Guns of Liberty (23 page)

“So I no longer even have that hold over you.” The major sighed. “Well, ’tis for the best. I would have felt like a knave betraying your trust and not keeping my part of our bargain.”

“What do you say now?”

“Only that the day Brian Farley McQueen was arrested, his treason was obvious, you know, still warm from the forge. Well, your father put up quite a struggle. He was killed trying to escape.”

Daniel doubled over, as if struck; for a brief moment his eyes squeezed shut as the enormity of this revelation sunk in. Meeks reached for one of the saddle pistols holstered in front of him by his right leg. Daniel glanced up and dropped a hand to one of his Quakers. Meeks shrugged but didn’t try for the horse pistol. He did not need to; it was plain he had already wounded Daniel, shaken him to the core.

“You’re lying,” Daniel managed to say through clenched teeth.

“Not hardly. On my honor—”

“You have no honor!”

Meeks did not intend to debate the issue. Better, he thought, to strike at the wound again. “Your father is dead. But learning of his death and the circumstances of your estrangement from acquaintances who did not share your father’s seditious tendencies, I thought to capitalize on them. You have never failed, Danny boy, to impress me with your daring and skill and quick mind. I thought you were an excellent choice to help me carry out my orders.” Meeks pulled the silk kerchief from the sleeve of his coat and dabbed at his nose. “I see I was wrong.”

It took every last ounce of strength to hold himself in check. Daniel wanted to drag the Englishman from his horse and strangle him, break his neck, cut the black heart from his body. Meeks had shown himself to be a liar, yet there was something in the man’s voice that caused Daniel to believe him. Perhaps it was not so much the major as knowing his father. Brian Farley McQueen had been a volatile, proud, unyielding man. He had loved his son and yet so rarely had expressed it. Only looking back had Daniel at last been able to see and understand the little ways his father had demonstrated his true feelings for his son. Brian McQueen would never have gone with the British soldiers without a fight. And he would have fought to the death.

“Now, then, it seems we are at an impasse. You have something I want. I have something you want,” Meeks said. “I’ll make it simple. I shall start Kate and her simpleton brother toward the barn. You will allow Woodbine to ride out to meet them. Of course, if you do not send Woodbine out, I shall have my men open fire on the girl. Her life is in your hands. Simple?”

“Yes,” Daniel said hoarsely. He looked toward the hills, hoping in vain to find the Schraners and other patriots riding to the rescue. But all he saw was a hawk circling above the trees. There was no one coming. He would have to defend the farm with his army of an untried youth and two middle-aged women. Despite the pain of his loss he suddenly laughed aloud. It was the one reaction that caught Meeks completely off guard, and he looked at Daniel with renewed wariness as one watches the mad. He slowly had his horse retreat a few paces.

“But know this,” Daniel said. “If not today, Josiah Meeks, then the next, I will kill you.” Daniel turned the black mare and rode back the way he had come.

The time for talk had ended.

K
ATE AND LOYAL STARTED
down the farm road at the same time Nathaniel Woodbine rode away from Daniel’s side. The merchant was no longer tied, but Daniel had ordered him to hold his mount to a steady walk until he had reached the halfway point and crossed paths with Josiah Meeks’s prisoners.

“Keep your rifle on him,” Daniel called to the loft, and Tim Pepperidge answered with a wave of his hand. While there were a few moments left Daniel hurried back into the barn and found Sister Hope standing by the wagon and Sister Eve at the rear of the barn, her blunderbuss at the ready. Sister Hope was seated on the back steps of the Sicilian wagon with her faithful Gideon at her side.

“There’s still time to get out of here. You could miss a lot of trouble.”

“Trouble and I are old friends.” Sister Hope scratched Gideon behind the ears. Her face took on a worldlywise expression. “Pity the only man I’ve ever known who has never told me a lie turns out to be a dog. But I have my life here among the Daughters, and it is a good life. If it must end, then let it end here.” She rolled up her gray sleeves and unfolded a blanket to immerse in the water barrel. If the barn caught fire, Sister Hope-Deferred-Maketh-the-Heart-Sick was ready. Daniel had to smile; he knew he’d get the same response from Sister Eve. He looked down the length of the barn. The big-boned woman in gray by the rear door waved to him, and Daniel returned the gesture. He rechecked the guns in his belt and crossed back to the front of the barn.

The Tories had positioned themselves as if awaiting the order to charge the barn. No doubt they would as soon as Woodbine was clear. Daniel watched Kate and Loyal draw close to Woodbine. They had maintained as even pace, matching the merchant’s horse stride for stride.

