Chapter 44: A Pair

Catching the general was much easier than it should have been. He was traveling without a guard detail, just the driver and an armed footman on the seat. We shot them both, tore open the door and found a portly man of fifty or so in a long-tailed red coat, a trim captain less than half that age, a stylish woman of perhaps thirty and a frilly girl that might have been twenty. The women claimed to be the wife and daughter of the general, although I doubted that from the first sight of them, and the young officer was his aide de camp as he proudly announced, preening, his wig on crooked.

I got up on the driver's seat, took the reins and we hauled them all back to camp. Lt. Foster interviewed the general for a bit and then sent him on for some real questioning. The general's aide haughtily refused to answer any questions and was shot trying to escape the first evening he was with us. I'm not sure who got his purse, but I know Foster took the general's. That left the women. I guess there were eight or ten of us in camp at the time, and I suspect that we all had plans for sharing out the two beauties we had taken away from the British.

Lt. Foster put the end to our dreams when word came down that our prize captive was being very cooperative and wanted to see his aide and his wife and daughter before he continued to answer queries. We took them back in the carriage, regretfully, and I drove them to the meeting place deeper in the interior, on a wooded hilltop in fact.

Both women smiled at me warmly when I offered my hand to help them down. They proceeded toward the big tent, and I assumed that would be the last I saw if them.

I went off to find some food only to be called back to the carriage almost immediately. "These woman are to be taken back to the British, back to New Brunswick," the officer in charge told me, handing me some folded papers. He lowered his voice. "The general wants shet of them. They're both his mistresses it seems and he's tired of them. I think he's more upset that we shot his aide." The Continental captain shook his head and smiled at me. "The women are mad as hell, both of 'em."

The two refused to look at me and shook off my offered help as they stepped up into the carriage a few minutes later. The horses had been watered and fed, I checked the harness quickly, and we were off despite the fact that it was late in the day. I had been given some requisition and safe-passage forms and had a bit of silver of my own. I had no idea whether or not the women had any money.

We were barely out of the camp when there came a thudding on the roof of the carriage, and I stopped the rig and got down. The door opened and older woman stepped down to face me, hands on her hips, eyes blazing. "Where are we going?" she demanded.

"Redcoat headquarters in New Brunswick," I said. I enjoyed looking at her in her anger as she all but trembled in fury.

"Jean and I," she spat at me, "do not want to go there, do we, girl?" she demanded turning back to the open door.

"No," came the quavering response from the shaded interior.

"Poor girl's beside herself; thought that beggar loved her."

I nodded.

"Where can you take us that's safe?" she asked, calming a bit.

"No place is really safe. Trenton or Morristown right now, I suppose."

She bit her lip and looked up at me with her large, dark eyes. "You choose," she said.

"Trenton, then," I said, thinking of Ginny's bed, deep trench and long legs.

"Shall we sleep in the coach or stop at an inn?" she asked, looking up at me and fluffing out her rich, brown curls, licking her lips and assessing my size.

"I'd rather find a bed," I told her with a smile.

She looked me up and down, scratched her ear, said, "yes," and got back in the carriage. By sunset I found the major road I had used before and then pulled into the first big inn we came to, one I had never visited before which made it kind of unusual. I helped the women down, got a small smile from each, took care of the team, and stepped into the warm and friendly place. It was nearly empty.

I talked to the inn-keeper, found he had no one staying the night as yet, hired two rooms and paid him for the horses' care as well as our meals and beds. Then I sat with the women and drank my beer. The older one was Ricka and was from New York; the younger was a New Jersey girl. Both had hired on to serve the general's needs for companionship and sex, and he had happily shared them with his compatriots and his late aide.

"I hated to see poor Sammy get shot," Ricka said calmly. "He was a terrible shit, but at least he kept himself clean."

Jean just nodded, looking at me with her bright blue eyes, her straw-blonde hair pulled back and bunched at the crown of her head under a tiny hat. She did not seem too bright. More men had entered the tavern and the noise level rose steadily as did the cloud of tobacco smoke.

Suddenly a large British cavalry officer sat on the bench beside Jean, ignored me, and said to Ricka, "You're the general's doxie, ain't'cha?"

"Sir," she said coldly.

"I seen you when he came on that inspection," the man said, a smile creasing his scared face. "Come 'have a cup of wine with me an' my friends. This rube won' mind, will ye?" he asked, looking at me, his eyes very cold, manner threatening.

"Up to the lady," I said quietly, sizing him up since I guessed I might have to fight him. He was broad shouldered and deep chested, his closely shaved face pock-marked and weather-beaten. He looked like a man who had enjoyed more than one fight.

"Lady," he crowed loudly, striking the tabletop with his open hand. "Haw, now that's a good one. This little snatch 'ere and the one beside you, they's bedded half the King's officer corps, they has, and done 'em proper, too. Charles," he called turning from us, "come 'ere, you 'as to hear this."

I reached across the heavy table, grabbed his neckcloth and twisted. "I said lady, and that is what I meant," I told him as his face turned red. Someone put his hand on my shoulder and I drove my elbow back, smashing into the unseen man's groin. He screeched and fell to his knees beside me, and I hit him hard on the back of his neck. He fell on his face, and I put my foot on him and turned my attention back to the squirming man across from me, who now held my arm with both his hands. He was gasping for air, and Ricka beside me said, "Please."

I eased my grip and the man subsided onto the bench, straightening his collar. He helped his friend from the floor, and then both stood beside our table, obviously furious. "Let's go outside," the big cavalry officer said quietly.

I made to rise, but the woman beside me grabbed my arm. "Don't," she said.

"Come on, shitkicker," the man I had floored demanded. He pulled his sword a foot out of his scabbard.

I shook off the woman's grasp and followed the two Redcoats out the back door. They stood in the courtyard facing me, breathing hard.

"Gentlemen," I said to them. "I will not give you those women."

"We'll take 'em when you're dead," said the younger of the two, drawing his saber with a loud scraping sound. He smiled as he saluted me with his bared blade.

I grabbed his free arm, twisted it up behind his back and rammed him into the cavalry officer I had almost choked. I twisted the man's arm until I heard and felt something pop loose, then tripped him and tossed him aside as the big cavalryman rose to one knee, drawing his sword and cursing. I kicked him in the mouth and then stomped him in the belly, twice, hard as I could with the edge of my heel.

I went back to the first man, dragged him to his feet, hustled him around the side of the stable and drove my big bayonet straight through him, ripping him open. I pulled the moaning cavalry officer back beside the bleeding body of the younger man, made sure he saw what I had done and then drilled my wide blade through his back with my hand over his mouth, arching his spine. When I pulled it free, he fell on his friend. The bodies were far enough back in the dark that I was not unduly concerned about them being found so I took their purses plus a pocket watch and signet ring, tossed some weeds over the corpses, wiped my blade on one man's leg and went back inside, blood pounding.

Ricka looked at me oddly as I settled down beside her. "Where are they?" she asked.

"Decided to leave," I said, waving for another drink.

She nodded, and Jean said, "You've got blood on your hand and sleeve."

I put my right hand in my lap and wiped it off on my britches, toasting them silently with my foaming tankard.

Shortly I stood guard while the women visited the necessary and then followed them up to their room. It was adequate with a big bed and a stoutly framed window. I showed them how to bolt and then brace the door closed with their chair and then went to the privy myself after one more beer. On my way back in, I glanced at the dark lump that had been two men and went on to bed, my conscience clear.

I slept well, enjoying only a thought or two about the young women lying on the other side of the thin wall from me. I awoke to a tap on my door and opened it with my bayonet in my hand. It was the stable lad.