Glory (42 page)

“Ridden out where?”

“There was some skirmishing. He went for the wounded. I’ll get you some coffee and something to eat. I’m afraid that our food isn’t very good, but we’ve a few fresh eggs left—I did that foraging myself—and I’m a very good cook.”

“I’m sure you are ... what’s your name?”

“Josiah, ma’am. Josiah. Let me get your coffee.”

He walked away from her to one of the cooking fires and returned with coffee for her. As she sipped it, he watched her anxiously. “Is it all right?”

“Delicious.”

He shrugged. “We just traded for it. There’s some Yanks downriver. Corporal Reilly sent them some of his pa’s best tobacco. I was hoping we’d made a good deal.”

“It’s wonderful coffee.”

“I’ll cook you some eggs.”

“You needn’t—”

“Dr. McKenzie says that you’re going to have a baby, ma’am. We need to take care of the little ones. After all, your baby will be the future of our people, right?”

She hesitated, then smiled. “Yes, of course.”

He walked off, and a while later, he returned with eggs and fresh bread—how he managed the bread, she didn’t know. He sat with her while she ate, and she found out that his mother had died before the war and he thought his father was dead, because he’d been missing a long time. She asked him to take her to the wounded when she was done, and her heart went out to the row after row of wounded soldiers on camp beds, left here because they weren’t in condition to go home, and yet there was no room for them as yet in the regular hospitals.

She brought water to the men, read, changed bandages. The day began to pass, same as any other. She was startled, however, when she came across Liam Murphy, one of the young men who had been with Julian when he had used her house as a refuge.

“Liam!”

“Mrs. Tremaine—McKenzie!” He smiled. “That’s right, you married Colonel McKenzie. It’s a wonderful story, you know. It’s gone around.”

“I’m sure it has,” she murmured. “How are you, where are you wounded?”

He moved the sheet. She saw the empty place that had been his lower leg.

“Oh, Liam, I’m so sorry!”

“I’m alive.”

“Thank God!”

“And I’m going home.”

“That’s even better.”

“To fight again.”

“No!”

“Yes. Why, the Yanks are having a renewed interest in Florida. They’ve had all kinds of meetings and the like over it. Seems Florida is feeding most of the Confederacy. The Yanks think we’re weak, that they can attack us. But the Reb commanders aren’t fools. They’re going to stop the Yanks,” he said proudly. He lowered his voice. “Saw Julian this morning, Mrs. McKenzie. Sure was good to see him. He’s anxious, too. He wants to go home. Says you’re going to have a little one, and that he wants his child born in Florida. He’s put in a request to be assigned back home, since they know now there will be more action there!”

“Well, we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

“Would you like that? Would you like to go home?”

She looked into his eyes for a long moment, then smiled. “Yes, I’d like to go home.”

He touched her hand. “I called you a witch, you know. I’m mighty sorry.”

“It’s all right. I hope we all get to go home.”

Liam suddenly groaned. “Watch out! He’s coming.”

“Who’s coming?”

“The preacher man. Colonel Sheer.”

She saw a tall, lean man with iron gray hair and a gray beard enter the hospital tent. She watched him with interest for a minute then realized that he had stopped to ask one of the orderlies a question—about her. He looked up, then came toward her. She instantly felt uneasy. His eyes were dark, small, piercing. The eyes of a zealot, she thought.

Followed by two aides, he walked through the rows of hospital beds until he reached her. “Mrs. McKenzie!” he stated.

She nodded, not replying to him.

“You will come with me.”

“Where?” she inquired.

“To my command quarters.”

“Why?”

“I have questions for you.”

She shook her head. “But—”

“You were in the Yankee camp just yesterday, young woman!”

“Sir, I know nothing of Yankee military plans. I worked in the field hospital there.”

“You will come with me.”

“I’m not a prisoner here, sir.”

“You will come with me, ma’am, or I will have you carried out of here!”

Furious, she started walking ahead of him.

She was startled when Josiah suddenly came before her, making a ruckus by dropping a bucket of water. When she bent to help him, he spoke to her quickly. “Don’t worry, we’ll get Dr. McKenzie!”

