A/N: This chapter contains material from the Patriot movie. I own none of it.
It was a clear fall morning. Tavington and the Dragoons had been given orders to retrieve injured men from a Colonial farm. There had been a battle the night before and both sides had suffered losses from it.
Riding up with his men behind a troop of Regulars, Tavington surveyed the sight and raised his hand in command. There was a beautiful Colonial house with a farm nearby; on the front porch of the house were injured from both the British and Colonial armies. Taking care of them was a man about ten years older than William, his white shirt covered in blood. There were also children on the premises. The colonel burned with anger as he surveyed the injured Colonials atop his snorting stallion. His decision was quick as he turned to one of the British soldiers and said, "Lieutenant, have the attachment take our wounded to our surgeons at Winsboro…"
Then, he looked to the man who was caring for the soldiers and commanded, "Fire the house and barns! Let it be known if you harbor the enemy, you will lose your home."
He turned to a group of colored people and addressed them, "By standing orders of His Majesty, King George, all slaves of the American Colonies who fight for the Crown will be granted their freedom with our victory."
One of the men stepped forward and said," Sir, we're not slaves. We work this land… freed men- "
"Well then you're freed men who will have the opportunity and the privilege of fighting in the King's army, aren't you?" Tavington snapped, cutting him off.
"Rebel dispatches, Sir." a soldier spoke, stepping up to the colonel and handing him a collection of letters.
Tavington took the letters from him and glanced down at them.
"Who carried this," he drawled. When there was no answer, he lost patience and yelled, "WHO CARRIED THIS?"
Another young man with the one caring for the wounded stepped forward timidly and said, "I did, Sir. I was wounded, these people gave me care; they have nothing to do with the dispatches."
Again, Tavington made his decision swiftly.
"Take this one to Camden; he's a spy. Hang him, put his body on display."
The other man stepped forward and tried to reason with the colonel.
"He's a dispatch rider and that's a marked case."
"Destroy the livestock; save the horses for the Dragoons." Tavington ordered, giving Asmodeus a subtle pat on the neck.
The man tried again to reason with him.
"Colonel, this is a uniformed dispatch rider carrying a marked case. He cannot be held as a spy."
"We we're not going to hold him. We're going to hang him." Tavington replied smartly.
"Colonel…" the man pled.
"Father." murmured the dispatch rider under his breath.
William made the connection at once and his smirk broadened.
"Oh I see. He's your son. Well perhaps you should have taught him something of loyalty…"
"Colonel I beg you, please, reconsider. By the rules of war-"
"Rules of war, would you like a lesson, sir, in the rules of war," Tavington scoffed, pointing his pistol at the man. "Or perhaps your children would," He changed his direction of aim to the man's children, who stood fearfully on the porch.
"No lesson is necessary!" the man choked, hurrying to his children.
"Sir, what of the Rebel wounded," The lieutenant asked.
"Kill them," Tavington replied in a soft, low tone.
The lieutenant was at a loss for words, but Tavington was too powerful to disagree with, so he marched his men up to the wounded Colonial soldiers and ordered them to be shot as another group of soldiers marched away with dispatch rider.
Just as William was about to look away, one of the man's sons, a young boy no older than fifteen, burst from the front porch, ramming one of the soldiers holding the dispatch rider.
"Gabriel run!" he cried.
Without hesitation, Tavington took aim at the boy.
"WAIT!" his father screamed, rushing toward him.
Tavington fired, hitting the boy in the back. He fell and his father caught him in his arms. William watched as the man held the dying boy. His face was tight and his azure eyes held no emotion. The man looked up at him in shock and disbelief.
"Stupid boy," Tavington murmured in a hiss so that only the man could hear him. Then, he turned his attention elsewhere.
"Captain," he gave the orders to leave the plantation, giving it one last look as the British soldiers burned it to the ground.