interpretation of his presence. “Lieutenant, does he have anything on his person?”
The lieutenant searched William and his bag once more. Lieutenant answered, “No, nothing, Colonel.”
Marcus rarely dispensed mercy. A sign of weakness on most occasions. He caught Corbett’s eye. Then turned to the lieutenant. “Release the younger man. I see no reason to detain him.”
Before his orders could fade into the wind, Lord Dunmore’s personal battalion rode up. Marcus was neither surprised nor happy to see Richard Wick among the group. Wick pulled his reins back, almost falling off his horse.
“My, my, my. Is it not my dear brother-in-law?” he laughed. “Good job, Colonel Durham. Mr. Clay will indeed be happy.”
“Let me remind you, sir, this wasn’t for your father-in-law,” Colonel Durham said barely trying to conceal his contempt for the man in front of him. “I’m a British soldier. My orders are such.”
Wick waved his arm to the sight before him. “What…what is going on here then? You’re not thinking of letting William go? No, he needs to go with his father.”
Marcus shot him a look that would have killed if it had been a weapon. He said solemnly, “There’s no need. I’ve determined he wasn’t involved.”
“And I say he was,” Richard emphasized. He turned to the group behind him. “These are Lord Dunmore’s personal battalion. He wants all traitors punished.”
The commander of the small battalion nodded. “Yes, sir. Major Murhearth. Colonel Durham, I have to implore you to let us have the prisoners. Lord Dunmore will carry out their punishment. I assume you have what you came for. Let us deal with our own.”
“Then I suggest you take it up with my commander, General Clinton.”
“Colonel, I do have my orders from Lord Dunmore,” Major Murhearth said. To Marcus’ dismay, Major Murheath reached inside his jacket and pulled a folded paper out. He handed it to Marcus. “You will find all in order.”
Marcus looked over the the document thoroughly. To his disgust all was in order. Moreover, Lord Dunmore had the authority to take his prisoners.
Colonel Durham walked soundly over to Richard Wick. He wanted nothing more than to wipe off that malevolent smile plastered on his face. He grabbed Wick’s arm firmly and pulled Wick up to his face. “For God’s sake man, he’s your nephew.”
“Take your hands off of me, sir. You have your orders,” Richard jerked back his arm, not able to contain his nervousness. “Major, take the prisoners!”
Colonel Durham raged. “You do so only under protest.”
“I will note your protest to Lord Dunmore,” Major Murhearth acknowledged. He nodded to his men who took hold of the two. Neither said a word.
Colonel Durham withdrew; his eyes burned through Wick. He glanced back over at the prisoners. A surge of guilt swept through him. Both men would die.
He didn’t like the way the wind was blowing over the colonies. Over the years he had performed his duties, but now if the turbulence couldn’t be contained they would be fighting their own..killing their own.
Angry, he walked over to his horse and remounted. He had what he needed. He would file a grievance upon his return, but he knew without doubt it would be too late for the prisoners. He saw within Richard Wick’s eyes the desire for swift action, legal or not. Marcus motioned for his men to head out.
Chapter Eight
Jonathan walked the bricked streets wearily. The lonely street reflected a glow from the chimney street lamps. He neared his destination. A long day had ensued, although as of yet he had not been officially assigned to a unit. Gabriel had long since departed, joining up with Washington’s command. Paperwork had kept Jonathan within Philadelphia. Problems had arisen at home that had brought the delay.
Jonathan’s attention turned toward his own issues. He reminded himself of his beliefs; belief in the cause that they were willing to lay their lives on the
The lieutenant searched William and his bag once more. Lieutenant answered, “No, nothing, Colonel.”
Marcus rarely dispensed mercy. A sign of weakness on most occasions. He caught Corbett’s eye. Then turned to the lieutenant. “Release the younger man. I see no reason to detain him.”
Before his orders could fade into the wind, Lord Dunmore’s personal battalion rode up. Marcus was neither surprised nor happy to see Richard Wick among the group. Wick pulled his reins back, almost falling off his horse.
“My, my, my. Is it not my dear brother-in-law?” he laughed. “Good job, Colonel Durham. Mr. Clay will indeed be happy.”
“Let me remind you, sir, this wasn’t for your father-in-law,” Colonel Durham said barely trying to conceal his contempt for the man in front of him. “I’m a British soldier. My orders are such.”
Wick waved his arm to the sight before him. “What…what is going on here then? You’re not thinking of letting William go? No, he needs to go with his father.”
Marcus shot him a look that would have killed if it had been a weapon. He said solemnly, “There’s no need. I’ve determined he wasn’t involved.”
“And I say he was,” Richard emphasized. He turned to the group behind him. “These are Lord Dunmore’s personal battalion. He wants all traitors punished.”
The commander of the small battalion nodded. “Yes, sir. Major Murhearth. Colonel Durham, I have to implore you to let us have the prisoners. Lord Dunmore will carry out their punishment. I assume you have what you came for. Let us deal with our own.”
“Then I suggest you take it up with my commander, General Clinton.”
“Colonel, I do have my orders from Lord Dunmore,” Major Murhearth said. To Marcus’ dismay, Major Murheath reached inside his jacket and pulled a folded paper out. He handed it to Marcus. “You will find all in order.”
Marcus looked over the the document thoroughly. To his disgust all was in order. Moreover, Lord Dunmore had the authority to take his prisoners.
Colonel Durham walked soundly over to Richard Wick. He wanted nothing more than to wipe off that malevolent smile plastered on his face. He grabbed Wick’s arm firmly and pulled Wick up to his face. “For God’s sake man, he’s your nephew.”
“Take your hands off of me, sir. You have your orders,” Richard jerked back his arm, not able to contain his nervousness. “Major, take the prisoners!”
Colonel Durham raged. “You do so only under protest.”
“I will note your protest to Lord Dunmore,” Major Murhearth acknowledged. He nodded to his men who took hold of the two. Neither said a word.
Colonel Durham withdrew; his eyes burned through Wick. He glanced back over at the prisoners. A surge of guilt swept through him. Both men would die.
He didn’t like the way the wind was blowing over the colonies. Over the years he had performed his duties, but now if the turbulence couldn’t be contained they would be fighting their own..killing their own.
Angry, he walked over to his horse and remounted. He had what he needed. He would file a grievance upon his return, but he knew without doubt it would be too late for the prisoners. He saw within Richard Wick’s eyes the desire for swift action, legal or not. Marcus motioned for his men to head out.
Chapter Eight
Jonathan walked the bricked streets wearily. The lonely street reflected a glow from the chimney street lamps. He neared his destination. A long day had ensued, although as of yet he had not been officially assigned to a unit. Gabriel had long since departed, joining up with Washington’s command. Paperwork had kept Jonathan within Philadelphia. Problems had arisen at home that had brought the delay.
Jonathan’s attention turned toward his own issues. He reminded himself of his beliefs; belief in the cause that they were willing to lay their lives on the
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