Forever Young Birth Of A Nation (79 page)

Read Forever Young Birth Of A Nation Online

Authors: Gerald Simpkins

Tags: #paranormal romance, #vampire romance, #romantic paranormal, #historic romance, #action adventure paranormal, #vampire paranormal, #romantic vampire, #vampire action adventure, #action adventure vampire, #paranormal actin adventure, #romantic action adventure, #historic action adventure

BOOK: Forever Young Birth Of A Nation
3.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

That night he found the place and circled it
warily, seeing British soldiers about and eventually coming to the
conclusion that they were being quartered there. Pondering the
situation he finally came to a conclusion and bounded away into the
darkness, thinking
I will have to arrange to meet with June
Stedman if she is still alive. She was either simply a victim of
theft or she is a survivor of the raid that took place on Long
Island. If she is a survivor, then that means Yvonne brought the
Stedmans over because of their wealth. She is a schemer no
doubt.

Chapter 116

The day started like every other one had
since they had been at Washington’s headquarters. For the two of
them though, it was only a continuation of what they had done all
night long. When they had first started, Ian had asked Hamilton to
include him and Cosette in any reports about deserters in that
particular camp. So it was that every day they stayed near
Washington’s tent when the morning report was brought in. It was
routinely sent to Washington’s staff after morning roll call, and
included any who were sick as well as any missing.

This morning, it was reported to Hamilton
that one sentry on the east side of the camp was unaccounted for.
Being as there had been no desertions reported for this camp since
Ian and Cosette had been there, he was concerned. Taking Cosette
aside he said “I wish there were more of us.”

She looked questioningly at him and he went
on “I’d like to see the area where that sentry was posted for
myself, but I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

“I don’t mind if you want to go look.”

“No. It’s enough that we know that someone
is missing, I suppose. It may have been a deserter after all.”

“We know most of the faces by now, so if
someone we don’t know shows up, one of us will notice him.”

“You are right. I will be glad when this is
over.” They separated then, her taking a route one way and him
taking another, but neither ever more than a stone’s throw from
Washington’s tent.

As he turned to walk to the aisle that ran
behind Washington’s tent, he felt an icy prickling on his neck and
immediately began to angle himself toward the officer’s mess tent,
slowing as he approached. As he drew near the entrance, two
officers emerged and he bumped into one, knocking that one’s hat
off of his head on purpose. The icy prickling stopped and after
apologizing to the officer and picking up his hat for him, he
stepped just inside of the mess tent and casually looked back in
hopes of seeing anyone suspicious.

A large husky soldier in a uniform that
looked too tight walked by and went through the area one row away
from where Washington’s tent was, continuing westward. Ian noticed
that he didn’t look toward the guards posted about the tent. He was
wearing gloves in summertime so Ian caught Cosette’s eye and nodded
toward the man as he fell in behind him. She nodded in return and
walked to an area very near to Washington’s tent where she casually
stood not far from his tent entrance now at heightened alert and
watching every person within her view. As she watched, she casually
unbuttoned her duster so as to have quick access to her
weapons.

Ian seemed to be casually walking along the
next aisle over, but he was watching every step the man took,
shadowing him perfectly as he continued to walk west.

Bartholomew was having a good time being a
spy. Killing a sentry before dawn he had taken his uniform and
musket in preparation of his mission. He had boldly walked through
camp and had come to the command center and had surmised where
Washington’s tent was by observing the movements of his staff
officers as they reported to the tent. He had seen two curious
figures wearing long dusters and took them to be game hunters, and
likely waiting about near the officer’s quarters to be paid for
their services. Confidant that they were human because he had
witnessed one bump into an officer, he had relegated the two to the
category of unimportant. He had passed two other hunters at the
outer edge of the camp, but they hadn’t been wearing dusters.

Yvonne would be pleased and he hoped that
Charlotte would be impressed with his performance today. Wearing
the uniform of an American Soldier made him supremely confident as
he had gotten used to being ignored as just one more of thousands
of soldiers. No doubt but they would be successful tonight. He
entered a small area of woodland that was inside of the picket line
and when near some bushes, he flitted off of the roadway and
rocketed away through the forest toward his rendezvous with the
others.

Seeing him disappear suddenly, Ian turned
and trotted back through the camp until he came face to face with
Cosette.

