by Simon Rumney
Julii could see that Count Anton still felt truly guilty for suggesting she may have told an untruth. It felt cruel to leave him in such a state, so she leaned across the gap between the seats, smiled, lifted his hand, kissed it warmly and held it to her damp cheek. It was a clear, sincere, and unmistakable act of forgiveness and Count Anton knew that he had been pardoned without reserve.
In an awe-filled voice he repeated the strange words, "He was right. You are very intelligent."
Julii kept her eyes fixed on Count Anton's hand. 'There it was again.' 'What did he mean when he said the words, “he was right”? 'Who was right?' 'Had she missed something?'
Julii held her nerve long enough to let Count Anton speak first. He gently touched her hair with his free hand like her father and mother touched her hair. It made her feel safe as he said: "Until such times as it is possible to return you to your home, past the Yankees and those barbarians in Atlanta you will stay with me in Savannah. You will be my guest and I will care for you and feed you. Will you be my guest, Julii?"
Julii believed that there was only one possible answer to such a wonderful question. "Si."
“Si” must have been the right answer because Anton laughed out loud and said, "Excellent, my dear girl. Excellent."
“Excellent” was another very good new word and this time Julii felt like repeating it out loud. "Excellent... Excellent."
Why white men kill
As with all new things, the once exhilarating carriage ride had soon become unremarkable for Julii. After many hours of traveling, the excitement of being high up and moving fast were no longer providing waves of pleasure. The sound of the horses, which had been so loud as they galloped from Atlanta, was no longer noticed. The exciting countryside rushing past the window had become the same.
She would have liked to use the time to learn more new words, but Count Anton had been rocked off to sleep by the ever-predictable motion of the carriage. With nothing new to occupy her mind, thoughts of Robert began creeping in and, much to Julii's horror, these thoughts brought pain rushing in with them.
It was not treatable pain like the pain caused by an injury or a bee sting or a pig's tusk; this pain ran invisibly all through her head and body. This pain was everywhere and it had appeared from absolutely nowhere.
Julii did not know it, but for as long as her life was in danger and hunger occupied her mind, all memories of her Robert's murder had been consigned to a deep hiding place. Now that her life was no longer threatened and her belly was full, thoughts of her loss were being allowed to come flooding back.
Instinctively, Julii knew that she must do something to block these memories out before they completely consumed, overwhelmed, and swallowed her up. She told herself to 'think of something new!' 'Think of home!' But the thoughts of home that came to distract Julii's troubled mind did not help because of the realization: 'she had caused exactly the same pain within her dear and lifelong friend Ringwind!' 'Could she really have been so callous and cruel?'
Fighting back tears, Julii urgently needed to learn new words. She desperately needed to get her thoughts away from the terrible agony of losing Robert and hurting Ringwind. She made the tapping of her foot on Count Anton's foot appear coincidental, and she kept the 'coincidence' going until he woke up.
Before he had time to think about what caused him to wake, Julii set upon him with the first of her planned quick-fire questions. "The ammunition you give the general kills Yankees, doesn't it?"
Much to Julii's surprise, Count Anton's reply sounded defensive. He even looked away as he said, "The ethical questions raised by my work are many and always ongoing, Julii my dear. It is a topic that has been discussed and argued by philosophers throughout the ages."
Julii had been expecting the simple answer “yes” to her first question. She had asked it because she simply wanted to get that perfunctory point established. Once he had said “yes”, she could go onto ask a series of further questions. These questions would teach her new words that would distract her mind and make her feel less wretched, but his somber and unnecessarily-extended answer now stood annoyingly in her way like a felled tree across a road. She had no option but to ask, "Did my question offend you in some way?"
Count Anton looked at Julii's confused expression and smiled apologetically. "Please forgive me, Julii. I do believe my ill unconscious has lead me to answer a question you did not ask."
"It did?"
Julii was genuinely lost as she heard Count Anton add, "But, please do go on, my dear. I can only imagine how many questions you need answered."
This was a good thing for Julii to hear. Count Anton had given his permission to ask questions. Still a little confused by his first answer, but seeing a chance to take her thoughts away from Robert, she said: "You must make good ammunition because the man called General was afraid of losing it."
Count Anton smiled his approval. "You are half right, my dear. You see, I do not manufacturer ammunition, but I am by far the general's largest supplier."
This was a wonderful development. 'She could not be expected to know about such complex and unusual things.' 'There was no risk of being thought a fool.' 'If she was to understand the rest of the conversation, she had to ask…’ "What is ‘manufacturer’?"
Count Anton engaged Julii's eyes with his own and confirmed her thinking with the wonderful words, "That is a very good question, my dear."
Then he added: "Manufacturers make things. There are several different weapons manufacturers, in a place called Europe, who make rifles and mini-balls and gunpowder and cannons. I purchase those things and sell them to the general. I am what is called a ‘middle man’. Do you see, Julii?"
Made confident by his respectful response, Julii nodded her head 'yes' and asked another question. "Can the general not purchase directly from those 'manufacturers'?"
