My Writing

13 September, 2019

Bonny Blue Flag 2.5

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[Concluding chapter two]

“That will take some of the sting out of your having to leave everything behind,” Patton said, gazing in wonder at the stack of bills Cleburne held in his fist. They had pulled over to the side of the road—the track, really—a mile or so beyond an abandoned church two or three hours northwest of Vidalia. “Now all you need is someplace to spend it. How much is there?” he asked.

“Nelson had two hundred dollars and a note from Walker saying receipts must be provided for any horses bought.” Cleburne laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Armies are the same everywhere, I guess. McConnell had another twenty-four in coin. I can imagine how he got it.”

Patton felt a tension leave him, a feeling he’d been trying to ignore. The fact that Walker had provided money to buy fresh horses—and two hundred dollars was more than was necessary for a single rider—had to mean that it was Walker’s intent that Patton join him. The fear Nelson had brought forth had been groundless. He’d never know what the Georgian had actually intended for him, but at least he could allay his fears about his commander.

“Don’t you think we should stop now?” he asked. “I don’t think I’ve slept more than a couple of hours in the last three nights, and not at all in maybe thirty hours now.”

“I’m in no better state than you,” the Irishman said. “And I don’t know I’ll be able to sleep, either, until I know that we’re past the immediate possibility of a pistol-ball in the back of the head. I’ve campaigned, Patton, more than you have. But this sneaking about is not a way of doing things I’m accustomed to.”

I rather like it, Patton was surprised to find himself thinking. He hadn’t felt this alert, this much alive, since he’d arrive at the military academy. This made him think of Stewart, and wonder what his friend had got up to since leaving. “You haven’t really explained how Stewart was able to talk you into following me,” he said.

Cleburne grinned ruefully. “He didn’t have to talk me into anything. I jumped like a fish at a fly. Just wanted some adventure, was all. I guess I shouldn’t be complaining, since I’ve now more adventure than any ten men would want to swallow.” He looked about for a moment. “Let’s leave the road here,” he said, and led them into the woods a few minutes. “This should do.” He dismounted.

“I saw my share of adventure when I was with the colors, I suppose,” he continued after they had tied and hobbled the horses. “But shooting at wogs in India wasn’t my idea of a rich, full life. I thought I’d be able to build something for myself on the frontier, so I emigrated like so many other ex-soldiers. And then I found myself settling into a predictable life as a respected businessman, selling draughts to merchants and encouraging miscarriages in their mistresses.” He saw the look on Patton’s face. “Do I shock you?”

Patton shook his head, and hoped Cleburne believed him. He’d tried to present himself as a gay dog, but the truth was he knew almost nothing about women. He decided he had more important things to worry about just now. “You found that life boring?” he said. It was clumsy, but he wanted Cleburne talking about anything else.

“It was comfortable,” Cleburne said, “and that was the problem. I could have been a successful druggist in Dublin or London. Coming to North America was my way of forcing myself to build a new life, to try to be more than I’d been before. So when Stewart asked me to watch out for you—yes, Patton, he did—I didn’t think much about it—I just saddled my horse, packed an insufficient amount of food, and set off after you. I nearly lost you a couple of times; that Nelson was a good scout. But in the end your trail wasn’t too hard to follow, I guess.”

He sat up. “I’d no idea what I planned to do when I caught up with you beyond asking if I could go with you wherever it was you were going. But now that your Captain Nelson is dead, I think it’s fair for me to ask: What happens next?”

Aye, that’s the question, Patton thought. What do I dare tell him? I owe Cleburne a lot; he’s saved my life, after all. But it’s not a matter of whether I trust him. Will Colonel Walker trust him?

“Oh, God,” he said, realization dawning.

“What’s the matter?” Cleburne asked, sitting up straight.

What in the world am I going to tell Colonel Walker about Nelson? Patton asked himself.

One thing at a time, he decided. “This will take a while to tell,” he said to Cleburne. “What do you know about Texas?”

Next    Chapter One    Chapter Two

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