One of the servants put his fingers to Eldon’s throat. “The boy’s dead.”
A maniacal gleam grew in Orpha’s eyes. “No more than he deserved. Enough excitement for today. For her whoring, Juliet’s turn will take place tomorrow.”
“Why not today?” suggested Snapes.
She wanted to claw the sneer off Snape’s face. No doubt, the cook and Snapes conspired against her. Protesting her innocence was as futile as holding water through wide-spread fingers.
Knees buckling, she righted herself, refusing to show weakness. Somehow, she had to keep up this dangerous game, faking a bravado she didn’t have and holding her breath waiting for Orpha’s whim.
“Not today. I like my entertainment parceled.” Like a vulture, Orpha’s wrapper flapped about her as she turned to go inside the house.
Juliet breathed a sigh of relief and cast her gaze on the distant mountains rolling onward with infinite depth. There was no sign of Joshua. To expect him to return was a useless venture. She leaned to Mary and whispered, “We leave early morn.”
Chapter Eight
Joshua and Two Eagles entered the fort at West Point, a crucial military location guarding the Hudson River and critical for the transportation of food and supplies. A blue-coated soldier escorted them to a crowded office.
“Joshua, Two Eagles, it’s a pleasure. You have news of the frontier?” Colonel Rufus Putman gestured for them to sit. “This is General Anthony Wayne. He is also interested.”
Joshua spent the next half-hour over maps, detailing the movements of Indians and the British.
General Anthony Wayne leaned forward. “I’ll make sure General Washington receives it posthaste.”
“There is an indentured servant at Horace Hayes’ farm, claiming she is Colonel Faulkner’s cousin and wants to escape to England.”
General Wayne cleared his throat. “And you want to help her escape and return her to her cousin,” he said matter-of-fact.
“I do.” Joshua nodded.
“Well then. While you are at Fort Oswego, you can do intelligence gathering for us.”
“Agreed. I’ll stay one night to rest and resupply, and then be on my way.”
“Good,” said Putman. “Take from the quartermaster whatever you need.”
Joshua shook hands and left with Two Eagles.
Outside the commander’s office, Joshua fell in with Ghost, a renowned trapper. He shook his shaggy head. “Just came from the south and barely missed a huge party of Onontio’s moving north.”
Joshua froze.Juliet.She’d be vulnerable. “Where?”
* * *
In a milky haze, snow fell, lacing the dawn, rendering everything silent. Still hanging on to its ragged coattails, winter seemed to spite the advent of spring.
Eldon.She had cared for the servant boy so much, she felt she might bleed to death with his passing. She and Mary had wept silently through the night, grieving the poor boy’s horrid fate, wishing him well into a far better world. Eldon’s death and the imminent threat of Juliet’s lashing cemented their departure.
The horrid Captain Snapes slept upstairs after spending half the night in deep conference with Horace.
The first few streaks of dawn swathed the house when they tiptoed down the stairs, gathering foodstuffs and a knife from the kitchen while everyone slept. Juliet purloined a coat from Horace and one from Orpha made of heavier wool for their travels. The labors they had performed for the Hayes’ more than paid for the items pilfered.
Juliet and Mary crossed themselves when they passed a fresh dug grave where the servant boy had been laid to rest. They hurried past the whipping post, a lone bloody sentinel in the yard, a grim reminder of what would happen to them if caught. Entering the barn, they crossed to the back. They pulled aside a loose board and stepped through the cow pasture where huge bovines snorted out short puffs from their nostrils, unconcerned with the interlopers.
Nerves dancing in her stomach, Juliet turned to see if anyone from the house was watching. She exhaled and the air became frozen lace. Satisfied no one could see them, and that the barn blocked any view of their passage, they climbed through a split rail fence, slogged up a meadow and into the barrier of the woods. Their footprints were left in the snow, but Juliet couldn’t do anything about that.
So quiet. Unearthly quiet as if the world quit breathing, imprisoning her in a glare-white silence. Up the mountain, trees seemed to leer at her, grabbing at her with their long branches, talons scratching her. Yet nothing sounded, nothing stirred, nothing sang.
Gooseflesh rippled up her back.
