Fire Dragon's Angel

by Barbara Blythe

  “Tell us, man, and be quick,” someone shouted.

  “It’s Bacon. He’s set women upon the ramparts to keep the men from obeying the governor’s order to fire.”

  “What are you saying?” Latimer quickly crossed over to the man who still visibly quaked. He looked up at Latimer, terror etched in his reddened eyes.

  “I said there…there are women on the ramparts.”

  “Who—what women?”

  The man trembled more. Latimer knew he had bellowed, but he couldn’t help it.

  “Tell me!” It took everything within him to keep from shaking the man. He dreaded the words he expected the man to utter.

  “The wife of the auditor general; Elizabeth Page; Anna Ballard; several planters’ wives and…” The man grew paler while his hesitation was drowned by the thud of Latimer’s heart.

  “Who else?” Latimer lost his battle to control his temper and took hold of the front of the man’s coat, dragging him out of his chair and close to his face.

  “Lady Kirkleigh and your niece.”

  Fire Dragon's Angel

  39

  There was no thought of sleep for Ceressa as she remained wide-awake fighting the urge to give in to her crippling fear. She and April had been Bacon’s captives for two nightmarish days. With her hands bound before her, she’d been rendered helpless for the most part. Exhaustion had finally claimed April, and the child had curled into her lap and fallen asleep. The other women taken from their families and their homes sat not far away, most of them softly weeping. Ceressa’s back ached, and the flesh about her wrists was raw from the ropes tied so tightly about them. She was bruised and sore, and, worst of all, it seemed that God wasn’t listening to her prayers. Even though the logical side of her mind knew that He was, she feared His resolution of this situation might not be the one she hoped for. If only He would spare April. She knew how important the child was to Latimer. And if He would only heal poor Mariette. Was it possible that she was dead? And what of Bengie, whose heart would be broken?

  Something made her look up. Though night had fallen, the fires and torches provided enough light for her to see a tall man approaching on foot, his hands raised in the air as he crossed the bridge that connected the James Cittie fort with the isthmus. Ceressa heard the unmistakable raising of muskets, each surely aimed at the advancing man. There was something familiar in his sure stride, in the lift of his chin.

  “Don’t fire!” She screamed the words. “Don’t fire. Let him in. He’s not armed. Let him in.”

  Shouts and curses resounded, creating momentary confusion, but Ceressa blocked it all as she asked Angelica Bray to watch over April then scrambled down from her vulnerable place on the ramparts, hampered by her bound hands. Racing across the open expanse, she pushed and shoved her way to the fore as Bacon prepared to meet the uninvited guest as the gates swung wide. Eluding the hands that tried to stop her, she slipped past a startled Bacon. Never so much as glancing back, she hurled herself at the man, already aware that it was Latimer.

  “Thank You, God! Ceressa.” He choked out her name as he folded her in his strong arms. Pulling back, he took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Latimer. I was forced from Tidelands, and April is here, too. I didn’t want to leave the others, but I had no choice.”

  Now Latimer feverishly worked on her ropes, easing them away from her injured wrists. “I’m not worried about Tidelands. I’m worried about you and April. I nearly lost my mind when I learned that you were both here. Is April—?

  “Unharmed. I need to return to her.” Suddenly, they were surrounded, arms breaking them apart. Ceressa screamed, kicked, and bit whatever exposed flesh she could locate. Her efforts were in vain for she was dragged back within the fortifications. She noticed the women huddled together, April clutching Angelica’s skirt. When the child saw her, she shrieked her name, and Ceressa ran over to her, taking the sobbing child into her arms. Latimer was now bound, and she feared Bacon would kill him. She had to do something.

  “You’re no man, Nathaniel Bacon. If you were, you’d give Latimer a chance to fight you as an equal. You’re afraid of him. All of your men will see you as the coward you are.”

  An ominous silence slipped over those gathered, broken only by furtive whisperings. Ceressa held her breath, praying that Bacon would give Latimer a chance to defend himself. Ceressa met Latimer’s eyes, shaken by the emotion and pride that shone forth from them. If only they could have another chance.

