Lords of Freedom 2 - Chapter 21
Introduction
Lords of Freedom is an exciting trilogy that includes adventure, realistic action, surprising insights, and a touch of romance. (Movie rights open)
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The serialization of Lords of Freedom 2 (book 2 of the trilogy) is in progress. Lords of Freedom 2 includes many intriguing parallels with Joan of Arc, George Washington, Francis Marion (The Swamp Fox), Henry Knox, and the American Revolutionary War. Chapters of book 2 are being published weekly. Please follow and subscribe on X or Substack.
Lords of Freedom 2 - Chapter 21 - Hailey Escapes
Waves rocked the great ship, anchored at the Kingmen port, constructed miles from the nearest city. On shore, there were rows of tents and some structures made of sturdy logs: one served as the DFAC, another for weapon storage, along with an infirmary and a general assembly hall.
It was a sinister settlement, Hailey thought, peering through a porthole from below deck aboard the ship. It was sunset, with the sky overcast and dark, giving the night an eerie feel. She was in a locked cabin with a bunk, a chamber pot, an anchored table, and one hard-backed chair. As well, on the far wall was a storage chest and beside it, a rusted anchor on a broken chain.
Gerald had driven the carriage to a rocky beach the night of her abduction, and she’d been marched aboard the Kingmen ship, hands still bound. Listening to the conversation around her, Hailey learned that Gerald and Kurt would return to Leighford with the carriage and continue to pose with Henry as Collette’s staff. They would feign dismay that Kingmen soldiers had abducted Hailey Knox from the manor in their absence. They, along with Henry, would spread the rumor and keep up the pretense that Collette was distraught over the incident and unable to receive visitors.
Then, with Collette on board the ship as well, the crew set sail at morning’s light, bound for the Kingmen port. Upon arrival, one of the men, a cook named Jonathan, produced a shoulder-length wig for Collette, colored to match Hailey’s shade. He’d been a barber back in the kingdom before the conflict at hand ramped up and had done a fine job crafting the wig, Hailey had to admit.
Once that was done, Collette set off aboard a wagon with a small troop, headed for General Banastre’s battle camp where she’d pose as his hostage. This would cement the circulating rumor for any Freemen soldiers or couriers who ventured near the camp. There would be scouts dispatched to watch the Freemen troops and alert the general when Knox Fox made a move to rescue Hailey.
The good news, Hailey learned, was that the general had no idea where Knox’s battle camp was. There were other Freemen battalion camps, of course, but Knox Fox’s had yet to be discovered. Oftentimes, Kingmen scouts or couriers failed to report back to the general, suggesting that they had discovered Knox Fox’s camp but had not lived to tell. It was maddening to Banastre, but cheered Hailey’s heart.
The Kingmen had cannons well hidden at various points surrounding the general’s battle camp and planned to catch Knox Fox unawares when he arrived, hoping to rescue Hailey. In reality, he and the men with him would march into an ambush and be swiftly taken out.
With a strangled cry, Hailey turned away from the porthole window—she couldn’t listen any longer. General Banastre’s plan was genius, she had to admit. Marius would never mistake Collette for her, but others easily might. When word came back that the Kingmen general was indeed holding her hostage, Marius would move at once to rescue her.
The first night, Hailey also learned that in five days, the Kingmen ship would sail back to the kingdom for more supplies and additional troops. She would sail with them, as King Horace wanted the Lady Fox back in the kingdom as his hostage.
Today was day four, and tonight she’d attempt to escape. She was familiar with the camp routine, and although her plan required a good measure of luck, she was out of time; it was now or never.
At sunrise each day, a bugle sounded, rousing the men; then, the DFAC crew began breakfast preparation while the rest gathered and marched the camp perimeter in formation. Once the soldiers had all eaten, Jonathan brought a tray onto the ship for her.
He was dark-haired with very pale skin, watery bloodshot eyes, and a pointed chin that bore patches of stubble. Each morning, he arrived in a foul temper—hungover, Hailey suspected. By lunchtime, Jonathan would be sipping from a flask he carried, and by sundown, he’d be in high, rather loud spirits. In a word, he was a functioning drunk.
After the first day, as Hailey’s plan to escape took form, she began acting timid and frightened when he brought her meals; the first day, she’d been regal and aloof, peering at him and all the Kingmen soldiers with disdain. However, she realized if she acted apprehensive, Jonathan was pleased. It puffed him up in his own mind, which was precisely her intent.
Then there was the storage chest. With nothing to do hour after hour, she’d begun trying to open it. The lock was sturdy, though, and the few hairpins she had to pick it with were no match for the solid metal of the lock. If she’d had her handbag, it might have been a different story. She carried a small knife that might have done the trick, but the bag was likely back at Collette’s manor, and even if she had taken it with her when she was abducted, surely the Kingmen here would have snatched it from her if Collette hadn’t seized it in the carriage.
At least she still had the fox tail talisman tucked deep in her dress pocket. She’d sewn several pockets into all her dresses, cleverly hidden but handy. In another, among other things, was a small pan flute one of Rising Moon’s comrades, Wiyot, had crafted for her. She hadn’t been able to master the bird calls the natives whistled out through cupped hands, but the flute gave just the edge she needed to come close. Once she made her escape, she hoped to signal Rising Moon or one of the others from his tribe.
Reaching into the pocket, she pulled the fox tail out and stroked it absently. Underneath her dress, she wore a stained and ragged Kingmen uniform, and she had her hair pulled up high, secured with a strip of boot leather. All she lacked was a cap—the boots she’d don were waiting near the cot.
