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Message-ID: <47733asstr$1083975002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: oldbill2@comcast.net
Subject: {ASSM} Rebel  034
Lines: 517
Date: Fri,  7 May 2004 20:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Rebel 034.txt" begin>

Rebel 034 (Old Bill) (MF hist)

Josey

	At first I thought that the girl might have been twelve or so, 
but when she shed her layers of rags and walked out into the creek, 
I discovered she was a full-grown woman complete with some hair 
under her arms and between her legs, just a small and young one 
with a plain, honest face.  I enjoyed watching her wash herself, 
dunking her head beneath the icy water several times and rubbing 
sand from the creek bottom on her arms and legs.  Then she waded 
ashore and stood over me, dripping water on my leg from the small, 
matted brush between her legs, nothing bashful about her.

	"Bath wouldn't hurt you none," she said, shaking like a dog.  
Her hair threw off droplets, but I noticed that her small, firm breasts 
barely jiggled.

	"Took one last year," I said, grabbing her ankle and pulling her 
down beside me.

	"You shave las' year, too?" she asked, squirming out of my 
grasp and crawling off to her clothes.

	"Think so," I said, running my hand over the bristles on my 
chin and watching her sort out a ratty shift and pull it over her 
sopping head.

	"Where were you headed?" I asked.

	"Nowhere, away," she said, looking over my shoulder at the 
bodies of the two Redcoats who had been trying to rape her when I 
happened by. "You done me out'a two shillings" she had claimed in 
what I assumed was mock anger.  The soldiers both were sprawling 
curiously in death and harbored nothing worth having on them any 
longer.  I had a few more coins in my purse and another full 
cartridge box in my saddlebags plus some tobacco and a canteen half 
full of rum.  "They promised to pay me," she claimed again with her 
back to me.

	I ignored her lies since she had been putting up a loud struggle 
when I happened upon the three of them.  "Away from what?"

	"None a'your business," the girl said, tying on a ragged skirt 
that was several sizes too big for her and dragged the dirt.

	"You a runaway servant, that what?"

	She shook her head.  "Naw, jus' had to leave."

	I waited while she sorted through the rags and found an 
enormous sweater to wear as a bodice.  It almost fell off her 
shoulders and kept one or the other bare most of the time.  I 
wondered if she understood how inviting that looked.

	"Folks died some time back, mine did, five years or so, fever.  
Ma's sister took us in.  When these here popped out," she cupped 
her small, upright breasts, "her boys started getting frisky, climbing 
in my bed, poking at me.  So."

	"So, where are you going?"

	"Some town, find a job." She raked through her hair with her 
stubby fingers.  "Lots a'towns `round here.  They was goin' to pay 
me, honest."

	"Know a tavern in New Brunswick where . . ."

	She held up her hand.

	"Don't hold with no drinking," she said.  "You should a'seen 
my uncle."

	"Might work in the kitchen," I said.  "Can you cook?"

	"Some, nothing fancy."

	"Come along," I said, standing, "we'll see what we can do.  I 
got some friends around here."

	She rode behind me on the horse's back, and I doubt that the 
big mare really noticed the girl's six or seven stone.  We visited two 
road-side places without any luck and got to the third just about 
sunset.  It looked familiar and as soon as we entered, I knew where 
I was.  It was Laura's place, the luscious woman whose freedom I 
had won in a crooked card game.  I still remembered the short time 
we spent in the blacksmith's loft and the loud and violent ending of 
that evening.

	The big woman was behind the bar, looking harried, her hair a 
mess, when I came in with the girl.  "Two beers," I said and she 
drew them and plunked them down without looking up.  I grabbed 
her wrist.  She pulled her hand away, reached under the counter, 
produced a nasty-looking little knife and then looked at me, fire in 
her dark eyes.

	"Damn," she said, grabbing me by the ears and kissing me 
soundly, heaving her full breasts right up on the counter, just about 
flying free of her dress.  I made a grab for her and she jumped back, 
laughing as my fingers hooked her stay strings.

	We retreated to a table in the back and Laura had one of her 
rather-slatternly girls bring us some food.  "Want you to meet," I 
began, suddenly realizing I did not know the diminutive girl's name.  

	"Josey," the girl said, bobbing her head.  "He found me 
downstream a ways."

	"Found you?" Laura asked, taking my hand from her shoulder.

	"Well, I was kind of busy with these here redcoats when he 
come along and made big holes in both a'them.  You should've seen 
it."

	"I've seen him fight," the woman said, patting my thigh in a 
familiar way.  "Moves fast for a big man, don't he?"

	Josey nodded, shoveling in food as if she had not eaten that 
week.

	"Need some kitchen help?" I asked Laura.  "This girl's an 
orphan, looking for work.

