Finally, after an hour of riding, I heard noise. At first, I stiffened in my saddle, quickly pulling the reins of my horse to the left so as to steer her in that direction and hide behind the trees. My breath caught in my throat, and I thought myself foolish for not bringing any type of protection with me. I quickly planned it out in my head—if Redcoats were to come riding in on horses with bayonets, I’d jump off of my own and tackle one of them to the ground. Then I’d be able to take their weapon, kill them with it, then be ablе to defend myself against anyonе else.
That was, of course, if I didn’t die first.
With my breathing steadied and my mind calmer I could hear much more clearly, and discovered that it was not British soldiers I heard—it was the noise of a bustling city! Only then was I able to tell the difference between the clopping of Queen Ranger’s horses and the rolling of a wagon; only then could I tell the difference between orders being shouted and children’s laughter.
It brought happiness to my heart to hear such sounds. What with a war going on, us aides-de-camp had found little time to enjoy ourselves, always drowned in work, so the sound of people having fun was almost foreign to me. It reminded me of my early days on Mepkin without a care in the world, and my eyes began to glisten from tears of happiness.
It took me but two breaths to regain my senses and realize I was still hiding behind the trees in fear. I cleared my throat and steered my horse out from our hiding spot, and quickly I regained some composure as we rode out into the street. The heat of early August pounded down on me harder than expected without the leaves of trees for coverage, and I felt my clothes begin to feel constricting with how it clung against the sweat on my back. I only realized how dry my tongue was when I spied a woman with a bucket of water hoisted onto her shoulders chatting with another, and I was quick to steer my horse in front of a tavern. I put her in the stables next door and paid the boy out front—whether or not it was more than he needed, I did not care to ask—before walking into the building.
It reminded me much of The Hogg’s Inn, and I was beginning to wonder if all taverns and pubs were supposed to look the same. Seeing as the sight wasn’t a foreign one, I needed not dwell on the structure of the room inside and sat at the counter without ordering a beer—I needed my mind to be sober for when I went through with a plan I had formed in my head and met Alexander.
A woman walked up to me from behind the counter. “And what would you like to drink today, sir?”
I gave her my best smile. “I’ll have a glass of water, please, with a plate of sausage and bread.” After having had the same meal in the army for so long, I usually vomited if I were to have something else.
The woman nodded and went to begin making my order. She came back a few minutes later with a glass and plate in hand. She placed them in front of me and I slid her some coins. Slowly, I began to eat, going over the plan in my head. If I was able to find out where the harbor that the Languedoc was in then I’d be able to go through with my plan.
I still didn’t know what I was going to say to Alexander when I got there, or how I was going to tear him from his work. Would I be bold and brash and drag Alexander out of whatever meeting he had in order to talk to him? Would he not be in a meeting and all I would have to do was bring him to a secluded area? Would he have already left the ship before I even got there? Or would I be dragged from the ship myself just trying to get on? There were so many ways this could go wrong that I didn’t dare think about the consequences lest I become disheartened.
I raised my hand as if in school once more and the lady behind the counter walked over to me. “Already done, my good sir?” she asked, her tone lightly flirtatious as a smile crept onto her lips.
“No, I was just curious if you knew of the Languedoc?” I asked, deciding it best to ignore her flirtatious tone.
“Oh, that French ship with d’Estaing? Yeah, I know plenty.” She planted her elbow on the counter and her head on her fist, leaning forward. “What would you think to know, Mr…?”
I took a swig of my water in order to ignore her gaze. “Laurens, John Laurens, and I was curious if you knew where it is docked.”
“Oh, just down in Black Point. No harbor, nothing, just on the beach. Townspeople don’t like it, but they’re there on military business, so there’s nothing we can do about it.” She gave me a grin, leaning closer. “Why? Gotta hot date with one of the people on board?”
I shook my head, biting my tongue to prevent the actual answer—yes—from being said aloud. “No, no, just curious.”
The lady only hummed. Then: “So, are you gonna drink and eat that or are you just gonna talk with me all day?”
With my appetite pretty much gone, I shoved the glass and plate over the counter to her. “You can take it; I’m no longer hungry.” Standing up from my stool and placing my tricorn hat on my head, I added, “Besides, there’s a place I gotta be.”
She opened her mouth in protest before I threw her a few coins over my shoulder and she clamped her jaw shut. I quickly opened the door and ran out into the street, finding my horse in the stables and mounting her. I gave her a sugar cube before pressing my legs into her sides, and off we went to Black Point—off we went to Alexander.