Chapter 88: The Recruiters

Carolina was, at first, a pleasurable memory test. I always liked tavern wenches, found most humorous and dependable people as well as hard working and generous. So when this little barmaid plopped down my beer and hopped into my lap, I was not very surprised and welcomed her wet kiss and squirming body.

"Let's do it," she whispered as my hand slipped under her skirt. I gulped some beer, picked her up and trotted upstairs, never one to let an opportunity slip by. I was out of my boots and britches in less time than it takes to write it. She was small and warm, and I had her squealing and bouncing on the bed before I remembered the Tories and the fact that she had saved me from being hanged. "I think you've grown," I told her as we rested after our second sweaty congress, one of her lush dugs lying near my mouth and her soggy mound rubbing my thigh.

"You big faker. You didn' even 'member me, an' I bin thinkin' bout you for some time. Never had nobody like you, a'fore or since. Think yours is the biggest size they makes."

"How long you been working here?" I asked, stroking her, massaging her the way she liked with barely a finger tip in her.

"Couple of months," she said. "Camp followin' weren't for me."

"This here's a rowdy place," I said.

She nodded. "We gets all kinds. Was a Tory fellow here t'other night, recruiting."

"You know him?"

She shook her head and purred like a kitten as I helped her mount me once more. "Nope," she gulped, wiggling down my pike. "Said, he'd, oh my, said he'd be back tonight I think." She posted again and again as she rose on her knees and then hung over me so I could suck her nipples while she enjoyed herself.

I mentally set the work aside, grabbed her wide bottom, and we galloped for a while until she squealed and shook. I thought she was going to faint, but she gathered herself and dismounted. I got myself relaxed and went down to finish my beer.

She came to my table again, brought me a fresh tankard and said, "He's here." She nodded at a cleanly shaved man sitting at a corner table.

I slapped down a coin, said "Double or quits," lifted my hand and pushed the crown to her. She smiled and pocketed it. I swigged my beer and walked slowly to the Tory's table. I bent, put my hands on his tabletop and said, "Hear you're looking for fighters?"

"Maybe," he said, nodding at the chair opposite him.

I sat. "I'm looking for work, but I only got a pistol." I pulled it out of the back of my belt and put it between us.

"Awful big knife," the thin man said, gesturing at my bayonet.

I smiled at him. "What'cha payin'?" I asked.

"All y'can steal," he said, "an' all y'can screw."

"Don' need you to do that," I said, returning his small smile.

"We're fighting for the King." he said.

"Fuck the King," I said.

He looked startled. "Army pay, no hold-backs or stoppages, bonuses for horses," he said. "A guinea to sign, sixpence a day."

"Sixpence?" I said, spinning a shilling on the table top.

"Bonuses for most," he said.

"How long do I have to sign for?"

"A year gets you a guinea, two years three guineas."

"I'll sign on for two years. Think this trouble'll las' that long?"

"Wot's your name?"

"John Carroll," I said, thinking of the best-known name in Maryland.

"Welcome to the Tory Legion, John," he said, offering a tidy hand. I took it and mashed it a bit. "Can I buy you a drink?"

I smiled and waved to Lena. "You know this gentleman?" I asked her. "He's gonna buy me a beer."

She brought the recruiter a small glass of brandy and me another tin of beer, along with a scowl. "Now, I can pay what I owe's ya." I said, holding out my hand to the man sitting across from me. He gave me two crowns, and I handed them to the girl.

"'Bout time," she said as she scurried away.

We sat at the tavern until it closed, and then I fetched my horse and followed where the slim man led. He had managed to persuade an out-of-work farm laborer who rode in his carriage, and the three of us followed the moonlit road westward for a mile or so. Then we took a side trail and soon came to a camp by a trickle of a stream after being stopped by two pickets and exchanging passwords.

I guess a dozen small tents dotted the meadow plus a couple of bigger ones and some lean-to shelters. I put my horse into an enclosure and removed her saddle. The recruiter led us to the biggest tent, introduced us to a man who called himself "the colonel" and actually signed us in. My companion made his "X" and I signed a wobbly " John Carrol" with only one "L."

The colonel wrote a guinea beside the X and two guineas beside my signature. "He already give me two crowns," I said, nodding at the recruiter. "Money I owed."