Lord of the Wilderness

by Elizabeth St. Michel

They stayed in the murkiness beneath the outcropping. Getting over the wall with this many people would be a problem. Two Eagles, Ghost and he could slip over the wall and disappear, but with three novices? He had to get rid of the guard first if they were going to make it happen.

  He gestured to Two Eagles to stay with them. He looped back silently in the shadows, glancing apprehensively at the guard who was staring at the moon. It took Joshua more than ten seconds to climb the ladder. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. Two seconds to come up behind him. The soldier turned and met a hard right to the jaw. He tied and gagged the unconscious guard.

  He ran down the parapet, helping Juliet up, her huge eyes bright in the gloom.

  His pulse racing, he glanced over the stockade wall and to the ground below. A broken ankle on any one of them could spell delay, capture and death.

  Two Eagles leapt to the ground. Edmund and Ghost followed. Joshua tossed their bundles to the men, and then picked up Mary, lowering her, he slipped his hands to her wrists and let go. Two Eagles caught her.

  He faced Juliet. “Are you sure? You haven’t been discovered. You can go back to your bed. No one would suspect—”

  “You cannot get rid of me that easy.”

  He glimpsed the determination on her face and smiled. He lifted her, releasing her into Two Eagles’ arms, and then he glided over the wall and dropped to the ground. A hundred yards away from the fort, under the canopy of trees, Ghost stopped, shook their hands and disappeared into the forest like a specter.

  A cannon boomed from the fort. “We’ve been discovered.”

  Juliet said, “What now?”

  “Luck favors those in motion.” The moon was cloaked with clouds. Barely enough discernable light illuminated their way. Joshua pushed through a narrow trail, pulling Juliet and Mary behind him. Edmund kept up the rear.

  Mary stopped, jerked them back. “Where is Two Eagles?”

  Joshua hauled them ahead. “He’s making a trail with Ghost to lead the colonel on a merry chase to the east, and covering our tracks west.”

  “I’m not leaving without him.”

  “He’s an expert at this. He knows what to do and will catch up with us later,” Joshua said as he led them on a winding path. They slipped in the mud from the torrential rains the day before, for a mile, in the dark. They stumbled on rocks and saved their breath for walking. The forest was dark and silent. Working around and beyond the fort, they came out of the trees by the river where Two Eagles had hidden their canoes. Two Eagles had planned in advance in case they needed to make a quick escape from the fort. He had obtained a second canoe just to be safe.

  Joshua listened. No one approached. In silence, they cleared away the brush. More shots were fired to the east.

  “Your dear cousin will not allow our flight. The woods will be crawling with redcoats. Move and quickly.” He shoved both canoes in the water, turned to help Edmund and Mary. A shadow loomed.

  “I have it from here.” Two Eagles steadied the canoe while Edmund teetered to the bow nearly capsizing the craft. He lifted Mary, and she put her arms tight around his neck.

  “I told you I’d never leave you,” Two Eagles said. He lowered her into the canoe as if she were the most valuable cargo he held, and then pushed off.

  Joshua lifted Juliet and she moved to the bow. She felt the glide of water as Joshua pushed off the stern into the current and both dug in their paddles.

  Juliet glanced at Edmund flailing about, the paddle foreign to him. He paddled left and right, and not ever in accord with Two Eagles. The rain flooded the river, making the water high and fast. Two Eagles warned his brother to dig deep.

  Juliet responded to the rocks and trees and overhanging limbs but Edmund struggled. Everything was moving too fast, flying down the river there was no time to think of anything but avoiding menacing rocks and tree limbs.

  “Avoid the upcoming rock. Paddle hard right,” Two Eagles spoke to his twin.

  Juliet barely missed a rock.

  Edmund slammed against a protruding rock, turning their craft sideways. Mary wailed.

  “Rest easy,” said Two Eagles. “I will turn us around.”

  Two Eagles had no sooner managed straightening the craft when Edmund steered them into a dangerous eddy between two enormous rocks. Like being scooped up by a giant hand, the canoe pitched heavenward. Juliet held her breath. The canoe slammed downward and flew forward, Edmund laughing in victory and ready to take on the river.

