Chapter One

Jasper

Well the battle was over for now but the cost of victory had been high, too high. The dead and dying lay where they had fallen in the mud of the battlefield, the smell of gunpowder and blood hanging in the air along with the smoke. In the distance horses whinnied at the screams of those still suffering. There were no doctors here, no pain relief, nothing but a ragged tent where the surgeon would help those he could while the few orderlies gave the dying a last drink while the priest looked after their souls. Looking around I couldn't see Peter, he had been at my side when the fighting started but we had been separated as it spread out.

Checking on my men I was relieved that only two were dead although several were badly wounded and at least two were likely to succumb to their injuries during the night. I sent a group out to scour the surrounding countryside, I wanted to know where the Union soldiers who had survived had gone. My men needed time to recover, rearm, and eat and I saw the cook already had the camp fire burning and a pot bubbling on a tripod as the injured were brought in by friends and lined up on makeshift stretchers by the medical tent. From inside I could hear the groans and screams of the wounded as their injuries were treated, the sound of saw on bone making my stomach turn. The enemy who had survived, and there weren't many, were also brought into camp and those fit enough to dig were put on burial detail while the injured waited their turn for the attention of the surgeon. I knew other companies killed the enemy they captured but I wouldn't allow it. We were all fighting for something we believed in and as such they deserved the same treatment as my own men.

"Major, Major Whitlock."

I turned my horse and looked at the young boy who acted as our messenger,

"Yes?"

"Its the Captain, he's been wounded and the surgeon is asking for you sir."

Cursing I rode quickly to the medical tent and dismounted throwin' Thunder's reins to the orderly who stood outside smoking his hands and clothes soaked with blood. Inside I saw Peter laying on a cot arguing with the surgeon who turned relieved to see me.

"Major I have no choice, the Captain's going to lose his life if I don't amputate that leg."

Peter looked at me eyes wide with shock and pain shaking his head frantically,

"Don't let him do it Jasper. I'd rather die than lose a leg, please."

I looked back at the surgeon,

"How bad is it?"

"A bullet nicked the femoral artery, I slowed the bleeding but I need to take the leg off so I can clamp the artery off higher up or he'll bleed to death."

"Is there no other way?"

"Well its the easiest, I could try sewing it up but if it starts bleeding again he'll die."

"Try anyway, he deserves a chance."

Peter looked at me smiling,

"Thanks Major, I knew you'd understand. How can I work the family farm if I lose my leg?"

Two weeks later I wasn't so sure I had made the right decision, Peter looked pale and winced as he moved holding himself upright on a wooden crutch and trembling with a combination of the effort and the fever he had been running. He couldn't fight any more and I was sending him home along with two others who had survived, one minus a leg and the other with his right arm blown off at the elbow. The war was almost over and we had lost. why keep them here any longer? I promised to go home as soon as I could and sent a letter home with Peter telling the family it was all over and I would be back to help on our farm soon.

I watched as the wagon drew up and orderlies helped the three men into the back for their long journey back to Houston shaking hands with each one before gazing after them until they disappeared behind the cloud of dust kicked up by the huge wooden wheels.

When we got the news in April that General Lee had surrendered we knew it was time to go home. There were still a few skirmishes but in one's and two's the men began the long march home to their loved ones. I waited for more orders watching over the last of the injured but nothing came and eventually I sent the last few with the surgeon to the closest hospital and set off for my home and family wondering if my sweet Amy had waited for me. I hadn't heard from her in months but that wasn't unusual, post was erratic to say the least. Still I would soon know and then I had to decide what to do with my life, the war was over but could I turn my back on the military to become a farmer like my father and grandfather?

In reality I had little choice. my older brother had been killed early in the war and my younger brother had a twisted spine and would never be able to take on the heavy duties required in farming . The family would be looking for me to stand beside my father and provide for them.

I had stripped off my jacket but I kept the rest of my uniform and as I rode lots of people came out with food and drink for me, sad that we had lost the war but proud we had fought so valiantly. I saw the effects of the war everywhere, burned out homesteads, skeletons of horses and cattle that had died or been killed to feed the soldiers and left behind, the hungry looking people who smiled and offered me their meager rations of food the best taken by marauding groups of ex soldiers or the Union army to keep them in their place. We may have lost the war but we hadn't lost our pride and I found myself riding my back ramrod straight whenever I saw anyone coming along the dusty tracks.

As I got closer to home I recognized some of the burned fields the crops blackened and useless but there were no people around, the homes I passed were empty and looked ransacked, doors hanging from one hinge, window shutters laying on the ground but thankfully no blood, no bodies and then I saw in the distance our farm, I was almost home yet I hadn't seen a soul in hours. I kicked my horse's sides and as he picked up speed I strained my eyes for a first sight of my mother or father but there was no one tending the few chickens and the meadows were devoid of livestock. The place appeared deserted and I kicked my horse into a canter worried now.

I jumped down at the front of the house and ran up the porch steps calling for anyone who might be there but the place was silent and deserted, the ashes in the grate cold and the only food in the house a loaf of mouldy and hard bread on the table. There was no sign of a struggle, no note telling me the family had moved for some reason. I ran through to the bedrooms but they were as if the family had just stepped out for a moment, clothes still in the chests, my little sister's rag doll on the floor in the room she shared with Mary my older sister. My room I shared with Samuel and the now dead John was just as eerily deserted with clothes folded neatly on the chair

Going back outside I checked the barn but it looked as it always did with one exception, the hay was gone and Samuel's crutch leaned at an angle against the wall just inside the door. Beyond the barn I discovered the reason for the strange silence and desolation. There were four mounds of earth, not fresh, with no flowers or markers to name those who lay beneath but I knew all the same. Something had happened to my family, something that resulted in their deaths, all of them except one, but who?. I fell to my knees grabbing clods of earth and holding them in fists tight with anguish. I bowed my head and wept, determined to find out what had happened and if necessary look for those responsible and take my revenge.