AN: HI everyone! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews and e-mails! Here is the next chapter. Nice and long for you. This will probably be it until next week some time. I'm going away this weekend for a well needed vacation to Equine Affaire. Please R & R.
Chapter 6: Uncharacteristic Concern…
Sarah was shaking with fear and uncertainty as she walked slowly through the woods following the men who had taken Jareth. She was careful to stay hidden by the trees. The afternoon had grown cold and clouds had once again swallowed up the blue sky. She pressed on despite the fact that her feet were aching from such a long walk. She had been walking for hours with no break. She couldn't afford to rest or she might lose track of Jareth.
She couldn't believe how a simple movement had alerted the men to her and Jareth's presence on the hill. She tried not to think about it, but try as she might, it became a nagging thought. Jareth had been captured and it had been her fault.
It was almost evening when the men decided to stop. They arrived at a very poorly built campsite with tents that looked as if they were made of bed sheets. Sarah thought back to her history classes and had to remind herself that the war had just started, although these men might not have realized it. They were still gathering those who protested the King of England's laws and taxes to create a militia.
Babies and children could be heard crying. Women were preparing meals, washing clothes and trying to help men who were bleeding from musket ball and bayonet wounds. Sarah could only guess that these were frightened families, as well as their loved ones, who had been injured and had left Concord for the safety of the woods.
Sarah hid on the outskirts of the camp and watched as the men took Jareth down from his horse and led him to the far side of camp. Sarah crept carefully and watched as the dark haired man from earlier forced Jareth to walk faster. Sarah knew that Jareth was in pain, but he tried not to show it. He walked tall and kept his head held high like the King that he was.
The dark haired man stopped in front of a tent made of a heavier canvas. "Colonel, you should get out here. There's somethin' you should see." He grinned at Jareth with his mouth of missing teeth.
An older gentleman with a beard stepped from the tent. He was dressed in a blue wool coat, tan breeches and black riding boots. "What do you have to show me, James?"
James shoved Jareth forward and it took all of Jareth's strength to keep from falling over. "Found this one wandering around in the woods. He's English, a loyalist, and possibly a spy."
"Who sent you?" The Colonel asked Jareth. He eyed Jareth suspiciously, glancing at his clothing and his strange hairstyle.
"No one sent me. And I was not spying," Jareth said evenly.
'Well, what the hell do you call watching us ride by? That's spyin in my book," James let out.
"I heard voices and merely chose to investigate," Jareth continued. It was the truth. He and Sarah had chosen to investigate, nothing more.
"I see." The Colonel didn't seem convinced.
"He had a woman with him, sir," James added.
"A woman?"
James nodded.
"As his traveling companion, she might have valuable information that could get into the hands of the British. Our numbers are small, but if the British discover our camp they will make certain to teach a lesson to other colonists with our deaths. We can't let that happen. The woman must be found." The Colonel commanded.
"We planned on sending the dogs out in the mornin', sir."
The Colonel nodded and touched his beard with his fingers. "Good idea. It's too dark to conduct a proper search now and she shouldn't get too far with her male escort captured." The Colonel turned and reached for the flap of his tent.
'Sir, what shall I do with the spy?" James inquired.
"Tie him up in a tent on the other side of the camp and station a guard outside. We'll hang him in the morning." The Colonel stared hard at Jareth. "I would rather not waste any musket balls." The Colonel went into his tent and dismissed the situation.
James grabbed hold of Jareth and forced him to walk. "Hear that Loyalist, you're gettin' hung in the morning." He laughed and pushed Jareth on.
Sarah bit her lip and watched the dark haired man, James, take Jareth to a tent. She crept carefully along the perimeter of the camp. She didn't want to let Jareth out of her sight for a second.
James knocked the flap of the tent door aside and pushed Jareth roughly inside. Sarah sank to her knees beside a rock and watched as James tied Jareth's hands above his head to a wooden pole.
