The Mountain

by David L. Golemon

  Thomas finally saw Gray Dog as Claire gave him a blanket to cover his bare skin. The colonel placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and squeezed.

  “Your pa would have been proud today. So would the sergeant major.”

  “I think that was the one element that pushed the Turks over the edge,” Jessy said. “This boy”—he grabbed Gray Dog and shook him—“insisted he lead the charge, and by God he did.”

  “What now, John Henry?” Claire asked as she watched the revelry around her. She smiled as she saw the men of one nation once again.

  John Henry Thomas paced away from the men and looked north along the track that would take them to Trabzon Harbor. He removed his hat, wiped the sweat from the band, and then held it at his side as the warmth of the sun hit his face. He finally turned and faced Claire and the others.

  “Let’s go home.”

  29

  TRABZON HARBOR, THE BLACK SEA

  It had been a full week since the Carpenter had limped into port. She was still leaking heavily but the carpenters from both ships, including the Chesapeake, promised command that she would be good as new when the time came to sail.

  The Carpenter’s captain watched his crew as they lounged on the deck. He had forbidden any shore leave in the port town simply because he knew the French frigate Osiris was berthed only two docks down. He could imagine the French crew lying in wait for the Americans to make an appearance in town.

  “Captain, we have a courier from Colonel Thomas,” his first officer said as he saw the young marine corporal from Thomas’s unit. The boy was worn and tired.

  “See the corporal gets a good meal.” He tore open the envelope and read. “Wait, how far out is the colonel?”

  “The column is a day back, sir. I’m afraid we have company also. The British are a distance away.”

  “Very well. Dismissed. Get some food and rest.”

  “What does the colonel say?” the first officer asked.

  “He says for us to be prepared to take on ten and half tons of cargo.” The captain turned and looked out to the calm surface of the Black Sea.

  “Cargo? What sort of cargo, Captain?” The first officer looked perplexed and then looked at his commanding officer. “You don’t suppose—”

  “We’re going be sailing heavier than normal, it looks like. So, make ready the loading teams and let’s get the last of that water out of our bilges. And we still don’t know the fate of Argo. It’s been two weeks and the Chesapeake hasn’t found her. God, if she foundered we could be in a whole new situation we did not count on. Go on, get the crew moving. We’re going to have company.”

  “Yes, Captain.” The first officer moved off to inform the crew.

  “Just what in the hell are you bringing to my ship, Colonel Thomas?”

  * * *

  It was late at night when the lone rider abandoned his played-out mount on the outskirts of town. He made his way through the silent village of Trabzon until he could smell the sea. He saw the high masts of several large ships and he was cautious as he made his way to the harbor.

  The French spy Renaud had been lost for the last three days and barely made it to Trabzon before the column of Americans. He was exhausted and worn to a frazzle. He spied the American ship before he made it too far. He saw the activity onboard at this late hour and assumed they had been informed of Thomas’s expected arrival. He grimaced, cursed the American, and then saw the French-flagged warship berthed close by, but not too close to the American. Now he would see who ran from what field of battle.

  He had to convince the French navy that it was now a shooting war.

  * * *

  The next morning dawned cloudy and rainy. The water mixed with the snow and the world became a clogged mess of snow, mud, and rain.

  John Henry and his mixed cavalry escorted the wagons through town and even at that early-morning hour the citizens of the backwater harbor came out to see the Americans. Most eyes fell on the heavily laden wagons as they progressed through the cobbled streets. Thomas was nearly asleep in his saddle when Claire reached out and touched his leg.

  “John Henry, we’ve arrived,” she said softly until his eyes fluttered open.

  “Apologies; must have dozed off.”

  “You’re exhausted. It’s time you get aboard and let Captain Jackson do what he was trained for.”

  “I will never be happier to relinquish command than I am this fine blustery morning.”

  * * *

  The men were greeted by sailors of the Carpenter, who were quickly amazed at what they had achieved. They saw wagon after wagon wheeled onto the dock and wondered just what the army colonel had dug out of Ararat’s summit.

