Law, Susan Kay (15 page)

"Sure you could. Just keep patting the poor thing on the head
once in a while and he'll come trotting back for more."

"Henry, I'll do no such thing."

"What kind of a patriot are you? For the cause, and all
that."

"At least we can use what we already know," Isaac put in
eagerly.

"Isaac," George said warningly, inclining his head
slightly toward Bennie.

She narrowed her eyes at her brothers. "What's going
on?"

"Nothing, Ben." Henry tucked his hands behind his back.
"What would be going on?"

She turned to Isaac. As the youngest, he had the least experience
in trying to fool her—not that any of them, with the exception of Brendan, had
ever been able to keep one of their schemes from her very long. She was simply
more patient, more careful, and more observant than any of the other seven.

"Isaac, you may as well tell me."

He looked up, appearing to take the greatest interest in the
ceiling rafters. "Nothing at all."

"Nothing at all," she repeated, unconvinced.

"Nothing."

"Well, then, I suppose you might as well all get back to
work."

They didn't quite manage to disguise their sighs of relief as they
scurried back to their tasks with considerably more enthusiasm than they had
previously displayed.

They were certainly planning something, something they clearly
didn't want her to know about, so it must be something that could get them into
trouble—trouble she had every intention of preventing.

Bennie retrieved her rag and went back to scrubbing tables. She
managed to get them all scrupulously clean and at the same time keep a curious,
experienced eye on her three youngest brothers.

***

Although it must have been approaching midnight, it was nearly as
bright as day out. White stars stood out brilliantly against an ebony sky. The
full moon poured milky white light down on the equally pure snow, reflecting
enough to clearly delineate the dark, skeletal trees twisting in the wind.

Bennie shivered and pulled the edges of her cloak tighter. The
dark bulk of the Dancing Eel loomed in front of her; no light leaked from the
tightly closed shutters. Should she go in? She could simply follow them and
make certain they were safe. It would be easier.

But it really wasn't safe, and there was no way she could make it
so. Although it would be better if she could keep them at home, Bennie had no
illusions about the ease of deterring them from what they saw as their mission.
She might as well try and stop winter from following fall.

Her father, Adam, and Carter combined might have been able to
dissuade them. Unfortunately, they were as likely to join in, and then even
more of her family would be involved in this foolishness.

No, she'd have to try and talk them out of it herself. If she
couldn't, she'd simply have to go along. She'd make sure that hothead Henry
wouldn't let himself get carried away, and that in his eagerness Isaac didn't
do something thoughtless.

Bennie pushed open the door. George, Henry, and Isaac huddled
around a table on which was a single lantern. Their heads were bent, and the
light from the small flame burnished their hair to shining gold. Henry was
gesturing wildly, talking in a loud but unintelligible whisper, and the other two
were nodding agreement, their faces lit with excitement and anticipation.

She let the door slam shut behind her.

The young men jumped and turned, wariness and guilt etched on
their handsome faces. When they saw who the intruder was, their expressions cleared.

"Oh, Ben, it's just you. Why'd you slam the door like that?
You startled me." Like the other two, Henry was dressed in dark breeches,
boots, and shirt, and his face showed pale above the black cloth.

"Who were you expecting?" Bennie crossed the room.

"Nobody, Bennie," George said patiently. "That's
why we were startled. What are you doing here at this time of night?"

"I'm not going to let you do it, you know," she said.

"Do what?" Isaac's adolescent voice squeaked.

Bennie shook her head. "Whatever it is you have planned. Some
raid on the British camp, I assume. It's too dangerous, and I'm not going to
allow you to do it."

"But, Ben—" Henry protested.

"No, Henry. What are you outnumbered, twenty to one? It's
sheer madness."

George leaned forward, bracing his hand on the table.
"Bennie, this is the last opportunity we have to strike at them before
they move into the fort and become nearly invulnerable."

"But why? What good do you think the three of you can
do?"

"We're not taking any foolish chances," Henry said, his
green-gold eyes glowing with anticipation. "And it's not so much a matter
of doing a lot of damage. But we can bother them a bit, make them
uncomfortable."

"If you're so sure this is the right thing to do, why haven't
you told Da? Or the rest of the Sons of Liberty?"

Henry shifted uneasily and glanced at George for support.

"We're not going to be able to overpower them in any
case," George said intently. "A smaller group will have a better
chance of slipping in and out unseen."

"Not to mention the fact that Da might not agree with your
approach to the situation," Bennie said.

George smiled. "That, too. Also, I'm not entirely sure
Brendan wasn't right. I think there's a very good possibility that the British
are getting information from somewhere, and I'm not taking any chances that
they're going to be tipped off about this. That would be foolish."

"Well, then, I guess I'll just have to go with you."

"Oh, no you won't," Henry exploded.

"You said it was perfectly safe," she reminded him.

"Yes, but—"

"And you know I'd be able to keep up, Henry."

"I know, but—"

"Then I'm coming," she said firmly.

Once again, Henry appealed to his brother.

George rubbed his chin. "What did you have in mind,
Bennie?"

"I promise I'll stay out of your way, George. I just want to
keep an eye out. You know I'm more observant than you are."

"You can't really mean to let her come!" Henry
protested.

"I could stand watch," Bennie suggested.

"All right," George agreed.

Isaac rubbed his hands together. "Let's get going then."

"So, is everybody ready to go on this mission?" A
slender figure joined them, his shoes moving soundlessly on the wooden floor.

