Dark Chaos (# 4 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (61 page)

             
She could barely keep herself from jumping up and down when May wheeled, disappeared, and then seconds later walked out bearing plates full of green beans, carrots, peas, okra, and sweet potatoes.  Miles pulled the same disappearing act; then he strutted out with three different kinds of pies. 

             
Still, no one had spoken a word.  They were too busy staring at the table almost groaning under the sudden weight of so much food. 

             
“Merry Christmas!”  Carrie finally cried.  “Merry Christmas!”

             
May and Miles smiled, ducked their heads, then stepped back into the kitchen for their own Christmas feast.

             
Thomas was the first to find his voice.  “Where in the world did all this food come from?”

             
“I brought it back from the plantation,” she explained happily.  “Opal and Sam were determined we would have a good Christmas.  I barely fit it in the wagon with all the herbs, but Opal wouldn’t hear of my leaving without it.”

             
Shaking his head, Robert was still staring at her.  “You will never cease to amaze me,” he murmured lovingly. 

             
Carrie blushed with pleasure then waved her hand over the table.  “I suggest we eat it while it’s still hot.”

             
Laughing and talking, the five of them heaped their plates.

             
It was past dark when Carrie leaned back, groaning.  “I’ve eaten more today than I have in the last two weeks put together.”

             
“I’m in agony,” Dr. Wild agreed with a broad smile.  “I will enjoy every stomach pain I have later.”

             
“I think that’s the best food I’ve ever eaten,” Matron Pember enthused.  “I hope your help received some of this.”

             
“I filled their plates first,” Carrie assured her.  Then she stood to her feet while swaying dramatically.  “If we can stumble our way into the parlor, I think this would be a wonderful time to sing.”  She headed in that direction.  “Matron Pember will play for us.”

             
“Me?”  Matron Pember gasped. 

             
“Yes, you,” Carrie responded calmly.  “Don’t pretend you can’t.  One of the days you sent me into your office, I saw the clipping your sister sent you.  I couldn’t help noticing the headline.  Why didn’t you ever tell me you used to be a concert pianist?”

             
“That was quite a long time ago,” the matron protested.

             
“Not that long ago,” Carrie shot back.  Then she paused.  “Of course, if you think the meal didn’t warrant it...”

             
Robert shouted with laughter.  “Trust my wife to get what she wants - no matter what it takes.”

             
Matron Pember laughed too.  “I’ll not do it for the meal,” she protested.  “I believe that closely resembles blackmail.”

             
Carrie shrugged carelessly.  “Whatever it takes.”

             
“I’ll do it because the idea of sitting in front of a fine piano is a delight I won’t pass up.  I may be a bit rusty.  Y’all will just have to bear with me.”

             
Carrie pulled up a chair next to the fire and listened to the matron play.  If this was rusty, they were in for a bit of heaven when she got warmed up. 

             
Finally Matron Pember swung around.  “I thought we were going to sing,” she accused laughingly.  “I’m not going to just give a concert.”

             
Thomas stepped up to the piano and began to sing, his strong tenor floating through the house.  Seconds later everyone had joined in. 

             
Carrie blinked back tears of happiness as she sang, her arm linked through Robert’s.  They might live in a world wracked by war, but for this one day they had pushed the horror back. 

Matthew was awake long after the rest of the men had gone to sleep.  He was relishing his release from
Rat Dungeon
too much to let go of the delicious sensation.  They had played cards and chess all afternoon, and Matthew had listened eagerly as the men had answered his rapid-fire questions as they caught him up on the world as much as they could. 

             
Captain Anderson rolled over carefully.  “You still awake?” he whispered softly.

             
“Yeah.”

             
“Think you can get out of this line of men without stepping on anyone?”

             
Matthew was curious at the urgency in his friend’s voice.  He stood and eased carefully through the men surrounding him.

             
Moments later he and Anderson huddled at the far back of the room.  They talked quietly for over an hour, glancing at the sleeping men occasionally to make sure no one else was listening. 

             
Matthew was trembling with excitement when he crawled back under his thin blanket.  He didn’t even feel the cold as he hugged the secret Captain Anderson had shared close to him.  If all went well, he would be out of there in little more than a month!