  The captain of the Carpenter bolted down the gangway and greeted a slowly dismounting Thomas and Taylor. He saluted Captain Jackson and then he saw how worn the men were and observed the mixed uniforms of the combined command. His face fell when he saw the new Confederate clothing.

  “Well, while you were digging away on Ararat, I see Congress authorized the raising of a new cavalry regiment. Not sure they’ll approve of the new uniforms, though,” he joked, but could see none of the officers were in a very jovial mood.

  “Report, Captain?” a weary Jackson said, returning the man’s salute.

  He filled in Jackson on the developments and saw that the news of Argo’s possible loss hit him and Colonel Thomas rather hard. The Rebel officer only shook his head and then looked at Claire with a frown. The news was not good.

  “That, and we have not seen a trace of the Yorktown since we parted at Constantinople.”

  Jackson looked at John Henry, who only nodded his head that the captain could inform the commander of Carpenter the truth.

  “Yorktown will not be joining the squadron. She has been assigned other, more pressing duties. She is currently at the emergency egress point on the Mediterranean Sea. Beyond that, I cannot explain further. So, Captain, we are conceivably on our own with just the Chesapeake to run interference for us from the Black Sea through the Bosphorus and then the Aegean Sea. Then we have to slip past Gibraltar without getting our tails shot off. Simple, really.”

  The captain watched the tired men of the combined excavation team slowly dismount to allow the sailors access to the wagons and their precious cargo.

  The captain repeated and looked over at the tall main mast of the French warship, Osiris, and then shook his head.

  “What are you thinking, Captain?” his first officer asked after rousing the crew to offload the wagons.

  “I’m thinking I missed that particular lecture at Annapolis on how the described scenario could possibly be construed as simple. Suicidal maybe, but simple?”

  The captain turned away and saw the lamps of the French frigate burning brightly as the French crew of the Osiris awoke to the Americans making ready for sea.

  * * *

  Claire found John Henry on deck as he leaned against the ship’s railing and watched the Black Sea slide along the hull of the heavily loaded Carpenter. From time to time she watched Thomas turn his face to the stars looking deep in thought. She pulled her shawl more tightly around herself and was happy for the warmth, and for the fact that she had been able to salvage at least some of her more womanly clothing from the destroyed camp at Ararat. John Henry had forsaken his coat and hat on the blustery night that found the bulk of the crew fast asleep. Only the deck-side watch was on duty, and among the men awake was Gray Dog, who had found a new home in the highest point on the ship—the crow’s nest, which by now the lookouts were happy to share after they learned about the Comanche’s exploits on the Plain of Ararat.

  “After all we have been through, you still can’t get any sleep?” Claire asked before Thomas could turn to see who had approached. John Henry had become very aware of shadows in the night since his days on the mountain’s summit.

  “Captain Jackson has informed me that if the French make a move it will be in the dark of night. Now I can only relax in the daylight hour
s.”

  “Is that all it is?”

  “And you’re referencing what?” he asked as he looked down upon her slight frame. He could clearly see she had not recouped any of her lost sleep either.

  “It’s just that I’ve heard most of the men that spent those dark nights on that damnable mountain are having a hard time sleeping as well. I know Colonel Taylor has been pacing every night until he can no longer stand upright and he collapses. The joy that the men felt after the Turks ran has long since dissipated and now the men have had time to think. And the curse of Azrael is on their minds.”

  “I can’t help them. Each man has to evaluate what he saw up there and face his own demons, Azrael notwithstanding.”

  “What do you believe?”

  “I believe that we made up what we needed to believe. I don’t have any idea what it is we ran into up there and on the voyage over. Okay, let’s just say it is Azrael. If that’s the case, the one thing I am sure of is the fact that whoever placed that curse was trying desperately to save what he loved.”

  “Noah and his family?”

  “No, not just his kinfolk. I believe the love he felt for all humanity dictated that he go against God and his killer angel.”