"Brendan," Henry groaned. "Is the whole bloody
family going to be here before we're through?"

"What do you want, Brendan?" George asked.

"You didn't really think I was going to let you have this
little adventure all by yourselves, did you? No telling what kind of a muck
you'd make of it." He tossed a pile of black cloth on the table. "For
one thing, those shiny tresses of yours will stand out like a beacon in the
moonlight. Since, unlike me, you didn't have the good fortune to be born
dark-haired, you'll have to tie those over your heads."

Picking up one of the swatches between his thumb and forefinger,
Henry eyed it skeptically. "You don't seriously think this is necessary,
do you, Brendan?"

"It certainly is." A bucket thudded as he set it on the
table. He dipped his fingers into the pail and smeared a thick streak of soot
across Henry's cheek. "And, you're going to have to cover up that pearly
skin Mercy's so fond of."

Henry glared at Brendan, who smiled cheerfully.

"Well, come on, boys. Let's get to work."

***

Snow creaked beneath her feet as Bennie huddled a little closer to
the ancient, dilapidated maple. The bark was rough against her back, even
through the thick cloth of her cloak, but its trunk blocked the worst of the
wind, and she hoped its dark shadows made her completely invisible.

The tree was on a small knoll, perhaps a hundred yards from the
fort. Behind her, the woods were deep, thick, and black; in front of her, the
massive bulk of the fort was limned with silver by the bright moon, now
lowering in its nightly journey.

They had ridden their horses for only three of the four miles to
the fort. A mile from camp, they had dismounted and tethered their mounts,
preferring to creep on foot the last distance, ensuring no noise betrayed their
arrival.

Brendan had insisted they each leave their horses in different
places, hiding them as well as possible. That way, if one were discovered, no
one could know how many others there were, nor would they lose all their horses
at once.

He had been equally insistent that they would not meet up again
after their mission. If one was captured, there was little the others could do
anyway, and any attempt at rescuing him would only put the rest in danger. So
no one would know until they returned to the Eel if everyone had made it back
safely.

Brendan had stationed Bennie beside this tree with strict
instructions that if things started to fall apart, she'd get herself out of
there and back to safety as quickly as possible. Although the thought of
leaving her brothers in the midst of the enemy made her feel vaguely ill, she
had agreed, knowing their safety would be compromised even more if they had to
worry about her.

Carefully, she scanned the camp that crouched on the narrow, flat
strip of ground between the forest and the fort. A few dozen tents were
scattered about, a couple much larger than the others. An occasional fire
flared, adding a golden glow to the silver moonlight.

The camp seemed to be completely quiet. A handful of soldiers
patrolled the outer perimeter or stood lackadaisically at their posts. They
seemed inattentive, apparently sure that no one would challenge the might of
the British army.

Bennie's heart thudded painfully. There was no indication that any
of the guards were even the slightest bit suspicious, alert to possible
intruders. If she saw any danger, she was to warn her brothers with an owl
hoot. But could they hear her over this distance? And would it make any
difference if they could? At that point, it would probably be too late for at
least one of them; all she could do was hope and pray that the others got away
safely.

She could detect no sign of her brothers. They had left fifteen—twenty?—minutes
ago. It was impossible to judge the time, for each second seemed to drag by
with agonizing slowness. There were no unusual movements in the camp, so either
her brothers weren't there yet or they could move with much greater stealth than
she'd given them credit for.

Another tiny glow appeared at the far side of the small
encampment. Perhaps one of the guards had gotten cold on duty and had made a
fire. Bennie shivered and thought longingly of the Eel's hot, spiced cider as
the sharp wind whistled in the branches overhead.

The glow grew and brightened, looking warm and cheerful against
the stark blue-white of the snow. And then she knew. It wasn't a simple
campfire at all.

Brendan had done his job.

The shout sounded almost unreal when it shattered the stillness of
the air. It must have taken the soldiers even longer to identify the alarm, for
it was several more seconds before dark, human shapes began to stumble out of
the tents.

There was no point in Bennie trying to warn her brothers now. By
this time, surely they all knew the camp had been roused and were long
gone—that, or it was too late to save them.

More shouts. More men running out of their tents, scrambling to
the river with buckets. Perhaps they assumed that the fire was due to natural
causes, for the guards didn't seem to be beginning a search; rather they rushed
to join the others battling the fire.

The neighing of panicked horses joined the shouts. Although Bennie
could not see them from her post, she knew the company's horses were fenced to
the west of camp; her brothers had scouted the location well.

A faint rumble trembled under the other sounds, rhythmic and
almost imperceptible. Hoofbeats—a lot of them. She smiled slightly. George had
been as efficient as always.

The frantic scrambling in camp began to slow. Evidently someone
had taken charge; one group of men still fought the fire, but individual troops
were leaving camp in all directions, as if searching.

It was time to leave. If guards were going out, they knew someone
had set the fires and released the horses. So far, none seemed to be heading
toward her, but there was no way of knowing how long that beneficial state of
affairs was going to last.

Bennie slipped along the edge of the forest, careful to stay in
the shadows. If one didn't know it was there, the path she planned to take
through the woods was almost impossible to find. Once she reached it, she would
be safely away. Only a little further—

Boom!

Bennie clapped her hands over her ears as the sound of the
explosion ripped through the clearing, loud enough to blot out all other sounds
and shake small branches. Throwing herself behind the nearest tree, she looked
back at the camp once more.