Chapter 9 ***This is by far my favorite chapter. I don't know why, I guess its because a lot of things will be revealed, and its more emotional? Please review, I need to know what people think.*****
"Gabriel Martin, I'm gonna kill you!!!" The eleven year old girl screamed as she ran after the chuckling boy. Her brown curls bounced as she ran her heart out, not enough to catch the culprit. Gabriel bounded out of the town, past the tree and to the open field, looking back every couple of seconds to see if she pursued. He laughed whole heartedly against the breeze. She stopped by the huge tree that marked the town, and stamped her foot. She had politely been playing tea with the Martin boy against his will, and while she got the biscuits from the kitchen, he had put ink in her tea. It was a good joke, one he would relish telling his brothers. When his father found out, Benjamin had scolded his son fiercely with a spanking, something Gabriel was too old for and therefore thoroughly embarrassed by.
Even at the age of eleven, Anne was beautiful.
He awoke just as the sun was beginning to make its way up the sky. No one told the sun what to do. It came up when it wanted to. It was free.
"We're about a mile from the campsite. You ready to go?" Gabriel nodded, as he tried to sit up. Oh God, everything hurt. Hands grasped his, and an arm pulled gently on his back. He looked into her eyes, and saw a wall. While she was asleep, he had thought about what she said. He had been insensitive. He poked and prodded too far, and he didn't know when to keep his mouth shut. He was a Martin all right.
He mounted the horse, gritting his teeth. That broken rib would hurt for days on end. The ride took about fifteen minutes, they walked the horses. Pursuit by the British was unlikely, now that they were so close to the camp.
When they rode in, someone went to fetch Benjamin. He returned shortly, a look of both anger and relief spread across his face. As his son dismounted, he hugged him severely. A little too severe.
Gabriel groaned. Benjamin pulled away quickly. "You disobeyed my orders, corporal!" he yelled into his son's face. Gabriel just grinned.
"Sorry colonel. I guess I take after my father." Kristina smiled, watching the two Martin men. They were so alike.
Benjamin's eyes fell upon Kris. "Miss Warwick." He nodded. She nodded back.
"What happened?" He questioned Gabriel. Gabriel looked to the two women beside him.
"Well, uh, you see, I went to make sure Ms. Doyle here-"
"Doyle?"
"It's a long story. Anyways, I was caught, and she saved my life. Again." Mr. Martin, the man she had heard wondrous tales of, smiled. He stretched his arms and hugged her. She was quite taken aback at first. She wasn't expecting such a reaction from an army man. It felt good. Very good.
"I almost forgot!" She realized, pulling documents out of her corset while her cheeks shone a deep red. "I managed to get a few things before your son here wrecked the ball." She gave the pieces of parchment over to him, who eagerly received them. He read them silently, his eyes narrowing and widening every other line. Without a word, he went into the Lieutenant's tent.
Hmm, she thought inwardly. Must be important. I wish I had the chance to read them before I gave them away.
He came back out two minutes later. Kristina needed to talk with him. "Mr. Martin?" His eyes darted to the girl in front of him.
"What is to happen with me and my girls? The secret is out. We have no more usages as spies. I was wondering, sir, if perhaps we could-"
"No," father and son said together.
This was going to take careful answering. "Mr. Martin, what do YOU propose we do?" Her arms were folded over her chest, something his wife used to do long ago to feel superior. She always won those arguments.
"I cannot thank you and your girls enough for all that you have done. Perhaps we can find some sort of refuge for you all to hide in or-"
"Hide in? Mr. Martin, you of all people should realize that we will do nothing of the sort. Have you heard of the patriotic women like Molly Pitcher and Nancy Hart? They fight for this newborn country as well, and the men do not condemn them to sit at home and knit while battles are being fought on their doorsteps. If we stay here with everyone, we don't have to necessarily fight. We could raid supplies, bring water, fill the cannons, anything. We are spies, and will be hanged as such. I am not someone who will dig a hole and disappear in it while others fight in my stead. And neither will Jane, or any of my girls." Her voice never cracked, but both Martins seemed to think her funny, as they were trying to contain their guffaws.
"What is so amusing?" She shoved her hands on her hips.
Gabriel answered with a smile. "Ms. Doyle, I believe you could take down the whole British army if you wanted to single handedly. Her eyes narrowed. She hated being the center of ridicule. Oh well, she thought. At least they aren't saying no.