  “Why can’t you say that to the men?” she asked as she watched his blue eyes against the glow of the moonlight.

  “Because I’m sure they will eventually take what happened and either live with it, or find a rational explanation in their own way.” He smiled as he looked at Claire closely. “As I have done.”

  “So, Colonel Thomas, you are now an official believer of fairy tales.”

  “I guess I am,” he said, and they both looked at each other for the longest time. They were interrupted by the officer of the deck.

  “Colonel, Captain Jackson would like to know if you’ll join him on the quarterdeck.”

  With one a last look into Claire’s eyes, John Henry walked away leaving Claire longing for him to stay.

  Thomas found Jackson as he looked through his single-lens glass to the aft seas.

  “We have our full complement of onlookers,” he said as he handed over the glass to John Henry, who looked where Jackson was pointing.

  Barely visible in the moonlight were the silhouettes of not one, but both of the French warships.

  “Now, three points to the north,” Jackson said as John Henry adjusted his view.

  Thomas sighed as he saw the tall masts of two more ships that were frigate-sized. He lowered the glass and returned it to Jackson.

  “The newcomers, French?”

  “Unable to say at the moment. However, I don’t think the Royal Navy would dare meet us in closed seas. They would wait until we make our way past Gibraltar. No, my suspicions are that they are also French.”

  “What do you think, Captain Jackson?” Thomas asked with a small smile.

  “Officer of the deck?”

  “Sir!” the first officer called from his station at the helm.

  “Beat to general quarters. Let’s get the crew to battle stations, shall we?”

  “Sir!”

  “Gentlemen, signal the Chesapeake. We are going on the attack. Let’s see if these boys can dodge us for a change. Inform Chesapeake we break formation at first light.”

  The four French warships heard the drumbeats of the two American frigates as they brought crews to battle stations. The French were confused until their own lookouts called out that the Americans were reversing course and headed right for them.

  * * *

  Three hours later the men onboard all six warships were ready and at stations. Captain Jackson had placed Thomas’s men high in the rigging of the Carpenter in case they were boarded.

  “Four against two, now those are odds I can relate to,” Jessy said as he joined Thomas on the foredeck.

  “We’re about to see how serious the Frenchies are about stopping us,” John Henry said as Claire joined them. He whispered something to Gray Dog, who nodded and then headed the woman off and roughly lifted her from her feet and as she protested he moved her belowdecks.

  “Chivalrous, I must say,” Taylor quipped.

  “My ass. The last thing I need is to find out she’s also a better shot than me.”

  Jessy laughed as he saw the French frigates growing larger in his view.

  “Tell me again what happens if they don’t interpret our ramming them as an accident and they open fire on us?”

  “Well, Colonel Taylor, as long as the first cannon shot isn’t fired by us, let the war begin. Off official records, of course.”

  “Oh, but of course,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “But tell me, do you think governments will wonder what became of their frontline ships when they don’t return home, even old honest Abe?” Jessy asked with a smirk.

  “Accidental sinkings happen all the time, I imagine. It will be marked up as acceptable wartime losses for us. As for them, I don’t care how they explain it to their citizens, but I imagine the truth may be fudged a little in that particular arena.”

  “Well, we’ll soon see.”

  As they watched, the Chesapeake broke her side-by-side formation with the Carpenter. The larger frigate made a run at the lead ship, the Especial, the very ship that had rammed them north of Trabzon.

  “Go, go,” Captain Jackson called out as he watched the Chesapeake charge forward. Without the heavy cargo weighing her down the sleek warship sped past Carpenter and made her run for Especial.

  Suddenly the forward-facing twin mounts on the Especial erupted in smoke and flame as she let loose two twenty-pound shells toward Chesapeake. All eyes widened as the intent of the French navy was made abundantly clear.

  “Forward mounts, fire!” Jackson called out, trying to give the Chesapeake some covering fire. He cursed as he ordered Carpenter to turn so she could bring her main starboard guns to bear.

