**Again, thank you for all your great reviews! It motivates me to write more! I don't exactly know how many more chapters there will be, probably 5 at the most. I wish I had the time to go back and change a few things in previous chapters, considering I started this a year ago, but oh well. Maybe when its all over I'll write the first few chapters over again with better writing, lol. Well, enjoy this chapter and keep reviewing, even if you hate it! VOICE YOUR OPINION!***
Chapter 13 Encountering the Kin
The Carolina campaign was not over. Over 1,100 Tories were captured or killed during the Battle of King's Mountain. Word had reached that Greene had arrived, and he divided the American forces into small, fast moving contingents, and they refrained from open battle. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, yet still they waited in North Carolina for the British. Winter was upon them, as the leaves were whisked away by the harsh winds, and an unusual amount of snow befell the earth of the southern colony.
Kristina hated it. She despised this waiting game, this idly sitting by because neither side struck. A thought had struck her the moment she had heard from Gabriel that her father was dead. What was left now? Her reason for fighting was to, in a way, get back at her father, and in the end get her revenge. Now he was gone, she was exposed as a spy, and could do nothing to gain information from the British. For the first few weeks, she dealt with it by practicing her horrible hunting skills with a few of the militia, some who were huntsmen by trade. Gabriel had left to recruit more men as soon as they had left King's Mountain. She hadn't heard from him since. Finally, the month of January rolled in and she couldn't take it any longer. Her girls, however, seemed content to supply the company with food and water. She had even spotted Jane flirting with a few of the men.
Benjamin Martin took notice of her anxiousness, and called her into his tent. Upon carefully opening the cloth, she noticed him busily writing away with his quill, maps overflowing on his desk. She approached cautiously, so as not to disturb him. When he looked up, she bowed her back slightly.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
It took him a second to recall why he had even sent for her. A light went off in his head, and he nodded. "Yes. I've heard, from a few sources actually, that your restlessness is becoming most, shall we say, annoying to some. You take long rides and tire the horses, you never help gather wood for fires when asked, and you try everything in your power to dig up what our next moves are. Now, Miss Warwick, I must say, you and your girls can be removed from this company at once if your attitudes are not in the right state. Your contingency in this brigade is based on your helpfulness."
She choked in. "But Mr. Martin, the girls have nothing to do with my sulking! Don't blame them, really, I think they are vital to this cause!"
He held up a hand. "And I think so as well. But I must admit, you are becoming a nuisance around here. Eagerness can be a dreadful companion. So that's why I've assigned you a job that will take you some many miles and a few days to travel. I have a message to send." Her eyes lit up, as if this was the first sign of life in weeks.
"I'll do it!" she eagerly stated. He couldn't help but smile at her.
"You truly are something, Miss Warwick. I need you to pass along a note to my family, who are in hiding by the beach some 20 miles from the Santee, about a day's ride east of Charlestown. There may be British patrols along the way, so this task isn't a light one. You leave as soon as I'm done talking." He lit a stick of red wax and placed a seal on the parchment. It bore the letter M. She took it and looked back up upon his face.
"You miss them, don't you?"
He clasped his hands together and wielded them on his face. Sighing, he took them off and spoke almost in a trance. "Every minute of every day." A sadness overcame her. Here was a loving father separated from his six children, with the thought of their safety on his mind every passing moment. She had no family to worry about. But then again, no one worried for her, and an emptiness filled her heart, though she felt it in her stomach. His eyes no longer seemed on her. "Nathan will be fourteen by now, the age I told him I'd take him up north to Philadelphia. Meg has probably grown into a young woman." His eyes snatched up. "You look a bit like her. The same beautiful eyes." To this Kristina could not help but smile. "Susan. Susan, my God, she is most likely a foot taller by now." She noticed his hands slightly tremoring, his eyes a bit misty. He couldn't even finish talking. She spoke for him.
"Your family sounds divine. I will send your love, and I will bring back any messages they send." He didn't look at her, but simply nodded and sat back in his chair, his muscles tensing. Bowing her head, she exited the camp and immediately went among the tents to find Jane and tell her that she was leaving.
A half hour later, she was mounting her horse and heading southeast. The ride itself would take about two days, if the weather permitted. She looked up at the gray sky. The clouds had overlapped, and the wind had shifted. The last snowfall had occurred a week before, but it now seemed a new blanket of white would come. She kicked her horse forward, wanting to get as far away as she could before the first snowflake fell.
