Some interesting developments going on in there... It's good to know that I can always trust good ol' Adams.
btw. How is the Carolina Confederation modelled in-game?
btw. How is the Carolina Confederation modelled in-game?
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CatKnight: ...Adams grinned at the 8-2 vote. Rest in peace, Phillip. This was your idea.
yes ! ! it seems that the Articles of Federation were a preparation for the Constitution of the Iroquois ! !
(i think this link is the same as the one i originally read two or three years ago [more?].)
i was totally amazed at how close the US Constitution was to the Iroquois Constitution when i read the entirety of the Iroquois Constitution ! ! :amazed:
magnificent updates, ALL ! !
yes ! ! it seems that the Articles of Federation were a preparation for the Constitution of the Iroquois ! !
(i think this link is the same as the one i originally read two or three years ago [more?].)
i was totally amazed at how close the US Constitution was to the Iroquois Constitution when i read the entirety of the Iroquois Constitution ! ! :amazed:
magnificent updates, ALL ! !
They'd best get their Constitution together quickly. There will be a war in the spring.
Did Hamilton die in this timeline? Because I'm sure he would have made an appearance by now; who were the two votes against?
Chief Ragusa: Washington's dead. Stewart killed him before Black came on scene. Light Horse Lee might show up though.
Mettermrck: Thanks!
dublish: In New York. Hamilton is currently setting up the Bank of New York. Historically he wouldn't return until later, but with the Constitution coming up a little early he'll have to weigh in on the Federalist side.
Judas Maccabeus: Perhaps!
Abraxas: Right now it's not. (I haven't looked at that save file in awhile. ) Assuming a major war in spring, then I'll secede a number of provinces to the Federation and fight it out.
GhostWriter: I think so. I had the Iroquois constitution on my favorites list for a long time and printed it out at one point.
Fulcrumvale: Indeed. If not sooner.
alex994: He was probably in Congress as a minor delegate until 1783 as he was historically. I meant to have him 'take over' New York's delegation at one point, but I'd already mentioned John Jay recently and couldn't really oust him. Right now Hamilton's in New York, as I said. He may weigh in before it's over.
Who voted against? Virginia and Delaware. Through this era Virginia (and to some extent the Carolinas) is one of the most wary about a strong central government. Current governor Patrick Henry and Jefferson both spoke strongly against it. As for Delaware, they're just tired of the insults.
Mettermrck: Thanks!
dublish: In New York. Hamilton is currently setting up the Bank of New York. Historically he wouldn't return until later, but with the Constitution coming up a little early he'll have to weigh in on the Federalist side.
Judas Maccabeus: Perhaps!
Abraxas: Right now it's not. (I haven't looked at that save file in awhile.
) Assuming a major war in spring, then I'll secede a number of provinces to the Federation and fight it out.GhostWriter: I think so. I had the Iroquois constitution on my favorites list for a long time and printed it out at one point.
Fulcrumvale: Indeed. If not sooner.
alex994: He was probably in Congress as a minor delegate until 1783 as he was historically. I meant to have him 'take over' New York's delegation at one point, but I'd already mentioned John Jay recently and couldn't really oust him. Right now Hamilton's in New York, as I said. He may weigh in before it's over.
Who voted against? Virginia and Delaware. Through this era Virginia (and to some extent the Carolinas) is one of the most wary about a strong central government. Current governor Patrick Henry and Jefferson both spoke strongly against it. As for Delaware, they're just tired of the insults.
-= 217 =-
Virginia
November 1784
"Sir, I wish it known for the record that I protest this decision in the strongest possible terms!"
Benjamin Lincoln leaned over the map, table and his commander. "You risk bringing unnecessary suffering upon people who have not only caused us no harm, but are our allies, and thus bringing shame to the very institution of the United States Army, not to mention Americans everywhere!"
Major General of the Army Benedict Arnold held his temper in check only by gripping the table very, very hard. He glared at Lincoln, eyes nearly bulging, his face bright red.
