Chapter 50: The Price of Bravery

I was above stairs enjoying one of the big tavern's three wenches. I believe it was Janie. In fact I never thought of them separately. They were interchangeable and all fine pieces. We were well into our second session of the afternoon, bouncing on the swaybacked bed, when there was a ruckus downstairs with cursing, doors slamming and chairs hitting the floor. I rolled out of bed despite some half-hearted protests and saw that most of the customers were leaving, a few shaking their fists at someone in the doorway, someone I could not see.

"You'd best go see what's going on," I said to the girl.

"Why me, go yourself," she said.

"Might be trouble, Redcoats, you know."

She moaned, rose, pulled down her shift, got into her skirt, half-fastened her kirtle and got her big feet in her clogs. She tossed a rude gesture my way and clumped down the steps. I did not have to wait long. I heard her, talking extra loud as she came back up the stairs. "First on the right, Major," she said. I stood against the wall where the opening door would conceal me, and in came an artillery major in full regimentals, working on his cross belts and obviously eager for action.

I tapped him behind the ear with the butt of my heavy pistol and caught him as he fell, limp as a bag of potatoes. I quickly gagged him and hog tied him with his own belts. He had a fat purse which I tossed to the smiling girl.

"What's going on?" I asked her as she quickly counted the coins, pocketing a few.

"Him and four more, his staff likely."

"So?"

"They's all randy, was deciding who got who when we came up."

More bootsteps on the stairs informed us that the decisions had been made. We heard laughs and giggles as the other two tavern whores took their officers to the shabby rooms at the back of the inn.

"Who'd they leave down below?"

"Pair of ensigns, I 'spect, young ones, fuzz-faced. One's kind'a pretty."

I checked on the unconscious major and walked quietly to the first room. I popped open the door and cried, "Camille, who's this?" I thought the man between the slut's legs was going to have an attack. He leapt from the bed with his britches about his knees. He had not even bothered to take off his boots. For a moment, I thought I had seen him before, and I was right.

"For shame," I yelled at the girl whose name I never could remember but I'm certain was not Camille. She pulled the quilt up to her chin and covered her face, choking off her laughter.

"Pull up your breeches and sit over there," I told the lieutenant, pointing with my pistol. He did as he was told and I tied him in the chair, told the girl to fetch me an ensign and went next door. There the couple was reasonably bare and deeply and intimately involved in their activities, one deadly serious the other wholly feigned. In fact I had to slam the door twice to get their attention. I finally pulled the scrawny officer off his heaving companion and cracked him in the forehead with the barrel of my pistol. He fell to his knees, shaking his head, and I hit him again. He dropped on his face, and I left him there.

More chatter and steps on the stairs led me outside where I encountered two young subalterns on the landing, busily undoing their buttons. I showed them my pistol and ushered them into the room with the sleeping major. I tied them to opposite ends of the wench's off-used bed, went downstairs and had a drink.

"You ruined a good day's trade," said one of the ladies I had rescued from British ardor, the one I had labeled Camille.

"Might'a made a crown, even more," said the other.

"I'll make it up to you," I said. "Promise." I looked at the girl I had tossed the heavy purse to, and she winked at me over her gin glass.

All the while I was pondering what I was going to do with my catch. I doubted than any of this bunch knew much that was useful, and we had recently made all the trades the leadership seemed to want. So I had five officers that were basically useless. I might as well kill them and strip their bodies, thought I. Their horses would be more welcome they they were.

I brought them down, one at a time, and tied them to chairs around a big table, one foot and the right hand of each. The major was the last one I chivvied to my meeting. He was still nursing a headache. I ordered beer and left each of them a free hand to drink with.

"Gentlemen," I said, when we had slaked our thirst a bit, "there is no market for you. You are worthless."

"What are you talking about?" asked the major rather quietly.

"Do you know Howe's plans? Will he attack Philadelphia or go north? What's Carleton up to?"

The officer shook his head and smiled at me.

"If we keep you we have to feed you until we can trade you. I've decided to cut your throats and strip your bodies. You're worthless, as I said."

I thought the pink-faced ensign sitting next to me was going to faint or throw up, and I patted his back gently.

"What do commissions cost these days?" I asked, as if I had just thought of it. "An ensign must be two or three hundred. What's a lieutenancy now, five hundred quid? And major, my, that must have cost you three thousand easily, right?"

"Thirty-five hundred, actually," he said.

"So, I've changed my mind. I've decided to ransom you, if I can. Let's see your money." I watched the major reach for his missing purse and then he looked at me and narrowed his eyes.

"Janie," I cried, holding up my hand. She tossed it to me with look of disgust, and I weighed it in my hand. It might have been a few shillings lighter but not much. I dumped it out in front of the major while the others produced their purses.

"Lieutenant," I said to the man at my right, "Is that it? Two shillings six?" He nodded. He forehead showed the effects of my blow, and he was still a bit wobbly.

"Friad you get the chop," I said, shaking my head and looking sad.

"Wait," he said, pulling off his sword belt. He tore at the lining and spilled gold coins on the table, perhaps twenty of them or various sizes. I tossed one to each of the women and they faded from view, all smiles.