SURRENDER
Sir, I offer you my sword as a measure of my surrender,” the commander of the American forces kneeled before Jacob, offering him a bloodstained sword. Jacob tried not to think about how it was stained with the blood of his comrades.
The balcony coming down had taken so many American lives that the commander’s troops now looked like a small skirmish rather than a full blown attack. Enola stood beside her father as Jacob accepted the sword, and then handed it to the chief, bowing his head. This was a surrender for all of them.
“You'll be escorted to the prisons,” Jacob said. “And from there your fate will be decided by my commander.”
“Sir,” the American commander said, accepting his fate. There was no other choice in that moment. It was that or death, and having survived such an attack, everyone was feeling like they had a fresh lease on life. Even if, for the Americans, it meant a prison world.
“Take them away,” Jacob nodded as the privates began to clap them in irons. He looked to Harold, who nodded. Jacob was the commander on land currently, but Harold outranked him. Even Holde outranked him, Enola thought, and yet somehow, he had everyone's attention. He had a bright future, she thought, if his betrayal could be overlooked.
Somehow, as the prisoners were led away and all eyes turned to Jacob, she had a feeling that it wouldn't.
“You did quiet a heroic thing,” Harold said, approaching Jacob and lowering his voice. “But the truth is, this has to be reported to the military court. And although you came back to save us, many men died today because of what you did.”
Jacob held his chin high, but Enola could see the emotion in his eyes. “I know, sir,” he said. “I am prepared to hand in my rank.”
“Perhaps not,” Aaron said. “We've had quite a few experiences with military court.”
A look was exchanged between the men, and Enola had a feeling that they had entered something much deeper than they had walked in before. Their thoughts were broken by the fact that the medical team was coming in to help with the survivors.
“Wesley,” Enola suddenly remembered. “I should help, where is he?”
“I haven't seen them,” Harold said as he turned to Aaron.
“I have,” Aaron said, his face pale. “It doesn't look good. They are still where we left them. Lola hasn't left his side.”
“We need to get him into a proper surgery,” Enola said. “There are herbs, there are medications, but if his brain is swelling, we need to relieve it.”
“This way,” Aaron said, leading her through the crowds.
It was as Enola had feared. Wesley hadn't woken, and there were so many that needed her help. She was already exhausted, but her energy was renewed as she moved about the casualties, doing what she cold. It was the part of the battle no one talked about when they celebrated their victories.
By the time she stopped moving, it was past dark. Those who could be saved were laying on cots, with doctors and nurses hovering over them. Harold had been reunited with Annabelle, and Patrick was at her side, trying to get her to eat. Lola hovered over her husband still, as if her very presence was going to bring him back to consciousness. Jacob and Mary seemed attached at the hand. The campfire was populated by British and Natives, laughing and talking; drinking and eating. Enola felt like she was exactly where she belonged as she tried to return to the campfire. Her father, however, put a hand out to stop her.
“Daughter,” he said. She went to greet him in Michif, but he stopped her, speaking in his halting English. “You are happy here.”
“Yes,” she said. That was an easy thought to speak. She was happy, but she wished she could be in both places. “But Father, I...”
She had left on such harsh terms, and she felt like a different person.
“And you will be safe?” he asked.
“I think so,” Enola replied. “I am strong though.”
“Yes, Daughter, you are strong,” he said. “And one day, when I have been reclaimed by Nature, you will be the one they rally to. It is unusual, yes, but it is truth. And your British husband will have to choose...”
“He won't choose,” Enola said. “There is no choice. I believe that he will come with me. We will be married until death do us part.”
They hadn't intended it to be this way, but she knew she was speaking both their feelings.
“Then so be it,” he said.
She wanted to hug him, but it just wasn't done. Instead, she dipped her head, and her father did the same. “Shall you join us?” she pointed to the fire, where her friends were gathering. “It would be nice.”
“No,” he said. “Although I’m sure it would be. This is your place, Enola, but it is not mine. As soon as the men are well rested, then we will be off.”
“You helped us win,” Enola cried. “And you are just leaving?”
“Yes,” he said. “You are family, and we are all one now. We will always come. But I hope that we will all be able to distance ourselves from this war.”
“I hope so too,” Enola replied. “I hope this is the beginning of the end.”
It was a few moments before she rejoined the rest, sitting around the campfire.
“Do you have news from the hospital?” Aaron asked. Enola tried to smile.
“Everything is as well as can be.”
“But he's not awake?” Aaron asked. His sister put a hand on his shoulder.
“He will awaken,” she said. “And we will return to Britain, as if we never left.”
