*All rights to the character Jasper belong to Stephanie Meyer and her association with Twilight; as well as the reference to Eowyn, belonging to LOTR but not the character herself
Jaspers POV
"Burn it, burn it to the ground." Jerad was right, that was all we could do at this juncture.
My remaining men took safeguard behind the wooded brush a length away, allowing me leave with a makeshift torch in hand to set the four corners of the cabin ablaze. It would not be long before the brazen Lieutenant came scurrying out, at which time we would cut him down like the coward he was.
I took a few steps back away as each area was lit, waiting to make sure it caught fire before moving on to the next post. As the fourth was lit, the heavy smoke began to fill the air not only inside but outside the structure as well; he has nowhere to run but out to us.
Fitting, I scoffed and turned to take my place at the wooded edge.
Engulfing flames surrounded as screams emanated from inside, the door still did not move. Confused, I didn't know what to make of this turn of events; whether it was ignorance, arrogance or inability, he did not charge. The feeble man never emerged from the edifice as it was entirely engulfed, the heat seared our skin as it danced into the wood. The flames erupted further up into the air, although I had desired an abysmal demise to this man, a flaming expiry was not the plan. Not seeing much real battle up to this point, the screaming and stench made my stomach turn.
"Let us be done of this" I latched my rifle upon my back, sheathing my sword at my side and bid him a swift ride to Hell by the upon the horseman's steed.
Gathering up our packs and supplies, somberly hearing the crackling of a dissipating fire, we were none the wiser to what was approaching just steps away. A hallowing shout echoed just yards away from me, taking us all completely off guard; my absconded former Sargent, the man whom we all thought had simply pushed on ahead to Albany wanting nothing to do with this plan, now charged at me. Drawn sword in hand and revulsion in his eyes, my gut told me there was not enough time to draw my own weapon so I steadied my stance for the strike. He would look into my eyes if he were to take my life and I was ready.
To whatever end
I drew breath in and felt the warm spatter of blood upon my face, into my uniformed chest. I figured once run through a man didn't feel the sensation right away, a peaceful blessing as the edge of a blade surely ripped tissue with discord.
There were screams all around me, battle cries and if I were lucky, the estranged Sargents' untimely death matched my own. Kill the traitorous fiend, he deserved nothing less and if my wish was their command, I heard him fall.
Burn in hell, where all the traitors are welcomed!
As I fluttered my eyes open Jerad, whom I didn't remember being in front of me, grasped at my both my arms and we both fell to our knees. His eyes teeming with disbelief, struggling for breath a trickle of blood down the edges of his lips burned a truth I didn't want to know; I cried out for aid, it was he, not I, whose body fell upon the sword.
I shook his brusquely, "Jerad, no. NO…. NOOOO! Don't do this to me…" I begged "You are not going to die, not here, not now! Not for me you hear! NOT FOR ME!"
He struggled for breath, coughing up blood. His wounds needed tending immediately, we could not wait. The nearest town on horseback would be our only salvation, I tussled him from the ground and over my shoulder and with an urgent desperaition in my voice I yelled, "Grab the horses now, we ride just over the ridge to town…. NOW!"
This was not his fate, not my best friend.
Upon my horse we flew. With Jerad in my grip, holding his wound tightly, I rode as if my soul hung in limbo. If there was a God, he would facilitate our miraculous arrival and sweep him from Death's hand. I had seen miracles during my short tenure in war, why would this be any different?
Please, I pleaded, Just hold on.
"Whitlock, I'm done. Let me be… Just let me go."
"LIKE HELL, this burden is mine! I will not let you take a sword for me and sit idly by as you pass. I WILL NOT!"
His head fell back into my shoulder, despondent. There were no stubborn a pair than he and I, as kids and as adults. I could save him.
While riding, in my most desperate of thoughts I spouted every prayer I could conjure, "God, please help me! PLEASE HELP ME! Archangel Michael, fight for us!" I pleaded to the Heavens out loud now as we pressed on, fear burning in my chest.
Turning the corner into a dusty town, taking not even notice of its name, I sped the streets and demanded the Hospital. Maybe it was the despair in my voice or the star on my shoulder that gave such accord, men pointed and shouted the direction I was to head, even clearing a path for me.
I jumped off of Achilles, my steed, Jerad in hand and rushed to the doors of the infirmary. Shouting, "This man is an Officer and demands immediate attention. Is there a Physician able?" I commanded attention in any room, this deemed no different.
A man covered in blood came around the corner, took heed of the Captain in my arms and said, "Here, place him here! I can tend to him." He took Jared on a cot, rushing him into the surgery bay trying to push me out of way. Tightly gripping the young physicians arm, I heeded him a warning,"Doctor, know that I would give everything I owned to spare this man his life. Please treat him as if this were your own credo. I couldn't beg with a more pressing need."
He could see the truth in my eyes,"If you wish me to attempt to save this man's life, if he has that kind of worth to you, then Major, I beg you to wait outside and let me to what I was trained to do! NOW" Stunned, I did as he asked. I could do no more. I grabbed Jerad's shoulder before the physician took him and begged one last request to his pale face, "Fight my friend, fight!"
He grinned as they passed through the white flapped enclosure and out of my sight.
