“Of course, I will.” Again, she told him what he wanted to hear.
“I have to go,” he sighed again. He paused, looking at her, as if trying to fix her image in his mind.
She knew she should be flattered. Her training had taught her to remain indifferent. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop her from feeling tawdry.
He bent forward, took her by the shoulders and pressed his lips against hers. She allowed it. After all, she’d debased herself thus far, what did another notch matter?
“I’ll say goodbye then,” he released her.
“Take care, Charlie,” she replied sincerely.
***
“He’s in there, isn’t he?” Constance bobbed about in front of Ceci as she made her way down the hall.
“Careful,” she warned, “you’ll have this tray out of my hand.”
“Oh, please. Just one look,” she begged, unable to keep still. “That’s all I ask.”
“I can’t,” Ceci insisted. “I’ll lose my job.”
“No, you won’t,” Constance pouted. “They’ll never even know I’m there. All you have to do, is leave the door ajar, so I can look in.”
“Your father told you not to come down here while he’s entertaining,” Ceci reminded her.
“I’ll only be a minute,” Constance persisted. “Just one peek. Oh, please.”
“All right,” Ceci relented. “When I go in, I’ll hold the door for a minute, then I’m closing it.”
Ceci kept her word, lingering by the open door, as Constance gazed longingly in at the object of her desire, Wade Anders. She began to close the door slowly, aware that the girl was craning her neck for one last look, in danger of getting her nose pinched.
***
“This could be the most decisive engagement of the war, since Antietam,” Josiah Douglas was saying. “If we pull it off.”
“If we pull it off,” Anders replied. “It would shake the pillars of heaven.”
Ceci was just about to set the tray down, when she heard her contact phrase. It dropped from her hands, a quarter inch above the sideboard, making the cups and saucers, on it, rattle conspicuously.
Josiah looked up. “Careful, girl,” he snapped. “That’s the good china.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” she mumbled an apology.
As she poured the coffee, she had to steady the jug with both hands to stop herself from spilling it. When all the cups were full, she paused to compose herself, then passed the tray around. As usual, none of Josiah’s guests spared her the merest glance, all except Anders. He raised his eyes, without moving his head.
When everyone had been served, Ceci left the room. Returning the tray to the kitchen, she went out of the back door and round to the side of the house.
“I’ll be damned,” Josiah broke off in mid-sentence. “Did you hear that?”
The room fell silent, as everyone listened.
“There it is again,” he raised a hand to his ear. “It’s a whippoorwill calling. Well I’m blessed,” he laughed. “It’s the first one I’ve ever heard in Washington. Must be pretty desperate to hang around here.”
A ripple of amusement penetrated the cigar smoke.
“Where’s Mariah with the brandy?” Josiah glanced around.
“No matter,” an artillery captain pointed. “It’s over there, on the sideboard. I guess we’ll just have to serve ourselves.”
“You’ll have to excuse me for a moment, Gentlemen,” Anders rose from his chair. “Call of nature.”
***
Ceci waited pensively in the shadows, shuffling her feet on the stone path, wondering if anyone had heard her. Then Anders came around the corner.
“You almost gave yourself away, in there,” he whispered.
“I didn’t expect my contact to be a Union lieutenant,” she hissed at him.
“My people are from Georgia,” he confided. “My heart is with the South.”
“Yet you wear that uniform,” she pointed suspiciously, backing away, as he approached her.
“Doucet placed agents within the Union army, even before Fort Sumter,” he advised her. “More than one southern sympathiser wears a blue uniform.”
“Then why’d he send me here, when he already had you?” she demanded.
“Different people, different jobs,” he replied simply. “I’m a tactician, not a spy. In this case, I’m merely a messenger, a go between.”
The mere fact that he knew Doucet’s name were credentials enough. “Very well,” she accepted his explanation. “What’s happening. I’ve been hearing all kinds of rumours.”
“Stand close,” he instructed, “I don’t want to be overheard. If anyone comes out, I’ll kiss you. They’ll just think I’ve taken the opportunity to dally with the maid.”
She nodded her understanding, narrowing the gap between them.
“Lee’s on the move,” he informed her. “He’s taken the entire army of Northern Virginia, along the Shenandoah valley, heading north. In response to this threat, the army of the Potomac has mobilised to pursue him,” he continued, without a pause. “Lee’s plan is to lure it out onto open ground, and destroy it, in one decisive battle. Once this has been achieved, a letter, which has already been drafted, will be placed on Lincoln’s desk, offering peace. This could end the war in a week.”
“I sense, you’re not telling me everything,” Ceci deduced from the tone of his voice.
Anders leaned closer, drawing her in, until she could smell the cigar smoke on his breath. “The movements of the Union army are constantly relayed back to the White House,” he continued quickly. “My position in Doucet’s organisation, allows me to know where the Confederate forces are. New information arrived, just over an hour ago, that enabled me to calculate that a large section, at least three corps of the Union army, is much closer to Lee than he realises. He must have scouts out everywhere but, obviously, they have failed to recognise the situation. A premature engagement could be disastrous.”
