Back in my tent, I sat on my bedroll, and waited for the meal that had never came. The time to sneak away was tonight. The dark night sky would cover my escape before the soldiers awoke in the morning. I led them to believe I was compliant most of the time that I was with them, but I was biding my time for the opportunity to escape. I had not known exactly where we were before, the terrain was unfamiliar. But I knew for the first time I knew where to go. I visited Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania once before and had an idea where on the fork of the rivers the fort sat. If the men were to attack it in the morning, we had to be nearby the fort. My plan was to sneak out of the tent, head there, and get the help that I desperately needed. I needed to get to the British to save them from trying to be heroes and defend the fort against the amassed French army. Most of all, I needed to save myself.
I grabbed my satchel and listened for movement outside of the tent. My heart raced. If they didn’t hear my movement, surely the heard my heart pound. There would be a guard at the front, so I couldn’t escape that way. I knew there should be no one on the backside of the tent. My tent was at the furthest edge of the encampment, instead of the usual middle, surrounded by everyone. They had put me as far away from the rest of the men as they had joined in order to keep my presence unknown. If they had not hidden me away, my plan would not work. Fortunately for me, the tent was near a heavily wooded area, which would give me the opportunity to slip out unseen. If I could get out unheard by the guard. Quiet, heart.
I laid on my stomach and lifted the edge of the tent and pried out a couple of the stakes from the ground. My plan to belly crawl to freedom sounded so much easier in my head. As I pulled myself out of the tent, my satchel caught the edge. Lose the satchel or bring down the tent? I wasn’t willing to take either one of the options. I slowed down, untangled the satchel, and wiggled my way out of the tent.
The dark night would hide me, but it would add a little complication to my escape plan. If I could see no one, surely, they could not see me. I slid underneath the edge and moved towards the trees. Leaves crunched under my feet. If I ran, it would be loud and draw more attention to the noise. I took tender steps, trying to minimize the loudness of the crackle and crunch of the dried leaves. At first the moon did not provide as much light as I would have liked to see where I was going, but I knew the darkness would help keep me hidden from the soldiers. My eyes adjusted to the dark as I made my way away from the camp north through the woods and followed the river towards the fort.
The woods had thinned along the river. The moon came out from hiding behind clouds, making my trek north slightly easier. I stopped by the river. Moonlight reflected off the river. “This isn't right. Where are all the buildings?” I asked the man in the moon, as if I expected him to answer. The concrete? The asphalt? The cars? The people? “This isn't Pittsburgh.” My chest heaved, and my breath shortened. I panicked. “This makes little sense. This doesn't make sense.” I paced back and forth as I twisted the wedding ring around my finger and searched for a plausible answer. I did not want to ask the question that lingered in the back of my mind. The question I had tried to keep hidden. Did that incident at Fort Ashby pull me through some sort of time portal? Is it possible?
As I regained my head and continued pacing, I noticed a light in the far distance. I ran towards the light, towards what must be the fort. If this was 1754, then I really did need to warn the soldiers of the French coming to claim the outpost. I remembered it was a trading post before the Virginians built it up as a fort. I did not know how much of the fort would have been built when the French took it, but I knew something should be at that location. Governor Dinwiddie requested the fort, but I couldn't remember who was supposed to build it or the exact dates, only that the French would come and take it by force tomorrow. If I could save the lives of the colonists, then I had to try.
The walls of the fort were still being constructed, and I followed my way around to find the entrance. The lack of guards and gate surprised me, but figured they probably had no expectations that a large French force was making their way to their location. Fools. A soldier was leaning against the entrance and did not move as I approached. As I got closer, I could see that he had fallen asleep while on guard. I shook my head. If this is what I'm working with, how did the British win?
“Pardon me,” I said as I cleared my throat. No movement from the sentry. “Hello.” I said louder.
The man startled and pointed his rifle at me. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” His voice cracked. Although it was too dark to get a proper look at him, he sounded young. I could tell he was younger than my eighteen-year-old daughter, Hannah.
“My name is Amelia Murray. I escaped from a French detachment. I need to speak to whomever is in charge here.” The young man hesitated. He stood there and continued to look at me without any movement. “Now,” I commanded, folding my arms across my chest.
He cracked out, “Stay here.” Turned heel and went inside.
The young soldier returned and asked me to follow him inside the area that would eventually become the fort. We approached the man that I assumed was in charge. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties. “Ensign Edward Ward, at your service,” he said, with a slight look of surprise. After a brief pause, I assume he was sizing me up. He continued, “We’ll go inside, warm you up, and talk. Please, follow me.”
“Amelia Murray. Thank you, Ensign.” Our introduction was brief and to the point. It was appreciated.
Ward led me to a small outpost building that was used as a headquarters. The log cabin couldn’t have been more than fifteen-foot squared. I was thankful for the small fire warming up the room. It had been a chilly night and the breeze coming off the river had only made the cold sink deep into my bones. He held out a chair. I hesitated. The last time a soldier held a chair–I suppose it was a stump–for me, was Jumonville, and he had slammed me into my dinner, knocking the air out of me, and threatened to kill me. If I didn’t have trust issues before, I had trust issues then. I found it difficult to trust anyone, even my own eyes. It felt as though my loved ones abandoned me, and the people I thought would rescue me tortured me. I could only hope that I would not add Ward to my growing list reasons to fear the world around me.
