Charly paced the tent. For the second straight hour.

She had no clue what was going on. Since they had been brought to the militia camp, she had been taken off of the horse and to this tent where 2 guards were placed on the opening. Not even giving her a chance to check on Tavington, or even see where they'd taken him. And it scared her.

Finally she gave up and sat down on the edge of the cot, burying her face in her hands with her elbows on her knees. She heard a noise and looked up as the flap was thrown open and her father walked in. Charly jumped to her feet and growled as she stormed over to him. "What in the name of all that's holy do you think you're doing? I need to see if William's all right! But these...these buffoons." and a wave of her arms at the entranceway he had just come though,".won't let me out of here!"

Martin looked down at his daughter for a long moment and a sigh. "Charly...don't talk like that. It's not respectful...and it's for your own protection. I can't let you roam the camp. Someone may thi--"

"Everyone here knows me! What're you getting at? Why're you..." but the question would go unfinished as her mouth kept open and a look of unbelieving crossed over her face. "You...think I can't be...trusted?" And blue eyes narrowed.

Martin pinched his eyes together and turned to walk off to the other side of the tent. "Charly, it's not that easy. There are...others here that may think you were...well that you went to their side. Especially since we tried to help you escape and you refused."

She stayed where she was for a minute...her gaze shifting from him to the entrance flap and then back to him. "You can't be...serious! You think..." and her eyes narrowed as she slowly walked over to stand behind him. "You think...I'd compromise the safety of this camp...because I love him?"

Martin blinked and whirled on her. "Really, now, Charly! You're nothing but a trophy to him! He doesn't love you...he's using you as a way to get to us...he's a...NO, Charlotte Ryan Martin! You are not in love with that!" and he pointed in the direction of the way they had dragged Tavington off to.

Charly growled louder and snapped back. Ever hear of the immovable object and the irresistible force? You had a great example right here. Both were stubborn and hardheaded. If Tavington had seen this he wouldn't have questioned where she had inherited it from. "You...are insane...if you think I'm going to accept this. I didn't come back because I have nothing to come back to and he needs someone." And as her eyes brimmed with tears, a softer tone, but only for a bit. "He needs me."

Martin couldn't help it and he advanced the three steps on his oldest daughter and grabbed her upper arms, holding her close so she couldn't back up. "Charlotte, you have no clue what this man has done! He's earned the nickname The Butcher NOT by being nice to people! Don't you understand? He cares nothing for you at all!"

Charly wriggled and tried to break loose which she finally did and she indeed backed off a couple of steps. ": You're JUST as bad then! I've seen you! I've heard what you've done! YOU only justify it to fit 'the cause'!" A snort but she still glared at her father. "Everything you ever taught us...went right out the door. All that 'civility'...all that...'caring for your fellow man' ... it's all crap. Isn't it?" she had calmed down but now the tears were escaping. "You're no better than King George. At least he said what he was going to do and stuck with it. He didn't doubletalk anyone."

Martin drew a deep sigh and shook his head. "Charly...don't."

"Don't what? You don't even trust your own daughter any more. What's left for me? What do you plan on doing with me now...? Arresting me? Putting me in some camp jail? Shoot me?" But the tears would dry soon enough as another wave of rage swept over her.

"We just need to take care of the Colonel and then you're free again."

She stared into his eyes for the longest minutes. "Take care of...what do you mean by that?"

Martin watched her for a minute and then shook his head and turned away, heading to the tent flap again. "Just...stay in here and in a while, after it's done, I'll send someone to relieve the guards and you'll be free."

Charly dashed up to him, grabbed his arm to try and stop him, and felt her face flush. "After 'what's ' done? What in God's name are you going to DO to him? You have NO right to hurt him! Leave him the hell alone!"

Martin whirled and without thinking about it the back of his hand met her cheek with a crack. The silence that surrounded them was enough to smother both. A hand rose to the stinging flesh and she backed off a good three yards.

"You're even worse than he is..." she said softly, her eyes filling with tears again.

"Charly, I..." but no apology would come. And with a grumble, he turned and stormed out of the tent.

Charly sat down on the edge of the cot again and refused to let herself cry. She had to get to Tavington. And before dawn. Tonight she had to get him out of here.

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Captain Bordon paced the General's office waiting for the page to bring the commander. The Captain was uneasy and afraid for the life of his Colonel and he couldn't help but not show it as he went back and forth on the hearth, staring into the dying embers.

"Captain? What is it you would want from me at this hour of the night?" the general asked as he swept in, a silk dressing robe tied around him, acting as if he was sorely put out by the interruption.

Bordon coughed gently to clear his throat and handed the note he had found to the commander. "We...found this on a tree...held by the Colonel's sword, sir. I wish to take a larger platoon of Dragoons and soldiers and look for him."

Cornwallis looked over the note and then up at Bordon. "No."

Bordon blinked and looked from the note to Cornwallis and back up. "S-Sir...?"

A tired smirk crossed Cornwallis' face as he tossed the note into the fireplace where the embers caught it and a blaze flared as the parchment was burned to ash. "I said...no."

Bordon couldn't believe this. "B-But sir...the militia have him. We need to get him back."

Cornwallis waved a hand at the Captain as he headed back to the door to his private rooms the general held. "Consider him a...'casualty' of the war, Captain. I'll have his replacement in the morning for you."

And as he opened the door to his rooms, the general looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Captain and nodded. "Good night, Captain. Sleep well, hm?"