Chapter III- By Draft
In the morning
the soldiers were up early and on their way. The rebels’ location was about thirty
miles due west of there and they could reach it by nightfall if they marched at
a fast pace, provided the rebels didn’t run. Lucas had no doubts Jakin could
keep up, but he did wonder in what condition Jakin would be by nightfall. He
need not have worried although. The wound was a mere scratch to Jakin but his
bandage was soaked with blood by the time they made camp. The rebels had flown
of course, retreating southwards along the River Ryn. They received the news at
around noon, when Captain Richard Wilson reported to Garfield. Garfield
directed the course south west and quickened the pace. It was impossible to
even catch the rebel infantry; much less the light and elusive rebel cavalry. The
rebels had withdrawn to the town of Acacia which was twenty miles from the
place Garfield’s men had stopped for the night. Chasing them would be useless,
but nevertheless, the chase began again on the morrow, with different parties
branching off from the main body to try and surround the rebel troops.
At about noon the second day a scout
from Wilson’s company which had left as a scouting party came in and reported
to Garfield that the rebels were cut off in a valley at the foot of Cedar Hill.
?? The Captain halted the troops for a moment while he withdrew with his two
lieutenant captain into a grove of tries at the head of Garfield’s force. Jakin
and Lucas waited patiently outside under the blazing summer heat. After awhile,
Lucas said, “What’s taking them so long?”
Jakin plucked a piece of grass up
and began chewing on the end. “They are stuck. They have two options. They
don’t know whether to try and attack the rebels or to besiege them in the
valley and wait for reinforcements from Willow. If we attack without
surrounding them, they’ll slip through our fingers like sand. If we besiege
them and wait for reinforcements, they might make a surprise attack and flee in
the panic of midnight.”
“What’s the third?”
“Well I doubt
the third has occurred to them. They should surround the rebels completely with
light infantry and then charge them with their heavy cavalry. Then they’ll be
trapped.”
Lucas thought for a moment and then
said, “Yes, and then the heavy infantry could follow the cavalry in and the
baggage train could also provide a blockade manned by pike-men.”
“My thoughts exactly, well, except
for the baggage train. I had thought of pike men but not of putting them behind
the baggage. It should still work although either way.”
Lucas clapped Jakin on the back.
“They should make you a captain. Then the war would be over in no time.”
“It’s not a war yet. We haven’t even
met on the field of battle yet. I would never take a commission anyway.”
“What?”
“I couldn’t ever
take a commission. It’s against my principles.”
“How?” asked Lucas, quite puzzled.
“As a soldier
Lucas,” Jakin began explaining in a patient voice, “and much more so as a
draft, I am commanded to fight, kill and destroy on the battle-field. As an
officer I would hold responsibility for the lives of not only my own men, but
the enemy troops. No longer am I the ordered, but the one giving orders. I
would be accountable for every patrol or scout I sent out, for every skirmish
party, for every order to battle and for every decision I make. That
responsibility is too great an honor and too great a burden for me to bear. My
conscience is uneasy as it is.”
Lucas thought for a moment. He could
not understand this speech of Jakin’s, (for indeed it was a speech for Jakin
who excelled at one word answers or orders.) For four years he had seen Jakin
slaughter men on the battle-field with pike, sword, pistol and bayonet, yet
when this subject of being an officer arose, Jakin shrunk back into a defensive
shell and began talking of principles and morals the like of which Lucas had
never heard. So my friend does have some principle, he thought to himself.
Lucas had lived with Jakin during the past years with some difficulty for Jakin
had always exhibited the utmost zeal in war. Now Lucas was encouraged by this
sign of conscience and principle in Jakin’s speech.
“This is all very strange,” Lucas
said with a winkled brow. “Forgive me, but I never thought you really had much
of a conscience. I always knew you would prefer not being in the army, but I
never guessed that you had any qualms over killing men in battle.”
“You do me an injustice Lucas. You have
established a false opinion of me and cut me down. I had thought that you
understood me and my principles, but it appears you do
not or at least did not until just
now.”
Lucas was a bit ashamed of his
previous words for he held Jakin in such a high position in not only his mind
but in his heart that he felt Jakin was right when he accused him of doing an
injustice to his character.
“I did not realize the depth of your
character. But I guess it is hard when one is as reclusive and defensive as
you.” he felt a strong urge to say this. Jakin had been so reclusive in the past
years Lucas had known him that it had not been very possible to break Jakin’s
defensive outer shell. But he still said it with great respect, his eyes on the
ground and his voice quiet.
Jakin nodded, “Of course. That is
how I survive. If I spoke my thoughts more often I would be killed for
treason.” He paused and added with a gentler and quieter tone, “I do not like
war, Lucas. I fight only because I was drafted and a strong watch is kept on me
at all times. I was I have felt their eyes, Lucas. I know they are watching me.
Many times I have considered escaping, but I am always watched. I would light out
for the hills at the first opportunity, they could never find me, but for some
reason they watch me. Not just Parson, but the captains, the lieutenants; different
people in the army from high position to low. Their eyes are on me Lucas. At
all times.”