Frustrated with the stubbornly locked storage chest, she’d kicked it soundly the second day and was pleasantly shocked to see that the wood was waterlogged and rotted in places. Carefully, she’d pried a piece loose and found a handy stash inside. There were old uniforms, worn-out boots, and even a broken-handled knife in a sheath. She’d dragged the rusted anchor a bit closer and moved the broken chain to conceal the breach.
A long strip of leather from one of the boots now served as the weapon’s hilt, lashed to the knife with boot laces. The knife now hung on the uniform belt under her dress. As well, she’d sheared the long strip of leather now tied in her hair. She’d emptied her dress pockets earlier and tucked everything she had into pockets of the stiff and smelly uniform.
She’d had to stuff the boots that were the closest fit and not too badly worn with strips of cloth to keep them on her feet, but the uniform she chose fit well enough. Her height and bone structure saw to that. A cap though was absolutely necessary, but good old drunken Jonathan would help solve that problem.
She moved to the porthole window and peered out again; it was about time for Jonathan to stagger on board the ship with her evening meal. Sure enough, right on cue, he emerged from the DCAF, tray in hand, swaying slightly in his step. Quickly, she lifted her skirt and slipped the fox tail talisman into one of the uniform pockets. Then, smoothing the dress back into place, she slipped her shoes off and donned the boots, sitting down on the cot to quickly lace them.
Hearing Jonathan throw the outside bolt, Hailey moved into position, standing to the left of the door so he wouldn’t see her when he opened it. Moments later, the cabin door swung ajar, and he stepped inside.
“Dinner is ser..,” he sneered, but his voice trailed off. “Where are you, missy?”
Swiftly, Hailey stepped into view, grabbing Jonathan by his uniform collar and shoving him with all her might toward the chair. Her dinner tray went flying, scattering the food everywhere. Taken by surprise by her ferocity and unsteady on his feet, Jonathan catapulted over the chair, smacking his head on the table on his way to the ground.
Hailey whispered, “Ouch,” with a cringe, realizing he was unconscious.
Without delay, she snatched the cap from his head and settled it on her own; then she stripped off her dress and broke for the open door, slamming it closed behind her and ramming the bolt home. Heart racing, she tucked a few stray locks of hair into the cap and strode off in what she hoped was a soldierly step.
On deck, the ship was teeming with sailors preparing for the morning’s sail. Taking note, she snatched up a coil of heavy rope and draped it over her shoulder, then continued toward the distant gangplank. She kept her head down but her confidence up: she was but another soldier following orders. Down the gangplank she went, shouldering past other men moving to board the ship. None gave her a second glance.
She dropped the coiled rope near four large barrels waiting to be loaded onto the ship and headed toward the tree line. Once there, she circled the camp to the clearing where the horses were hobbled.
Ducking into the large lean-to, she picked up a set of reins and a bridle. There were blankets and saddles as well, but she couldn’t risk saddling a horse. Dune Runner and Tauri, two other comrades of Rising Moon, had taught her to ride a horse bareback, thankfully, but she hadn’t yet mastered guiding a horse without reins.
There was a canteen hanging from one of the hooks, and she snatched it up. There was no way to fill it up right now, but having it with her seemed wise. Then, she hurried toward the horses.
Moving amongst them, stroking muzzle after muzzle, patting neck after neck was calming and settled her racing heart. When a tawny filly jostled her way over with a friendly nicker, Hailey smiled; when she nuzzled Hailey’s shoulder, she knelt to loosen the filly’s hobble. The filly’s mane and tail were black, and she had a dark star-shaped patch between her eyes, Hailey noted, bridling the horse. Then, grasping the filly’s mane, she swung astride bareback.
It was nearly dark then, and Hailey worried about getting far enough away from camp to bed down. She was heading into the hills and couldn’t risk the horse taking a misstep. The best thing would be to find some sort of cave, a cave large enough to accommodate both her and the horse. A miracle that would be, she knew, and blew out a breath.
Then, another sort of miracle transpired. A single star twinkled to life in the sky above, shining strongly through the clouds. They rode on, and the clouds began to shift, roiling back to reveal a full moon.
Reaching into one of the uniform pockets, Hailey pulled out a compass she’d taken from the storage chest and regarded it a moment. Leighford lay to the west, based on the nearby ocean; right then, she was heading south, so she turned the filly to a western course, still heading away from the Kingmen port.
In mere minutes, a trail appeared—one used by animals and natives. It was narrow but hard-packed, so Hailey urged the filly into an easy canter. After an hour or so, sounds of a gurgling brook could be heard, and Hailey eased the filly to a walk.
“Are you thirsty, girl?” she said, patting the filly’s neck. “I certainly am, and there’s plenty of time now to fill the canteen.”
In response, the filly nickered.
When they reached the brook, Hailey dismounted and led the filly to drink. She did the same and then pulled the cap from her head and splashed water over her face and neck. As she dunked the canteen, she looked over at the horse.
“I don’t know what your name is, but I’m going to call you Dark Star.”
The filly tossed her head and flicked her long tail, seeming to approve. Then she pricked her ears forward, sensing something. A warbling bird chirp sounded in the night air.
Hailey blinked, then clamored to her feet and fished the pan flute from a uniform pocket. Raising it to her lips, she warbled an answering call. Songbirds didn’t chirp in the middle of the night, and that was not the call of an owl.
Three natives astride horses moved into view then: Wiyot, Dune Runner & Tauri. They were headed back to Safe Haven with news that Hailey had not been seen in Leighford for nearly a week.
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