Chapter 53: Renata

I heard them before I saw them, a small party of Redcoats coming my way, trotting up the road from the broad valley, jingling and jangling. I turned off into the woods and watched them pass, two dragoons ahead, then a large officer and a young woman riding side-saddle and two more horsemen. None of them seemed particularly alert, and the officer wore enough gold braid to make him interesting so I trailed after them to see if they would give me a chance to get closer.

About an hour before sunset they stopped at the side yard of a crossroads inn, and entered, leaving one man to care for the horses. I checked the loads in my twin-barreled pistol, tethered my mount and walked down to the stable where the soldier had unbuttoned his breeches to take a leak. It was very easy to walk up behind him, lift his chin and cut his throat, spraying a broad swath of blood in the grass. I dragged his body into the underbrush and waited, sure someone would come out to see why he had not joined them inside.

I had used a similar technique previously, but I could not recall when or where. Five minutes later another dragoon entered the dark stable. I clamped my hand over his mouth and pushed my broad bayonet though his body, carving his heart in half after I scraped through some ribs. He fell to his knees and then to his face with blood pouring from his mouth, and I tossed his carcass into a stall and covered it with straw.

I looked though the dirty window and saw the other two cavalrymen sitting at a trestle table while the officer and his woman dined separately, wine in the tall glasses before them. None of them was armed, as far as I could tell, other than the officer's sword. Two muskets stood in the corner near the chimney. No one else except for a serving girl was in view.

I went in through the kitchen, putting a finger to my lips and watching the wench's face show surprise. As I entered the ordinary, one of the soldiers saw me, cursed and leapt up, reaching for his musket. I gave him a ball in the face, and he tumbled back over the table burbling as I cocked the other side of my smoking pistol. The woman screamed, and I shot the other dragoon in the back of the head from about a foot away, spraying blood and brains into the fireplace. He fell face first on the table and the other one stopped twitching on the floor.

I pulled out a chair and sat beside the young woman, who looked at me wide eyed. The corpulent officer had yet to move so I put down my pistol and pulled out my bloody bayonet and poked him with it, right between two golden buttons. I felt the girl start to rise and put a hand on her thigh and said, "Sit still, Miss."

"What, what do you want," the officer finally got out, his lips trembling, his speech Virginia accented.

"Let's start with your name, rank and company."

"Wainright, acting lieutenant colonel, Virginia Grenadiers, detached," he spit out a piece at a time.

"And you?" I said to the woman, whose warm thigh was still in my grip.

She gulped but said nothing. She was a young, well-dressed, dark-haired beauty with a fine, heaving chest and a strong but trembling chin. She was biting her lips. A thin kerchief was around her neck and stuffed between her full breasts.

"Are you his wife?" I asked and she shook her head. "His daughter?" brought another shake. 'What then?"

"We are affianced, to be wed," she said very quietly. She did not sound overjoyed at the prospect and looked as if she had tasted something spoiled.

"Are you?"

"Indeed,"

"Why?"

"Why, what do you mean?" she asked. I kept the bayonet pushed into the colonel's middle, hard enough to hurt, denting his waistcoat.

"I mean why would you marry a fat coward like this, a man who fights against his own kind?"

She sniffed. "My father and he are friends. I had no say in the matter. I think he gave my father some money and a keg of whisky."

"Do you want me to kill him, cut out his liver?" I asked her with a smile as I slid my hand up her plump thigh.

"No, no," she said quickly, looking from one of us to the other and putting her hand down atop mine under the table.

"Bring some beer," I said loudly, and the serving wench appeared almost at once with a pitcher and two mugs.

"Relax," I said and sloshed beer into both tankards. "Drink."

The serving girl drank, twitched her nose and wiped her mouth on her hand.

"How did this shit treat you when he came in?" I asked her.

"He kicked me and called me a slut," she said. "Called my inn a pigsty. Chased my uncle off with curses and threats. His men, them you shot, they laughed and pawed at me." She pulled her dress together over her sagging bosom and gave me a gap-toothed grin.

I cut two buttons from the front of the fat colonel's jacket and raised the point of my big blade to his chin as they clicked to the floor. "Apologize," I said. My left hand continued to enjoy the inside of the young woman's firm thigh.

"I'm, I'm sorry," the officer mumbled, and I stuck him in the throat, barely breaking the skin. He squealed.

"Louder," I demanded as the nick began to bleed. The girl beside me squirmed as I kneaded her leg.

He squeaked out another apology, looking at me with hatred.

"Do you have a room upstairs?" I asked the tavern girl. She nodded and pointed at the stair. I was ready to bed this handsome girl before I did anything else. Killing got the blood moving.

"Up," I said to the officer.

He stood quickly and pulled his sword with a grating hiss, his eyes bulging. I hit him hard, just below his swordbelt, and he dropped the weapon and fell to his knees, retching. I tossed his expensive wig aside, pulled him to his feet and yanked his heavy purse from his belt. I gave the purse to the serving wench and then I hurried the man to the foot of the stairs and tied him with his dark sash and the golden cords he wore on his shoulder.