A smirk flirted with Payne’s lips. “You were a fun case. How’s your back?”
“It’ll heal.”
“Mmm.” Payne’s eyes glowed in the dim firelight. “Must still be raw. And the thumbs? I seem to remember a lot of begging to keep those thumbs intact.”
“Fuck you.”
“You have such a mouth on you.”
“Step aside and I’ll let you live another day.”
Payne placed a hand on his chest. “You’ll let me live? I do believe you are in my camp, Lieutenant? Or is that a lie too?”
“That’s not the only thing I lied about.”
Payne’s eyebrows narrowed, and the realization about the assassination letter filled him with sudden malice. Something he’d been so sure of was false. “No matter now. The newspapers took care of that.”
“No, it matters. You’ll die for what you done to me and my men.”
“I think not. I am a hard man to kill,” Payne said with a soft chuckle.
“Don’t matter.”
Payne’s step forward caused Wolf to tense. He prepared to throw Shugart to the ground and go for his holstered pistol, a move that surely would be slow unless he could toss Shugart’s body far enough to disrupt Payne’s attention from his draw.
Payne seemed to sense what he was thinking and stopped, cocking his head to the side. “I am eager to find out just how good you are with a blade? Or would you prefer a duel with pistols? You are an intriguingly stubborn fellow.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I must say I prefer a good saber duel any day of the week. Much more personal, don’t you think?”
Wolf didn’t answer. He could care less about a duel. He would kill this wretched man with blades, bullets, or balled fists, the method mattered not. Only that his evil was extinguished.
“Let me pass.”
“Now you know I can’t let you leave here.”
“You will if you want Flora back.” It was his only bargaining chip now, and he threw it on the table to see if his opponent bit on it.
“A shrewd negotiator.” Payne glanced over his shoulder. “A quick whistle and this camp comes to life. Unlike your friend there.” He laughed softly. “Such a holy crusade he was on. Abolishing all the sins of mankind. Such a noble crusader.”
Wolf ignored his slanderous words. “You kill me, and you’ll never find her.”
“Who said anything about killing? You know me. I like to have a conversation.”
Sweat trickled down Wolf’s back, stinging its way toward his trousers. “If I don’t make it back, my men will kill her.”
“You truly have the heart of a monster, Lieutenant Wolf, threatening a poor innocent soul like that.”
“What if I said you could have both? Free Flora and get your duel?”
Genuine shock enveloped Payne’s face. “You would make me a most happy man.”
“All you have to do is let me go now.”
“You are a fickle one, aren’t you? But you have a reputation as a liar. This puts me in quite the predicament. However should I choose?”
“I haven’t come alone. Your camp is surrounded.”
Payne eyed the darkness with renewed interest. “Then you should have surprised and killed every last one of us. That is if you were a smart man. Instead you came sneaking in like a dirty redskin.”
A knife appeared at Payne’s throat. The orange flames glinted on the blade. George’s face peered over Payne’s shoulder.
“Quiet one aren’t we?” Payne said lifting his chin even higher to avoid being cut. He lifted his hands in the air. “Perhaps you should finish me now? Unarmed. A knife at my throat. I assure you, the odds will never be better.”
Wolf shook his head at his man. “No, George.”
George removed the blade and took a step back. Payne rubbed his neck for a moment. “Such a tender caress.”
“Tomorrow at 10 a.m. We meet at Davidson Farm. You’ll get Flora back and your duel.”
Payne showed him white-as-snow teeth. He bowed low to Wolf, sweeping his hat off on the way downward. “Then you and your friend may retire.”
Wolf stepped softly past his most vile enemy. His skin prickled and pimpled as he crossed in front of him. Payne’s hand snaked out, and he latched onto Wolf’s upper arm like a rattlesnake on a warm summer night. He snarled, hissing at him. “Unhand me.”
