Chapter 13: mountains of challenge

I don't know why, but I had the worst writer's block with this chapter. I even debated skipping the episode all together, but since it sets up a few things that become important later on, I've decided to do it.

Many of you are wondering when Sarah and James first kiss will be. Well, I'm pleased to tell you that it will be coming soon. Maybe. At least within the next ten chapters.

I really don't own liberty's kids. Quit asking, you're being creepy.

May 1775

Sarah pov

Sarah stared at the world whooshing around her as James urged the horses forward. It seemed as though every week they were off racing about. This time, they were currently in the New York green mountains. She and James had just returned from the brick of utter exhaustion when dr. franklin sent them on their way again. In the spirit of honesty, deep down Sarah secretly relished traveling about in the tiny covered wagon, especially on late nights like these. Although she did not want to relive the midnight ride incident, Sarah reveled in the fleeting views of stars that otherwise would have been wholly unmasked.

She and James had worked out a system early on. The group would set up camp around the hour of three in the morning, and rise at eleven. They would spend an hour preparing for the day, eat a quick lunch, and then travel on through the night, stopping only for a hasty picnic dinner. This schedule satisfied both Sarah's love of the night and James' animosity for waking up early. Henri was content either way, considering that he rode in the back and slept and ate as he pleased.

Just ahead, two sinister figures stepped out into the darkness. Sarah lifted her head from James' shoulder (where she had rested it faithfully every night for her midnight musings), and James tightened his arm around her waist (which was also positioned loyally each night).

"Bandits" James murmured into her ear. "Stay quiet and let me do the talking." Sarah watched as the hand that was free from her waist rest on the butt of a pistol. Reaching his thumb out, he cocked the lever until it made an ominous "click". In an effort to aid him, Sarah straightened herself, and took the reins. Slowly but surely they neared the two men.

"Oi! Who goes there? Some more snot-nosed Tories come to steal-I mean settle our land?" the larger of the two men demanded. The light from the moon gleamed wickedly off his musket's long barrel. A quick inspection revealed that his companion, although looking slightly more dimwitted, also seemed to know how to work a musket. The dim one kept his musket fixed on Sarah while his partner inspected the contents of the wagon, narrating every find for the benefit of the moron.

"Well looky here Jake, they got enough food to keep the boys fed for a week. Good quality stuff too. Bread, and cheese, why, it makes the heart weep after so many months of squirrel! They even got a slave! Mummy and daddy outfitted you two well! Was he a wedding present?" The slightly smarter thief howled with laughter, and after a beat, his cohort joined in. Sarah felt her temper rising at the very mention of the peculiar institution. She stood up, ignoring James' urgent whispers.

"Sir, I am not a settler, I am a journalist, and in the name of our dear lord and his majesty king George the third, I demand to speak to your leader!"

The two thugs shared a passing glance, and smirking, the one named Jake, in a slow, deep, rumbly voice declared," That can be arranged."

Morning saw them in a strange predicament. All three of them were tied, gagged and placed in the back of their own wagon. The dumb one, Jake guarded them while the slightly less dumb one (who they learned was Paul) drove the wagon, albeit, not very skillfully since they were constantly be tossed back and forth on the rock not quite road.

Finally, after hours of this torment, they reached a makeshift camp. Men in more or less similar rough grab strutted around the camp doing whatever task was need. Women stirred steaming pots of laundry and stew, and small children darted between the tents, laughing and playing all the while. The Men, women, and children stopped in their tracks as they passed by, staring gaped mouthed at the spectacle before them. Finally, they reached the man in charge. The man named Paul stepped forward, and became as economical with the truth as a puritan with their ale.

"Sir, we found this motley crew" pot calling the kettle black, Sarah thought "on the path to our fine camp. When we asked what they were doing, they said that they had come in order to settle this fair land in the name our king George himself. Consider they come from the king himself, I figure we should give 'em our finest green mountain welcome."

A smile played on the leaders face. "Well, of course! Which such important guest, we should do our best to make them feel at home. Let's start with untying them." instantly, the two grumbling rogues loosened their ties and removed their gags. "Now that you free to speak, go on and enchant us with an explanation of why in the world you're here."

James was the first to have his gag removed, and he gave Sarah a warning look should she feel the need to interrupt.

"Sir, my name is James hiller, and these are my associates, Henri Le Fabre and Sarah Phillips. We work for the Pennsylvania gazette, and we're here to meet a man named Ethan Allen. We just want to know what's happening around here." Sarah could have smacked the arrogant grin off his face. Sure, they'd listen to him, he was a boy! That's all that really mattered to strangers.

The leader gave them all a smirk, much deeper than any James had ever given. Then, taking a few steps closer, he bent down towards their position on the ground.

"Well, we'll just have to show you. And what a show it will be!"