“Why would they watch you?”
Jakin was silent
for a moment and then said quietly, “Even if I knew I wouldn’t tell you.” For
Jakin had developed a theory as to the reason why he was watched. An accurate
theory, but one that did not yet have all the evidence required to make it
complete.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
But Jakin was
not able to reply for the captains came out of the grove and announced their intentions
to drive the rebels out of the valley and over the ridge to the town of Quince
where, if all went well and a messenger got through, reinforcements from Willow
would be waiting. Jakin shook his head and shouldered his pack muttering, “They
should have surrounded them.”
Lucas smiled at his grumbling
against the captain’s incompetence and followed Jakin.
The rest of the
day was spent in a rapid march circling back eastwards to drive the rebels
towards Willow. The forests and greenery of eastern Glasgow had slowly risen
into grassy, sloping hills crisscrossed into a maze of interweaving dirt roads
traveled by farmers and merchant bands on their way to the capitol. When the
army was seen approaching the merchants stepped grudgingly off the road. As in most
countries governed by tyranny, the army was not well liked, but it was feared
and that fear demanded respect.
When Garfield reached a merchant
band he signaled to Parson and others to inspect the merchant’s goods. In every
instance something was found ‘wrong’ with the merchandise and their goods which
would be profitable for the army were confiscated and the merchants fined.
Jakin set his teeth and Lucas realized that this was one of those occasions he
had spoken of where it was best for him that he did not talk.
When the army proceeded along its
way, the baggage horses bore an extra load and extra coins jingled in the
pockets of certain favored officers. Jakin was disgusted.
They continued on though, with the
sun beating down on them and dust signaling to anyone atop the hills that an
army of some size was traversing the plains. Jakin held the officers in all the
more contempt for this. They should have walked in the grass and proceeded in a
single column to hide their numbers. For a while they marched in silence, sweat
dripping down their backs and necks and drenching their clothes. After some
time Jakin felt a growing sense of uneasiness. He moved along the marching
lines at a fast walk which broke into a run towards the officers leading the battalion.
He ran to the front and held the bridle of Garfield’s horse. “Sir, we’re
walking into a trap.”
Garfield
was indignant at Jakin’s lack of respect and pulling back on the reins,
attempted to rear his horse. But Jakin held onto the reins and the horse would
not move. Garfield kicked it with his spurs but under Jakin’s firm hand the
horse only snorted and kicked up its back heels. Garfield was not unseated, but
he stopped kicking the horse. “What do you mean?” he asked sharply.
Jakin saluted and replied, “The
small canyon we’re entering is lined with rebels sir.”
“Impossible. I
was assured they would run.”
Jakin gave a scornful smile. “They
didn’t. Their numbers are easily as large as ours and the canyon affords
adequate protection for taking on a force twice their number. As a captain you
should be very well aware of that.”
The lieutenant captain raised his
pistol and struck Jakin on the head with it. Garfield reproved him harshly.
Blood ran down the side of Jakin’s head but he was indifferent.
“It would be best if you either
skirted the canyon or proceeded with great caution.”
A smile
flickered at the corners of Garfield’s mouth. “What’s your name and rank?”
“Jakin, Private.” Jakin saluted and
clicked his heels. He knew how to behave in the presence of officers although
often his indignation prevented him.
“How long have you been in the
army?”
“Four years.”
“Impressive.”
“I was a draft,”
said Jakin. “War was not my first choice.”
“But you are proud to serve your
country nonetheless.”
“Sir, time is
wasting,” said the lieutenant, saving Jakin from an uncomfortable position
wherein his principle would force him to say ‘no’ to the Captain’s last
statement.
“I agree with your lieutenant.”
The captain gave
a shocked expression at their audacity to speak to him in such a way, but he
knew they were right. “What would you have us do, young Private Jakin? Since
you seem to know so much. ”
“I would have surrounded the canyon
with the light infantry, thereby cutting off their escape over the ridge. Then
I would have formed up two wings of heavy infantry to follow in the heavy
cavalry in a charge into the valley. None of the enemy would escape. Or at
least very few if the attack was carried out properly. But it may be too late
now.”
“How can you be sure the rebels are
even there?”
Jakin realized
that he could never convince the captain the he had ‘felt’ their presence and
the minute signs he had seen along the way which confirmed his theory could not
be accepted by a man of logic. For the signs that will convince one who
believes do not always convince those who trust their reason over their heart.
“You will have to send a scout to
ascertain that fact. But if the scout is seen the battle is lost. I will go if
you order me.”
The captain although for a moment
and then asked, “Are you so sure you will not be seen?”
Jakin gave a
slight scoffing smile, “There is no guarantee of that, but most of the men in
my company will affirm that I am the most suited for the job.”
“A little proud are we not?”
