Chapter 4 - Battles of War and Love

Death does not divide, death unites. It is life that violently separates us.

-Heinrich Heine-

24th of May 1813 - Camp of the "Army of the Center" at Youngstown, New York State on the shore of the Niagara River, across Fort George

Mike woke up startled by a nightmare. He couldn't remember much. Just flashes. There was a wedding, there was an unknown man, and there was a baby. The memory faded as quickly as mist in the sunlight, though he found himself barely able to breathe. Clutching his chest, he tried to orientate. He was in his tent. His three comrades still slept nearby. So he probably hadn't screamed. Mike tried to calm his breathing.

The past weeks had shown him the real face of war. It was nothing that could be called honorable or victorious. It was bloody and gruesome. If he didn't work for Rutherford as one of his private Brotherhood undercover soldiers but had joined the army the usual way he would be doomed to serve here until this war would be over. He was sorry for his comrades. The chance to die was high. In these three weeks, he had already lost count of the number of dead they had buried. The five the vampire had obviously killed were less compared to the number the war had cost on both sides. How useless this war was. It was all about the power of the high and mighty - like always.

But still, he had to find the vampire raging within their ranks. This was why he was here and he already had a solid lead on him. As luck would have it, it was one of the Lieutenants, but he could not just sneak in and kill him. He had to wait for a good opportunity and best before another soldier would die of blood loss.

But right now his whole body was still shaking from the stress the foreboding nightmare had left. With unsteady hands he lit the oil lamp, grabbing the pen and his notebook from his bag he began writing.

He was glad he didn't have to take a quill and ink at the moment - he would have messed up the whole letter. Bastian had given him this nice pen as a parting gift. He had been given it from a befriended Brotherhood member from England. It was a prototype but Mike saw exactly that it would be a revolution of writing soon. He started writing every day so far although he had only been able to send his letters a few times, then often five or more at once. They should have reached Diana by now.

24th of May, 1813 - Youngstown, New York State

My beloved Diana,

my mind keeps drifting night and day to you. I hope you are alright. I miss you. I miss your touch. I miss your smile, your laughter, and your smell. Maybe you were right and we should have run away. Now I'm here hundreds of miles away from you and I can't just leave.

I can not sleep. Tomorrow we're gonna go against Fort George. We're well prepared and my hopes are up we will win this battle, though soldiers on both sides will die for sure. But don't worry about me, my Love. The thought of you alone keeps me alive wherever I may be. It will carry my every step until I return to you.

In love,

Mike

Mike folded the letter and took the other five, and his report to The Guardian too. Walking out of his tent, he headed over to the tent of the dispatch rider. To his surprise, he saw light from inside. "Will? Are you up?" he asked, waiting outside.

"Yes, come in Mike," the boy answered, engaged.

Mike folded the tarp to the side to enter. He saw the boy packing hastily. "Hey, why aren't you sleeping?"

"Major General Dearborn wants these messages out before morning. I have to leave in less than an hour. What can I do for you?" The boy, barely fifteen, asked him, pointing at the letter in his hand. "Another letter to Captain Rutherford or your girl."

Mike grinned. "You are a bit nosy for a trustworthy dispatch rider, aren't you?" He tousled the boy's hair. "This one is for Captain Rutherford and these are for Diana Wilmington, Glastonbury, Connecticut," Mike said as always when he gave his letters to the boy.

"Don't you think I already know this?" the boy answered with a smirk.

"Yeah well, maybe others don't know, so I wrote it on the outside to make sure these will find their destination."

"They will. Trust me, Mike. No letter gets lost under my care," the boy took the package of letters and stored it in his bag. "Are you concerned - I mean about the battle?"

"Not more than before other battles we fought. Fear can be a friend too. It keeps you vigilant," Mike patted Will's shoulder "Good luck, my friend. Be careful on your way." He left the boy to his preparations and walked through the camp.

At this point, Mike had no idea how many steps it would take him to return to Connecticut.

*** EST ***

MIKE

At the beginning of the 25th, still in the dark, they began to bombard Fort George on the other side of the Niagara River. It was not until the morning of the 27th before they set over by boats to charge the Fort. The British were outnumbered 3 to 1 but fought fiercely. They had no chance to hold them out of the Fort.

Most of the Fort was already destroyed; only a few houses, and miraculously one magazine was still intact. They found some wives and children hidden inside it when they cleared it, ushering them out. Some of the British had barricaded themselves in one of the other buildings still intact.

Lieutenant Gallaway was one of the group leaders. He was the one Mike was after for so long. He hadn't killed in over a week. Even though all signs and his instincts told Mike he was the one, he still needed proof before sending this unholy creature to hell.

Gallaway shouted out to his soldiers," I need ten men to follow me on the west side, ten more will go with Lieutenant Bradley to the east side of the building. We'll smoke them out. Anyone who runs off will be killed.

