Blood Moon (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Mercy forced herself to rise after what had been a sleepless night of constant debate over her decision to leave the fort and her plan to reach Jacob beyond the Federal front lines. Dawn had not yet broken through the cloudy sky, giving the impression that night still had hours of life, yet within minutes, the fort would awaken to a new day. She would leave this place behind and never return.

She looked at the two sleeping women with whom she shared the room. They would open their eyes any time now. They would greet her with bright smiles, and she would lie to them about why she was up and dressed so early. She had told no one about her plans, not even Nelson, who would be very cross with her and probably unforgiving. She wouldn’t blame Nelson if he never wanted to speak to her again after this. She was running away without a word and would break their bond of trust and mutual respect.

The decision to leave the fort this morning had been a difficult one. She was a coward, running from a man who had so graciously asked her to marry him. But she was also being true to herself and running to the man she loved. She stared out the window, which threw back her reflection. She would bring shame upon Isaac and would receive condemnation from Nelson, but surely there was no shame in following her heart’s desire.

She didn’t like the woman staring back at her, she finally decided. She had selfishly toyed with Isaac in order to gain his trust. She had given him no reason to doubt her desire to remain with him at the fort. But she had only remained this long because of her injured wrist, and she had counted the days until she was sure she could manage on her own. She would break his heart today, and the guilt would remain with her forever. Oh, why did he have to love her? If only he could have remained the friend he’d once been. She would have confided in him, and she would have told him all about her plans to go to Jacob. He might even have helped her to get to Yorktown by way of a horse. Isaac’s love for her was very inconvenient, and Nelson’s loyalty towards Isaac had made this situation even worse.

Love was the most powerful adversary she had ever known. It was undefeatable in her case. Isaac had attributes that Jacob did not possess. Isaac abhorred slavery. He was a healer and a man who cared nothing for wealth or position. He would make a wonderful husband and father. Jacob, on the other hand, would give his life to keep the Negros enslaved. He’d married a woman to save face and to honour his commitments to his plantation. He would teach his children to look down upon a race of people because of colour and caste. Yet she could think of no better man in the world to have by her side. Her love for him transcended all human flaws. It would never be proved, of course, but real love was a joining of souls, one lost without the other, forever dark and empty, with perpetual desire unquenched.

She looked once more at her reflection. She was dressed in her old breeches, the first time she had worn them since her arrival. She had sewn the ripped material on the legs and had repaired the damage to the crotch, torn when Andrew had grabbed her waistband as she struggled to get into the boat. She smoothed down the creased shirt belonging to Isaac and rolled up the sleeve to her elbows. She tucked the oversized shirt into the breeches, fastened her braces to the waistband, and pulled them one at a time over each shoulder.

She sat on the edge of the bed and attempted to bend Eddie’s hat into a more respectable shape. The hat had been soaked though with river water. Faded in colour, it was decidedly worse for the wear, but she was convinced that it held some magical powers. She strongly believed that it was a good omen, that it had kept her alive during some very harrowing circumstances. She would never part with this hat, she thought. They would have to bury her in it.

She opened the door and put her face up to the early morning air. It was mild out. She was thankful, for she had a quite a way to go before reaching Yorktown and no coat to protect her should it rain. She put her hat on and pulled it down around her ears. It was time to go.

She walked casually towards the kitchens, which sat only a block away from the   infirmary. She looked up at the fort’s walls. Soldiers were on guard all day and all night, looking out towards the ocean, the causeway, and the James River. It was hard to believe they were defending the fort from the likes of Jacob and Hendry, for she found life inside its gates more peaceful than any other place she had been in the past year.

As she reached the sprawling kitchens, her resolve weakened. She breathed deeply and tried to still the fluttering in her belly. “For God’s sake, calm yourself, woman,” she whispered. She would not turn around and go back to her room, but she had to admit that the undertaking that faced her had not seemed this daunting last night. She tried to focus on Jacob’s face, but it faded as quickly as she conjured it up and left her seeing only danger ahead.

She banished her pessimism and scolded herself. All manner of things could happen should she fail, but thinking about them was only going to damage her confidence and dull her senses. God’s truth, she thought, if she had thought too long about everything she had to do, she would never have crossed London Bridge …

Work in the kitchen was in full flow. Army cooks and three women were busy cooking grits,   pork belly bacon, and scrambled eggs in large cooking pans that hung above open fires. Newly baked cornbread was still hot and smelling even more pungent as it mixed with the aroma of fresh, strong coffee.

Mercy greeted everyone and set about making herself useful. Behind her, a Bostonian woman called out to her. “How are you this fine morning, Mercy? You look very strange in them clothes. I got a gown you can have if you’ve run out of things to put on.”

Mercy smiled. “Thank you. That’s kind of you. I’ll take you up on your offer, if you don’t mind. I hope the federal government learns of our sacrifice. I’ve been wearing the same dress every day for weeks. Wet or dry, it goes on my back.”

“And very comely it is too,” an army sergeant called to her.

Mercy walked to where the man stood and gave him her brightest smile. “Good morning, Sergeant. I’m so glad you’re here. May I talk to you for a moment?”

“Yes, ma’am. What can I be doing for you?” He smiled.

“Well, you see, I was wondering if I might accompany you to Newport News this morning. I have a real craving to get out of the fort for a little while. I’m feeling a little unwell, and I’m sure a nice ride with you would do me a world of good. And you could do with an extra pair of hands, couldn’t you?”

Mercy watched him crack eggs into the pan. He was thinking about it, she thought. If he said no, she would have to wait until tomorrow or the next day to try again. “Please, Sergeant. Look at me. I’m not vain, but even I can see that I’m all plain and dull-looking. Surely you wouldn’t deny a woman a new ribbon for her hair. There are some things the fort doesn’t supply for us women – and it’s my birthday next week. I would like to make an effort with my appearance. Will you take me just this once?”

