The Titans (29 page)

for the town." "An accusing conscience." "Yes. As I said, only one person befriended him publicly. Colonel Tom Fool Jackson. Then Papa got involved with the Underground Railroad. He helped one of Captain Tunworth's nigra wenches escape, and fled to the North to live with his father's cousin. Mrs. Kent-I've mentioned her, haven't I?" "The wealthy woman. Yes. Go on." "She started the paper Papa works for now. She piled up a lot of money out West, too," He described the California gold properties and revealed something new The Titans399 about them-he and his brothers would receive the income when Jephtha Kent died. "Back in Lexington, Mama also charged Papa with defrauding us by putting control of the mines in Mrs. Kent's hands. She's spoken of regretting that, too. But Edward still thinks my father would like to see Matt and Jeremiah and me disinherited." "Would he disinherit you?" "I never believed so, until that night in the hotel. Papa actually said Edward was scheming to kill him so he could control the money. What rubbish! If hell say that, he's capable of anything. There were years after Papa was gone when I wished he were with us. I was an idiot. He's a maniac. I never want to set eyes on him again." Gideon's voice shook. So did his hands. He laced his fingers together to control the tremors. Margaret stroked his arm. She felt tremors there, too. She'd never realized how much the tangled relationship with his father tormented him. All at once Gideon mourn set "Enough from me. That's the end of the story." He jumped up. "Come on. I'm starved. While we eat, maybe you'll explain how you got me to blab so much. I've never told half of that to anyone else." He touched her hair as she rose from the rock. "You also mentioned you had something to say-was A gangling Texan no older than Gideon came strolling along the path, a young belle in rustling crinolines on each arm. The Texas boy gave Gideon a grave nod of greeting-soldier to soldier-and passed on. "I don't want to wait for supper," she said. "I've got to speak now. You'll think I'm presumptuous, probably. Foolish. But-was "Nothing you say could be foolish, Margaret" He bent nearer, pink-faced. "Nothing." 400The Amateur Cavalier MI don't want you to go." "Sunday?" "Yes." He reacted with disbelief, not anger: "Well, that's not exactly a secret" He laughed. "I guess once in a while, you might say something foolish-was "Gideon-was Her hand constricted on his arm. "You don't know what it'll be like! You think it'll be wonderful-was "You're damn right. It'll be a privilege and a pleasure to meet up with some Yanks." "It'll be a disaster! The South's not equipped to fight a war. You've seen our troops. Boys. Amateurs." "Now just a damn minute-I" "I'm sorry, it's true." "Amateur or not, we'll have the Yanks whipped in ninety days." "Don't you think they're saying the same thing in Washington? The difference is, Lincoln's got hundreds of thousands of men to conscript if he wants to-was Her voice grew shriller. "How can you be so blind to the truth? Look at your own captain. A yard goods merchant!" "With military experience." "Years ago!" "We're going to have a hell of a fine commander at Harper's Ferry. A Virginian from Patrick County. James Ewell Brown Stuart. Jeb, they call him. He doesn't lack experience. He resigned from a captaincy in the First Cavalry-one of the best units in the Federal army. He brought his family home from the West and went straight to Lee-was They were walking again, Gideon more animated; trying to use enthusiasm to overcome her hostility: "Lee thinks highly of him. Stuart happened to be on leave in Washington in "59. He went with Lee to catch The Titansbledja old Ossawatomie Brown. Stuart's been in Arkansas, the Kansas territory-he's fought the meanest Indians on the Plains, the Cheyenne-they say he's a hell of a scrapper. I'm told he sings a lot, too. I'd follow him to perdition if he's a singer. He's at Harper's Ferry right now, starting to whip the state cavalry into shape- Margaret." "What?" "Don't look so blasted glum! Your theory about amateurs is all wrong. I couldn't ask for a better commander than Stuart Why, the top men in the Federal service were all attached to the First or Second cavalry regiments. Joe Johnston was lieutenant colonel in the First, Bob Lee in the Second under Albert Sidney Johnston. Hardee and George Thomas and Hood and that Union dandy, McClellan-the list's a quarter mile long! And we've got the pick of the lot!" She shook her head. "You just won't-was "Stuart's young. Twenty-eight or so. But he's smart A West Pointer." "Gideon!" Her ferocity checked his rush of words. "I don't care how clever he is-or how well he's been trained. He can still get you killed" "Why, yes," Gideon answered calmly. "But I accepted that risk." "I don't accept it I couldn't stand it! Gideon, I-I love you." Stunned silence. Awed, he whispered, "Glory be to God." A shout: "Hallelujah, I've been wanting to say the same thing, but I was too damn scared." Laughing