Chapter Thirteen
Leah woke early and dressed, making herself as presentable as possible in a field tent. Last night she and Harrison had arrived in New Brunswick too late to speak with anyone concerning Edmund and William's kidnapping, but Leah intended to waste no time this morning. She would find out what happened if she had to speak with Commander Washington himself.
Leah smoothed out the wrinkles of the heavy wool skirt she wore. That day on the beach a week ago she and Harrison had walked inland wearing the assorted clothing he'd found washed up on the shore. They walked through marshland for hours until they finally came to a small farmhouse. With some of the coins Leah still miraculously carried in her leather money pouch, they bought two horses and an outfit of clothing for each of them. The wool skirt, spotted bodice, and kerchief the farmer's wife had sold her were plain, but they were without moth holes and clean and sturdy. Leah felt a little like a housemaid in the homespuns, but the clothing fit comfortably and she had been able to ride astride. Unfortunately the shoes were too tight, but she put them on anyway.
Leah was just brushing her hair out with a wooden comb the farmer's wife had given her when she heard a male voice outside her tent.
"Mistress Beale?"
"Aye? Yes, come in." She tied her long mane of red hair back with a strip of cotton and tossed the comb onto the camp cot.
A soldier stepped inside. Short shorn orange red hair showed beneath his worn wool hat. Leah glanced at the insignia he wore attached to his farmer's raw wool tunic. "Lieutenant Ross, I assume?"
"Yes. Yes, ma'm."
Leah nodded. "My husband spoke often of you. He always said you were a superior officer."
Lieutenant Ross averted his gaze. He was no older than Leah. "Thank you, ma'm, Mistress Beale."
"Look, Lieutenant. This is not a social call. I've come a long way for information on my husband and son."
"Yes, ma'm."
"I want to know exactly what happened the night they were kidnapped and I want to know what is being done about it. My son is eight years old. I find it very discouraging to know that the entire patriot army could not protect one small boy against the English."
"Yes, ma'm."
Leah ground her teeth. She could see this was not going to be easy. "Lieutenant, you can speak now. Tell me something other than 'yes, ma'm'."
He looked at her and then back at the muddy canvas floor of the tent. "I'm not at liberty to give details as to the capture of Captain Beale."
"I see." She dropped her hands to her hips. "Then I suppose I need to speak with whomever is at liberty. "
"Yes, ma'm. Captain Mitchell has asked that I escort you to the officer's dining tent to break the fast with him."
"I see." Leah reached for the wool surtout she'd purchased from the farmer's wife on the tidewater. It was hopelessly old fashioned, but it had served as coat and blanket for a full week and kept her warm and dry. She tossed it over her shoulders. "Lead the way, Lieutenant."
Lieutenant Ross led her out of the tent and down a row of identical tents. Last night when Leah and Harrison had come into the camp it had been too dark for her to see anything but the flickering of a few oil lamps, but now she saw the entire patriot camp spread out before her.
Leah's heart sank. How would this rag-tag army ever beat the greatest military force in all the world? Their tents were tattered. The men that passed by her were without proper uniforms, some without coats or boots. Their faces were haggard from lack of food, perhaps lack of hope. A man limped by with naught but bloodied rags tied around his feet. He left a stain in the wet snow behind him.
A lump rose in Leah's throat. "How have you made it this far, Lieutenant?" she asked softly. She stared at the wearied faces of the men huddled around campfires they passed.
Lieutenant Ross shook his head. "Not all of them stay, Mistress Beale. We've got deserters. Some go home to their farms, others cross the rivers to the Brits who'll feed them and give them spanking red uniforms. But those that stay—" He stopped outside a large canvas tent. "Those that stay know in their hearts we must be free. They know that for the future of their children and their children's children they must fight. Their hearts are what keep them going, even when their bellies are empty and their feet are bare." He lifted the tent flap.
Leah took one last look at the camp and then ducked inside.