Kate could feel the eyes of the raiders boring into her back. Meeks had not seemed to mind losing her. Perhaps he intended to capture her again before the day was out. Well, he wouldn’t take her without a fight.

“Kate?” Loyal drew abreast of his sister.

“Don’t worry, Loyal.”

“My little sister, always watching out for big brother.”

“I haven’t minded.” Kate studied the round-shouldered, balding man who as a boy seemed so bold and capable. Suddenly she realized he was behaving quite lucidly and was aware of his surroundings.

“I shall always love you,” Loyal said. “I think Daniel McQueen is a good man. Stand by him.”

“That blow on your skull did no more than raise a lump. You’ve been pretending all this time. Why?”

“A fool is never taken seriously. A fool isn’t even searched.” With that, Loyal doffed his tricorn hat and slapped it across the rump of Kate’s horse while loosing a bloodcurdling scream.

“Loyal!” Too late. Kate held on tight as her gelding galloped full out. Loyal did the same to his own mount and soon was racing pell-mell over the wheel-rutted path leading to the barn. A few yards ahead, Woodbine, sensing some kind of betrayal, urged his own horse to a gallop. The prisoners rapidly closed on one another.

Kate, leaning low on the neck of her racing steed, only caught a blurred glimpse of her mother’s former lover as the merchant sped past. Loyal quickly closed the gap, but at the last possible moment he veered his own mount, tugged viciously on the reins, and brought his horse in front of Woodbine’s. The animals collided and went down in a flurry of flashing hooves.

“Treachery!” Josiah Meeks roared. “Black treachery! Ride them down! Burn the place, I say. Burn it to the ground!” He drove his bootheels into the flanks of his charger and the animal bolted forward. Black Tolbert and Will Chaney took off after the major. Padraich O’Flynn looked about at the men drawn up to either side of him.

“Well, men, it’s a fight we came for, and a fight we have. And merry, but I’ll not have the major say we held back! Come on, brave lads, and earn the silver you have been paid!”

As one, Woodbine’s militia charged across the meadow, torches aflame, rifles primed, sabers gleaming in the sun. There was not a faint heart among them. To a man they were eager to fight.

“Oh, God,” Daniel muttered, as Loyal sent Kate charging toward him. “Oh, God,” he repeated as Kate’s brother slammed into Woodbine and the two riders went down. Daniel grabbed the rifle closest to him and ran out of the barn as Josiah Meeks and his raiders broke ranks and began their attack in a ragged line.

Kate had lost her reins and had caught a handful of mane; she held on for dear life. The animal headed straight for the barnyard and was not about to stop or turn back, however desperate Kate’s efforts to return to her brother’s side. Daniel had to place himself in the path of the frightened beast about fifty feet from the barn. The gelding tried to cut by him, but Daniel caught up the reins and forced the animal to slow its pace enough for Kate to slide out of the saddle. She started back the way she had come. Daniel caught her by the arm.

“Let me go!”

“No. You can’t help him,” Daniel said. Loyal and Woodbine were locked in a desperate struggle. “If Meeks catches us out in the open we won’t stand a chance!” Some of the oncoming riflemen loosed a volley. Lead smacked into the walls of the barn, dug gouts of earth around the struggling men, and fanned the air inches from Daniel and Kate. Daniel snapped off a shot with his own rifle, tossed it aside, and half led, half dragged Kate the remaining ten yards to the momentary safety of the barn.

Woodbine struggled up out of the road and spat a mouthful of blood and dirt.

“What are you doing? Fool, you could have killed us both!” Loyal dove into the smaller man and knocked him over on his back.

“A fool, yes, but clever enough to hide a knife.” Loyal snatched a knife from his boot top as he forced Woodbine down. The merchant saw the glint of sunlight on the steel blade and panicked. He twisted and turned and flailed.

“Tell me about the cider. I make the best hard cider in the colonies. Our friend, our betrayer!”

“I’ve always been your friend,” Woodbine shrieked as he managed to block the knife in its descent.

Loyal heard the drumming hoofbeats of the approaching horses. Men with guns and torches were riding him down. Rifles and pistols blossomed black smoke. In that instant of distraction, Nathaniel Woodbine gave one last herculean effort to save his life. He grabbed Loyal by the scruff of his waistcoat and pulled. The merchant rolled loose, knocked Loyal aside, and rose up on his knees as gunfire thundered over the meadow and rifle balls filled the air. But he was free, damn it. Free!

