Dark Chaos (# 4 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (78 page)

Moses leaned against a tree and munched on a biscuit even though he had lost his appetite.  The episode today had pointed out to him once more, in graphic detail, just how far his people still had to go.  They may have been mustered into the army out of dire need, but too many people still saw them only as animals, expendable when they were in the way or of no use.  He fought to control the bitterness swelling in his heart, knowing it would serve no purpose.  Giving in to bitterness would only mean another victory for Dahlgren.  His determination to help change things for his people forged into solid steel.  One day this war would be over.  Then the real battle would start.  Not the battle for a country – but the battle for equal rights for the blacks of America.

“Mount up!”

Moses scrambled to his feet as the order rang through the night.  It was time.  The five miles passed quickly as the road fell away before their horses’ galloping hooves.  Moses knew they must be approaching the outskirts of the city. 

A sudden burst of gunfire split the night. 

“Forward, men!” Dahlgren shouted.

Moses leaned low over his mount’s neck and surged forward, his gun drawn and ready.  There was sporadic firing, then silence.

“Drove right through them,” one man crowed.  “Richmond is ours!”

Robert saw the line of men running toward them in the night.  He stepped out in front of them and held up his hand.  “Who goes there?” he called.

A young boy, barely fifteen by the looks of him, stopped and stared up at him wildly.  “They’re coming.  They pushed right through our lines.”

Colonel Lee strode up.  “How far back are they?” he snapped.

“Not far,” the boy gasped.

Lee put a hand on his shoulder.  “You’re doing a fine job, son.  We’re going to stop them here.  Line up with our men.  Make sure your gun is loaded.”

Robert watched as the fear faded from the boy’s eyes, and his shoulders straightened with renewed confidence.

“Yes, sir!”

Lee turned to the men awaiting his orders.  “This is it, men.  We stop them here.”

A cheer rose in response to his words, then a grim silence descended.  Robert exchanged a somber glance with Thomas
and then took up his position beside him.  He knew exactly how outnumbered they were.  All he could hope was that the officer leading the Union cavalry didn’t have that information.  Tonight, the darkness was their friend.

The sound of thudding hoof
beats broke the silence.  Robert stiffened, his gun in a ready position.  He felt the proximity of the troopers before he actually saw them in the misty night.

“Fire!” Colonel Lee roared.

The explosion of gunfire rang out in unison. The charge stopped abruptly.  Sharp gunfire erupted from the Federal lines, but Lee had chosen fine defensive positions for his men.  The Local Defense unit continued to pepper the cavalrymen with deadly gunfire.  Robert could see men falling, their guns clattering to the ground.

“Retreat!”

“We stopped them!” Thomas called triumphantly as the troopers turned, then dashed back into the darkness, followed by the rousing cheers of the Local Defense. 

“They were counting on surprise.”  Robert watched the last dim shapes disappear.  “We spoiled it for them.”

“Will he try again?” asked a young boy close by.

“I don’t think so,” Robert said.  “He was counting on the element of surprise.  Now that
it has been spoiled for him, I think he will concentrate on getting his men out.  From the sound of things, the attack against the northern line was repulsed as well.”  He nodded with satisfaction.  “We stopped them.”

Moses watched several men fall around him.  He ducked as he felt a
bullet whiz by inches from his head.  He was firing, but in the darkness he really had no idea what he was firing
at
.

“Retreat!”

Moses clutched his rifle, spun his horse quickly, and urged him into a gallop, glad to leave the blistering gunfire.  Their attack had hardly been a secret.  It was obvious the city had been forewarned and was waiting for them.  He heard Dahlgren cursing, but he felt no sympathy for him.  The man deserved whatever he got.  It was the men following him that deserved the sympathy.

As they rode, the rain turned into a stinging snowstorm.  Moses pulled his coat closer and yanked his hat further down over his eyes.  His mind turned to the dead guide. Had anyone found him?  Had some of the slaves returned to cut his body down?  Somehow he didn’t think so.  Their terror had been complete.  They would have started running as soon as they were out of sight.  They wouldn’t stop until they had reached the plantations they started from.

“We’ll be lucky if we get out of here alive,” the trooper trudging beside him grumbled.  “General Lee himself is probably headed this direction.”

“Why weren’t we told the city was so well defended?” the one behind him added.  “That had to have been a regular line of infantry we ran into back there.  I wonder how many of our men we lost?”

“All I want to know,” another chimed in, “is how we’re going to get out of this mess.  We can’t just waltz back through Lee’s lines.”

“We’re headed east,” Moses said.  “I think the colonel is taking us to Fort Monroe.”

“We have any chance of getting there,” another trooper asked, “
before
we freeze to death?”

