One Big Mistake

After the slaughter in the woods, a stiff calm hung over the night, broken only by a rider and his steed as they tramped out of the forest. The rider was solemn for a change, his mouth set in a grim scowl, as he cradled the body of a strange girl with an arm.
His mind was now full of questions and confusion, calculating and reasoning, trying to find a meaning to that past event.
Had he not met her, he would have been trotting back to camp, feeling energized by the bloodlust and refreshed from the fight. But now, he now had with him something that didn’t seem welcoming. Changing his previous outlook to that of suspicion. What was this wench doing there? Unarmed and unprepared for a travel through the woods, wearing nothing but the most ridiculous and bizarre clothing he had ever seen. What business had she there, and especially with those youths?
Obviously they must be dark intentions. He thought sourly, he had much to say about the inferior and weaker sex, and none of them were complimentary. He’ll bet that they were plotting a conspiracy against the armies, some shallow and foolish plan the youths had likely came up. But what of the clothes? He had never seen anything like them, especially her trousers, with hundreds of pockets sewn into them? Imagine!
And yet, they were all empty…
The Hessian hung his head and sighed. This was too much for him to handle. If he doesn’t stop now the thoughts will haunt him all night and rob him of his sleep. In any case, she’ll be the commander’s problem, not his. She’d more likely be tortured for information and hanged for her treason against the king. He didn’t know why he should care.

The movement that Daredevil was making suddenly caused the girl to bump her head squarely on his chest, and a loud moan escaped out of her lips. The Hessian sighed again, this time heavily, as he felt the wench arouse herself in his arms.

“Yow…”
Jodi clutched her head with one hand, screwing her eyes shut as the pounding of her head came back with vengeance. She felt one side of her scalp tighter than the rest, and feeling it with blind fingers told her that she now had a massive bump growing there. It didn’t really help when she felt the dawn of a mild hangover coming up to her.
Well, at least the rocking felt nice…
She stopped, rocking? She thought. The rest of her senses came back to her. One of her feet was bare and rubbing against something warm and hairy, her ass was numb, sitting sideways in an uncomfortable position on something hard, with what felt like a thick iron bar supporting her back. That, and the stink that reminded her of sweat and hay clung onto her nostrils.
Opening her eyes, she found herself staring at the back of a horse’s head, covered with a bridle and other such things she just couldn’t name.
Uneasiness grew inside her. She was not back in Sleepy Hollow, she already knew that before she even opened her eyes, but what affected her more was that she’s on a horse, one of the animal species she feared and strongly disliked, and that a stranger was guiding it.
Jodi’s eyes looked up, and froze. Oh God, it’s him. She recognized the ornate metal of his armor, now shining gray from the rising blue hue of the sky, and the shape of his collared cape. But nothing prepared her for his face. He looked ghastly, his tightly-drawn skin was so pale Jodi likened him to that of a corpse, and his teeth made her skin crawl. She could see their sharpened points just peeking from his mouth, making her instinctively pull her lips inwards. But it wasn’t the deathly pallor or his teeth that gave her fear, it was when she met those eyes did she quickly look away. They were intense, alive; it was like his face was a mask and these eyes were literally the very windows of his soul. She felt them bore right through her despite the hooded eyelids; it scared her.
They can’t be real! She thought,No one else has eyes like that, it’s impossible.
But then a memory flickered before her eyes. The eyes reminded her of that dream she had only a few hours ago, that girl whose eyes that shone like blue flames past her horrible face, they were almost identical.
Jodi shook herself. What the hell was she doing? She’s right in the arms of a psychotic murderer, and she’s thinking about the crazy stuff she had dreamt?!
She had to do something, but her mind, despite of the heavy pounding of pain, was a complete blank. She didn’t know why and where he was taking her, but she didn’t want to ask either. She feared talking would trigger something that can cause him to hurt her.
She dared to look up at his face again. He looked like he was focusing on the horse, but she saw him staring back at her at the corner of his eye, his expression cold and unreceptive.
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. At least, it was uncomfortable for her; he seemed much more composed while she shifted awkwardly on his lap, occasionally shooting glances at him when she’d thought he had looked away from her, only to stare down at herself when she met his eyes. But she failed to notice that her struggles for comfort were beginning to bother him. All she could detect of his own discomfort were the tightening of his hold on her shoulder, and the flinching that quaked through his body whenever she scooted about. It wasn’t until when, without warning, did he suddenly pull at her, she almost shrieked.

