The feel of the polished teak wood door is smooth under his finger tips. Cold iron interrupts the smooth flow as he his fingers reach the heavy lock on the door, to which he has no key. She lies on the other side, spending her day's rest in quiet, safe solitude. Something stirs inside him, a warming sensation, he equates it to satisfaction.

Turning from the door, he moves slowly, the lethargy of fighting the sunrise weighing heavily on him, sapping his will, but he will not face the daymares yet, those will wait. He must set things in motion.

May 10th 1863.

My Dear Amanda,

It has been a long time since I had an opportunity of writing to you, and I gladly avail myself of the present opportunity. I am not certain that I will have a chance of sending this but I will write a few lines any how and try and get it off to let you know that I am among the living.

"I do not care what it takes! This must be done!" Cahill slams his hand on the table, the man servant before him jumping just slightly. Cahill grabs up the quill and begins writing furiously.

We have been on a raid into Ms. but I have not time to give you the particulars of our trip. I will write in a few days if I can get a chance to send it and write you a long one. I just came off of picket and found the boys all writing to send by a man that has been discharged who is going to start home this morning. I was quite sick three or four days while in Mo. but have entirely recovered. We captured a good many prisoners while in Mo. and killed a good many. We went up as high as Jackson 8 or 10 miles above Cape Girardeau. I must say we were so close to home, I could smell your perfume on the air, my dearest; it took all my will not to spur my horse and ride directly to you. If this war were not so important; if a man was not bound by duty . . .

"You get this message to Mr. Calhoun. The Shadow Court will convene, someone knows who this traitor is, I will find him for her. We are at WAR!" Cahill shoves the letter into the chest of one of his men, pushing him back with the fervor.

The Yanks found our raiding party and ambushed us. They swore we would not make it back to the Ark border, but my boys proved them to be badly mistaken, we are now here and with minimal loss. They are good lads, despite the fear I see in their eyes, they, like me desire more and more to go home.

I dream each night of you, your alabaster skin, your smile that banishes the sun, your laughter that is sweeter then any honey our farm has ever produced . . .

"Your excuses are unacceptable!" Cahill rages at the man before him. "I want Emma found now! She is to attend me immediately!" Cahill strides across the room, grabbing the man up by the front of his shirt, slamming him against the wall. "Do you doubt what will happen to you if my wishes are not fulfilled?"

. . . I wish I had time to give you a full description of our trip. It would be very interesting to you I know; but you will have to put up with this little scrawl for the present. I am in hopes that I will get a whole package of letters from you in a few days. I never wanted to see you half as bad in all my life as I do now. I would give anything in the world to see you and the children. I have no idea when I will have that pleasure. We can't get any news here - do not know what is going on in the outside world. The boys will all write as soon as they get a chance to send them off.

The feel of the polished teak is cool to his touch as he runs his fingers down it, tracing the grain of the fine wood. His eyes closely examining the hinges, the locks, they must all be perfect.

"She must be kept safe. Nothing must happen to her, the past must NOT repeat itself," he says to the two men. "There will be no worse fate for you then the one I will devise if something goes wrong while I rest."

The two men nod solemnly, neither saying a word.

I must close for fear I do not get to send my letter off. Write often I will get them some time. I will write every chance, do not be uneasy when you do not get letters, for when we are scouting around as we have been it is impossible to write or to send them off if we did write. Give my love to the old Lady and all the friends. My love and a thousand kisses to my own sweet Amanda and our little boys. How my heart yearns for thou that are so near and dear to me. Goodbye my own sweet wife, for the present. Direct to Little Rock as -.

As ever your devoted and loving Husband, Lt. William J Cahill.

His eyes fall shut, he fights to keep them open, but the exhaustion settles on him as the sun lays its claim to the world. He feels the motion his body is put through, pushes to exert himself one last time, but the darkness claims him. As he sinks deeper into the dark, bloody arms reach out and embrace him and he holds her once more in his arms.

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