The Confederate
Page 28
Billy, too, was crying. The young man was unprepared for this. Case had experienced defeat many times and although it hurt him every time, at least he knew what it was like. He hugged Billy and gently guided him over to the wall. The Minié rifle was shown to the Federal officer along with Grant’s exemption order and the officer looked surprised, then nodded and gave both back to Billy who was openly weeping. Case threw his rifle onto the growing pile and along with it went the cartridge case and cross-belts.
Behind him Munz silently followed suit and Furlong came next, wiping his eyes. It was, Case thought, one of the saddest things he had ever experienced. The combined emotion of over twenty thousand men experiencing defeat beat the memory of Yorktown back in 1781. That time he’d been amongst the victors, watching the beaten British surrender. He recalled Shiu Lao Tze’s words of wisdom, spoken to him so many years ago. “Life is a circle.”
Yes, old friend, life is a circle. What goes round will come round again. Case led Billy away along the rutted earth path, past the rows of Union troops and out of the Appomattox Court House settlement. Now they could go home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The three men stood around the little collection of crosses, arranged neatly in a fenced-off plot of land. The fence was new but made up of pieces of wood salvaged from the ruins of the farmhouse a little distance off. The newest grave was clear, marked by the freshly dug earth, and the cross, hammered together out of two broken pieces of planking, was clearly written on. Elizabeth McGuire, born Ireland 1832, died Virginia 1862. R.I.P.
Case replaced his battered Confederate slouch hat and forced his eyes away from the grave of his girl. Another loved one dead, yet I still live. How many more will I put in the ground yet? He squeezed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. The two men standing there replaced their hats and faced Case. Billy Brady and Herman Munz. Former comrades in arms, now just comrades, fellow civilians. “Well, Billy, Herman, it’s time I was gone.”
“Do you have to go?” Billy looked stricken. “There’s a lot of work to do, rebuilding the farm and what have you? You’re welcome to stay and help.”
Case smiled, although it didn’t extend as far as his eyes. “No, Billy, its time I moved on. I’ve been here too long and there’s other places to go, people to see. Besides, I don’t fancy much living here what with what seems an occupying army just down the road in Lynchburg. And I’ve had enough digging up the land!”
Billy made a half amused snort. “Farming not your style?”
“No, I’m a military man, that’s what I’m comfortable with. And there’s too many memories for me here, Billy. Good ones, too, but too many bad ones. Your mom, and poor Liz here,” he nodded at the grave he’d dug, having brought the remains of Liz back from Richmond. It had taken a bit of persuasion, but the help of a priest and a letter from Billy, the next of kin, had finally persuaded the authorities to allow Liz’s remains to be dug up and transported in the coffin Michael White had made especially for that purpose.
“But you’ve always lived here,” Billy protested. “You’re needed here still.”
Case shook his head. “You’ve got Herman here to help rebuild things, and Rosie’ll be along soon from her cousin’s. You getting married soon?”
Billy nodded, his face torn between sadness and joy. “Randolph’s going to fetch her here. He’s going to be studying to become a lawyer in Richmond. A bit far away I know, but that’s the place to be for someone like him. You sure you can’t stay until the wedding?”
“Quite sure. I’ve had enough marching up and down Virginia. For the moment the fighting’s over so it’s time to put down my gun but one day I know I’ll pick it up again.” The wheel of fortune will turn once more and again I’ll answer the call of the gods of war. He grimaced at his thoughts. He shrugged. “I’ve seen you grow into a fine young man. I’ve done my bit, seen that you’ve survived the war, so I kept that promise to your mom. Now its time for you to grow without me. You’ll be okay, and Herman here will be a big help.” He nodded at Munz who nodded back. “But remember that once you stood up for what you thought was right and did your bit. You lost, but that is no disgrace. It’s far worse to do nothing, even though you feel it’s wrong to do so. What will come now the Union has been restored I don’t know, but I suspect grudges won’t be that easily forgotten.”
Munz grunted. “Yup. You got that right.”
“So what’ll you do now?” Billy asked.