James made certain that the ropes were tied tightly. Jareth winced slightly as James pulled the rope taunt for a final time. James only snickered at Jareth's uncomfort. He turned as if he was going to leave the tent and then swung his fist and hit Jareth in the stomach. Jareth tried to double over to protect himself from further abuse but couldn't because his hands were tied above his head. James laughed and, tossing the flap of the tent aside, walked out.
The flap of the tent was still open enough that Sarah could see Jareth. The Goblin King was pulling at the ropes that bound him, but he learned that his efforts were futile.
Despite the fact that she was frightened, Sarah started out of the woods to see if she could free Jareth. Almost as soon as she had left the safety of the woods, a young man appeared with a musket. He sat on a barrel outside of Jareth's tent and put his feet up on a nearby crate. Sarah cursed and rushed back into the woods before she could be seen.
She paced as she thought about what she could do. She couldn't go up against a man with a musket. She had no weapons, no fighting skills. And if she were recognized by any of the men who had captured Jareth, she would probably be shot or strung up beside Jareth the next morning.
She froze in mid-step as her eyes fell upon a rope with a noose hanging from an oak tree and a small crate on the ground beneath the rope on one side of the camp. An image of Jareth standing on the crate with the rope around his neck flashed into her mind. She closed her eyes and shook her head to make the image fade. She couldn't let them hang him. If he died, she would be alone in this place. And how would she get home?
Biting her fingernails, she started to pace and she gazed out over the camp trying to figure out what she could do. She gazed at the busy camp looking for some distraction, some idea of what she could do to free Jareth. Plopping herself down angrily on a rock, she crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. What was she going to do?
Her eyes fell upon a woman across camp who offered a tray of food to one of the men. He placed his musket against a tree beside him and taking the food began to eat. Sarah eyes were drawn to the plate of food like metal is drawn to a magnet. The food looked like chicken with some vegetables. She was starving and it looked so good. Glancing away from the food, Sarah saw a line strung up with clothes to dry. She suddenly had an idea.
* * *
Robert sighed and pulled his cap down. He had been slightly more than angry when he heard that he had been chosen to guard the prisoner. He'd rather be out drinking and playing cards with the others.
"Hungry, Mr. Green?"
Robert lifted his cap and opened his eyes to see one of the young women from town standing with a tray full of food.
He smiled. "Starved. You can put it there," he gestured to a barrel near by and with a shy smile she left the food for him. He watched as she walked away, his eyes moving over the curves of her body.
Sarah watched as the guard was occupied with the woman's exit. Rushing down the hill into the camp, Sarah snatched a piece of clothing that hung on one of the clothes' lines. She tried to pull the clothing over her sweatshirt, but the slender dress just wouldn't fit over the bulky material. Sarah sighed and decided it would be better to leave her sweatshirt behind. She still had her t-shirt on, so at least she had something beneath the dress. The white dress looked horrible with the collar of a green t-shirt hanging out, but Sarah felt that she fit in more. She was grateful that the dress was long enough to cover her jeans.
She hid behind one of the neighboring tents to watch the woman who had given the guard food, move away. Sarah heard laughter and saw a group of men drinking and playing cards. Her eyes fell upon a glass bottle a few yards away and she moved carefully to retrieve it.
Robert sighed and after a few moments made his way over to the food. He made a face at it. Chicken again. They had eaten chicken all day, where was the beef that the Colonel had promised? Deciding that he should just eat it, he dug the fork into the meat and lifted it to his mouth.
Sarah took a deep breath. It was now or never.
As Robert lifted the fork to his mouth, he heard a feminine giggle. He dropped the fork and turned to see a young woman with long brown hair standing with a bottle of brandy in her hands. He made a face at her attire and then grinned. She was giggling and judging by her outfit she was most likely drunk. He had never seen her before, but that didn't matter. He could take her into the woods for a quick roll in the leaves and be back to guard the prisoner before anyone knew he was gone. He glanced at the bottle in her hand. And no one had to know if he had a few drinks, either.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing over here?" He grinned at her and put his hands on his hips. His smile was seductive.