“I will stand for now, if you don't mind.” Ensign Ward looked at me, tilted his head with confusion, and walked around to the other side of the table and sat down. The fire lit up the plain room and as he sat across from me, I could get a better look at him. He had not fully dressed from being woken up with the top of his shirt missing a cravat and his waist coat haphazardly worn. His disheveled brown hair fell below just below his shoulders. I sat there looked at him and tried to size him up. I needed to know if I could trust him.
“Private MacDonald says you have information for me.” He held out his hand in a gesture for me to continue the conversation. “Please.” I was not sure if he was going to believe me or not, but I had to place my safety in the hands of this man. I had no choice.
“Around a week ago, Ensign Joseph Coulon de Villiers, Sieur de Jumonville, kidnapped me, while I was in West Virginia, in, um, western Virginia. They have held me captive and have beaten me daily.” I touched my face and the lip that struggled to heal. The tender lip reminded me that I must look like Frankenstein’s monster. Oh, that’s why he looked at me strange. I must look horrible. “They brought me with the detachment of thirty-five soldiers, which has now grouped with many more French soldiers. It could be five hundred, six hundred, or more. I’m not sure. You are all I have for safety. Believe me when I tell you they are going to attack this fort tomorrow.”
“Lieutenant Colonel Washington and more of his troops are to arrive here to help us defend the fort while we finish building it.”
Washington headed towards the fort was news to me. “I understand that may be true,” I said, knowing no one would not get there before the morning. I moved to sit down in the chair, completely exhausted from the recent events. There was something about this man that allowed me to put my guard down. I collapsed in the chair. He watched me with concern, not with the vitriol that I had seen with my French captors. “However, Lieutenant Colonel Washington, nor any of his troops, are going to get here by tomorrow. The French forces will be here, and neither you, nor I, can stop them. You and your men are outnumbered and outgunned. If you want to live to fight another day, you need to give up the fort.”
“This fort cannot fall into the hands of the French. We must defend it.” Ward slammed his fist on the desk. He sounded confused at the turn of events. I should know, I was the queen of being confused, especially after the past week. “Captain Spencer was supposed to arrive and take command while Captain Trent and Lieutenant Fraser were away. We were to wait until Lieutenant Colonel Washington arrived.”
“This fort will fall into the hands of the French tomorrow. If you don’t believe me, send a scout south of here along the river to confirm that there were at least five hundred soldiers camped and getting ready for an attack. You cannot defend this fort against that many men. You need to leave here by tomorrow. Please, you must believe me.” I stretched my hands out in front of me in a plea of asking for him to trust me.
He sat back, closed his eyes, and contemplated his choices. He opened his eyes, leaned forward and stared into my eyes as if he was searching for the answer and truth in them. It should have made me uncomfortable, but there was comfort in knowing that he looked to me for the answer. He was nothing like Jumonville, and I knew deep down that it was the correct choice that I had escaped to the fort.
Ward slammed both of his palms on the table. “When do they plan on attacking?”
“I don't know.” My voice squeaked. The bangs on the table made me uncomfortable. “They would not have told me.” I gulped down hard.
He stood up with a jerk, ready to pounce. “Why should I trust you? For all I know, you could be a French spy, sent here to infiltrate.”
“I am not a spy.” I clenched my fists. “You have no reason to trust me,” I said through gritted teeth. I could feel the tears pricking in my eyes. “Send a scout and keep me within your sight. You will see that I am not lying. I need you to believe me.” I kept telling him that he needed to believe me, in hopes that he would get it through his thick skull.
“I will send a scout and you will stay in here,” Ward said. He pointed a sharp finger in my direction. “Stay here.” He said over his shoulder as he shot out of his chair. The walls shook as he slammed the door shut.
I looked around the sparse room. There was a table, two chairs, and a small rope bed. In front of the fireplace, to my right, was a large, cushioned chair. I assumed they had left the chair when it was a trading post. I couldn’t imagine anyone dragging it the chair out here for luxury to build a military fort. But what did I know? The cot looked inviting and had to be more comfortable than anything that I been sleeping on since I arrived in the year 1754.
It still did not seem probable to me. I had trouble wrapping my head around the possibility that was real and was not a dream. Perhaps I was hallucinating all of it or was dreaming while in a coma. That was the only logical explanation. My thoughts of the wild possibility of being thrust back in time were interrupted by the bang of the door being flung open. I shot straight up, ready to run.
“The men are preparing the camp for our departure. I have sent a scout to confirm what you have claimed about the French. I pray you are wrong.”
“I'm not.” I shook my head and plopped back down. A sigh of relief washed over me. We were finally getting somewhere instead of idly sitting by.
“You'll stay in here while we prepare.” Ward ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to comb it and tied it back. He straightened up his clothes and ran outside to help the camp get ready.
I sat up to survey the room and wondered if I should lie down or if I should help pack up his room. There was not much to pack up. A couple of books and a stack of papers on his desk. I wandered over to the desk to snoop at the contents. The papers were maps and building plans, nothing of use to me. Since my last meal was in the morning, and without the opportunity to have dinner after my interrogation, I searched for food. I was used to the lack of food by then, but I had hoped for a tiny bite. I did not have to look around much, there really was no place to hide any food. I crawled on the bed and ignored the protests from an empty stomach and fell asleep.