Master Of Paradise (44 page)

I love him too much. I can't go on without him. Life without Nicholas isn't worth living.
She was without hope. All were dead or dying.

Suddenly Amanda felt a flutter, a quickening in her womb. She put her hand on her belly and held her breath. Yes, there it was again, as if her son had kicked. In that instant she realized that not all were dead and dying. Here was life! Here was Hope!

As she lay on the earth she thought she could feel the pulse of the Universe beating solidly beneath her outstretched limbs. She lay there a long time, resting, feeling a peace descend upon her. Amanda lay there until the sky turned inky black, hung with diamonds, then slowly she arose and returned to the boarding house.

She slipped through the darkened hall, toward the kitchen. Very quietly she searched for anything she could steal that would benefit Brandon. She picked up an empty berry pail and put in two cups of salt, and on top of that she put two cups of soda. Then she stole a bar of lye soap. She felt guilty because she knew how much these things cost, but she concealed it beneath her shawl and stealthily made her way upstairs.

Both men were sleeping restlessly, and she could tell they were both fevered. She shook her father awake and told him to dress. As he did so she explained, "We have to leave now in the middle of the night because we have no money to pay our lodging."

She awoke Brandon and was relieved to see recognition in his eyes. He was not yet delirious. "Bran, we have to get out of here without making any noise. Put these extra clothes on, we can't carry any luggage."

Bernard and Amanda helped Brandon struggle into his newly-washed trousers and tunic, and they got him to his feet. Amazingly enough they were quit of the house and at the stable doors before they were discovered. Amanda, panic rising in her throat, babbled the first thing that came into her head.

"They have the fever. The hospital was full of typhoid. I must get them out of here before the contagion spreads to others in the boarding house."

"My God, let's get that horse in those buggy shafts and get the hell away from here, lady," ordered their host.

Brandon lay sprawled across the back seat of the open carriage, half-unconscious from the pain he'd endured in moving him. Bernard sat up on the high front seat, but it was Amanda who picked up the reins and guided the horse from the stable and out into the darkened road in the direction of Virginia.

She drove for about two hours before the dawn pinkened the sky. When it was full daylight, she reined in the horse by a stream and allowed it to graze on the rich green grass.

Her father had dozed most of the journey, due to his fever and she knew she had nothing she could give him to relieve it. She helped him out of the carriage and sat him with his back against a tree.

Brandon was a different matter. He needed attention fast. She got him out of the carriage and he lay on the grass. First she took one of her petticoats and with the help of her brother's Bowie knife, tore it into bandages. She spread out her shawl and carefully poured out the salt and soda. Then she filled the berry pail with stream water and took up the bar of lye soap.

She had to soak the dirty bandages from the wound, and the moment she touched it, a sickening smell arose to assail her nostrils. Mandy washed the yellow matter from the wound with the lye soap, and marveled at Brandon's bravery.

She examined the wound carefully.
Thank God some army surgeon removed the ball.
It was angry red with inflammation, but worse than this, the edges showed signs of gangrene. Her gorge rose in her throat, as she took the sharp Bowie knife and cut the dead, rotting flesh from the edge of the wound. Fresh blood sprang up from the cuts, so she scooped some salt and soda into fresh water and poured it into the wound.

Brandon, screaming, rose up fast enough this time. But not until he was freshly bandaged, did she lie down to rest her weary body.

Amanda repeated this operation twice before they reached Richmond. Bernard seemed a little recovered by this time and managed to get them railway passes back to Charleston. He was also able to procure a small amount of quinine to keep their fevers subdued, along with a few rations that would just barely keep them from starvation with the money he got from selling the horse and carriage.

The trains were filled with soldiers. The gray-clad were wounded, the blue-clad were prisoners on their way to Andersonville prison in Georgia.

