The Blooding. James McGee

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СКАЧАТЬ recall, we were conducting a situation report. Captain Anderson?”

      A dark-haired, thin-faced officer dressed in the uniform of a Grenadier stepped forward.

      “Colonel?”

      “The patrols that were sent to retrieve our people should have returned by now. How many civilians have we collected?”

      “By my count, one hundred and fifty-two, Colonel.”

      The colonel looked towards Wyatt. “Better amend that, Captain. Make the total one hundred and fifty-three.”

      “Yes, sir. We’ve also acquired thirty-two Negro servants.”

      “Very good. Prisoners?”

      Captain Anderson consulted his figures. “Twenty-seven in total, mostly civilians …”

      There was a pause, then Anderson continued “… including Sammons and his brood.”

      A nerve flickered along the colonel’s jawline. “Release those that are too young or infirm. We gain nothing by subjecting them to the rigours of the return march.”

      “And Sammons?” Anderson enquired tentatively.

      Several officers exchanged glances. After the colonel’s escape and following his wife’s departure from the valley the mansion and grounds had been seized by the Tryon County Commissioners, who’d appointed local Patriots to act as caretakers until the property could be sold. The Sammons clan, former neighbours of the colonel, had been selected for the task. The patriarch, Sampson Sammons, along with his three sons, had been among the first prisoners captured by the raiding party upon its arrival at the Hall, where the colonel, in a deliberate display of bravado, had set up his temporary headquarters.

      “You can let the old man go; Thomas, too. Jacob and Frederick aren’t going anywhere save to Canada with us.” The colonel smiled. “The walk will do them good.”

      The comment drew satisfied grins all round. Jacob Sammons was the Commissioners’ chief overseer at the Hall. His face, when he’d realized who’d come to interrupt his slumbers in the dead of night, had been a picture to behold.

      For the family’s part in the occupation of the estate, the father would remain free to reflect on his impudence on the understanding that two of his sons were to be marched as prisoners to a Canadian stockade by the very man whose property they had usurped.

      Justice had been served.

      “Yes, sir …” The captain paused once more. “And the militia captain, Veeder?”

      “Release him, too. He’s given me his word that, if we let him go now, he’ll look upon it as the first half of an exchange. He’s promised me the Americans will reciprocate and free one of our own: Lieutenant Singleton. You may recall he was wounded and taken prisoner during the Stanwix engagement.”

      Anderson frowned. “You trust Captain Veeder’s word, sir?”

      “He gave it as an officer, and I knew the family in happier times so I see no reason to doubt him. He comes from good stock. His brother’s a lieutenant colonel in the county militia. I think it’s a risk worth taking if we can get Singleton back. Three years’ incarceration is enough for any man.”

      Still looking sceptical, Anderson managed to force a nod. “Very good, sir.”

      Sir John turned. “It would appear, gentlemen, that in the light of what we’ve accomplished, our enterprise has been rather successful, though a number of Captain McDonell’s raiding parties have yet to report back – correct?”

      “Yes, sir,” McDonell said.

      The colonel looked up to where the smoke clouds were staining the eastern sky. “The evidence would indicate that they’ve been performing their duties admirably. In which case it’s time we started to organize our withdrawal. I’d hate to think we’ve outstayed our welcome.”

      The officers smiled dutifully.

      The colonel picked up his hat from the table and brushed it down. “Prepare to dismantle the camp. Also, the civilians need to be advised of their responsibilities. It took us nine days to get here from Champlain. We’ll need to step up the pace if we’re to get back to the rendezvous point without mishap. Our enemies may have slept through our arrival, but they know we’re here now and will, I suspect, be most anxious to make our acquaintance. Captain Duncan, how many fresh horses have we acquired?”

      “Sixty-seven, Colonel.”

      “Very good. We can put them to use as baggage animals and as mounts for the elderly and the youngest children. The ablest of the ladies and the older children will have to walk with the men. You’d better tell them they should wear suitable attire. They’ve been told to travel light, I take it? See to it they adhere to that. Anything they can’t carry gets left behind. No exceptions.”

      He turned to a stocky officer with salt-and-pepper hair. “As to the troops: Captain Scott, your regulars are to act as escort. Captain Leake’s Independents and the other irregulars are to deploy as individual commanders see fit. The same goes for your riflemen, Captain Friedrich, if you’d be so kind. We will have use of them, should a delaying tactic be required.”

      A slim, officious-looking officer, with hair so blond it was almost white, dressed in the uniform of a Hessian Jaeger, inclined his head. “At your command, Colonel.”

      “Good. Well, unless there’s anything else …? No? Excellent. In that case, let’s get to it. Dismissed.” Sir John turned abruptly. “That includes you, Lieutenant.”

      “Yes, sir,” Wyatt said quickly, though there had been drollness in the colonel’s tone rather than rebuke. “Leaving now.”

      He paused, struck by the expression on the colonel’s face. Sir John continued to hold the Ranger’s gaze before giving a small, almost imperceptible nod. Acknowledging the unspoken message, Wyatt summoned Tewanias to him. With the Mohawk at his shoulder, he headed back to the tether line.

      “Why can’t I stay with you?”

      The boy was mounted on his horse. The dog lay stretched out on the grass alongside.

      The question took the Ranger by surprise, as did the look of apprehension in the blue-grey eyes. It was the first time the boy had shown anything approaching trepidation or doubt.

      “Colonel’s orders. He wants all civilians to travel together.”

      A frown creased the boy’s face. “Why?”

      “He wants to keep you safe.”

      “Can’t you do that?”

      Too many damned questions, Wyatt thought, for a twelve-year-old. Though he wasn’t sure if that was, in fact, the boy’s age. As with the name, he hadn’t bothered to enquire. It hadn’t seemed relevant. It still didn’t, not really, because there had been little doubt the boy was older than his years would suggest. But then, Wyatt thought, taking a man’s life could add years to a person; it didn’t matter if they were twelve, twenty-five or seventy. He remembered how he’d felt, the first time.

      Wyatt СКАЧАТЬ