Thanks, as always, for reading and reviewing. I'm finally sticking my neck out and attempting to incorporate an actual scene from the movie. :) So without further ado, here goes.

Chapter 13

The procession started out slowly, the wagons creaking with their loads. A number of foot soldiers marched out first, and the dragoons came up last. As soon as we got on the road, Tavington ordered the dragoons to hang back.

"We'll play by the same rules as the rebels. Let the wagons go on ahead. We'll go off the main road whenever we can, hopefully staying hidden from the Ghost." The last word slid from his lips like venomous oil, and accompanied a smirk full of disdain. I sighed. My job was not going to be easy.

Tavington divided the men into two groups, and sent one group to the right of the wagons, and led the rest on the left. I sat my horse in the middle of the two groups, waiting for him to tell me where to go.

"You." He pointed at me. "Come with me. I don't want to take any chances, and have you running off to warn your friends."

I smiled, and rode up next to him. "Is that really wise, Colonel? If I'm with you, I can more easily point you out when the Ghost shows up."

"He has a nasty habit of shooting officers first. Not a very gentlemanly way to fight." He turned to look at me, his lips puckered into a snarl. "Your presence will not make a difference to my safety." He paused, and a smile pulled up one half of his mouth. "But my presence with you will make a difference in how you act. I'm sure you are anxious for a chance to get away from me."

"Is that why you wouldn't let me stay back at the fort?"

"Of course. If I let you stay back there, you'd find some way of weaseling your way out. You'd give Cornwallis and O'Hara some ridiculous sob story like the one you tried on me, and those two inept fools would believe you."

"Shame, shame. Speaking in so degrading a manner about your superiors."

"Cornwallis may be a genius and a gentleman when it comes to war, but he's absolutely...how'd you put it the other day? Clueless? When it comes to women."

I laughed. "You'd catch on well in the 21st century, Colonel. See how you're picking up the lingo just from hanging with me?"

He shook his head, probably not having understood most of what I'd just said, then galloped to the front of the line.

I'm not sure how long we traveled, but it was a tedious journey of stops and starts. The wagons rolled along at a slow pace, and the foot soldiers seemed to slow the progress even more. We would hang back, then ride, then hang back again.

Some time after noon, a rider in plain clothes rode up to Tavington. We halted, and the two men spoke. I could not hear what they were saying, but Tavington's face brightened, though he didn't actually smile. He spoke for a few seconds, then the rider nodded, saluted, and rode off at a gallop.

Tavingtonturned back to us. "Looks as if we might catch this Ghost today after all." He smirked as his gaze rested on me, then faced his horse around again, and kicked it into a hard gallop. The other dragoons followed suite.

My heart hammered in my ears, almost drowning out the pounding of hooves on dirt. Tavington stopped us at the foot of a hill, then rode up to the top. He made quite an imposing figure, sitting tall in his saddle. The only thing taller, but not necessarily straighter was a single, thin tree beside him. I watched as he pulled out a long spyglass. Except for raising the object to his eye over and over, he did not budge. Suddenly, he sat up straighter, if that could be possible, and whipped the spyglass away. I could hear voices over the hill. A pause.Gun shots. The other dragoons all rushed past me, up the hill toward Tavington. When I moved to do the same, the dragoon ordered to stay with me held me back.

"Not now, Miss Hanson."

I stared at the line of dragoons. They waited but a second, then charged down the hill.

I turned to my escort. "Please, I must see what is happening. Can't we just stay at the top of the hill?"

He hesitated. "I have been ordered to shoot you if you try to escape, or help the rebels. I don't want to have to do that. And if danger comes our way, you are to do exactly what I tell you. Colonel Tavington's orders. You are not to escape, nor to be harmed.

"I understand."

Without further hesitation, he nodded, and urged his horse forward. I followed close behind, stopping at the top of the hill. The scene that played out before me is forever fixed in my mind.

So much was happening at once. The two wagons, now bare of their canvases, stood empty. It was hard to see clearly for the clouds billowing up from the muskets. A number of British soldiers lay on the road, wounded or dead. Several colonials also lay motionless, but most of them had mounted horses and were trying to escape.

I wanted to turn away, to shield my eyes from the carnage, but I could not. The dragoons looked magnificent as they charged. If only the men they were fighting were my enemies! I cringed with each man, British or American, that fell.

Where was Tavington? My insides gelled as I searched for him. Please, oh please, God, don't let anything happen to him.

A band of rebels rumbled across a small, stone bridge, only to be ambushed by more Regulars hidden in the tall grass on the adjacent hill. I gasped. Where did all those men come from? That's when I saw Tavington. He rode at the head of the dragoons, hot on the tail of a second group of colonials, headed for thestone bridge. The colonials stopped suddenly. They were trapped! I held my breath. They had to get away. I did not wish to see them killed, yet I did not wish to see them turn and fire on the dragoons. How could I be so torn?

The colonials suddenly dashed across the bridge, and veered to the side, escaping through the stream that flowed beneath the bridge. Tavington was all right, and I breathed a sigh of relief. But the first group of colonials were now surrounded by the regulars, hands and weapons in the air.

Would they be killed? Shot on the spot? Such brutality was how Tavington had initially gotten his reputation.

I kicked my horse into a gallop. I could not stand by and just watch.

Tavington turned away from thebridge, and galloped toward the group of captured men.

"Don't kill them," I yelled as I rode up to the colonel. "Take them as prisoners, but don't kill them."

He turned to me, eyes slanted, nostrils flaring. "What did I tell you, Miss Hanson? You are not to join the battle."

"The battle is over. You've whipped them good. But don't shoot these men. It wouldn't be right."

Although the angry flash did not dissipate from his eyes, an arrogant grin spread across his lips. "Of course we're not going to shoot them. They will be transported safely back to Fort Carolina...to be hanged as traitors." With a scowl aimed in my direction, he kicked his horse and galloped off.

The smoke died down, and only then did I see the full result of the quick battle. I had barely managed a dismount when the contents of my stomach came spewing out. My body continued to retch, and I thought my very stomach would come up my throat.

"Easy. You'll be all right." I heard the voice through an irritating ringing in my ears, but the note of concern was unmistakable. My vision clouded, though not like when I'd passed out. A large, gentle hand rested on my shoulder, then pulled me back when I began to topple forward. "The first time you've seen real combat, huh?"

I looked up...way up, into a face at the top of a much taller man than Tavington. Wilkins. I smiled, hoping to cover my disappointment, and allowed him to help me back to my horse. As I mounted, I glanced about for Tavington. He waited at the head of the remaining dragoons, glaring disdain and impatience at me.

A desire to cry overwhelmed me, but I knew I had to contain it. I could not show that kind of weakness. Not now.

Ok...so how'd I do? Be honest y'all! Have a great day. :)