She saw a Confederate Officer use his rifle butt on a Union prisoner. "Please don't do that," she said with quiet intensity. "A prisoner is at the mercy of his captors. My husband may be a prisoner, sergeant, and I pray to Almighty God that his captors are merciful."

Amazingly, by the time the trio wound their weary way home to Paradise, Brandon's leg had begun the process of healing. Bernard had good days and bad, but he had aged rapidly in the last few months. Amanda was suffering from acute exhaustion when Mammy Lou tucked her into Nicholas's bed and did not let her up for three days.

Jennifer was the happiest one in the whole household when Amanda finally showed her face downstairs. Jenny had shared in the burden of nursing Brandon and watching over her father. When this was added to the difficult business of planning meals while food was scarce, it all became too much for Jennifer Joy to cope with.

As soon as Amanda felt rested, she took Samuel aside. "We have to go into Charleston to get money from the bank. What was the name of that banker, Samuel?"

"Gabriel DuBose. Ah knows where de bank is. We go tomorrow. You plannin' on using dat lil' boat, Miz Mandy?" he asked nervously.

"I'm sure as hell not getting in another carriage for awhile, Sam. Don't worry, I can handle the boat."

When they got to the bank, Amanda found they had put restrictions upon the amount you could withdraw. Even though Samuel used his best powers of persuasion, Messire DuBose was adamant-- no more than one hundred dollars in gold, or a thousand in Confederate notes. They took the gold. When they returned to the bank two days later, the doors were locked and barred.

The streets were filled with people begging for food and Amanda could clearly see the city was a dangerous place to be. On the way back to Paradise, Amanda spoke openly to Samuel. "I know you cared for Nicholas as if he were your own son, Samuel. I want you to go North. I want you to find out one way or the other if he is a prisoner; if he's alive or dead."

"Miz Mandy, ah's almost gone a dozen times, but ah know Masta Nick wouldn't wan' me t'leave yo'"

"That's the main reason I wanted money Samuel. You can't travel without it, I know, I've tried it, and you will be gone for months."

"Yo' gonna need dat money chile. Dey ain't no more where dat come from."

"Well split the money. When we get home we'll stitch five ten-dollar gold pieces inside your clothing. Be very careful Samuel; people would kill you for that kind of money."

"Ha, folks kill me fer bein' black," he laughed.

"I'm afraid the chances of Nicholas being a prisoner are very slim, and I know what I'm asking is a difficult task through strange Northern States you've never before visited, but there's no one else cares enough, Samuel."

"We care-- dat enough," he said simply

"If you don't locate him, perhaps I'll be able to accept that he's dead," she said softly.

Amanda did not have time to sit and count the days Samuel had been gone. A Confederate recruiting sergeant rode through and swept up Moses and Luke for the Cause. Then Brute came to her with an air of determination about his set face. "Ah goin' ta kill de hogs for de winter an' when deys in de smokehouse, ah goin ta take my family North. Dey promises land an' ah know ah' can make a good life for Cleo an' de boy. Masta Nick already give us freedom-- dat ain't why we goin'; we goin' fer land."

"I understand, Brute. There won't be enough food to see us all through the winter. I wish you well, and I want you to have a little gold. You helped Nicholas so much when he first started Paradise. He couldn't have done it without you."

A killing frost turned black all that remained in the kitchen garden, so in a way it was a relief not to have so many people to feed. Brandon was up and about and lost no time informing the family that he would be leaving in a couple of days.

"I can and I must. Honey, you don't understand. I'm a cavalry officer. It's what I was trained to do, more, it's what I was born to do. Amanda, I've never been much good at anything my whole life, but I'm a damned good cavalry officer! For the first time I feel good about myself-- I'm doing something that's worthwhile."

Amanda gave him her blessing and insisted he take Sunblood. It was the only thing she could think of that would help to preserve his safety, and the fervor of his words convinced her that he must do this thing.

Once he left, Bernard had a relapse and took to his bed, and Jennifer scolded her again and again for aiding and abetting Brandon in his headlong ride for Glory.