Sure enough, four hours into her ride small flakes glittered the ground, and soon they became bigger and more numerous. Snow was rare this far south, but an occasional winter spawned a few snowstorms. Kristina couldn't recall the last year she had seen it, it had to have been a few years.
Along her journey, her thoughts drifted to where Evan and Gabriel were at this moment. Evan was probably just north of Cowpens, since that was the last time a scout had seen Cornwallis' army, while Gabriel was near the Virginia North Carolina border. It was now 1781.
A new thought hit Kristina with such impact that she stopped her horse without realizing it. It was January 11th. In three days time she will be twenty, the age most girls settled down and built a family. Well, I'm already far from the norm. Better not start now.
Urging her horse forward, she trotted a few more miles before the snow got deeper, and the sky became darker. A fire was sparked, and she settled down in her sleeping bag, comforted by the thought that she was still able to perform some duties to the Continental Army, though in the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder if she was now more bothersome than helpful to the cause.
It took her longer than expected to reach her destination, due to the inclement weather. She was a bit disappointed that she didn't have to sneak around Tory and British patrols.
As she crossed a bridge to where the forest ended and the beach began, she saw the arrangement of tents and cabins built along the and. Runaway slaves were mostly present, and children ran to spread the word to their parents that a stranger approached. Guns were drawn, but the moment they saw her Continental jacket they lowered them. Dismounting her horse, she was embraced by the village with smiles and curious eyes. A young boy was running faster than the other children, his brown hair flowing against the breeze. Kristina smiled. This had to be Nathan. He stopped a few feet short of her, his jaw dropped. Soon the other six Martin children arrived.
"Are you a messenger from father?" The oldest girl asked, a bit bewildered.
Kristina opened up her pack and nodded. "Yes I am."
But you're a girl," Meg questioned, her head tilting a bit to the right in confusion.
Nathan immediately piped in, "And a pretty one at that." To this Kristina laughed. He certainly spoke out of turn like his older brother, she thought with a smirk.
She ignored Nathan's comment and looked at Meg. "Yes, I am. You don't honestly think we can win a war with a man's intelligence, do you?" To this a spark of life ignited in the children, and Meg laughed. Nathan crossed his arms. The other girl, Susan, held on to her older sister's hand and looked up at this strange girl with hostility.
Kristina got down on her knees to the child's level and held out her hand. "You must be Susan. Your father spoke of you. My name's Kristina." The girl, in turn, buried her face in her sister's back and spoke with a muffled voice.
"Why isn't daddy here?" Kristina sighed and slowly got up. The others looked to her, asking the same question mentally. Just then a woman approached. Her sapphire blue eyes and flowing blonde hair told of her sincerity and innocence. At once Susan thrust herself to her.
The woman looked just as confused as the children. "You're a Continental rider?" she asked. Kristina sighed. Was it that hard to believe a woman could help with the cause?
"Yes, I have a letter from Benjamin Martin to his family." At the sound of his name, the woman's eyes flickered, and her hand unconsciously tugged at the cloth by her heart. Kristina noticed it, but said nothing. Love was present, that was evident, but Kristina was not the kind of girl to pry into a friend's life.
It took a moment, but the woman eventually spoke. "Yes, well, you must be famished miss-"
"Warwick. Kristina Warwick."
The older woman smiled warmly. "Nice to meet you, Kristina Warwick. My name is Charlotte. This is Nathan, Samuel, Meg, Susan, and (insert name of that boy I don't know). Come, let's go inside and hear the news." On saying this, Kristina immediately noticed a change in Charlotte's voice when she said 'news'. Perhaps she thought something was wrong. Charlotte looked a bit nervous, but tried to cover it up to the children.
A middle aged black woman came and served everyone soup at the table. Kristina nodded a thanks and sipped it. Looking right, she noticed Susan staring at her with the utmost intensity and contempt. She couldn't blame the child, she missed her father. Kristina wished she could feel that way.
Once everyone was settled in Charlotte spoke. "What news of the war?"
Gulping down her last bit of chicken noodle, Kristina answered, "The British have suffered greatly these past few months. Did you hear of the battle of King's Mountain?" All eight pairs of eyes nodded. She continued. "It was your father's ingenious idea that saved the day." To this Nathan turned to Samuel and grinned. Even Charlotte couldn't suppress a smile. "I'm sure you want to hear news of your father and brother. When was the last time you saw them?"
