Free Liberty 1784: The Second War for Independence by Robert Conroy Page B

sound or move. His captors were drunk, but that didn’t mean they might not suddenly wake up and get vicious.
    He continued to hold still when he felt a gentle tugging at the rope that curled behind the tree to which he was bound. It sagged and he was free. A firm hand on his shoulder meant that he should stay still. He did as he was told. Then the hand tapped him and gestured for him to move away from the camp. Owen’s muscles were cramped and he found it difficult to walk silently, but he managed to do so without alerting the sleeping outlaws. His rescuer followed a few seconds later.
    When they were a ways away, Owen whispered. “Why didn’t you kill them?”
    His liberator turned. He now carried a pair of muskets taken from the bandits and a pistol was stuck in his belt. Owen didn’t see his bayonet and didn’t care. The hell with it, he thought.
    “It would be murder and I’ve done enough of that lately. Don’t worry. They won’t follow us without weapons.”
    Owen gulped at the response. “Then tell me who you are.”
    “I have the guns so you tell me first.”
    Owen thought that was reasonable. After all, hadn’t the man risked a lot to untie him? He told him and, as they continued to trot through the forest, he quickly explained that he was a deserter from the Royal Navy and how he’d managed to get his stupid self captured. He added that he sincerely hoped his new friend had nothing to do with the English.
    The other man laughed. “I’m Captain Will Drake of the Continental Army. If you really want to find that Liberty place I’ll help you. If it exists, of course.”
    “You’ve been there, Captain?”
    “No, but I think I stand a better chance of finding it than you do.”
    Owen grinned. “And you’re less likely to make a fool of yourself by getting caught like I did. I’d be honored to serve under you, Captain.”
    “I thought you might,” said Will. They’d come to the place where Will had been camping. They were a couple of miles away from the bounty hunters’ camp and had heard nothing of an alarm behind them. The four men would have a most unpleasant surprise in the morning. Perhaps they’d even be thankful that their throats hadn’t been sliced.
    Will handed him a spare musket. “Take this.”
    Owen grasped it and checked it out. “You think those bastards might still come after us?”
    “No. I’d been watching them for about a day and I don’t think they can track very well at all, not that I’m that much better.”
    Owen chuckled. “You were good enough to free me without alerting them, Captain. Personally, I don’t think those four could find their asses in the dark with both hands.”
    * * *
    Sarah and her family had also traveled into Pennsylvania, but that only put them close to the English troops headquartered at Fort Pitt and the adjacent city of Pittsburgh. Banastre Tarleton, the English general commanding the sprawling area, had troops and patrols on the lookout for people heading to and from the rebel enclave out west. His cavalry roamed the trails and roads looking for people to stop and question.
    Thus, when they heard the thunder of hooves behind them, they quickly ducked into the thick bushes that lined the trail they’d been following. They dismounted and held their horses steady. Sarah and the others held their breath as about twenty green-coated cavalry pounded past. “Tarleton’s men,” her uncle muttered. “Dragoons, and Tories all, damn them.”
    They waited. The enemy seemed to be on a mission, looking for someone or something. Finally, Uncle Wilford stood. “Time to get moving, I guess. But we’re staying off the trail.”
    There was no argument. They began to move cautiously through the woods on foot, leading their horses to keep them quiet. After a short while, they heard the sounds of cries and screams. They looked at each other. Whatever was happening up ahead could have easily happened to them. Nobody wished ill on anyone else, but