When Stars Align || G. Lafayette

Chapter 14

October 19, 1779

General Washington,

Plans from our last meeting have yet to fail me. There is no further east we can drive the British, yet they continuously find a new route of retreat. I've gained victories, but not a single surrender. As I write, they're retreating north. Be ready for an attack on two frontiers.

Levi King

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For the first time in forever, camp was quiet.

Camp was peacefully quiet, for almost the first time since we began as a batallion.

Camp was unusually quiet.

Camp was almost suspiciously quiet.

All in all, camp was quiet, but a bit too quiet.

So the chaos that began the afternoon of October 19th should have come as far from a surprise.

It was a chilly day, too cold for just a light jacket, but not quite cold enough for our soldiers to be genuinely uncomfortable.

We'd just won a battle against a division of the British army, driving them further north, and camp was being cleaned up. Fragments of destroyed buildings and tents lie everywhere, just waiting for a soldier to come by and pick it up, hauling it to the edge of camp to build up parapets in preparation for the future. Everyone had enough time to rest, no one was unhappy.

Until the horse came charging through.

I hadn't even noticed; I was writing to John down south when it happened, and as twenty minutes never passed without someone on horseback, I of course thought nothing of it. Until the aides flooded my tent.

"Sir!" My head snapped up as I flinched violently, smearing ink all down the remainder of my parchment. I cursed and shoved the parchment aside, turning around with an annoyed but expectant look to see at least five young men crowded at the opening of the tent, and my eyes widened.

"I-- What's happened?" I sputtered, and the first aide swallowed hard.

"You're going to need to see this. It isn't just something that can be told." I furrowed my brow, cocking my head slightly to the side before slowly standing, and the man lead me out of the tent to the center of camp. At first all I saw was the horse, until I realized.

The rush of surprise, of disgust, genuinely felt like a physical blow, and I nearly keeled over at the sight in front of me as I gasped, clapping a hand to my mouth.

"No," I murmured, "No, no, no." I turned to the aide. "He... he's not dead, is he? He can't be!" It felt like an eternity waiting for a response, and I felt the intense urge to rush over and shake the answer out of him.

Finally, he shook his head.

I sighed in relief. "Oh, god, praise the lord. I-- What do we do now?"

His eyes widened. "You're asking me?"

I slightly cringed. I probably shouldn't be. "No, no, I mean... no. Has anyone called a medic?"

He nodded. "Mr. Hamilton should be fetching him now."

My jaw dropped in slight surprise. "Wait, you mean he knew before me? Why did you not immediately come to me?!" As he simpered guiltily, I sighed, dropping my face into my hands. "Alright, whatever, just-- just get help. Now." He hastily nodded before rushing off, and I sighed as I turned back to the horse.

Blood dripped down its side, and we had to have soldiers holding it in place just so as to keep in from freaking out and bucking off its occupant. It was whinnying wildly, tugging on its reins as my focus shifted up to the man who sat atop it.