That night Kristina commanded Jane to gather all the girls and send them over to the camp. A battle was brewing, everyone could tell. The sun now left the sky earlier and earlier, it was early October. Kristina sat inside her tent, rebandaging her arm. It had stopped bleeding, but just to be safe, she had put more ointment on it to ward off infection. Benjamin sauntered in.
"Looks like a graze," he said, pointing. She nodded, rolling the cloth around her arm tightly. "How'd you get it?"
She knew this would happen. But, for some reason, it was easy to talk to this man. "My father shot me as we were riding away."
She did not look up, but from his silence she could tell he was deep in thought.
"Gabriel told me why you lied about your name." Gabriel has a big mouth, she annoyingly thought. "He never understood why you were helping in our cause. I think he's beginning to see."
She looked up. "Do you see, Mr. Martin?"
His blue eyes stared her down. "People fight because they lose something dear to their hearts. Even pacifists cannot avoid words like revenge and freedom. Their meanings are too great, as our their causes. I lost one son to this war, and everybody tells me to justify that by killing the enemy. I learned long ago that revenge causes nothing but more pain. The reason I fight now is so that my other children have a chance to live."
"I wish I could think like that. If revenge is a sin, then I will be a sinner when I take it. But right now, living without revenge is very hard."
Benjamin nodded his head. This girl has suffered greatly, and has no guidance to subdue her anger. He came towards her, and gave her a second hug that day, only this time he held on.
"When the time comes, and you are given the choice of revenge or life, choose carefully. Be the better man…er…woman."
Why did he have to be this way? She thought, irritated and thankful at the same time. He confuses me, he seems so right, but my head speaks otherwise. They broke free of their embrace, and, with a swift pat on the back, he exited. Why couldn't he be her father?
All of her girls arrived by midday the following day. Everyone except for a girl named Lizzy, a prostitute from England that had been with Kristina's band for a few months. She was one of the girls that barely ever listened to Kris, taking her seductions too far; sleeping with several officers at a time even. She enjoyed it. One night Lizzy had finished seducing a guard, and afterwards, as she picked through his pockets, he awoke and tried to catch her. She took his knife and tried to stab him, but he shot her before the blade went down.
When Kristina heard this, her stomach felt queasy. She did not have much affection for Lizzy, who many a time called Kristina foul names for not letting her have 'fun' with the boys. Kris wasn't even sure Lizzy cared about this revolution for independence. The girl was happy to steal from the British, and that was that.
Still, the fact that a girl Kristina was in charge of was dead did not settle right. None of the girls blamed her; they all tried to soothe her, repeatedly stating what a fool Lizzy was.
After that, her morals were always in question. She spent the rest of the day alone in the woods. Was taking advantage of men the right thing to do, even if it was only to get information? Before she had always thought it was okay. Religion spoke out against such conducts, but she was never into religion, being as how her father always stated how devote a Christian he was. She wished God was real. But if that were so, then why can bad people claim him as savior too? It was one of the many questions she wanted to ask a minister, but because of her duties to the revolution, she had no time to think for herself.
Word had spread that the battle was to begin the following day, October 7, 1780. Cornwallis and his men had occupied South Carolina for over two years now. Tomorrow was the day they would retreat, she could feel it. Her father and Kris had come from England four years ago, at the start of the revolution. Captain Doyle had been summoned to South Carolina to get the Tories on their side.
The girls were tense. Kristina told them that tomorrow they could help in any way possible. If they were scared of the fight, they could help with the wounded. If they knew how to load a cannon, they would be permitted to do so. Jane was the only one willing to use a gun. The rest did not know how.
Kristina herself decided that the best thing for her would be to carry a gun and go out with the rest of the militia. The Martins did not know this, of course. They would surely tie her to a tree or something. But somehow, she knew her father would be out their, and this might be her only chance.
It was well past midnight, but she still couldn't sleep. Footsteps were getting louder. She would have a visitor. Two eyes peeked through, and, seeing her awake, the rest of the body walked through quietly.
"Gabriel?" she questioned, even though she knew it was him. He took the liberty of sitting down next to her.
"Mind if I sit awhile?"
"Seems you've already done so," was her response. He smirked.
"My father wants me to stay here while the battle starts tomorrow." He waited for her reply.
"It is a wise choice, seeing as how you still limp and touch your side. You would be dead three seconds into a fight." He stared at her. "But you are a Martin, and I've learned that Martins do what they want to, not what is commanded of them."