	"Can always use a worker," Laura said.  "You mind bedding 
down with girls that have company now and then?" she asked the 
girl who raised an eyebrow and chewed faster, gulping cider 
between spoonfuls.

	"Nope," she said when she could. 

	"Fine," Laura said, "You're hired, shilling a day, meals and part 
of a bed."

	The small girl nodded, looking at me.  "I gotta swive men in 
this job?"

	"Not less'n you want to.  The girls you'll room with, they do a 
man now and again, got some favorites, but we got us a full-time 
whore, a good one."

	"I was thinking on that job," Josey said, sticking out her chin 
and glancing at me.

	"She claims the soldiers I killed were her customers, not 
rapists," I said with a smile.  I turned Josey's head to show Laura the 
bruise on the girl's cheek.

	"They was goin' to poke me," the girl said.  "I didn' `zactly let 
`em neither.  But they did say they'd give me some money if'n I let 
`em."

	"Round here," Laura said, "most men understand both no and 
yes."

	"I ain't no virgin," the girl said without looking up from her 
stew.

	"Few is," Laura said, smiling again at me.  "These days."

	Laura led the girl off to the kitchen and put her to work at the 
buckets, washing trenchers and plates.  Then she came back and sat 
with me.  We talked about the business some, and she finally got 
around to saying that she had found a man.

	"Ain't as big as you," she said, "but he treats me fine.  He's a 
farmer, a tenant, and does some mill work on the side, saw mill."


	"How come he's not fighting, one side or the other?"

	"Only got one arm," Laura said.  "Claims a bear caught him at 
the honey when he was a boy.  I've seen his stump and it's right old, 
hard and cured."

	"Long as he makes you happy," I said.

	She smiled and nodded.

	"You had trouble with the Tories around here?"

	She shook her head.  "British mostly leave us alone, 
understand where they're not welcome, but them Germans, Hess'ins 
or whatever, they's spiteful."

	"Good word for them," I said, getting ready to leave, my 
errand completed and my chances of getting laid minimal.  I walked 
to the kitchen ell, yelled a goodbye to Josey who was up to her 
elbows in gray water and went back to my mare who had been fed 
and groomed.  I gave the stable boy a coin and rode out, feeling 
right proud of myself.  As usual, virtue is seldom rewarded.

	I was not more than a mile down the road, heading back for 
the hills, when I ran into a roadblock.  A skinny cedar had been 
dropped across the road and black uniformed men with lanterns 
stood on both sides of the ditches although the sun was still an hour 
above the horizon.

	Black uniforms told me they were Germans although I could 
not remember the regiment's name right then.  I stopped and 
dismounted when I was ordered to do so after checking behind me 
to see a man with a musket waiting, smiling.  The sergeant in charge 
pulled my bayonet, looked at it, then at me and demanded it and my 
belt while one of his men searched my saddlebags.  Since I had a 
Tower musket, I suspected I was in some trouble, especially with all 
the Royal-issue cartridges I had recently acquired.

	"Name?" asked the sergeant, and I told him.

	"Vere are you going?"

	"Trenton," I said.

	"You iss a Continental, ja, Soldat?"

	"No, I was, Marylander, discharged," I said.

	"Vas iss?"

	"Out, no soldier no more," I said.  "Hurt, wounded."  I had 
enough scars and knew I could limp if I needed to.

	"No," he said.  "Nein." He raised his voice, "Claus!"

	A big man with a dark mustache ran up, listened to the 
sergeant's spiel and led me off with my arm bent.  He tied my hands 
behind me and sat me down by the small fire and then tied my feet 
together.  I watched them stop several more travelers, wondering 
what or who they were looking for and then, when the sun set and 
darkness poured up out of the woods, they pushed the tree off the 
road, untied my feet, got me on my mare and led off back the way I 
had come, back toward Laura's crossroads town.

	There were six of them, mostly good-sized men, well-fed, 
warmly dressed, good boots.  I could smell them in the dark as they 
walked their horses carefully along the worn road.  When they came 
to the tavern, they stopped and the sergeant sent a man inside.  He 
returned and reported.  The only word I caught was "frau," but that 
seemed to be what the sergeant was interested in.  They rode into 
the stable yard, dismounted, tied me to a stall post, and trooped into 
the inn leaving their animals at the rail.  

	The commotion that followed did not last long, and there was 
only one shot.  But by then the customers were leaving, with or 
without their horses, and the Germans had the inn to themselves 
along with Laura, Josey, the two tavern girls and Miss Jones, the 
small town's one and only whore; six men and five women, thought 
I straining to get loose, not bad odds.

	I was working hard on the knots with little success, when the 
back door flew open and a small figure I assumed was Josey came 
running out followed by a big man in his shirtsleeves.  He was 
cursing as she ran into the stable and hid in the stall next to me.  I 
could hear her panting, gulping for breath as the soldier tramped 
around looking for her and grumbling.