“Did anyone tell him what we proposed?” Harold asked.
“Lola did,” Aaron said. “But obviously, they didn't make a choice before…everything happened.”
“Is that what you will do?” Jacob questioned. “Return to Britain for a...quieter life?”
“I think so,” Harold said. Enola exchanged a look with Jacob before speaking up for him.
“Could you help him?” she asked. “He'll lose everything if he goes to military court.”
“I couldn't do that,” Mary said. “I couldn't...he was just trying to save me. My father will disown me if he finds out and we marry.”
Aaron and Harold exchanged a look. “You work in the office,” Aaron said. “You could manage it.”
Harold sighed. “Yes,” he agreed finally. “I could manage it. The courts will hear of it, but I can testify on your behalf to the panel. Since I was here, it is likely you will walk away. My testimony will clear you.”
“You'd be willing to do that?” Jacob asked. “For me?”
“I---” Harold said. “So long as you repay it, one day. Forward, to someone whose life depends on it. You understand?”
“I do,” Jacob responded. “Thank you.”
He squeezed Mary's hand, and Enola turned to Patrick. “What about us?” she asked, a question she had been thinking about.
“What about us?” he asked, trying to pick up her train of thought. “Do you mean where will we live?”
“You are British, yes?” she said. “So I thought...”
“No, my love,” he said. “There is nothing left for me back there,” he said, and looked at the fire for a long moment.
“So, we stay here?” she asked, cautiously.
“Of course we do,” he replied. “You are a princess, are you not? If the situation was reversed, I would expect you to come to my kingdom.”
“My father was just asking,” she smiled. “He has given us his blessing.”
“I knew he would come around,” Patrick teased. “It's my charming smile.”
“I don't think that's what it was,” Enola smiled. “But we can pretend, if you like.”
“Lola,” Aaron suddenly turned around, as if sensing his best friend. She had come into the camp silently, and Enola feared the worst. Lola was never silent. “Is he---”
“He's awake,” Lola said and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “He's...not quite the same though.”
“He won't be,” Enola said. “For quite some time. He's been through trauma. However, a good recovery in the hospital, and a convalescence of a few months...and I am quite sure that he will pull through.”
“I hope so,” Lola sank onto the log beside Aaron. “Looks like we'll be staying here for a while, at least.”
“Until he's recovered,” Aaron said. “The ship won't sail without him.”
“That's kind of you,” Lola answered. “And I'm sure I'll get a more concise answer out of him in the next few days...but perhaps it should wait?”
“What?” the pirate lord turned to her.
“Not forever,” she said. “We were just talking about taking some time off, both of us. Relaxing somewhere on a beach.”
“Can't do that six months out of the year here,” Holde quipped and she chuckled.
“We'd probably go abroad to Spain, maybe.”
“Enola speaks Spanish,” Jacob said. “Maybe she can translate for you.”
“Didn't we just say we're staying here?” Enola asked, but Holde smiled.
“Maybe a holiday would be nice. I'm due for some time off.”
“I'm sure we all have great adventures ahead of us,” Lola said. “But I'm also sure that none of us will forget this place.”
“Or those who have left their lives here,” Jacob said, and they fell silent.
There was no question when they got up to head for their tents as to where Enola was going. Her hand was locked in Patrick's, and she was sure she'd take her own tent down after today. They were one now, and she never intended to be apart from him.
“What other languages do you speak?” he asked.
“Why?” she replied, as they ducked inside.
“I was just thinking about other places we could go on holiday,” he answered with a cheeky grin. She gave him a light swat as she sat down at his makeshift desk.
“French. Michif, Irish Gaelic.”
“We could visit the lot in Ireland, then,” he said. “I'd like to see them again.”
“I would too,” she replied. “Such unlikely friends we make in the war.”
“Aye,” he said, and reached for her hand.
“And when the war is over?” she asked him, getting up. “What do you want to do?”
“I couldn't think of a life after the war,” he said. “Without it, I would be a beggar in the gutter, probably. Someone like me could never get a job. War may seem horrible, Enola, but it has provided me a few great things. An occupation, a purpose...and you. I would fight a million wars for you.”
“Mm,” she murmured as she leaned in to kiss him. “I hope though, that this will be the war to end all wars.”
“Mankind will always find something to fight about,” he answered. “But it's a beautiful dream. Don't ever give up on it.”
“Can we dream together?” she purred, and he kissed her again.
“We can,” he said. “Every night until our final breaths.”
She lay down beside him, closing her eyes as he stroked her hair. There would be no more nightmares; no more fitful sleeps now.