"Are you done, sir?" he asked coldly.
Lincoln straightened and saluted, though his left fist clenched involuntarily. "Yes, sir."
"Your objection is noted. Fear not, I have no intent of exposing you to fire."
"Sir!" Lincoln turned first pale, then bright red. "If you think I protest because I am shy, then you are right out! Further, I must ask for an explanation."
"Certainly." Arnold leaned back. "Mobile. Georgia. Savannah." Lincoln commanded the disastrous southern campaign that sent the southern army reeling before General Exeter's relentless advance in the last war. "Defeated repeatedly by a cripple. And now you seek to counsel me on strategy!? What balls, sir!"
"I don't know what you are insinuating, but I resent it!" Lincoln shouted. "I nearly lost my leg on that campaign, sir! I do not mind telling you, since it is unfortunately obvious to anyone with eyes, that my ankle troubles me all the time. Further, you do not need to remind me of my failures. I see the faces of those who died under my command most every night. Exeter may have been a cripple, as you say, but he was no fool and harried us relentlessly. I could have gone for reinforcements very easily, but instead I sent my subordinate to safety to raise us a fresh force while I stayed with our men for every single mile of that God damned march! Does that sound like cowardice? You go too far!"
"Perhaps," Arnold admitted grudgingly. "I have, on occasion, flew out." He inhaled. "Have a seat, General."
Lincoln's face stilled and he straightened again. "I'd rather stand, sir."
"Hm." Well, nothing to be done right now. "Very well, General." He clasped his hands. "As I said, I don't intend to expose you. Take that as a reflection if you wish, but the truth is I am aware of the risks you laid out in angering Virginia, and since this is my decision, it is I who should be in the vanguard if there is trouble."
"And I?"
"I thought to place you in command of the rear, with the Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Virginia men. The Virginians don't need to know we're confronting their own militia, and the others form the bulk of the army. That way if there is trouble you can withdraw north of the Potomac and alert Philadelphia."
"Philadelphia. Sir, if you will not take my counsel will you not listen to Congress? We haven't heard back from them, and..."
"What do a pack of merchants, lawyers and politicians know of war?" retorted Arnold. "No, sir. It is beyond reason that we should not advance because Virginia does not want to get involved. They will stand aside, and we will take care of our business with the Carolinans."
Lincoln shook his head, but remained silent.
"You have your orders, general. Should we succeed, you will form up and join me starting midday tomorrow. Naturally all men are to be reminded these are nominal allies, and so not to be put upon in any way, shape or form."
"Of course." He saluted, spun on his heel and stalked out.
"You handled that very badly," Arnold told himself as the flap shut. Well, he can try to put a hole in me later if he wants. After Carolina falls.
He turned to his map, lifted his quill, paused, then smiled.
He can try.
*******
The witching hour found the stealthiest and quickest of the Third Massachusetts trotting through the open fields along the western edge of Colchester, Virginia. A bright harvest moon lit the scene almost as well as dusk, the waving, dried stalks of grass blue-grey under their feet.
The wind hissed, masking their advance as they slid between the wood bars of one fence. It might have masked their scent too, for a dog howled mournfully from one darkened house but offered no pursuit. The air stank of rotting seaweed.
Pretty though, and Sergeant Jared Oakley had smelled far worse raising pigs near Springfield. He breathed easily, used to long runs, and when he looked behind him he saw the dark, bobbing shapes of his men. No one lagging. Good. He could almost be at peace if he didn't know what was coming.
After forty minutes they reached the wooden bridge crossing the Occoquan River. If anyone there challenged them...well, this would get significantly uglier. He held one hand out, palm down, then thrust towards the dirt and his men fell into the grass.
Nothing. No light, no calls. Something splashed into the river. He looked around, but they might have been in their own private dreamscape. Trees, misshapen without their leaves, rustled in the freshening breeze. Behind them the dog howled.