“Does Doucet know?” she asked anxiously.
Anders nodded. “I telegraphed him straight away. As there is no other form of communication between here and Lee’s position your orders are to ride out and warn him of the impending danger.”
“Why me?” she wanted to know.
Her response clearly surprised him. “I was under the impression that Doucet trained you specifically for this kind of operation.” He glanced back at the house. “I’d say your talents are wasted here.”
“I meant,” she elaborated, “I’m not the only one Doucet trained.”
He took a step back. “You mean, you don’t know?”
“Know what?” she asked.
“Doucet hasn’t told you?” he continued to prevaricate.
“Perhaps you’d be good enough to correct his oversight,” she remarked impatiently, “before the sun comes up.”
“All the Bird spies are dead,” he replied bluntly. “You’re the only one left. You’re the only one with the training to do this job.”
The sudden, overwhelming sense of isolation Ceci experienced on hearing the news would have been the same had she just found herself standing on the moon. “That can’t be right,” she started to say.
Suddenly, Anders grabbed her, forcing his mouth against hers. Over his shoulder she saw Constance standing at the corner. The girl’s smile quickly faded, to be replaced by a look of dismay, before she clamped a hand over her mouth and ran back into the house.
Anders let Ceci go. “Who was that?” he demanded.
“Constance,” she identified her, “The youngest daughter of the house. She must have followed you out. She has a crush on you.”
“Not any longer,” he grunted. “We must hurry.”
“What do I have to do?” she asked, realising she
would have to mourn her comrades later.
“You leave tonight,” he informed her. “There’s a fast horse tethered beyond that gate,” he pointed. “Follow the Union army until you’re outside of Washington. Then strike out alone. When you reach the Confederate lines, give your call sign. Doucet anticipated such an eventuality. We have men in every regiment, with orders to respond to any of the Bird spies. They’ll take you directly to General Lee. Once you’ve delivered your information, remain with the army. Doucet will contact you with further instructions.”
“Where’s Lee, now?” she asked.
“He crossed the border into Pennsylvania, two days ago,” Anders pulled a folded map from inside his jacket. “His men are foraging for supplies in a small town, barely eighty miles from here. The positions of both armies, as well as the route you will take, are marked on the map.”
“It’s too dark to see,” she squinted. What’s the name of the town?”
Judging by his reaction, it couldn’t have been of much strategic importance. He had to think for a moment, before it came to him. “Gettysburg.”
Chapter Twenty Four
“I’ll need a few minutes to prepare,” she told him. “Will you wait here and keep watch?”
Anders nodded his consent. “Hurry,” he urged.
Ceci returned to her room, her mind racing, filled with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. This was what she’d been waiting for. A chance to strike a blow, to avenge her dead family but, after all she’d seen and heard, her motives had changed. If she could warn Lee in time, and help end this war in a week, it was well worth any risk she had to face. She was only sorry that the rest of the Bird spies wouldn’t be there to see it. Then again, if things didn’t go according to plan, she might very soon be joining them.
Unlocking the cabinet, she pulled out the carpet bag and threw it on the bed. Tearing off her clothes, she bound her breasts with strips of linen and dressed in the Union uniform. Lastly, she strapped on the pistol, took the satchel containing the compass, maps and code books from the carpet bag and looped it over her shoulder. Everything else she packed in the bag she’d brought from Louisiana. No matter what happened, she wouldn’t be coming back.
Her final act was to scribble a brief note to Florina. She’d been treated kindly here. She felt she owed her that much. She wrote that her mother had been taken seriously ill, and that she’d had to leave immediately. It didn’t matter whether she believed her or not. Thanks to Constance’s testimony, they’d probably think she’d run off with Anders. Either way, her duty was clear. To put an end to this war. So that Frank and Trent, and all the other men, could go home to their wives and sweethearts.
Anders started in surprise when she returned. “Very impressive,” he approved. “I’d take you for a soldier, any day.”
“In here are all the things I have to leave behind,” she offered him the bag. “Will you see that Enola Sykes disposes of it.”
“I’ve been ordered to stay here with the garrison,” Anders volunteered, as they started towards the gate. “So, I doubt that we will meet again.” He offered her his hand. “Good luck.”
Ceci shook it, then mounted the horse. Anders stood back and saluted. All her training, that had lain dormant these many months, took over. She reacted instinctively and returned it.
***
Ceci rode all night, following in the wake of the departing regiments. Being surrounded by enemy soldiers, with a Confederate uniform and code books in her satchel, made her feel like she was sitting on a powder keg. She could always fall back on the dress. If she found herself threatened, she had the advantage of transforming herself back into a woman, and throw any would-be pursuer off her scent. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She recalled Doucet’s words, ‘Use your head and keep your nerve.’ They endowed her with a confidence she’d never known before. In a perverse way, she actually found the danger exhilarating.
As the sun began to rise, she slipped away from the Federal column and set out across country. Riding hard, she made good time until the horse went lame. She unsaddled it and turned it loose, taking her canteen and saddlebags with her. It was an infernal piece of bad luck, leaving her with no choice but to continue on foot.
