Possession

Chapter 1

The sound of glass shattering somewhere in the house roused him and his wife from their restful sleep. More glass breaking and the sound of a door being broken down was enough to let them know that they had good reason to be alarmed. The sound of rapid footfalls pounding through the darkened abode sent a clear message that the couple was doomed.

Their bedroom door flew open and two figures entered, swords drawn. The master of the house, still on his bed, had no time to reach for his own sword, stowed away against the wall behind him. Even if he had reached it, taking on two members of the British Army was suicide. He might have had a chance against one, but not two. Sometime after realizing the futility of his situation, both he and his wife became aware of a steady set of footfalls making their way up the stairs amid the backdrop of chaos occurring on the lower level of the house. The footsteps continued, up the hall, closer and closer, finally coming to a stop right outside the master bedroom. The Mr. and Mrs. of the household watched the doorway with intent and anticipation. And then he appeared, stepping out of the darkness into the moonlit bedroom.

Colonel William Tavington studied his latest prisoners. The sight of them huddled together on the bed made him sick. He hated these colonials. Always going on about their precious rights and freedoms. Rubbish. They were all a bunch of traitors, biting the very hand that feeds them. And they would receive what they duly deserved.

"Mr. and Mrs. George Harris," Tavington began, taking on an official attitude. "You have been lawfully charged and convicted of treason for conspiring against Britain and the Royal Crown. Your sentence – execution by firing squad. Your possessions and property will subsequently become the property of Britain and the British Army. Do you have any last words?"

Harris pulled himself up tall in his spot on the bed. A look of unshakable pride appeared on his face, and he said nothing.

"Very well then," Tavington said. He stepped out into the hallway, back into the shadows. Two soldiers entered the bedroom, joining the other two and taking up positions inside so that collectively they formed a semi-circle which effectively enclosed the bed where the couple lay.

"Ready!" the order was announced. Then, "Take aim!" The four soldiers raised their rifles and aimed their barrels squarely at Harris and his wife. There was no escape for them, and they knew it.

"Liberty or death!" Harris exclaimed in what he knew was his final moment.

"Fire!" All four soldiers fired.

Death it was, Tavington thought sardonically, walking away from the door. He descended the stairs of the British Army's newest piece of acquired property. Despite his distaste for its former occupants, the house had its merits. He reached the foot of the stairs, admiring the woodwork on the stair banister before he started for the door. He absently appraised the house's contents on the way out, making mental notes of the items he passed, quickly assessing their value. The house would be torched of course, but that didn't mean the valuables inside were destined to perish, as well. Once he was outside, Tavington was made aware of some additional 'valuables' that had belonged to that cad Harris. Two of Tavington's men approached him on the way back to his horse.

"Sir, we found five slaves," one of the officers reported. "What are your orders concerning them?"

"Tie them to the horses," Tavington instructed. "We'll take them back to camp along with the rest of the confiscated property."

"Yes, sir." The officer hurried off to comply with the colonel's orders.

Juliana Harris kept her dark eyes focused on the ground as her hands were forcefully and tightly bound with rope and tied to the horse in front of her. She had no idea what was going to happen to her or any of the other slaves. She didn't know if they were going to be dragged along at high speeds, if they were going to be killed, or they were just being tied up so that they wouldn't run away. She wanted to look around, to see what was going on, but she didn't dare look up from the ground and draw attention to herself. Right now, her one goal was to just stay alive. She would worry about the rest later.