She nodded, but she wondered with a sinking heart just what was going on, and just what Julian could do. This man was a colonel—which Julian had been with the militia. But he was in the regular army now, and his rank wasn’t as high as this man’s.

Sheer was quickly at her side, taking her elbow. She jerked free from him, but he remained at her side, directing her. They came to a large tent, and he ushered her in. There was a chair beside a camp desk, and he indicated that she should sit. She did so.

“You may cease with the hostility, madam.”

“What do you want? I’m not in the military.”

“But your reputation precedes you.”

“Reputation? Whatever you might have heard, I’m not a witch.”

“I want to know the Yankee movements. What is Meade doing now? Where will he attack next?”

“I don’t know!”

“I demand—”

“It seems that Meade is just sitting there, as he has been doing!”

She was stunned when the man slapped her across the face. Gasping, she leapt to her feet. He stood as well and pressed her back into the chair.

“How dare you!” she gasped.

“You will give me answers.”

“I don’t have answers, and I’m not your prisoner.”

“You came with your husband, but you are a Yank, and for the safety of the South, I am now making you a prisoner.”

“You cannot.”

“I can, and I will. You will stay here until you answer my questions. You see the future. You know what is happening. Now, Mrs. McKenzie, you are my prisoner—a traitor to the South, to your own homeland.”

He was a fanatic—a lunatic. “Sir, you don’t understand,” Rhiannon said, fighting for patience. “I do not read the future at will! I have dreams upon occasion, flashes of insight. I cannot foretell the future like a gypsy with a crystal ball. I—”

He was suddenly in front of her, hands on her shoulders. “Not a gypsy, a witch. You knew to tell Magee where to lead his troops. You caused the Yanks to win ground at Gettysburg.”

“I knew nothing at Gettysburg, except fear and horror like everyone else!” she protested.

“I repeat this—you’re a traitor to your birthright! You’re a Floridian, fighting for the Yankees. And you’ve given them an unfair advantage. You should be shot like any traitor; no, burned at the stake like any witch.”

This man could not possibly be serious. Bad things might happen at the hands of the enemy, yes. On both sides, women alone had been molested by enemy soldiers. Robbed, raped, perhaps left for dead. Spies had been arrested. They’d faced imprisonment. But no one had been burned at the stake. And this man was a colonel—directing troops on the field!

“Sir, I keep telling you that I couldn’t help you now if I wanted to.”

“You deny special powers.”

She shook off his touch and stood suddenly, swiftly moving far enough away from him so that he could not easily touch her. “Yes, I deny special powers! I am cursed, plagued, sometimes with dreams! They are nightmares, and I do not seek them.”

“Sit down!” He stepped forward, determined. She had nowhere to go. He set his hands on her shoulders, pressing her back into the chair.

Where was Julian? she wondered desperately. If he was still out in the field, he didn’t know that Sheer had come to take her. And when he found out what had happened? What was he going to do? Sheer outranked him! Julian had no power over a colonel who was going over the edge of sanity.

“Let me tell you about Gettysburg, Mrs. McKenzie.”

“You don’t need to tell me anything. I was there!” she said furiously.

He didn’t seem to hear her. “I had five sons when this war began. Proud, strapping boys. They went to war for their country, Mrs. McKenzie, this country. The Confederate States of America. Not one of them shirked his duty. I lost a boy at Sharpsburg, and then, Mrs. McKenzie, I lost four sons at Gettysburg. Four boys ...”

“I’m sorry, sir. I cannot tell you how sorry I am. For everyone the losses have been unacceptable.”

“The North should suffer! The Northern politicians started this war of pure aggression. We asked to be left alone to live our lives and nothing more. But my sons are not going to have died for nothing, Mrs. McKenzie. We will change the tide of this war again!”

She fought to remain calm and in control. “Perhaps you will.”

“You will help us.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, Mrs. McKenzie. You don’t understand. I will beat you if I have to. I will burn you, torture you, I—”

He broke off, staring into space. Then he stood. “Will you answer my questions?”

“I have no answers to give you.”

He violently dragged her out of the chair. His hand went flying across her face again. “If you don’t answer me, I will have you shot.”

