Edge: Killer's Breed

Hedges felt neither, elated nor depressed as he allowed his horse free rein through the mountains, at the head of one column of men and in the wake of another. If he experienced any emotion it was one of low-keyed satisfaction that he had made mistakes at Philippi, but had learned from them. That men had died during the lesson was no fault of his, rather of the circumstances which allowed for no school of war except war itself. Neither did he concern himself with the rumor that McCellan was considering his promotion to captain as soon as a vacancy occurred. When the general had personally commended him, after hearing Leaman's report of the battle, Hedges had been taciturn in his response. He had done what was necessary in the best way he knew how and in his own mind this was what was expected of him and therefore merited no reward.

"Understand you're in line for promotion, lieutenant?"   Captain Oliver Jordan was a tall, thin man of forty with an arrogantly handsome face and the manner of an educated hog. Before the taking of Fort Sumter he had been second-in-command of a fort in the south western Territories. He was always willing to regale, and bore, his fellow officers in McClellan's army with tales of his exploits, the details of which were apt to be embroidered at each telling to the point where little credence could be placed in them. Of all the West Pointers Hedges had come across, Jordan had the greatest aversion to ninety-day officers. As he slowed his horse to match pace with Hedges, the captain's eyes displayed a sardonic light and his teeth shone in a supercilious smile.

"So everyone keeps telling me," Hedges answered with merely a glance in the other's direction.

There was a low murmuring of discontent from the men in Hedges' column. While fellow officers disliked the boastful Jordan, the enlisted men hated him for his overbearing attitude and unbending brand of discipline.

"You're still a lieutenant," Jordan reminded.

"Sir," Hedges supplied.

Jordan nodded. "One skirmish doesn't make a soldier."

Hedges continued to ride, eyes to the front, looking across the heads of the troopers towards the rising ground that was beginning to slow the pace. "No, sir," he said.

"You don't say a lot, do you?" A note of irritation had crept into Jordan's voice.

"I've only got one skirmish to talk about, sir," Hedges replied and spat into the lush green grass they were riding over. "Said all I want to about that."

A cackle of laughter sounded from the men behind the officers and was abruptly silenced as Jordan turned in his saddle, his expression hardening. His eyes were still flat with an accusing glare as they returned to Hedges' profile.

"You don't impress me as officer material," he said with soft reproach. "I've got the ear of the general and I'll be watching you, lieutenant."

"I'll try to give you something to see, sir," Hedges came back evenly.

Jordan grunted and heeled his horse into a wheel away from the column of cavalry to return to his position. Another cackle of laughter followed him and was not ended until the men had drained the situation dry of amusement.

They crested one peak and then another in the push towards the Shenandoah Valley before a halt was called and McClellan assembled his senior officers. Hedges made use of the pause to read again the letter from Jeannie Fisher and then scrawled a letter of his own to his brother Jamie. He folded five dollars into the envelope before sealing it and putting the envelope in his pocket to await an opportunity to place it aboard a west-bound stage. C Troop, the designation for the men under Leaman's command, were in a glade and Hedges did his reading and writing under the spreading bows of a gnarled oak which reminded him of the tree standing outside the house of his Iowa spread. Leaman found him there, reading yet again the short note from the girl in Parkersburg.

"See there?" the Captain asked, pointing out of the glade and up the rise to where the side of a mountain could be seen between the trees.

Hedges nodded as he put the letter away.

Leaman lowered his voice to cheat the ears of the nearby troopers who strained to pick up information. "Rich Mountain. Indications are that there are between four and five thousand Confederates dug in up there. They've been waiting there a long time and have thrown up some good defenses.

"Hedges grinned coldly.” You asking for volunteers?"

Leaman attempted to form his boyish features into a cynical grin. "In this war you only volunteer once—to join. After that it's orders all the way. McClellan wants to push on north east with the main body. Jordan's Troop, C Troop and A Troop are going up Rich Mountain."

"When?" Hedges asked.

"Mount up!" a cry rang through the timber, to be followed by identical orders from all around.

"One guess," Leaman replied.

Hedges took off his cap, ran his hand through his lengthening black hair and replaced it. "Before the rebs have time to dig in any deeper."