Payne’s face closed on Wolf’s until he was only a few inches away. Wolf didn’t recoil but lifted his chin at the man. “You hear me loud and clear, Wolf. I will hunt down and kill every last one of you.” He took a breath, his voice growing in hostility. “You will all die screaming.” His eyes became less fierce and his grip loosened. “Keep your word, and I will show them mercy by hanging them as the common criminals they are instead.”
“At 10 a.m., you’ll get your chance.”
Payne released him, a smile back on his devilish lips. “Then I bid you adieu.” Wolf took quiet steps away from his mortal enemy.
George grabbed Shugart and together they hurried away from the camp.
The man wouldn’t shoot him in the back. No, it wasn’t his style. He wanted to be up-close and personal for his rival’s death. And the feeling was mutual.
Payne’s words drilled into him one by one. “Sleep well, Wolf, for it will be your last.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Near Midnight, May 10, 1864
Yellow Tavern, Virginia
A fire burned in the tavern’s crumbling fireplace. Stone and mortar had chipped and broken away in disrepair, crumbling in pieces on the floor. Bright orange flames leapt from charring logs.
Wolf sat in his chair, his arms folded across his chest. He was done listening to a word Hogan had to say. It seemed that every man had an opinion on the coming battle, and none of it matched his own.
Hogan leaned on the table. “We didn’t come all this way to release her on the eve of battle.”
Wolf continued to stare at the fire. “You said it yourself. The battle lines are drawn. Sheridan has his set piece match. We done our part.”
“He’s right, Hogan,” said Roberts with a nod for Wolf. “We done enough.”
“I say we just kill her and make for Union lines,” Adams said, leaning against a support beam. He stuck out his bottom lip and shrugged his shoulders. “Simple enough.”
Flora’s mouth dropped, appalled by his idea.
“We ain’t killing her,” Wolf said. He glared at the swarthy man and went back to the crackle of his fire. These men couldn’t be trusted to not kill, burn, steal, or rape anything.
“No evidence is the best kind,” Adams said. He glanced at Hogan. “If the Irishman is right, and we are near surrounded by the secesh bastards then I for one don’t want to be found with the Beau Sabreur’s wife.”
“You shouldn’t. He’ll have you shot,” Flora added.
Adams pointed a finger in her direction. “You sure we can’t gag her?”
“No gag.”
“Sergeant Berles,” Wolf said across the room.
The German sergeant stood. “Yes.”
“On the morrow, you are to take this unit back to Union lines.”
Wilhelm’s mustache twitched under his nose. He moved to the table. “Why wouldn’t their commanding officer lead such a movement?”
Wolf looked up at him. Wilhelm’s eyes clung to the truth, yet he forced the words from Wolf’s mouth. “Because your commanding officer will not be with you.”
“And where will he be?”
Wolf’s eyes darted at Flora before he spoke. “I will be delivering that lady back to her husband.”
Wilhelm looked away. “This is not something you can do on your own.”
“Wrong. This is exactly something I must do on my own. Payne will keep his word.”
Wilhelm’s jaw tightened in anger. “You know that man is vile. He will cheat you the first chance he gets.”
“No, he won’t. One of us isn’t walking away after tomorrow. It�
��s all a game to him. He wants a duel. He’ll get one.”
“You should not do this alone.” Wilhelm shook his head in dissatisfaction. “At the very least take me with you so I can watch your back.” His eyes were filled with pain of loss. Loss that was going to be multiplied as he would surely lose his adopted son on this mission. To have lost one child was more than enough. “I cannot follow those orders.”
“You will, Sergeant. I won’t lead these men to the slaughter because it gives me a better chance at making it out. No. Let me return this woman and kill Payne then I’ll find you.”
“Yes, sir,” Wilhelm said. His words held the weight of doubt.
“You don’t have to yes sir me, Wilhelm. Not now.”
“Yes, I do. Especially when you give bad orders.”
“Bad they may be, but those are my orders.”
Wilhelm dipped his head with a slight shake. “You will do well to survive this.”
