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[Continuing chapter seven, which is a long one and will continue to appear next week]
Walker had pickets out, after a fashion: two men on horseback lagged well behind the rear of the column as it moved along the road. One of the men turned his head abruptly as Patton approached, then pulled his horse around while shouting something inaudible to the other man. If I’d been in less of a hurry, Patton thought, I could have killed those two without breaking stride. He wondered if Colonel Walker knew how poorly was his rear being guarded.
“Halt!” the first man shouted, raising his rifle—one of the Curries Stewart was so proud of, Patton noted. “Identify yourselves!”
“Captain Patton to see Colonel Walker,” Patton said, trying to suppress a grin and the excitement he felt. “It’s urgent.”
“We’ll see about that,” the man said. “You just set yourselves there, boys. Go and tell Cap’n Wheat about this,” he said to his companion as he leveled his rifle at Patton’s mid-section.
A few minutes later, Patton heard the thud of hooves on the packed earth of the road, and Colonel Walker came up a shallow slope. He was accompanied by a tall, handsome man who bore himself like a cavalier—might this be Captain Wheat? The two men drew up beside Patton, placing themselves on either side of him. Cleburne sidled his horse out of their way.
“Where is Captain Nelson?” were the first words from Walker’s mouth. “And Wilson?”
Patton had been dreading the question, but forced himself to stay calm. As much of the truth as possible, he reminded himself. Walker’s own words to you. “I regret to say, sir, that Captain Nelson is dead.” He let the impact of his announcement sink in a moment before continuing. “We were ambushed by a man named McConnell. One of the Irish conspirators Captain Stewart got mixed up with in New Orleans. He was gut-shot, in cold blood just a day out of Vidalia while we were on our way to join you. As for Wilson, he made me leave him alone with Captain Stewart at Mrs. Beacon’s.” True, so far as it goes, Patton thought. “I haven’t seen him since.” Not alive, at any rate. “We gave up waiting and set out after you. Sorry it’s taken us so long, but we missed you at Natchitoches.”
“Damn,” the tall man said. “Gut-shot? That’s no way to die.”
“Why?” Walker struggled with some terrible emotion, and Patton had to steel himself to continue looking into those pale, empty eyes.
“Sir, could we discuss this later?” Patton asked. “I have important news.”
“We will discuss this now!” Walker hadn’t raised his voice, but Patton winced anyway. “Why was he able to be taken that way? How did you fail him, Mister Patton?”
Keep your breathing steady, Patton thought. “No disrespect meant, sir, but Captain Nelson’s death was his own fault.”
“You’d best be careful, Patton,” Walker said. “Allison Nelson was a good friend of mine.”
“I said I meant no disrespect,” Patton countered. “The fact is, he was in too much of a hurry to rejoin you, sir. It was his plan that we followed, and when I expressed my misgivings I was forcibly reminded of who was in command. Sir.”
“That sounds like Nelson,” the tall man said.
“Wheat, I expect better from you,” Walker said.
“Come on, Colonel,” Wheat said. “You know how I felt about Nelson. He never was one to weigh the odds, though—you have to admit that. And didn’t you tell him in Cuba that his recklessness would catch up with him one day?” Wheat removed his wide-brimmed hat—I should get one like that, Patton thought—and lowered his head.
“I know,” Walker said. “I know. I guess I’d always assumed that when it happened I’d be there.”
For a moment the breathing of the horses was the only sound Patton heard. “The young man said he had important news,” Wheat prompted.
Walker straightened up in his saddle; there was life in his eyes again. “And what might that be, Mister Patton?” Walker asked.
“You’re going to be attacked, sir.” Patton hoped this meant there’d be no more questions about Nelson. The more you had to repeat a lie, the greater the chance you’d be caught in it. “Maybe within the hour.”
“Well, that’s sooner than I was expecting,” Wheat said.
“What kind of attack, exactly?” Walker asked, all business again. “How many men? Regulars, militia?”
“Neither, sir. As we were trying to catch up with you, we encountered a group of about three dozen men on this road, maybe two miles back into the woods.” Patton tried to remember the name they’d used. “They called themselves Moderators, I think. They seem to be supporters of the current government. At any rate, there was a pair of lawmen with them, one a marshal.”
“A Texas marshal, or a town marshal? We should assume the former.” Walker looked back along the road, then twisted around to look west along the road. “What’s your estimate of the danger they represent, Mister Patton?”
“Not very great, sir. Not so long as they don’t surprise you. They didn’t seem very disciplined; they’ll probably run at the first sign of organized resistance.”
“That won’t be hard to do,” Wheat said.
“No, it wouldn’t,” Walker agreed. “But I’d rather not wait for them to come to me. If they get too close, any survivors might be able to give an accurate report of our strength. We’re better served if we keep our numbers a mystery even if our presence here isn’t a secret any more.”
Wheat gave Walker a glance that made Patton wonder if there wasn’t some tension between the two men. Their presence in Texas was supposed to have been a mystery until they were before Washington; he remembered Walker discussing that back in New Orleans. How exactly, Patton asked himself, did Walker get the population so riled? The gang in the woods had talked of murder. At the time Patton had dismissed that talk as the ravings of a mob. Now, seeing the expression on Wheat’s face, he found himself reassessing those accusations.
“Captain Wheat,” Walker said, “what I’d like you to do is take your company on a swing around behind that gang. Hit them as soon as you find them, and before they come on us. I’ll keep the column moving, but with part of Pickett’s company trailing behind as a rear guard. Under no circumstances is any one of those people to get close enough to get an accurate estimation of our strength.”
“It’ll be my pleasure,” said Wheat. He turned his horse around and spurred it into a gallop back to the column.
“Now,” Walker said to Patton, “who is this gentleman with you?” He nodded at Cleburne, who rode forward.
“My name is Patrick Ronayne Cleburne,” he said. “I’m from County Cork, by way of New Orleans.”
“Mr. Cleburne is the druggist we told you about in New Orleans,” Patton said. “He’s the one who helped Stewart with his leg. He wanted to come along, and since he has a military background, I thought you might find him useful.”
“Soldier, were you?” Walker examined Cleburne carefully. “No—an officer, I’ll wager. Not in the cavalry, though. The British would never have an Irishman in one of their elite regiments. So, a junior infantry officer, then. Still, if you’ve kept pace with Patton here, you clearly know how to ride. How think you of Texas?”
“Not at all until a few days ago,” Cleburne said. “I think now that I like it here.” Cleburne’s voice was closed, tight—not so much that Walker would notice, but Patton, who had grown accustomed to the rhythms of the Irishman’s speech, felt a weight of unhappiness settle on him. Cleburne, for whatever reason, seemed to have taken a dislike to Walker. Had he taken offense at Walker’s assessment of his experience? Walker’s a hard man, Patton thought at Cleburne, but you have to have had experience with hard men in your career. Why get your back up at this one, when so much is riding on our being accepted back into this expedition?
If Walker had sensed anything negative in Cleburne’s response, he ignored it. “I’m always happy to add an experienced man to my command,” he said. “I have several Irishmen with me, and they’ve served well thus far. Mr. Patton, I’m assigning the two of you to Captain Pickett. You will serve in the ranks for now—I’m assuming you’d like to stay together—but if you perform well I’ll give each of you a section of your own to command. Now, follow me. I’ll introduce you to Pickett, and you can explain the situation to him.”
Next Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
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