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From: oldbill2@comcast.net
Subject: {ASSM} Rebel part 006
Lines: 253
Date: Sun, 11 Apr 2004 16:10:10 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Rebel 006.txt" begin>

Rebel part 006 Ð  (Old Bill)  (Mf hist)

Hessian Captives

	I was wandering in the barrens of Long Island, thoroughly 
lost after barely escaping destruction with the Maryland Line.  The 
screams seemed to come in twos and threes at first and then just a 
single voice cried out for mercy and for help.  I dismounted, 
tethered my borrowed horse, checked my weapon and discovered 
that a small group of Hessians was in the process of raping two 
females in a forest clearing.  After some quick and careful study 
while I loaded my musket I counted six men and decided that the 
two girls were almost past the point of rescuing.  One was tied to a 
tree with her thin arms stretched above her and had bright blood 
running down her chin, along one small breast and on the inside of 
her thighs.  The other young woman was being roughly buggered 
and doing most of the yelling despite the fact that the man on her 
was beating her head into the dirt while she yelped. The girl on the 
tree might have been unconscious or dead, but the man pawing at 
her and getting ready to prong her did not seem to care.  She 
seemed oblivious to everything, dangling limply.  The soldiers had 
started a small campfire, stacked their weapons, and the girls had 
been stripped nearly naked.

	I poured a handful of heavy buckshot into the muzzle of my 
piece and worked my way around until the women were almost 
completely covered by the bodies of their hulking attackers.  I got as 
close as I could, knelt and let fly at about twenty paces.  The 
German nearest me screamed and fell atop the woman he had been 
abusing and another twisted in agony near the fire with his hands to 
his face as I charged into the camp and skewered the soldier who 
had been raping the girl stretched out on the tree.  He died on my 
blade, arms flung wide, as I turned to face a big German with a 
straight sword coming at me, an officer I supposed, a sergeant it 
turned out.  I hit him in the face with the butt of my gun and 
charged toward the fire where two men were retrieving their 
weapons from a stack.

	I stuck one in the back and dumped him atop the muskets as 
the other lunged at me, missed and fell on his face when I threw my 
hip into his charge.  I pinned him to the ground with my big blade, 
ripping through his ribs, as I heard someone yell, "Look out."  I fell 
to the ground and saw the man I had knocked down leveling his 
musket from less than ten feet.  Suddenly a small woman jumped on 
his back and his weapon fired into the air harmlessly.  I scrambled up 
and was on him almost at once, pulled the naked girl aside and tore 
his throat apart.

	The girl stood panting beside the dead German and pointed 
beyond him. "He's getting up," she said, wiping her mouth with the 
back of her hand.

	I turned and saw that one of the men I had put some buckshot 
in was charging at me, bayonet lowered and blood streaming down 
his face from a ruined eye.  I parried his thrust, knocked his weapon 
aside and then stuck him in the chest and ripped upward.  He cried 
out and held my musket with both hands until I kicked him away, 
spurting blood and clawing at his spilling guts.

	I checked each body carefully, found the non-com near the 
sword still alive, dispatched him with a thrust and then cut the 
unconscious girl down with my broad bayonet.   She fell in a heap 
but soon revived with her sister's help, moaning and then crying. 
The two nearly naked and harshly abused young women held each 
other and looked at me, wild-eyed.  I pulled two of the less-bloody 
jackets from the dead men and gave them the coats to cover 
themselves.

	While I searched the bodies and pocketed two light purses and 
some cartridges, the girls sat under the tree where one had been 
tied and watched me.  Six dead in less than a minute or two was 
reasonably gut shaking and very bloody.  Finally I wiped my 
bayonet, sheathed it and came and sat beside the shivering girls with 
a shirt I had found in one man's knapsack and a piece of sausage.  I 
offered my canteen.

	"Where do you live?" I asked, wiping blood from my arms on 
the shirttail.

	The older one, the one who had saved my hide with her brave 
charge, pointed west while the younger girl put on the stained shirt.  
She was very thin and barely nubile with teeth marks on her small 
breasts.  "Just over that ridge," she said.  "They killed our folks, 
burnt our place."

	"This your sister?"

	"Yes," she said, "she was a virgin, just twelve.  I been raped 
before.  This was the third time." She shivered and wrapped her 
arms about herself.

	"You got any kin?"  I wondered how she had survived.

	"Uncle, ten miles south, cousin or two."

	I patted the younger girl's soft hair.  "You all right?" I asked.
	"No," she moaned.  "They poked me.  I hurt, hurt bad.  I'm 
bleeding some."

	"Let's get away from here," I said, helping them to their feet.  
They followed me without protest although I had no idea where to 
go or what to do.  We walked to my horse and I had them both 
mount and then led the animal to the creek I had recently passed.

	The young women bathed by squatting in the stream and then 
sat with me and shared what little food I had including the German's 
sausage.  "I suppose we can camp here," I said, noticing that the sun 
was fast disappearing.  "We've got a couple of miles between us and 
those Hessians' bodies."