Four men across the bridge at a careful walk, boots echoing despite themselves on the hard wood. Eight more took up positions behind hedges on either side, ready to contest anyone trying to force their way past the last eight. Oakley glanced at the sky, trying to guess how much time had passed. One hour after they left the rest of the army would march along the Cape Fear Road through the middle of Colchester: No sense even trying to hide the advance of several thousand men.
Oakley paced across the bridge to the men guarding their southern flank. "Anything from Woodbridge?" He squinted, trying to see the distant town.
"Nothing, sir. Not a light."
"Good. Keep me informed."
"Rider coming," hissed Nicks on the north end. Oakley could hear it too - rapidly approaching hoofbeats on packed dirt and stepped across.
The rider, cloaked against the night wind and astride a dark horse, galloped towards the bridge but stopped upon seeing eight soldiers standing in front of it. They didn't raise their weapons. No need with the rider covered by their hidden brethren.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the rider. A masculine voice, adult but not old. Twenties or thirties, Oakley thought. "Stand aside!"
"Return to your home, sir."
"I have business in Woodbridge! Let me pass!"
Like warning them we're coming? "Not tonight you don't, sir. Return to your home!"
"Ruffians! Think you can just block a road?" He held up his crop. "I'll teach you some manners!"
"Brave words," Oakley replied. "Ready!" He spoke in a conversational tone, but eight muskets immediately flew up to cover the rider.
The rider paused and lowered his weapon.
"The bridge is closed, sir," Oakley said firmly. "Go home."
He snarled and immediately galloped to the west, away from both soldiers and town.
"So is the ferry," he grinned.
*******
Dawn found William Grogan sipping at tea (the only way for any civilized person to wake up) and looking over his fields. The harvest was all but done. Three or four more days hard work and he could settle in,
Rattling from the kitchen told him his young daughter Amelia continued her epic battle to put together a satisfactory breakfast. She came out now, all of six years old in a plain blue smock, holding a bowl of porridge in both hands and over her head as if it were the Holy Grail. His wife stood behind her, smiling.
"What is this now?" he asked, putting down his tea.
"For you, daddy!" piped Amelia. In her excitement her grip wavered and he snatched the bowl away.
"What a good girl," Grogan purred, rubbing her hair. He looked up at the pounding on his door. "Now who the...who on earth can that be?" His wife started towards the door, but he shook his head and stood. If someone was calling for him at dawn then it couldn't be good.
Ban, a thirteen year old barely old enough to be in the militia, jumped as he opened the door. "Master Grogan! The Americans are here!"
"I know. They've been in Colchester for a few days now. Waiting for Philadelphia to send them home, I reckon."
"No, Master Grogan! They're on our side of the river! There's a million of them!"
"What!?" He stepped outside into the cool, morning mist and squinted. Slightly downhill by the river, flanking the bridge, underneath a handful of proud banners flapping in the orange-grey air. "Lord!"
"Will there be a battle?" Ban demanded excitedly. "Can I come?"
"God forbid, and yes. Wake your pa too, if he isn't up already. Tell everyone to meet me in the green!"
*******
Benedict Arnold squinted through his spyglass at the distant village. Men tumbled out of their houses with muskets and a few hunting rifles. Some wore hats against the chill, few bothered with uniforms. He had nearly two thousand men across, arrayed in a rough semicircle to guard the bridgehead, with more coming all the time.
"Steady, men!" he called, trusting his commanders to relay the message. "Do not fire unless fired upon. I don't care how they provoke us! We don't want a fight here!" Hopefully they are smarter than they are proud. To his acting adjutant: "Major, let me know when the New York First is completely across. We will parley...no, stay." Arnold shifted his glass to the right, where elements of the Massachusetts Second converged on Woodbridge. Overnight they'd seized Gordon's Ferry and so crossed to flank the town. "Stay. I think we've given them enough to think about."
9:00, 8 November 1784
By now the Virginia militia had more or less formed on the outskirts of town, pivoting slightly to face the new threat. One rider, either on his own initiative or by order, broke and galloped south towards Richmond.
