by Jana Petken
She galloped across an expanse of grass bordering the road. Within seconds, she was on the muddy thoroughfare with the Confederacy in her sights but still within range of the Yankees’ rifles. She had not heard any gunshots. Maybe the Yankees didn’t want to give away their position by firing guns. “Come on! Come on!” she urged Coal. She was within striking distance of the column. “Faster, Coal!” she shouted this time.
She screamed at the cavalry to stop. They were about a hundred and fifty yards ahead of her now and would soon hear Coal’s racing hooves.
The horsemen at the rear of the column turned. Sergeant Tybrook stopped and waited for the horse to catch up. The other horsemen had their rifles pointed straight at Mercy. When Sergeant Tybrook saw the rider’s mass of black hair fanning out like a cloak and billowing in the wind, he said, “Lower your guns, boys. I reckon I might know who this is. It’s Captain Stone’s woman.”
Mercy caught up with the horses and riders. Their guns were still pointing in her direction, but they had been lowered. She hadn’t thought about being shot by them, she realised. “Don’t shoot!” she shouted, finally reaching them. “Don’t shoot me!” Her throat felt as though it were full of gravel. She tried desperately to catch her breath and speak at the same time but found herself uttering hoarse whispers. “Yankees – Yankee soldiers behind you, up there in the trees!” she managed to say to Tybrook and the others. She pointed in the direction of where she thought she had seen them. “They’re about three hundred yards behind you, on that hill. They didn’t shoot at me, but they must have seen me. They’ve been watching you for a while.”
When Tybrook spoke, his voice was calm, but it also held urgency. “Ma’am, how many are there?”
“I counted seven, maybe eight. I couldn’t see them clearly. It’s thick with bushes up there, so there could be a lot more lying low. It’s also dense with trees and bleedin’ hard to get through them. Bloody ’ell, I thought I was going to fall off my horse!”
“Come with me,” Tybrook told her. “You need to tell Captain Stone exactly what you’ve just told me.”
Mercy followed the sergeant, riding at a canter towards the head of the line, still scared but grinning from ear to ear at the sound of Jacob’s name. When they reached the front of the long infantry column, Tybrook pulled up sharply. Mercy and Coal came alongside him. She looked past him, and her heart lurched at the sight of Jacob. She would know that profile and black unruly hair anywhere.
“Captain Stone, sir!” Tybrook shouted as he drew up beside Jacob.
Jacob’s body swayed gently in the saddle. He had one hand resting casually on his thigh and the other one holding the reins loosely. He turned his head at the sound of Tybrook’s voice, and upon seeing Mercy beside his sergeant, he blurted out in surprise, “Mercy, what the hell …?”
“My apologies, Captain, but we ain’t got no time for niceties,” Tybrook butted in. “The lady here has just informed me that we’ve got Yankees up there on that hill. I reckon they’re waiting for us to git before cutting the telegraph poles farther up the road. Been watching us for a while, the lady reckons.”
“How many did you see, Mercy?” Jacob asked.
“She reckons about seven or eight,” Tybrook told Jacob. “We could get up there and take them.”
“I agree,” Jacob said. “Mercy, point out where you think you saw them.”
Mercy pointed. “Back down the road and up on the ridge. I didn’t see horses but I heard them. I didn’t stick around up there to see what they were up to. But I can tell you, they were interested in your column.”
Jacob nodded, staring up at the hill, clearly deep in thought. He turned and grinned at her, saying hurriedly, “I’ll look forward to hearing all about the reason you are here when I get back.” Jacob then addressed one of his men. “Corporal, she stays put. Do not let this lady out of your sight. Guard her with your life.” Jacob rode to her, kissed her soundly, grinned, and then he was gone at a gallop, with dust kicking up behind him.
Chapter Fifty
Jacob rode down the line, ordering twenty cavalrymen to ride with him. As they cantered towards the rear of the column, Jacob told the horsemen to gather around. “Tybrook, we don’t have much time. The Yankees might have left their position by now, but if they are still there, they’ll know we’re coming for them. With a bit of luck, we might get one or two, if we get up there. I don’t know about y’all, but I would like to know what the hell they’re doing so far behind our lines.
