Jack sat with his back against a pole. He wondered what they were going to do to him. Would he be put in front of a firing squad? Hung? As long if they did not give him to Miss Rivers, he would be all right. She would boil him alive. The Shadow Fox was probably on his way back, now. He would tell her, and she would hate him for the rest of her life.
He shook his head. Why did he care? She was the daughter of rebels. She was a rebel. Her brother was a rebel. Why did he care what she thought? It did not matter, anyway. He would not be around to feel sorry that she despised him. He would be dead.
Jack’s thoughts were interrupted by movement behind him. Suddenly, he felt cold steel against his hands. As he struggled to see behind him, someone cut the ropes binding his hands. Fists raised, he twisted around to defend himself.
The Shadow Fox crouched behind him, knife in hand. The boy’s mouth was in a grim line.“No time for questions. Follow me.”
He turned and slipped out the back of the tent. Wordlessly, Jack followed, wondering what was going on. They slid along the edge of the camp, sticking to the shadows like wraiths. The Shadow Fox led Jack out towards the trees. Just outside the tree line, stood Midnight. The horse stepped nervously as they approached.
“It’s alright, girl, don’t worry yourself.” The Shadow Fox stroked her nose.
“Did you want the pleasure of killing me yourself?” Jack decided he was not going to let this rebel make a fool of him.
The Shadow Fox chuckled grimly. “If I want to kill you, Jack, I would have done so already.”
“Then what are you doing?”
He swung on his mare’s back. “Get on.”
“What?”
“Are you deaf? Mount my horse, Mr. Richards.”
Jack obeyed. He decided this was the best course of action at the moment. If he did not, the boy might run him through on the spot. The Shadow Fox did not seem in the mood for questioning. Sighing, Jack settled himself behind the boy.
Midnight leapt into a canter, and Jack grabbed the Shadow Fox’s waist to keep himself from flying off. On silent hooves, the horse skirted the army’s camp. Once clear of the fires, she cantered in the direction of the Boston Neck.
Jack remained silent the entire ride. For some reason the Shadow Fox was helping him escape. At this point in time, Jack wisely decided not to ask questions. He had a feeling the Shadow Fox was in a testy mood and would not respond positively to any speaking Jack might do. The boy was likely to kick him of the mare at any moment. So, Jack clung to the Shadow Fox’s waist, trying not to slide off the horse or incur the boy’s wrath.
By the time they reached Boston’s gates, the sun had crept up over the horizon and was basking the town in pink early morning light. The Shadow Fox unpinned the cloak from around his neck and handed it to Jack. “Hold this and stay quiet,” he commanded as he returned the tricorn hat to his head.
The horse slowed as the guard yelled, “Who goes there, and what business do you have in Boston-town?”
The man had been there for a while, and he was tired. His watch would be over momentarily, and he was not in the mood for any trouble.
“Daniel Dale and Jack Richards to see the general, sir. We’ve important information for him.”
Without question, the sleepy guard waved them through. Once they were in and out of hearing range, Jack commented, “Impressive. Did you cast a spell over him, or something?”
The Shadow Fox shook his head and turned Midnight towards the commons. “Act like you know what you are doing, and no one will question you.”
A street down from the commons, the horse stopped, and her rider slid from her back. He reclaimed his cloak and donned it.”The camp is just down there. If I ever see you in General Washington’s camp again, I’ll run you through.”
Jack dismounted the horse. “Look, young one—“
“It was necessary, I know. I don’t want to hear it.” He turned his back.
“No, I wanted to thank you.”
“Do not thank me. This was against my better judgment.”
“Also,” Jack paused. “I’m sorry.”
The Shadow Fox made no move to answer.
Jack shuffled his feet, debating with himself. Making a decision, he asked, “Please, can you keep this from Robyn?”
“Robyn? Robyn Rivers? You want me to lie to her to save your pride? Are you ashamed that you threw her trust on the ground and stomped all over it with the entire British army?” This was done with much stomping and gesturing of arms.
Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, that was rather dramatic.”
The boy crossed his arms.
“But, yes, you are right. I did, and I’m sorry.” He sighed. “Please tell her I’m sorry.”
The Shadow Fox mounted his horse. “I will.”
The horse leapt into a gallop, and they were gone. Jack sighed. He would never be forgiven.
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Ahem. I've been meaning to post this for a while. Yes, I know, I'm horrible. Well, thus ends Jack. Or does he? Will he show up again? I dunno. I haven't decided. Robyn hopes not.
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