Chapter 10: Toward Annapolis

So southward I rode, sore and well pleased with myself, going toward my own state, Maryland, and looking forward to the fleshpots of Annapolis Town which, like most ports, was known for its tavern wenches and sturdy ale. Once across the line laid down by Mr. Mason and Mr. Dixon, I felt much more at home. I believed that the air was cleaner and the breeze fresher as I rode until I was satisfied that in one more day I could reach the capital where I hoped to find my outfit and General Greene himself. Questions along the way convinced me he was but two or three days past, and I knew he meant to pause there and seek financial aid.

The tavern I chose looked reasonably new. I took care of my horse, gave the boy a coin and entered eager to have a few beers and at least one young woman. The maid who brought me my meal wore a man's wide-sleeved shirt, open at her throat, a leather vest that pushed up her full breasts and a wide skirt of homespun. She had on wooden clogs and a permanent smile.

Since the place was not crowded when she brought me my third tankard, I pulled her down beside me and stole a kiss and a feel of her firm body. She wiggled but did not pull away as I gripped her thigh. "Nancy Ann," she said her name was, "but mos' call me Nan," she said with a toss of her dirty curls. I told her who I was, said I was from Frederick Town and asked if she might have the time later for a bit of a romp.

"I might, jus' might," she said, and pulled free as a knot of new customers came in. I patted her wide rump as she went and got a smile for my efforts. An hour or so and several more tankards later, Nan came to my corner table, looking crestfallen.

"I dinna can do it," she said, "the boss has promised without me knowin' it. I'm truly sorry."

"Promised you," I said, "Who to?"

"One of the sheriff's deputy's, a mean one at that." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder.

"The big one with the red curls?" I asked.

"Aye," she said. "He's a reg'lar."

"I'll talk to him."

"Oh," she said, eyebrows arched, "don' do that. He'll cut out yer gizzard."

I had enjoyed looking down the front of the girl's gaping shirt so I stood and ambled across to the big table in the middle of the room where a card game was in progress. I watched for a few minutes and when one of the players went broke, asked if I could sit in. The big redhead nodded, and I put a stack of shillings in front of me.

"What's the game?" I asked.

"Five card, no limit," he said, showing me his gap toothed mouth in what I suppose what his idea of a smile.

I nodded, and we played. When the deal got around to me, I said, "Let's try some seven card. This deck's kind of cold tonight."

"Five card is the game, little man," the redhead said.

"Only game you know?" I asked, trying to look innocent.

He made a grab for me, and I clamped a hand on his wrist, twisted and stood, pulling him from his chair and spilling cards and a few coins. He swung at me with his free hand, and I turned so he hit my shoulder, bending his trapped arm up his back and then running him head first into one of the thick posts that held up the roof. His head made a very satisfying sound, a solid thunk that shook the building.

He grunted but stayed standing, shaking his head. I let go of his arm, turned him about and hit him three times; belly, heart and chin, all three well landed and the last one snapping back his head and flooring him.

I left him there, resumed my seat, stacked my coins, and said, "Anyone for seven card?"

I quickly found myself alone, and the deputy's friends dragged him out after scraping what money they could into somebody's hat. Nobody would even look at my way.

That left me and Nan and the inn-keeper, who did not look too happy about this turn of events.

"That was likely a mistake, mister," he said to me.

"I'll be gone tomorrow," I said, dropping my stack of shillings into his hand.

"Uh huh," he said. "Hope you live that long. That's one mean bastard you took on."

"That so?" I said, pulling the girl down to my lap.

"You might not wake up," he said, jingling the coins.

"I'll be careful," I said. "Goodnight."

The girl took me up to her tiny room and left her boss to blow out the lamps and put up the chairs. We helped each other get out of our clothes, and since we were both pretty good-sized people, I am sure we strained her rope bed to its utmost. But she was a good one, young and willing, oft-used but still energetic despite a full day of work, and once I got my feet braced on her footboard, I did all right, too, savoring her energy and pleasure.

When we rested, still more or less coupled, she said, "Bob is right. Reds Fulton is a nasty, mean and angry man. I hate to swive him, but I have to now and then. He likes to bite and twist, pain's his thing. I've still got teeth marks from the last time he done me."

"Is he a Tory?" I asked.

"Doubt it," she said, rubbing my back. "He don' care 'bout nothin' but hisself. You 'bout ready?"

I was, so we got at it again and lost the real world in each other. I was arched above her, both arms fully extended on the bed's sideboards and my ram just about to explode in her again, my stones churning, back straining, when the door downstairs smashed open.

"Damn," I said, withdrawing quickly and leaving the girl moaning and writhing, unsatisfied I suppose. I found my britches, my heavy belt and bayonet, and went to see what sort of fight this would be.

As I topped the stairs, I almost ran into a shotgun blast which tore into the steps and banister about a foot in front of my nose, throwing wood chip all over the place. Hoping it was not a double barreled gun, I lunged down the steps, touching only one or two at the top and throwing myself at my adversary in the dark. I smashed him back to the floor and was about to beat his head against the planking when two men grabbed my arms and yanked me off of him. He stood, a bit shaky.

I relaxed, and the men holding me loosened their grip so I could pull myself free and grab them about the neck and smash their heads together. They fell at my feet while the big man scrambled across the floor, looking for his shotgun.

The only light came from the high flying moon, but that was enough for me to see the thing right at the foot of the steps. I picked it up and yelled, "Fulton! You looking for this?"

When he turned, growling, I pulled the back trigger, not knowing whether or not that second barrel was loaded. He had not cocked the other chamber so I quickly yanked back the doghead and let it go. It was loaded with heavy buckshot, and the man shambling toward me, just ten feet away when I fired, was shredded, his arm nearly blown off and his face unrecognizable as anything human. He managed to stagger back two steps before he fell. I disarmed the men on the floor, dumped some water on them, booted them to sensibility and urged them to take the dead man out with them and not come back for a week or so.

They nodded and complied, hurrying to drag what was left of the big man out by his feet, just carrion by then. I found myself a drink. The innkeeper appeared from somewhere, barefoot and in his nigh shirt.

"You kill him?" he asked.

I nodded, pouring down some of his liquor.

"How many of them?"

"Just three," I said,

"Good night," he said, remounting the stairs and shaking his head. I used the privy and went back to Nan's bed.

"Now," I said, lifting high her legs, and re-entering her rather gently with her feet by my ears, my prick hardened by the bloody excitement, "where were we?"

"What happened?" she gasped out, shaking her curly head from side to side as she let me in, heaving up her lush body and drawing me deeper. "I heard two shots, thought you must be dead."

"You'll never have to roger the deputy again," I said, rocking my hips as I impaled her.

"Good, good, good," she cried, wrapping me in her legs.

In the morning the girl squealed with pleasure several times as she enjoyed my massive and tireless erection. When she had finally had enough, she lay mostly on me with the soft, thick thing in her hand and sighed, "My sister'd like to meet you, poor little girl."

I waited, patting her sweaty back and wondering if I could manage just one more.

"She's got no man. He run off, lef' her with three young 'uns, jus' babies, and she's a year or two younger n'me."

She gave up on my root and rolled out of bed, looking for her clothes. I lay back and enjoyed watching her, feeling my spike tingle with blood flow. "Where's she live?" I asked, letting my hand stroke the tired monster.

"Just down the road, hoot and a holler," she said with a smile, pulling her shirt over her head. "Got to get to work; sun's up. Too bad you ain't."