  Edmund suddenly resumed paddling in perfect rhythm with his twin, zooming far ahead of them. Juliet couldn’t help but note the uncanny and unspoken communication between the twins, moving as if one body, and as if they’d never been separated.

  Huge logs swirled. Debris whirled in their wake. Hours passed and Juliet’s arms ached. She kept glancing over her shoulder to see if they were followed. Joshua did too. Had Ghost been successful in leading the soldiers away from them?

  The moon made its descent and the sun rose, a great gem in the sky. She worried about Joshua and his wounds. The purpling had gone down around his eye but he had cuts and other wounds. Still they paddled on with the sun dipping higher in the sky as the current rushed them along, and into a greater river of the Mohawk where the ride smoothed out.

  She had taken a risk asking the soldier, John, who she had seen Joshua secretly talking to, for his help. Her hunch to have him aid with the escape had been a long shot but worked to their advantage as he had been more than willing to aid her. Lord Rutland? He had called Joshua Lord Rutland. Was Joshua an English lord and from one of the most powerful families in England? Had Joshua told her cousin the truth about his lineage?

  Toward dusk, they steered the canoes to the deep-shaded shore of the swollen river. Joshua, Edmund, and Two Eagles jumped into knee-deep water, squishing through mud in the shallows and pulled the crafts up the embankment, concealing them beneath hemlock branches in case British soldiers happened by. Grateful, Juliet, with Joshua at her side, stumbled to steady ground. Joshua followed an animal trail away from the camp to check the area. Mary passed out food from the bundles they’d taken from the fort. Juliet ate heartily, and then collapsed on the furs Two Eagles had laid out.

  She awoke two hours later and groggy, patted the fur beside her. Joshua was not there. She grabbed some bread and bandages and followed Joshua’s trail through a copse of trees to a high clearing with a full view of the river glistening in the moonlight. He sat at the edge of the clearing overlooking the river, his back to her.

  “Why didn’t you sleep, Juliet?”

  “I did for a short time.” She moved toward him.

  He turned.

  “You must eat—for your strength.” She offered him the bread. “Let me bandage your wounds.”

  He glanced down as if he’d forgotten his wounds existed. “Only a few bruises and scratches.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, turning back his shirt on one side. Her stomach fluttered. A six-inch deep furrow ran across his shoulder still oozing blood “It looks terribly painful.” She touched his shoulder lightly. “This must be dressed or it will fester.”

  Her eyes locked on to his lips. Heat flooded her face, the crush of his mouth, a lingering memory. Her finger itched to caress the smooth line of his lower lip and the firm curve of his jaw.

  “You know of such things?”

  “One Twelfth Night, I watched Moira sew up a man who had imbibed on enough spirits to sink a battalion of soldiers. He had attempted to carve a roasted goose. Instead, he performed a neat job of slicing his arm.” She heaved a sigh. “Since there is a shortage of physicians, you’ll have to suffer my needlepoint skills. If you would sit on the log, I can begin.”

  He nodded, straddled a beech log. Gingerly she blotted his wound and retreated into her shy and reticent self. His skin felt warm and he smelled of earth and river. How would she find the wherewithal to perform this task?

  An English lord? Still reeling from the fact put starch in her k
nees. “Joshua Hansford? Lord Joshua Rutland? Who are you? Far from the atmosphere of wealth and respect, you present a mystery. None of it makes sense and you have a lot of answering to do.”

  She threaded a needle, wishing she had some rum to pour over the gash. Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, she pushed the needle through his flesh. She winced and looked at him to see if he’d felt the pain. “Why would one of English nobility carry a long rifle, dress like a frontiersman, live in the wilderness, and then pretend otherwise?”

  “Does it matter?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I remember details…the dinner with the Hayes’, and then at Fort Oswego…the refinements you revealed without realizing the civilities displayed. How you folded your napkin when done eating, holding your wine goblet just so, and slipping sometimes from your colonial vernacular. Every one of those instances spoke of polished manners ingrained from birth.”

  He was silent. He was good at keeping silent.

