Blood Moon (27 page)

Chapter Forty-Nine

Mercy crossed a stone arched bridge sitting over a brook. When she reached the other side, she dismounted and led Coal to the water’s edge. She would rest here. The horse was weary and so was she. The map was unfolded. She spread it out on damp grass. She’d been travelling for hours today, or so it seemed to her stinging behind.

In the past week, she had searched for Jacob, without success. It seemed that on this occasion, fate was not on her side. On the journey, she’d come across a few homesteads where she had begged for food. She had seen dilapidated cabins through the trees from a distance but had not approached them, afraid of who might be in them. She had heard stories of deserters hiding out and being discovered in abandoned buildings.

She’d crossed over a river, and the water had been so deep that it had lapped against her waist. She had seen Confederate infantry marching in the opposite direction, towards Richmond, on her way north, and she’d even ridden into a Confederate encampment in the hopes of seeing Jacob there. Demoralised, she now accepted that looking for Jacob had been like searching for one particular mouse in a wheat field.

She traced the map with her finger and thought about where she’d searched and where she should be looking next. She had gone as far as Fredericksburg, some fifty-eight miles north of Richmond. The cavalry regiment was still there in part, but Jacob had left a week earlier with his company, and he had not returned. Whilst in Fredericksburg, she had been able to take a good look at the Union Army, moving along the north bank of the Rappahannock River. What she had seen had terrified her. Long columns of wagons escorted by blue coat cavalry had been like a blue ribbon stretching for miles. The wagons had probably been filled with food and supplies, sorely lacking now in the capital and in every Virginia household, she had thought at the time.

She had sat on the south bank, looking across at the enemy’s cavalry horses quietly grazing upon the grass-covered fields, and she had shuddered as the fear of God rippled through her. Jacob had already faced this invasion of blue coats, and he was probably going to have to strike at them repeatedly and face death every time. What must soldiers feel when they see tens of thousands of men and weapons determined to take rebel held ground. How did Jacob and his men find the courage to face this giant army and their cannons? The answer to that question was beyond her comprehension, for she had found courage sorely lacking in her at the sight of the swaggering, confident Union army.

She lay now on soft grass, listening to the hurried water splashing against small rocks and a gravel floor, and she relived her journey in her mind. After Fredericksburg, she had gone to Hick’s Hill. There she had found a couple of companies belonging to the Ninth Regiment. She had seen sickness amongst the men – dysentery, she had been told. The conditions in the camp were far worse than anything she had seen up until now. Makeshift graves had been dug for the dead, too weak to fight the sickness. The encampment smelled of putrid waste and brought to mind the Thames River and London’s great stink. Men had lain in their own filth, listless and helpless under the hot sun. God help them, she thought now, for if they were lucky enough to survive, they would have the enemy to look forward to. She thought it fortuitous that Jacob had not been in
that
encampment.

She could not give up her search, she thought. She was not more than fifteen miles north of Richmond, and she felt sure that she was closing in on Jacob. She had missed him by two days at Hicks Hill. A nice sergeant there had informed her that Jacob and his men were on the march behind an infantry brigade heading towards Richmond. He had not specified which road they were taking, but Mercy had been studying this map for weeks, and she was convinced that the major road, called Telegraph Road, would be the most sensible road for an army of men, wagons, and horses to take.

She had to find that road, but it would not be easy. There were dense forests and hilly ground between here and Richmond, and she could easily get lost, as she was apt to do from time to time. She believed she was trailing Jacob, for she had certainly not overtaken him. The ground was thick with mud after three days of heavy rains. The infantry was probably walking at a snail’s pace. This was good news, for she calculated that they couldn’t be more than a couple of hours ahead of her.

Mercy dismounted within the boundary of a thick treeline. She was on elevated ground. She had been aware of shallow inclines a mile back, but she hadn’t realised that she had taken such high ground after skirting a steep and muddy ditch.

She sighed at her stupidity. She had lost valuable time, which would probably mean another night alone in the open, listening to wolves howling and foxes growling. She tied the horse’s reins to a trunk and walked towards the farthest trees on the ridge. Hopefully, she would get a good view of what was beyond this vantage point, she thought, and with a bit of luck, she might even spot the road she was looking for.

She reached a thick tree trunk and stopped. A horse was whinnying in the distance – possibly more than one. She pressed her back against the trunk and held her breath. She exhaled sharply and snuck a peek around the edge of the trunk, first to the left and then to the right of it. There was a flash of blue moving around some distance away. She gasped and looked again. There was no mistaking what she saw. There were at least eight blue coats hunkered down farther up the ridge, intently studying something or someone beyond the hill’s brow. She would like to know what they were so ardently watching, for it could be the very thing she was looking for.

They were only about seventy-five yards from where she hid. She had seen them. Had they spied her? The first surge of panic hit her. Dear God, this was wartime. This was not like Fort Monroe, full of friendly soldiers and dinner parties. This was a battlefield – Virginia was being invaded. What would the Yankees do with her ? They would bloody shoot her, she decided.

She slithered on her belly like a snake to the very edge of the hill, glad of the thick foliage for cover, even though it scraped and cut her arms. When she reached the last trees and the edge of the hill, she looked down and saw an infantry column and cavalry. Grey coats. She had found Jacob at last.

She could hear the column now too. The boots on wet, muddy ground were almost silent, but the horses’ hooves’ thumped like the soft beat of a drum as they hit hard ground underneath the mud. This had to be the column she was looking for. This was Telegraph Road. Why else would poles and wire be lining the route?

She panicked again. One whinny from Coal and the Yankees along the ridge would certainly notice her presence. How could Yankees get so close to Richmond? she wondered.  They must be scouts. They had to be. They didn’t seem to want to attack the strong force of men below, she determined, but they could certainly take away valuable information about Confederate troop movements and weapons. They might even want to destroy the telegraph poles, cutting off the South’s communication with Richmond and the northern towns surrounding it. She had to warn someone. She had to move right now, before the blue coats had a chance to get away or the Confederate column walked on, ignorant of the menace behind them.

She crawled back to Coal, who was happily grazing. She stroked his neck and kept him hushed with soothing whispers, and she included some invigorating prayers to God. There was no easy or direct route down that hill – no way to ride out to its ridge without being seen by the enemy. She pictured the Yankees hearing Coal’s hooves and then seeing her swerving in and out of the trees heading towards the brow of the hill. Her intent would be obvious to them, and their instincts would be to kill her before she reached the column. She was no soldier, but she was sure they wouldn’t want her to give away their position.

No more debating, she thought. Down she must go, regardless of danger and her vision of being shot in the back as she rode. She mounted Coal, clicked her tongue, gripped the reins, kicked the horse’s flanks, and hunched her body across the saddle. “Come on,bo
y
 
…
ride!” she whispered fiercely. The trees danced before her as her head bobbed up and down. Her nose was almost touching Coal’s mane, but every few seconds, she raised it to catch glimpses of the Yankees. She didn’t really want to see a rifle pointed in her direction, but she couldn’t help herself from finding out if she had been seen.

An errant branch pulled Eddie’s hat from her head, leaving it hanging around her neck by the leather strap. The bloody thing was choking the life out of her! She came to the ridge, moaning with the effort that it took to stay in the saddle. As he stumbled onto the hill’s steep incline, she was sure she was going to slip down Coal’s neck. She shuddered with fear, feeling her throat dry and blocked. She was in the open, exposed and in the Yankees’ sights. They must be able to see her, she thought. They might be aiming at her back right at this very moment. She would feel the bullet strike her, and she would fall to the ground and roll down the hill like a barrel.

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 heaven, 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.