Sarah smiled and gave him a look over. He wasn't a bad looking guy. Tall, a bit too lanky, but beautiful green eyes and dirty blond hair. "Well, I don't know. What's a handsome man like you doing over here guarding the big bad British man?"
Jareth's head jerked up at the voice he heard. He shifted his weight and struggled to peer out the flap of the tent. It was still open enough that he could see what was going on outside. His eyes widened when he saw Sarah. They widened even further when he saw what she was wearing. His lips curled into a dangerous grin as he watched Sarah flirt with the guard. It didn't take long for the young man to be drawn in by Sarah's charm. The man made a move to pull her toward him, but Sarah easily dodged his arms.
"Oh, and aren't you just a naughty boy?" she teased.
"I can show you just how naughty I am if you let me have a drink of that there brandy." Robert grinned. He attempted to touch her and Sarah pulled back again.
"Not so fast. How about we drink first and then…." She smiled wickedly even though inside she was trembling inside. "You can show me how naughty you are?"
Robert gave her a look over. Most women didn't drink and they didn't openly flirt with a man in such a manner. But as he looked over this girl, searching her bright eyes, glancing at her hourglass figure, he realized that wanted her more and more each second. "Sure, let's you and me have a drink and then how about a little roll in the leaves?"
Sarah giggled and moved away. Robert chased after her.
Jareth could hear Sarah's laughter, followed by that of the man. Jareth had never seen Sarah act in such a manner and he found it rather amusing. But his amusement quickly turned to worry. Jareth lost track of the sound of Sarah's voice and could only hear the talking, arguing, crying and other sounds of the camp. Time continued to pass and still he heard no sign of Sarah.
When the wait was too much for him, Jareth began to pull anxiously at the ropes that held him. He twisted and turned and, as time passed, his worry grew. Soon his wrists were red and raw from his movements, but he could hardly feel the pain. Where was Sarah? Was she all right? His concern for her well being should have surprised him, considering she was still his enemy, but he hardly acknowledged that it was unusual for him to feel concern. He continued to pull at the ropes, but he wasn't getting anywhere.
* * *
Sarah led the guard away from the camp. She was shaking as she did so and she was afraid that the man would notice. What if he didn't want to drink with her? What if he just decided to rape her right now? She had not even thought of that possibility before. She had acted without thinking.
"How about that drink, beautiful?" Robert reached for the bottle and Sarah almost sighed as he anxiously pulled it from her trembling hands. To her relief, he drained the bottle in moments. She figured that it would take a short while before the alcohol set in. She would need to distract him.
"What's your name?" She asked him.
He let out a huge belch. "Rrrobert."
Sarah giggled and pretended to be amused by his lack of manners.
"What's your name?"
Sarah realized instantly that giving out her real name would be a bad idea. "Mary," she told him.
"Mary," he repeated.
Sarah nodded.
"Mary what?"
Sarah glanced around, searching for something she could use for a suitable last name. "Oaks." She smiled. "Mary Oaks."
"Well, Mary Oaks, I've never seen you 'round before." Robert leaned against a tree and belched. His fingers trailed to Sarah's long hair and he toyed with the silky strands.
"I just moved to Concord a short while ago," Sarah told him. She pulled back slightly so that he could no longer touch her hair.
Robert didn't seem interested. He was looking at Sarah's full lips and was licking his own.
"So why were you guarding the British gentleman?" she asked quickly.
"Mary, please. Do you really care to know about the British man when I'm about to ravish you like you've never been ravished before?" There was a hungry look in his eyes.
"I'm curious about him." Sarah said biting her lip. "Tell me about him first and then you can ravish me. What did he do for the Colonel to want to hang him?"
