Preface:

"You wanted to see me, sir?" I asked, as I walked into his darkly lit office, too 6nervous to even draw in an even breath. When I did breathe, my breaths were shallow and jagged, not nearly enough to please my lungs. I was in too much shock to even consider taking deeper breaths, to try and seem composed. I knew that he probably could sense my anxiety, and that is what finally made me compose myself. Embarrassment was a great thing, at that moment. I was shocked that my voice had not cracked while announcing myself. I took little comfort in the fact that it was hard for anyone to be in his presence and not feel the power and control that radiated off him.

He was sitting at his large mahogany desk, scribbling notes onto a piece of paper in front of him. When he heard me, he looked up, his pale eyes absently distant for a second before they seemed to recognize me, and they held a sort of sorrow that I had trouble understanding. We had just won a battle, it was a day of celebration. A slight smile spread across his delicate looking face, contradicting the sadness that captured his eyes. He set the pen aside and leaning back against the matching mahogany chair. "Yes, of course. Come in, Major Whitlock." He motioned for me to leave the doorway. "Sit, sit. Relax, my boy." He flicked one soft hand towards a chair in front of the desk.

I hesitantly moved forward, and sat, keeping my hands tight to my side, more than a little intimidated by him. Who would not be? General Robert E. Lee was a influential, strapping man who, in one glance, could be describe only as extreme. I was fortunate that he seemed to like me, as a person and a soldier. I had only been in the Confederate Army for a year or two, having entered when I was seventeen. I was now nearing nineteen. General Lee had taken me under his wing, teaching me things he knew, and marveling in my natural leadership skills. I had moved higher in the rankings since I had entered, and I was now one of the most known, most respected, majors. Yet, I still fidgeted when faced with the man who was behind all of the Confederate's military. The genius behind most of the plans.

"Jasper, how long have you known me?" his tone was a little pained, I could tell this meeting was not just to talk about the old days.

Yet I went along. "Two years, almost." I said.

"I would say we're pretty good friends. I trust you with my life, as do thousands of other men." He said.

I nodded, slowly, still not quite comprehending what was happening. "Yes, I suppose you could say we were friends." I kept my tone neutral. I was lying. I did not consider him my friend, I considered him my idol. I looked up to him; I wanted to be like him. I wanted to have the respect of my country, the love of them also… Not the fear, as others would want to inflict, had they enough supremacy.

"And friends do other friends favors." He said.

I could only bob my head once more, shortly. I knew it; he wanted me to do something for him. I knew, also, that no matter the task I would certainly do it. Even if it was to jump in the line of fire in front of him.

He nodded this time, in understanding, but kept nodding as he seemed to be wrapped up in his thoughts. He picked up a frame that was on the edge of his desk, facing him, and passed it to me. "That's my niece, Elisabeth. Beauty, isn't she?"

I stared at the image, in a few seconds getting the all the details. A girl, ten or eleven. The photograph behind the thick glass was in black in white ink, of course, but I could tell. Her hair was white, her eyes were white, and her skin was white. All of the made me guess that she had light hair, light eyes, and pale skin. The dress she was wearing came up to her throat at the neckline, and down to her wrists on her arms. The picture cut off at her waist, so that was all I could see. The background was one of those painted one, and it was of a lake. I nodded again.

"Of course, she's a little older than that now. She lives in Atlanta." He informed. "Not completely alone, she lives with a few of the workers. Yes, workers, Jasper. I refuse to call them slaves… Did I ever tell you that my wife is incapable of bearing children?" he asked.

"No, sir, I don't believe you have." I said.

"Jasper, Jasper, please. Robert. Call me Robert." He gave me a short, tight smile. His eyes were still troubled, as he took the picture back from me and stared at it, tracing the outline of the little girl. "Beth's parents, my brother and his wife, died when she was little. In a fire. She was around seven, and she saw it. Her mother, Jane, pushed her out of the house while the flames spread. Then Jane ran to wake up my brother, screaming his name, and then the house just collapsed. Or, that is how Beth remembers it.

"She fainted, and when she woke up she was with us, in Virginia. She is like my own. I think of her as my daughter, not my niece." General Lee sighed, the looked at me. "She… I wonder, Jasper, if you realize what Sherman is doing…"

"Attempting to burn down the South." I said. I was not unaware of the situation at hand, and I was beginning to grasp what General Lee was hinting at. His niece, living in the South, directly in the path that was being burned. I supposed, at once, he wanted me to either move or protect this girl, who was too precious to be lost.

"Not attempting, my boy, he is. He is heading for Atlanta. Where my darling Beth is."

My assumptions were confirmed by those words, but I asked away. "You want me to protect her, sir?"

"Yes. And no. I want you to watch over her, and… Oh, I do not know. Make sure she does not get hurt. And at the first sign of fire in Atlanta, get her out of there. Jasper, I trust my life to thousands of men every day… I would trust her's to no one but you." his voice was soft and full of emotion. I knew he was being sincere.

I was flooded with feelings myself. Honor… pride… and love. I loved the old man. Not in the way that I would love a woman, but in the way I would love a father. He was a great man, and he needed- no, wanted- my help. "Of course." I said, with a small smile. This girl would be the center of my attention, I would never be too far away that I could not help her if she needed it. She would be my only focus from now on.

"You will?" he did not sound shocked or hopeful; he sounded like he wanted my pledge to do so, as if my first words were not enough confirmation.

"Yes." I let my smile spread wide across my face, and watched gleefully as a mirrored smile spread on his older, wiser face.

"Major, you are a great man. I admire that." His smile faded a little. "There is a slight condition you need to know about…" he rubbed his neck.

I just raised an eyebrow coolly, waiting.

"She can not know that I sent you. Or that I asked you. She has to be completely unaware. My Beth is stubborn and hotheaded, and she has this idea in her head that she can take on the world if the need to arrives."

"Understood, General. I will do my best."