Billy Green Saves the Day (6 page)

Billy and Levi exchanged shocked glances. “There must be thousands of them,” Billy muttered.

“That's not a regiment — it's an army!” Levi countered under his breath.

“Let's take a closer look!” Billy suggested, racing off before Levi could stop him.

The tail end of the American column struggled to march in the sloppy muck. Soldiers fought to lift their legs with each step as the foot-deep mud sucked their boots off. Several men slipped and fell head first into the sludge, but nobody laughed as the searing sun drained everyone's energy.

At the rear soldiers tried to heave a string of artillery and wagons trapped in the mud. Another group strained to lug heavy tree trunks strewn across the path as Chandler and Winder watched atop their horses.

“You're all unfit to wear the uniform of the United States Army!” Winder shouted.

“That will be enough!” Chandler snapped, wiping his sweaty face with a forearm.

“If our men can't even remove the enemy's barricades in retreat, how will they fight when we find them?”

“I don't think our soldiers' abilities are in question, but perhaps yours are.” Chandler turned to a nearby brigade grappling with a huge tree trunk. “Good work, gentlemen!”

One soldier laboured to pry a wagon wheel from the ooze, but suddenly noticed something far off. He squinted to see better and then a look of terror disfigured his face. Before he could say anything an arrow sliced through his chest, causing him to step back awkwardly and fall dead. The other troops immediately dropped what they were doing and scrambled to take up arms and fire blindly in all directions.

At the top of a hill John Norton signalled his band of Indians to fire their muskets continuously while others launched arrows. Several American soldiers were instantly killed as the wounded shrieked in agony trying to remove lethal missiles from their limbs.

Chandler's and Winder's horses bucked at the cacophony as both fought to maintain their mounts. “I suggest we send our sharpshooters!” Winder cried.

“No!” Chandler said. “We can't spare anyone. Besides, the Indians are too experienced in guerrilla warfare.”

“They've harassed us ever since we left Fort George! Do
something
!”

“I'm in command, Mr. Winder. We're going to need all the manpower we can get to fight at Burlington Heights. Take the point.”

Winder spat and rode off. “Incompetent idiot! He's going to get us all killed!”

At the base of the escarpment, hidden by the dense brush, Billy and Levi watched as the last of the American line marched off.

“We have to warn everybody,” Billy whispered.

“Let's have a little fun first,” Levi suggested, picking up a stick.

“What?” Billy asked, but Levi was already gone. Billy focused on a lone infantryman sitting on a log. The soldier removed his boot and winced at the sight of an open blister on his foot. He wrapped the injury with a piece of cloth just as Levi stealthily came up behind him and whacked him across the backside. The soldier let out a loud yelp before falling face first into the mud as Levi vanished into the woodland.

At the vanguard of the American forces the Indian assault was finished. Winder surveyed the dozens of casualties as the able-bodied began digging graves and provided medical aid. One frightened teenage soldier knelt beside a tree with his head in his hands and sobbed uncontrollably.

Winder dismounted and dragged the youngster to his feet before slamming him against a tree. “Pull yourself together, man! The callow soldier wept even harder as Winder angrily drew his pistol. “Coward! Stop it!”

The soldier slowly raised a trembling hand and pointed at a deceased infantryman, the body still standing, arrows pinning it to a wagon. The crying soldier sank into Winder's arms. “He's my brother.”

Winder's face softened as he held the boy tightly. “It's okay, son. You're going to fight and avenge your brother's death.”

“I ... I can't ... go on, sir.”

“Get on your feet, or I'll slay you right here!” Winder suddenly shouted, then yanked the young man to his feet. The general gestured to a group of other men. “I want you to move on ahead and confine the settlers to their homes. I don't want any of them to warn the British at Burlington Heights. And take whatever food and ammunition you can find.”

As Billy and Levi scrambled back up the escarpment, an American soldier fired his musket at them. The bullet whizzed over their heads, and they laughed as they swiftly climbed out of range. While they ran, Billy glanced at his brother. “I think I can forget about joining the army. From here on we're all soldiers.”