With whatever pride I had left, I walked out of the hospital tent and began to let my actions and inaction's assault my senses; my mind swirling as I was once again catapulted back to smelling the burnt foliage and pine, powder penetrating through the reeking air leaving sulfur as my only aftertaste, tepid blood coagulating into my clothing, saturating as it flowed, the defeat in Jerad's russet eyes, even as he tried to fight and the inaudibility of the events that lead me to stand right here in the middle of this small town surrounded by life but the numbness just engulfed me whole.
In hallucinogenic delusion I swept past row after row of tatty tent quarters, my attention drawn elsewhere as I heard someone beckoning me by name which only struck me as odd since where we remained still laid a mystery and I therefore couldn't possibly be recognized.
Taking pause, I turned to find none other than Colonel Beckman standing lengths away. My initial expression couldn't have been of more embarrassment as I stood at immediate attention, saluting my commanding officer and awaiting what he wanted of me. What a fine mess I had turned into.
"At ease Officer…. My God, Major Whitlock, is that you? He seemed surprised, we had only spoken on one brief occasion.
"Colonel, yes sir"
"You look like hell, did you encounter trouble on your march here?"
Here at the crossroads an honorable man would have fessed up to his goings on, asked forgiveness for his transgressions…. Today, I was not in an honorable temper. To save my own skin, I perjured myself before my superior officer.
"Sir, we were ambushed by a small regiment from the North, lives were lost. A Corporal, Winchester…." I cleared my throat "Captain Anderson still sits in surgery sir, wounded"
"I'm sorry for your losses, we have all seen more attacks coming from our foes in the North, we are pressing their territory and they feel the noose tightening I'm afraid. Come, I have something for you in light of this foul news" Generosity from a General should be taken with care, for it was infrequent and certainly not without price. With trepidation we marched further through camp until we addressed a smaller, unkept tent where the Colonel paused.
"First Lieutenant Steele, a word if you would sir." I cringed. That name. I knew that name. A man I had quarrel with in my early years in Texas and even in my haze, I would remember a foe.
Steele, with uneven greasy hair and smelling of rotten meat, came from behind the doors and reared to attention in front of us both, glowering at me intently as he obviously didn't understand why I had action to stand next to a man of such stature. Trying to keep my composure as this wretched excuse moved his attention back to the Colonel, speaking freely.
"At your command, sir"
"First Lieutenant Steele, this is Major Whitlock. One of the finest Majors to have graced the Confederate Army. He has found himself in need of an Officer as ill news falls upon his, I bade you to follow him into battle that raises in the Potomac Valley and serve him well." His eyes widened at the audacity, his discontent to serve me matched only my resentment to have Jared so quickly dismissed.
"Colonel, If I may." He waved me to continue "Sir, my Captain will suffice for now, he has the best physicians looking in on him. This welcomed generosity could surely find a more suitable host."
"Major, I appreciate your fervor for your men but you are going to need council in these dark times. The next battles we march to will surely help us decide this war once and for all, I INSIST you take on the First Lieutenant with your squadron and march for the River at dawn." Standing ramrod straight at attention, I saluted him and turned away, narrowing my eyes at Steele.
"Thank you for your time Major. I wish you good luck" He tipped his hat and walked away.
The vehemence in my eyes gave way to my distraught facade, there was no way out of this and I felt the venom swim. With the Colonel out of ear shot, Steele turned to me, "I can't believe they would give a Majors rank to the likes of you. I'm sure it was your families money or perhaps their favor that brought you here but know this, Whitlock, you will never command over me!" He hissed as he took a step towards me.
Preening through whatever composure I had left, I took a step towards him, now toe to toe, eyes wide, "As I told the Colonel, Steele, I require neither your council nor your presence. Stay out of my way or we will find ourselves in another disagreement you won't want to be at the receiving end of. Understood?"
"Major Whitlock" He spat "I don't know how you've run your command before today but by the condition of your current situation, I'd say it's poor at best. I have been a commanding Officer through more battles than you've been alive. You might want to pay attention and learn something from me, sir. As for your Captain, if he is not standing here before us now, I'm sure he won't be at a later date either. Be rid of him, we can move faster without the wounded anyway."
Anger in raw form is feral, uncontrollable and unhinged, bringing down a ferocity rarely seen among the civilized; when the Indians of the Wild West came upon an enemy instead of killing them right away, they counted coup first. Sneaking into camps or along a trail, they would pounce on their target letting them know they were marked from that day forward, and in that moment they could have died but instead the Indian chose another time to do so. Something from deep within rumbled, erupting and spilling to the surface.
From the fastened sheath on my hip I withdrew my gutting knife, leaping at the First Lt. slashing a gouge cheek to chin across his face and his fear amplified at the blade I clasped to his throat. Bleeding and gasping, he wasn't sure what to make of me; insane possibly, but resolute. All I saw was cowardice in his eyes and he put his hands high in the air, submitting.
"Be sure of one thing Sir, I will slit you from naval to gullet if you speak another ill word of my Captain. He is an Officer and a gentleman, of which you are neither. Your twisted malignant power that has corroded your mind and turned ownership into right. I will be rid of you soon, of this I am quite certain. I see through your salivating envy of my position and I will have none of it. Consider this your warning and I only ever give one." Breathing heavily and shaking, he nodded and I swiped my blade away from his neck, nicking it for good measure. He walked away, grasping at his face, and more than wounded pride.
I hoped the warning made itself clear, even to a rancid mind such as his. I would rather commit another act of treason than to command with his filth at my side.
I marched back towards the infirmary in hope to find Jerad out of surgery and healing, regaining his strength so we may take our leave of this desolate settlement.