"I suppose that couldn't be helped," Arnold muttered. "Very well. Major? Form an honor guard and come with me."
Twenty men, a large number in case the nervously shifting militiamen should try any mischief or feel unduly outraged, flanked General Arnold as he galloped towards the main Virginian line and stopped just outside comfortable musket range. The Virginians raised their muskets almost to a man, and for one unpleasant moment he thought they might risk the throw anyway.
"What the devil!?" Behind him some fool shouted an order,and the Third Massachusetts surged into motion, a thousand footsteps making the ground vibrate. "Major! Go back there and stop those men!" If the Virginians panicked... "Honor Guard! Stand down. Do not draw your weapons unless attacked!"
After a little over a minute the wayward regiment ground to a halt again, and a tense silence ensued. The wind whistled, teasing Arnold's hair as he studied the militiamen: Farmers most of them, with little training if any. That didn't mean they couldn't shoot, however. Unless one lived in a major city, one pretty much had to be a good shot to survive out here. Nervous, though...
Finally a small party or five men rode out to meet them, one flying the state banner over his head.
"Colors!" Arnold commanded, and the American flag spread, flapping as the breeze freshened.
"William Grogan, Captain, Virginia militia."
"Benedict Arnold, Major General in Command."
They exchanged polite salutes, Grogan a little more coldly. "May I ask your intention for crossing the Occoquan in force?"
"Yes. We are marching through Virginia on the way to North Carolina. We have no intentions regarding Woodbridge or your entire state."
Grogan shook his head. "General, I spoke with who I took to be your adjutant, a Major General Lincoln. I explained to him that my orders from Williamsburg are to bar any passage down the Cape Fear Road by northern militias or the Army. I regret the inconvenience, but..."
"So I was told," Arnold agreed. "Now you may tell Williamsburg that you did your utmost to fulfill your duty. I will testify to that effect. We are coming through."
"With respect, sir, my orders do not permit it."
"Captain, I advise you to look around very carefully. We are coming through. If you contest it, we will be forced to defend ourselves and neutralize the town. That would be exceptionally unpleasant for both your people and mine. The resulting fight would also cause great suffering and death. So far no one has been hurt. I earnestly want it to remain that way."
Grogan looked around uncertainly. So many guns... "I cannot yield, sir."
Arnold shook his head. "And I will not. Captain, your men are fine fellows I make no doubt, but they are not as well trained as mine. I also see some boys over there who really shouldn't be fighting except to defend their homes. I give you my word, your town does not interest me. We are merely passing through and wish to do so in peace. Withdraw now and you can keep your weapons and your honor."
"This is a very blaggardly thing to be doing, General," Grogan snapped.
"It's a blaggardly world," Arnold replied. "Now, may we pass?"
"I have no choice."
Washington dead. Explains a few things.
Benedict Arnold leading an army through Virginia is not the most sensible decision he could have made. It is the only one that has to be, no matter what the political fallout. Arnold is counting on being through Virginia before the county militias can concentrate in sufficient numbers to stop him. It is something only Arnold would think to try or pull off.
Benedict Arnold leading an army through Virginia is not the most sensible decision he could have made. It is the only one that has to be, no matter what the political fallout. Arnold is counting on being through Virginia before the county militias can concentrate in sufficient numbers to stop him. It is something only Arnold would think to try or pull off.
So there are now three states more or less independent of Philadelphia's rule. But there are still Virginian regiments in the army that may end up fighting against the Virgibian militia. I sense trouble heading their way... Especially since I'm as puzzled as alex994 about what Grogan's 'choice' was
Why can’t Arnold sea-transport his men into Carolina? America had something like the second largest merchant marine in the world at this time, so it’s not unreasonable to think that they could scrounge up enough freighters to do so.
About time these Virginians gave way...I almost thought for a moment Grogan would lead his men to their deaths over a point of honor. Keep marching!