"And you are one of the most stubborn girls I've met, and my guess is that you are not going to sit still while the men go off and fight tomorrow either." She said nothing.
"So we both like to disobey orders."
"And we both like to annoy the other," she said with a hint of a smile on her face.
"Is there any way I can convince you not to do something rash tomorrow?" he was half joking, half being serious.
She sighed. "You know the answer to that, Gabriel Martin. I have some business to take care of."
He shook his head. "If it is to get revenge on your father for hurting me, then I believe you to be wrong."
He was trying to get it out of her. He had let her inside his world, and he wanted her to do the same. For a moment she thought of Evan. Perhaps he was furious she was a traitor. Maybe he knew it all along, but said nothing because inside he supported her. She wanted to believe the second choice was true. HE did not make her life difficult. HE did not try to sneak inside her soul and extract what was aching there. HE took the pain away, because he was full of innocence. Gabriel was the exact opposite.
"Why must you prod me so?" she whispered, too afraid to hear what he said.
His passionate blue eyes flickered. "Because I think we are alike in one other way, and I think you are too afraid to open up with it because it will bring the memories back." He knew too much.
"Gabriel, please don't. Why do you care what I say?" She was being weak. She was giving in. Why did he have that ability?
"I have to believe that there is another that shares what I feel. I cannot go through this alone, and I don't think you can either. Let me in, Kristina. Let me in."
His voice was so soothing, so truthful. Before she could protest, her voice spoke all.
"I came here four years ago. My mother died on the way over, and it nearly killed my father. He was a harsh man, but her death made him pure evil. What he did to our slaves, our servants, and worst of all, prisoners of war…it was unbearable. Three years ago, I met a man." She could picture his curly blonde hair, dirty from the hours of work he spent farming the land. His playful green eyes always made her wonder. She had to let go. "His name was Ethan." It pained her to say it, she had not spoken it for what seemed like eternity. Memories were flooding back, too many to recall. "He was a hired farmer for my father's neighbor. He had no family, only himself to look after. We….we fell in love. Fath-Captain Doyle did not approve, of course. We snuck out to see each other on many occasions. All we had to do was see each other for a moment, and it would be enough to make us happy. He was also a spy for the Continentals. The man he worked for was also an officer in the British army. He stole anything he could get at. One day, he was caught. I begged my father to let him go, to save the man that I loved. He didn't look my in the eye. He locked me up in a closet and beat Ethan severely to tell him the whereabouts of certain rebels. I was finally able to break free, just as my father," she said that last part with such scorn, "drove his knife into Ethan's chest." She gulped. Gabriel was staring at the floor, his eyes misty. "I fell to his body, and he took my hand," She was speaking softly now, slower. "I held it. It was already so cold. His eyes still looked playful as he whispered how much he loved me." She closed her eyes, imagining the smile he had on when he died. He was happy to see me one last time. She continued on.
"Father dragged me up and threw me out of the room. I screamed and kicked the entire time. He had killed the only love I had ever known! In cold blood, he had murdered a man, right in front of my eyes. I cried for weeks, refusing to come out of my room. At times I attempted suicide, but was too chicken in the end. I thought of killing Father, but then where would I go? The only choice, it seemed, was to undermine Father from within. Help the cause for independence. But I swore I would get my revenge. And I plan to keep that vow." Her voice was sore when she finished. Her chest was blanketed in wetness from her eyes. Her hands were shaking. She no longer felt alive, but dead within.
Gabriel sat there for a few minutes, taking it all in. He had lost Anne. She had lost Ethan. Tyrants from Britain had killed them both. She truly knew what pain he had in the pit of his stomach. Oh, how he wished he could take back the time he said she wasn't fighting for a worthy cause. He had thought of her as fake. His chest hurt, and not from his ribs. Love had come at a price for them.
He didn't know how long they sat there, in silence. Finally he gathered enough courage to gently put one hand on her back. She, in turn, fell into his arms, weeping profusely. He now gripped her hard with both arms, rocking her back and forth. She felt safe in his strong arms, like nothing could hurt her.
It had been over a half hour. Eventually she had fallen asleep in his arms. He couldn't leave her, not now. She was so strong, so strong to endure so much pain. He hoped he could be of some comfort. But comfort cannot exist when pain is too great. Finally, his eyes dripped down, and he lay down on her bedroll, with his body closely knitted to hers. Soon their breathing flowed together, and peace was found.