“We need to take as many of them as we can alive, but if we have to kill them all, that’s what we’ll do. I’m not leaving them here to snap those wires just erected.” Jacob directed his next order at Tybrook. “Sergeant, take ten men with you. We’ll have a better chance of cutting the enemy off if we split up. Get across the field at this point here as quickly as you can and climb the hill. Take your men along the ridge towards the spot the lady pointed out. You might be looking at a three-hundred-yard run before you come across the Yankees. When you get to the treeline up there, ride like the blazes and keep firing until the bastards reveal their position.”
Jacob and his ten men took the most dangerous route. He spurred his men on, knowing that this would be a good capture, especially if they got a live Union soldier to interrogate. He and his men crossed the field; upon coming to the foot of the hill, they turned their horses north. They rode at a gallop, parallel now to the road that the column had just travelled. Jacob was aware of the risk as he rode. He and his men were probably in the Yankees’ line of fire and might be picked off one by one when passing below the enemy’s position.
“Open fire up at the treeline on my say so!” he shouted, kicking Thor into a gallop. If he blasted all the way along the hill’s ridge until he was past the Yankees, he might be able to divert their attention and give Tybrook the opportunity to take them before they had time to get away …
Mercy watched Jacob take the longer route along the foot of the hill and immediately heard the first shots being fired. She looked about her. The infantry and remaining cavalrymen had rifles pointing towards the hill and treeline. Infantry on foot, horsemen, and wagons were bunched together like a herd of cows being corralled. A rough pair of hands unseated Mercy from her horse. She found herself on the ground, surrounded by a dozen men, and shouted at them to let her up. “I can’t breathe down here. Blimey, I can’t even see daylight!” she told them angrily. Would you mind letting me stand up?”
Men were shouting, ignoring her pleas. She wanted to see what was going on, but it seemed that Jacob’s orders to keep her safe had been taken very seriously.
She prayed for Jacob whilst still trembling with fear from her own dash for safety. Gunfire was echoing all around her. She had never heard so many guns explode with bullets at the same time. “Let me stand up!” Mercy shouted. “I have to see what’s happening.”
“Stay put!” a voice shouted down at her. “Ain’t nothin’ to see, lady. Captain Stone’s disappeared up the hill. Tybrook and his men are out of sight.”
“Is anybody hurt – can you tell me that at least?”
“Ain’t nobody come off their horse yet. Guess that’s a good sign. You just sit tight till we get the all clear. Don’t you worry none. I reckon Captain Stone will be on his way back soon enough, and he’ll be draggin’ one of them blue self-righteous behinds with him.”
It seemed to Mercy as if an hour had gone by, yet it had probably only been a few minutes. The gunfire in the distance continued to sound like thunder in the sky. It sounded so close that Mercy was convinced they were being fired upon. She asked God, his saints, and his angels to keep Jacob and his men safe, and then she stopped halfway through her requests to wonder if she done the right thing by reporting the Yankees and putting Jacob and his men in danger in the first place.
Jacob might get killed. His men might die. The Yankees could be shot dead too – all of them. Blood on her hands – that’s what she would have, even more blood on her hands. Dear God in h
eaven, how could she live with that knowledge?
“For goodness’ sake, let me stand up. I have to see!” Mercy begged. She would go crazy if she were forced to sit in this cocoon any longer.
“Boys, help the lady to her feet,” she heard a soldier say. “Them Yankees ain’t firing in our direction. I reckon our men are keeping them nice and busy. They ain’t got no time to be taking any notice of what’s going on here.”
The men moved back. Mercy stood and dusted herself off. The gunfire continued. She looked around her, jumping skittishly every time a shot was fired. Many of the infantry had all but disappeared. They had left the road and now took defensive positions in a cluster of trees and a shallow ditch behind her. She led Coal and joined them, happy to be away from the open road and threat of bullets. She found a tree trunk and sat down, with her back against it, grateful for the chance to get off her trembling legs.
