It was probably February before Robert found Lieutenant Anders leaning against a tree, seeming to sleep.
The bodies in the field had been almost overwhelming. On a good day, Robert could haul twenty bodies to the pond, which also contained open water. The vast lake frozen solid, with violent upheavals coming at odd intervals. Eventually, Robert stopped counting how many bodies he interred. He also stopped counting how many times the Robber King watched his efforts.
Robert simply continued his search until he found Anders. He dealt with the dead nearby until Robert was certain Anders was the last corpse on the island.
Ignoring the rifle hanging from the tree, Robert sat in the snow, leaned back against the rough wood, then regarded the man he could have called a friend; should have called a friend.
There were things he wished he had said to Anders. Yet he still needed to talk, even if it were to understand the island before he died, even if it was to the corpse of his friend.
“You know I couldn’t talk about what I understood. To speak was to give the Robber King my thoughts, but I hoped you caught my hints.”
Robert looked at the frozen man, then hung his head. “I really wanted to us all off the island. Was going home too much to ask after years of war?”
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“I have to be honest, though. My wife and children are dead. Northern raiders killed them. Never mind that we were a haven for freed slaves and our work with the Underground Railroad, our crime was being born southern. After the Mexican War, I swore I would stop fighting and never come back.”
“Maybe God was punishing me for helping a country that could countenance slavery; I just couldn’t turn my back on family and friends. No one I knew owned slaves, we were just farmers. I thought I was fighting to keep my family safe.” Robert pursed his lips, refusing to show the pain, and picked the last of Colonel Beltram’s cigars from his pocket. He lit the cigar and puffed for a few minutes until he felt able to talk.
“I’ve helped a lot of men die, John. suppose I wanted to save us all to balance the scale of life and death. I should have known better; not one ounce of weight comes off the stone we carry when we become soldiers. That’s why we resort to concepts like honor and bravery; they help us stand upright and proud despite the burden to our immortal soul and the fear that burden carries.”
He stopped and watched the shadows of men play among the trees, flitting from shadow to shadow. “Despite the burden of our eternal debt,” he looked back to Anders. “I’ve never been this cold, John.”
Robert stood with difficulty, then worked at the body of Lieutenant Anders late of the Army of Virginia until the corpse came loose. He dragged the body frozen in a perpetual sitting position to a makeshift sledge, then delivered the Lieutenant to a watery interment.
As he worked, Robert whistled Dixie through cracked lips, the tune neither jaunty nor a dirge, simply a song he whistled because it seemed right.