Ancient Blood by Diane Carey

Author:Diane Carey [Carey, Diane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780743455862
Publisher: Star Trek
Published: 1997-09-02T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“I NEVER IMAGINED THEY COULD take a Royal Navy frigate… never, never …”

Midshipman Edward Nightingale stared out onto the open water of Chesapeake Bay. Picard watched him, deeply sympathizing with the shocked young sailor.

Here they were, huddled in landed exile as their ship was attacked from all quarters. The cannonfire on Justina had ceased now. The captain was surrendering rather than lose the ship and crew in a futile battle.

“We have to get out of here,” Picard said sharply. “They’ve seen the warp line and they know there was a landing party. They’ll come ashore to find us.”

Nightingale turned to him. “But the ship—”

“The ship is captured,” Picard snapped, making sure to destroy any thoughts of heroic insanity. “Its crew will be prisoners of war. We must see to ourselves, or we’ll be the same.”

“Yes, sir … but where should we go?” Nightingale asked. “Where can Royal Navy men find safe haven in the colonies?”

“I know,” Grenadier Leonfeld said. “I have family here. In Delaware Station.”

Worry creased his brow. He was embarrassed to have relatives in the colonies.

“Who are they?” Picard asked.

“My cousin and his family, sir. He was born in England and came here a few years ago. He is a Tory, loyal to the Crown. By trade he’s a master weaver. I wrote to him and told him I was coming to the colonies.”

“What was his response?”

“I received no response before the ship set sail.” His voice grew soft as he added, “I hope he is still… alive.”

“Alive? Why wouldn’t he be?” Picard asked, then instantly regretted that. People died of the lowest, commonest germs in these times, of simple wounds and infections, of childhood diseases that no one in Picard’s time even knew about anymore.

“There was a fever, sir,” Leonfeld said. “He wrote to tell me his mother had died of it. That was the last time I heard from him.”

For the first time in a while, Alexander actually spoke up—and, indeed, Picard noticed this was the first time the boy had spoken to his ancestor. “Were you very close, Sergeant?” he asked.

Leonfeld sighed, but it was more of a shudder. His eyes tightened again. “We were more brothers than cousins. We lived in the same house for all our childhood summers. When I came of university age, I went to England and lived with him while attending Cambridge. He wanted me to go into business with him. In point of fact, he wanted me to come here with him. But I wanted a military future. Thus I became a grenadier, and he became an American.”

Anticipation blended with fear as Leonfeld gazed down the bay beyond the movement of those ships, and unconcealed emotion clutched his eyes. “If Jeremiah is still here, he will shield us for a while.”

Picard clarified. “You say he’s loyal?”

“Oh, yes,” Leonfeld said sharply. “A proud servant of the Crown. Jeremiah knows well his own blood.”

“Is his name Leonfeld also?”

The sergeant looked at him, as if somehow this cast more doubt on their situation, then he peered again through the trees.

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