and crying at the same time, she flung herself against him, clasping him tight She experienced a soaring moment of release and joy: "I don't care if every righteous lady in Richmond 402The Amateur Cavalier calls me a tart for coming right out with it-was She drew back. "I love you and I won't see you hurt." "Glory be to God," he repeated-and let out a whoop that turned heads in the blue shadows further down the towpath. He grabbed her waist, hugging her so tightly her breasts hurt, a lovely pain. He scooped her up and whirled her. She gasped as he set her on the ground, looked at her tenderly a moment, then kissed her. She put her arms around his neck, without shame. Pressed against him, she could feel the hardness of his wanting. It frightened and thrilled her. She let her lips open just a little. For one abandoned moment, she caressed his tongue with hers, praying he wouldn't think her a harlot- His mouth tasted of tangy clove. He must have been chewing one to freshen his breath on the walk from the Fair Grounds. How funny and sad and unbearably sweet- They broke apart. She fussed with her bonnet to hide her embarrassment over the way she'd embraced him; the way she'd wanted more of him than was proper- She had to discover his reaction: "I expect I've acted like a fast woman-was "Let anybody say that and I'll bust his eye!" He squeezed her hand. "Lord, Margaret! All the way over here, I kept wondering if I could work up nerve by Sunday to tell you how I felt I knew I couldn't work up nerve tonight-was His mood changed again; he was no longer the exuberant soldier bragging about his new commanding officer, but boyish; uncertain. He chafed her hands with almost comical haste: "We really should talk." Gravely: "Yes." "I mean about your-doing me the honor of- becoming my wife as soon as the fighting's done." The Titansbledjc She thought she might faint. But she didn't-because of one word. One detestable word. Fighting. "I would, Gideon-was "Oh, my Godl" he bellowed, doing a foolish little jig on the path. He lunged for her waist to give her another whM. "comexcept-was She fended him off. Startled, he withdrew his hands. "Except what?" She had to say it: "I don't want to promise myself to a man who may not come home to me." "Why, honey, I'll be back from Harper's Ferry in no time. We-was "Gideon, listen. You're as crazy as that father of yours if you think you're going on a holiday." To blunt her savagery, he tried to tease: "It will be a holiday, because you'll be waiting for-was "Gideon, if you care for me-was "I do! IV-EVERY told you!" "Then you must pay attention to what I'm saying. I saw one man go off just like you. A man I loved-was Jealously: "Whatman?" "My father." "I didn't know anything about-I mean, you never mentioned-was Chagrined, he rubbed his cheek. "I thought he must be dead." "No. He lives with Aunt Eliza and me." She was desperate now. Vulnerable because she'd revealed how she felt. He wouldn't leave Captain Ma- comb's troop. But at least she might save his life by opening his eyes to the reality of what was waiting in some far, unseen place where the gay uniforms would grow stained with dirt and gore- "He went to war too," she said. "The Mexican war. 404The Amateur Cavalier He came home, but it might have been better if he hadn't-was High up on Gamble's Hill, the tops of the tallest maples burned in the setting sun. A cardinal flew from a branch; caught'the sunlight; red as blood. The bird dipped, lost among the shadows of the leaves stirring in the May wind. She knew the extent of the risk she was contemplating. But there was no other way to open his eyes. She took his hand: "I don't want to eat supper." "But I thought we'd talk about-was "No," she said, tugging him along the path. He reached down to grab the shako that had fallen unnoticed. It took all the courage she possessed to say the rest: "I Want you to come out to where we live In Rock- ett's. I want you to see my father." CHAPTER I'll The Tigers MARGARET LEFT GIDEON in front of the Spots wood: "You have a bite to eat I'm not the least bit hungry. I'll go along to the shop and leave a note for Aunt Eliza. She worries about me traveling home alone." Gideon knew he should insist on accompanying her. Even though the distance was short, the walks were still packed with soldiers, as well as with representatives of less respectable professions who emerged after dark. But his stomach was growling. "All right. I'll meet you here in ten minutes." Besides food, he wanted a stiff drink and a little time to himself. He stayed outside the Spotswood until she disappeared in the crowds eddying back and forth in the glow of the gas lamps. As he turned to go into the hotel, a ragged black boy stopped him. Grinning, the boy informed him that the finest fleshy entertainments in Richmond could be obtained at a certain address in Ram Cat Alley. "Son, I've got the best girl in the whole damn town. Skedaddle!" He entered the immaculate, marble-floored lobby, passing beneath ornate gas fixtures of polished brass. He was only marginally aware of a white-coated Negro clanging out three strokes on the dinner gong. He was confused by his own state of mind. He should