The fire rippled in the fireplace. Payne was a master horseman, deadly with the saber and pistol alike. Wolf was good with a saber but not the best. His training was practical. Survivable. He didn’t have years beneath his belt. The first he’d ever held a sword was in training with Wilhelm as his instructor.
“I’ve watched you train and fight. Remember to use your horse. Your horse can put distance between you and a man. It can also kill a man if used properly.”
Wolf listened intently. His horse gave him a distinct mobility that wasn’t afforded him on the ground with his own two legs. He thought Sarah would do her part as long as he stayed mounted. If he was unseated, then he would struggle to keep up with his athletic enemy.
Wilhelm continued. “He’ll be quick, but he sounds like a man who enjoys the fight. He will feint and jab to test your defenses. Do not fall for these. Always be moving. It makes it harder on your opponent. Sit still and you’ll die.”
“I will keep what you’ve said in mind.”
“Good. Then I suggest you get some rest.”
“You as well. That goes for the rest of you. Get some rest. Roberts, you’re on the first watch.”
Wilhelm retired to his blanket on the floor. The man settled and laid still. The other men murmured their goodnights, finding places near the fire. Flora moved over to her corner away from the men.
He wasn’t ready to sleep just yet. Can one be ready when such a battle commences with the morning sun? How can he sleep knowing it could be his last night? Shouldn’t he soak in every second and enjoy every minute since they could be his last? He fed all his swirling thoughts into the flames, letting his mind come to some sort of equilibrium. One must be at peace with their own death to batter down their fear before a mortal contest.
Roberts added a log on the fire and joined him. He pulled out an unlabeled bottle, setting the caramel-colored liquor on the table. He gave Wolf a sheepish grin. “Heard you talking to Wilhelm. Thought maybe you and me could share a bottle.” His dark eyes read Wolf fondly but with remorse. This would be the last time to share a drink as brothers until they met again. If they met again. Wolf didn’t fool himself to the reality of the coming battle.
“Ain’t no Madam Scarlet Grey’s, but then again, we can pretend,” Roberts said. He tugged the cork from the bottle’s lips and pointed it at Wolf. “Here’s to you my friend. Escapee of Libby. Savior of Custer. Survivor of Dahlgren’s Raid.” He took a long pull then wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “Not bad.” He handed the bottle off to Wolf.
Wolf tipped the bottle back and let the warm liquid run down his throat but not too much. He’d learned enough from this war to know he didn’t want to fight hungover.
“That all? You gone soft on me, Lieutenant? Rank making you lame?”
Wolf slid the bottle back across the table. “No. Just want my mind to be clear for tomorrow.”
“No drinks ever hurt us too much, on account of the practice ’n all.”
“No, but I can’t be slow or foggy. I’m going to fight Payne tomorrow.”
“I heard ya. I’ll go with you,” Roberts averted his eyes with a nod.
“No.”
“You can’t go this alone. Let your trusty pal ride with you. I ain’t scared of dying. I mean I’d rather live. But no man should have to fight alone.”
The fire popped, tossing embers into the air. Roberts’s death would be on his hands. It would be selfish to keep the man by his side solely because he didn’t want to die alone. Why waste so many lives when one will do?
“This journey I must take on my own.” He stood. Roberts’s eyes followed him, but he was silent. “Tomorrow is a big day. I must try to rest.”
“I got this feeling everything is going to be all right.” Roberts corked his bottle and kicked his feet up on a chair across from Flora.
Wolf gave him a sad grin. “Me too.” He stripped off his black jacket and draped it on his chair. While unbuttoning his shirt, he contemplated the battle he would surely undertake. His thoughts were a bit warmer from the whiskey, but he knew that he would have to be lucky to win. And he hadn’t felt super lucky of late. He laid his shirt over his jacket.
The cool air touching his burnt back still stung the fresh skin more than he thought it should, but the shirt rubbing on it all day didn’t feel right either. He rolled a blanket on the ground and sat on his bedroll to remove his boots.
“Lieutenant?” came a feminine voice.
Flora approached him. He regarded her coolly. “Yes, ma’am?”
