they have, I'm broke. :p Frizzle.
James heard the voices downstairs. And since Henri wasn't around to clutter the silence with rantings of how he missed peach cobbler and grape jam and licorice and candy canes.well, er, anyway, James could hear every word perfectly.
Contrary to certain people's belief (Sara's and yours), he wasn't asleep. He was awake, and he heard Michael call Sara "nymph".
What the heck?! Even though he knew that if he voiced that thought, he'd be fined, James couldn't help it. That- that *playboy*! He was hitting on Sara!
James sat on his bed abruptly. He shouldn't care.it was just Sara. *Just Sara?! What's wrong with you!* one part of him thought, while the other.*Well, yeah. James doesn't like Sara. Does he?*
James thought. Did he? Well, yeah, sure she was kind and caring and nice and smart and spunky and thoughtful and beautiful, with those curves and that hair.
James plopped back on to the bed. He *really* was delirious. *Well, if you're delirious, how can you admit that you are?*
James frowned. This was too confusing and out of whack. He needed to sleep. He closed his eyes, and soon was in somewhat peaceful slumber.
***
Henri turned his head back and forth to look through the crowd that was coming off the ship.
"Iz she English too? Like S'ara?"
Moses shook his head. "I don't think so, Henri. This boats coming from the coast of some part of the uninhabited by the Americans."
"Oh. How old iz she?" Henri had a thousand questions. Was she nice? Married? Why was she sent here?.and on and on.
"She's turning eleven soon." Henri raised an eyebrow. But then he smiled. Finally, another one his age! He was turning twelve soon.
"How will she find us?" He knew Moses didn't have much of an idea of her.
"She knows what I look like. The person who recommended her told her." That made Henri look up.
"What has she written?" Moses gave him a piece of paper.
"See for yourself."
Henri looked at the paper proudly. He had learned to read very well over the years, though he was still nagged by Moses about his arithmetic and maths. Henri had expected a well rounded and heart- felt story like Sara's; or an adventurous and exciting one like James's. But what he read was quite different.
The drummer boy looked at the bodies; every one of them strained with blood, dead or wounded. The British were smiling. They were happy; how could they be? Seeing this scene made him queasy; but it made the British soldiers laugh.
Suddenly, he was seized with blind fury. The drum clashed with the ground. He grabbed the nearest gun of a dead man.
He started shooting. His bullet hit a nearby smiling soldier. The Lobster back fell to the ground, dead. The others turned around, scared and alert.
The drummer boy looked at the gun in his hands. What had he done? He'd killed mercilessly, like the British. He looked at the dead man. He dropped his gun and ran.
This is liberty and freedom, he thought, as he ran. What I did was not right, shooting from the back, and not following the rules of war. That is what those soldiers were doing.
This is the war. This is the King's mercy; he has none. We must not do the same. We must be compassionate, honest, and worthy of our choice; free Americans.
Henri looked at the paper wonderingly. He was about to show his reaction to Moses- but he heard someone call.
He turned his head to see a young girl. She was a Native American, he could see by her dark skin and jet-black hair. She was wearing a dress not unlike Sara's- except it had a ruffled long strip down the front, from her small waist and down.
Around her neck he could see a necklace with a charm on it, though he couldn't tell what it was.
She had seen Moses and was rapidly running towards them. She held a large carpet bag, which Moses took hold of as soon as she came close enough.
"Pleased to meet you young one. What is your name?" Moses smiled cheerfully in her direction.
"Ar-Arrow. It's Arrow." Her voice was American, like James's, but more of the earth, of nature. She was hurriedly gulping down breaths. Henri looked at her necklace. The charm was a white feather, with blue and green beads on the sides. It was on a leather rope.
"What are you staring at?" A uptight voice disturbed his thoughts.
"Don't get zo angry! I waz looking at your necklace- it's very pretty."
"Oh. Well, thank you. And I'm sorry. Oh! I forgot!" She curtseyed towards Moses, than to him. "What is your name?"
"Henri. My whole name is much longer. What's your full name?"
She smiled wickedly. "Arrow Rosethorn Star Lightning Wolf. Of the Sioux tribe." She crossed her arms and grinned.
Henri smiled. He *liked* this girl. She acted nothing like Sara. Which wasn't a bad thing, but Sara was more like an older sister to him. In Arrow, He could see a friend.
*** A/N: The plot thickens.*giggles* I promise for more war, and yeah, there'll be historical.uh.history in here. I got books from the library to do this fic! I promise to write more.
Luv ya,
Callie