  “Why have you come here?” Bacon demanded of Latimer. There was not a sound, and Ceressa was certain all could hear the pounding of her heart.

  “I’ve come to offer myself in place of my wife and niece, and the other women. Spare these women and this child, and do what you will to me.”

  “No, Latimer!” Tears ran down Ceressa’s face. What was he thinking? April needed him. She needed him.

  “Your wife seems to think merely killing you would be the coward’s way. I’m inclined to agree. Cut him loose.” Once Latimer was freed, Bacon tossed him a sword. Ceressa thought she might faint, but with April in her arms, she was denied the blessed oblivion of unconsciousness. “We’ll fight as gentlemen. If you win, the women may go. Of course, if you lose, you’ll die.”

  The merciless steel of the blades clashed, the deadly clang ringing in the sultry night while the flames of a fire glinted off the swords. In that moment of greatest fear, clarity descended upon Ceressa. Everything suddenly made sense—seven years ago, God knew that one day she and Latimer would be married. God also knew she would need the skills Latimer taught her that summer in order to be a helpmeet to him here in this wilderness in which they would one day make their home. Yet, what good was she at the moment, standing there watching her beloved fight Nathaniel Bacon? Both men were unquestionably skilled, Latimer more aggressive and physical; Bacon, lighter on his feet. It appeared the fight was going in Latimer’s favor until Bacon nicked his ribs, drawing blood.

  Latimer lost his rhythm, then his sword with Bacon’s next blow. Dropping to his knees, Latimer narrowly dodged what might have been the death thrust of Bacon’s sword. Instead it embedded in the earth beside him. Catching up the sword, Latimer swung about, crouched for a strike. Bacon threw up his arms to ward off what he knew would be certain death. Springing to his feet, Latimer tucked the tip of the sword beneath Bacon’s chin, breathing heavily as he appeared to contemplate his next move.

  “Go ahead, kill me. It’s what Berkeley would expect of you.”

  “I don’t live by Berkeley’s rules. Nor by yours. I have no wish to spill more blood. You’ll destroy yourself, Nathaniel Bacon, without me helping you. Release the women and the child, and allow them to return to their homes.”

  Another endless silence descended upon all, but this time, the outcome was much different. Looking tired and defeated, Bacon turned to his second in command and conversed in low tones, but Ceressa heard him issue the order to free the hostages. The air quickly filled with happy cries as the women hurried past headed toward the open gate.

  “Go on,” Bacon ordered Latimer. “Take your wife and niece and go. But the next time we meet, I’ll show no mercy.”

  “Nor will I.” Latimer took April from Ceressa with one arm then clasped her trembling hand. Ceressa had never known greater joy as they left together. Within minutes, they had crossed to the other side. But elation quickly turned to confusion when their way was barred by a half dozen of the governor’s personal guards. Latimer quickly handed April to Ceressa just before they seized him and stripped him of the sword he’d taken from Bacon.

  “What is the meaning of this? What’s happening?” Ceressa demanded breathlessly, bewildered by Latimer’s calm acceptance of this new menace. He gave her a lopsided grin.

  “Sir William assured me that if I dared to step foot on Bacon’s side, I’d be arrested if I returned alive. He’s merely proving he’s a man of his word.”

>   ****

  Ceressa was dirty, ragged, and as badly in need of a bath as the men in Bacon’s camp. Tears welled, but this wasn’t the time to feel sorry for herself. Latimer remained incarcerated, and she could do nothing to free him. Now that the fighting had resumed, things looked bleak for the governor. Most of the few remaining residents had fled over the last few days, since the release of the hostages, no longer willing to die in support of Sir William. And even though Latimer had ordered Bengie to take her and April back to Tidelands, Ceressa had refused to leave. She wouldn’t leave until Latimer left with her. She, Bengie, and April had taken shelter in Latimer’s cottage.

  “If Master Latimer hadn’t insisted on going into Bacon’s camp alone, Sir William wouldn’t have arrested him. I, as well as a dozen others, was willing to go with him to confront Bacon and demand release of the women. But he feared Bacon would harm you, April, and the others if they suspected a trap.”