The freight companies were loyalist and moved elsewhere whatever their home port of registration said; back to London or to Canada - for the most part. Where they weren't, they sided with their states rather than Philadelphia.Fulcrumvale said:
The US currency was worthless, freighter captains probably wouldn't have accepted payment in paper. So much paper was issued by the states, especially Virginia, and Congress that it soon cost a million dollars to buy a pair of trousers. Part of that problem was that the states that had gold reserves wouldn't back the paper issues of those that didn't
alex994: Hm, that probably could have been a little clearer considering how much of an argument Grogan was putting up. Yes, he realized that if he fought it'd be futile, so let Arnold pass.
Chief Ragusa: Exactly. Arnold's a proud man, and ultimately being told "no" by state militia was more than he could stand. He's hoping that either 1) Virginia won't think it's worth the fight, or 2) to be out before Virginia can decide what to do.
Abraxas: The Virginian regiments in Arnold's army are going to be trouble. If there IS a real fight, they might very well switch teams. That could be catastrophic.
Fulcrumvale:
There are a couple of reasons.
First, the merchant marine isn't organized well (if at all) yet. Given some of the reasons America fought Britain, it wouldn't go over well to suddenly seize/appropriate merchants for troop transport, especially as there IS no war going on right now.
They could pay the captains, but as Ragusa notes the economy is a MESS right now. I don't feel it'd be as bad as it was historically, but there's no real federal banking system yet. (Hamilton isn't Secretary of the Treasury) Prices would have spiked during war time and deflation's only just beginning.
US Inflation Index 1800-2007
On this scale (100 = 1967) I estimate the current value to be about 60. It'll drop to 50 by 1800, and won't reach this level again except for once in 1814 (war time), once in 1920, and finally 'for good' in 1947. The American economy is only starting to stabilize....merchant captains are either going to charge exorbitant sums or not trust the currency to begin with.
Third: Carolina has a navy. Wilmington and Charleston (the likely places for an assault) have forts. Any such attempt would be heavily contested.
Mettermrck: Onward to uh...trouble!
COMMENTS: No update today I'm afraid. I just wanted to take a moment to say Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, and thank you for your support over the years. Hopefully we'll finish before this AAR turns FOUR.
Chief Ragusa: Exactly. Arnold's a proud man, and ultimately being told "no" by state militia was more than he could stand. He's hoping that either 1) Virginia won't think it's worth the fight, or 2) to be out before Virginia can decide what to do.
Abraxas: The Virginian regiments in Arnold's army are going to be trouble. If there IS a real fight, they might very well switch teams. That could be catastrophic.
Fulcrumvale:
There are a couple of reasons.
First, the merchant marine isn't organized well (if at all) yet. Given some of the reasons America fought Britain, it wouldn't go over well to suddenly seize/appropriate merchants for troop transport, especially as there IS no war going on right now.
They could pay the captains, but as Ragusa notes the economy is a MESS right now. I don't feel it'd be as bad as it was historically, but there's no real federal banking system yet. (Hamilton isn't Secretary of the Treasury) Prices would have spiked during war time and deflation's only just beginning.
US Inflation Index 1800-2007
On this scale (100 = 1967) I estimate the current value to be about 60. It'll drop to 50 by 1800, and won't reach this level again except for once in 1814 (war time), once in 1920, and finally 'for good' in 1947. The American economy is only starting to stabilize....merchant captains are either going to charge exorbitant sums or not trust the currency to begin with.
Third: Carolina has a navy. Wilmington and Charleston (the likely places for an assault) have forts. Any such attempt would be heavily contested.
Mettermrck: Onward to uh...trouble!
COMMENTS: No update today I'm afraid. I just wanted to take a moment to say Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, and thank you for your support over the years. Hopefully we'll finish before this AAR turns FOUR.
CatKnight: ..."... What balls, sir!"
Arnold sure has a long memory ! !
CatKnight: ...since this is my decision, it is I who should be in the vanguard if there is trouble."
at least Arnold that that part of things right ! !
CatKnight: ..."Rider coming,"..."Return to your home, sir."..."The bridge is closed, sir,"...He snarled and immediately galloped to the west..."So is the ferry,"...
awesome sequence ! ! all bases covered ! !