Moses would have chuckled if he wasn’t still gripped by the horror of the hanging.  He merely shrugged.  “Good a chance as any, I guess.  It will take us about two hard days of riding to get there.”

“Great,” a soldier groaned.  “I wonder if I’ll still be able to feel my body by then?”

Moses grimly hoped that he couldn’t.  He clearly remembered the pimpled, blond-haired kid
’s cheers when the guide was lynched.  He clinched his teeth and stared straight ahead.  He had to keep his thoughts to himself.

The long night passed slowly.  The snow contin
ued to drive at them mercilessly, icy pellets hitting their bodies and driving into their faces.  Moses kept his hat pulled as low as possible, but it was impossible to completely protect his head.  To make the time pass, he thought of Rose and John.  He could envision them in their little cabin huddled beside the fireplace on a night like tonight.  He longed to be there to hold John, to put him to bed, to watch his little body snuggle down into the blanket.

He shook his head.  He had to think of something else before the longing for what he couldn’t have consumed him.  He was holding on to the hope they were indeed headed to Fort Monroe, and that he would have a chance to see his family before he returned to his men.  In spite of the late snowstorm, spring wasn’t far away.  The year’s new campaign would start soon.  Just a glimpse of his wife and new son would make it a little easier to bear another long separation.

A sudden shout in the distance caused him to jerk his head up.  Pushing his hat back, he tried to see into the blinding snow.  The sharp report of guns floated back to him on the breeze.  He frowned, unsure of what to do.

“What’s going on up there?” a soldier shouted.

They all plowed to a halt as the sound of gunfire continued.  Minutes later a trooper, his head bare and his coat stained with blood, raced by them.  “It’s an ambush!” he yelled.  “They’ve killed Dahlgren.  Most of the men are surrounded.”  Whipping his horse, he disappeared into the night.

“Let’s get out of here!” two of the men surrounding Moses yelled.  They turned abruptly and disappeared into the driving snow.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE

Moses watched the two terrified men disappear.  He pitied them; they had no idea where they were and no idea where they were going.  They would be hopelessly lost in the snowstorm in just minutes.  He took several deep breaths and tried to think clearly.  The gunfire had stopped, so there was no pitched battle taking place.  He had
been riding near the end of the column, and now he found himself completely alone.  The snow was falling heavier, deep drifts lining the road.

Carefully he considered his options.  He could charge ahead to see what had actually happened, or he could do what many others had done and simply disappear into the snow, hoping for the best.  Moses had an advantage over most of them.  He wouldn’t have to head much f
arther east before he would be in familiar territory.  He scowled, wishing he could see through the thick whiteness surrounding him.  Had Dahlgren really been killed?  Why was there no shooting?

Moses sat quietly for se
veral minutes, then, with a wistful glance east, he swung off his horse and looped the reins over a nearby branch.  He couldn’t just ride off without knowing what had happened.  There was little chance his presence would make any difference, but he had to know.  Slipping quietly through the woods, eyeing landmarks keenly so he wouldn’t get lost himself, he edged forward, every sense alert.  He felt their presence before he actually spotted the three Confederate soldiers mounted on their horses just below a slight rise.  Moses froze and sank down slowly until he was level with the ground.  Heart pounding, he tried to discern his next move. 
              “You reckon there’s any more of them out there?” one soldier asked, his voice floating dimly through the snow.

“I
f there are, they’re lucky,” another scoffed.  “We’ve got over a hundred men surrounded up there.  That fellow leading them is deader than a skinned possum.  We’ll be escorting them boys to prison in the morning.”

Moses bit his lip when he heard of Dahlgre
n’s death.  He tried to feel sorry, but he could still see the guide swaying from the end of the rope.  He couldn’t help feeling justice had been done.  Dahlgren had schemed up an impressive plan – a brilliant one if it had worked.  But it had failed miserably.  The dashing colonel was dead.

“They were plumb crazy thinking they could just waltz right in and take our city.  I heard they were hoping to free the prisoners.  Looks like them boys just added to the number.”

Moses had heard enough.  Dahlgren’s men were surrounded.  There was nothing he could do.  Suddenly a limb, concealed by the snow, snapped under his heavy weight.  Moses cringed and froze.

“What’s that!” one of the soldiers yelled.

“Probably nothing,” another guard replied.  “But just in case…”  A shot rang out.  Moses sucked in his breath as a bullet landed just feet from where he stood.  He knew the snow was too thick for the men to see him.  It was just a lucky shot.  He remained still, knowing any movement might give his position away.  Ten minutes passed - long minutes when his feet started to turn numb and his hands hurt from the cold.

“Told you it wasn’t anything,” the soldier called ag
ain.  The three resumed talking.

Moses waited another few minutes then melted into the darkness.  When he reached his horse, he swung into
the saddle and headed east.  He would head for Fort Monroe.