  “Bengie, don’t blame yourself. Latimer made the decision, believing it to be the best course of action. He knows you would do anything for him.”

  “But I haven’t managed to free him,” Bengie responded glumly, holding April in his arms. By now they were at the entrance to the gaol. They had become accustomed over the last three days to the unwelcome glare of the guards and the request to halt whenever they presented themselves. One of the sentries recognized Ceressa and Bengie and instructed the others to let Ceressa pass. Upon entering the cell area, she saw that Latimer was still the lone prisoner, sitting on the dirt floor in a corner of the tiny space, his arms resting on his bent knees and his head lowered. The stench of sweat and other odors made her stomach roil, but she fought down the accompanying nausea.

  Latimer looked up then came to his feet at sight of her. His clothing was tattered and filthy; his exposed flesh laced with bruises and dried cuts. Ceressa knew that Bacon had nicked him in the ribs and prayed that the untreated wound wouldn’t become infected. He pressed against the bars and reached out his hands to her. She quickly clasped them.

  “Ceressa, why haven’t you left? Why are you still here? I told you yesterday—”

  “Hush.” Withdrawing a hand, she pressed her fingertips to his lips. She had his words memorized by now for she’d heard them twice daily over the course of the three days of his imprisonment. To her delight and dismay, Latimer pressed his lips to those silencing fingertips, sending ripples of heat racing through her. His touch nearly made her swoon, and she quickly withdrew her hand. But Latimer snatched it back and crushed it with his powerful grip.

  “Listen to me. I told you to leave. The end can’t be far away, and I don’t want you and April here. Go home. The old man can’t keep me locked up much longer. He needs me to fight because everyone else is gone. Leave.”

  She freed her hand from his, and, just as she had for the past seventy-two hours when he issued this order, she lifted her head, steeled her jaw, and folded her arms over her chest.

  “No.”

  “You are stubborn, willful, disobedient, and headstrong. You’ve never once done anything I’ve asked of you since the night I found you at the Red Rose. The least you could do is obey me this one time. I could cheerfully take a switch to that fetching backside of yours and instill some of the discipline your parents’ obviously failed to. Why can’t you do as I ask just once?”

  A sob escaped Ceressa, convinced that there would never be a place for her in Latimer’s life. She was a bother and a nuisance to him and had been since the night of Sir Geoffrey’s soirée. She started to turn away when Latimer unexpectedly reached through the bars and snatched her so close the iron rods seemed embedded in her flesh, his lips so close to hers the stubble of his unshaven face scratched her cheek. “Don’t you know I’m dying inside from fear something will happen to you or April? Why do you think I’ve kept myself from you all these months? I wanted you to have a choice. If you decided to return to England, you could do so unhampered.”

  “But we are husband and wife. God has joined us, and we are joined in body and heart and mind. We may have only been together once, but I will never forget it, and I will never stop loving you. I will not leave.” Ceressa’s breathing was as ragged as Latimer’s, both of them drawing in of the malodorous air as though they’d been running for miles.

  “Oh, God in Heaven,” Latimer prayed aloud. “Keep this woman, my soul and my life, safe and well. Hold her in Your arms and keep her near to You. God, thank You for the blessing of this woman.”

  Ceressa was crying so hard, she could no longer distinguish the handsome features of Latimer’s face. Each nuance, both subtle and pronounced melted into a liquid haze. “I love you, Ceressa. Always remember that I loved you.”

  His words held the ring of finality, of a permanent parting. Tearing herself from his grasp, she staggered back, crying brokenly, hating what was happening; hating the governor for punishing a man whose only crime was holding true to his beliefs; hating Bacon for forcing Latimer to defy the recognized power in the colony. Sir William might never let Latimer go. And even if he did, Bacon would be waiting for a chance to kill Latimer. “Oh, Lord, help us. Help us all.”

  Fire Dragon's Angel

  40

  “Mistress Ceressa, wake up. Wake up. We have to hurry. The governor has ordered the evacuation of the town.” Groggily, Ceressa sat up, trying to focus on Bengie and make sense of his words. Another day had passed; a horrible day because Latimer had refused to see her when she’d visited the gaol.

