“It is not hopeless.”
“What?”
“You’ve seen war, and you know the evils that men can do to one another. Aye, and women, I’d bet—you know the words they say when they speak of the enemies that slaughtered their brothers and their sons. People can hate, and people can do terrible things even without hating. But haven’t you seen, Solomon? In war, you also see the best. It’s too rare, but it’s so blinding it hurts. Men who run into gunfire for their brothers in arms, the citizens who give food and care to their enemies. There are those for whom the darkness is no more than a passing thought. I have seen the worst, and I came to be a spy for vengeance. Every day I am humbled by the goodness and mercy in others’ hearts.”
“It is only one of many miracles. There is pity in the man who kidnapped your sister. There is uncertainty in the others. Who can say, but that they might let her go? Who can say if there will be a shadow, a birdcall, and we will be able to creep into their camp? Solomon, you wish to save those who are dear to you, and that itself is a miracle, an ordinary, everyday miracle. Do not lose hope that another might occur.”
Solomon stared, his eyes wide. On top of everything else, the woman was a poet, and one of faith, at that. If he had never heard her speak of God, still he could not doubt her faith in the goodness of the world. He remembered things he had hardly noticed before: the way she smiled at the dawn, the way she paused when birds leapt into the air as they rode.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” he said finally. He wondered, now: did she know? Could she possibly know that he had nursed Jasper back to health, and that the man had brought him back? She must know of Jasper’s defection, and yet perhaps she thought that it had been a coincidence.
He could not count on her ignorance; he knew that now, and every time he remembered it, it gave him a chill. She knew more than she was telling, that much he could say for certain. What she had put together, though...
“Stop looking so melancholy,” she said. She threw another branch onto the fire. “We need a plan.?
??
“Creep up on them while they’re sleeping?”
“They’ll expect that.”
“They’re expecting an attack, anyway. Even if you sleep with your gun by your hand, it’s difficult to clear the sleep from your head.”
“True. But I wonder...” She looked away.
“What?”
“Suppose we circled around them. Left now, pushed hard tonight, came up to catch them tomorrow, just before they bedded down. If they’re going where I think they’re going, they’ll need to head west sometime soon. We can get the sun in their eyes, and catch them at their most weary.” Her brow furrowed at Solomon’s expression. “What?”
“You should have been a general.”
“It’s one thing to have a clever idea once in a while, and quite another to manage thousands of men,” she informed him. But she was smiling, and could not quite hide it. She looked out into space and considered. “Besides which, then Jasper and Cecelia would both already be on horses.”
“Knox is never letting Cecelia go,” Solomon said, his heart twisting. The man, for all his discomfort at holding a woman prisoner, could have picked no better way to secure Jasper’s cooperation.
“He’s trying to keep her safe when she’s surrounded by vengeful soldiers. I should think he’d be glad of the option to get rid of her. I’m not saying he’ll just hand her over,” Violet said, exasperated, when Solomon raised an eyebrow. “But I’m saying it’s possible, if we get them at enough of a disadvantage. I don’t want to kill any more than you do.”
“What do you want?” Solomon asked her, and he could have sworn he saw her flinch.
“That’s not a fair question.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I didn’t make you a traitor, Solomon Dalton.” Any trace of warmth was gone from her face. “You’re not a law-abiding man facing down a robber. You’re a man who turned on the Union, and you expect me to look past it because you want to save your sister’s life? I’ll help you save her; that much I can do to make sure she doesn’t suffer, but I am not to blame for where you find yourself now. If it had not been me that came for you, it would have been another, and all of that is as it should be.”
“You do not know me.” How could he be so angry? His blood was pounding. She had said nothing he had not said to himself. Indeed, she had been less cruel than he had been in the months since he returned home. It bothered him that she should look at him and see treason when he knew she also saw honor. Desperation grasped him each time he realized that no smile, no rapport, would break her of her duty.
Desperation.
That was what this was. Only now, in the face of a death he had, to be honest, did Solomon see his own cowardice reflected back at him. Neither cowardice nor honor mattered anymore. He was going to go back and stand trial and hang for his crimes.
Chapter 12
Their pace the next day was so slow that Jasper and Cecelia were given leave to walk. What began as a delicious freedom after sore days in the saddle turned quickly to misery. Their sore muscles were much the worse for wear after the constant jostling, pinned in place by their hands tied to the pommels, and now each step jolted, sending shooting pains through them. Filthy socks and disused shoes had their feet bleeding before noon.
Jasper lagged, hoping they might be asked to ride once more. His head still ached fiercely, and the concussion filled him with nausea as he took each unsteady step but the men found his pain nothing more than amusing, and Cecelia was not inclined in the slightest to intervene on his behalf. Once as he stumbled, she merely stepped away so that he fell into the leaves and the muck, and he heard the soldiers laugh. When he looked up, her face was still as stone—and as cold.
As they sat around the campfire, Knox evidently decided to make an example of Jasper. He was hauled from his seat, Cecelia gasping and settling back when Knox motioned that she was not in danger. The next moment, Jasper found himself sprawled on the cold ground, and the toe of Knox’s boot turning him over.