There came a sickening whack and a crunch of bone. The merchant’s head jerked to the left as blood spilled from a ghastly wound just above his ear. Woodbine dropped forward onto Loyal’s chest, killed by his own would-be rescuers.

Daniel stood in the shadow of the barn. The summer air was thick with the smell of straw and manure and horseflesh. It wasn’t the most romantic of places, yet there was so much he wanted to say and so little time to say it. Balls splintered the wood as the Tory raiders charged the barn.

“Daniel, I have to help my brother,” Kate pleaded.

Daniel took a rifle and shoved it into her arms. “It’s too late.”

Kate staggered into the doorway. Sister Hope hurried to her side.

“Poor dear. There’s a love,” the older woman said, putting an arm around Kate.

Back in the road, one horse was down. Loyal and Woodbine were an unmoving pair sprawled upon the ground.

“No. Oh, please, no,” Kate cried weakly, her eyes filled with tears. But she did not break. A dark and angry expression transformed her beauty into a mask of rage. She raised the rifle and fired in the direction of the oncoming Tories. She lay the rifle aside, started to reach for another, and changed her mind as Daniel loosed a shot that dropped one Tory from horseback. The raider’s left foot caught in the stirrup and the man was dragged, screaming, across the meadow and toward the woods.

“I’ll keep them loaded,” Kate shouted, and poured a charge down her rifle barrel, following with patch and ball that she rammed home.

Daniel lifted another rifle to his shoulder, fired, methodically replaced it with another. From the loft, Pepperidge worked through the rifles he’d carried up from the wagon. But he was hurrying his shots and sacrificing accuracy. Still, he accounted for one more kill, a sun-darkened Welshman who dropped his torch and clutched at his chest as he rolled from horseback.

Daniel sensed the trouble before he heard Pepperidge’s groan. The Highland rebel ran to the center of the barn as young Pepperidge dropped to the floor of the loft and rolled over the edge. He managed to catch hold of the top rung of the ladder and break his fall, though his agonized cry rose to the rafters. Daniel rushed to his side and lowered him to the ground. The front of his shirt was sticky as blood seeped from his punctured right shoulder.

“I’ll tend him.” Sister Hope knelt close by, tore a swath from the hem of her skirt, and applied pressure to the wound.

“Am I going to die?” Pepperidge said through clenched teeth.

“Heaven’s no,” Sister Hope chided. “Imagine you’ll live long enough to snatch our Sister Mercy from the nest.” Her eyes were wise and knowing as she beamed down at the wounded lad. He looked surprised. “Silly one, did you think you invented those feelings? I may be old and thick as yesterday’s pudding, but I’m just as much a woman as I ever was.” She winked and lowered her voice. “Maybe even more so.”

Daniel trotted back to the doorway, where he paused to fish a tinder box from his belt pouch. He caught his breath, then darted through the doorway and scrambled to the twin trails of gunpowder he’d drawn upon the ground. The Tories were forty yards away and coming at a dead run. He could make out Chaney and Black Tolbert, but Meeks appeared to be lagging behind now, allowing the raiding party to carry the attack. Daniel worked the strike box and ignited the powder trails, then darted through a hail of lead to the safety of the barn. He stumbled, and Kate, fearing him wounded, ran to the doorway to help drag him to safety. An enemy ball missed her by inches. Daniel waved her aside and scrambled to his feet. He caught the startled woman and forced her into the nearest stall. They tripped and fell, landed on the piled straw in a tangle of arms and legs. Outside, two dancing columns of smoke sputtered toward the kegs while the Tory raiders closed the gap. Thirty yards—twenty—fifteen …

“What are you doing? Have you lost your senses?” Kate blurted out, spewing straw and trying to extricate herself. “Daniel McQueen, are you mad? This is hardly the time for a roll in the hay!”

One explosion followed by a second thunderous clap shook the walls and blew a thick cloud of dust through the open doorway. Beyond the walls, horses neighed in terror and human voices rose in cries of agony.

Josiah Meeks had seen the powder trails and shouted to his men to alter their attack. Had he been in the lead he might have turned them out of harm’s way. Then again, he might have been killed in the explosions. Even a hundred feet from the powder kegs he was knocked off his horse. But being an expert horseman as well as a seasoned soldier, the Englishman managed to keep a tight grip on the reins of his horse. The animal tried to bolt and pawed the air. Meeks tightened his hold and let his weight bring the animal’s head down. He’d underestimated Daniel.