  “I don’t understand,” she murmured, her head aching. She could tell it was late afternoon by the light that came through the windows.

  “There’s no time for explanations. If we’re not out of here shortly, we’re certain to become prisoners of Nathaniel Bacon.”

  “Do you think the governor has released Latimer?”

  “I don’t see where he’d have a choice. If we move quickly enough, we’ll be able to board one of the governor’s ships. Once we put to shore, Master Latimer and I should be able to secure horses for our ride back to Surry.”

  “But what if Sir William doesn’t release Latimer?” Ceressa rose from the bed and ran her fingers through her tangled locks with little success.

  “The governor dare not leave a nobleman imprisoned with Bacon practically on his doorstep. How quickly can you and April be ready?”

  “There’s no getting ready. If we need to leave, we go as we are.”

  Without hesitation, Bengie lifted the sleeping child in his arms and led the way from the chamber. Once outside, Ceressa started to fasten the latch of the front door until she realized no latch would keep Bacon or his men from destroying the cottage. She had to restrain a hysterical giggle.

  The town and wharf swarmed with people, the ships being boarded in record haste. Women cried, babies wailed, men shouted and cursed; the sounds of human misery conveyed the desperation of the moment. Bengie saw her and April on board then left to go search for Latimer. As Ceressa hoisted April on to her hip, she recognized two soldiers as guards from the gaol. Surely, they would know what had become of Latimer, so she hurriedly walked over to them where they stood by the rail.

  “Have all been evacuated from the gaol?” They both scowled in irritation then one finally summoned the courtesy to answer her. “We’ve been away the better part of an hour.”

  “Is Lord Kirkleigh already on board?” Perhaps he was on this very ship, she thought joyfully.

  “That traitor? He’s not on board.”

  “If not this ship, another one?” Ceressa’s momentary joy was quickly turning to panic, her heart hammering beneath her breast.

  “He isn’t on any ship,” the other replied curtly. “The governor ordered him to be shackled and left in his cell. That’s what happens to traitors. Sir William is hoping Bacon will kill him.”

  Horror swept Ceressa so powerfully she had to place April on her feet. She rushed past the two men to the ship’s side to relieve her stomach of the half an apple she’d forced down earlier
that day. She leaned over, gasping and crying, while April tugged on her skirt, tearfully demanding that she be picked up. Someone touched her elbow.

  “Mistress Ceressa, I can’t find—”

  “I know where he is.” She turned to Bengie. “He’s still in the gaol. He’s to be left there so that Bacon can murder him.”

  “Then I’ll go get him.”

  “No!”

  Bengie’s eyes widened at the force in her tone.

  “You’ll see that April gets safely to Tidelands. I’m going back for Latimer.”

  “If something happens to you, Master Latimer will never forgive me.”

  “I have to do this, Bengie. Once, when I had no one to turn to, he saved me. Otherwise, I would have died. I won’t leave him now. And if Mariette still lives, you will marry her and look toward the future. Promise me you will see to April’s care. Latimer’s father will take the child.”

  “But his father is dead.”

  “Sir Geoffrey is Latimer’s true father.”

  Bengie’s eyes widened more.

  “If neither Latimer nor I return to Tidelands, send word to Sir Geoffrey.” Now somewhat recovered, Ceressa knelt before April, the sweet child’s face streaked with dirt and tears. “You must be brave, sweetheart. Mr. Harrell is taking you home to Sissy and Libby and Mrs. Arston.”

  “Brave?” she repeated. “Brave begins with B. Brave means Kitchi—my papa’s name.”

  “Yes. Brave like your father was and brave as is your uncle Latimer.”

  “Unca Lat’s in tubble?”

  “I’m afraid so. But I’m going to try to help him. That’s why I have to leave you with Mr. Harrell. Be good and do what he says.” She kissed April’s cheek then stood facing Bengie, who was clearly distressed by her decision. “I need your sword.”

  “My sword? But I—”