  Aware of Joshua watching her every move, she gritted her teeth to quell her trembling, drew the thread through two layers of skin, pulling the cut together. She closed her eyes and swallowed. “I heard the soldier call you Lord Rutland and don’t deny it. You can’t fool me. I know nobility, yet you choose the occupation of a fur trader and spy. Why?”

  Joshua lifted his brow, and next offered a slight bow of his head at her observations. “Lord Joshua Rutland at your service, Madam, the third son and third heir to the Duke of Rutland and very thankful you helped us escape.”

  “I couldn’t let them execute you…for all that you had done for me.” Because I have feelings for you. She pushed through his skin again. “I imagine you have family?”

  “I have a sister, Abigail living in Boston and married to a shipbuilder.”

  Juliet frowned. The daughter of a duke would marry nobility in England not a Boston shipbuilder. “She’s in Boston married to a colonial?”

  He scanned the river below and she followed his gaze. So far, no one had followed them.

  “My family has been under attack by unseen enemies. The violence started at my sister’s betrothal ball. There was an explosion and during that time, my sister was abducted, found herself in the bowels of a ship with her hair shorn, breasts bound, dressed as a boy, and the captain bent on her demise. She barely survived. An American privateer, Captain Jacob Thorne rescued her.”

  Joshua placed his foot on a fallen tree and laughed. “He thought her a male and kept her as his cabin boy.”

  “I can imagine his surprise when he discovered her to be a female.”

  “I don’t know the details, but they fell in love and married. She has given birth to her first born by now.”

  Juliet inhaled. “What happened to the rest of your family?”

  “My brother, Anthony remains in England. He’s is a brilliant scientist who never surfaces from his laboratory…except for the miraculous fact both he and Father left the place seconds before someone blew it up to kill them,” he said, his words laced with venom.

  “My oldest brother, Nicholas was likewise abducted and no one knows what has happened to him. I’ve been out of touch so long, I don’t know if he is alive or dead.”

  Joshua turned away. Juliet clasped his arm and continued working on his arm. No way would she allow him to retreat into himself.

  “That’s horrible. Who do you think is responsible?”

  “Later, when Abby had landed in Boston, she was attacked again by a man named Percy Devol who admitted to kidnapping her back in England. We speculated there were two men involved, but now know there are more.”

  She took another stitch, felt his muscles harden beneath her fingers. “How do you know?” There was more to the story, she was sure.

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “Not ever in a million years did I believe the hatred of the Rutlands might extend to the frontier. My war is on two fronts. Snapes wanted to get at me because of who I am.”

  Her pulse jumped at the mention of Snapes. She shook it off, tied off the last stitch, and surveyed her work. She wound bandages around his arm, then darting a glance at Joshua and took a step back from the ferocity of his glare.

  “Snapes has a twisted score to settle with the Rutlands and I—have a score to settle with him.”

  “A score to settle?

  “If I knew…”

  “When he came to the Hayes’ farm and discovered you had recently been there, he asked many questions concerning you, and later he—” Her mouth went dry.

  “He assaulted you?”

  She shook her head. “No. Thankfully the cook came in and I was sent to attend Orpha.”

  Joshua bolted to his feet. “I’ll get that bastard,” he spat out, then took her hand and headed back to camp. “We are going back on the river.”

  “Tonight? I cannot—”

  “I don’t want to taste your cousin’s hospitality again.”

  Reaching their site, Two Eagles alert, nodded to Joshua. The tall warrior touched his twin’s shoulder to awaken him, and then gently picked up Mary, who slept soundly, carried her to the canoe and placed her gently upon the fur pack. Joshua steadied the birch bark vessel and taking Juliet’s hand again, helped her alight. He plunked a fur pack behind her, hopped in, and shoved off with his oar. “Sleep, Juliet. I will paddle through the night. Until we come upon the safety of Two Eagles’ tribe, I will not rest.”

  Facing him, she settled against the furs. Sleep eluding her, and her mind swirled with so many questions. “Why do you choose to go against your noble family?”

  “I love my family. But I have opposition to a monarchial regime.” Joshua dug deep with his paddle. “I left the feudal-aristocracy behind in England simply to be greeted with it again here in the Colonies. The status quo must end.”