“What did you learn?”

“He was a vampire and I think he was
scouting. We may have company tonight.”

***

“Please tell Mr. Stedman that I am here on
business.”

“Mr. Stedman is missing and presumed dead. I
will see if Mrs. Stedman will see you sir. What is your name?”

“Arnold, Arnold Moore sir.”

“Please wait here, Mr. Moore.” said the
sergeant, disappearing through the double doors of the parlor.
Shortly he returned, saying “Right this way, Mr. Moore” as he led
Moreau into a cavernous parlor, opulently furnished. Standing in
the center of the parlor was June Stedman, an attractive woman of
some thirty years with curly brown hair and hazel colored eyes. She
had just stood and walked away from a tea serving set on a rosewood
cart with brass wheels and a porcelain top.

Moreau introduced himself and then bowed
curtly, kissing her hand. “Please take some tea with me, Mr. Moore”
she said, gesturing to a sofa near her wingback chair.

“Thank you, Mrs. Stedman.”

Pouring a cup of tea at the serving cart she
came and handed it to him and returned to sit and take up her cup
and saucer. After taking a sip, she said “What is it you need to
see me about, sir?”

“I came to return something to you, Mrs.
Stedman” he said as he produced an object wrapped in a towel.
Handing it to her, he took up his tea and sipped it as he watched
her intently.

She could not disguise the surprise she felt
when she saw the object, and her eyes locked on his as she said
“This is mine, Mr. Moore. Where on earth did you find it?”

“It was in a farmhouse on Queens Highway, on
Long Island, Mrs. Stedman.”

She said nothing, but sat staring at him for
several seconds and she became acutely aware of the grandfather
clock ticking steadily in the foyer. Finally she said “I see. I am
grateful to you, sir for bringing it to me. Is there something I
can do to repay your kindness?”

“Why yes, now that you mention it. I am
trying to get in touch with Yvonne and Stefan Devrie.”

Chapter 117

It was just another night in the camp near
Tappan, New York. Cicadas and crickets played their timeless
symphony in the still, balmy air as Ian and Cosette lay on each
side of Washington’s tent. They had taken off their dusters after
dark and wore their fighting suits with the full complement of
weapons.

After persuading Washington to allow him to
do away with several of the closer campfires that evening, Ian had
persuaded him to abandon his tent after dark and had convinced him
to stay in the officer’s mess tent with a platoon of heavily armed
men. None of the men had known that they were to be guarding their
commander in chief before they were ordered by Alexander Hamilton
to report to the mess tent. Once there, they were told to maintain
strict silence.

So now Ian and Cosette lay in wait for an
attack they thought might come this very night. As she lay there,
Cosette was aware of Celeste trying to speak with her, but unlike
when she had been desperate to speak with her that first time, she
now more or less knocked on the door to Cosette’s
consciousness.

Hello, Celeste.

Hello, Cosette. Celine is with me.

Hello Aunt Cosette.

Hello, sweetheart. Are you going to help us
tonight?

Yes. Hello Uncle Ian. Uncle Ian?

Hello, Celine, Celeste. Cosette, can you
hear me?”

Yes. Oh yes, I can hear you Ian. This is
wonderful.”

It is. Can we stay this way for a while?

We can stay this way as long as you two need
for us to. Ian, Cosette; I am getting a picture of you two lying
beside an empty tent.

Why that is right, Celeste. You can tell
that it is empty?

Yes, can’t we Celine?

Yes Mama. It is empty.

That is amazing, Celeste. Isn’t that
amazing, Ian?

It is. I am still trying to get used to this
miracle.

So General Washington is somewhere else
then?

Yes. Is the woodland nearby empty or
not?

It seems empty, Ian. Those nearest to you
seem to be sleeping in their tents.

Good. We can just visit a while then.

For the next two hours the two caught up on
all that had been happening in France. They learned that Robert
Milliken had killed Miles Edwards and that Moreau was suspected of
being in New York City now.

They got to visit with every single family
member then, including Aimee and even Xavier. Aimee and Ian had a
really long talk then and she shared that she had learned three
more languages since he had gone and had begun to play the oboe. As
they conversed they all discovered that they could detect such
things as mirth and could actually know when one or the other was
laughing, and after some time, they could sometimes even tell who
it was. It was a precious and wondrous experience for all of
them.