	It did not take him long to find her, and I heard him slap her, 
rip her clothes and then take her, grunting with effort while she 
whimpered.  When he finished, in just a couple of minutes, he 
walked past my stall, hoisting his britches, briefly outlined against 
the stars.  I could see his teeth in the dim light.  He looked like the 
fellow with the mustache who had tied me up.

	I heard the Hessian re-enter the tavern and then listened to 
the girl softly crying.  "Josey," I softly called, "come here and help 
me."

	She crawled to me and put her hand on my leg, her head 
hanging.  "He buggered me, right in the arse," she moaned, "I'm 
hurt.  What're you doin' here?  Think I'm bleedin'."

	"Untie me, girl," I asked and she did the knots quickly.  I 
patted her back, told her to stay put, rubbed my wrists, flexed my 
shoulders and got ready to head for the tavern when another 
Hessian came stomping into the shelter.

	"Fraźlein," he whispered hoarsely, "Vere iss you?"

	I nudged Josey, and she sniffed and said, "Over here."

	The man stepped into the stall, and I tripped him, pounced on 
his back, choked him and banged his head against a post until I was 
sure he was finished.  I pulled his spike bayonet from his belt and 
hurried toward the inn, picturing that big sergeant on Laura, anger 
winning out over caution.


	When I came through the back door, the first thing I saw was 
the body of the cook's husband draped across a bench with a dark, 
bleeding hole in his back.  The second thing was the wide-eyed 
sergeant, with his feet up on a chair, watching one of his smaller men 
struggle with Laura, who was at least holding her own.  The 
sergeant jumped to his feet, spilling his beer as I yanked the German 
away from the flailing woman and drove my borrowed bayonet 
through his body twice in rapid order, feeling the steel grate on 
bones.

	I heard the sergeant cock his pistol and threw the dying 
soldier at him just as he fired.  I have no idea where his shot went, 
but I was on him before he could move away from the corner where 
he had sat.  I smashed him in the face, kicked him in the knee, 
twisted his pistol away from him and whacked him in the ear with it.  
He sank, eyes rolling back.

	"Three more upstairs," Laura said from behind me while I got 
my breath.  I nodded, looked for a weapon, decided I could do 
without it after hearing a scream from above and ran for the steps.

	One of the Germans was humping a girl right at the top of the 
steps with her dress thrown back over her face.  I doubt that he 
even heard me coming and he had certainly ignored the sergeant's 
shot he was so busy heaving himself into her, his wide ass moving 
rapidly.  I pulled him off the tight-lipped young woman and threw 
him down the staircase, head first.  He only yelled once before he hit 
the log wall at the bottom with a loud crack. The girl came to her 
knees, pulled down her skirt and pointed to a door before slumping 
back and leaning against the wall, blubbering.

	I kicked open the door and found Claus, the man who had 
tied me, sitting on the side of the big bed with a serving wench on 
her knees between his wide-spread legs.  He was holding her into 
his groin with both hands on the back of her head and leaning back, 
obviously enjoying himself, his eyes closed.  I stepped behind the girl 
and hit the German in the face, feeling his teeth against my knuckles.  
The poor wench rolled away, wiping her mouth, and I pulled the 
man to his feet, hit him in the belly and then rushed him headlong at 
the window.  The sash and glass gave way, and he screamed briefly 
before he thumped into the courtyard.

	"Miss Jones," the girl sighed, still on her knees.  She looked 
thoroughly shaken, miserable, frightened, disgusted.  She spat and 
wiped her mouth again.

	I hurried back into the short hallway just in time to find a big 
soldier coming from the prostitute's room, buttoning his britches.  
"Vot der Teufel?" he said as I charged into him, butting him in the 
chest and knocking off his feet.  I jumped on him, sat on his stomach 
and hit him a time or two before I crushed his windpipe with my 
hands and battered his head on the floor.  Then I rolled his body 
down the steps to pile upon the one already there.

	As I passed the bedroom where I guessed Josey and girls 
would sleep, the two young women were holding and comforting 
each other, thin lipped and teary.  They both looked at me wide-
eyed.  The broken window gaped blackly behind them, the frame 
showing shards of blood-stained glass.

	At the foot of the steps, I found the soldier who had been so 
busy at the top of the stairs very dead.  His neck was broken.  The 
sergeant was still alive but barely conscious.  Laura handed me her 
dirk, and I dragged the man out the back door and cut his throat in 
the side yard.  Soon I had six bodies lined up out there and took the 
time to strip them of what I could see and feel in the dark.  I knew 
they would still be there in the morning.