406The Tigers have been elated. To an extent he was. At last, he'd managed to articulate the feelings for Margaret that shyness and inexperience had kept locked inside him since not long after their first meeting. But the relationship was marred by her stubborn resistance to the war, and his role in it. The resistance had cropped up before. Only tonight had he gotten a due as to its cause. That Margaret's father was living had come as a total surprise. He knew she'd been born in Kentucky; had moved'from a failing farm to live with her aunt more than ten years ago. But he'd always imagined she was an orphan. The prospect of meeting her father out in Roclcett's put him on edge. Margaret evidently hoped me encounter would reinforce her views about fighting. He loved her, but she couldn't change his mind about certain things. The trip to Rocketf s would probably do nothing but cause trouble. He shouldered into the noisy, smoky saloon bar. The place was packed with men in civilian dress and uniforms of every description. One man's face bore a slight resemblance to his father's. He still saw Jephtha Kent in nightmares, his eyes full of pain and bewilderment as he waited for the gutta- percha cane to slash down. Gideon hadn't been wholly truthful with Margaret on one point No matter how Jephtha had slandered Fan Lamont, he was still the man who'd given life to his sons. It was impossible for Gideon to hate him without guilt and an occasional twinge of sorrow. Because of his height and obvious strength, he had little trouble forcing his way up to the polished bar. He squeezed in beside a fast-talking man in a cream- colored frock coat The man was promising a couple of wide-eyed Georgia captains that the stakes were modest at a certain faro bank to which he could lead them. The The Titansbledjg captains would emerge big winners. They took the lure and followed the gambler out of the bar. The barkeep approached. "Eat or drink?" "Both. Haven't got much time, though. Throw a few slabs of that ham on white bread." The bartender pro.ceeded to put the sandwich together, then slid the platej across the mahogany. "What's your pleasure for drinking?" "Applejack." Gideon fished out a Richmond Corporation note. The bartender reached down. Gideon leaned over and caught his arm. "I don't mean the hard cider you sell to youngsters who can't tell the difference." The barkeep noted Gideon's size and the unblinking severity of his blue eyes. He admitted his guilt with a grin: "Yes, sir. You ain't exactly a graybeard yourself." "But I've been in Richmond long enough to know about gouging. As long as you're going to charge me for it, I want the real goods." "Coming up." Shortly, Gideon had a glass of the biting liquid from the unfrozen heart of a hard-cider barrel set out to ice over the winter. The applejack refreshed him after several mouthfuls of coarse bread and salty country ham. His belly grew comfortably warm. But his apprehension lingered. Margaret's father had to be the one responsible for her hatred of the war. He knew she wasn't entirely in disagreement with the principles for which the South was fighting. "comdon't give a hang what the Ape says. Hell wind up interfering with the slave trade, mark my word. All the radicals are pushing him." The overheard remark came from one of three prosperously dressed men immediately to his left. The 408The Tigers speaker opened the pages of a paper whose masthead Gideon recognized at once. The New York Union. He wasn't surprised to see it Dozens of Northern papers found their way to Richmond. Captain Macomb said General Lee had an aide who did nothing but read the Tribune, the Times, the Union and the sheets published in Washington City. The newspapers generously reported every shift of Federal policy and every major troop movement-numbers of men, their armament, everything. They're doing it already," the man with the paper went on. He quoted in a cynical tone: "coms let me tell the gentlemen of the South that although the abolition of slavery is not an object of the war-was Guffaws. "comthey mayt in their mpdness and folly and treason-was Oaths from both listeners. "commake the abolition of slavery one of the results of this war." One of the men snorted. "What Republican fuckhead said that?" "Senator Henry Lane of Indiana." "When our boys meet up with the Yanks, they'll show them who's going to abolish what The only thing abolished will be the Ape's army!" The man beside Gideon nudged him, as if for endorsement Gideon smiled and raised his glass and nodded. The trio rendered a few opinions on the parentage and sexual habits of Senator Lane and those who'd printed his statement Gideon shoved his glass across the bar. "Another one." What if the gentlemen knew they were standing beside someone with ties to that very newspaper? He supposed there'd never been such a strange war in all