Souls Aflame (38 page)

The day passed slowly, and Julie felt it would never end. Sara and Lionel exchanged worried glances as she paced the straw-covered floor nervously.

Julie wondered how she would feel when she actually saw Derek again. Just being close to him, his strength, his courage, his all-encompassing command of any situation…these qualities would make her feel that she could face whatever life had to offer.

She stood at the open door of the barn watching the stars above, a thousand fireflies twinkling in a cloak of black velvet. Soon, she rationalized, she would have to face the reality that Harley Beaumont was not going to return. He’d probably found his way to a saloon, started drinking, and forgotten all about her. She couldn’t blame him. Why should he worry about her problems?

“Julie…”

She stepped from the barn, straining to see into the darkness.

“Over here. Come quickly.”

She moved into the thick foliage of the scuppernong vines that enshrouded the old barn. “Harley?” she whispered anxiously. “Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me,” he said nervously, stepping away from the thick vines. “We must move quickly. I found the
Pamlico
, and she’s being loaded. They may run the blockade before dawn.”

“Then we’ve got to ask to see the pilot.” Her breath came in excited gasps. “Let’s be on our way.”

As they hurried through the night, Harley explained that the ship was being loaded on the opposite side of the river from Wilmington, on a low, marshy flat, where the steam cotton presses had been erected. There were sentries, he said, posted on the wharves, and she and Harley would have to be very careful or they might be shot as spies.

“Spies?” She laughed nervously. “Harley, all we have to do is explain to the sentries that I wish to speak to the pilot, Derek Arnhardt. They will go and get him for me. It’s all quite simple.”

“Not as simple as you think,” he almost snarled. “Now let’s don’t waste time talking. Let’s move fast.”

Julie was puzzled, but she quickened her pace to keep up with him. It was a long distance, and by the time they reached the waterfront and Harley paid the owner of a small boat to take them to the other side, her legs were aching.

The boat pushed ashore among brush and brambles, and by the time they waded through the marshes, Julie’s dress was soaked almost to her waist. “I see no need for all this secrecy,” she complained, a mixture of anger and annoyance in her voice. “Harley, Derek
knows
me. He’ll see me, I’m sure—”

“Will you shut up?” he snarled, his fingers digging into the flesh of her arm till she winced with pain. “Do as I say and stop nagging me.”

“You’re hurting me,” she cried, trying to jerk away from him, but he held her tightly, dragging her through the reeds and saw grass as she stumbled and struggled to stay on her feet. “I want you to just go, Harley. Leave me be. I can make it the rest of the way alone. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but—”

Abruptly he stopped and turned around, grabbing her shoulders to shake her so hard her teeth were rattling. “Listen to me, you little fool. You think I’m doing all this because I’m a gentleman out to help a woman in distress? Why do you think those sentries are posted? They are there to stop deserters from sneaking on board the ships being loaded. I happen to be a deserter, and I want to get on board the
Pamlico
. I’m sick of this stinking war. I’m not going to get my guts blown out by some Yankee ball. I’m going to stow away and make it to Bermuda or wherever the hell they go, and then I’m going to lie on some beach and relax till the blasted war is over. And you’re going to help me do it, or I’ll slit your goddamned throat here and now and throw you in the river for the crabs to eat. Do you understand me?”

She felt cold steel pressing against her neck, and she could only murmur “Yes…” as terror struck her in the pit of her stomach. “Yes…yes…”

“Now I’ll tell you how we’re going to work this out. I’m going to hide in the bushes, and you’re going to get the sentry’s attention. That shouldn’t be hard to do. You’re pretty, and the son of a bitch will be only too happy to talk to you, figuring he can line up a little lovin’ later on. Just leave the rest to me.”

She felt a slight sting as he pressed the blade harder against her skin, knew the flesh was broken. “One more thing. You give me away, and I’ll see you dead before they can get me. You understand?”

She could hardly push the word from her lips: “Yes…”

“All right. Now here’s what I’ll do for you: I’ll get you on board. We’ll hide out, and when we reach wherever we’re going, I’ll turn you loose to go to your lover.”