“We should split up and warn as many people as we can,” Levi said, winking. “See you soon.” He bolted toward a patch of evergreens.

“Levi?” Billy cried, and Levi stopped. “Were you really going to stop me from joining the army?”

Levi grinned. “No, but be careful.” Then he disappeared.

“You, too,” Billy said as he headed in the other direction.

CHAPTER FOUR

B
reathless, Billy raced through the bush and halted at the base of the lane leading to the Foote farm. His father's voice echoed through his head — thoughts of right and wrong, opinions about their romantic relationship. Was warning Sarah the wise thing to do? How would her father react? Billy's dilemma caused him to turn back, but then he stopped and headed for the house again. “Sarah!” he shouted.

Sarah appeared on the porch of her house. “Turn back, Billy!”

They met in the middle of the path and embraced.

“The Americans are coming,” he said, then kissed her as he brushed aside her hair. “Leave with me now.”

“Our troops are here!” she cried excitedly, looking over her shoulder.

“What do you mean,
our
troops?”

“Surrender, Billy. I don't want you to get hurt.” She tried to pull him toward the house. “We can be together if you surrender.”

Confused, Billy moved away from her. “I can't do that. Why can't you just come with me?”

“My father needs me. I can make him understand about us, but you have to give this up. We ... the Americans are going to take over. It's better that you accept that and co-operate.” She caressed his face just as her father and several U.S. soldiers emerged from around the corner of the house. “Billy, please, listen to me!”

“I'm sorry, Sarah.” Billy dashed for the shelter of the trees as the soldiers took aim and fired. He ducked as the musket balls pierced the air, ricocheting off the trees and earth as he jumped over a ridge. Sarah screamed when Billy tumbled down the steep embankment and finally came to rest, bruised and dazed. He gathered his senses and painfully heaved himself up.

Samuel Foote and the soldiers rapidly descended the hill, unaware Billy was only a few yards away. Foote stopped and held up his hand to halt the others before taking a few guarded steps. His eyes searched the area and found Billy staring back, cowering behind a fallen log. Foote loaded his pistol as Billy watched in horror. Sarah's father took deliberate aim but then slowly lowered the weapon.

“It was just a rabbit,” he told the soldiers. The Americans started back as Foote moved closer to Billy. “We're even now,” he muttered at Billy, tucking the pistol inside his pants. “Next time I'll fire.”

In disbelief Billy watched as Foote scuttled off to join the soldiers. “Sarah ... oh, Sarah, what are we going to do?” he whispered to himself.

Isaac Corman sat at his kitchen table inspecting his rifle. His pretty blond wife, Keziah, looked on anxiously. “We don't even know if the Americans are coming to Stoney Creek,” she said nervously as her husband frowned at her. “You were wounded once. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

Isaac chuckled. “I'm a patriot, not a coward.”

“Nobody has ever questioned your courage, just you.”

His grin vanished. “What's that supposed to mean?”

She kissed him on the forehead. “Let others fight. You've done your duty.”

“One battle doesn't make a man, Keziah.” He began polishing the musket with a rag.

Keziah sat across from him and took his hands. “You promised me you wouldn't fight again after Queenston Heights.” She tenderly stroked his fingers. “I want you to keep that promise.”

“Fort George has fallen. Do you understand what that means, Keziah? The British Army will need all the men they can get just to keep this country free. If the Yankees get any farther, the whole war is lost. I have to fight.” He caressed her face, but Keziah moved away from him and folded her arms. “I'm leaving tonight,” he told her, setting the gun aside. Isaac started for the door and waited for her response, but none came. He sighed. “I have work to finish.”

Keziah threw her arms up in frustration. “That's it? Proclaim you're going to fight and walk away?”

“What would you like me to do? Do you think this is easy for me?”

“What am
I
supposed to do? Wait until I hear you were killed and then move on with my life? I know so many women like that. I don't want to be one of them. They change ... they have no soul left. You can see it in their eyes. They're lost ... they're dead, but still alive. I don't want to be lost like that.”

