The Surf Between the Waves:
Chapter 5:
AN: I'm back! Yay! First off, thank you to those who have reviewed and I'm terribly sorry for the delay. But between being sick and Christmas shopping it has been difficult for me to find time to write. Now that I've found it here is the new chapter! Also Happy Turkey Day to everyone! And I should update again tomorrow with any luck!
Lying there on Ms. Selton's exquisitely made goose feathered comforter, listening to the constant pelting of the rain drops at the window the only thought that stuck out in my mind, surprisingly, was of Mr. Martin and his naïve son Gabriel. I didn't understand how Benjamin Martin could refrain from war in a time such as this. The British would shatter our world and yet he would not vote for the levy to pass. But Gabriel, the naïve man who, actually might not be as naïve as he puts on, ran off to fight for a country in which hasn't even been established yet. He believes in this spirit, this ghost of a colony and he is the type of person who will win it for us. But I, I am here in a ditch the size of a large estate with no rope to pull me out. I have no crutches to lean on and so I am falling, in fact I think I have already fallen and there is no place for me to run, no space for me to live. I will die here, of that I am sure.
The rain pounded against the window as if it desperately was seeking me out. I rolled onto my side facing a snowy white vase with a few roses hanging over its rim. They were so beautiful, so breathtaking that all I could do was stare; I knew then that there was still good and righteousness in the world it just needed to be sought out. Shortly after which I fell into a dreamless slumber forgetting all the trouble that had surrounded that day.
When I finally became conscious I realized by the grumbling in my stomach that I had not yet ate anything. I glanced over my attire becoming somewhat sickened at the thought of what had happened and what Nancy was put through. She had killed a man bluntly and boldly, and now she is forced to live with that for everyday that she draws in breath. I too have to live with my sins, the fact that I kill-. " NO! I will not think about this, I did what I must and nothing more," I took a deep breath, removing the memories from my thoughts. "Now, to find something a little more tasteful to wear. Ms. Selton must have left something behind, even if I hadn't."
I threw open the doors to the bureau staring down the few gowns that were left behind, they were not the most fancy Ms. Selton had owned but they would be perfectly good for me. I reached in pulling out an oceanic blue dress with ruffles of fabric that rolled down the length of the gown like waves crashing over one another. Taking one last glance over the other four, I decided that this was the less elegant and the perfect one for me. After gently shutting the chamber doors and drawing in the curtains I lit a small white candlestick so that I had just enough light to change and to see where my feet were taking my body.
I carefully waltzed over to the full size mirror hung on the wall, examining my appearance. The white lace that bordered around my neck and upper chest caused my skin to be slightly irritated, but overall the dress reflected my olive skin tone and in a sense I felt well- to- do. It wasn't me though; the woman in the mirror was the reflection of pure chastity and elegance. I could not compete with the image and thus I would not try.
I quickly raced out of the room, afraid that if I stood in that woman's reflection any longer that I would become her. I took off down the hallway and finally stopped when I reached the doors to the balcony, and beyond it's stairs that led down to the kitchen. My eyes teared up as the morning sun shone on the damage done by common raiders who would feed off of any scrap that they could. How could this be the place in which I once served a royal mistress, and paced through a garden whose magnificence knew no bounds? I suppose the answer was rather simple, it wasn't.
My heeled feet took me through the empty streets of town meandering my body all the way to the supposedly abandoned market place. I wrapped Ms. Selton's nightingale cape tighter around me to ward off pending cold. As I came within sight of the market place I noticed something of which I had rather hoped never to set my sights on again. The monstrous Colonel Tavington was perched on the back of his marvelous mare, barking orders to foot soldiers and a few of the Green Dragoons.
I kept my distance pleading with myself that I would not be noticed as I picked a few apples from a cart. I tossed the slightly bruised fruit into my potato sack bag moving on to the next cart, doing my best to derive my wondering eyes from the British officer who so willingly insulted my humanity the day prior. As the memory slipped into my mind with ease I began to feel the pressure on my neck where the blade had been placed. Sweat rolled down the length of my forehead, bearing my fear.
There were chickens running amuck on the streets and around the carts, I tried to keep my thoughts on them. But that was short lived. My eyes had lifted slightly, high enough to see hooves approaching me. Almost instantly the chickens began flapping and screaming due to the surprise of movement and I jumped, startled of what may become of me. He was prestigious and arrogant but it was not the infuriating Colonel, only his captain.
"Miss?" He spoke as if he was questioning my gender. In nervousness I began playing with the sack in my hand. The captain's eyes moved from me to the full bag and back to me. "Surely, you intend on paying for his majesties food and any taxes that may become accompanied with it."
I fumbled with my words dreadfully trying to come up with a good explanation. Well originally I was planning on stealing it, but now that you've arrived and suggested for me to pay full tax for these few items, why I think I'd even pay double! No, that would never work. I dropped the sack behind me and smiled innocently, "what bag?" Oh, because that was so much better, now he'll let me go for sure.
"Colonel," he called to the officer no ten feet from him. Shit! If there was ever a time to run, now would be that time. I kicked off my shoes and lifted my skirts slightly before taking off down the damp street running with all the strength I had left. "What do you believe would be the proper punishment for a woman intent on stealing? A day in the stocks, perhaps?"