“No sir, I
simply state the truth. No man has spent more time in the mountains of Carrock
then I and no man has spent more time tracking animals and enemy troops through
the plains, mountains and valleys than the one who stands before you.” This was
not Jakin’s usual manner of speech but he knew that pride and confidence was the
language of the mighty. (Although in Jakin’s mind the ones who were mighty were
not the ones who held high positions. Mighty here refers to captains and the
like who considered themselves as mighty.)
“Very well, you may go. Do you
require a companion or a pistol?”
Jakin moved
aside the grey army cloak tucked into his belt and revealed the brace of
pistols. “As for a companion, I work better alone. I will be back in an hour.”
Although the captain knew that the
valley was wide and the ridges difficult to surmount and travel along, he felt
that that would not change the mind of the young man before him and he felt
that the man was perfectly indifferent to that difficulty. “Go then, and return
speedily.”
Jakin felt a thrill of excitement
and longing rush through his body as he reached the edge of the steep wall of
the canyon to the right of the entrance. This canyon wall went nearly straight
up for about fifteen feet and then sloped slightly to decrease the angle of the
climb as it ascended past straggly cedars and brush which struggled to maintain
the survival of its roots foundation, placed so precariously in the loose dirt
and gravel which made up the sloping sides. Jakin spat on his hands as he
reached the wall, and placing his hands in two crevices in the rock, pulled
himself up. His feet found a firm place to support his body and they came up
also. His hand sought another jut of rock which would aid him in his climb and
his feet walked vertically up the side as he pulled himself up by the strength
of his arms. The work was hot and sweaty for he wore his grey cloak to better
disguise his movements but as the time passed and the sweat poured down his
back and neck he was less and less sure if it was worth it. At last he
surmounted that first cliff and began crawling up the second one, grasping at
roots and outcroppings as he progressed up its side. Once he was close to the
top he crouched and moved along the outside of the ridge cautiously to avoid
being seen by anyone on watch in the valley below. It would have taken a keen
eye to spot him from the valley. His movements were jerky and stopped
altogether after a few seconds, just like a squirrel or a rabbit trying to
cross a field without attracting any attention from the dog lying half-asleep
on the porch.
It is important before we go any
further to explain how this valley was situated. On the provided map that was
given you at the beginning of the book you will see the town of Willow, approximately
50 miles south-west of Kenneth. To the east of the town is a valley surrounded
by sloping rocky hills, not of any considerable height, which sloped up and
down and spread out in a haphazard fashion. These are the slopes which the army
had passed to the north of the day before and were now retracing their steps,
but instead of skirting them, they were now proceeding through the heart of
them towards Willow. The valley or canyon so often referred to lay straight
between them and Willow and it lay right at the heart of three overlapping
mountains. Two ran nearly east-to-west and one ran north and south providing a
barricade between the rebels and Willow.
Jakin traveled along the left hand,
east-to-west ridge, crouching at some places, sprinting in others and leaping
over steep and narrow cracks which provided a path for springs or creeks. The
valley was not more than a mile wide and a mile long so it was not long before
Jakin sighted the rebels. He pressed on however, urged by a wild thrill of
adventure which caused him to approach the rebels in a manner which was
unreasonably dangerous. The rebels appeared to making camp, and since Jakin
still had thirty minutes to get back he stayed on and watched, scooting closer
and closer to the officers’ tents. The guard around these was quite slack and
Jakin could have run up and touched the tent without being noticed. He almost
did just for the fun of it, but just as he was ready to spring for it, a man
who appeared to be the rebel commander came out of the tent with a tall young
girl by his side.
Jakin was surprised to see her there
but even more surprised to see her with a gun slung on her shoulder. They
walked away from the tent and the camp and Jakin followed. It was a rash deed
at the very least but Jakin thought he could manage. The commander stopped
behind one of the other tents and Jakin got a good look at them both from the
cover of a group of horses standing tied beside each other. The horses reminded
him of the one he used to have when he was up north in Carrock Range. He had
left the horse in one of the mountain valleys and hoped to reunite himself with
it once the war was over. He turned his attentions to the commander and his
daughter though.
The commander was evidently her
father, for their talk was very affectionate and he was certainly old enough.
His hair was streaked with grey but his face showed a lightheartedness that
Jakin was not accustomed to. He wore nearly the same uniform the Glasgowian
commanders wore and the only real difference was the dark red badge he wore
around one shoulder which indicated he was a rebel.
His daughter wore a light green
dress with a dark red sash around the middle. Her hair was of a dark brown
color and hung about her shoulders in wavy folds. Their conversation was
interrupted by the arrival of a young commander who Jakin assumed was one of
the two captains, Nathaniel Greene, or Richard Lindsey. At that moment the
rebel general spoke, addressing the young man. “Captain Nathaniel, anything to
report?”
“Horatio’s army is camped outside
the canyon. His soldiers have not yet started making camp. By some strange
stroke of luck they were dissuaded out of entering the canyon. We have a watch
posted on them at this moment.”
“Hmm,” said the general doubtfully.
“It’s too bad they didn’t enter the valley, but I guess it’s just as well.
Perhaps there is another fate prepared for them.”
