22 APRIL 1851
VIDALIA, LOUISIANA
Patton had been riding since leaving Charles Stewart in New Orleans, some five hours ago. He had stolen the horse from his Canadian hosts—and he had apparently stolen Stewart’s life from Colonel Walker. The colonel had sent a man to kill Stewart., thinking Patton’s friend could no longer be trusted. Patton hadn’t actually lifted a finger against Wilson, but his interruption had distracted the man for long enough to allow Stewart to kill him and escape.
He had been trying not to think of Stewart’s parting speech as he had ridden through the warm spring night, but it hadn’t been easy. I can’t help but wonder exactly which people in Texas invited the Colonel to invade them, Stewart had said. Why don’t you ask the people of Texas how they feel, once you get there? I wonder what sort of answer you’ll get?
Once, and only about a month ago, Stewart had been as eager as Patton to join Colonel Walker in liberating Texas. But Stewart had said, before shaking Patton’s hand good-bye, that he’d lost his taste for it—for Texas, for Colonel Walker, maybe even for war itself. He had been wrong, of course—was still wrong, wherever he was. Probably heading back north, to where General Jefferson Davis was readying for a Federal invasion.
Well, Stewart was already a hero; he could afford to turn himself into nothing more than a courier if he wanted to. I am going to prove myself, Patton thought, and Texas is where I’ll do it.
He reached into a pocket of his coat and brought out a crumpled map, something torn from a larger piece of cartography. Unfolding he saw the Canadian provinces of Louisiana and Missouri—though only the southern portion of the latter—and most of the Republic of Texas. A few notes and circles near a Louisiana town called Natchitoches on the Red River told Patton where the expedition’s forces had gathered. He figured he was a good ten days’ ride from Natchitoches, but that was well within Walker’s schedule as Patton understood it. The army of liberation wasn’t supposed to be ready to leave until nearly two weeks from now.
It felt strange to be wearing a uniform that wasn’t Confederate issue. Not that it was much of a uniform; Colonel Walker had insisted his officers provide themselves with something in a military style, but made of homespun cotton. The trousers were the pale blue worn by both the Federals and CSA, but the jacket was dyed a sort of yellow-brown, an utterly undistinguished color nobody could be proud of. The collar was soft and open at the neck, like any field-hand’s work shirt’s collar might be, and there were no cuffs to speak of. Never thought I’d miss that white coat as much as I do.
“You going to sit here gawking till daylight, boy?”
Patton nearly fell off his horse; his panicked reaction caused the hack to start, then frisk about, unhappy at his loss of control. “God damn it,” he whispered. Hauling the horse around he looked at a grim, hatchet-faced man who glared at him from under a floppy, broad-brimmed hat. “Who are you to sneak up on a man like that?”
“I’m your superior officer, boy, and if you ain’t figured that out yet it’s time to start.”
“You’re the captain?” Patton asked.
The man nodded his head curtly. “Allison Nelson. You Patton?”
“I am.”
“Then where’s Wilson? He supposed to be with you.”
“Haven’t seen him since he sent me away from Beacon’s,” Patton said. Which was very nearly true. “I was hoping he’d be coming with you.”
“Nobody told you what you were supposed to do?” Nelson dropped a hand to his hip, dangerously close to the handle of a big revolver.
“Just that I was supposed to meet you at a place called Vidalia. Which I’m guessing is that.” He nodded downslope at the town beginning to emerge from the darkness.
“Damn,” Nelson said softly. “I warned him what would happen if he kept everything so close to his vest.” Him, Patton figured, was Colonel Walker. Who, yes, had been unnecessarily close with important information. “Well, Wilson knows where he has to be, and when. We’d best be on our way there ourselves.”
He smiled in a very unfriendly way. “I hope you’re used to long riding, boy.”
Next Chapter One
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