At the Queen_s command

What he didn't want was being responsible for men, and for their feeling beholden to him. Nathaniel could take care of himself. Always had done, likely would do until the day he died. He'd already forgotten things Caleb Frost would need to learn if he was going to live. There wasn't any way, as Forest had said, that they'd be able to teach the men everything, and Nathaniel wasn't sure there was a way to even teach them enough.

He looked up as Caleb shouted for joy. He'd reached the top of the cliff. A few men below applauded; a couple threw caps in the air. Most of the hard men ignored his victory and, if he got chosen, many of them would figure it was because he was Forest's nephew.

Nathaniel knew that wasn't true. Caleb was a smart young man and a good shot. He was a leader, too. He stood up there on the cliff, urging on his college friends. The other men had come in by themselves, or in small clumps. Caleb had brought a squad and had them gamely doing things some of them likely never imagined doing.

"And like as not, they're the ones who end up dead." Nathaniel ran his hands back along his scalp, squeezing out barrel water, feeling it run down inside his leather shirt. That was the real trick of it. If men died, he'd end up carrying them with him forever. He'd do for their families what he'd done for Grannie Hale. He was sure he'd be thanked a lot, be told it wasn't his fault, but there would be those glances that told him otherwise. Cuz ain't nobody, given a chance to shift blame off the sainted dead, won't do it.

He hugged his arms around himself. There was the final point. If he didn't go, if he didn't lead, he'd still feel responsible. If any of them died, he'd think they wouldn't have had he been there. He didn't want responsibility, but he saddled himself with it anyway.

"I am pure-D doomed." He shook his head again, then smiled. "Least ways Kamiskwa ain't here to see this."

Nathaniel walked back over to Forest. "I got me one condition."

Forest raised an eyebrow.

"You pick Caleb, he's my Lieutenant. You take his squad, Makepeace Bone leads it."

The Major watched him warily. "Making Caleb your Lieutenant will not keep him out of danger."

"I know that, but means I have his smarts working for me. And you're gonna be most like putting orders in writing, which he's better at deciphering than I's ever going to become."

"I'll need time to think on this, Nathaniel. I favor your proposal at the moment. I'll decide in the time it takes for you to climb that cliff. Don't give me too long to change my mind."

Nathaniel laughed and kicked off his moccasins. "Step aside boys. Coming up for to show you how this oughtta be done."

Most men did part, though Rufus Branch made it his duty to get in the way while doing his best to pretend he was ignoring Nathaniel. Nathaniel darted around him, pulled on three pouches of stones and the two sticks as rifles.

The man tying the rope around his waist commented on the extra pouch of stones. "You only need two."

"Well, Rufus, he's carrying an extra stone or two. Ain't no reason I shouldn't."

Men laughed, and someone made the mistake of trying to slap Rufus on the belly. That man landed on his butt with a split lip, but had the sense not to get up right away.

Nathaniel began his climb. It came easy at the start, with hand-and footholds having been worn deep by boys who'd played on the cliffs for years. About twenty feet up a nice ledge afforded a view of the ocean past Temperance, and one could spot sails rounding the headland easily.

After that it got a bit trickier, but Nathaniel had long since learned the secrets of climbing. Never hug the rock, never get too spread out, and do all the lifting with your legs. Sudden moves, especially with stones swaying and sticks clacking, would throw a climber off balance more sure than a gallon of whisky drunk in a minute. And the fall from a cliff was worse than the fall from an alehouse stool.

Once he got past halfway, things became easy again because fewer climbers had made it that high. He ranged a little to the east, away from the quarry-side, and once he'd cleared some crumbling rock, made the run up fairly quickly. He climbed over the top and stood-even though he wanted to lay down and pant-and untied the belay line himself.

Major Forest cupped a hand to his mouth. "Glad to have you with us, Captain Woods."

Makepeace slapped him on the back, and Caleb offered him his hand as men below cheered and a couple fired off their guns. No bullets came close, but that was because Rufus wouldn't have dared do anything where folks could see, what with Makepeace above him and with his new Hill breech-loading rifle close by his side.

Nathaniel shook Caleb's hand. "You done right well, Caleb."

The younger man blushed. "Just hope my uncle thinks so. We, the boys and me, we want to go, do our part."

"Iffen he does choose you, be an honor to serve with you."

Caleb threw him a salute. "Yes, sir, Captain Woods."