of human history. The Titansbledji His next drink reminded him of something else. Alcohol comor the probable absence of same up at Harper's Ferry. He'd been informed James E. B. Stuart was a devout Episcopalian and a total abstainer. He'd heard too many good things about Stuart to be much concerned about his piety. But others might complain. He hoped to do well when Stuart led the cavalry into battle. He wanted to offer his mother some reason to be proud of him. He knew he'd been a disappointment to her so far. He was wholly uninterested in book learning. His term at Washington College had been a catastrophe. About the only things he honestly enjoyed were hunting, fishing or galloping the roads and meadows around Lexington on one of Grandpa Virgil's horses. That was one reason he thanked the Almighty the war had come. He'd finally found something to which he could give himself with unstinting enthusiasm. If only Margaret could be proud of him, too- Dammit, he'd make her proud! He checked the back-bar clock. He still had a couple of minutes. He asked for a third applejack to brace himself for what could be a pretty grim evening. More opinions and predictions kept spouting from groups waiting for an opening at the bar: "comold Telegraph Morse is sympathetic-was "Hell, he's a Yankl" "But he stands with the South. He thinks we were foolish to fire on Sumter, though. Says it's made it impossible for Northerners who want peace to exert any influence in Washington-was "comwant a job, Simeon? There's still a card in the Enquirer. The Louisiana State Military Academy's hunting for a superintendent Some Northerner named Sherman resigned the post-was "comthe paper says the prize in the Royal Havana Lottery's up to half a million dollars-was 410The Tigers "comno more Federal mail service in the Confederacy come the end of the month-was "Godamighty! My poor mother's ailing in Wisconsin. How'll I find out whether she's recovered?" "comthe Little Giant's down with the typhoid out in Illinois-was "Well, I hope "he pulls out of it. Yankee Democrat or not, he was a friend of ours for a long, long time. How old is he?" "Forty-eight, forty-nine-but I saw him up in Washington in March and he looked sixty. Sick. Pasty. A worn-out bulldog." "If any man could have saved this country, he-was "It isn't this country, Neville. It's two countries now. Besides, it's too late. He's dying." Conversation to his right caught his attention. He couldn't see the man immediately next to him. The fellow had his back turned. But over the man's shoulder, he spied a small, nervous chap whose frock coat bore stains on the lapels and whose hair looked as if it hadn't met up with a comb in weeks. The man was squinting at his companion as he said: "You can take everything Jeff Davis says and discount it about fifty percent. I mean all that garbage about how we'll mince the Yanks in ninety days because our boys are going to war with fire in their bellies." The man beside Gideon grumbled, "Whose side are you on, Josiah?" "That's a stupid question. I'm being realistic. All that fire in the belly talk isn't worth a pig's ass if we haven't got decent factories or railroads." "The crop surpluses will finance those." "Oh, will they? We sure as hell can't sell cotton up North any longer. Davis won't sell it to Europe either. And may I remind you which ships used to carry our cotton and tobacco and sugar? Ships owned by Yankees! Think they're going to come steaming up the James The Titansbledaa to do business as usual? I tell you Davis is totally wrong! Fire in the belly's no good without money" For emphasis, the ferret-faced man slammed his shot glass on the bar. He lowered his voice, but Gideon could still hear: "And if the government can't raise enough-which it can't-then the private citizen has to help. Using any means available, fair or foul." "Hell, there's nothing you can do about it" "No? You'd be surprised if you knew-was Abruptly he noticed Gideon listening. He signaled his friend with a glance. The two huddled closer together, elbows on the bar. Gideon missed the rest of the conversation; no tragedy. Obviously the South had partisans of all kinds. But he didn't like the attitude of that pale little weasel doing most of the talking. A glance at the clock made him start. Fifteen minutes had gone by. He drained his drink and rushed for the lobby. Outside the hotel, he jerked up short. Turned to the left, then the right. His head felt light from the three fast applejacks. He should have been able to spot the golden dress easily. The crowds had thinned a little now that it was fully dark. The more timid had retired to their homes, leaving the walks to the soldiers, the sharps, the black urchins pimping for the whore's cribs. He didn't see Margaret anywhere. Worried, he began to walk quickly toward the dress shop. He passed the gilt-leafed doors of a gambling palace. Inside, dim figures moved in a sulphurous light He walked faster. His head was clearing. The night air dried the sweat on his cheeks and palms. 