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

              Ignoring the cold blasting his face and inadequately clothed body, Matthew sat next to the window.  He gazed down until he located the street sewer that had inspired Anderson with his plan of escape.  He shook his head admiringly.  The captain was an amazing man.  It was clear that both of them shared the same burning passion to escape and reclaim their freedom. 

             
“It’s almost dark,” Anderson said quietly, strolling up and sitting down.

             
Matthew nodded.  He had been watching the sun for several hours, silently urging it to hurry its course across the sky.  He lived for the night hours now.  It was only when all the prisoners were sleeping that they could engage in their work.  It was simply too risky to let all 1,200 prisoners know of the escape route they were devising.  Secrecy was paramount to the success of their plan.

             
Anderson looked around carefully then leaned closer to Matthew.  “We need help,” he stated flatly.

             
Matthew breathed a sigh of relief.  He had been thinking the same thing but hadn’t thought it was his place to suggest it.  It was, after all, the captain’s escape plan.  “I agree,” he said quietly.  “Peter will keep his mouth shut.”

             
“So will Wilson,” Anderson said confidently. 

             
Quickly they selected fifteen men they believed they could count on to keep the secret.  Anderson nodded quickly and walked away.  Neither man could do anything to arouse suspicion.  Even being seen talking for an extended period of time was sufficient reason to have the guards watch you more closely.

             
Matthew turned back to his window while thinking of what they had accomplished so far.  Anderson had been waiting for him to be released from
Rat Dungeon
.  They had started work the next night, Matthew insisting he was strong enough.  His enforced discipline of exercise in the black hole had paid off.  He was not as strong as before his imprisonment, but he was still capable of keeping up with Anderson.

             
Anderson had waited until everyone was asleep before he had motioned for Matthew to follow him.  Minutes later they had slipped into the kitchen and were standing in front of the fireplace.  “This is it!”  Anderson whispered excitedly.  “If we can put a hole through the brick wall here, it will give us the access we need.”

             
Matthew had looked at it doubtfully but had leapt forward to help him shove one of the stoves away from the fireplace.  Then, using a knife Anderson had managed to acquire - their only tool - they began chipping away at the mortar on the bricks.  Their progress was excruciatingly slow, but neither man complained.   At least they were doing something.  Any activity was better than merely sitting, waiting for fate to deal its hand. 

             
The night before, after six nights of chipping, the hole had been enlarged enough. Anderson had ripped a board from one of the benches and slid it through the hole.  Matthew shuddered as he recalled his horror of dropping down into
Rat Dungeon
.  Amazingly, it was empty now, all the men either released or transferred to other prisons.  He had cringed when the familiar squeal of rats had blasted him but had tightened his lips and helped Anderson decide where the tunnel would begin. 

             
Matthew began to relax as he realized other men would be joining them.  Secrecy was still paramount, but it was encouraging to know others would be helping with the back-breaking work.   It made the beacon of freedom shine brighter. 

             
Peter suddenly appeared in front of him.  “You realize what day this is?”

             
Matthew thought a moment but then shook his head.  His mind was full of nothing but the escape attempt. 

             
“It’s New Year’s Eve,” Peter said, his eyes flicking toward the window.  “Makes me think of all the parties back home.  Man,” he said, shaking his head.  “I’d give anything to get out of this place and line up for a good tongue-lashing by my editor.”

             
“Your chance may come sooner than you think,” Matthew said, dropping his voice to a whisper and looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to them.  Briefly, he explained the plan.  Peter’s face lit with excitement, and he nodded his head enthusiastically.  “Count me in!” he whispered. 

             
New Year’s Eve descended on Richmond with a driving storm of wind, snow, and sleet.  Matthew huddled close to the men stretched out beside him and searched for any body heat available, trying to control the shivers contorting his body.  He longed for the men to fall asleep so the group of conspirators could slip away.  At least he was warm when he was digging. 

             
“Midnight!” the guard rang out in his sing-song voice. 

             
The song started down at the far end of the room, immediately picked up by every man until their voices rang through the night in brave, unified defiance.

             
Oh, say can you see, by the dawn’s early light

             
What so proudly we hailed, at the twilight’s last gleaming.

             
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous night

             
Over ramparts we watched it so gallantly streaming

             
Through the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air

             
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.

             
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave