The Mountain

by David L. Golemon

  Jackson gave out a short laugh. “We learned from the battle of Hampton Roads, Colonel, that Mr. Ericsson is never totally sure about anything. And the Argo is one of those things.”

  “Well, I hope she doesn’t founder before we may need her,” Thomas continued as he again raised his glasses and studied the two ships. The Argo was much wider of beam than her tow, the Carpenter. However, she rode in the water well below her high-water mark and it looked like any rough seas would sink their ace in the hole.

  “As I see it, Colonel Thomas, she could go to the bottom right now and we would never miss her, simply because there is nothing on that mountain to find, thus, nothing to protect or defend,” Jackson said and then moved off to motivate his men to hurry.

  John Henry heard the doubt in the captain’s statement and he wondered if his own attitude was festering so much that it was starting to spill over into the thoughts of the men under his command.

  “All right, you Rebs gather up your washing and your knitting, time to go below. Its noontime and you know that our lady passenger has the deck at noon. Time for chow anyway,” Dugan said as he started herding the men down below. Dugan stopped in front of Taylor, who glanced up at John Henry. The sergeant major eventually did the same when he saw Taylor was ignoring his command. John Henry shook his head and then Dugan let out a frustrated but silent curse and then left the colonel on deck. Taylor turned and made his way to the quarterdeck and Thomas.

  “You think my men don’t have a modicum of decorum, do you? I assure you the boys treat women in the south as well as yours do in the north. Miss Richelieu has no reason to fear them. Besides, John Henry, that woman looks capable of fending off any suitors that may crop up on this little trip.”

  Thomas turned and faced Taylor. This was the first moment they’d had together since his betrayal the night before. The escape attempt was still fresh in the colonel’s mind.

  “The order of exclusion stands, Colonel.”

  “Colonel? Are you that put out at me that you forget we were once friends, and even related?”

  “I guess there are too many years and far too many battles to return to old times, Colonel. After last night I realized that. The order stands.”

  Taylor raised a brow and then turned and saw the object of their conversation step onto the main deck. She was followed by Ollafson and his two assistants, who seemed to irritate the old Swede to no end. Thomas’s eyes were on these two odd ducks and not Claire Richelieu.

  “She is something, though, isn’t she, John Henry?” Taylor asked, thinking Thomas was studying Claire.

  Thomas was taken by surprise by Taylor’s misinformed assumption. He shook his head and then went to the small set of steps that led to the main deck and offered Miss Richelieu an extended hand.

  “Thank you,” she said, not allowing Thomas to assist. “If I’m expected to climb a mountain in the early onset of a Turkish winter, I think I can negotiate these ten steps, sir.”

  Thomas smiled and then stepped out of the way with a fingertip to the brim of his western-style hat. He laughed when the freshening wind of the speeding ship blew the large purple feather garnishing her wide-brimmed hat into her face.

  “Don’t let my man Gray Dog see that little item. He has a thing for fancy feathers.”

  “Is that right?” she said as she went to the railing to enjoy the cool air sweeping the deck.

  “Yes, he just can’t imagine the strange eagle it came from, being purple and all.”

  Claire turned and for the first time John Henry saw the woman smile.

  “So be careful. That coyote hat he wears used to belong to Mrs. Lincoln.”

  Both Thomas and Claire turned to see Taylor, who had joined them at the railing.

  Claire didn’t say anything. She only looked at Taylor and saw that there had at one time been something between these two men. She had heard the conversations below from the whispered voices of the crew and some prisoners. She studied the Confederate colonel, half-smiled, and then returned to face the calm seas.

  “So, from what I understand, you’re the lady who speaks in the language of the angels?”

  Claire smiled without turning. “Please, I only speak in the tongues of archangels, Colonel Taylor. Never, ever just an everyday, ordinary kind. That would be quite beneath me.”

  Taylor laughed and then stepped up beside the woman with the flaming red hair. John Henry silently moved away to join Professor Ollafson, who had his hat off and was also taking in the coolness after so long below going over expedition planning.

