"I'm sure this will be suitable . . . " Vivienne murmured as she, Tavington, and Susan stood before their new home. Tavington glanced at her skeptically.
"The fool who sold this to me will give back every last penny," he growled.
"Now it isn't all that bad, William. We can make do - we haven't the money for inns anymore." Vivienne put on a smile for Susan, but behind it she was devastated.
Before the small family was a fairly large country house that looked as if there had been several wars run through it. Judging from the style in which it was built, the house was very old. And they hadn't even seen the inside yet. Whether or not one could live in this fearsome structure was questionable.
Vivienne sighed lightly before going back to the cart to bring their things inside.
By the time Benjamin Martin had reached his destination, it was dusk. He was exhausted, his limbs drooping and his hair tangled and wild. But when he saw the rundown house at the top of the hill before him, fresh energy coursed through his veins. He walked faster, his eagerness intensifying, when a small figure came out the door and stopped cold upon seeing him. Martin squinted. It couldn't be . . .
But it was. His little Susan stood just outside the door of the house, staring intently right at him.
"Susan!" he called, his voice gruff from thirst. She spun around and flew right into the house again, leaving Martin reaching out pathetically for her. Suddenly, his anger came rushing back with a new fierceness. He began to run, slipping his tomahawk out of his belt as he did so. Martin promised himself a victory this time.
Vivienne was trying to put together a meal for the small family when Susan burst into the kitchen, panting.
"Daddy's coming." Her tone was hard and emotionless, but there was fear in her eyes.
"Is he - " Vivienne was interrupted by the sound of the front door crashing open, announcing an intruder. Her eyes grew wide and she acted quickly, grabbing Susan's arm and dashing out the back archway into the dining room.
"Stay here, and be quiet as a mouse!" Vivienne hissed as she shoved Susan under the table. Vivienne slipped out the door and froze as she became face to face with Martin. His eyes were cold and he gripped his tomahawk in his right hand, poised to kill her. Powered by fear, Vivienne screamed and ran the other way, her heart pounding along with the sound of his boots as he chased her. She dashed up the stairs and turned a corner, not knowing where she was going.
Vivienne was thankful for the darkness now as she ducked into the nearest room and frantically hid behind the moth-eaten curtains, steadying them as they swished about. Her chest heaved and she felt beads of sweat gathering on her forehead. She heard Martin's heavy boots on the creaking floor as he slowly entered the room. She knew from the silence that he was looking all around for possible hiding spots. Vivienne squeezed her eyes shut, willing him not to find her.
The sound of the boots edged closer to where she stood, praying for her life.
"You forgot about me, Daddy!" Came Susan's voice suddenly from the doorway. As the pattering of her feet went off down the hall, Martin gave chase, leaving Vivienne to escape.
I have to find William, she thought urgently. Suddenly, Susan's scream cut through the air. Vivienne dashed blindly toward the sound, coming around the corner and nearly crashing into the small girl, Martin close behind. Vivienne snatched Susan's hand and ran the other way, grateful for the multiple hallways and connecting rooms.
Like a flash, Vivienne, with Susan in tow, darted into one of the rooms. From a quick scan of the area, Vivienne could see there were several places to hide in this room. As she gasped for breath, looking around frantically for a place that could escape Martin's notice, a ragged sob burst from Susan. Vivienne bent quickly to clap her hand over the child's mouth, knowing how frightened she must be.
"SShhh, darling. Pretend we're all playing hide-and-seek. You, William, and I need to win the game." Vivienne whispered as she opened the door to a closet and stuffed Susan in, covering her with the dusty, tattered coats. Just as Vivienne was stepping away to look for another place to hide, a tomahawk whizzed past her head to thud into the wall before her.
With a squeak, Vivienne didn't even bother turning around before throwing open the doors to the connecting room to find Tavington with his pistol aimed at her forehead. Upon recognizing her, he put the pistol down immediately.
"Where is - "
He was cut off as the tomahawk thudded into his shoulder. Tavington cried out in pain, dropping his pistol involuntarily.
"Go!" He said through clenched teeth at Vivienne. She obeyed, dashing down the stairs to find help.
Martin came raging forward, fierce pleasure in his eyes as he had his enemy cornered at last. Martin grabbed Tavington's pistol from the floor and fired a shot into the Colonel's leg. A rush of victory coursed through Martin at Tavington's sharp intake of breath.