CatKnight: ..."No, Master Grogan! They're on our side of the river! There's a million of them!"
well, at least his ability to count is accurate ! ! :wacko:
CatKnight: ..."...Tell everyone to meet me in the green!"
much too late ! !
CatKnight: ...Unless one lived in a major city, one pretty much had to be a good shot to survive out here. Nervous, though...
this reminded me of Sgt. Alvin York, of US WW1 fame...
CatKnight: ..."It's a blaggardly world," Arnold replied. "Now, may we pass?"..."I have no choice."
yield, or cause the destruction of his town. yep. no choice.
magnificent update ! !
Arnold sure has a long memory ! !
CatKnight: ...since this is my decision, it is I who should be in the vanguard if there is trouble."
at least Arnold that that part of things right ! !
CatKnight: ..."Rider coming,"..."Return to your home, sir."..."The bridge is closed, sir,"...He snarled and immediately galloped to the west..."So is the ferry,"...
awesome sequence ! ! all bases covered ! !
CatKnight: ..."No, Master Grogan! They're on our side of the river! There's a million of them!"
well, at least his ability to count is accurate ! ! :wacko:
CatKnight: ..."...Tell everyone to meet me in the green!"
much too late ! !
CatKnight: ...Unless one lived in a major city, one pretty much had to be a good shot to survive out here. Nervous, though...
this reminded me of Sgt. Alvin York, of US WW1 fame...
CatKnight: ..."It's a blaggardly world," Arnold replied. "Now, may we pass?"..."I have no choice."
yield, or cause the destruction of his town. yep. no choice.
magnificent update ! !
Ghostwriter: Thanks! Yep, Grogan really couldn't win that one.
dublish: Hmf! Maybe we should just let him comment and I'll be quiet for a bit
*******
COMMENT: Well, as I wrote this out it occured to me this would have made a pretty good Xmas post...so consider it a late present.
On the other hand, if you're uhm...hm...shall we say really into your faith, you might want to take this next post with a grain of salt.
Though it explains a lot.
dublish: Hmf! Maybe we should just let him comment and I'll be quiet for a bit
*******
COMMENT: Well, as I wrote this out it occured to me this would have made a pretty good Xmas post...so consider it a late present.
On the other hand, if you're uhm...hm...shall we say really into your faith, you might want to take this next post with a grain of salt.
Though it explains a lot.
-= 218 =-
South Carolina
November 1784
"This was not a good idea," John said, arms folded against the cold. He shook his head and tried to pierce the icy drizzle and fog to the forest beyond. "I'm sorry, Cass. I may have dished us this time."
"Don't say that," Cassie protested. She huddled in the middle of an abandoned barn in what would have been Greenville had a party of Cherokee not massacred the population as Christiana snorted and whimpered next to a small fire. For the last week they'd eaten only what could easily be foraged as they marched and Cass could feel her milk drying up. If it failed entirely... no, she couldn't think of that.
He shook his head slowly. As a rule John tried not to involve his wife with his worries, especially after her ordeal. Still, he could feel defeat and despair welling up, a thick wave that made his heart hurt more than his stomach. It made sense to look for Tom where he'd last seen him, but he shouldn't have brought a wife and daughter along. "Fool," he muttered.
"Come and sit by the fire. You'll feel better." She looked down as he turned, gently stroking their daughter's hair. "This isn't so bad," she added. "I mean, at least we're away from... from the governor."
"As well as..," Preston cleared his throat. "You never did tell me what happened."
"You know what happened!" she cried, looking up.
"I mean...how? No, I mean... Cassie, how in God's name did he... He had your knife. Did he come to the house?"
She shook her head and stared at the fire, tears pooling her eyes. "Don't make me do this, Johnny."
He took a deep breath, nodded and sat next to her. "Sorry."
She nodded. He took her hand and her eyes closed tightly. They'd barely touched since her rape, certainly hadn't made love. He wondered if she would ever be alright.
