A Starbuck novel
By: Lee's Ghost
Chapter 1
Disclaimer: I don't own the Starbuck Chronicles or any of Bernard Cornwell's wonderful characters (I wish I did but I don't)
The tents of the Faulconer Legion looked oddly still in the morning's breeze. A few men sat at the coals of abandoned campfires playing poker or talking happily amongst themselves. It was silent morning, too silent.
Or at least that's what Major Nathaniel Starbuck thought as he sucked on a waterlogged cigar. Gazing at the Pennsylvania landscape before him there was a welling in his harsh heart as he thought at last he had come north again; but not in a joyous sprit but under the blue crossed flag the Confederate army.
There was a squeal of a Fiddle behind him as a man began to play Cumberland Gap but no up beat music would shake him from his depression. "What you thinkn' about sir?" asked Captain Thomas Truslow resting a mug of coffee on his knee.
"Maybe I joined the wrong army," he said gloomily while rolling his cigar in his small hands.
"Naw, you didn't sir, and I think we've all thought about deserting," Said Truslow smirking at his Company.
"It not that, I haven't been this far north since I left Boston. And if we beat Abe what's stopping us from going straight into Masseuses,"
Truslow spat a long stream of tobacco juice into his weak fire and sighed. "Look boy you've been wear'n that gray coat for three years now, if your still unsure what t' do your in the wrong place."
Starbuck berried his head inside his slouch hat and tried to imagine what life would be like if he invaded Boston. The seen unfold in his mind's eye. Riding a black stallion with the crossed banner high above him, he would march the legion passed father's church and his family would rush to him tears in their eyes. Starbuck rolled his head to one side pushed the vision away.
There was the noise of a horse's hooves and he turned to face this new comer. It was a staff officer. There was brown piece of parchment clasped in his skinny hand. The man jerked hard on his reins and raised a white glove in salute.
"Major Starbuck?" asked the man in a cautious voice.
"You found 'em," stated Starbuck somewhat annoyed.
"I have note from Lee himself."
"What does he want now?" Asked Starbuck his noise flaring as he spoke. The man pushed the paper into Starbuck's hand and rode over the hill.
To all my regimental commanders,
You will head to Gettysburg Pa with all the speed you can muster. I am aware of a shoe factory and we will take what we need.
Gen. R.E. Lee
Starbuck formed his men in a long snake like column. His head and back seemed lighter. He sang as he marched because at last they were going somewhere.