Benjamin Martin and his men were gathered in a woodland clearing resting their horses. It was early morning but already the sunlight danced on the creek, the water cool and fresh to the tired hands and feet of the men. Birds chirped pleasantly in the trees - which stood tall and proud offering ample protection from the eyes of the enemy - and the shrubbery gleamed with lustre. All in all it was easy to forget that they were in a middle of a war for independence. Benjamin, however, could see that his son, who had taken up the position next to him on a large and jagged rock, was perplexed.
Nearby the men were discussing the intelligence that Burwell had gained. They already knew that Colonel Tavington had been wed, but more importantly they had now discovered that he had been given one weeks furlough in honour of his marriage. Benjamin personally thought it unwise of Lord Cornwallis to be so lenient with the Dragoon Colonel, particularly since the militia had had recent success in intercepting supply lines which it was up to Tavington to protect. But it was a stroke of luck for them. Privately Tavington was feared amongst many of the patriots with the same fervour that the 'Ghost' was amongst the Redcoats. It seemed to have lifted the morale of the men to know that he was out of action for the present. The time was rife for another strike. The voices of the men were filled with little heard gaiety as they speculated, somewhat coarsely, on the disposition of a woman who would allow herself to be made the wife of the Dragoon.
It seemed, however, that his son had other things on his mind. He was broaching for at least the fifth time that week the subject of the lady they had met with near the swamp.
'But father,' Gabriel said, 'the girl must have known where we were hiding. She was but two feet away when we discussed it.'
'Perhaps she is a patriot,' Benjamin said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
'Don't joke father. If she was a patriot then we should have taken her with us for it is certain that she fell in to the hands of the Dragoons.'
His meeting with the young lady weighed heavily on Gabriel's mind. As a precaution the men had vacated the hideout that Benjamin was certain the girl must have heard them discuss. They had left one of the younger men to watch over it yet it had been a week and still there had been no search. Gabriel, who had been quite taken by the young woman, now worried for her safety. It would have been easy for her to have turned them over to the British, and even easier for her to have given them a description which an impressionist could sketch onto the wanted posters which offered a great reward for the capture or death of the 'Ghost'; but so far none had come. He began to wonder if the young lady had in fact made her way back to her home at all, or whether the Dragoons had proved their brutal reputations.
'Son,' Benjamin said more seriously, sensing his son's distress, 'she spoke as smoothly as a princess and her nose was as disdainful as a queen. She is not a patriot, mark my words. There are few British ladies to have made the trip to the colonies; she must be the daughter of a Lord at least – there is no way that even a Dragoon would trifle with such a lady; honour is everything to the British.' Gabriel swung his head round to look with anger at his father.
'Is it honour, Sir, that spills the blood of innocents?'
'No - but neither is it Lords. They are happy enough to watch from the sidelines.' Benjamin was amused at his son's ardour; he wondered if there was more to his fears for the lady than simple charitable concern. Benjamin did not mean to defend the British and their intentions – it had not been honour that had killed Thomas - but he was satisfied that this lady, whoever she was, would not have been touched. After all it was the colonial women who suffered at the hands of the British army, not their own. He relayed as much to his son, watching him carefully for his reaction.
'She had no escort,' Gabriel said quietly, still not appeased.
'She had a fine horse – which, I am almost certain, came directly from the stables of Cornwallis himself. If I am right then she could have no greater protection than his.' Gabriel considered this for a few moments then felt a strange relief seep into his stomach.
'Perhaps you are right father,' he said at last. 'Still I cannot help wonder why then she did not give our camp away.' Benjamin's thick eyebrow raised high above his sky-blue eyes.
'Perhaps, my son, she was as taken with you as you appear to be with her.' Gabriel looked at his father with outrage.
'Indeed I am not!' he said, though as he did so he felt colour creep revealingly into his cheeks.
'No,' said his father more seriously, 'and nor should you be. She is a British lady, and you, my boy, are a colonial farm hand. I would not reveal your hankering to the men. They will think that you do not consider a good American lass fine enough for your lips.' They sat for a few moments in silence, Gabriel's hand tracing the cool water with his fingertips.
'Still, I would like to know that the lady got back safely.' Benjamin groaned. 'If she has kept quiet then we owe her our gratitude. Perhaps I could get closer to Cornwallis's manor and look at his horses …'
Benjamin decided his son needed a sharp shock to bring him to his senses. Gabriel was taken off guard as his father's strong hands suddenly propelled him from the rock and plunged him deep into the icy water with a splash, the mud-slime on the bottom coating his knees as the men about them roared with laughter. He emerged with a face as red as a British uniform – though the water was refreshing he had no desire to be dunked so unceremoniously in it!
'I thought you needed a little cool-down,' Benjamin said, laughing harder at the indignant look on his eldest son's face. Faced with such hilarity, and suddenly feeling foolish for even thinking that he could endanger himself so greatly simply to check on the safety of a British lady, Gabriel began to laugh.
Thanks to everyone for your reviews – I am really pleased that you liked it and appreciate you taking the time to review … I expect this chapter is a bit of an anti climax, but I have a plan to stick to (which includes more –er –'fun' between Tavington and Grace …)!
Akasha Vampire Queen: I can't believe that I spelt Gabriel wrong again! You'll have to excuse me I just can't get it in my head.
I read the book of the Patriot then other day and then wished I hadn't – I realise that I have used a lot of 'artistic licence' in the portrayal of some of my characters history! Still it's all relevant so hopefully you won't mind too much.
Have a lot of time on my hands at the moment (end of term) so expect an update soon …
