Blue Honor

Sealing Fate II. - Part 2

Through the halls of his barracks, Michael stalked to his room. He found a nearly empty and quiet hall. One of the other cadets came from the washroom, eyeing him, surprised he was there. He reached his door and entered, slamming it shut behind him.

"Mike?" A voice called to him from the bunk.

"Sorry, Marcus. Go back to sleep," Michael said.

"Rough night?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Marcus yawned. "Good, 'cause I don't think I can stay awake anyway."

Michael lit a candle. Wishing it illuminated his heart. Though he knew his sister supported him, it was still him against the world. He thought resignation was the best solution, but his heart broke at the very idea of throwing up the sponge.

Going to his dresser, he picked up an envelope left on the top. With renewed energy, he tore the letter into several pieces and threw them into a wastebasket. He never sent the letter to his commander, and the guilt galled when he had to lie to his mother and father.

For his own sake, Michael no longer wavered on his decision. He knew the truth, and nobody, not even his mother, was to take that away from him. He told himself his mother merely feared for him, and never intended to cause pain.

Shaking his head at his reflection in the mirror that hung above his chest of drawers, Michael regretted his hasty words, but only for not expressing himself in a collected manner that proved his point. Many mornings he set a basin there and shaved his face, which still barely had a hint of a beard. After only a year, the face he now saw in the reflection no longer belonged to a boy. He saw a man, clean shaven as he might be. As a man, his duty was to defend his beliefs and be of use.

"I won't stand here and watch when there's work to do. I'm a soldier now, and this is my duty," he whispered to his reflection.

"Talking to yourself now?" Marcus grumbled half asleep.

Michael snickered, removing his hat and jacket. He hung them up.

"Yeah," Michael admitted.

"Did you go see that pretty sister of yours?"

"Yeah," he said, going to the bunks. "But, I won't see them anymore. I'm staying here."

"Well that's grand. I'm glad," Marcus said, unconvinced.

"What?"

"Nothing. Do you think Miss Conrad would like a man like me? I can go with them in your place," he said, laying back.

Michael stared, shocked he asked him such a thing. Of course Emily did not like him. She never liked men like him. Men like him expected her to be a flower they tucked in their buttonhole a few times a week, lay with and have wait on them like a second mother. He thought more on the subject, and had no idea what men she did like, but certainly he was not Marcus. He would laugh at her ideas and call her pretty, keep her in a cage in their parlor.

"No."

"Why not?" Marcus challenged with a grin.

"I don't know. She likes men like Cadet Howell," Michael sat on his bed.

"They gonna get married like you said?"

"If my Mama has her way." Michael sighed and looked out the window beside the bed.

"Too bad you left her there. Now, your mother's gonna live her life," Marcus said.

Michael laughed. "Not Em. She's got her head full of ideas."

"Evan's a lucky man, anyway," Marcus said after a pause.

"You've no idea," Michael said, spying the moonlight on the tree outside.

"I think I do. He's graduating this year. I heard he's going to join the Potomac down in Virginia."

"Where did you hear that?" he asked, pulling off his boots.

"From him. He says that's where his friend Maynard went. Made his captain ask for him directly. I bet he's gonna get in the practice with him-get rich, too," Marcus said.

"Joe Maynard?" Michael sounded distracted. He unbuttoned his shirt, removed the collar, and undid the cuffs.

"Yeah, the rich kid," Marcus scoffed.

"We're all rich," Michael countered. He thought about Joe Maynard and his infallible reputation at The Point. He would give anything to be like him, so resolute and so respected.

"Most, but not like him. I bet Emily'd like him. All the girls like him," Marcus said.

Michael laughed. "Probably, Marcus. Probably." He doubted it. Emily hated dandies, too.

"So you're staying?"

"Yeah-I'm staying."

"Good. You can sleep on that bed over there then and watch my back when this thing falls on our heads," Marcus said.

"Sure Marcus," Michael said, lying down. His eyes lifted to the window, and he prayed for Emily. He begged the powers that be to let her live her own life and love who she wanted to love. "What did you have for dinner tonight?"

"Wasn't bad. Spit roasted chicken-served with roasted potatoes. They held the side of roasted manipulation for you," Marcus murmured.

"Aw, Mark. She isn't all that bad. She's just scared," Michael defended his mother.

"My mama's scared too, but she ain't runnin' down here to rescue me. We're all scared. We might die soon, Mike. You know that?" Marcus said.

Michael remained silent.

"Rich kids or not, we can all die at the end of a ready rifle," Marcus continued.

"It hasn't happened yet." Michael tried to dismiss those words.

"It will. I feel it," Marcus's voice shook.

That night edged along slowly, the longest in the memory of both Conrad children to date. Michael remained at school. The patriarchs and Emily long since returned home. Each man at The Point faced the reality of his position, being called to service in war, and the clawing possibility of never returning. The well-meaning gestures that were strewn along the path to this moment had done no more than sever Conrad bonds.

Michael and the other cadets of the West Point Military Academy found themselves swept up in the greatest turmoil of the 1860s. With Lincoln's election came the forewarned secession of the South. The United States of America dissolved. The Northern Unionists and their allies prepared to preserve the Union, and the South readied to achieve their goal despite them. The South planned its own republic, in its own image, and refused to relinquish its goals. All around, men mobilized for war and others rallied. For Southern or Northern will, men were to fight and die. They chose their side, Blue or Gray.

Nearly ready to accept his commission, Michael observed the portrait of Robert E. Lee being drawn from the wall.

*

Thank you for reading this preview!
To find out more about me and my books go to: www.BlueHonor.com

Samples of my other publications can found here on Wattpad, including:

The Trailokya Trilogy, Book One: The Shadow Soul (Fantasy/SciFi)

Thanks to Wattpad for featuring my WWII Thriller, OP-DEC: Operation Deceit, in its entirety, exclusively on their site.