Seconds seemed like minutes, minutes like hours, as she waited for silence. Eventually, after a long while, the gunfire became more sporadic and then stopped completely. She was now not sure what was worse, hearing shots or hearing nothing. She stood, thankful that she no longer wobbled like jelly. The remaining cavalry were still on the road in front of her. They had spread out like a fan, protecting the infantry whilst still watching the hill.
Finally, a horseman shouted, “They’re back!” The Confederate yell rang out. Mercy wondered at the strange sound. She had heard it often by enthusiastic soldiers and civilians alike. It seemed to be quite the rage.
She ran onto the road and felt her heart fill up with pure joy. At the front of the line, Jacob and Thor looked magnificently noble and proud. Both horse and rider held their heads high, and as they cantered towards her, she felt tears of happiness well up her eyes. There were horses and men behind Jacob. She couldn’t possibly count them all, but it looked as though all that she saw were unscathed. She waited for the riders to reach the column, longing for the comfort of Jacob’s loving arms and the feel of his mouth on hers. He might be mad at her, she thought, but she didn’t care if he gave her a telling off. She had witnessed him in action, and she had never been so terrified of losing him.
Chapter Fifty-One
Jacob finally found a moment to go to Mercy. He was desperate to speak to her and to hold her, but until now, there had been no time for a proper reunion. He watched her for a moment and thirstily drank in the sight of her. He had not realised how much he had missed her until earlier, when he’d first seen her sitting on that horse, panting for breath and fearing for her life.
A body was consumed with the everyday drudgery of war, he realised. Only in rare moments of solitude did sweet thoughts of home and loved ones surge in the mind like crashing waves. These moments were beautiful reminders of what he was fighting for, but they also brought with them a melancholy which clung to a body, making the grind of war even more unbearable.
The death of his men today had hit him hard. There had been moments when climbing that hill, charging on the Yankees’ position, that he had expected a bullet to hit him. He was still shaking with the fear that had gripped him on that hill, blinded by smoke and deafened by the noise of firing guns.
Mercy sensed Jacob’s presence and turned to face him. She stared, not daring to smile or to speak. He was either going to be very angry with her or very happy to see her, she thought. Still, he said nothing. He was staring at her as though it were the first time he had ever seen her. She had caused no end of bother today. She had been responsible for the death of good men – Jacob’s men –and she felt wretched.
Jacob searched Mercy’s face, wondering how to handle this situation. Should he be angry with her for almost getting killed yet again? Or should he comfort her because she had just gone through a deeply horrific experience in which no woman should have to be involved? He decided to lead with a bit of both. He extended his arm, and she took his hand. He pulled her to his chest, kissed the top of her head, and then held her in silence.
She raised her face and looked into his eyes, bright with remnants of fear still evident. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about your men,” she said.
“Thank you – I am too.”
“Don’t be angry, my love. I have a very good reason for being here,” she told him.
Jacob raised an eyebrow. He was mighty curious as to what that reason could be. He wanted to kiss her into submission and hear her most sincere promise not to put herself in danger again. But he had come to realise awhile back that Mercy Carver did not take kindly to orders, nor would she ever listen to a damn thing he said. “Love, Mercy, makes fools of us all, but I don’t believe you are here because of your high regard for me, and I cannot imagine what other reason would be so important to induce you out here alone, on a horse, in the middle of a damn war zone – so enlighten me,” he said.
“Right now?”
“Yep, right now,” he told her.
“Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t talk about my problems right now – not after what I’ve just seen and heard. I would rather you tell me what those Yankees had to say. I saw more than the five that you brought back. I’m sure I did. What happened to the others?”
“Damn it, Mercy, can you not give me a straight answer to a straight question for once?”
“I will, but I can’t think about anything else right now. I feel like a fool for being here, and your men must hate me for getting them shot at. Those poor men of yours – oh God, they would still be alive if it weren’t for me.”