He gave her a rough shove. “Let’s get this over with.”

Terrified, she knew there was no hope of escape for the moment. He pushed her along until they reached the edge of the marsh. In the light of the torches burning along the dock, she could see the long, sleek ship. From her experience onboard the
Ariane
, she knew this steamer was preparing to run the blockade. The spars had been reduced to a light pair of lower masts without any yards across them. The only break in their sharp outline was the small crow’s nest on the foremast to be used as a lookout point. The hull, showing about eight feet above water, was painted a dull gray color, to render the steamer as nearly invisible in the night as possible. The
Pamlico
was lowered square with the gunwales. The funnel, which would spew forth the exhaust from anthracite coal, used because it was smokeless, had been lowered close to the deck. The steam would be blown off under water so that no noise would be made.

Julie saw crates of chickens about to be loaded, and knew there would be no roosters among them, for fear that their crowing might give away the ship’s whereabouts to the Yankee blockaders.

As Derek had also explained to Julie, the in-shore squadron off Wilmington consisted of about thirty vessels which lay in the form of a crescent facing the entrance to the Cape Fear River, the center being just out of range of the heavy guns mounted on Fort Fisher. And these horns, as they were called, gradually approached the shore on each side, so that the whole line or curve covered about ten miles.

The hold of the
Pamlico
would be loaded by expert stevedores, the cotton bales so closely packed that it would be difficult for even a rat to find a hiding place. She wondered just where Harley planned to conceal the two of them.

Julie knew the hatches had been put on, and there was a tier of cotton bales fore and aft in every available spot on the deck, leaving openings and approaches only to the cabins, the engine room, and the men’s forecastle. She could spot the somewhat thinner tier on the top, and with only its foremast up, the steamer, with its low funnel and gray-painted sides, looked like a huge bale of cotton with a stick placed upright at one end of it.

“They’re ready to go,” Harley said nervously. “I don’t know what they’re waiting on, except maybe to load those damn chickens. We’ve got to move fast.”

There was one sentry, leaning against a crate, and his head nodded now and then as though he was fighting to stay awake. Harley instructed Julie to move as close as possible to the sentry and call to him.

“And what shall I say?” she asked, her whole body trembling with apprehension and fright. “He might shoot me…”

“Don’t be a fool. He’ll look up, see how pretty you are, and that’s all it will take. Here, fix this—” With a deft movement he reached out and yanked at the bodice of her dress so that her breasts were almost completely exposed. “Make him think you’ve been raped or something. Ask him for help. You just get moving, Julie, or so help me…”

She winced as she saw the knife’s blade gleaming in the starlight.

Julie began to move cautiously forward, and thoughts flashed through her mind—Myles…her mother in her grave…Lionel and Sara wondering frantically why she had never returned…Derek…

Oh, God,
she thought, feeling a nauseating wave of panic,
this can’t be happening!

“Halt!” The sentry snapped to alertness, the rifle he held pointing toward the saw grass. “Who’s there?”

“Help me…” she murmured faintly, stumbling forward. “I—I need help…”

His eyes widened at the sight of her, dress torn, breasts all but pouring forth, hair disheveled. Dropping his weapon, he lunged forward. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?…”

Like a flash, Harley was out of the dense foliage and plunged his knife into the sentry’s throat. Julie stuffed her fist in her mouth and fell to her knees, fighting the nausea, the hysteria, that threatened to erupt.

Harley was upon her, dragging her to her feet. “That man…” she whispered dizzily, sorrowfully.

“I’ve already dragged him into the bushes. Move quickly. They’ll think he deserted. On board. Up the ramp. Fast…”

A mist settled over her, and Julie allowed him to lead her. She felt as though she were walking in a fog, that none of this was real. She stooped and squatted when he told her, lay down flat when he ordered. It seemed forever, and then again, it could only have taken seconds, she reasoned. All sense of time and existence was dissolved.