Without thinking, as Charlotte refilled Susan's plate, she immediately answered. "One year, fourteen days and this afternoon." Kristina paused, amazed at this woman's love for a man. I hope one day I could feel so passionately, she observed.
Kristina now turned her eyes towards the children, who all portrayed smiles of delight at the mention of their father and brother, especially Susan.
"Your father is currently assembling various strategic moves for the Continentals. His militia has been honored highly for their victories against the British. Just recently I spoke with him, and he had enough confidence to say that this war will end within the year, though he knew not which side had the overall advantage." Charlotte bowed her head and closed her eyes for a minute, praying that this would all end soon.
"What about Gabriel?" Samuel asked hopefully, his eyes dancing with pride at his brother.
Kristina bit her tongue to say something jokingly. Her relationship with Gabriel was indeed a rocky one, full of low and high tides.
"Your brother is a brave man. He keeps your father sane. Gabriel has a lot of courage." She could say no more. The looks on their faces told of their love for their big brother, and it comforted her to know that possibly Gabriel wasn't such an ass with his family as he was sometimes with her. Charlotte raised an eyebrow at the young woman's answer, but said nothing of it. Instead, her lower lip trembled a bit as she spoke.
"What good news you bring. Times have been hard since we first heard about Anne and the murders along the Santee. We can now look to hope." Closing her eyes for a moment, she puckered her lips then stopped. Nathan decided to speak again.
"Miss Warwick, how is it that you are in the Continentals? They only allow men in there?"
"Nathan, perhaps our guest is tired of her long journey. I'm sure you can berate her with all your silly questions tomorrow after she has had some rest." He gave his aunt a look. Kristina could not help but laugh.
"I am in fact extremely tired. But yes, Nathan, I'll tell you anything you want to know in the morning." A look of satisfaction crossed the boy's face, and he raised his eyebrow to his aunt. Rising from the table, Kristina opened her pouch to reveal the letter from Mr. Martin. "I leave you with a letter from your father. I shall retire. Thank you for the meal, Abigail. Good night everyone."
The next morning dawned quicker than Kristina would have liked. She opened her eyes to stare into another's. She let out a quiet screech and then turned over. "Susan, you really shouldn't sneak up on sleeping people like that." Her voice was hoarse and scratchy, and it yearned for a drink. Shaking her head awake, she turned her body back around and discovered the girl was not there anymore.
She looked left and right, then plopped her head back on the pillow, or so she thought. "Ow!" she yelped, as her head viciously hit the backboard. Her pillow had fallen off. She growled and rubbed her now sore head. "Already I'm off to a great start."
Susan returned a few seconds later with a glass of water. This child surely is a strange one, sending me all sorts of mixed signals. She is definitely the most like Gabriel.
"Thank you," she croakily replied to her silent servant, who, on hearing Kristina speak, ran from the room. Kristina sighed and gulped down the refreshing water.
A half hour later she walked out onto the beach, buttoning up the uniform Benjamin had given her weeks before. The children were out playing and fishing. Charlotte approached her with a stricken look on her face.
"My dear, surely you would want some new clothes by now. Come back inside, you silly girl, and I'll see if you can fit into one of my dresses."
Dresses? She thought. Goodness its been a while since I've worn one. Not that I want to, but at least it will be better than a smelly uniform. With her thoughts confirmed, she followed Charlotte back into the cabin.
A few minutes later she wanted to bite back her words, but to no avail. Now I remember why I hated dresses. Damn corsets, she thought as she tried to breathe. Charlotte passed her the dress. Kristina gasped. It was a gorgeous sky blue color, with puffed sleeves and intricate lacing. It was cut low enough to reveal her rather large sized chest, but elegant enough so as not to make them plunge out like a prostitute. Trying it on, she tried to sigh. It fit perfectly. Charlotte panted with pride. "You look absolutely ravishing in it, Kristina." Kristina couldn't help but smile.
"It's been so long since I wore a nice outfit." She recalled the last time she had worn something so stylish, then shuttered at the thought. It was the night Gabriel was captured at her estate. The night her father shot at her. The night she was exposed. Her smile faded.
"What's wrong, my dear? You don't like it?"
Kristina turned around and gave the older woman a hug. "Thank you for making me remember that I am, in fact, still a girl. I fear these months with the men have turned me into quite the tomboy." The two girls laughed, and Kristina looked over herself in the mirror before changing back.
