Freedom Reigns

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Smoke filled the silversmith's shop as men pounded at red-hot metal on anvils. Sparks sprayed out from under the huge hammers, showering the smithy handling it with fiery droplets. I was used to environments like this, as was Sam, but I could tell that John was uncomfortable in the dirty shack.

I saw Sam talking to a man who looked to be in his late forties, motioning to John and I as he talked. The man nodded as remarks were made, and finally the two walked over to me.

"Paul, I'd like to introduce you to Miss Sheba Storm. Sheba, this is Paul Revere."

"Pleasure to meet you, miss," said Paul, kissing my hand. I tried to suppress a smile.

"To you as well, Mr Revere." He studied me for a second.

"Tell me, girl, why don't you wear a dress like most women?"

"I'm in disguise."

"And why is that?"

"I'm a fugitive for rebelling against the crown." Paul looked at Sam, who grinned.

"Leave it to you to find the one girl in Boston that's a fugitive for our cause," said Paul, clapping Sam on the shoulder. "Come with me, kid. You're just what we need."

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"What the bloody heck is this?!" I asked, holding up a corset and narrowing my eyes at Sam. "Is there something you would like to tell me, Samuel Adams?" Sam grinned evilly at me as we stood in the backroom of the workshop.

"It's for you, Sheba Storm. You do want to help us, right?" He was playing me. I pushed him out the door and stopped.

"I'm not helping because I like you. I'm helping you because I lost so much, no thanks to you."

"It wasn't my fault your family was burned!" My eyes narrowed into slits. I grabbed Sam by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the wall, my wounded arm burning under the strain.

"My family burned because of an irresponsible brat in the royal army that didn't have a lick of sense in him. They could still be alive if that dirtbag had been cut off from his liquor, and I am not blaming you for that. I have my reasons to fight. What are yours?" A single tear fell down my cheek and dripped onto his arm.

"I fight for freedom, as you do, Miss Storm." He lowered my hands. "I didn't mean to say that. I got so... annoyed. I'm always being blamed for something."

"Probably because you did the something."

"Yes, I always manage to get into that kind of trouble." He tossed a petticoat at me. "Get dressed. You have a role to play tonight."

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I growled as I trudged past the docks of Boston Harbor, the dress I wore irritating me greatly. The layers of petticoats and underwear were foreign to me, making me take thirty minutes to just get the first layer on. But the worst thing about it was that it was pink. I could hardly look at myself without shuddering.

Approaching the dock where Hancock's ship was just harboring, I saw a few soldiers in charge of checking the ships. Plastering a smile on my face, I walked behind one of them and collapsed as I touched him.

"Oh dear!" I cried, dramatizing the scene. "My ankle!"

"So sorry, miss!" Exclaimed the soldier with true sympathy. "I... I had no idea you were there!"

"Of coarse you didn't!" I yelled. "No one ever notices me! I'm just another woman, right? Why can't I be loved or noticed?! Why?!" I shook his shoulders. "My life is just so hard!" I peeked over his shoulder just long enough to see Sam and a few other men sneak aboard the ship as the soldiers watched me.

"What is your name, my lady?" Asked a soldier.

"How kind of you to ask, young sir! My name is Sarah Whim. To whom do I owe the pleasure of this courtesy?"

"William James, my lady." His grin proved to me that he was completely oblivious to the crates and barrels being snuck off the ship.

"And I am Udony Morris."

"I'm Timothy Wood."

"Lovely to meet you all!" I embraced the three men, nearly making myself throw up. "How shall I ever repay you charming... boys?"

"How about a kiss?" That actually did make me throw up in my mouth a little bit.

"Whatever my heros ask!" I said weakly. I reluctantly puckered my lips and awaited the horrifying moment.

"Sarah!" Cried a voice behind me. "What are you doing?" John helped me to my feet and put his hand around my waist. "What, might I ask, are you gentlemen doing with my sister?"

"Oh, n... nothing sir. Just helping the lovely lady back on her feet."

"As you should. Good day, sirs!" John tightened his grip. "You're welcome."

"I was about to say thanks, but okay." He guided me to a dark alley where a wagon full of goods awaited us. I climbed onto the seat next to John and snapped the reigns, the horse lurching at my command. We rode in silence towards the building where we stored Hancock's goods until we sold them.

"Thank you," I said, shattering the silence. "I mean it. I'm not just saying that because I have to."

"In that case, you're very welcome."

"I've learned a little bit more about where your loyalty lies, Mr Hancock."

"And where would you say?"

"Somewhere in the middle. You haven't set your foot on solid ground quite yet. But you will. I can tell."

"How so?"

"Trying times are drawing near. It's then that a man's true colors fly!"

"And what about you? What are your true colors, Miss Storm?"

I wanted to give him a wise answer; something that he could look back on to keep him going, but I couldn't find any words other than this: "My colors lie within the light."

"I don't quite understand." I didn't understand myself at the moment.

"Maybe not yet, but someday you will."

"How is it that you're only fifteen years old and out of the two of us seems to be stronger and harder?"

"I've lived a different life, Hancock. You were spoiled with the pleasures of a soft life, while I was outside every day at dawn taking care of my family because my father..." I couldn't bring myself to say it. To admit what had happened in my household without the outside world knowing about it. What happened in those walls...

"Sheba?" His voice shook me from my pain. "You don't have to do this." I took a breath of the fresh night air and nodded at him.

"Thank you."

"No. Thank you."