“Hush. War killed them, not you, so get that out of your pretty little head right now. Warning us about those Yankees was a very brave thing to do, and you have the grateful thanks of the Confederacy for doing the right thing. But I want to know why you are here and how you managed to persuade Mrs Bartlett to let you leave Richmond. Oh, my love, why are you so hell-bent on getting yourself killed? Am I to have no peace of mind?”
“Jacob, will you stop telling me off! Do you know how hard it was to find you?” Mercy said angrily. “I didn’t come all this way to get killed or to be scolded like a child. I’ve been searching everywhere for you. You made me promise not to leave Richmond without telling you where I was going. Well, here I am, telling you that I’m going to Norfolk to find Belle and Dolly because the bloody Yankees are there and have probably thrown them out of their homes. And I’m going to visit your plantation to make sure it’s still yours – what’s so wrong with that?
“I can’t sit still in Richmond any longer. I’m sick of wearing corsets and gowns and painting my lips to please Mrs Bartlett and her husband. I don’t like living in a city surrounded by people who are talking about the war whilst carrying on with parties and silly gossip as though war doesn’t exist. I swear to God, I have more chance of dying of boredom than I have at the tip of a bullet!”
Jacob was unable to stop the laughter from bubbling up inside him. Her language was coarse at times, and she would never be a Southern lady, he thought, but she was the most amusing, infuriating, stubborn, and reckless female he’d ever encountered, and he wouldn’t have her any other way. “Well, you’ve made your feelings known, so how about you listen to mine – can you do that?”
“Yes, I think I can …”
“Captain Stone, sir, the major wants you. He ain’t gettin’ nothing out of them Yankees,” Tybrook said, appearing next to him.
Jacob nodded and turned back to Mercy. “Ma’am, I have not finished with you,” he told her playfully. “Tybrook, it’ll be dark soon. I want to get a few more miles down that road before we make camp. Tell the men to get ready.”
“Sergeant Tybrook, will you tell me what happened on the hill?” Mercy asked.
Jacob smiled and shook his head. “Tell her what she wants to know,” Jacob told Tybrook. “She’s like a dog with a cow’s carcass. She won’t give up till she’s satisfied. Is your wife as stubborn as this lady right here?”
“Sir, I reckon all women are born obstinate and there ain’t nothin’ we men can do about that.”
Mercy stretched her legs out on the ground and rested her back against the tree trunk she had found earlier. She watched the five Union soldiers being interrogated by Jacob and an infantry major and thought about what had happened earlier. She had not seen the Union prisoners at first. She had seen Jacob returning safely, his cavalry behind him, leading the enemy’s horses, and behind them the bodies of two dead cavalrymen draped over their horses’ backs. A few minutes later, five Yankee prisoners, flanked by four Confederate horsemen brandishing rifles, had been marched up the road. This had caused quite a stir amongst the cavalrymen, reeling from the death of their comrades.
She had stumbled away from the scene, unable to watch the bodies of the dead men being laid gently on the ground and the Union soldiers being forced onto their knees, spat at, and insulted. She had not the stomach to watch the hatred emblazoned in Confederate eyes or the look of despair on the faces of the Union soldiers.
She looked at the prisoners now. They sat on the ground, legs crossed and arms tied behind their backs. They looked pitiful, with their heads hanging in defeat. They were dirty and looked as though they had not eaten in days. One of them had been injured. A bandage was wrapped around his head and was stained with blood, still wet in patches. She had done this to these poor men, she thought. Her actions had mapped out their fate. She had halted their plans and had changed their futures with one act.
She closed her eyes and laid her head against the ragged splinters of the tree trunk. She took her hat and placed it behind her head. What she wouldn’t do for a soft bed right now, she thought.
Immeasurable guilt and sadness struck her. Sergeant Tybrook had told her earlier that they had seen nine Yankees. By the time they reached the top of the hill, the Union soldiers were already fleeing for their lives. Tybrook had chased the Yankees, shooting at them the entire time. Jacob and his men had circled around them and had cut off their escape. The Yankees fired, bolting for the cover of trees. Four of them were killed in the ensuing gunfight, hence the reason she had only seen five in the camp.
