Dawn was breaking to the east when word came from the lookouts that Lieutenant Pace had mobilized his troops and were marching along the north ridge in a column. They were likely following the tracks left by Robert and Anders; it was no matter; the fight was going to happen this day, now it was simply happening earlier in the day.
“We lead them to ground of our own choosing,” Robert gathered men as he warmed his hands at the fire. “There’s an open field to the northeast near the shore; we fight there. Load all the rifles and cover the locks with rags; no misfires today, gentlemen. Who has a pistol?”
Five men, a mix of Union and Confederate troops, raised their hands.
“Any of you have a problem with firing on Union troops?” Robert was concerned with the sentiments of the former guards.
Each man shook their head from side to side. After the past weeks, these men were beyond caring about the foolish allegiance their former comrades held for Lieutenant Pace.
“Good. You men are my skirmishers. I want you fifteen paces ahead of me at the center of the battle line. Aim for Sergeants and Corporals, understood?” All the men surrounding the fire nodded their heads. “Lieutenant Pace is mine; I will have none of you burdened with his death. However, it goes today, it ends here. No men will battle on this island again; either they surrender or we surrender, but the fighting ends. Whoever wins this battle will attack the Robber King; I prefer we claim the honor.”
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“If we win, we may just survive Coal Island.” Robert surveyed the faces of his men in the growing light. They were gaunt and tired, but they were hopeful. “Everyone wearing blue find some gray cloth to balance your color, your rebels after all.”
His advice given, Robert returned to the wall, waving for Corporal Anders to follow. “It’s not official, but I’m calling you lieutenant now. I want you on the end of our line and prepared to flank the enemy.”
Anders stared at Robert wordlessly.
“Lieutenant,” Robert finally raised an eyebrow.
“You could have made me a sergeant,” was the measured response.
“Lieutenant, sounds better. The King will probably make an appearance today. If it gets desperate, it will attack me, and the killing of Lieutenant Pace falls to you. That boy is unpredictable when the odds go against him. He may well try to kill everyone in a fit of anger. Therefore, we must do everything we can to ensure we win this fight. No prisoners, we kill them all. Understood?”
“We’ll win, Major. We have to.”
Turning their backs on the approaching threat, they watched the sun rise above the trees to the east, light reflecting on glistening snow-covered branches.
“I’ve never felt such cold,” Frost had formed on Robert’s beard, white and ghostly, as he stared at the morning sun devoid of warmth.
“These northerners can keep it,” Lieutenant Anders growled. “I don’t think I’ll ever be warm again.”
A distant voice called for attention. Both men turned to look at the ridgeline. One sentry was pointing south. Despite the distance, Robert could hear the message clearly.
“One mile.”
Robert stood straight; the pensiveness of the past few hours gone. “Ready the men and form a column. Have the sentries called in.”
“Sir,” Anders saluted formally, then hurried to the tasks at hand with a vicious smile.