The colonel shifted his icy glare before speaking, "who is the woman in question?"
"What? Well she's right he-. She's gone!" The Captain snorted in shock, his eyes wide with disbelief and his mouth agape.
The Colonel wasn't dumbfounded though, he saw me race into the alleyway and soon began his pursuit of me.
As I turned the corner into the alleyway I chanced a glance back and what I saw pushed me forward, he was there, riding hard toward me. My hood flew back as I sped off once more dodging through miscellaneous debris. At the end of the alley was an iron gate I had not anticipated, but nonetheless I kept my pace, as did he. When I came to the gate I started to shake it and shout for help before I resulted to climbing, which was extremely difficult given the gown.
"Help, someone please help!" I had no idea why I was truly screaming, the town had been taken over by the British and there was no way they would feel the compassion to save me.
"Woman you are truly trying my patience!" He had turned the mare sideways in the alley and began tugging at my waist to pull me down. The iron gate had grooves and spikes at the top which caught the palm of my hand, I had lost my grip due to the blood and ended up falling backwards onto the horse and into the Colonel's lap. I faced him screaming and shaking from the shock of the event as he tried to keep a hold of me so that neither him nor I fell of the horse.
"ENOUGH!" He shouted in my tear wretched face, his hands tightly gripped around my wrists. The blood from my left hand dripped down and stained his own flesh with its crimson touch. My hair had fallen and laid scattered across my shoulders and back in a wreck. I was exhausted and in pain, I could not fight any longer so I dropped my hands, his still held tight to them.
"Let go of me," I demanded halfheartedly.
His eyes were still fixed on mine in a state that I was not familiar with. Was it hatred or rage or even a slight bit of compassion? He didn't give me the chance to think on it. "You were told that if you did one thing wrong that I had the permission to kill you." The Colonel's voice was deep and filled to the brim with restrained anger.
The rain started in again, and not a light downpour at that. "I have to eat and those filthy scavenging soldiers took any cent that was in the household along with valuables and food." I took in a breath holding back my own anger and the urge to punch this insolent man. "I will starve if I do not find a way to get food!"
"That does not give you a reason to steal from his majesty." He retorted haughtily.
"And I ask you, what else was there left for me to do?" My voice spoke but my mind was wondering over other things.
"If you die of starvation that will be one less nuisance for me to deal with." I nearly choked over those words, they were almost the exact words my father had spoke to me on the day that he sold me into 'slavery'.
"You insufferable Bastard! You are a pig who knows less about life and the world than a two-year-old child! You think that you are so much better than everyone else because you have a title and your brutality but in all actuality you are a scared little boy running from God-knows-what!" His response was not what I expected it to be.
Within an instant his lips were feverishly on mine forcing himself on me. The feeling made my skin crawl and my stomach churn. He snaked his arms around my waist pulling me to him, I shoved his face from mine and cried in pain. I would not suffer for him. "Get off! Get off!" I beat my fists against his chest.
"What? This isn't what you wanted? Men all over you, loving you, what difference does it make to you if what they feel is real as long as you feel them?" The colonel burned his lips into the flesh of my neck, now even the horse was becoming irritated.
"You son of a bitch," I screamed in his ear; as fast as he was on me he was off, and this time the back of his hand flew into my face. I toppled to the ground, my bloodied palm making contact with the soiled ground. I felt my lip and wiped the stream of blood onto the back of my hand.
"You are nothing but a whore, and a whore you shall remain." He scolded losing focus in his own words.
"I am not a whore!" My voice screeched out. My head started to become dizzy and my eyes were blurring, perhaps from my fall or maybe just the pain. I collapsed in a heap of my gown's fabric without a single hope.
"You brought her here? Are you truly insane Tavington?" General O'Hara reproached him. Tavington began pacing the length of the tent his eyes avoiding the young woman lying on his cot.
"She was beaten," he paused, "and I thought it would be best for her to serve in the Lord General's palace where she would be safe from harm." His arrogant gaze now fell on General O'Hara.
"And away from you." O'Hara went back to examining the woman. "Tell me Colonel Tavington did you have anything to do with this woman's poor welfare?"
"What are you suggesting General?" Tavington took a few steps closer to the cot.
"Well it just seems to me that you became a little too carried away with her, as you did in the brig last night. A sword at her neck, Colonel really? Is she honestly that aggressive?"
"Damn you O'Hara. If you even think to bring it up with-."
"Not this time I won't, but do it again and it may very well be your life on the line next time." O'Hara strode to the opening of the tent, "I will put the idea passed Lord Cornwallis but I make no promises. And Colonel, try to remember that she is a woman not the enemy." With that stated he left closing the tent flap behind him.
Tavington removed his coat and sat down on a stool next to the cot watching the young woman sleep peacefully under the bundle of warm blankets. Why am I doing this? She has no right to live; she killed two of his majesty's soldiers. And yet she has a great will to live during this war. Why? What is so great about this life that causes her to feel so strongly about it? Why do I care why she lives?
AN: ah Ha! So at the end there you get to see somewhat of the troubled man that Tavington is. I hoped you enjoyed it, perhaps you'll review and then I'll know if you enjoyed it (hint hint). Thanks to all of those who have reviewed! Ta!