Mike was quick to answer Gallaway's request. Maybe he would get his opportunity today. Soon they rounded the huge building. The first torches were thrown through the windows. The British opened fire to shoot their way out of the building. They tried to flee out to the west side towards Newark. His comrades to his right and left fell wounded by a shot. Mike felt the fear and adrenaline rushing through his body. They opened fire at the fleeing British and killed nearly half. The smoke made it almost impossible to see anything. Mike stopped firing. They had to reload. There was a shadow rushing by from behind him. Confused Mike tried to see what it had been. Then someone jumped on him. A Redcoat with a desperate warcry had slumped them both to the ground. Mike reacted instinctively. He drew his side blade quickly, stabbing his enemy in the side. He fought back to his feet grabbing his rifle with the fixed bayonet. The smoke still obscured his sight. Screams and fighting noises were all around him. Then a gust of wind cleared the air a bit, revealing one of theirs kneeling on the ground holding one of the Redcoats awkwardly in his arms. Mike approached the scene, already knowing who this must be. Gallaway turned his face with a blood-covered mouth toward him, revealing his fangs. They stared for a split second at each other, before the vampire discharged his victim in a swift motion to approach Mike. He had waited for this. Now it was time to kill the real enemy. The thick smoke soon hid their fight from the sight of the others.

Mike was sure he would stab and wound him at least with his bayonet but Gallaway just grabbed his rifle and pushed him aside, kicking him to the ground. Mike wasn't prepared for this amount of strength. Gallaway was over him in seconds. Mike gathered his wits and kicked at the vampire, bringing him to a fall. Gallaway quickly rolled over while Mike was about to grab his rifle again. Wiping the blood off his lips, Gallaway grinned at him. "So, Campbell, I knew something was special about you when you answered first for my request today. There was a gleam in your eyes. Now I see you are a hunter. Let's see how well you're trained."

Mike tried to block him with his rifle but Gallaway just held against it, pushing the weapon's broadside deeper down to Mike's chest. He was too strong! Damn, why was he this strong? He was not the first vampire Mike had killed. Something must be different with this one. Maybe it was because he had drunk blood right before their fight. He had no chance to think further about it. The pressure with which Gallaway pushed the rifle to his chest threatened to crush his ribcage. He already felt a sharp pain in his chest with every intake of breath. Gallaway's grinning face came closer. Once again he revealed his fangs. Mike fought for air, desperately lifting his chin in a reflexive motion. This was what the creature had waited for, the vampire dug his teeth deep into his throat.

Hot sharp pain together with a numbing feeling spread from the bite through his body. Mike wasn't able to fight back. This was his end. He had failed everyone. He had failed Rutherford, he had abandoned his Brothers, and most of all he had failed Diana. He had promised her not to die. He had sworn it!

Suddenly Gallaway was ripped away. Mike only saw a blurred blue uniform which was thrown to the ground next to him, the vampire over it now. Mike tried to breathe. He felt so tired. He must get up, he must kill him. This was his only chance to survive, to save more from dying by this unholy creature. 'God, give me the strength to be your weapon,' he prayed. Then he fought back to his knees, grabbing his side blade from the ground. Stumbling, he approached the monster who was about to suck out his next victim. With a last-ditch effort of his strength, he did a hard strike to Gallaway's head and cut it off completely. Mike clutched his bleeding throat, trying to stop the ongoing flow of blood from the wound. The man on the ground was dead. He had seen him before but couldn't recall his name.

Shouts echoed behind him. "He killed the lieutenant! Get him!"

Mike turned towards the shouts of his comrades. This was bad. They would hang him. He had to run. Turning, he tried to flee in the direction where the British soldiers had fled. He made it only a few yards when without warning a massive explosion burst the building apart, throwing everyone around off their feet.

*** EST ***

WADE

Wade had watched Diana since Mike's departure. She was worried, he could tell. Though her mood had unusual ups and downs. It took him a while of watching until he found out it had to do with the mail arriving at Wilmington farm. Diana always tried to get her hands on the mail first.

He had to talk to her. She didn't know about his plans to leave. He had waited as long as possible to make sure his father was doing well. Wade had thought his father would suffer a new heart attack that morning of May the 1st. Thank God, it hadn't gone that far. His mother was overly weary of his father's well-being since then. Though for a few days she seemed to be distracted otherwise. Everyone thought he was a spoiled unmarried firstborn without thinking much about being the heir of the Wilmington farm. But Wade was an attentive watcher. He saw most things coming, though this whole Mike-and-Diana-fiasco had caught him totally off guard.

Today he watched Diana through the window, waiting for the mail to be delivered in the yard. Every day, when she received no letter, she came in depressed and close to bursting into tears. He had to know what was behind that although he already had an idea.

Diana climbed up the stairs with disappointment. He waited until she passed him without even looking up.

"Di, we need to talk," Wade addressed his sister.

"Huh? Oh, Wade, it's you. What did you say?" she asked, barely looking at him.

Wade took her by the arm to get her full attention, "I said we need to talk."

Diana ripped her arm free, "What's wrong with you, I'm not a little child anymore. Let go of me!" She stormed off to her room, slamming the door closed in front of her brother.

Wade did not let go today. Pushing the handle of the door down he entered without permission.