	"Can't we go on," the older girl asked.  Her name was Mikey 
she had said and her sister was Willie.  I did not ask what their real 
names were since that was what they called each other.  The 
younger girl was crying from time to time, but the older one seemed 
very stoic about the whole attack.

	"Horse don't see well in the dark," I said.  "Might trip, break a 
leg."  I got my blanket and spread it out in a fairly level place.  "How 
about you two finding some dry wood."  They both had retained 
their shoes if little else, just torn shifts.

	Pretty soon we had a small fire going and they rolled up 
together while I sat and smoked.  After an hour or so the older girl 
shook herself out of the bed roll and came to sit beside me, her bare 
legs rather distracting in the flickering light, the dark blue coat 
hanging just to her knees.

	"I can watch for a while," she said.

	"Know how to shoot?" I asked, patting my musket.

	She nodded and held my arm.  "I'm scared," she said.

	"Me too," I told her truthfully.  I had been replaying my brief 
fight and found it unbelievable.  No one had a right to be that lucky, 
I had decided.

	"Hold me," she said, and I put my arm around her shoulders.  
We sat and talked until almost dawn, probably sleeping from time to 
time.  Finally I got her back beside her sister and lay down next to 
them, waiting for the sun to rise.

	In the morning we ate some berries as we headed toward the 
girls' uncle's place.  My horse seemed to be happy carrying the two 
of them rather than me, but my feet got awful sore after a few miles 
since the boots I had taken from one of the dead Germans didn't fit 
just right.  About supper time we found the farm and the uncle and 
his gaunt wife seemed surprised if not entirely pleased with the girls' 
arrival and their story of escape.

	I got a drink of good whisky, and we all had a spare and 
colorless meal.  I gave the uncle one of the purses I had found on the 
dead men, and they insisted I spend the night and get a good sleep.

	"War'll keep a day or two," the man said, and I could not 
argue with that.  Since he and his wife and their five young ones 
filled their cabin, the uncle and I fashioned a crude lean-to for the 
girls out of poles, pine tree limbs and canvas, and I made a bed for 
myself in a corner of their open-sided stable.  My bones insisted on 
sleep long before I put my head down.

	"You awake," said a quiet voice some time later.  "It's me, 
Mikey."

	I guess I jumped and it took me a while to remember where I 
was or who Mikey was and my hand was on the handle of my 
bayonet by reflex.

	"Sorry," she said, "I couldn't sleep."

	I squinted at her.  All she had on was the big jacket I had 
given her and it was not buttoned. Her young body almost glowed 
in the moonlight, very inviting, very stimulating, especially at that 
hour.

	"What's wrong?" I asked, lifting my blanket and welcoming her 
in beside me, enjoying the feel of her bare legs stretching down 
beside mine.

	"Well, don't laugh, it's men."

	I kept my mouth closed and waited, my hand on her 
uniformed ribs, her breast warming my wrist.

	"I had a boy, a man really, back a year or so, before all this.  
He ran off after promising to marry me.  Since then the only men 
I've knowed raped me, hurt me, smacked me around.  None ever 
loved me, jus' poked, groaned and laughed."

	Her breath pulsed into my face as she spoke and I pulled her 
closer.

	"First time, I thought they were going to kill me, them 
Redcoats."  She sniffed and wiggled closer.  My lips touched her 
forehead.  "Second time was bad, too, but it was just one man."

	"This time, well, they made me watch them do that to my sister 
and then, just before you fired, one of them, well, you saw.  He was 
a pig."
	"Is she all right?"
	"I think so, " Mikey said, touching my stubbled face with her 
finger tips.  "So, anyhow, I thought, you might, you know, make up 
for it."

	"I can try," I said, attempting not to sound noble when I was 
just randy.

	"But you're awful big," she said.  "Ben, he wasn't nearly your 
size."

	"Ben?"

	"The boy that run off.  They wanted him for a soldier, but he 
ran, probably to the Hudson where he has some folks.  I had 
figured on marrying him.  We did it a few times.  I enjoyed it 
mostly."

	"You're a pretty girl, brave too.  There'll be lots of others," I 
said, kissing her nose.  She lifted her chin and kissed my mouth.

	"Anyhow," she said, shivering under my exploring hand on her 
bare, goose-bumped skin, "please."

	We made love very gently and carefully for some time before 
we got lost in the process, in the demands of our healthy bodies and 
satisfied each other to the point of collapse, the girl atop me most of 
the time.

	"That was nice," she said, gasping beside me, her hand resting 
on my belly.  "But I'm gonna be sore."

	The second time was a lot more vigorous, and she whooped, 
bucking under me like a wild thing, kicking her legs.

	"Hush," I said, "they'll think it's an Indian attack."

	She sighed and giggled.  She was gone when I awoke.  Her 
aunt fed me and I got on my way.  The girls blew me kisses as I left.


<1st attachment end>


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