  “Having any trouble below with the men? I mean, the close quarters and all?”

  Ollafson turned and faced the colonel. He smiled and then held out his hand to shake. Thomas hesitated, wondering if the professor even remembered who he was. He knew he was wearing his cavalry uniform and not his dress, but he didn’t think it was that much of a difference. He wondered if maybe the professor was on the short side of senility. He shook the old man’s hand anyway.

  “No, no trouble at all. The crew has been very helpful.”

  Thomas released his hand and nodded at the two men who had joined them. Neither Cromwell nor McDonald offered a hand in greeting and Thomas was at least thankful for that.

  “My meaning was the prisoners, Professor.”

  “Oh, them.” Ollafson looked uncomfortable as he glanced around. He then leaned into John Henry. “Those men scare me, I’m afraid. I have never seen Rebel soldiers up close before. The last two days have been eye-opening, to say the least.”

  “Well, in the end you will discover that they are only men like you and I, Professor.” John Henry looked at the two men next to him. “Gentlemen, will you excuse us for a brief moment so I can have a word with Professor Ollafson?”

  Both men dipped their heads and then silently moved away. Only Cromwell turned back momentarily, catching himself before anyone could notice his curiosity. The man next to him, McDonald, had not noticed anything.

  “Professor, how well do you know your two new assistants?”

  Ollafson removed a handkerchief and then wiped his sweating brow as the sea and wind assisted in cooling him down.

  “Not at all, I’m afraid. They seem to be knowledgeable enough on the subject matter at hand, but in answer to your question, Colonel, I have never seen either of them before. But my assistant Claire has, and I trust her implicitly.”

  “Implicitly enough not to trust her with your interpretation of the petrified wood and its warning before our meeting in the capital?”

  Ollafson didn’t answer the second inquiry as he stopped wiping his brow and fixed Thomas with his eyes. “That has nothing to do with trust, Colonel, I assure you. It has to do with keeping my friends and my colleagues alive and breathing. In case you weren’t informed, my young assistant was murdered in New York just a few days ago. So forgive me for keeping certain facts close to the vest, as they say.”

  Thomas was now about to explode. He faced the professor and the old man could see Thomas was not a man who liked surprises.

  “Why in the hell wasn’t I notified about this murder of your student?”

  Ollafson was hesitant to answer. He looked out to sea toward home and then decided it was too late for Thomas to turn the ships back to port.

  “I … I … well, Colonel, I was afraid the expedition would have been delayed or that I would not be allowed to participate.”

  “For God’s sake, Professor, you lost a kid to a murder and you’re worried that you would not get to go?” Thomas faced the opposite direction and saw that his loud exclamation had grabbed the attention of not only Captain Jackson, but Claire, Taylor, and the others. They watched from afar. John Henry forcibly calmed himself before turning.

  “You will never keep anything from me again. If I’m to get everyone home from this I need help. Do not get my men killed because you are afraid to say something. Is that clear, Professor?”

  Turning even whiter than he had been, Ollafson nodded his head
in silence as he witnessed the wrath of John Henry for the first time. Thomas turned and left.

  “Well, I never heard the professor so cowed before. Your Colonel Thomas must be a man of deep thought.”

  “Well, maybe not deep thought, but he can scare the hell out of people when he wants.”

  Before Taylor could comment on Thomas’s demeanor further, a brown hand reached down seemingly from nowhere and plucked the purple feather from Claire’s hat. The hat actually lifted from her head for a brief instant and then settled as the feather was freed. She looked up just in time to see Gray Dog disappear into the ship’s rigging above their heads.

  “You thieving bastard!” Dugan called as he returned from the lower decks. “You give that back!”

  Claire readjusted her hat and then looked from Sergeant Major Dugan to Taylor. “I must say one thing—this little odyssey is going to be interesting.”

  “I suspect so, even with the warnings on those maps belowdecks.”

