The Patriot Page #16

Cornwallis reads the message.

CORNWALLIS:

It seems our Swamp Fox wants to have

a formal parley.

TARLETON:

Are you going to meet with him?

CORNWALLIS:

Most certainly. Arrange it.

EXT. CAROLINA ROAD - DAY

Marion rides, trailed by Cornwallis' Great Danes. Behind

him, two dozen heavily armed Patriots, including Rev.

Oliver who carries a white flag.

A detachment of Redcoat Cavalry, lead by Major Halbert,

waits. The Redcoats fall in on either side. They ride

on.

EXT. FORT CAROLINA - DAY

Redcoat sentries see the approaching Patriots and Redcoats

and open the gates. Billings and the other Patriots stop,

a hundred yards outside the barricades.

MARION alone rides through the gates, flanked by the

British cavalry, the Great Danes following closely behind.

INT. CORNWALLIS' HEADQUARTERS - DAY

Major Halbert ushers Marion in. The Great Danes follow

sniffing curiously, sensing something or someone.

MAJOR HALBERT:

Lord Cornwallis will be with you

presently.

MARION:

Thank you.

MAJOR HALBERT:

You may, of course, keep your

weapons, but I must warn you that...

MARION:

(interrupting)

I'm familiar with appropriate

behavior at a military parley.

MAJOR HALBERT:

Yes, quite, but you should know

that...

MARION:

That will be all, Major. I'll wait

for Lord Cornwallis.

MAJOR HALBERT:

(coldly)

Yes... you will wait.

Major Halbert turns and starts to stride out.

MARION:

One other thing.

Major Halbert stops.

MARION:

The proper form of address to a

superior officer, even one of an

opposing army, is "Yes, sir."

Major Halbert sneers and strides from the room. MARION

ALONE, EXCEPT FOR THE DOGS, allows himself a fleeting

smile. Then he looks around the room. He notes a rocking

chair. Curious, he hefts it. Too heavy. He puts it

down, sits and rocks. The dogs walk over and lay at his

feet.

INT. CORNWALLIS' HEADQUARTERS - DAY (LATER)

Marion patiently sits rocking. One of the dogs has its

head in his lap and Marion scratches it behind the ears.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. CORNWALLIS' HEADQUARTERS - DAY

A stone-faced Marion stands in the center of the room,

playing with the dogs. One of the dogs jumps up, putting

its front legs on Marion's shoulders, and licks his face.

Just then, Cornwallis walks in, overjoyed to see his dogs.

CORNWALLIS:

Jupiter! Mars!

The dogs just look at Cornwallis. He holds out his arms,

waiting for them to rush to him. They look up at Marion

who nods to them.

MARION:

Go.

The dogs run to Cornwallis and nuzzle him in a friendly

but not enthusiastic manner. Cornwallis pats them

vigorously, too vigorously for the moderate level of joy

the dogs are showing at their reunion.

CORNWALLIS:

My boys... my boys... you seem to

have been well fed. Thank you for

that, Colonel.

MARION:

My pleasure, sir.

CORNWALLIS:

Please forgive me for keeping you

waiting.

MARION:

Apology accepted.

CORNWALLIS:

Thank you, Colonel... I'm afraid I

don't know your name.

MARION:

Colonel will do.

CORNWALLIS:

As you wish.

TARLETON ENTERS with four Dragoons, all armed...

Marion freezes...

Marion and Tarleton lock eyes. Marion searches for some

sign that Tarleton recognizes him. There's none.

CORNWALLIS:

Colonel... Colonel Banastre

Tarleton.

Tarleton nods.

TARLETON:

Colonel.

Marion, like ice, looks Tarleton up and down. Then he

slowly turns and looks at the four Dragoons, two on either

side of Tarleton. Marion measures the odds and finds them

wanting.

With a supreme effort of will, Marion forces himself to

turn from Tarleton to Cornwallis and the matter at hand.

MARION:

Shall we proceed?

CORNWALLIS:

Let us. Unless you object, I would

like to deem this meeting a formal

negotiation and, as such, there are

certain customary practices.

Perhaps I could explain them to

you...

MARION:

I'm familiar with how a formal

negotiation is handled.

CORNWALLIS:

Oh?

MARION:

I served in His Majesty's army in

the French and Indian War.

CORNWALLIS:

Oh. Very well, then. Would you, as

the initiating party, like to begin?

MARION:

Unless you would like to claim

aggrieved status.

Cornwallis is surprised. He exchanges a look with

Tarleton.

CORNWALLIS:

You are familiar with how these

things are done. In fact, I would

like to claim aggrieved status.

MARION:

Very well, proceed, sir.

CORNWALLIS:

First, you have in your possession

certain belongings of mine,

including clothing, private papers,

furniture and personal effects of a

non-military nature which I would

like to have returned to me.

MARION:

I will do so as soon as possible.

Cornwallis is surprised.

CORNWALLIS:

Thank you.

MARION:

Please accept my apology for not

having done so sooner.

CORNWALLIS:

Apology accepted. Now, on the

matter of the specific targeting of

officers during engagements, this is

absolutely unacceptable.

MARION:

That one is a bit more difficult.

CORNWALLIS:

Certainly you must know that in

civilized warfare, officers in the

field must not be accorded

inappropriate levels of hostile

attention.

MARION:

And what are inappropriate levels of

hostile attention?

CORNWALLIS:

Colonel, imagine the utter chaos

that would result from un-led armies

having at each other. There must be

gentlemen in command to lead and,

when appropriate, restrain their

men.

MARION:

Restrain them from the targeting of

civilians, including women and

children?

CORNWALLIS:

That is a separate issue.

MARION:

I consider them linked.

CORNWALLIS:

I beg to differ. One is a command

decision on your part. The other

represents nothing more than the

occasional over-exuberance of field

officers attempting to carry out

their duty in difficult

circumstances.

MARION:

As long as your soldiers attack

civilians, I will order the shooting

of your officers at the outset of

every engagement.

(beat)

And my men are excellent marksmen.

Cornwallis sighs.

CORNWALLIS:

Very well, let us move on to...

MARION:

Prisoner exchange.

CORNWALLIS:

Sir?

MARION:

You have eighteen of my men. I want

them back.

CORNWALLIS:

I do have eighteen criminals under

sentence of death, but I hold no

prisoners-of-war.

MARION:

If that's your position, then

eighteen of your officers will die.

Nineteen, if you hang me with my

men.

CORNWALLIS:

What officers?

Marion steps to the window, checks the view. A wooded

hillside is visible in the distance. Marion reaches into

his jacket...

The Dragoons move on him...

Marion extracts not a weapon, but a spyglass, which he

hands to Cornwallis.

MARION:

In the clearing, just down from the

crest, to the left of the dark

pines...

Cornwallis looks through the spyglass.

VIEW THROUGH THE SPYGLASS

Though difficult to see clearly through the shimmering

haze, Cornwallis can just make out a row of bound Redcoat

officers, with Patriot soldiers holding muskets at their

heads.

CORNWALLIS turns coldly to Marion.

CORNWALLIS:

Their names, ranks and posts?

MARION:

They refused to give me their names.

Their ranks are nine lieutenants,

five captains, three majors and one

fat colonel who called me a cheeky

fellow. Their posts? We picked

them up here-and-there last night.

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