Edge: Killer's Breed

It was said by the men of D Troop, that when next the enemy was engaged they would be sitting ducks, blinded by the gleam of buttons and shine of their horse harness. Certainly, as the patrol started down the eastern slope of the Ridge, the men and their mounts had never looked so clean and well turned out, with shaven jaws incongruously pale minus the protection of several days' growth of beard.

D Troop was one of a number of units which had been dethatched from McClellan's army and ordered to push eastwards in all haste, towards a point known as Manassas Junction on the southwest bank of a Potomac River tributary called Bull Run. Intelligence reports indicated that a Confederate general named Beauregard had massed an army of some twenty thousand men in the area, squarely across the railroad route between Washington and the rebel capital of Richmond.

The splintering of McClellan's army into small units, with instructions to take separate routes across the mountains and thus attract less attention from rebel agents, had been synchronized with the movement of thirty-five thousand Union soldiers south from Washington towards Manassas Junction.

The briefing session had been as disorganized and handled as incompetently as every other aspect of the war so far. But from the maps he had seen spread upon McClellan's table, Hedges gathered that a rather unbalanced pincer-movement was planned, with the scattered troops coming down from the mountains to harass Beauregard's left flank while the army moving out of Washington under General McDowell hit hard at the  front. He could recognize the basic soundness of such a plan but was concerned at the lack of co-ordination and his speed over the Blue Ridge was aimed at reaching Manassas before the battle commenced, perhaps enabling him to confer with McDowell's staff on tactics.

Buildings ahead, captain."

It was Corporal Douglas, riding immediately behind Hedges, who jerked the officer from his thoughts, drawing his attention to a small settlement in front of them. Hedges raised his hand to halt the patrol and narrowed his eyes as he examined what lay ahead. The purpose of the patrol, some two miles in advance of the main body of the troop, was to blaze a trail across the mountains, preferably in secrecy and therefore finding detours round habitations. They had several times swung wide of a direct path to avoid isolated farms and small villages, but the detours had all used up valuable time. As Hedges examined this new obstacle to their progress, he had to weigh the possible dangers it held against the certain delay in taking a longer route.

"Hell Captain, we ain't seen a reb since we chased them off Rich Mountain," Forrest called from the end of the line.

"And Virginia ain't seceded from the Union," Douglas put in. "Civilians won't give us no trouble."

Hedges was well aware of these points and as Douglas completed his contribution, the captain nodded. "We go in slow and careful," he said, not taking his eyes off the large farmhouse, its barns and the surrounding huts of the field workers. "You keep your eyes open and your weapons at the ready. But I don't want no shooting unless we're attacked first."

He didn't turn to see what reaction his instructions had drawn, but heeled his horse forward, down a narrow bridle path and on to the wide shelf upon which the farm was spread out. Trees, thinly placed, provided inadequate cover for a few yards, but then the path forded a shallow stream and cut a course between two fields of maize, taking them into wide open space.

"Hey, Captain?" Just above a whisper.

"Yeah, Forrest." Hedges didn't turn around.

"Where's the people?"

"You noticed that, too.

Smart." Seward giggled: "Maybe they heard we was coming and took it on the lam."

"Or maybe they're holed up and got us in their gun-sights," Scott suggested.

"Happy guy." Bell.

"It's past noon," Hedges muttered. "Eating time."

Bell clicked his tongue against his teeth and rubbed sweat from his forehead. "I like that better."

They had covered half the distance to the first building; a barn separated from the fields by a wire fence with a five-bar gate where the pathway intersected it. With workers in the fields and smoke rising from the big house chimney the farm would have appeared idyllic and innocent in the bright, early afternoon sunshine. The atmosphere of desertion which clung to it impregnated the very air with a sense of the ominous.

At the gate Hedges leaned down to unfasten the latch and the scrape of metal was very loud, magnified by the silence. The gate did not creak as it swung wide; the oil on the hinges was still fresh enough to have a shine. The troopers filed through, into the deep shade of the barn. It was old but in a good state of repair, as were the other buildings spread around the big, well kept yard. The main house had a porch heavy with magnolia blossom. At the side was a neat kitchen garden.

"Nice place," the spotty faced Haskins murmured, a little enviously.