Lieutenant Ross introduced her to several officers just sitting down to eat. Harrison was already there. He nodded. They had decided to simply say he had escorted her here from the Tidewater and leave the explanation at that. Leah tried not to think about what would happen when they finally found Edmund. What would he say when he saw Harrison? What would he do?
Leah didn't know that she cared.
She took a camp stool beside Harrison. He slipped his hand under the table and brushed it across her knee. She gave him a quick, grateful smile.
"Good morning, Mistress Beale, Mr. DeNay. I hope I haven't kept you waiting long." A man with Captain's insignia in a neat but threadbare blue uniform swept into the tent. The other officers stood and saluted. "At ease, gentlemen."
The men sat.
"Let me introduce myself. I'm Captain Mitchell." He took the canvas camp stool at the head of the table to the left of Leah. A private standing at the rear of the tent began to serve up wooden dishes of some sort of cornmeal gruel.
"I appreciate your taking the time to see me, sir," Leah said. "I understand how busy you must be. I understand the army is still moving south."
"I'll be frank with you, Mistress Beale. You shouldn't have come here. I doubt your husband would approve. An army camp is no place for a woman such as yourself."
"Nor was it for a boy, was it, sir?"
He dropped his gaze to the wooden bowl the private had placed in front of him. He picked up a bent pewter spoon. "I assure you that had your husband known there was any danger, he would never have brought your son along. I understand in fact that he was in the process of sending him home when they were captured."
"How good of him." Leah took one look at the bowl of mush the private set in front of her and she pushed it away. How could she eat when men outside these thin canvas walls were starving? "Look Captain, I want to know what happened to my son and husband, and I want to know what you're doing about it."
Harrison, who had sat silently to this point cleared his throat. "Mistress Beale is obviously distraught."
"Distraught!" Leah glared at Harrison. "You make me sound like some ninny!" She looked back at Captain Mitchell. "I'm not distraught. I'm furious! Damned furious! My son was captured by enemy forces, by savages, more than a month ago, and I have been told nothing except that the army is dealing with the problem." She slapped her hand on the rickety table. "Now I want to know what the hell is going on!"
Captain Mitchell patiently put down his spoon. "I understand your frustration."
"No, you do not understand! You couldn't possibly!"
He held up his hand. "Only two days ago we had a lead as to the whereabouts of Captain Beale. I intended to have a message sent to you just as soon as we gained more information."
"So, have you dispatched men?"
He averted his gaze. "Mistress Beale, we're short of munitions, food and clothing. Cornwallis is on our tails and winter is setting in fast."
"Have you dispatched troops or not?"
He looked at her. "No, we have not."
"Then do it! Today!"
He tried to cover her hand with his but she snatched it away. "Mistress Beale, you need to go home to Delaware where you'll be safe and let the army take care of army business."
Leah could feel a panic rising in her chest. The Captain thought they were dead. He thought Edmund and her son were dead. That's why they hadn't sent anyone. They thought it was too late.
She slammed her fist on the table. "I will not go home without my son!" She pointed an accusing finger. "I will have my son if only it's to wrap his body in sheets and carry him home to rest. B
ut I will have him back. I will have him!"
Harrison squeezed Leah's knee beneath the table. "Captain, could you tell us where they were last sighted?" he asked calmly.
"I cannot. I'm sorry Mister DeNay but that information is confidential."
Harrison leapt up so quickly that he startled Leah. Before she knew what was happening Harrison had leaned across the table and grabbed Captain Mitchell by the lapel of his uniform and yanked him up out of his seat. The camp stool went clattering to the floor. "Where, sir? Tell us where!"
The Captain was so shocked that all he could do was stammer. "Fort . . . Fort DePounce on . . . on the Hudson."
Harrison let go, giving him a little shove. "Will you or will you not send men?"
"Of . . . of course we will send men. Captain Beale was . . . is a soldier under my command. We always take care of our own." Captain Mitchell smoothed the lapel of his uniform.