Robert pulled back and gave her a curious glance. "How did you know that the Colonel ordered him to hang?" There was something different about this girl. She was very outgoing and she knew things that she shouldn't. But that realization didn't take away his desire for her.
Sarah shrugged nonchalantly. "It's been mentioned in camp."
"Well, you know the Colonel. He hates the Brits with a passion after what they did to him." Robert sat down on a log and fiddled with a stick, using it to peel bark off the dead tree.
"I'm afraid I don't know the Colonel very well. As I said, I just moved to Concord."
"Colonel Davis served as a soldier for the British army in the French and Indian war. Even wore the red coat. Anyway, it's been said that he and his troops got delayed in a storm and they didn't arrive in time to help another Colonel. Lots of men died and the British General blamed it on Davis. King George took his land away and his money as punishment. It took him years to make his way from a beggar to a so called gentleman again. He hates the British with a passion now. Wants 'em all dead and off our soil. It's rumored that he killed 12 of 'em himself in yesterday's little battle. I killed about 5 myself."
Sarah made a disgusted face. How could men brag about how many others they had killed? It was barbaric!
Robert gripped his head. "Think I drunk too much too quickly. But that's all right, I'm still sober enough for you, Matilda." He reached out and stroked Sarah's cheek.
"Mary." She told him.
"That's what I said." He leaned over and tried to kiss Sarah but she pulled away from him. Robert fell over. "Oh, come on now. Don't play hard to get." His words became more slurred and his movements were becoming delayed.
"As far as you're concerned, I'm impossible to get." Sarah told him and she turned to leave.
Robert lunged at her and tackled her to the ground. His quick movements startled Sarah and fear shot through her.
"We ain't finished yet, darling." He grinned wickedly and pinned his weight onto her. As Robert loomed over her, Sarah struggled, but he was much stronger than she was. Her eyes grew wide with fear. This was not how things were supposed to go.
* * *
Jareth pulled viciously at the ropes but it was useless. He had been struggling for several minutes now and the only thing that he had managed to do was make his wrists even more red and raw.
The flap of the tent suddenly flew open and Sarah came rushing through. She was shaking and there was a horrified look on her face. She was holding her hand and Jareth saw that there were small cuts on her palm. As soon as her eyes fell on Jareth her appearance changed and she suddenly looked to be in control of the situation. She approached Jareth without a word and, using a knife she had found just outside the tent, she cut him free. Jareth followed her out of the tent in silence.
Once outside the tent, Sarah started rummaging through the guards belongings. She wasn't interested in the musket as neither she nor Jareth knew how to handle it. But there were two bags, one leather and one canvas that caught her attention. "Carry this," she ordered and she threw the small leather bag with a strap at Jareth.
He put the bag over his shoulder and watched as Sarah reached for the plate of food that the woman had left for the guard. She dumped the plate into the canvas bag and then moved to a tent a few yards away.
"What are you doing? We should go," Jareth whispered to her.
"There's supplies in this other tent. If we're going to live out in the woods, we'll need more than just ourselves. Take what you can carry and hurry!" Sarah ordered. She tossed the door flap aside and she and Jareth entered.
Jareth didn't argue with her orders and he grabbed pots and pans, cloth, cups, bags of tea, silverware, candles, whatever he could get his hands on. The bags were filled in no time at all and Sarah started out of the tent. She made her way up the hill toward the woods, but stopped when Jareth called to her softly.
"Sarah, we can't possibly carry all of this on our own." He gestured to the bags they carried that were brimming and bursting at the seams. It wouldn't take long for the heavy bags to slow them down as they escaped.
"Well, what do you expect me to do? Steal a horse?" She whispered back angrily.
"That isn't such a bad idea." Jareth started back toward the camp to Sarah's horror.
"Jareth, there's no time for this! Someone is going to see us," she whispered fiercely, but Jareth continued to move away from her. Sarah gritted her teeth and continued on to the woods. She would have to wait for Jareth there and pray that he wouldn't be seen.
