"I understand you wanted to see me, Sir" William said to General Forrester, who stood over a large map lit by a lantern held by Colonel Markham.
Concern laced his voice, as it was nearing midnight and rarely was he ever summoned to a meeting at this hour. Usually, these late night meetings, though few and far between, meant bad news.
"Ah yes, William my boy." Forrester said, waving William over with a weathered hand. "We've received dispatches from Washington asking that we send our reserve units towards Tennessee, to join up with General William Rosecrans' Army of the Cumberland. They are marching here" he pointed to a spot near Chatanooga, Tennessee. "Contacts have placed a large Confederate force somewhere over here" he motioned to another spot, not far away. "If the two forces meet, there is a chance that the Union troops may be cut off from their counterparts, further north in Virginia. You and I will be taking about 500 men and movin, to make sure that doesn't happen."
William frowned slightly.
"Only 500 sir?" He asked, knowing that there were nearly 1200 soldiers in the area. Forrester nodded.
"That is correct. Lt. Burbank will be taking about 200 up to New York. The President has issued orders that reserve units be moved back into our major cities, due to war protests that are taking place. In an effort to curb the escalating violence, small units have been recalled home until tempers subside. General Fitzwilliam will remain here, within marching distance of Richmond and DC. We are being forced to divide up our numbers."
"Sir, with the scattered Confederate defenses left behind, will 500 be enough should we come across local militia?" William asked, carefully studying the map laid before them.
Although the route to Tennessee was clearly marked on paper, he knew that the mountains and forests through which they would travel were likely pockmarked with enemy troops. Because the rebel troops had the advantage of fighting on their own territory, and that the Union soldiers would be weary from the lengthy march, a meeting of forces, even if equal in size, would place the northerners at a severe disadvantage.
The General looked up at the younger officer, his weathered face weary in the flickering lantern light. "It will have to be, I'm afraid." He glanced back down at the map. "Scouts will be sent ahead, with cavalry flanking our rear. We will travel light and fast, so please select only the fittest and healthiest in your unit. We march in three weeks' time"
"Sir, many of these men are naught but boys. Perhaps if we had more time, more of the Gettysburg wounded will heal." William said, worried about taking so many untried soldiers deeper into the heart of the south. The General shook his head.
"No my boy, we have no choice but to make do. I suggest you begin training with them on the morrow."
William saw his own emotions, the same reservations, echoed on the face of his commander. This was war, he supposed, not best-case scenario.
"Yes sir" he answered, nodding in deference, and then stepping back outside into the night.
He wandered for a moment, considering the information that he had just received. When he looked up, finally breaking his concentration, he realized that he had stopped only feet from the entrance to Elizabeth's tent.
Taking a deep breath and running a shaky hand through his hair, he was struck for a moment by concern for the young woman. He knew she belonged here, further away from the battles, yet a part of him was already aching with the thought of absence.
Pull yourself together he though bitterly, kicking a stone in frustration. She wont give a damn that you've gone.
As frustrated as he was at the though of her indifference, he was even more frustrated at his own reaction to that perceived indifference: it hurt him.
He walked off brusquely, angry at himself for having bevome so vulnerable. Heaven help him, but he was falling for her, and he feared her rejection more than he feared marching back into the war itself.
He scared her.
That was the only decent explanation that Elizabeth could come up with that explained why she was always on edge around William. She must be afraid of him.
He scares me, he scares me, he scares me...
"Who scares you?" came Rose's soft, rich voice from the pallet nearby. Startled, Elizabeth hadn't even realized that she had been saying it out loud.
"No one" came her reply, but even her voice lacked conviction. "Good night Rose" she said quietly, but sternly enough that the older woman asked no questions, merely responded in the same manner.
Elizabeth turned over in her makeshift cot, and noisily settled in to the blanket, feigning exhaustion. Her mind was racing though.
It would only make sense that he scared her.
But why? What has he done to give me any reason to fear him?
He killed her family. She thought bitterly on that, trying to summon up the hate needed to harden her heart. But that hatred that she had so fiercly held on to while watching her famiy's home burn never came.
He was following orders.
But he didn't have to obey them!
Even as she tried to convince herself, Elizabeth knew what happened to disobedient soldiers. They couldn't return to their camp, for fear of the firsce retribution. No, they were branded as deserters. There were stories of the Home Guard, left behind to "protect" towns even from soldiers trying to flee the horror of the war for the comforting embrace of their loved ones. Instead, those men came home to the cold and loveless embrace of the noose, their desertion treated as a crime equal to murder or rape.
Murder.
What about little Matthew though, was that following orders?
William wasn't the one who killed him, he had no control over that.
He had taken her from her home!
But was there anything left of that home remaining?
Not anymore, thanks to him.
But with the entire Union army advancing on Richmond, how much longer would I really have had? Days? Months?
Better freedom than captivity though.
But how many captives are given the freedom that I have? Elizabeth wasn't exactly being starved, mishandled, or tortured. Instead she was treated as any one of the medical staff, was given food, clothing, shelter...
It was quickly becoming clear to troubled young woman that, although she still harbored some negative feelings towards the officer, he had not given her any reason to fear him. None since they had arrived here at camp, No, she was not afraid of him.
So why did she find her pulse rising when he was near? Why did her thoughts seem to tangle themselves so that her normally quick and sarcastic comments were reduced to clumsily stubborn complaints? She behaved irratically, impatiently, she stumbled, she stuttered, she blushed... oh my God.
Elizabeth stuffed her fisted hand against her mouth to keep from crying out at the revelation threatened to shatter her.
I'm falling in love with him.
[Reviews - 230]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 1539 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
thanks for your patience gus, I had some trouble with editing this chapter. This is just a brief interlude, but another chapter will be following soon!