First, though, they had to survive the winter. "I think we need to give up finding Tom. It's unnaturally cold lately. We'll go back to Columbia. If we keep our own counsel then the Guard won't find us before spring."
"I think we need to stay, Johnny." Cassie took back her hand and shook her head. "I don't think Chris can take much more walking. She needs to stay warm. We can forage what we can and hunt the rest. This whole town is wood. We'll be warm enough." She tried to laugh. Neither choice guaranteed their survival.
He looked down at their daughter. She did seem to be sniffling more. "Cass, nonetheless I..."
The outside air lit up and smelled of ozone as the sky roared defiance ending in a deafening clap. Christiana woke immediately and screamed. John leapt to his feet and drew his knife, then shook his head and sheathed it. He would have commented on the strange weather, but the baby's cries crushed any hope of conversation. Instead he paced to the front of the barn.
Not thirty feet away lay the smoldering body of a whitetail buck.
"Cass! I..," She couldn't hear him. Good fortune? Divine intervention? Who cared? He emerged into the hissing November drizzle and approached the fallen animal. The lightning strike burned much of its head and back beyond recognition, but the rest looked intact. He grit his teeth against the powerful smell of burnt flesh and memories of his first trip to Greenville, managed to bearhug the animal under its forelegs and dragged it into the barn. 100-150 pounds, six feet long. If they could keep the meat from rotting too soon... "Cassie!"
He turned to find a soaked orange tabby enjoying his fire.
"She came in just a minute ago," Cassie smiled, sniffling. Chris lay cuddled in her arms sniffling. "What have you there?"
"Lightning hit a deer! Can you believe our luck?"
The cat opened her eyes and yawned.
"That's wonderful!" Cassie's stomach gave a furious growl and she hugged her daughter closer with relief.
"I think I remember how to do this." He hadn't had to clean his own meat since the last war. John turned, drew his knife and went to work.
*******
Three hours later they sat in companionable silence, their stomachs quiet for a moment, with Christiana snorting at her mother's bosom. The tabby picked at a few fatty scraps they'd given her.
"Maybe she doesn't like it?" Cassie asked.
"Well, she can eat it or starve," John retorted. He'd be damned if he would cater to the whims of a...
It's very rude to say that about a guest.
"I'm sorry, Cass. I know you think she's good luck, and maybe so, but..."
"Did I say anything!?"
The tabby found a morsel she could live with and nibbled at it. John blinked and shook his head. "I'm just tired."
Yes.
Preston curled up and went to sleep, feeling better than he had in days. The deer wouldn't last forever of course, but it would buy him a few days to go hunt something else. Plenty of water, and with the fire they could keep warm enough. In time Cassie followed, one arm wrapped protectively around their bundled daughter. The tabby alone stayed awake, and that barely.
A little before midnight Bast stepped into the cold night air. Unnaturally cold for this time of year, which suggested her brother was absorbing a lot of the local energy to prepare something big. She only hoped these people could convince Heyward to resume the fight. Not that they seemed all that bright, even by human standards.
She hummed and whispered words in a language long dead, staring up at the clouded sky. This would also take quite a bit of energy and she closed her eyes, drawing it in from the trees and grass, the handful of remaining insects and distant animals. Bast hissed a short command and slowly the clouds swirled away revealing a widening circle of stars.
"Now," Bast snarled in the same language, "Burn!" Six hundred miles overhead a small asteroid passing close to the planet caught fire, a brilliant star blotting out its neighbors. The cat stumbled, drained, and rolled onto her side staring up at her creation.
"A bit corny," she muttered. "But it worked last time."
So we have a couple with a baby in a barn, which could pass for a stable, in a winter night with a brilliant star in the sky. An Xmas post indeed. I'm just wondering who'll follow the signal this time...
How did Bast outrun Tom? I like her method of SOS. What makes her think it is Black gathering in the local energy? Tom's plan (wasp sting's) needs ooddles of energy.