412The Tigers He reached the corner. A horse-drawn omnibus came clattering along Ninth from one of the depots. He ran around behind it, his left boot flattening a turd. He ignored the stink as he scanned the brick walk down by La Mode. The area was dim because the shop stood midway between two gas lamps. He thought he spied men clustered around the shop's entrance, though. Two men. No, three- A few more long strides and he identified the men's clothing. Zouave uniforms. The man nearest him had his right hand against the building. He was talking to his companions-or someone else. Gideon began to run. Those were New Orleans Tiger Zouaves. The worst riffraff on the streets- A pedestrian tried to push by the men. One shoved back. Gideon heard a voice ask the intimidated pedestrian for help. The voice was Margaret's. He ran faster. His shako fell off. He was dead sober. His boots hammered the bricks as he passed through the glow of one of the gaslights. The Zouaves saw him coming. "Watch it, Hall," one said. Gideon dashed around the white-faced pedestrian who'd been pushed off the walk. The man addressed as Hall stepped away from the building. Only half a dozen store fronts separated Gideon from the trio now. He saw Margaret trapped among them, the very instant he realized he had no weapon. The Zouave named Hall peered at him. The man's face was blotched with warts. He slipped his hand under his vest Taking advantage of the diversion, Margaret tried to dash away. Another Zouave caught her; slapped her face; laughed: The Titansbledac "Hold on, Miss Pretty-tits. We ain't done with you yet" Gideon stopped under the gaslight nearest the shop. He was aware of a couple of people watching across Main Street A gambler lounged outside his establishment down at the end of the block. He'd get no assistance from either source, he suspected. Nor did he see any Blind Pigs-the guards assigned to patrol Capitol Square; lately they'd expanded their rounds to include major thoroughfares. But a Blind Pig wouldn't be much help either. All were elderly; some, tottering veterans of 1812. So it was up to him. He started forward again. Margaret cried out: "Stay back, Gideon! They're all armed-was "Get away from her!" he shouted. "Why, looka this!" the wart-chinned Hall snickered, weaving a step in his direction. "A sojer boy. Dressed up damn near as fancy as the girl!" "Gideon, be careful!" Margaret was still struggling. But she couldn't free herself from her captor. "Shit, he ain't gonna interfere," Hall grinned. Even at a distance, Gideon smelled the rum on the man. "If he tries-was Hall's hand slid from under his vest "comwe'll just chop his balls off." Margaret lunged again. The second Zouave caught the point of her chin, shoved her head against the shop's wall. Gideon heard the thump. Red-faced, he charged straight at Hall. The Zouave stood spraddle-legged, his knife pointed at Gideon's belly. 414The Tigers There was anger in Gideon Kent; the uncontrollable anger of which his mother often spoke with weary concern. He launched himself into a long leap. Hall yelled: "Crazy son of a bitch-to " He jumped back, stumbling into his friends as Gideon caught his knife arm and bent it at the wrist Bone popped. Hall shrieked. Gideon didn't get a firm footing as he landed. He fell on top of Hall. The Zouave dropped the knife. Kneeling on Hall's chest, Gideon seized his ears, raised his head, bashed it down on the bricks. Then again- Hall howled on the first crunch; fainted on the second. There was commotion inside the shop. Lamps bobbing. Two or three young women hurrying through the darkened front section- Gideon leaped up, still shaken from the fall on top of the wart-faced Zouave. He wiped sweat from his forehead, aware of the other two moving at him. They fumbled for concealed weapons. The shop door opened. Three girls screamed and jabbered. Margaret got free, darting toward him. The second Zouave kicked her. She stumbled. He yanked her out of the way, mouthing filthy words as he lunged at Gideon, his right arm extended at shoulder level In his fist, a knife. Gideon twisted sideways to narrow the target The knife raked the left side of his face. He felt pain; the warmth and wetness of blood. He rammed a fist into the Zouave's stomach. The man doubled, then tried to grapple Gideon around the waist The dragging weight threw him off balance- left his face exposed again as metal came streaking out The Titansbledae of the shadows. Sharp-edged knuckle-dusters on the hand of the third Zouave- The knuckle-dusters damn near tore his head off. He staggered. Still on his knees, the second Zouave gut- punched him twice. The punches were clumsy but powerful. Gideon reeled into the street, landed on his back, the wind knocked out of him. Blinking, he rolled over. Tried to push up. His arms seemed to be made of jelly. A hack came flying around the corner of Ninth, thundering toward the spot where Gideon floundered. Margaret screamed. A chaos of overlapping sounds then. The grinding wheels. The rattling