“Enough!” He barked; he shook her, forcing her to look at him. Jodi was stricken dumb with fear as he stared at her hard, his lips curled back and baring his teeth like a ferocious animal. But the anger on his face quickly melted, only to be replaced with a satisfied sneer, as his eyes traced her face from top to bottom. He leaned her aside, reestablished his grip on the reigns, and kicked his horse gently at the sides, spurring his horse to quicken the pace as he overlooked the direction they were riding towards.
Jodi sat there as if she were frozen, her hands on her chest clenched into tight fists, her chest burning as she held her breath, overwhelmed by his sudden switch to aggression. Seconds drew into minutes, until finally she began to breathe.
It was then when she saw the multiple firelights in the distance did she somehow relax. So this was where he’s taking me. She thought, noting ruefully of the sheer absence of any modern light. They drew close enough for her to see the shapes of tents littering the place; they were numerous with several different shapes, made of natural cloth. She then saw the firelight belonging to that of torches and campfires.
How old-fashioned.
Just like the guys in the forest. They had been panicking about her cell phone earlier, and never once did they call it by its proper term. They only identified it as an ‘unholy light.’
“Who are you people?” She exclaimed, looking up to the man. Her words came out sharper and quicker than she intended to, and she immediately clamped her mouth shut.
The Hessian looked down at the upturned face of the wench, confused for a moment by her voice. It was whiney and high-pitched, not at all like the clipped, lower-pitch voices of the English here, but her words were pronounced well enough to be native.
He considered ignoring her, let her know that he couldn’t care less whether or not she knows her destination here. He even wondered as to what she meant, surely everyone knows what he is, and what he stood for. She should know as well…shouldn’t she?
He could see the question in her eyes, not even meeting his own, of course, but he suddenly felt an element of curiosity of how she would react if he told her.
“The English Army.” He stated simply, and he felt her stiffen.
“No.” She said, she huffed a laugh of disbelief. “You’re not.”
Indeed, he wasn’t; but that had changed since he was dispatched here two years ago, that was the truth in her words. But he was still confused. Did she mean him, or the army?
“You can’t be for real.” She continued to murmur, shaking her head. She seemed to be talking to herself. She was smiling as she did this, a tight forced smile. The Hessian did a double take when he saw how perfectly straight her teeth were.
How the devil--?
“Who goes there?!”
The both of them looked up, noticing for the first time the watchman in front of his makeshift post, a young redcoat (most of them had to be young), with his flintlock musket pointing towards them.
“It is I!” Shouted back the Hessian, “The Hessian Corporal, put down your weapon, you idiot!”
The watchman balked, recognizing the harsh tone of the man. Jodi rubbed one of her sore ears with the heel of her palm after he shot his words across to the guard. Suddenly, the horse sprinted forwards in a canter, forcing Jodi to grab hold of the Hessian in a desperate act for security. He tensed, but did nothing as they rode towards post.
“What did I tell you about pointing your gun like that?” He snapped.
“I’m sorry!” The watchman exclaimed, ducking his head in remorse.
“You could have shot me.” He growled, “Or my horse! Keep your gun ready for use, but only point it to the enemy, understood?”
“Y-yes, Corporal.”
Jodi was staring at the guard, studying him from his grimy face down to his wooden clogs. His uniform was stained and torn in a few places, but it was clearly the very image of an 18th century soldier of Britain. It didn’t look like the clothes worn by reenactors, the sewing on the seams were horrendous and done with different kinds of thread. Her scrutiny on the man was cut short when the Hessian clicked his tongue, signaling the horse to move on. The watchman wasn’t even looking at the horseman, so he didn’t notice her until they rode away. She continued to look on, witnessing him as his jaw dropped for a moment, and then raced from his post, apparently to spread some news of their arrival.
She flinched when she felt his strong hand grip on her own. She had his collar on a death-grip, as well as having her other arm wrapped over his waist. He tried to pry each of her fingers off of the soft, velvety material.
“Let go of me.” He ordered, pulling at her hand. Jodi silently obliged, being careful not to see the expression on his face.
“Why did you take me--?”
“SCHISST!” He shushed her, turning her around to face the front. All the while as Jodi’s face burned with fury and exasperation. She’s now had it with being pushed around with everyone she had met so far, especially being treated as if she wasn’t even worth listening to! They wouldn’t even answer most of her questions for Christ’s sake!
