Chapter 35: The Dolls

The Dahl girls were a remarkable trio. They came to our camp every month or six weeks with a wagon load of provisions for their militia-officer father and his staff which included one of their brothers. Then they dallied overnight and, according to rumor, each of them served as many as a half-dozen men by morning when they departed, looking as fresh and lovely as when they arrived.

Their regular visits were much anticipated among the younger officers who called them the "dolls." They ranged in age from about sixteen to perhaps twenty, and they dressed like men with tied-back hair, loose, long-sleeved shirts and flapping trousers. All three were golden blondes and all three were tall and well-made, even in baggy clothes, they were obviously voluptuous women.

But on this visit we were retreating again so the girls were told to quickly dump their load of flour and bacon and get back on the road, back where they came from, back to safety. Foster saw me lounging about and avoiding work and pointed at me and soon I was mounted and leading the girls' wagon and wondering how I could get one of them alone for a few minutes despite my officer's threats of castration if I even touched one.

We rounded a curve in the rut-worn road and ahead I saw a knot of men blocking the way. I had no idea whose men they were, but I knew most of ours were well behind us. I waved the girls off the road quickly, urged them to hop down, dismounted myself and then led the young women and my horse into the woods, hoping we had not been seen.

"What's happening?" asked the tallest blonde, pulling at my elbow.

I put my finger to my lips, patted my horse and we listened. We heard nothing.

"That's a good team out there," another of the three said, her firm breast hard again my ribs. My cock rose, unbidden.

"You may have lost them," I whispered, bending toward her ear and enjoying her clean smell, somehow keeping my hands to myself, but barely.

We waited, the four of us, and in ten minutes or so, I went back toward the road, leaving my reins with one of the girls. I had almost reached the place where I could see when there was a screech behind me. I ran back, pulling my big blade and found the Dahls being attacked by a bunch of young men, most with muskets strapped on their backs which seemed to interfere with their aims which were surely obvious. They were yelping and swinging wildly, in fact both sides were, when I waded in and started knifing male backs and bellies, being very careful about nicking my lovely charges. When the last man standing staggered away, leaking bright blood, he managed to get his weapon cocked before he fell on his face. The rest had been just butchery for me since they were so intent on rape they hardly noticed their friends dying beside them.

The Dalhs straightened their clothes and pushed at their hair as they stood, blood spattered among the sprawled bodies, some of which still shuddered. I kicked one or two over but saw no purses and hustled the young women back to their rig and got us moving again. They had said absolutely nothing to me, just panted and looked rather wildly at each other amid the carnage.

When we came to a stream-side tavern, I waved them into the courtyard, and we washed a bit, used the privy and went inside. Then they talked, full of questions and exclamations.

"You were crazy back there," the middle one said, spooning up stew. The other two nodded. "A wild man, just slashing and yelling."

I managed a smile. "I'm afraid I get that way sometimes."

"What did those men want?" the youngest Dahl asked, rather wide-eyed and looking very innocent as she tore off a hunk of bread.

I looked at the other two and then answered, "Women."

"But," she sputtered, pulling at her big-sleeved shirt.

"Little one," I said and she scowled, "you three don't look any more like men than you do water bugs."

"But I thought," she began.

"We know, honest," said her oldest sister. "But dressing like this makes it easier."

"I suppose," I said. "Are you fooling your father?"

"I doubt it," she said, returning my smile. "I'm sure our brother knows."

"It's exciting," said the middle-sized girl, who might have been the loveliest of the trio but that's for someone else to say. All three were prime.

"This the first trouble you've had?" I asked.

They nodded their blonde heads, bobbling curls.

We got back on the road and made good time, stopping just before sunset at a stage inn that was not doing much business; it was in a general state of disrepair. The tavern's owner said that various patrols, both German and British, had been scouring the area. He was surprised we had not been bothered. So was I.

While we ate some meat pies, two Redcoat officers and a stocky man in mufti came in and took a nearby table. They drank heavily with their supper, and I was about to pack the girls off to bed, hoping I might have a turn or two, when the civilian evidently glanced our way.

"By damn," he cried, getting the attention of all four of us, "Lookee there."

"Come," I said to the girls, but I was too late. A young lieutenant hurried to our table, a large pistol in his hand. I loosened my blood-stained bayonet.

"Want to talk to you," he said to me. He licked his meaty lips.

I looked from his gun to his face. "Talk."

"These three, where were they today?" he asked, waving his gun at the girls, who seemed to be frozen in place, barely breathing.

"On the post road," I said. "We're just out visiting."

"Some men were killed, about eight miles west," he said. "One lived long enough to describe, to say something about gold-haired women, three of them."

I grabbed his wrist and pistol, trapping back the dog head, and twisted it from his hand. The officer at the corner table quickly stood and I shot him right in the face. He fell back, arms flying out. I smacked the lieutenant in the ear with his pistol and then quickly drew his sword and drove it through the civilian's chest as he started to stand, nailing him to the log wall. Then I stomped on the young officer's neck until I was sure we was not going to get up. Somewhere in there I heard the girls screeching.

The inn-keeper and I gathered up their dead men's valuables and then dragged them outside.

"I'll take care of this," he said. "I enjoyed that short fight. Scum, just scum."

"You can keep those purses," I said.

He nodded, hauling the dead lieutenant toward his midden pile.

When I came back inside, two of the girls had gone up to our room and only the oldest was left at the table, sipping her beer.

"You sure do like to kill folks," she said when I sat beside her, thoroughly riled by the fight, hard as oak, ready to pounce.

"What I get paid for," I said, "when I get paid, which isn't often."

"My sisters, they had never seen a man die," she said. "I did, one, an old one."

"They got their fill today," I said.

She nodded.

"You planning to swive us?" she asked, holding my attention with her blue eyes, her fingers on my hand.

"You mean all three of you?" I took her hand.

"No, Regina's still a virgin. She's only thirteen."

"She looks about twenty," I said, "and very tasty indeed. Don't you think she knows what you've been doing?"

"I don't understand," she said.

"Well," I said, "now don't get mad, but the word is that you girls can take care of a half-dozen young officers a night without getting your hair mussed. And, they say, you roger a handful every time you visit your father."

She laughed and shook her head.

"My name's Melody," she said, "and I've had two lovers. One's dead, out on Manhattan, and the other's in Virginia or somewhere down that way. Margy, she's the pretty one, she does have a boy back there, in my father's company, and she has bundled with him and probably done more than that a time or two. She fifteen. I'm sixteen, nearly seventeen. One of father's farm hands took Margy's maidenhead when she was twelve. I think she enjoyed it."

"Just rumors," I said, "all the rest?"

She nodded. "But," she licked her lips, "I could use a man right about now, and that's the truth."

We smiled at each other. "All four of us in one bed?"

"Why not?" she said. "I don't think we sisters have too many secrets."

"I snore," I said, and she laughed.

I went back outside and found the inn-keeper dragging the third naked body off toward his scrap heap. "Lot of critters come around, including a few bears most nights," he said. "They'll be gone by mornin' or large parts a'them will be." He gave me a smile, a nasty one.