Count Anton’s face lit up a smile that boosted Julii's confidence. His expression was a combination of impressed and proud. His reply came through vigorous 'nods' of agreement. "And in no time you have hit the age-old nub directly on the head, my dear. You are without any shadow of a doubt exactly as he said you would be."
Without giving Julii time to ask who “he” was, Count Anton smiled again and added, "My family has thrived for nearly two thousand years because we have always understood the need for a competitive edge. In this particular instance, it is the Yankees who are providing that competitive edge for us."
Julii had the bit between her teeth now. New words were pouring in and she was managing to understand their meaning. "How do the Yankees do that?"
"By strangling the market."
Julii did not understand the answer, but she did not want interrupt as Count Anton went on. "Europe is a place on the other side of the great Atlantic Ocean. Everything the manufacturers make must be brought here by ships, and the Yankees post war ships outside every Confederate port."
"Port?" Julii asked for clarification with confidence. This was all too exciting.
"In simple terms, a port is a place situated on the coast of a nation where ships load and unload cargo."
"Are ships big canoes made of wood with tall things that make white and black smoke?"
"They can be."
Count Anton sounded curious. "Have you ever seen such a thing?"
"At... at that place. On the river."
"That would be a river boat, but it is much the same as a ship."
Julii continued without waiting for more clarification because she believed she had enough information to understand what Count Anton was getting at. "The Yankee war ships stop cargo ships from reaching these ports, but your ships are somehow better at getting past the war ships and that is your competitive edge!"
"You amaze me, my dear. My blockade runners get past those Yankee war ships because, unlike my competitors, my fleet is very well-funded, custom built, and powered by steam."
Julii knew what steam was, but she did not understand how it made ships get past the Yankees.
For the moment, it was enough to know that steam was better than whatever the competitors have. She asked another question. "And the Yankees do not have your 'steam'?"
"That is almost right, and you are very clever. The Yankees have a few steam-powered vessels called ‘ironclads’, but not enough to completely block my fleet."
Julii's absorbent mind and her thirst for distracting knowledge were now running free and out of control. Her brain could hardly keep up with the questions she just had to ask. They poured out in a long string of requests.
"How big are your ships?"
And, "How many ships do you have?"
And, "How many ships are there in the world?"
And, "How much ammunition can your ships carry?"
Count Anton laughed and held up his hands in surrender as he said, "All in good time, my dear. All in good time. You will learn the answers to all of these questions, and many more, once we get you settled in Savannah."
Touching her hands fondly, he added in a warm voice, "The purpose of my trip to Atlanta was to convince General Hardee to increase my share of this most lucrative market. I believe that somehow meeting you is destined to help me achieve that goal."
Julii was relieved to hear that she had time and she was needed. Being needed meant the count had a greater motivation for keeping her alive with food and shelter and water, and this made her overconfident. Without fully thinking it through, Julii decided to show off her understanding of everything she had been told so far with the words. "And the general's gray men and the blue Yankees kill each other with the ammunition you supply because..."
Julii stopped in panic. She had truly believed that she knew the answer to that question, but she did not know why. She rummaged through every memory, but she could not find a logical answer. 'Why do they kill each other with the ammunition he supplies?'
The half-finished statement hung in the carriage like a black cloud. Still fragile and insecure, Julii was afraid she had undone all of the good she had achieved so far. 'Would the count's belief in her intelligence be shattered?'
Bracing herself, Julii waited for his inevitable disappointment, but when he spoke, Count Anton's tone was in no way derisive. It was respectful, even collaborative. "You have hit upon yet another age-old question, my dear. Why do people fight?"
Count Anton paused for a moment, and Julii felt the need to fill the silence with something smart. Remembering the riot seen from the departing carriage window, Julii said, "Men retaliate when they are hurt?"
Count Anton nodded his thoughtful approval. "Some men fight when they are hurt. Some say we fight for honor. Some say we fight for principles. Some say we fight for political beliefs. Some even claim to fight for love."
Then in a reverential tone, he added, "It is a question with a hundred answers but, however men choose to justify it, the simple truth is we fight because it is in our nature to fight."
Glancing out of the window, Count Anton sounded resigned, even a little sad. "Men have been fighting and dying for thousands of years and, as my family has known for two thousand of those years, the reason is simply the instinctive behavior in us all."
"Instinctive behavior." Julii repeated his words with confidence because she was sure she understood their meaning. She had been observing instinctive behavior every day of her life. She sounded excited as she said, "Instinctive behavior is what makes all of the animals behave as they do?"
Count Anton nodded his head 'yes'. He gestured with his hand and said "Go on."
"Birds make nests because of the thing you call 'instinctive behavior'. Wolves hunt in packs because that is what your 'instinctive behavior' tells them to do."
At that moment Count Anton looked like a proud parent, and Julii felt safer than at any time since leaving her ancestral home.
In a tone that proclaimed her an equal, Count Anton added, "All animals behave in logical ways. For them, killing is a means of keeping fed and alive. We humans, on the other hand, are driven to kill each other for reasons that make no sense. Every member of my family has understood how to exploit that basic drive since the time of our founder."