She tried to fight back, dodging his blows, returning them. His palm cracked against her face with such force that she came careening down to her knees in the center of the tent. He raised his fist to strike her again.

But his hand was stayed. He was swung around and cracked in the jaw. Dazed, tears stinging her eyes, she looked up to see that Julian had returned.

Sheer took a swing at Julian. He was a powerful man, and it was a hard blow. Julian staggered back. But then he came forward, jabbing quickly and with strength, catching Sheer on the right jaw, the left, the right. Sheer went to his knees.

“You’ll be shot as well! Insubordination. Shot at dusk, shot with the bitch of Satan who helps the Yankees find our position even now.”

Julian was staring down at the man incredulously. As he did so, Sheer went for the gun in the holster at his waist. Julian hit him again. Hard. Sheer went flat.

“Oh, my God!” she cried. “Julian, Julian ...”

His arms were around her, blue eyes dark with concern. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head. “But he’ll hurt you, Julian, he’s a colonel.”

“I’ll manage. Let me get you out of here. The baby—?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” she whispered.

But he swept her up and carried her from the tent. Outside, the soldiers who had gathered at the sound of the disturbance parted ways, and he walked with her back to their own tent. He had barely laid her down before officers arrived for him. To take him under arrest.

“It will be all right,” he told her.

But she was afraid.

“Julian—”

“It will be all right.”

And he was gone.

Several hours later, she heard a man clearing his throat. “Mrs. McKenzie!” She hurried out of the tent. Two soldiers had come for her. “General Longstreet will see you now.”

“General Longstreet ... ?”

“If you will come with us. Please?”

She followed behind them. It was a long walk, but eventually they came to a small house. The soldiers opened the door, and she realized that they had come to the command quarters for Longstreet’s division of the Army of Northern Virginia.

She followed behind the soldiers, looking anxiously for Julian. He wasn’t to be seen. She was led into a dining room converted to an office. There were maps everywhere.

The tall, bearded man who had been sitting there rose. He did so slowly, as if it were an effort, as if he were very weary.

“General Longstreet, please, I know that you’re a very busy man, and I know that I have made little secret of the fact that I am a Unionist, but ... please, where is Julian? Don’t let him suffer for this. You are supposed to be the last of the cavaliers, sir, and that man was beating me. He said that I should be shot. You’ve got to understand that Julian was only acting as a Southern gentleman, a cavalier of that lifestyle you are fighting to maintain, when he came to my defense—”

“Mrs. McKenzie, Mrs. McKenzie ...” he murmured, taking her hands. He had a gentle touch and a kind smile for a man who had seen so much battle and loss. “Your husband is just fine.”

“He’s under arrest.”

“He’s receiving new orders, Mrs. McKenzie.”

“What?”

“May I get you a brandy or the like?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, please, just—”

“I called you here to offer you my most heartfelt apologies. Colonel Sheer was once a good military man, a pious fellow.” Longstreet spoke with a soft, slurring Southern accent that made his words seem all the more consoling. “Mrs. McKenzie, every man and woman has the right in a war to choose his or her side, and you are most honest in your belief in the Union. God knows, I spend many a day in sorrow regarding this great division! Colonel Sheer had no right to touch you, and your husband had every right to defend you. However, there are other fanatics among our numbers, so we’re seeing to it that you and your husband are sent home as swiftly as possible.”

“What?” she whispered. “Julian isn’t under arrest?”

He smiled, and hiked his chin, indicating that she should look behind herself. She spun around. Julian stood there, papers in hand.

“Everything complete, Dr. McKenzie?”

“Yes, sir.” Julian walked across the room. Longstreet stretched out a hand to him. “Good luck, Dr. McKenzie.”

“And to you, sir. God keep you. It has been an honor to serve under you, sir.”

“Well, now, you’re still Confederate military, Julian. Just militia once again.” He saluted. “Colonel McKenzie!”

Julian saluted in return. “General Longstreet, sir!”

“Take your wife. Go home,” Longstreet told him.

“Aye, sir!”

They turned, and Julian led her from the house. A carriage awaited them, ready to take them down to the railroad.

She realized that they were, in truth, going home.

R
EACHING FLORIDA WAS NOT
easy.