Bid For Freedom

Chapter 47

The bugle sounded almost in Caleb's ear. Drummers' cadence signaled the advance. Caleb steadied his prancing horse as the battle cries sounded from both sides. He looked away as the armies clashed. Shrieks of terror echoed across the hills.

"Let's go, men. That's our cue!" Sabers sang as they were drawn. Horses whinnied as they were kicked into action.

Caleb swallowed hard as he followed the swarming herd into the fray. He flinched as a bullet brushed the hair on the side of his head. He swung his saber, immediately looking away as crimson spurted. His horse stumbled and fell, tumbling Caleb into a group of gray-clad warriors.

He immediately drew his pistol, firing at the closest man. He scrambled toward his sword as the men around him gathered their wits. He reflexes kicked in as he fought his way out of the melee. A sea of gray moved down the hill as the rebs retreated. Caleb collapsed against a tree, the contents of his stomach pouring out onto the ground.

"First battle?"

Caleb wiped his mouth and nodded.

"You're doin' great. First one's always the worst."

"It gets better?"

The man next to him shrugged. "It's amazing what one gets used to."

Caleb shuddered. "Don't know if I'll ever get used to it."

The man peeked around the tree. "Wait til tonight. The wounded sound like ghosts in the dark. When they stagger into camp, it's like the walking dead."

Caleb swallowed back the threatening bile.

The man clapped him on the back. "Don't worry. This doesn't happen every day. Soldering is ninety-nine percent boredom and only one percent sheer terror."

Caleb looked over at the man's gap-toothed grin and accepted the musket the man offered.

"You know how to use that, sonny?"

Caleb barely nodded.

"Good. Here they come. Be ready."

Caleb said a silent prayer and pointed his rifle at the advancing mob.

Numbness settled over him as the actions became routine. Fire, reload, fire, reload. He found himself wishing for his carbine rifle that was still in its scabbard on his horse instead of the old musket. The gray tide was relentless as they swarmed and retreated and swarmed again.

The fighting died down with the setting of the sun. Caleb limped his tired muscles back to camp. He grinned when he saw his horse tied to his tent beside Jeremy's. He patted the horse's flank. "Glad you lived, pal. That was something, wasn't it?"

The horse nickered and swished his tail.

The tent flaps flew open as Jeremy stepped out, relief etched across his features. "Oh good. You're alive. I saw your horse runnin' without ya and feared the worst."

Caleb shrugged. "Barely got a scratch other than those from when he fell."

Jeremy nodded. "Got sliced by a saber. It's nothin'. I had one of the Laundry Belle's stitch it up."

Caleb's eyebrows rose. "That's what you been doin whilst I been almost dyin?"

Jeremy grinned and winked. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

Caleb shook his head. "What's for dinner?"

Jeremy held out a small bag. "Hardtack."

He rolled his eyes. "Mmm. My favorite."