Frustrated, Isaac kicked the door hard. “Just what exactly would you like me to do?”

She clenched her fists. “Stay alive. Stay with me. I have as much say in your life as you do.”

“Really?”

Keziah fought back tears. “I work as hard as you do.

I'm always there for you.”

“And I'm not?”

“Not when you leave me to go and fight. I know it's hard to go into battle, but it's harder still to watch the man you love go off to fight in a battle and not know what's happening.” She embraced him. “Please, I'm begging you to stay.”

Isaac pushed her away. “I'm not going to argue with you about this anymore. I suggest you start dinner.”

“Make it yourself! Why should I cook for a dead man?” Keziah flopped into a chair as Isaac slammed the door behind him. She closed her eyes and began to weep again, but suddenly stood when she heard the sound of horses. Keziah moved to the window and spotted a contingent of American cavalry approaching the property.

Isaac was about to hammer a fence post but stopped and watched as an American officer cantered toward him. “I'm Major Thomas of the U.S. Army. Indians have been harassing us ever since we came into this wretched country, and I want to know where they're camped.” The young major wiped sweat from his moustache, but Isaac ignored him and resumed working. Irritated, Thomas dismounted and spun Isaac around. “I'm speaking to you, sir! Where are the Indians?”

Swinging the hammer hard onto the post, Isaac said, “I don't know and I don't care.”

Thomas withdrew his sword. “I demand an answer!”

Isaac lifted the hammer again. “It's painfully obvious your parents never taught you any manners.”

“What do you do for a living, sir?”

“I'm a blacksmith, but right now I'm mending some fence posts, in case you haven't noticed.”

“Is that so? Well, the last blacksmith I ran into a few miles back deliberately put the nails in too deep on my horse's feet. Would you do the same?” Thomas eyed an ox by the barn.

“No. I don't care to work on your horse or any other that belongs to the U.S. Army.” Isaac continued hammering.

“What's your name?”

Isaac started to walk away. “None of your business.”

“You're under arrest as a spy for the British,” Thomas said, motioning to two soldiers. Isaac fought back but was soon overwhelmed. “And take that ox for slaughter,” the major added.

Frantic, Keziah ran from the house toward them. “Leave him alone!”

“Go back inside, Keziah!” Isaac cried.

She tried to pull the soldiers off her husband, but Thomas shoved her to the ground, causing Isaac to struggle even more. One of the soldiers went to help her, but the officer pushed him back. “No comfort or aid to the enemy,” the major said sternly.

The sympathetic Yankee stared at his superior with contempt. “Sir, I respectfully disagree with your methods.”

“Then you're relieved.” Thomas gestured to some other American troops. “Take this soldier into custody, as well. I won't tolerate traitors.” Reluctantly, the others took their comrade's musket.

“After what you just did to my wife, when I escape, you're the first one I'm going to kill,” Isaac growled at Thomas.

The major laughed and then slapped Isaac across the mouth with his glove. “I'll see you hanged from the highest tree before that happens.”

Keziah watched helplessly as Isaac was taken away. “Please don't kill him.”

“Stay inside, Keziah!” Isaac shouted, only to be elbowed in the stomach by Thomas.

Keziah collapsed to the ground. “Don't hurt him. Please don't hurt him.”

Billy raced toward a rickety wooden building with a sign that said: brady's tavern. He turned off the dirt path and burst through the door.

John Brady, a middle-aged, balding man wearing an apron, finished topping up a patron's beer as the customers looked on. “You're father wouldn't like you being in here, Billy. Want some water?”

The patrons laughed as Billy fought to catch his breath. “The Americans ... they're coming!”

“I think you've been out in the sun too long.” Brady felt Billy's flushed forehead. “If I wasn't a good friend of your father's, I'd give you a beer.”

“Listen to me! They're here in Stoney Creek!” Parched, Billy grabbed a glass of beer from a customer at the bar and downed it.

“Now just a minute, boy!” the customer cried, yanking Billy by the collar. “I sure hope you've got some money, because you owe me a drink. If you don't, I'm going to take it out of your hide.”