There were four horses tied to a post a short walk from the supply tent. Jareth moved to untie one of the horses but saw a group of men playing cards in a circle just nearby. He cursed softly in Goblin. If he took the horse, he might risk being seen. But if he and Sarah had a horse, they had a better chance of escaping with the supplies they had just stolen. Stolen…Jareth shook his head at the word. He couldn't believe that he had been reduced to a petty thief.
Jareth waited a short while, but the men did not leave. They were intent on playing cards, drinking and smoking. It was now or never. He only hoped that their interest remained with their game. Cautiously, he untied the horse and slowly led it away. Just as the horse's hindquarters had disappeared behind a tent, one of the men looked up.
"What's a matter? You hear somethin' George?" One man asked puffing his pipe and peering around to look at George's cards.
George scratched his head. Nothing looked to be out of the ordinary. "Must've been my imagination." He returned to the card game.
Sarah nearly cried out when she saw Jareth leading a brown horse up the hill toward the woods.
"Get on," Jareth ordered as soon as he was beside Sarah.
"What?" she asked.
"I said 'get on'."
"I don't know how to ride," she told him. "I've never even been on a horse before."
Jareth gave a smirk. "Well, I guess that today is your first day then, too." Before Sarah could even make sense of his words, Jareth picked her up and put her onto the horse. Sarah's eyes grew wide as she sat in the leather saddle and looked down at him.
"Jareth!" she cried out.
"Be quiet, before someone hears you. Take the bags and hold them."
'What? Why?" She took the bags and then got her answer as he attempted to leap into the saddle. His leap was much less than graceful and Jareth fell onto his back on the ground. Sarah giggled but stopped when she saw his face. He was furious. He tried to get on again, but it was no use. He was in too much pain. His wrists and his stomach were still very sore.
"Maybe if we can move the horse to a log you can use it as a step-up."
Jareth didn't bother acknowledging that it was a good idea. He led the horse to a tree stump and this time managed just barely to climb onto the horse, seating himself behind Sarah.
"Now what?" Sarah asked.
"I rode a horse this afternoon on the way to the camp. This can't be too difficult." Jareth looked at the horse. "Move, horse," He commanded. The horse shifted his weight and leaned to one side, making a stance as if it was bored. "Walk, horse," Jareth ordered. The horse stood still.
"Well, isn't this just lovely," Sarah replied sarcastically.
"Oh, and you're a great help. If you think you know everything, why don't you make the horse move?" Jareth snapped.
Sarah shrugged and then dug her heels into the horse's side. The bay moved directly into a trot and Jareth had to grab onto Sarah to keep from falling off.
"What did you do? I thought that you have never ridden before?" Jareth demanded.
"I have never ridden before, but that doesn't mean that I've never watched horse movies or read books about horses."
"Well, you best learn how to steer this thing or we're going to crash into a tree." Jareth ducked his head narrowly missing contact with a low tree branch.
Sarah picked up the reins and gently pulled back on them. The horse slowed to a walk. "Maybe we should just take this slow until I figure out how this thing works. I just got my license as it is. Although, I think a car is much easier to drive than a horse!" Sarah told him. The horse pulled at the bit and kept trying to walk to the right when Sarah wanted him to go left. "And cars don't have minds of their own!"
Jareth sighed, not understanding what she was talking about. He just held onto Sarah as she experimented and the horse moved into different gaits.
* * *
It was 3 hours later when Sarah suggested that they walk.
"The horse is tired. Look, he's all sweaty from us galloping him. My butt hurts from sitting in this saddle and I don't like you holding onto me. I want to walk and the horse needs a rest. We walk, end of discussion." Before Jareth could protest again that it would be wiser to ride, Sarah dismounted the horse. Her movements made Jareth lose his balance and he fell to the ground.