Leah stood. "We're going too."
"Impossible! We cannot endanger civilians."
"This is my son and my husband we're talking about here, Captain, and if you think—"
Harrison grabbed her by the arm and began to lead her toward the doorway. "The Captain is right, Leah. It's not your place to go."
"Not my place! They've known where William is and they haven't sent anyone after him! Harrison they—"
Harrison leaned and whispered harshly in her ear. "Just shut up and step outside the tent."
"I will not—"
"Just once, Leah, do as I bid!" He pushed her through the Opening in the tent. "Just wait tor me out here!"
Harrison stepped back inside. "I apologize for losing my temper, sir," he told the Captain.
Mitchell pulled off his hat and tossed it onto the table. He set his stool upright and sat down again. The other officers still watched the two men. "Look, DeNay. You know the truth of the matter here." He sounded weary. "I just couldn't say it to her face."
"They're dead?"
"Got to be." He ran his fingers through his short cropped hair. "We can't win them all. Our troops are dragging. The Brits have got us on the run and we've got to focus on making it through the winter. We could lose the war right here if we don't take care." He sighed. "We just couldn't gain information fast enough on Beale's capture. We were in the midst of evacuating Manhattan when he was captured. He slipped through the cracks. I've got no excuse other than thousands of hungry men fighting for their lives and the lives of their children. They're my only excuse—men who are my responsibility."
Harrison looked away. "So do you truthfully intend to send men into the fort?"
"The dispatch goes out this morning. I'll have a regiment from further north investigate. I honestly intended to request a search."
"I see."
"But you can't go. It's impossible for you and Mistress Beale to go in."
"I understand."
"I suggest you take her home, DeNay, and provide what comfort you can. I'll send what information I know just as soon as I gain it."
Harrison nodded. He had what information he needed. He saw no point to push the man any further. "Thank you for speaking with us. I'll see to Mistress Beale."
Captain Mitchell picked up his pewter spoon again and began to eat. "If you'd like an escort home, I can provide one. Of course I can't spare any active duty men, but I have several six weekers going home to Delaware tomorrow."
"I thank you for the offer, but no thank you." Harrison tipped his wool cocked hat. He didn't know how he felt about this war. The Shawnee did not believe in war. But he knew his heart went out to this man and all the others in the camp. They were fighting for what they believed in because they felt they had no other choice, and for that he had to respect them.
Captain Mitchell returned his attention to his breakfast and Harrison left the tent. Outside he found Leah pacing in the mud.
"What do you mean we're not going?" she hissed. "Of course we're going to the fort! William may still be there! I don't care what they say or what they think, I know he's alive. I won't go home without him Harrison. I swear by all that's holy I won't."
Harrison yearned to reach out and take Leah in his arms. She was so frightened. He could see it in her clear blue eyes. He could hear it in her voice. But there were soldiers coming and going everywhere now. Instead, he took her arm and led her between the tents. The sun was rising full in the sky and melting the snow. The camp smelled of moldy tents, black mud, damp firewood, and desperation. "I didn't say we wouldn't go. What I said was that I agreed you didn't belong riding in with the army." He turned her around, forcing her to face him and look him in the eye. "We ride into that fort and we're all liable to be massacred!"
Leah lowered her gaze.
Harrison went on. "We go in alone Leah, ahead of them if we can. We'll find out for ourselves if Edmund and the boy have ever been held there, if they still are."
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
"Leah, you have to remember I am not the enemy. And you have to learn to hold your tongue. Here in this camp full of civilized men you'll only anger, but another time, another place and you could lose your life for unchecked words. Your son could lose his life."
She bit down on her lower lip.
He didn't mean to hurt, or to make her more fearful than she already was, but she had to understand. If she couldn't take care in what she said, he'd have to leave her behind. He'd not let her risk her own life out of foolishness or hot-headed pride.
