Vengeance AU – stand alone
"Come," Larabee
acknowledged the light tap on his study door.
He did not even turn from his
position in his large leather chair. His focus remained on gazing out the paned
window over the serene, gentle rolling hills that was his part of his horse
farm. Knowing the only person who would dare to enter his sanctuary after he
had asked not to be disturbed was his housekeeper, Nettie Wells. Sharp ears
heard the arrival of the carriage a few minutes earlier, but his body refused
even to muster the strength to rise and assuage his
curiosity himself.
He waited for her announcement, not
long in coming. Her voice carried through the room to his back. "Mr.
Larabee, Magistrate Travis here to see you."
Chris just nodded, smiling slightly
at his housekeeper's formality. For his part, she was part of his family, and
he did not care for such airs between them. Nevertheless, while she was
performing her duties, she insisted on it. He turned enough to make sure that
she was aware he heard her, sitting a touch straighter.
"Thank you Mistress
Wells," Orin Travis bowed to the older woman slightly from the doorway
when she stepped aside to allow him entry. "Chris."
Chris looked warily at the magistrate
to see if he could ascertain if the visit would be good or bad news, rising to
accept the extended hand when the man crossed the room to
him. "Has something happened?" he asked, wanting to know the purpose
of this visit.
Travis shook his head negatively.
"No, no. All is well. Standish has returned to lording over his business
enterprises, the legitimate ones, and the ones he thinks I don't know about.
Wilmington reports JD is fine and almost fully recovered also." Travis
chuckled a bit. "I think Buck is a bit jealous of the attention Inez
lavishes on the boy when he comes in, especially given Buck and Inez's current
situation."
Chris smirked, knowing the trials
and tribulations Buck and Inez went through on a routine basis on Portsmouth
Island.
His expression turned serious again
while he accepted the brandy snifter Chris offered. "Thank you. We've been
lucky the soldiers have been scarce in these parts, chasing those reports of
rebel sightings all over the countryside," Travis managed a small grin
again.
Both men knew most of the leads were
false, Chris having Standish and Mosely plant them in
the right ears to divert attention. The horse breeder indicated the chairs by
the fireplace.
"Let them look," Chris
said, his body settling tiredly into the embracing leather.
"And here? How goes it here?"
Larabee felt Travis staring at the
dark circles under his eyes, and his weariness. He even waved the Magistrate to
a seat to get off his own feet, truth be told. The
blond sank further back, with great care, into the cushions of his chair.
"Better. Everyone is on the mend."
Travis stared expectantly.
Chris did not think he could manage
much more of an explanation than that. The last mission of Vengeance almost was
a disaster. While they had intercepted the British frigate to retrieve the
missives bound for England, messages containing information meaning certain
death as traitors for several prominent colony leaders, their success was not
without casualties. A sad looking Vengeance limped its way back to its home
hideaway, with a good third of its crew out of commission with various
injuries. The only thing sadder than the schooner was the appearance and
demeanor of the men crewing her, all showing signs of
exhaustion, many badly injured. All aboard knew the stakes, and what they
accomplished, but the blood spilled weighed heavily on the captain. They were
his responsibility. While a major feat to keep so many men involved in
clandestine activities against the Crown out of the watchful eyes of British spies,
to hide so many wounded was nigh impossible, leading to the plan to spread
rumors and false leads of rebels well away from them. He only hoped no true
rebels suffered because of the rumors; trading their lives for a rebel's would
not sit well on his conscience.
Rubbing his forehead, Larabee
sighed. He found himself over the last few weeks, as he waited for his crew to
heal and his ship's repairs to complete, secluding himself in his study. Mainly
he pondered if the last two years had been worth it. Two years that seemed to
do nothing to deter the British determination to hang onto its Colonies,
whether the Colonies wanted them or not, lives lost on both sides. Instead,
they continued to tighten their iron fist and impose more and more hardship
among the colonists with more taxes and tariffs. Those who opposed the
Loyalists wanted nothing more than their freedom, but hope faded,
no one seemingly willing to make the final cut with England.
"I know you didn't journey all
the way out here just to relay good news," Chris looked hard at the
Magistrate. "We're still making repairs to the ship, so you surely cannot
expect us to go back out so soon."
"No," Travis quickly
answered. "Of course not. I do have news."
Chris could not read anything from
the magistrate's face, but didn't think he was going to be happy with what he
was about to hear.
"News from the last meeting of
Congress," Travis paused, taking his time, seemingly not believing the
news himself. "A declaration was made that the Colonies drew up an official
grievance for the King, and that we declare our independence as free and
independent States."
Larabee showed no reaction. He
turned to look back over the hills of his land.
"Everything we fight for, it's
finally going to happen," Travis stated.
Chris shook his head. "We both
know sir, this is not the end. England will not give up. The battles will
continue, if not more fierce than before. War is upon us. A revolution for
independence, a fight for freedom."
Feedback to cinbg@yahoo.com