  “What warnings?” Claire asked as she removed the hat for good, exposing her curled and coiffed red hair.

  “The ones that describe the legend about the place we are going.”

  “I don’t follow you,” she said as she stabbed her hatpin into the hat.

  “The warnings that say, here there be dragons.”

  She watched as Taylor removed his gray hat and then bowed as he left. She tried not to take Colonel Taylor seriously, but then realized she didn’t know exactly what to expect out there even with his bad joke. She looked to the east and shuddered.

  “Here there be dragons.” She took a deep breath. “Maybe not dragons, but something far worse.”

  The three ships, with the Argo in her disguise as a barge in tow, slowly made their way toward the one place on Earth God had placed off limits to mankind—Mount Ararat.

  * * *

  It was one thirty A.M. and the Yorktown was battened down for the night. The shipboard watch kept their eyes mostly on the horizon, looking for lights of another vessel in their vicinity, but every now and again they would cast wary eyes on the deck below. Thus far the Confederate prisoners had been well behaved, but a warning from the army colonel persuaded the naval crew to be aware. He suspected their strength gain from a steady diet would tend to make Colonel Taylor’s men more apt to attempt a takeover of the Yorktown, and for that reason the topside watch was armed with pistols. Thomas was noting this in his journal for the president when a light knock sounded on the door to the commander’s cabin.

  “It’s open,” came the curt response as he closed his journal and then quickly rolled up the map of Eastern Turkey he had been studying. The door opened cautiously.

  “Excuse me. I saw your lamps were still burning. May I have a word?” Claire Richelieu said as she poked her head into the opening.

  John Henry didn’t respond other than to nod his head. He started to stand but Madame Richelieu waved him down. “We don’t need that while in transit, or no man would ever get any work done,” she said seriously as she entered and closed the door.

  John Henry remained standing. “Please leave the door ajar, Miss.”

  “Oh, yes, I guess we should show some propriety.”

  “Tongues wag even more on naval vessels, Madame.”

  “Yes, I suppose they would. May I have a word?” she said as she stepped farther into the large cabin. John Henry noticed she was absent the large hat she tended toward and her collar was unbuttoned above the tight bodice of her dress. For the first time in a trick of lighting Thomas could now see why Claire wore the large hats. Running along her cheek to her jawline was a thin scar that was usually hidden by a veil on her hat. In the light of the cabin she didn’t seem to care if Thomas noticed the scar or not. She stood before him silently as he started to ease himself back into the chair. He quickly ran a hand through his dark hair and then studied Claire for the longest thirty seconds of the woman’s life.

  “Madame, I believe I gave explicit orders for you to be accompanied at all times by either a uniformed Union officer or any of the naval personnel. Never are you to roam belowdecks at any time. Is that now clear?” His blue eyes bore into her hazel ones and she didn’t flinch.

  “Colonel, I assure you I need no babysitter on this voyage.”

  “Nonetheless.”

  She half-bowed her head in compliance. “I acquiesce to the man’s world we live in.”

  “Bow to whatever you would like, Madame. Stay clear of the prisoners.” John Henry started to place the maps back into their proper order and then stood to unbutton his coat as he turned to Claire. “Now, what can I help you with?” He hung up the coat and then undid his loosened bow tie.

  “Well, I’m afraid I came to see you about, well, you.”

  John Henry stopped all motion and then looked at the small woman with the blazing red hair, which now hung loose around her shoulders. She didn’t look cowed at all and stood straight while keeping her eyes on him waiting for a reaction.

  “Now you’ve seen me. What can I help with?”

  She watched as he returned to the desk, frustrated at delaying his sleep.

  “I believe you are going to get most of these men killed, Colonel.”

  “I suspect I may, Miss. But in the interest of clarity, in which context do you place your meaning?” He took the closed journal and placed it in the uppermost drawer of the desk and then he looked at her. His expression revealed he really wasn’t pleased with the statement she had made.

  “You, sir, are not taking this expedition seriously. Your behavior will spread to the members of this voyage and corrupt it. That will be very dangerous for you and for all of us.”