Henri was reporting on the growth of Ian’s
financial holdings in Europe when Celeste interrupted suddenly.

Ian, Cosette! Someone is in the woods! There
are three of them. No… there are four…. No there are five of them
in the woods. Five in the woods, not moving now… watching… waiting.
Not real close yet.

Thank you, Celeste.

Celine discovered them before I did.

Thank you, Celine.

You are welcome, Uncle Ian.

Ian and Cosette lay as still as two stones
then, waiting as the Cicadas and Crickets continued their timeless
symphony. Minutes passed without a sound outside of that.

They’re moving closer, Ian.

Closer.

Closer.

I hear one now, thank you both. Did you just
hear that, Cosette?

Yes. It is off to our left.

Right. Two now, no three off to my left.

Sabers Cosette, unless you need to use a
pistol.

Very well.

Both of them silently drew their sabers and
rose to a crouch, legs coiled beneath their selves. Three figures
seemed to flow out of the woods five rows east of the row where
they were and easily a hundred yards distant. They flitted quickly
closer and were visible to two pairs of keen vampire eyes as they
appeared momentarily between tents laid out in the rows that
separated the two from the forest at the eastern edge of the
camp.

The three stayed together as they closed the
distance as Ian and Cosette hunkered down in the deeper shadows,
waiting silently as would any good predators. As the three drew
near they all drew sabers and the two could see that they were
dressed in uniforms of the Continental Army. The three came
directly toward Washington’s tent and when they got within forty
feet of Ian he knew that they would see him in the next second or
two so he exploded from cover and rocketed to the nearest one,
engaging him and driving him back with a ferocious attack.
Bartholomew was in a panic and fought furiously, never dreaming of
being attacked in this manner. Ian took his head in some five
seconds after engaging him. Cosette had sprung from her place at
the same instant and was already engaged with Franklin when
Lawrence joined him to press her back. No sooner had he done that
then he was aware of Ian approaching from the rear and broke away,
slicing open Washington’s tent and jumping through the gash into
the dark interior.

Ignoring him, Ian and Cosette pressed the
other one, wounding him grievously six times before Cosette struck
his head from his body.

Celeste spoke to their minds then, saying
Ian, Cosette. He left that tent and is heading for a really big
tent beyond it!

The two rocketed toward the officer’s mess
tent then, falling upon the third one just as he had come to that
tent and had raised his saber to slice it open. Ian reached him
first, eyes blazing and engaged him with a fury, driving him back
as he changed sword hands constantly and changed his rhythm each
time. In seconds Lawrence found out how badly he was overmatched as
Ian’s attacks kept changing sides and rhythm. It was like nothing
he had ever imagined as he fought with a fury born of desperation,
knowing now that he was outclassed in the worst way. Having
suffered three substantial chest wounds at the hands of the
frosty-eyed demon attacking him he turned and rocketed away,
running for his very life.

As he pursued Lawrence, Ian’s urgent words
sounded in Cosette’s consciousness saying
Cosette! Stay in front
of the mess tent and use your pistols!

She had taken her place at the entrance as a
hoarse whisper came from inside saying “What is happening out
there?” Others began to emerge from their tents nearby, peering
about.

Cosette whispered “Colonel Hamilton, come
out here and order those men back into their tents. Hurry!”

Hamilton came out and ran to where several
officers had gathered and quickly hushed them, ordering them back
to their tents, while assuring then that things were under control.
He returned in less than a minute and Cosette spoke to him in a low
voice saying “We got three of them. Stay in there, all of you. Let
us do this..”

Ian followed the other one to the edge of
the camp and then struck him down from behind, taking off his head
with a clean two-handed blow of his saber. Leaving the corpse
there, Ian rocketed back to the mess tent to join Cosette, herself
standing with two pistols drawn, eyes glowing.

Other books

Avenger by Heather Burch
Sargasso Skies by Allan Jones
Pawnbroker: A Thriller by Jerry Hatchett
My Beloved by Karen Ranney
The Farthest Shore by Ursula K. Le Guin
Magic Rising by Camilla Chafer
Lamentation by Joe Clifford
The Bridge of Peace by Cindy Woodsmall