Sarah covered her mouth, barely being able to suppress a laugh at seeing the Goblin King sprawled on the ground in a less than comfortable position. Trying to remain in control, she started to lead the horse away.
"Oh, yes, so very funny that I've fallen off the horse," Jareth raged. He got to his feet and brushed the dirt from his breeches and jacket. "At least I'm not trekking around in my undergarments."
Sarah stopped leading the horse and turned to look at him. "What?"
Jareth gestured to the clothes that she was wearing. "You're wearing undergarments," he told her.
"This isn't undergarments, it's a dress. I snatched it from the camp so that I wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb. I couldn't waltz around in my jeans and a t-shirt so I slipped this on over them."
Jareth's anger faded and his eyes danced with laughter. "That is not a dress. I may not be from this world, but I know undergarments when I see them."
Sarah glanced down at herself and the more that she looked at the dress, with its lace and frills, the less it looked like a dress. Her face flushed bright red. She was wearing 18th century women's underwear over her clothes!
Jareth began to laugh out loud when he saw her blush.
Sarah's brows lowered over her eyes and she began to walk away, taking the horse with her. She wanted to stomp her feet and cry out, 'Why me?' Couldn't she do anything right?
Jareth's laughter eventually died down, but Sarah's embarrassment didn't leave her. Twice now she had made a complete fool of herself in front of him.
They walked for another 15 minutes or so and then Jareth suggested that they set up camp for the night. Because of the horse, they were much farther away from the colonist's camp than their own legs would have taken them, and a stream near a small clearing was an ideal place to stop.
Sarah started a fire and then she and Jareth began to dig through the bags. There were many things that they could use such as dried meat, sugar, salt, tea, beans, dried herbs, small pots and pans, cups, a knife, string and other odds and ends. There were other things like a smoking pipe that Jareth had snatched that were not needed.
Sarah washed the chicken and vegetables that she had stolen from Robert in the stream. Using one of the pans, she warmed it over the fire and she and Jareth ate their first real meal since they had arrived at this place.
Full and content for once, Sarah moved away from Jareth and the fire and found a spot to spend the night. She had hastily discarded the "dress" she had been wearing and curled up for the night in nothing but her t-shirt and jeans.
Jareth watched her curiously as she struggled to find a comfortable position to sleep in. He had teased her earlier and had not been able to help himself. But as he gazed over her form his thoughts took an interesting turn. Sarah seemed to sense his eyes on her and she turned to look at Jareth. Before he could stop himself, he asked the question that he was so curious to know the answer to.
"You could have left me at that camp, saved yourself, yet you didn't." His brows furrowed, his confusion showing. "Why is that?"
Sarah looked flustered by the question. "Don't question what happened. What's done is done, right? Just be grateful that I saved your sorry ass." She glanced away from him, letting her eyes settle on the flickering flames of the fire, the shadows they created on nearby trees, on anything other than him.
Jareth stood for a moment and watched her. Her arrogant tone almost brought out his own anger again. Almost. He licked his dry lips. "If you will not answer my question, at least tell me how you escaped from that man." He had seen the cuts on her hand. Some sort of struggle had taken place.
Sarah seemed surprised by the question. "I…" She started nervously. She closed her eyes to try and shake the memory of Robert's weight against her after he had taken her by surprise. She attempted to block the memory of his roaming hands, and of her own horrified cry at what she had done to him. When she opened her eyes to look at Jareth, her glance was cold and angry. She lifted her head defiantly. "I got him drunk and then when he tried to have his way with me I hit him over the head with a bottle and knocked him unconscious. Happy now?" She turned away from him and hugged herself. She shivered as the icy air attacked her.
Jareth watched her shiver, realizing that she was dressed only in a flimsy shirt. Her sweatshirt was missing. His eyes fell upon the cuts on her palm as she reached to rub her trembling arms. He didn't know what came over him but he moved toward her, stopping only a few feet from her. Sarah glanced up at him, brows drawn low over her eyes.