She pressed on through the day, traversing woods, fording rivers, rarely pausing to rest or eat. She desperately had to make up the time the lost horse had cost her. By mid-afternoon, she began to hear distant cannon fire. It sounded like thunder, far away. Both armies were strung out for miles, on either side of her, with pockets of men milling about everywhere. She hoped that what she heard was only a minor skirmish.
She hurried on, through the night, without food or sleep. There had been times, on the island, when she’d wondered why Doucet’s training had been so rigorous. Now, she understood. Here, everything she’d learned, came into its own. She carried on, pushing herself to the limits of her endurance, the fate of the Confederacy in her hands.
By the morning of the second day, she just had to stop. Too exhausted to go on, she found some high ground, with plenty of cover, and crawled into it. Taking the binoculars from her saddlebag, she began to scan the terrain. To the north, she could see vast numbers of Confederate troops, marching in columns, batteries of artillery and supply wagons, all moving in roughly the same direction. The cannon fire had fallen silent during the night, now it resumed. It was much closer. By the sound of it, a major battle was in progress. The thought that she might be too late, spurred her on. She clambered to her feet, every muscle complaining, changed uniforms, and set off in the direction the Confederate troops were taking, following the sound of the gunfire.
As dusk began to fall, she found herself in a thicket on the edge of open fields and farmland. The stench of spent gunpowder and rifle smoke stung her nostrils, making her eyes water. She stepped out of the thicket and stood, staring open mouthed, tears trickling down her travel-stained cheeks, at thousands of bodies that littered the ground, for as far as the eye could see. In the half-light it was impossible to tell if they wore blue or grey. She could hear the moans of wounded men all around her. Some begged for life, others prayed for death. All thought that God had abandoned them on that day. Ceci pulled off her cap and bowed her head. It wasn’t only the flower of the South, she saw dying here. It was the soul of a nation, torn and bleeding, that lay at her feet.
She was just about to move on, when she heard the sound of hooves approaching.
Retreating to the cover of the thicket, she crouched down and waited. A troop of Union cavalry began to ride past, the lead horse well in front of the main body, a white ribbon fluttering from its bridle. Ceci stared aghast, wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her. She hadn’t slept for three days. Was the fatigue she suffered making her mind see what it wanted to see? Even as she looked, a musket shot rang out. The horse reared, throwing its rider to the ground. “No,” she screamed, surging to her feet. Careless of her own safety, she broke cover and dashed towards the motionless body.
***
Trent was lucky. The Confederate musket ball that was intended to kill him merely grazed his brow. He lurched violently back in his saddle. His horse reared wildly, throwing him, unconscious to the ground, directly into the path of his own cavalry advancing only yards behind him.
At the far end of the field, Sergeant Nathanial Pike and his men, engaged in the hasty formation of a skirmish line, watched helplessly as the scene unfolded. As Trent hit the ground, a Confederate soldier appeared out of the shadows. Small and slight, little more than a boy, he lunged forwards, grabbed the officer by the lapels of his coat and dragged him out of the path of the galloping horses. Throwing himself across the man’s prone body, he shielded him from the pounding hooves. The cavalry thundered past oblivious, in the half-light, to the fate of their captain.
As the danger passed, the rebel rose to his knees and appeared to search the unconscious man.
“God damn thieving rebs,” Pike snatched his pistol from its holster, his thumb wrenching back the hammer. Before he could take aim, the rebel stopped searching. He leaned forwards and, cradling the officer’s face in his hands, bent down and kissed him, full on the lips, long and hard. Pike’s pistol, arm and jaw dropped simultaneously.
Something, some noise, some movement, made the rebel look up and glance furtively around. He jumped to his feet and, with a final backwards glance at the fallen man, melted into the shadows, like a wraith.
It was some moments before Pike’s jaw snapped shut, his teeth meeting with an audible click. He rounded on his men. “Did you see what I just saw?” he demanded.
His question was answered with shrugs and scowls. Not one man there could swear he hadn’t dreamed it. Then suddenly, they heard it, far off, plaintive and eerie, the cry of a whippoorwill.
***
Apart from a thin gash on his brow, Trent didn’t appear to be badly hurt. He was already regaining consciousness. Ceci might have risked everything to stay there with him, but she’d noticed some stretcher bearers moving up the field towards them. Trent would soon be in good hands, and it would profit neither of them if she were captured here. Reluctantly, and with a last backwards glance, she left him, to seek the relative safety of the Confederate lines.
She moved softly through the shadows, the taste of his lips lingering on hers, haunted by the sight of him lying there, pausing now and then to utter her call sign. Eventually, she heard a horse moving slowly through the undergrowth. She hid behind a tree and watched. A Confederate cavalry lieutenant rode out of the woods, pistol at the ready. He appeared to be looking for something, or someone. They were both wearing the same uniform. Ceci took a chance and stepped out into the open. He reined his horse to a standstill and studied her for a moment. “I thought I heard a whippoorwill,” he spoke at last.
Whippoorwill Page 22