George Washington Werewolf Read Online Free Page A

himself!”
    Not as tall as General Washington, but still there was something utterly commanding in Von Steuben’s bearing. He carried himself like a cross between an aristocrat and a killer, which was a dangerous combination. And as he walked through camp the men stood aside in a kind of awe or reverence, as if he were the King of Prussia himself.
    “Those Redcoats have had it now! ” exclaimed Solomon Bundy.
    “We’ll see…”
    “Hey, you know what today is, right?”
    “What, George Washington’s birthday?”
    “No, it’s mail day! ”
    “That’s right!” Mal broke into a smile.
    “So maybe you’ll get another letter from… what’s her name? Abigail? Alma?”
    “It’s Lenore, but you were close.”
    “So I’m gonna go and see what I got, all right? I’ll see ya later Mal…”
    “See ya Sol.”
    “Keep warm!”
    “You too.”
    And Private Malcolm Turner looked back at The Baron and then at the men carrying the huge iron cage. What could that be for, he wondered. What could that possibly be for?

 
23 February 1778
4 pm
     
    The mail had arrived, and Mal Turner had received a letter from Boston from one Lenore Weston, but for some reason he had a sinking feeling as he opened the wax seal. He sat on his makeshift bunk in the log hut he had helped build back in December—when he and Lenore had talked about getting married. But since then he had received only two letters, and not once did she mention their forthcoming marriage. He took a deep breath as he looked at her words written in a steady, determined hand.
     
    27 January 1778
    Dear Malcolm,
    I am sorry to have not written much lately, but I wanted to make sure of something before I finally told you. I regret with all my heart that I have met someone else. He is a merchant in Boston who owns his own ship, but mainly he is here and is staying here and you have been away for so long. I don’t know when this war will ever end and I don’t want to postpone my life any longer, as I want to have children. Please forgive me, as I do care for you, and I hope that the war is soon over so you may one day be as happy as I am now.
    Yours in friendship,
    Lenore
     
    “Bad news?” Berkeley, one of the enlisted men asked as he passed by.
    Malcolm Turner tried to speak but he had lost his voice. He started to crinkle up the letter in his hands but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he placed it gently on the bed and then turned away, a single tear forming in the corner of his eye.

 
23 February 1778
9 pm
The Potts House
The Village of Valley Forge
     
    Isaac Potts built this house out of stone thirty years before, when all was right with the world, when the Colonists were happily British, and this Revolution was not even a glimmer in the most radical mind. But tonight it was the scene of a gala party in honor of Baron Friedrich Von Steuben, who had traveled from Prussia through the Black Forest to France, and then across the Atlantic to Philadelphia to Valley Forge to save General Washington and his ragtag army from defeat.
    “Baron…” George Washington said as he executed a deep stately bow.
    “General…”
    “My wife, Martha…”
    “Mrs. Washington…”
    And as Martha Washington looked at the face of this man who was to be their savior, she couldn’t help but notice the resemblance to her husband George. Though shorter he bore a not dissimilar countenance, and could be mistaken in a certain light as perhaps a brother or a cousin. And perhaps this is why the General and the Baron instantly took a liking to each other. Both were men of wealth and privilege who chose the soldier’s life. Both had seen their share of battles and of dying men. And now General Washington hoped that this would be the first step towards ending this war and securing American independence. He saw in the Baron’s face a kind of indomitable strength and will, but yet something more as he looked deeper, as his eye aided by the many glasses of wine glimpsed