“What happened to your back?”
“Before this I was at Libby Prison.” As he looked at her, the tale of untold horror in his blue eyes discomfited her.
“That happened at the prison?” She stood expectantly, blinking in his silence. “At Libby Prison?”
“Yes, it did.”
“You were in a fire?”
He sucked in air through his nose, letting it exhale to calm him. “No, ma’am.” He tugged off his other boot, setting it alongside its accomplice. He wiggled his toes, feeling the ecstasy of freedom.
She gulped and blinked rapidly as she began to understand his meaning. “You were burned?”
“They wanted information.”
Her mouth opened and closed, uncertain of what to say next. “I’m not sure I can believe that. It’s so barbaric.”
“It’s war, ma’am.” His eyes met hers. “War’s barbaric.”
“Who did this? I will have him arrested. My husband will see to it.” She lifted her chin in her staunch moral stance.
“He’s a captain in Hampton’s cavalry.”
Her voice dipped in shock. “He’s one of my husband’s men?”
“I suppose so.”
She gulped again. “I will see that he is notified. I’m sure he doesn’t know about what has transpired.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Tomorrow you’ll see him again.”
“You have my thanks.”
“I don’t deserve thanks. We held you against your will.”
She gave him a short smile. “You are not forgiven for that.”
“Didn’t expect you to be the forgiving type.” His eyes weighed her reaction.
“I am a righteous woman. I judge a man by his character. Your character is rough, in need of a woman’s touch and a preacher’s guidance, but I think you can be molded into a gentler man.”
His brow creased. “I doubt that. I think it might be too late for me in that regard. I’m married to the army now.”
“My husband does both.” Her eyes averted with a stab of shame. “There’s always rumors and admirers and the letters. I guess that’s what comes with being the famous cavalier.” She smiled softly, her commanding exterior melting before him exposing a hidden rawness. “Sometimes I feel like a sideshow. Even when our firstborn died, he was reluctant to return home. I needed him the most then.” Her eyes watered as she recalled the lonely sadness. “But this war took everything from him, and in turn, it did the same to me.”
Wolf was uncomfortable with her opennes
s. After all, this woman had despised him for days and now chose to open up about her relationship with an enemy general. “I. I don’t know about that, ma’am.”
She wiped the corner of her eye. “Sometimes it’s easier with my enemy than with my own people.”
“We aren’t enemies, ma’am. We’re all Americans. This will end one day.”
“I surely hope so. None of us have truly gained anything from this disagreement. Reconciliation would be beneficial for all.”
“Your father will take his kin back.”
“You do not know the extent of it.”
“I know that if he is a man with an ounce of sense, he will accept you when this is over.”
“We can hope,” she said, brushing the corner of her eye. “You know I’m not from the South.”
“I do.”
“Well, don’t you know everything.” She gave him an extra glare. “My father was actually from Virginia but stayed with the Union. Jeb says he will continually regret it for the rest of his life.”
“A man must live with the decisions he makes.”
“One must. I’ve committed solely to Jeb and Virginia. I have promised to raise our children—” She stopped herself. Wolf could tell the death of her first child still tormented her. “Our children whom you’ve ripped me from. I promised to raise them in the South no matter the outcome of this conflict.”
Wolf didn’t know what his future held. If he did survive his duel with Payne, it would most likely lead to more war, more danger, and more death. “I suppose I’ll try to reenlist when the war is done. If I can’t do that, I’ll go home to my family in Michigan.”
“I attended boarding school in Detroit.” She smiled a bit. “And lived in about every Army fort there was on the frontier.”
“I suppose it’s the only real place I’ve ever known. My family went there when they came to this country.”
“German?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Cherish them. They are the only free thing you get in this life.” Her words stung him more than she could know. His death in the morning was almost assured. It pained him knowing that it would happen without saying goodbye to his mother and father and sisters. But he had made his farewell with his adoptive military family, and somehow that seemed enough. Enough to let those men live while he dealt with this.
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