A/N: Thanks for reading/reviewing guys...here's the next chapter!
Zechs arrived during the afternoon and by four o'clock began to position his troops near the Evenes Turnpike. The soldiers stood in awe of the eccentric general. Men gathered around Zechs' horse as he rode into headquarters that night. His "foot cavalry", now placed along the East Woods and the White Church, were weary but their spirits remained high. Zechs wanted to report that to Treize as soon as possible. Heero met him on horseback in front of the stone house.
"What do you think of him?" Filthy, Duo had finally returned, reigning in behind his commanding officer, then walking his horse to find Relena. He searched for her as soon as he was off duty, and found her in a chair outside her tent. A campfire a few feet away illuminated her face, giving her an unearthly glow. She still wore the green gown, which shimmered almost black in the night.
"Heero is much more impressive than Zechs."
The captain smiled, wholeheartedly agreeing that his general warranted more praise than any other. "I heard tell that Zechs raises one hand in the air while he rides, to keep the blood circulating."
"And that he eats lemons, and sits up straight to make sure his organs are aligned."
"How did you know that?" The smile left his face.
"I read alot. He's as famous where I come from as he is here. I'm glad to see you, Duo"
Another broad grin. "I've been out since this morning, helping Heero. I thought I should make sure you're alright. There was some pretty heavy fighting earlier."
Relena was pleased that her status as prisoner was easily dismissed. The aide acted as if she was a military attache or special camp visitor. "You've been gone all day. The sun set ages ago. Have you eaten?"
"We stopped and took rations. How about you?"
"Duo." Heero rode between them. "I need your help. Some cavalry horses broke loose and are making their way over the hill. Help me rope them in until someone comes for them."
"Yes, sir." He shrugged at Relena. "I have to go. If I don't see you, sleep well. And get to the stone house as soon as you can tomorrow. I don't know what time the fight will start, but I guarantee you it will be early."
"Alright." She stood and crossed her arms over her chest, a shiver passing through her body at the mere mention of the word 'battle'. "Be careful."
"Duo!" Heero called.
The herd of horses galloped over the hill and into the camp of the First Corps. They knocked over a line of laundry that was stretched to dry over tree limbs, and fresh coffee, stolen from a Alliance artillery unit, that was cooking over a fire. Men scurried back and forth, in every direction, dodging the wild beasts. Neighs, whinnies, and snorts, along with the clip-clop of hooves as the horses tore through the camp, made it all but impossible to hear. Heero, Duo, Trowa, and Quatre finally managed to corral them all onto one small piece of land behind Hilde's house. Soldiers whooped and yelled, many leaning toward one another to put money on the horse that would get away.
Relena took the opportunity to slip into Heero's vacant tent. She recognized her leather-bound book on his cluttered desk and took it with some pencils back to her own tent. Lighting a melted-down candle by her bed, she began to write all that she could remember from the past two days.
Time escaped her, so captivated was she by her newest project, her story, perhaps the most interesting one the New England papers would get: a Northern woman surviving behind enemy lines. It was vital that she put everything down. As the companies, brigades, and divisions assembled throughout the day, it had occurred to her the possibility of what she would witness. If she could describe the pickets who had captured her, the general and his staff, and the horror of the battles, all the generations which came after would know.
September 15, 1852: Minding my own business when I was captured by Rebel soldiers. Their tattered, torn clothing suggested only poverty, as I did not know then who they were or where I was. Rifles, long and dark, smelling of gunpowder were jammed in my face. The group of shabby men led me, my hands bound, into a camp. The morning sun was just rising, its eastern rays blanketing the trios of men doing their chores, shaving, stretching...
Another turn of the page.
September 16, 1862: I awoke to the sound of shell and musket fire. A depressed feeling washed over me as I realized I was still in the camp of my host. Before the first full light, a cannonball flew overhead...
The notebook, like the cannonballs of that morning, flew in the air, and landed with a keen smack against the side of the tent. Pages fluttered and were folded underneath one another on the ground.
Heero stood above her, furious. "I trusted you! General Treize trusted you! Yet you still betray us by writing in that damn book!"
Relena slowly backed away from the anger aimed in her direction, taking cover behind a chair. "How many times do I have to tell you, I am not a spy! I was writing a journal!"
"Am I going to have to lock you up?"
"Don't you dare!" She hissed.
He moved toward her. "Don't you see? What you're doing is considered treason!"
"Writing in a journal is not considered treason and stop yelling at me!" She began to cry.
He went to her. She was half-scared and half-angry and it showed on her expressive face. Each time he looked upon her, she was more beautiful. How fine she looked in the dress he had bought. "Then why, Relena?"
"Just look at the book. Look at it."
Skeptically, he retrieved it, shaking it of dirt and grass. A moment passed before he could tear his eyes from her face, but finally he began to read. "I don't understand. How could you not have known you were in my picket line if..."
"If I was a spy?" Her breath still came in sobs. "I would have asked you for the book, but you were too busy with the horses, so I went to your tent and took it back myself. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have gone in there without your permission."
"Relena, I don't know if I want you to have the book back." Heero shook the book in the air; the pages flapped like a flag caught in a strong wind. "There may not be anything of value in it now, but how am I to know what you write in it later? Especially after what may develop tomorrow?"
She watched him, so passionate in his leadership. He was not power-hungry; he didn't seem to wield his influence as a Rebel general like an axe against a tree trunk, but he stood by his convictions and somehow, Relena admired him for that.
She had been trapped behind the lines of a people who stood for something completely different than she did for less than twenty-four hours, but she felt oddly comfortable. Relena walked to the the gruff soldier. Tentatively, she placed her delicate hands on his arms. "Can't you try to trust me? I'm not a spy; I don't know the first thing about the military."
"That doesn't matter. You have eyes and ears and can easily write down what you see and hear. I have to be cautious."
Relena knew she was not going to win him over. There was too much of the skeptical soldier in him. He could not afford to let his guard down for fear of the one time he would be wrong.
"Get some sleep." He reluctantly handed her the book. "I hope to see you tomorrow--and I'm sorry I made you cry."
"Take care of yourself." She whispered, this time reluctant herself to let him go.
Suddenly, he took her in his arms and held her there for a moment--only a moment. Then Heero was gone.