Case turned to the west and watched the sun sinking towards the distant mountain tops. “Go out there. West. America will look west once more now they’ve settled this little squabble, and that’s where I’ll go. Hard country, fewer laws. More freedom than what you’ll get here for a while, that’s for sure.” And those bastards in the Brotherhood will find it harder to find me there.
“Well if you ever come back this way, look us up,” Billy said, resigned to Case’s intentions. “You’ll always be welcome. And I won’t forget you. Thanks for everything you’ve done for me.”
Case smiled slowly. “Well, hell, Billy. It was a pleasure. Almost like a son to me, you know. Hard leaving but you’ve gotta stand on your own feet.” He moved up to the two and shook Munz’s hand. “Herman, nice having known you, take care of yourself, you hear? And keep this kid out of trouble!”
“Yup,” Munz shook Case’s hand firmly. “You take care yourself.”
“I always do, Herman.” Case turned to Billy who bit his lower lip. “Billy, I know you’ll make a success of this farm. You proved you have the guts to do something like this to me on more than one occasion. I’m sorry to leave but I have to. You know that.”
Billy nodded, his eyes welling up. “Aw, hell,” he said thickly and wiped his eyes. He held out a hand hesitantly, then Case embraced him and held him for a moment. “Be seeing you, kid,” and he let the young man go and turned away.
He walked along the fields of the farm he’d known for so long one last time, knowing he’d never return, at least in Billy’s lifetime. He turned again once, a few hundred yards away, and saw the two men still standing by the small family cemetery that contained all but one of the McGuires he’d befriended all those years ago on the ship out of Liverpool to New York, and waved. The two men waved back slowly, then Case turned and followed the slopes of the land up towards the distant lines of the Blue Ridge Mountains, leaving behind him yet another part of his life forever.
EPILOGUE
The scenery swooped away and vanished down a long dark corridor and the sound of footsteps boomed and echoed, then faded away. Julius Goldman gasped as the reality of the 21st century flooded into his consciousness and his long, arthritic fingers clawed the edge of the walnut table he was sat at.
Sweat beaded his brow and he opened his eyes, blinking behind the spectacles that were now misting up. He pulled them off and laid them on the tabletop, wiping his eyes and brow with his handkerchief, then looked about the dimly lit study.
Case – or Casey, or even Casca – was gone. Gulping in breath, Goldman stood up shakily, grumbling about his advancing years. “Goddammit, Casey, do your stories have to do this to me?” He stood for a moment until the room stopped spinning and he could stand upright without feeling the need to topple over. His eyes caught the open pages of a Civil War almanac resting on the table and he snorted in dry amusement. “They can’t tell the real story of being there,” he said softly to himself.
A few blocks away a lone figure was walking past the former McCormack Federal Building down Congress Street toward the waterfront, hunched against the biting wind that came in off the sea. His eyes were watering but not from the wind; it was from his memories of the people he’d last seen a century and a half ago. Loneliness gripped his being and no matter how fast he walked, it wouldn’t leave him. How he longed to share a meal again with those rough, unclean, scruffy soldiers he’d once led. But no, they were gone, all gone.
Head down, Casca Rufio Longinus walked the streets of Boston alone, something he wo
uld always be.
Continuing Casca’s adventures, book 28 The Avenger
Casca returns to the city of Constantinople seeking vengeance on the Brotherhood of the Lamb for the deaths of his woman and child, but to reach the man he wants more than any other he must find a way into the inner chambers of the Imperial Court. So he trains as a charioteer to gain imperial favour, but the Eternal Mercenary soon discovers that every success brings new dangers, where intrigue and betrayal lurk hand in hand.
Casca’s quest takes him from the speed and excitement of the Hippodrome to the ravaged war-torn land of Italy, from the sun-baked lands of Persia to the sumptuous luxury of the Empress's bed chamber, where a wrong move or word could spell disaster in his plans to bring down the fanatical
sect. And when he finally confronts the man he has sought to destroy, he finds his powers of strength and immortality are no match for intrigue, double-crossing and imperial protection.
For more information on the entire Casca series see www.casca.net
The Barry Sadler website www.barrysadler.com