Jodi huffed and looked away. She took a quick interest with the whereabouts they were in, exchanging glances with every staring face they came by. Every one of them seemed almost the same as the watchman; filthy and scruffy in appearance, dressed in uniforms either the same as that redcoat or something different. Jodi had never studied the history of the American Revolution, so she cannot recognize what these other soldiers stood for. As they tramped further and further into the camp, filthy cheap tents soon gave way to the more larger and sophisticated, the men that passed them wore cleaner uniforms and shining boots, the women were there as well, although more haggard in appearance, carrying big baskets of laundry as they went. The reaction she got from them was generally looks of curiosity, shock or perhaps even horror. But she was more concerned with their appearances, the more and more they traveled, the more and more she began to doubt her sanity. She wanted to believe that she had somehow walked into the past, it really seemed to answer these previous moments she had gotten herself into, given the behavior and appearances of the others, but that was too simple a reason. Instead, she assumed that she’s in some sort of deep sleep, or perhaps sitting around in a straightjacket inside some asylum, delirious and out of touch of reality.
The thought of her in a straightjacket made her suddenly depressed. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the horseman, hearing him hiss in annoyance made her moods sourer. If he told her to get off she’ll tell him that he can go—
“Corporal!”
Jodi’s head jerked up, seeing a short, rotund man waddling up to them for the first time. The rider pulled at the reins, making the horse stop at his tracks. Once more, Jodi was amazed by the horse’s efficiency. He obeys all those little acts without question, and the rider was so comfortable on him that Jodi felt jealous. Her mom used to take her horse-riding as a child, just because the well-to-do next-door-neighbor’s kid does it; she spent a whole year’s worth of Saturdays riding horses, and never once did she get used to them. Her mother took it as a deliberate act of discrepancy that caused her reluctance. Looking back, she supposed it was. But she couldn’t help imagining within every second that the horse is going to throw her off, kick her, bite her, or just go nuts and run off with her still on its saddle. Jodi had fought row after row with her when the lessons soon demanded her to learn how to canter. She knew it wasn’t as hard-core as galloping, but it terrified her so much she stomped, cried, yelled and used every trick in the book to get her parents to bail her out.
Nevertheless, she knew it was admirable to be able to have a commanding presence and control over an animal. Jodi watched with interest as the man walked up to them, followed by an entourage by very well-dressed individuals approximately the same age as the man was, perhaps middle-aged or more. A corner of her mouth turned up when she saw that they all wore white powdered wigs. Jodi had to suppress the urge to snicker when she saw one of them actually sporting a love-patch, his face bleach-white and lips painted. Talk about a total fop.
“Where have you been all this time?” The large man shouted, he seemed to have an authority over the rider, although she couldn’t feel him slump in apology or try to explain himself. Instead the rider was still and quiet, inviting the man to rant and rave.
“Five times! Five times you have done this to me, I give you specific orders to stay in camp and train the soldiers as you were supposed to do, but do you heed my words? No! Instead you ride off to heaven-knows-where without a warning and…and…”
He was staring at her now, one hand held up as if trying to grasp something, just as he tried to grasp something to say. Finally one of them leaned forward and demanded, “Who is she?”
“Precisely! Corporal! You owe us an explanation!”
Jodi took a quick grab for the pommel when the horseman dismounted, she daren’t look away from the horse as it shook its head and snorted irritatingly, obviously not liking the stranger that now sat on him.
“I was patrolling through the woods when I encountered a group of youths running from this direction.” He said, sounding matter-of-factly. Had she not been preoccupied with the horse, she would have noted that he had toned down his accent, speaking clearly and more pronounced than he had towards her.
“A group of…youths.” The rotund man said; his tone was anything but questioning.
“Yes.” The horseman said, this time amused. “They attacked me so I…fought them back. With them I also found this.”
He slapped a hand on the back of the saddle in emphasis.
Jodi whipped her head at his direction, curious to what he meant. Had he also found my cell phone? She wondered, she didn’t wholly believe it, but he didn’t question her about her clothes either. When she saw him she found that he had pointed a finger at her direction, smug and brazen.
Jodi wanted to say something, anything to wipe that look off his face. But what was she to say? That he attacked them first? That it was an over-kill? That doesn’t seem very creative or logical. More likely they would have laughed in her face had she said so. She knew life was harsh, cruel and overall brutal for many in the 18th century. All these well-dressed individuals might have their very own slaves that they hardly gave a damn about, or had plots of land and mines in which men, women and children had probably wasted their lives and health working for less money than they should have been paid.
Suddenly an idea sparked into life in her mind. She smirked at the thought. Let’s see if I do this.

Jodi bowed, placing her hand on her chest as she rose to meet them with her softened eyes, her eyebrows raised and a solemn, grateful look on her face,
“Yes.” She said nodding, “He saved my life, and I am indebted to him.”