Rebecca had been asked to come into town, one of the wives was giving birth to her first baby and there were problems, the baby was breach. She had ridden into town wearing black breeches and boots and a mans full white shirt, over this she had thrown a long charcoal hooded cloak and grabbed a few things she might require.
As usual her arrival had caused a stir and many stares, she heard whispers of shock from men and women when she arrived astride a horse both riding and dressed like a man. But Rebecca wore what was practical for whatever she was doing; life for her was far more than fashion and pretty dresses.
On arrival she put on a smock and set to work, using herbs to ease the woman's pains, using her touch to soothe and to help the baby turn, the warmth of her hands gentle massaging to woman's stomach ease the mothers pain and manipulate the baby, coaxing the little one to turn. Once the little boy was safely delivered she washed, removed the smock and prepared to leave. Barely acknowledging the grateful thanks from families of the parents and child.
For her, thanks of delivering a new life safely were enough and she needed to be alone and give thanks for this to her goddess. The family gave her some money and the child's grateful grandfather was a tailor and he gave her a large bolt of black fabric, for this Rebecca was pleased, she knew she would be able to use this for many garments. She was arranging to have this dropped at her cottage when they arrived.
The whole town was in a panic at the sight of the English arriving, even more so when word spread that it was the Green Dragoons and the even more feared Colonel William Tavington. Whilst the townsfolk were rounded up Rebecca managed to stay out of sight, she sneaked from the back of one building to the back of the next, and then dashed to her horse.
But she had been seen …
Colonel Tavington was watching his men gather all of the townsfolk into the church so that he could address them when he saw a dark figure dash from the back of one of the buildings, he watched and saw the figure dash to the next building and then appearing from the other side. Turning his horse he saw as the figure leapt onto a black horse and rode quickly into the forest. Yelling at some of his men to follow him he spurred his horse and gave chase.
The mysterious rider was good, ducking beneath low branches, weaving between trees, never once slowing. They obviously knew this forest well. The rider never once looked back but Colonel Tavington knew they were aware he was giving chase. As the rider passed along the edge of the river he raised his gun and took aim, shouting once in warning to stop or he would shoot. The rider paid no heed and so Colonel Tavington took his shot, it was not his best shot but given the speed and distance it was enough, he caught the riders arm and the noise spooked their horse, which was obviously not used to the sounds of gunshots. As the horse reared it threw the rider and they hit the ground hard before rolling off the edge of the riverbank and rolling down into the shallow water and hitting their head on a rock knocking them unconscious.
Tavington rode closer cautiously half expecting the rider to leap to their feet and take a shot at him, but the figure laying face down in the water did not move. Tavington turned to his men 'bring him, and keep him alive, I want to question this spy!'
Tavington turned his horse around and started to ride away as his men climbed down the riverbank, but a yell from his men stopped him in his tracks 'Sir, it's not a man!'
Tavington twisted in his seat and replied 'what?'
'Sorry Sir, but it's not a man, Sir you shot a woman.'
He turned his horse and walked it back towards his men; they were just carrying a wet figure up the riverbank. All that he could see of her were men's clothes a huge hooded cloak, and a little bit of a pale face and rich chestnut coloured hair, on her head there was already a bruise and a large deep looking cut. He cursed under his breath 'is she alive?'
'Yes Sir' one of his officers replied.
As he got closer and they laid the unconscious figure onto the grass he could see that this woman was very attractive, she was very natural looking, no powder or makeup like the usual women he saw at parties, she looked so pale and fresh, and even without makeup she had full red pouting lips. He was mesmerised and felt that he knew this woman, and yet he knew he would have remembered her had he ever met her before.
'She is still a spy or she would not have run, we take her for questioning anyway.'
He was about to turn his horse when he saw the way his men looked at this woman and it annoyed him and he could not understand why. Turning back to his men he order them to bring her to him, she was lifted onto his horse where she was sat in front of him, her legs draped over his leg and her body leaning into his.
Riding back into the town Colonel Tavington soon became aware of the townsfolk and he kept hearing one word being whispered … 'witch.'
He glanced down at the unconscious figure lying in his arms and wondered, could this really be the woman so many feared?
Standing in front of the townsfolk on his horse he made an announcement 'Fire the house and barns. Let it be known that if you harbour the enemy you will lose your home.' He then asked if anyone knew the woman he had captured as a spy. None spoke up. He asked again and said 'I take it no one knows this woman? In which case what was she doing fleeing from their town?'
Eventually one man stepped forward. 'She does not live here Sir, she lives in the forest'
'In the forest you say?' Tavington looked sceptical.
'Sir, she is not one of the town, she is a … '
Tavington raised his eyebrow and glanced at the man 'Yes?'
'Sir, she's a witch, she came to town to deliver a baby.'
'Ah' replied Tavington 'and as gratitude you call her witch do you? In that case you will not mind if we take her for questioning then will you?'
He turned his horse to leave as his men started to burn the town. Despite the shouts and screams Colonel Tavington never looked back.