Amanda was now very swollen with the child she carried, and did not move as quickly as before. One morning a Confederate Troop rode in with requisitions to commandeer all mules and horses for the army. Old Joe tried to stop them from taking Sunblood's colt and got the butt of a rifle for his interference. Young Ben, the only other field hand left at Paradise, struck the Captain a blow. It was a total mistake. The Captain was a Southern gentleman and saw his duty clearly when a black slave attacked him. He simply drew his revolver and shot him.

"You scum!" Amanda screamed, clutching her belly. He ignored her and started to lead Miss Louise from her stall. Amanda sprang forward and grabbed her mare's bridle. "You bastard, you bloody bastard! You'll not have her for a war horse. Not unless you shoot me too!"

Mandy knelt beside Old Joe and they examined Ben, but there was nothing they could do. Seeing this innocent boy lying dead and fearing Nicholas had suffered the same fate, she imagined it the sharpest pain she would ever have to endure. Amanda was wrong.

Four months later, at the end of February, she went into labor. Nothing on earth had prepared her for the agony of it. After fourteen hours, she became delirious and imagined she was her mother who would be confined to a chair for the rest of her life.

She could hear Jenny and Mammy Lou whispering in anguished tones that she was 'too young' and 'too small' and as the pain washed over her in waves, she desperately wanted to die so that she and her son could go and join Nicholas.

Finally in desperation, they sent for Old Jessie who administered one of her potions. Mandy floated away to Paradise where Nicholas awaited her with outstretched arms. She was familiar with Paradise; it had a gazebo and a maze, and a reflecting lake with swans, all set amongst flowers that would bloom forever.

Gradually something began to intrude itself upon the serenity. She tried to ignore it, but the noise was becoming so insistent that reluctantly she tried to focus on what it was. She opened her eyes and realized it was a baby crying. Then she realized it was her baby crying!

Her face filled with tenderness as she beheld the tiny creature with the black curls and turquoise eyes. "Little Nicholas," she crooned as Mammy Lou helped her lift him to her breast.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The working of Samuel's mind was very like a maze, for if he went along a path of thought and came to a dead-end, he patiently retraced his steps and persistently set off along another trail. He had never heard the expression 'When in Rome', but instinctively knew if he was to travel North, he would do best to become a staunch Northerner and Unionist. He wasn't sure where to begin, but gradually he wound his way to Washington, the heart of the Federalists.

The only person he knew who had a connection with Nicholas was Pamela, so he began a search for her, not knowing exactly why, but following his instincts.

It didn't take him long to locate her. It was the title that made it easy. Lady Pamela Peacock, widow of the late Lord Harry Peacock, had been set up in a fashionable townhouse in the District of Columbia, where she enhanced the glittering social scene that overflowed with high-ranking government officials. She had parlayed what she had seen on her recent stay in the South, embroidered somewhat of course, into a cushy little arrangement that suited her down to the ground.

When Samuel gave her the news of Nicholas, he could tell it was the first she had heard about it. She assured him that if her step-son was being held in a Union Prison, she would be able to find out. She bade him return the following week.

Pamela lost no time in ascertaining that the Alabama had been sunk by the Union ship Kearsarge, and then she found out that the prisoners were still being held in the Port of Annapolis because there had been an outbreak of smallpox.

Pamela scanned the list of prisoners but saw no Nicholas Peacock listed. Then she examined it more closely, name by name. There was only one name on the list similar to Peacock; a Captain Leacock, listed as a British Merchant Seaman.

The government official who was keeping her, guilelessly arranged for Pamela to be taken to the prison when he discovered she was looking for her step-son. It took her only a few slight manipulations to interview the prisoner alone.

Nicholas was brought before her handcuffed, and his two guards assured Lady Pamela they were right outside the door if she needed them. He was heavily bearded and the clothes he stood in were threadbare.