Feeling confident enough to return to her earlier blunder, Julii asked: "What reason do the Confederates give for fighting the Yankees?"
Count Anton's thoughtful smile returned, but his tone remained dry. "Men on the Confederate side will tell you the cause is political. They will talk for hours about their natural born right to receive independence and own slaves. On the other hand, men of the Union will tell you it is to retain one nation or to free the slaves. Both sides will claim that right and good, even God, is on their side, but that is not true. The true reasons are hidden deep within the instinctive behavior of every man."
Count Anton had a tone of resignation in his voice and a look of genuine sadness as he said, "Servicing conflict for so long has taught my family a few unavoidable truths about all wars."
Looking Julii directly in the eyes, he went on, "When wars come to an end, there are always a few calculating men who are richer and more powerful. The ordinary men who fought and bled will no longer be able to recall the unstoppable forces that drove them to fight. Only their disfigurements, mental and physical, will remain alongside regret. Nothing will have been resolved and, when enough time has passed to forget the horrors of that conflict, there will be another, followed by another, and another, and another."
Looking out at the countryside passing the carriage window, Count Anton added, "Understanding the true cause, and ignoring the hyperbole, my family has been able to remain detached while exploiting this sad inevitability since the time of the Roman Empire."
Julii silently repeated that wonderful new word “hyperbole”. She could sense Count Anton's discomfort and pain, but the need to understand more words and the ways of human complexity drove her to ask: "If it makes you sad, then why do you do it?"
Looking back from the passing countryside, Count Anton gave Julii yet another approving smile. "The swiftness of your mind is truly remarkable, my dear."
Pausing, Count Anton looked down at his feet. "Many years ago I decided to sever my family's connection with war. For two years I forbade my organization to supply anything but food stuff to all wars near or far."
Julii's smile was warm and innocent. "And that made you feel less sad?"
Count Anton’s laugh was bitter. "And that made me feel like a fool."
Bitter disappointment was clear in his voice. "Within hours, others had simply filled the void left by my withdrawal. It was then I learned what my family had always understood - if we do not get rich providing the means for men to kill each other, others always will."
To show support for her savior, Julii adopted a caring tone as she said, "I will learn how to help you."
A brush with madness
Entering Savannah in a carriage at night was far less confronting than riding a horse into Atlanta in the middle of the day. Julii felt less exposed, less vulnerable and less different in the darkness. She turned from the houses passing the carriage window to see Count Anton's expression of silent empathy.
It was as though he knew what she was thinking. As though he also feared the inevitable sunrise. As though he knew that without the carriage and the darkness to shield her, she would be exposed and unprotected. As though he knew that daylight would make the people of Savannah just as hostile as the people in Atlanta.
Julii wanted to say something kind and warm to thank Count Anton for his understanding. The string of positive and grateful words were on the very tip of her tongue when, without warning, the carriage drew to a halt. A shocking silence came crashing into the carriage with the force of an explosion.
Without movement, the wheels no longer squeaked and bumped as they bounced along the road. Without movement, the carriage no longer creaked and moaned. Without movement, the horses no longer clattered and snorted and clopped their hooves. The shock of such violent nothingness broke the spell that kept Julii safe.
Weakened by lack
of food, lack of water, lack of sleep, lack of home, lack of human kindness, and the lack of her Robert, she watched Count Anton open the door of the carriage and climb out.
His departure and her thoughts of Robert seemed to suck all feelings of security out of the carriage with him. As he turned to look back, he seemed impossibly far away. From what sounded like a great distance, Julii heard him say, "Follow me."
Julii froze. Her savior was outside looking in. He was no longer a part of her safe place. Fighting panic, Julii looked past Count Anton. Seeing the place he wanted her to go to may provide some comfort, but the sun was at least an hour from rising and everything beyond him was in pitch-darkness.
She wanted to obey his wish and leave the carriage, but the carriage represented safety. Leaving the carriage meant uncertainty. She had only known Count Anton for part of one day and most of one night. In the carriage she trusted him completely, but outside the carriage, in a strange city, she no longer knew what to think.
Count Anton looked in at Julii. He appeared confused. He spoke in a warm, supportive tone. "Come along, my dear."
He pointed into the darkness behind him. "This is the house. You will be safe here."
These gentle words made Julii feel a little safer until her terrified and suspicious imagination twisted their meaning. 'It was the voice a man would use to lure someone into danger!'
Her suspicions must have been written across her face because Count Anton's face changed and his pained expression caused Julii deep hurt. She hated herself for distrusting her savior. She ordered her body to move, but fear held her to the seat as though she were tied down with straps. She felt the rising panic of a cornered animal building inside her. She was trapped. Her heart was pounding.
Trying to calm Julii, Count Anton smiled and spoke in a warm voice. "Please calm yourself, my dear girl."
Then reversing his lumbering routine, he climbed back into the carriage. It was not easy for such a large man, and he sounded a little out of breath as he added, "It is just a few steps to my front door and no one will see you."