Topping the ridge, the Union formation marched out of the scrub pines to be confronted by two men standing before the abandoned stockade holding a pole with a white flag of parley tied to the top. The flag rustled in the growing wind racing before a new bank of clouds heading toward the island, the storm towering into the sky with an ominous threat.

Stepping from the trees, Lieutenant Pace stared at Major Kane and Lieutenant Anders as they waited patiently. The Lieutenant opened his holster, pulled his pistol out, then approached the rebels seeing nothing more than two men dressed in rags of uniforms to ward off the cold.

“Wait here,” he called over his shoulder to his troops.

The slope was covered with tracks that were black in the bright reflection of the snow. Pace moved with a certainty based on the mass of men at his back, men who could easily destroy two insignificant men.

“That hardly seems appropriate for a flag of truce,” Lieutenant Anders gestured toward the gun in Pace’s hand.

“Sir.”

“The Lieutenant does not need to call you Sir.” Robert watched Pace; his own hand close to his pistol. “As Lieutenant Anders has seen battle, I suggest you call him Sir.”

“Play what games you will,” Pace snapped and holstered his weapon. “Do you wish to surrender?” Spoken through gritted teeth, the notion repugnant to Pace.

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“No,” Robert replied simply. “I thought I might afford you the same opportunity.”

“I am not in violation of prison rules or a formal surrender. You are,” the past several days had hurt the boy, his face shallow and drawn, dark bruising around his eyes suggesting sleepless nights.

“How long have you known of the Robber King?” Studying the boy, Robert sought answers before a singular voice died.

Taking another step toward Robert, his hands clenched tight with suppressed anger, Pace was so furious that he could not respond.

“I won’t go any further without giving you a last chance to turn from this path.” Robert explained in a neutral tone. “I have enough horror on my conscience without trying one last time to help you see the truth. Everything wrong is traced to the Robber king; it enjoys the pain we endure. It wants this battle, do you?”

“You stopped me for this poppycock?” Pace smiled foully and hung his head. The smile did not go away as the Lieutenant’s hand caressed his holster unconsciously.

It was the answer Robber had sought. “It seemed a leap of faith,” Robert smiled, knowing Pace did not catch the double meaning of his words. “The Rebel forces under my command will await your army on the other side of those woods.” He pointed to the north, Pace looking up to be certain he knew where to go.

Pace returned his attention to Robert with a desire, almost physically in need.

“Personally, I intend to place a shot,” reaching out Robert tapped Lieutenant Pace between the eyes, on the bridge of his nose, “right here.”

“You can try,” Pace laughed as he turned and walked back uphill to his troops.

Anders watched the Lieutenant for a minute then turned to Robert. “Why the hell did we do this?”

Robert smiled with genuine humor. “We had to let him know where the battle is.” They walked to the trees, Anders letting the pole with its white flag drop to the ground.

“It would have been rude to have the battle without them,” then they were in the trees and lost from sight.