Diana slumped down to her bed, turning her face away. "Leave me alone, brother."

Wade closed the door, coming closer, "Di, I wanna help. Please, talk to me. Who is writing to you? Is it Mike? I'm so sorry about how this all turned out. I didn't intend to make you both unhappy. Mike is not around to make it up to him. So I could at least try to fix our relationship."

Diana started crying now. God, crying girls made Wade totally unsure. What should he do? Should he go? Should he offer comfort? He decided for the last. Sitting down next to his sister he touched her shoulder, stroking it softly in circles. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me. But you know, I miss him too. If you know anything about his whereabouts, I would be glad for any piece of information."

Diana lifted her head and faced her brother. She recovered from her short-lived crying attack and gathered her pride as much as possible. "He is fine. I wish he never left. I made him promise to write to me every day and so far he had not missed one. Though he is not able to send them every day." Diana got up, heading to her drawer shelf. She returned with her sketching folder, putting it down on the mattress. She flipped through a few sketches before she pulled out around fifteen letters. These I've gotten so far. The mail should have brought more today. Every day that goes by without a life sign of him is killing me."

Wade peeked at the letters. He was sure they held very personal content. He wasn't going to read them. This was a part of privacy he didn't want to share with either of the two. But Mike addressed every letter with the date and the place he was in. The letter on top said 'Youngstown, 19th of May, 1813'.

Wade again took his sister by the shoulder, this time on both to make her look at him. "Diana, he will be okay. But I have no idea how this should go on even if he returns to you. Father would never allow this relationship."

Diana brushed Wade off, angry now. "How can you be sure about this? Mike will come home as a hero. Father will see his worth. And if not …" Di stopped speaking.

"What if not? I know about Mike's worth. He is as precious to me as my own brother but I can not change Father's decisions. You will not plan anything stupid, do you hear me?" Wade sighed, seeing his sister desperate. Much calmer he added what he actually wanted to talk about with Diana. "Diana, listen, I will be away for some time. Probably over a month. I want you to do what Father and Mother say to you, do you hear me? You made a misstep, but that doesn't mean they don't love you. Have patience and they will calm down, okay?"

Diana looked at him in disbelief. "What? Where are you going? Why now?"

Wade had to tell her at least a bit. "Rutherford has asked for us; he has planned an expedition of high priority. I can not tell you more."

"Why does this have to be now? And who do you mean by us? You're taking George and Bastian with you? Why can't I come too? Please, I need something to do. This waiting is driving me insane."

"God, Di, you're doing it again," Wade got up, now desperate himself. "I can not take you with me. Damn it! I wanted to say goodbye and you make a quarrel out of it!"

"I'm sorry, brother. You are right. I will be pretty lonely without even you around."

"Thank you very much, Di."

"I mean it," she got up and hugged him tightly. A thing she hadn't done for years.

Surprised, he embraced the gesture, now aware that he had missed it. "Maybe this whole war will be over soon and we can work the rest out, okay?"

Diana nodded in their embrace. "Thank you, Wade. I'm sorry that I put you in so much trouble."

*** EST ***

PRISCILLA WILMINGTON

"Mrs. Wilmington, may I speak to you in private for a moment?" Maggie the laundress asked.

Priscilla had overseen the housework so far when the young girl approached her. "Sure, Maggie. Come into my husband's office for a moment," she offered.

She lived by the rule that satisfied and fed servants are the best. So she cared for their needs. The two women entered the office. Prescilla closed the door and offered Maggie to take a seat. "What can I do for you, Maggie?"

"As you know I wash the laundry for everyone and I don't know to whom I should turn with my concerns. I put extra thick linen to the fresh underwear of all women in the house when they have their bleeding. But Miss Diana had not used hers for over a week as usual now. I thought you might better know about this. Maybe she gets ill or something or … or… it's far from assuming anything Madame, but …," a hand gesture by Mrs. Wilmington was enough to stop Maggie's report.

"Thank you Maggie for your attention. I will speak to my daughter. You chose the right person to speak about this issue with. I'm sure this will clear up in the next few days. Don't worry your little head about this. I'll take care of it. You do understand that you should not spread around stupid gossip about that, don't you?"

Maggie looked quite shocked, "Of course, I understand Mrs. Wilmington. Thank you for your time."

Maggie left the room. Priscilla had to catch a breath. Was her daughter pregnant? She counted back. This event Henry had been overreacting about had been three weeks ago. If Maggie was right - and she did her work very exactly - and Diana had indeed layed by Mike Campbell that night - she couldn't think how this would end. Henry would suffer a new heart attack. She could not tell him. Not until she was a hundred percent sure, and not before she had a good plan if this was really the case. She could risk another week of waiting things out. Maybe her daughter was just stressed about the whole situation. She had seen her daughter getting letters for over two weeks now. Wade would leave tomorrow. If Mike had made her daughter pregnant, maybe Henry would give in and let them marry. She had never found a bad thing about Mike except for the fact that he was not rich enough to care for a family. Of course, he had to change this. Then she would stand up for the two.

TBC