  John Henry did not respond in the least. His eyes remained on Claire.

  Claire stepped farther into the room and the lamp from the desk clearly defined the woman’s features. Thomas could see that she was quite beautiful in an academic way. She was a confident person and he immediately knew her to be a woman like his deceased wife. Headstrong and opinionated.

  “While you may not believe in the tale, you must take this curse seriously. The professor is not exaggerating the losses to previous attempts at Ararat. Many men have paid for not giving history credit. While you may think this is a Bible tale, I assure you, Colonel Thomas, it is much more than that.”

  “Madame, I take everything seriously when it comes to protecting my men under any circumstance. However, that being said, the only dangers I believe we face are human in nature. This little excursion into Turkey could cause problems that no one foresaw other than the president, and for the first time I cannot agree with his method of reaching out to the South after the war. It will take more than a biblical legend to heal this country. So you see, my attention in this matter is solely dedicated to getting all men home from this, North or South.”

  “I just need to ask, Colonel, if you hate this mission so badly, why did you ever accept it? From my understanding of the meetings held between Mr. Lincoln and Professor Ollafson, this was strictly voluntary. So why?”

  “You are not militarily trained, Madame. You never ask an officer why he does something. I invoke that unwritten rule now, except to tell you that I would go to the ends of the earth for the president, and leave it at that.”

  “I was speaking with Colonel Taylor. He seems to be a very astute and intelligent man.”

  “Yes, he is. Very much so. And I may add he is one of the most dangerous men in the country. There was more than one reason why we brought the colonel along.”

  “And what was that?” she asked, watching John Henry’s jaw clench, relax, and then clench again.

  “He thinks faster in a saddle than any man I have ever known. He would be a detriment to the Northern cause if he were ever to escape and rejoin the fight. You may not have been briefed on this, but I will inform you anyway. Colonel Taylor was pegged early on by Robert E. Lee to become a commander in the western fight, which would have spelled disaster for General Grant in Tennessee. So I brought him alo
ng to stop that scenario from ever taking place. President Lincoln thought so too, since he was picked for the mission not long after I was selected.”

  “I understand you two attended West Point together.”

  John Henry just looked at the woman from Harvard and didn’t say anything.

  “And that he is, or was, your brother-in-law.”

  “May I help you with some other … problem?”

  Claire knew she would get no more from John Henry that night.

  “Yes, you have answered everything, whether you wanted to or not. Just do not underestimate the dangers we face to the men, Colonel, because any carelessness on their part could turn this little fairy tale, as you call it, into a very real nightmare.” Claire turned and left the cabin.

  John Henry watched her go and then slumped down in his chair. He knew the scholar was right about one thing. He could not show his doubts in the presence of anyone ever again. That would make men sloppy in their duties. He just wanted to get there and convince the president there was absolutely nothing on that damned mountain other than the glacier they would have to climb. He shook his head and closed his eyes, and before he knew it he was fast asleep.

  * * *

  Claire stopped by amidships and saw the black mess steward was up early, or up late, she didn’t know which. He was making coffee for the midnight watch when she tapped lightly on the small galley kitchen’s door.

  “Oh, goodness, Missy, you shouldn’t be up roaming around at this time of the morning,” he said as he moved quickly to the door, wiping his hands on a white apron.

  “Couldn’t sleep. I smelled that wonderful coffee of yours.”

  He immediately went to the enclosed stove and quickly poured her a tin cup full of the rich coffee. She took it with a smile and then sipped.

  “Really, Missy, belowdecks on a warship is no place for a lady like yourself.” The steward moved off to tend to a batch of biscuit dough and started kneading it.

  “Yes, our intrepid Colonel Thomas has told me as much, time and time again.”

  The black man smiled as he worked. “His reputation is one that even we boys in the navy have heard about, yes, ma’am. He’s a tough hickory nut to crack, almost as tough as Captain Jackson. Those two together can make for an explosive mix.”