A few hours later, they were standing before a rough house. Each of the men had a torch in one hand and some sort of weapon in the other. James and Henri were back with a few of the other men, but Allen had insisted on accompanying "the little redcoat" himself. A few glances back told Sarah that James was watching her for any signs of trouble.

One of the younger men banged on the door. Allen called "this house is stolen property! Mr. Whitman, come out and face us like a real man or burn to the ground!"

A snobbish voice hollered from inside, "In the name of our lord god and king George the third, I will not be moved!"

Allen's face took on a strange grimness, and he yelled, "well, fine. If you're game, so are we. Bar the doors! Men! Light your torches! We're going to offer a burnt sacrifice to all the gods of the world."

"wait!" Sarah could keep herself from interrupting, despite the consequences she had been threatened with. "if you're so keen on kicking Mr. Whitman out of this house, why not let the people who were here before move back in?"

"Let's ask 'the people who were here before' how they feel about that. Paul! You wanna move back in?"

The smarter of the highwaymen stepped forward, "if I did that, they'd just toss me and my jenny out again, and what with her and the baby's time being so close at hand, I don't think she could take that. This house been tainted by swine like that. She and I built this house for our family, and I'll burn it for our family!"

With that, he raised his hand, and threw the torch through the window. Others followed after him and soon, there was a merry bonfire where the house once stood.

Sarah looked on, not noticing the tears falling down her face until one dropped on her hand. She dropped to her knees and buried her face in her arm, to try to escape the soul crushing image before her. Now more than ever, she was so unsure. She knew theft was wrong, but so was arson and murder. The world was crumbling beneath her, and she was falling down, down into the deep pit of uncertainty.

James pov

The moon shown on the lake, disturbed only by the soft touch of the paddle. James stared into the calm water, trying not to focus too hard on the mission at hand. The green mountain boys (aided by a stuffy man named benedict Arnold) were about to attack the British fort at Ticonderoga. James had seen action back at Lexington, but that still didn't strive of the uneasy feeling in his gut.

He turned his mind from the water to the man (more of a boy, really) in front of him. There was something familiar about him, but since James couldn't see his face, he couldn't place the boy. A slight current rocked the boat a little, and from under the boy's hat came a lock of long, ginger hair. James' mind instantly reeled as the connection made itself clear.

"Sarah!" he whispered in a tone both urgent and surprised. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you at camp, where it's safe?" the mere idea of Sarah facing battle sent him into a cold frenzy.

"You think you're the only one who wants to follow this story? I'm not going to still around camp while you're off getting it scoop. Besides, we're too far from shore to turn back." Sarah insisted.

Stupid stubborn girl, James mind growled. He took her hand and squeezed it for good measure. "Fine. But stay with me."

The boat jerked as it collided with the shore. One by one, each of the men got out and began their trek into enemy territory. James held onto Sarah's arm, not harshly, but in a way the spoke to protection. as they crept along behind the men.

They moved up the hill and the through the forest, moving constantly at a snail's pace. Finally, the fort came into view, looming overhead like an overgrown pine.

"Commander , in the name of god and the continental congress, I demand that you surrender this fortress!" Allen yelled. For a moment, it seemed like nothing would happen. Then, a lazy looking, nightshirt clad officer crept out. Allen motioned his men to take aim. James tightened his grip on Sarah's arm. His other hand instinctively went for his pistol (funny how in such a short time the action had become as easy as working the press).

"Don't shoot! We surrender. "The men relaxed after hearing the British officer's plea. Slowly, they made their way into the fort. The officer was flanked by three mountain boys on each side. the office lead them to another man in the same state of dress as him.

"my sword, sir." He handed the dull, obviously ceremonial blade to Arnold, the man clearly the commander in his eyes. This action earned jeers and snarks from the mountain boys. One of the braver grabbed the weapon out Arnold's hands and placed it in Allen's. Arnold's triumphant smile turned into an enraged glare.

Within the hour, the rest of the mountain boys' camp had transplanted themselves into the once British fort. James found Sarah sitting on an empty crate with her arms wrapped protectively around herself.

"hey. What's wrong?" James made an effort to sound reassuring. Sarah looked up at him with a mixture of despair and uncertainty.

"I'm just so confused! I want to be loyal, I do, but when I see what's happening, what the king has allowed to happen, it makes me sick," the usual cheer was gone from Sarah's voice, replace with a wavering tone of doubt.

James sat down next to her, and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. Neither one talked. They formed a safe place in the middle of all the turmoil of their world. Words would break their shield. Neither of them wanted that, at least, not now.

End

Well, things are sure getting depressing! I'll try to fix that next chapter. I'm just happy to be over and done with this chapter. I literally wrote the last page or so in one sitting.

AP tests are coming up in a little while, so I'm sorry to say, I will be going on a short hiatus in order to study. Rest assured, chapter 14 will probably be posted sometime after the test.

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