	When I finished hauling corpses, I found Laura patting Josey 
and Miss Jones sitting by herself, sipping a small glass of gin.  "You all 
right?" I asked the whore. She nodded and gave me a small smile.  
Laura helped Josey up to bed after I found a couple of pieces of 
clapboards to cover the broken window.  The three young women 
lay under their quilt watching me like young hawks as I finished my 
job and wished them good night.

	The cook and her son with their old wagon returned to take 
her husband's body.  Miss Jones went off to her bed, wordlessly as 
usual, and Laura and I sat and looked at each other, drinking good 
rye whisky.  The area around Laura's left eye was starting to swell 
and discolor.

	"You know what glass costs?" she asked softly.

	I nodded, understanding that she was funning me, trying to 
forget what had happened.

	"Don't know when we'll get it fixed. Besides, it'll be hard to do 
one-handed."

	"I'll board it up good," I promised.

	"How many?"

	"Six," I told her, happy to have my belt and bayonet back 
where they belonged.

	"Poor old John.  He was trying to leave when they shot him in 
the back."

	"Damn shame," I said, aware that I was still aroused, keyed up 
from the fight.

	"Reckon Chet's not comin' in tonight," Laura said, watching me 
steadily.

	"Chet?"

	"My man.  I gonna marry him soon as I get the nerve to ask 
him."

	"Uh huh," I said, stroking her forearm, holding her hand.

	"What about them, out there?" she asked.

	"Brunswickers," I said, suddenly remembering.  "Might cause 
trouble.  I'll haul `em off tomorrow, first thing."

	"First thing," she said, holding my hand firmly.

	I smiled at her.  "Maybe second," I said.

	She closed up the place and led me up to her bed.  We got 
down to shirt and shift quickly and held each other for a while, 
letting our bodies calm down a bit.  Then she whispered, "I'm 
ready."

	She clawed at me and I caressed at her as we satisfied each 
other and forgot the world we were in.  When we finally could do 
no more, with her hand holding my spent member and my paw on 
her heavy butt, we slept.  In the morning, after a bit of play, we 
joined our bodies again.  

	"Oh, oh, oh," she gasped and sucked in air. "God," she cried 
and arched her back as I drove my thick shaft deeper into her, 
lifting her lush body on my spear and then starting slowly with long, 
long strokes until neither of us could wait and we thrashed and 
humped together, careless of the noise we were making and the 
rumble of the bed.  When she came it was with a rush and a cry of 
absolute animal pleasure.  All I could do was grunt happily in 
response.

	The sun was well above the trees when we came down to the 
tavern, sat with the girls and ate mush.  The three young women 
looked at me very strangely, nudged each other, exchanged 
whispers, and Josey finally asked, "You didn' shoot none a'them 
Germans, did ya?"

	I thought a minute and then shook my head.

	"An' you done `em all, didn' ya, all six?" the little girl asked.

	I nodded and produced my fat purse.  I dumped it out on the 
table.  "That sergeant had some money; rest of them not much.  You 
parcel it out, even shares.  Leave me enough to live on for a few 
days."

	Laura and I watched as they stacked coins, shared the small 
fortune, and then gave me back a crown and three shillings plus a 
few smaller coins.  A one armed man came into the place and directly 
to the table.  Laura introduced us while the girls goggled.

	"Looks like you had some trouble," Chet said after we tried to 
crunch each other's hand in a friendly way.

	"You help us clean up?"  I asked.  "Need a wagon."

	"Be back in half an hour," he said and turned on his heel.

	The girls got to working cleaning up the tavern, and when 
Chet returned, with the help of Laura's black stable man, we got the 
bodies loaded into a big wagon pulled by two mules.

	"Reckon the river's the best bet," Chet said as I climbed up on 
the seat beside him.

	"Hate to dirty the water," I said with a smile.

	"There a deep woods where we've been cutting timber, lots a 
deadfall, holes and such."

	"Critters would clean up, wouldn't they?" I said.  He nodded, 
and that was what we did with the Germans. It took us most of the 
morning.

	When we returned to Laura's tavern, things seemed back to 
normal.  I shook Chet's hand and then said good-bye and thanks to 
Laura, who also kissed me, much as a sister might.  Josey came and 
sat beside me on a log out by the chopping block.

	"You all right?" I asked her.

	She nodded.  "Still hurts some."

	"Laura's a good woman; hope you'll work hard for her."

	"She was sure workin' this morning," the girl said with a smile.

	"What big ears you got," I said.

	"Hard not to hear you two.  Thought you was goin' to shake 
the place down."

	"Guess we were noisy," I said.

	"`Nough to scare off the bears," she said.

	"You be a good girl," I said.

	"That's no fun," she told me and then threw her arms around 
my neck and kissed me on the mouth.

	I went back to the war, leaving Laura standing with her man's 
arm about her shoulders.	
	

	

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