"Finish it, Martin." Tavington hissed, humiliated at this ridiculous defeat that would be the death of him at last.
"Not until you've suffered as I've suffered." Martin lunged forward to rip his tomahawk from Tavington's shoulder and shove the bleeding man to the ground. Martin snatched Tavington's hand in a crushing grip, pressing it to the floor. Lifting the tomahawk, the crazed man brought it down heavily just as the Colonel managed to summon enough strength to yank his hand backwards. Even still, the bite of the tomahawk devoured the Colonel's pinky finger. As Tavington collapsed to the floor, quivering with pain, Martin lifted his heavy boot and stomped down on Tavington's foot, feeling bones crack. This time, Tavington cried out, unable to hold it in any longer. Martin leaned down and gripped Tavington's cravat to pull the man closer to his face.
"Every bone in your body will be broken before you can die," Martin grunted. With one last attempt to protect his dignity, Tavington spat in Martin's face with a cold sneer.
"Then get to it, you coward," Tavington growled. Martin smashed his fist into Tavington's face, the force knocking him backwards. Martin drew back the tomahawk, preparing to go at it again, when Susan appeared, staring at them in her unsettling way.
"Take me home, Daddy. Take me home right now." Martin couldn't move. His attention diverted, Susan ran past, heading for the stairs.
"Susan . . . Susan!" Distracted, Martin raced after her, leaving Tavington writhing on the floor to choke on the blood flowing into his mouth.
As Martin came down the stairs, he could no longer see Susan, but he heard someone shouting. Vivienne stood outside the house, her hands cupped around her mouth, desperately yelling for help.
This vision enraged Martin. He strode outside and, before she saw him, grabbed her from behind with one arm around her waist and the other around her shoulders, his hand covering her mouth.
He dragged her inside, ignoring her whimpers of fear. He hated her. He wanted to hurt her and make her regret ever marrying Tavington. Deciding at once what to do with her, Martin shoved the young woman up against the wall and held her there with one hand, the other grasping the edge of her skirt. He pushed her skirts up to her hips and forced his knee between her legs so he could unbutton his breeches. As he fumbled with the button, Vivienne's hand slid down to her thigh and she grasped the first weapon her fingers felt - the knife. Drawing back just as Martin got his breeches down, she drove the knife up under his ribs with all the force she could muster, shoving him away as he crumbled to the floor.
Not even waiting to see if he was dead, Vivienne sprinted up the stairs to find her husband. As she turned the corner, her heart sank. Tavington lay still on the floor, bleeding profusely from multiple wounds. Vivienne hiked up her skirt as she came towards him, frantically ripping off pieces of fabric to wrap his wounds.
Please be alive, please be alive! she prayed as she wrapped the wounds, supporting his back and moving him to a sitting position.
He coughed, blood flecking Vivienne's bodice.
"Oh William, thank God you aren't dead!" She wept, pressing a bundle of fabric to his shoulder.
"Not quite," he said hoarsely. "Martin - ?"
"I killed him," she replied as she continued bandaging Tavington "Your gift saved me."
Tavington smiled in spite of his pain. "I knew it was a good investment." Suddenly he winced. "Call Susan here. I know how to care for these wounds, but you must act quickly."
Vivienne obeyed, and Susan came running in, going pale at the bloody figure on the floor.
"Susan, go and fetch clean cloths and the medicine case from the box in the kitchen. Hurry now!" Vivienne directed. When she was once again alone with her husband, Vivienne began to sob, clutching a fistful of Tavington's uniform in her hand.
"Vivienne, I'm going to survive, you needn't worry," Tavington insisted weakly.
"I know," she replied "I just cannot believe we're all alive. If he would have . . . " She broke off, not wanting to say the rest.
"Sssh," Tavington's thumb caressed her cheek gently. "Settle down and help me clean these wounds."
Susan slipped back into the room and together she and Vivienne worked to clean and dress Tavington's wounds. Vivienne couldn't hold back a smile as her hands shakily wrapped fresh cloth around Tavington's leg. She released a breath as she saw his face relax.
"You are going to heal just fine," Vivienne said softly as his eyelids fluttered closed.