  She trailed her fingers through the water, noticing how he studied her beneath his dark lashes.

  “Look what happened to you, Juliet. Is not your own situation a demonstration of the ills of nobility? You were driven out of your home by a relative before your father was cold in his grave. Afterward, you fell helplessly into the abhorrent practice of indentured servitude with no retreat but submission and slavery. Where is the fairness?”

  Joshua looked deeply into her eyes. “Of concern is the aristocracy. Is it fair everything goes to the hands of the few? That the rest sacrifice everything for the sake of nobility? What we are fighting for are new ideas where every man is equal.”

  “Noble but rare that rebels who revolt ever win. What if the Patriots lose this war? What then? Will you ever be able to return to England? If you stay in the Colonies, you will live in fear of being hunted down by British soldiers.”

  “Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to better the lot of others, or strikes out against an injustice, he sends a ripple of hope. For every battle won, we cross a new threshold of daring, and create a powerful current that can sweep down the mightiest wall of oppression and resistance. This war will be won and succeeded by the exertions of men far better than myself. Losing is not an option.”

  They passed beneath a heavily canopied cover of overhanging branches, blotting out the light of the somber moon. As the canoe scraped over gloomy shallows, a slight breeze bowed the reeds growing near the bank. The magnitude of his conviction impressed her, and she admired his principles. Did she not believe the same? Did she not rail at the injustices she’d seen? His fervor was indeed infectious…and the deep timbre of his voice grew seductive to the point she wanted to reach out and touch him.

  She folded her arms. To touch him anymore was a lie. Had he not pushed her away and told her to marry Sunderland?

  He considered her a burden. She had helped him escape and now he felt responsible for her. With certainty, he was dedicated to his cause, and she was surrendered to the specter of intangible idealism. “Does your family know what you do?”

  “My sister, I suspect, has eavesdropped on conversations I had with my uncle in Boston.”

  Juliet
tapped her chin. “As a spy, why did you go to the fort when the risks were so great?”

  “I had no idea I had been seen meeting with General Horatio Gates at Saratoga.”

  “You live a very dangerous life.”

  He shrugged. “All warfare is based on deception. The ruse of a Loyalist trapper and selling his furs was a believable trick. The best spies can make a very small shadow on the wall. Unfortunately, my ruse has been revealed by Snapes.”

  “I must say, I was almost convinced by your act, mumbling banalities despite your cloaked erudition, giving a calculated progression of disclosures with the right amount of praise to feed my cousin’s vanity.”

  “You are a smart woman, Juliet. I should be wary of you.” His mouth twitched at one end into a boyish grin. “Of course, the disclosures are already known to add credence to the deception. The flattery is to win easy favor. I thank you for your praise.”

  “It wasn’t meant to praise you. Your foolishness nearly secured a rope around your neck.”

  He said nothing but she observed him consciously forcing his limbs to relax. “Juliet, thank you for saving my life.”

  She was overcome by his raw emotion. “I’m glad you escaped…I couldn’t let them do anything to harm you.”

  She remained quiet for a while, and then asked, “When did you become a Patriot?”

  “So many questions, Lady Faulkner, you make me dizzy.” He inclined his handsome head meaningfully. “In England, I had attended a lecture by a passionate colonial, Benjamin Franklin. As soon as I finished my schooling, I left for the Colonies, joining my uncle, Thomas Hansford, in Boston. He is an ardent Patriot and introduced me to many of the Sons of Liberty.

  In Boston, there was great fervor against the Quartering Act and unfair taxation. I fought in Breed’s Hill. Many of my companions died. A fire torched in my belly.

  “From there, I traveled with Henry Knox, a bookseller and captured Fort Ticonderoga. We dragged sixty tons of artillery through forests and swamps, across the frozen Hudson and Connecticut Rivers, arrived in Cambridge in January and, afterward, set up the cannons on Dorchester Heights. Can you imagine the surprise of British General Howe waking up to the bombardment of Boston? As a result, General Howe was persuaded to evacuate Boston or have his troops and ships destroyed.”