  The shells struck the Chesapeake as she returned fire from her own forward mount. The forward prow erupted in splintering wood and burning sailcloth as the two warheads blew apart the two forward cannons and their gun crews.

  Four exploding shells found the mark against the forward superstructure of the Especial.

  “I think our bluff has been called,” Taylor shouted as he struck the deck as wood and men flew past him as two shells from the Osiris hit the Carpenter.

  Before their turn was made Carpenter was struck three times by the advancing French ships. The companions of the Especial and Osiris had joined their fire with the two damaged ships.

  “Damn, I really didn’t think they would have the gall,” Jackson sang out as he ordered the full complement of the starboard battery to return fire. Just as he did several shells struck the Carpenter and one penetrated her deck and slammed into the cargo hold, killing fifteen band members of the 317th.

  “Bring her guns to bear on the turn!” Jackson called out just as a tremendous explosion erupted from the forecastle of the Chesapeake. “All guns fire at the turn!”

  The starboard side of Carpenter seemed to blow outward as all twenty-three gun crews opened fire one after the other in rapid succession.

  John Henry was helped to his feet by Taylor as the Carpenter heeled to port after discharging her starboard battery. Before they knew what was happening they were again thrown from their feet and men fell screaming from the rigging above them. The third and fourth frigates of the French navy fired all forty-four guns on their port sides in as rapid a discharge as anyone had ever witnessed. Captain Jackson fell to the deck as grapeshot shattered the wooden railing and masts around him. Men again started screaming as the steel balls ripped mercilessly through their bodies. Rigging and sail fell to the decks.

  The French navy had become serious in their attempts to stop the Americans.

  John Henry heard the whistle of flying iron balls as they passed overhead and through the wooden hull of the large frigate. Taylor screamed in frustration as the Osiris passed close aboard and let loose with her port batteries.

  The main
mast of the Carpenter was struck and the thick wood splintered but held firm against the onslaught of wind and fire.

  A quarter of a mile away the Chesapeake was circling aimlessly as her rudder was blown away. The Americans were now fish in a barrel.

  The noise was tremendous as the six ships exchanged gunfire. Thus far the combined guns of the Carpenter and the Chesapeake had only managed to damage Especial, but the men came on deck to cheers as the Especial’s main mast came crashing down into the sea.

  John Henry knew he had led them into disaster by pushing their luck a little too far in his recommendation to turn on their pursuers. The bluff had been called in no uncertain terms by the French.

  The passing winds did nothing to clear the thick, acrid smell of gunpowder and burning wood from her decks. John Henry cursed as small hands helped him up. When he looked he saw it was Claire who had somehow shaken free of Gray Dog, who was still trying to physically coax her belowdecks. He was bloody from several large splinters of wood that had pierced his back and arms.

  “Get below!” he screamed as more grapeshot tore into the Carpenter.

  “Most are dead down there. I want to stay here!” she screamed and Gray Dog ceased pulling on her as Carpenter was rocked as one of her exposed deck guns exploded from a direct hit from Osiris.

  As suddenly as the violence had erupted, it all ceased at once. The four French vessels circled the two heavily damaged American frigates. It was if they were viewing a wounded wild animal and were judging its lethality through cautious observation.

  “They’ve stopped,” Claire said as she leaned over to assist Jessy to his feet. He looked at John Henry and all of the mirth from days gone by had vanished. For the first time Thomas saw real worry in the Confederate colonel’s eyes.

  “They have to come in close now,” said Jackson as he moved over to the railing with his spyglass to his eye. They could see a man trying to tend to Jackson’s exposed wounds. He had been peppered by flying splinters from the helmsman’s station. The ship’s wheel was half torn away. Jackson ignored the corpsman and the wounds. The captain lowered the glass and blood dripped to the decking at his feet. John Henry saw the deep wounds and knew the captain was running on adrenaline alone. “They have to come close and destroy the evidence that we were ever here. They have to sink all trace of us.” Jackson finally acceded to the corpsman who was attempting to remove his shredded coat. “Colonel, get ready to get your men off. These bastards are not going to board my ships!”