“I don’t see why not. I’ll just run it past Major Bernstein first. I hear tell you’re his responsibility, and I don’t want no trouble with the doc.”

“But he already knows I want to go to town. I asked his permission last night,” she lied. Isaac was the last person she wanted to share this with. “He wants me to go. He thinks it’s a lovely idea.”

“There ain’t much room in the wagon for passengers.”

“Oh, I won’t be any bother. I can ride as well as any man, and I’ll take care of any horse that’s available to me.” Mercy watched him, again grappling with his decision. A horse would be an added bonus, she thought. It would save her from having to steal one.

“Well, I don’t reckon there’s any harm in it, on account of it being your birthday and all. Can’t be much fun being cooped up here for weeks at a time neither. Supply wagon leaves in half an hour – I’ll make sure there’s an extra horse for you.

Mercy felt her thumping heart pushing against her chest. It had been awhile since she’d felt so stirred. She picked up a piece of cornbread and bit into it. She didn’t know when she might get the chance to eat again. She looked around. No one was looking. She picked up another two pieces and stuffed them in her pocket. She tightened the bandage on her hand and wrist, flexing her fingers backwards and forwards. The hand was still tender, but otherwise it was as good as new. She sat on a wooden box and counted the minutes. She smiled.
I’m coming back to you, Jacob.

Chapter Thirty

A sigh of relief left Mercy’s mouth. The supply wagon and four soldiers halted at the garrison headquarters in Newport News. Mercy dismounted her horse and led it a little way up the street. She scanned the area, noting the absence of garrison soldiers. Where were they? she wondered. The town was far too peaceful. There were no horses, bar a few tied up here and there. This was not a good sign. She should have deduced that the garrison would concentrate its forces on the outskirts and all roads leading into Newport News from a northerly direction. They would not be sitting around the boarding house playing tiddlywinks, for God’s sake!

Warwick Road would be the Federal’s defensive line, she imagined. She had heard soldiers talk about it in the fort. This same road would also be used by the Confederacy some miles farther north. To reach the Confederate lines, she would have to bypass the Federal lines. This would mean going through some rough terrain, keeping clear of main roads.

She walked back down the street and found one of the soldiers she had come into town with sitting on the hotel’s wooden step. She planned her words carefully and sidled up to him. She smiled sweetly and gave a contented sigh for good measure. “It is such a nice morning, don’t you think, Private?”

“It is, ma’am. It sure is.”

“Do you think the rebels are near? Could they suddenly march in here? I’m probably being silly, but I have to admit that I’m a little nervous with this being my first time outside the fort without Major Bernstein.”

The soldier gave a vehement shake of his head. “Don’t you worry none about them rebels, ma’am. They ain’t got a snowball’s chance in hell of getting into this town. We got men on that main road leading north, and we got men all the way east of here to the north of Hampton. They ain’t gonna show their faces round here in a hurry.”

Mercy smiled again. “Thank you. And how far is Yorktown from here?” 

“Well, let’s see. I reckon it’s about thirteen miles northeast of here, give or take.”

“Oh, I feel so much better knowing that. I would just hate it if those bad rebels were to come here and ruin everything. I suppose our brave soldiers are spread out all the way from here to Yorktown?”

“No, ma’am, we ain’t got the whole distance covered. The rebels have got some of Warwick Road some miles up.”

“Nonetheless, I’m grateful to you for putting my mind at rest. I feel safe enough to take my stroll now. May I fetch you something from the haberdashery store?”

The private tipped his hat and gave her a toothy grin. “That’s mighty kind of you, ma’am, but I ain’t got a hankerin’ for nothin’ except a hot bath and a pot of coffee. Don’t you stray too far now. I reckon we’ll be leaving in a short while.”

She thanked the private again and walked towards her horse. She patted the horse’s neck and looked towards the boarding house. The wagon was still being unloaded, but the soldier was right; it wouldn’t be long before the group returned to the fort.

She stared at the road leading out of town. The moment she rode away, her friendship with Isaac and Nelson would be over. There was no going back to the fort later. Gone would be dinners and conversation with Isaac, her special friendship with Nelson, and her ties to Camp Freedom, being set up for Negro runaways. Jacob is worth it, she told herself. She would give up everything and everyone in the fort to have the feel of Jacob’s body next to hers. He was her future.

She swallowed hard and took the horse’s reins in her hand.
Enough, Mercy!
she thought with a strengthened resolve.
Just get on that bloody horse and stop thinking about it!
She led the horse to the corner of the street and prayed to God that no one was watching her.

At the far end of the fields, which stretched for a mile, was Lina’s grave. The fields and woods beyond the graveyard were not hospitable to wagons, which meant that it would probably not be occupied by the army. It was hilly, and she was sure the ground would be soggy after recent rains.

These fields eventually stopped and met a dense wooded area, the same one she had travelled through with Lina and Seth the night they died. The thought of travelling that route again was terrifying. Grief still caused her eyes to fill up every time she thought about that night. She mourned Lina’s death. She also thought about Seth, the young man running towards freedom, and the two soldiers she had killed. She could not conjure up remorse for shooting them – she just couldn’t.

The journey with Lina that night had been difficult with the wagon, but it would not be so complicated now, on a horse. There would be plenty of cover should she spot a patrol. It would skirt Warwick Road for a good few miles and, with a bit of luck, would bypass the Federal’s defensive lines altogether. She believed that if she remained in the woods for as long as possible, she might just come out on the northern side of them. Then her only challenge would be not getting shot by Confederacy troops on the outskirts of Yorktown.