"You're right," she said after a moment. "I know better. It's just that I feel so helpless." She looked up at him. "And I hate it, Harrison. I hate this feeling that I'm doing nothing while William is out there somewhere calling for me, wondering where I am and why I haven't come for him."
He reached out and brushed a lock of her bright red hair off her cheek. Propriety be damned. "You are doing something, Leah. You've already done more than anyone else would have."
She let her hands fall to her sides. "So now what?"
"Now we pack off like we're headed south. Then we double back and head north."
"But you don't know where this fort is, or how far."
"We'll find it. I was a scout for a few years. I don't know the Hudson well, but we'll manage."
Her gaze searched his. "We will, won't we? We'll find William and we'll bring him home."
Harrison couldn't bring himself to tell her how slim the chances were the boy and father were still alive. Not if they'd been taken to one of the forts. Most likely Edmund had been tortured for information and killed weeks ago. The boy killed as well. But he couldn't say it. Of course there was always the chance they were still alive. Harrison had to give them that chance. He had to give Leah that chance.
He dropped his hand to her shoulder. "Let's go. We've got a few miles to cross before we reach the Hudson."
Little Joseph gave a hoot, slapping his hand on his thigh with glee as he passed the bottle of bourbon on to the next man.
Kolheek grinned at the joke though he thought the Mohawk crude and stupid. His men laughed with him.
They'd arrive at Fort DePounce on the Hudson this morning. Kolheek smiled to himself. With the flintlocks and munitions the English had given him they were now well armed. And the spirit of good luck had been with him. Two days ago he and his men had come upon a war party hired by the English. In exchange for a few bowls of tobacco and a stolen flask of white man's liquor, Kolheek had learned that the white man, Beale, and his son had been take to a fort called DePounce.
Now he was here. Though this was supposed to be an English held fort, the few redcoats inside seemed to be content to let the Indians run it while they drank, played cards, and tumbled with their whores. The Indians inside were mostly Iroquois; a few Mohawk, a Huron or two, a man who claimed his grandmother was Mohican, even a handful of Shawnee renegades. They had accepted Kolheek and his men into the group with few questions. They were all fools, much of what they had learned as red men washed away by the sins of the white.
Kolheek
found that the group of red men spoke in a mixture of English, Iroquois, and Algonquian. Once the whiskey began to flow there seemed to be little trouble with communication. Kolheek had learned that there were several prisoners being held in horse stalls at the far end of the fort, but so far, he hadn't been able to find out if any of them were Beale.
The man who sat across from him, Little Joseph, was a jailor for the English here at the fort and seemed to be in charge of the redmen. Kolheek guessed that with another pass of the bottle, Little Joseph would give out the information without ever knowing he had said a word.
Kolheek tossed a stick into the campfire listening to one of his men speak of raping a young girl at the farm they'd raided the previous week. Kolheek's thoughts went back to his village, another time, another place . . .
Images of Rain-Of-Spring flashed in his head. The curve of her jaw, the feel of her hair beneath his fingertips, the taste of her mouth on his . . .
He had loved her.
But she had scorned him.
She had called him second best to the half-breed Harrison, a man he had called his friend. Even when Harrison had refused her and Kolheek had offered to marry her again, she had refused him.
That was why he had had to do it, of course. To teach her a lesson. To teach them both a lesson.
Kolheek opened his eyes. One of his men was speaking to him.
"Little Joseph here, he tells this man that a few weeks ago he sold a white boy to Mohawk."
John Moon's words tapped Kolheek's attention, but he pretended not to be too interested. "A boy? Where would he get a boy?" Kolheek snatched the bottle of whiskey from John Moon and tossed it to Little Joseph.
Little Joseph cackled. "The redcoats brought him. A prisoner."
"The redcoats take boys as prisoners?" Kolheek scoffed. "Have they no greater adversaries?"
Little Joseph took a swig and spat into the fire. The other Indian howled as the liquor burst into flames and the fire swelled. "His father. They brought in his father, but the man was a coward."
Whispered Promise Page 14