Then she felt herself being shoved through a hole, deep into the bowels of the ship. It was hard to breathe, for the air was hot and close. Her skin was pressed against the rough burlap binding the cotton bales, and Harley pushed her back even farther. “I can’t get my breath!” she gasped, and he gave her another vicious shove.

“Shut up and save the air,” he snapped. “No telling how long we’re gonna have to hide here. We may be eating rats to keep from starving before it’s over. But you better make up your mind whether you want to live or die, because I’ve come too damn far to let you mess me up now.”

Finally they were pressed as far back into the tightly packed bales as they could get. There was no room to lie down, and for this, Julie was grateful. At least there was no chance of Harley forcing himself upon her.

Harley chuckled, sounding a bit nervous. “I wish I could see your Captain Ironheart when he finds out you helped a deserter kill one of his men.”

A twinge of anger began to overshadow her fear and timidity. “When I tell him the truth, he’ll hunt you down and kill you like the mad dog you are!” she hissed.

“You just shut your mouth, or I’ll fix you so’s you won’t be able to talk. I’ll slice your tongue out.” He was silent for a moment, then went on in a rasping voice, “I’ve heard about him, how he’s supposed to be so goddamned tough. If he ever comes up against me and my blade, there ain’t nothing going to save his ass.”

Not wanting to goad him further, Julie said nothing. Then she felt his hand groping beneath her skirt, and she opened her mouth to protest but froze, as did his seeking fingers, at the sound of voices drifting around the cargo.

“Where in the hell did Junius run off to?” someone was saying irritably. “Never took him for no deserter.”

“Hell, maybe he had some popskull and got drunk and passed out in the saw grass. One thing’s for sure—if Ironheart ever lays eyes on him again, he’ll hang his ass. He hates a deserter. Here. Give me a hand with these chickens. We’ve got to get going.”

There were sounds of movements, grunts, chickens cackling nervously as their crates were hurriedly stacked. Then the men’s shuffling footsteps faded. Harley, thinking they were at last alone, began to explore Julie’s trembling body once again.

Then more voices were heard, coming closer, and he whispered tersely, “Goddamn, I reckon we’re gonna have these jackasses swarming around for a while. You stay quiet now, or I’ll slit your throat.”

It was difficult to raise her arm, as tightly squeezed in as they were, but she managed to do so, pressing her hand against her quivering lips. A sickening sight kept dancing before her eyes: the knife plunging into the unsuspecting sentry’s throat, the sudden spurt of thick, hot blood, the way his eyes flickered but a second with surprise before glassing over as he slumped silently to the ground.

The ship began to move. They were under way. Crewmen wandered through the hold as they stacked and shoved and pushed the cargo about to better balance the load. Julie prayed for discovery, but Harley had pushed them so far back that their hiding place was not likely to be found.

After a time, they were alone. She realized Harley had fallen asleep, and she was tempted to give way to her own weariness. Her mind would not let her, remaining ablaze from all that had happened in the last few hours. She was so engrossed in thought that when the steamer slowed, she did not notice, but then she suddenly realized it had stopped all forward motion and was still.

Men were once again moving through the hold. Harley continued to sleep, and she prayed he would not awaken. Perhaps there was a chance they would be discovered.

An annoyed voice pierced the stillness. “It’s stupid to take time to stop at Smithfield to look for stowaways. I wish we’d just go ahead and make the damn dash through the blockade and hit the Gulf Stream and be on our way.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” another voice drawled. “But they require all outward bound steamers to stop here and make one more check.”

The first man continued to grumble. “Hell, we do a good job of checking when we’re loading. We ain’t never caught nobody.”

“Well,” the other voice laughed caustically, “I feel sorry for the poor wretch Ironheart ever does catch stowing away on his ship.”

Ironheart! The sound of his name sent a thrilled shiver through Julie’s cramped, tired body. Soon she would see him. She was warmed by the thought of being folded in those strong arms against that rock-hard chest. Once more she would experience the overwhelming feeling that nothing could hurt her as long as he held her in his embrace.