He swallowed and then spoke. "You're cold, let me-" he started and then realized that he had no magic. He couldn't help her. As a violent blast of cold air made him shiver, he realized that he couldn't even help himself.
Sarah moved away from him as if he were diseased or something, her expression one of disgust. "Leave...me...alone." She told him through gritted teeth.
Jareth watched her go back to ignoring him. Normally, his anger would have taken over, but the sight of her trembling form bothered him to no end. But there was nothing that he could do. He sighed, wondering why he had bothered to be concerned in the first place. Perhaps he felt as if he owed her for saving him for reasons not yet determined. He shook his head at the notion of owing her anything. She didn't want his help and he should just leave her be.
Jareth moved to stand on the outskirts of their makeshift camp, drawing his arms around himself and gazing out into the woods that was now bathed in moonlight. He looked out over the landscape for several moments attempting to clear his mind, but it was no use. No matter how hard he tried to ignore the girl, he couldn't do it. His thoughts always returned to her and soon his eyes returned to her form as well. He watched as she shivered uncontrollably. He had been cold sitting directly near the fire. He could only image what she felt.
The horse they has stolen snorted and Jareth's eyes upon the animal. It was still standing patiently at the tree they had tied it. Sarah had given the animal water and some grass and it was resting now. As he looked over the animal, he suddenly had an idea…
Sarah attempted to curl herself up even more to stay warm, but a small wind had picked up and no matter what position she lay in, she was still cold. She glanced around the camp and didn't see Jareth and at that point she didn't really care. She didn't need him. Why had she bothered saving him anyway? She had saved him and he had made fun of her. She cast a hateful glance at the undergarments on the other side of the camp.
The ground was very cold so she sat up, drawing her arms even tighter to her. Just then a heavy wool cloth fell upon her shoulders and she jumped. Glancing up, she saw Jareth standing beside her. She opened her mouth to start yelling at him for scaring her, when she noticed that he was walking away. Sarah watched him curiously.
Jareth sat down, leaning his back against a fallen log and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He closed his eyes and attempted to sleep. Sarah watched him for a few more moments and then noticed the weight of the wool cloth on her shoulders. She glanced down at it.
Her fingers trailed over the stiff material and she wondered where it had come from. They had not stolen any blankets, even though it would have been a good idea. Glancing around the camp, her eyes fell upon the horse. It was unsaddled now, which meant that… Sarah glanced down at the fabric. He had given her the horse blanket to keep warm. Despite herself, she clutched the heavy fabric and pulled the blanket around her.
She suddenly didn't feel so cold anymore. The heavy blanket kept her body heat in and kept the cold out. Sarah's brows drew together and she glanced at Jareth, who had lowered his chin to rest on his chest. His eyes were still closed and it looked as if he had forgotten that Sarah was even there.
Sarah's brows furrowed in confusion. Why had he given her the blanket? Why this sudden desire to be nice to her? It was so unlike what she knew of him. She realized that she wasn't going to receive any answers tonight. Lying down, she pulled the blanket around herself and drifted off to sleep.
* * *
A few miles away, in the colonial camp, James rushed to Colonel Davis' tent. "Colonel! Colonel!"
Davis grunted and threw the flap of his tent aside. "You'd better have a damn good excuse for interrupting me."
"Sir, we just found Green unconscious."
"So? Green's been known to go drinking on occasion. He probably just passed out."
"No, Colonel. He was hit over the head with the bottle. He's got cuts all over him. There's glass everywhere."
"I still fail to see the importance of this. Get him cleaned up and he'll be fine." The Colonel started back into his tent.
"But Green was the one who was guardin' the Brit."
The Colonel stopped and turned to look James straight in the eyes. "What are you saying, Adams?"
James swallowed. "The Brit somehow escaped and whoever helped him took out Green."
The Colonel cursed. "Gather some men. We're going hunting tonight."