"Don't you want to wear it now?" Charlotte questioned.
"Good heavens no. I'll ruin it before noon, being the clumsy nitwit I am. No, I think I'll wear it to supper this evening. If that's alright?" Charlotte nodded. Changing back into her breeches, she exited the cabin once more, and all the children came to meet her.
"Miss Warwick! Will you tell us now?" Nathan eagerly asked. She nodded, and sat on the nearest barrel as the children sat on the sand, their eyes and ears all on her.
She knew not to tell them everything, only the bare minimum needed to make it interesting. Obviously they had little feedback from the outside world for months, so they yearned for a story.
"Myself and a few of my closest friends decided that we could help in the revolution against the British." Already Samuel cut in.
"But Miss Warwick, you have one of those accents. Aren't you British?"
Nathan rolled his eyes. "Don't be stupid Samuel. Many colonists have British accents. That doesn't mean she's a Torie."
Samuel grumbled, but spoke no more.
"Because I had only come from Britain a few years before, I was in the circle of some of the elite leaders of the British army."
Meg cut in. "So you were a spy for us?" Kristina smiled, and nodded. Samuel mouthed a quiet 'wow'.
"I helped gather information, and I gave it to your father, who gave it to the Continentals. One day I was exposed and I had to go into hiding with the militia. My girls and I were allowed to stay with the Continentals during the King's Mountain battle because we could help bandage the wounded and bring supplies to the soldiers. And here I am, a messenger for your father." For a moment, no one spoke.
"That's it?" Nathan asked, quite disappointed.
"Nathan!" Charlotte exclaimed.
Kristina herself realized how boring a story teller she was. "Yes well, I never said it was an exciting story."
Nathan continued. "Oh come on! Your just putting on a front because the girls are here. I bet you've killed and seen blood." A new thought crossed his head. "How exactly did you get the information from the British officers anyway? You'd have to be pretty close with them for them to reveal something so important to you."
"NATHAN!" Charlotte exclaimed again, this time with more authority. Kristina tried to hide her smirk. There was no getting around this boy. A bit pert, yes, but smart like his father.
"Charlotte, its quite alright. The boy is curious. And no wonder, they've been couped up all this time and I only give them a lousy story about my life? Hmm, let's see. Did you here of the time your father met General Cornwallis, and made him the laughingstock of his own men?" There eyes widened, and they shook their heads.
After she had finished three stories of their father's adventures, all of which she had heard from various men in the militia, she left with Meg to gather wood for the night ahead.
"You'll have to excuse Nathan, he's very outspoken, and most of the time out of line with his thoughts."
Kristina picked up a big log. "Most men are like that. If you don't mind my asking, how old are you, Meg?"
The girl blushed. "15 years."
Kristina raised her eyebrows. "A fine year to be. Do you have an interest in boys yet?"
Meg's face turned even redder. "I'm afraid there are no boys around to even think of having an interest in."
"Well how about when before all this even happened. Surely there was someone."
The girl paused, reveling her answer. "Well, there was one boy who I had a crush on. I used to play with Nathan's friend Patrick. He's my age. But that was before we even lost the house."
"Your lucky. I didn't start to have an interest in boys until I was sixteen. Sixteen! Can you believe it? I always had lots of friends who were boys, but I never thought anything of it. I do however, remember this one time, when I was fourteen, back in London, a boy tried to kiss me, and I punched him so hard he was unconscious for a day!" Megs eyes widened in horror and delight and she laughed outright.
"You did not! How mortifying!"
"I wish it were a myth but nay, it is true."
"Nathan and I believed a similar thing happened to our brother Thomas after he came home one day from Polly McGintis' house with a black eye. Father forbid him to go near the house again." Kristina thought for a moment, then realized she was talking about her dead brother. And you killed his murderer.
Meg didn't seem very upset by his name, and to that Kristina was relieved. I wish I could remember people without feeling depressed.
Meg changed the subject. "So who was your first love? Or have you had it yet?"
Kristina did not know how to answer this without getting upset. But she could not lie. It was like forgetting the past, forgetting his life. And that was something that should be remembered.
"His name was Ethan."
Hearing the past tense of the sentence, Meg stopped and did not ask anything further, to which Kristina was grateful. They collected a few more logs and headed back to the village, as the sun was just beginning to set over the water, its colors a vast array of orange and pink.
Beautiful, she thought.