Long Knife by JAMES ALEXANDER Thom Read Free Book Online Page B

kitchen door. “Intrigues and strategems, in our own home! Or have I entered the Continental headquarters by mistake? Wash up and come to the table, all you generals.”
    For the occasion of George’s visit, Ann Rogers Clark had cooked an entire wild turkey, which Edmund had bagged the day before at the edge of the clearing. He had brought it home headless; the ball from his long rifle had neatly decapitated thegreat bird at a distance of some twenty yards. Edmund, cheeks flaming with shyness and pride, was coaxed to explain why he had aimed precisely at such a small part of such a large creature.
    “He’d caught sight of us,” Edmund said. “He was tryin’ to sneak off in th’ brush, and alls I could see was his dang ol’ head. So, I shot it off.”
    George clapped his hands together and gave a whoop of approval. “Now there’s a sharpshooter!” Little William mimicked his glee, clapping and crying, “Edmund is a sharpshooter!”
    Ann Rogers Clark, majestic and firm-jawed even though haggard from twenty-seven years of bearing and rearing her ten children, gazed at her son George for a moment, very thoughtfully, then tucked a damp strand of gray hair back under the edge of her dust cap. “You’re our guest of honor, George. Would you say the grace, please?”
    A hush fell around the table; heads bowed and eyes closed. George did not feel especially solemn and reverent. He was too exuberant with his sense of purpose, and felt playful here in the bosom of his family, and decided that he would extemporize rather than recite the usual invocation. He paused and looked around at the ruddy faces, the heads of red hair, all colors of red: some copper, some sand, and some so dark a red they looked almost black. He looked at the brown basted turkey and the steaming bowls on the table. He caught Frances Eleanor, who was almost five, sneaking a look at him with her luminous eyes, and she shut them quickly.
    “Our Father,” he began, “accept our humble thanks for the marksmanship Thou hast blessed Thy humble servant Edmund Clark with, and for putting this noble gobbler within its range.” He sensed someone at the table trying to suppress laughter. “Our gratitude for our health and for the tranquility and happiness of this house. Now, Lord, if Thou wouldst know how much we appreciate the bounty on this table, just watch us Clarks eat. Amen.”
    He looked up to see both his father and mother, their lips compressed, shaking their heads and looking at each other. The children were smirking but afraid to laugh aloud.
    “Lord forgive my son for his jocularity,” John Clark implored heavenward, then stood up, and with a keen-edged knife began laying open the turkey, and the clatter of a spirited feast began.
    “Where will you stay, George?” asked John Clark.
    “I’ll lay up at the Gwathmeys’ a day or two, but expect I’ll have to take lodgings at an inn.”
    “Will you have time to pay a visit to Gunton Hall while you’re here?” asked Mrs. Clark.
    “No, but I shall see Mr. Mason in Williamsburg. He’s helping the governor and Tom Jefferson advance my proposal in the Assembly.”
    “Ah! Tom, too?” exclaimed John Clark. “Well, you’ve certainly enlisted enough old friends and neighbors to your cause.”
    “I wish you’d enlist
me,”
interjected Richard.
    “Time will answer that, and I suggest you be patient,” Ann Rogers Clark said severely. “And as for you, George, don’t be coveting Edmund’s markmanship for your army. Grace of God this war will end before he’s of age!”
    “Amen,” said John Clark.

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W ILLIAMSBURG , V IRGINIA
December 1777
    A CARRIAGE DREW UP BEFORE AN INN IN W ILLIAMSBURG . S EVERAL soldiers were in its path, arguing, laughing, and exchanging money. They jostled each other out of the way as the driver urged the team alongside the building. A slight young courier in well-cut velvet clothing and polished pumps stepped down from the carriage, and picked his way among the