The Regimental Heroes Anthology(9)

The Scottish Regiment was holding back the attack and the cavalry was ready to advance. Clarke squared his shoulders and looked around. He saw Spencer, but where was his brother, Ellis? He’d seen him only a few minutes back. It was a mass of blue jackets and caps; he could not make him out.

“Steady men,” he yelled to be heard over the din. With swords and lances raised, they waited until the first attack broke through. He lowered his saber and moved forward. The smell of gun powder hung in the air like death waiting to swoop down and claim another victim.

The order to confront the Russian guns at a trot was madness. They were sitting targets and already under fire.

 “Charge!” His cry erupted and all around him moved into battle. He swung his sword almost decapitating the first man. Everything slowed. One after the other, he concentrated on killing the enemy in front of him.

Clarke swiveled on his mount and caught the colors of a boy’s coat. It was David, Adeline’s younger brother. What was he doing out here? He wasn’t ready to fight. Damn him. David went against his explicit orders to stay behind. He was only the bugler, not a trained soldier. He’d never wielded a saber. David was in his unit, his care, just like all the other men, but the boy didn’t even own a saber, instead he held a short blade in his hand as he squared off against an enemy.

There were too many men between them to maneuver his horse. Clarke jumped off his mount, and ran towards the boy. Just as the enemy soldier raised his sword, Clarke ran him through. The man looked surprised and crumpled.

He had reached David in time. Clarke pulled his sword free and tried to think of some place to take the boy to safety. He reached for his hand.

Blood sprayed across the front of his coat. At first David only stood there, his hand still in Clarke’s, as his chest gushed blood.

“No!” Clarke cried. He drew his Pepperbox pistol from his coat and fired a ball into the chest of the man behind David. Frantic, he grabbed his gold sash from his waist and tried to staunch the bleeding.

His efforts were lost. David’s heart continued to pump blood through the gaping wound across the boy’s throat.

“Tell my father I died with honor,” David said through a mouth full of blood, before his body went limp.

“No… No, you will not die!” he cried. He only had a moment to grieve before he had to push the body from his lap and continue fighting. His hands slipped in the boy’s blood as he struggled to hold the grip of the saber.

David wasn’t supposed to die… how could he possibly tell Adeline?

“Clarke,” a woman’s voice cried.



There were no women on the battlefield.

“Clarke!” the voice stopped the battle replaying in his nightmare.

He shook his head to clear it and slowly opened his eyes. “Adeline. How… why are you here?” His brain was fogged with sleep and the shots of whiskey he’d downed a few hours earlier.

“Spencer told me what happened. How David died.”

His jaw muscles tightened. “I’m sure he did.”

“Spencer was there, he saw what happened and that you were not responsible in any way. David disobeyed orders to stay behind the lines, only wanting to fight. It was foolish, but he was young. He was already in the fray fighting when you tried to save him.”

“I was his Captain, I should have protected him. He was not a soldier.” Clarke looked down at his hands half expecting to see them stained red. “I tried to save him… but there was so much blood.”

“It was war. You did what you could. David shouldn’t have been out there, but he was. He made that decision, not you. The enemy and the war is to blame. There was nothing you could have done.” Adeline raised a hand and cupped his cheek. “Clarke, look at me. No one blames you. I do not blame you. You must stop torturing yourself. You were David’s Captain, but you did not create the war in which he fell.”



              “He died in my arms,” he said barely above a whisper and clasped her hand in his. “How can you be so strong?”

“I am not,” she confessed. “Sometimes, I am not sure if I can make it through the day. The grief I feel for David is overwhelming. Is this the way it is for you?”

He nodded, his throat tight.

“Let’s make a pact,” she said. “I will be support for you, and in turn you can support me. That way we will always know there is someone looking over us when we are sad. David would have wanted that.”

Clarke always held a deep attraction for Adeline, but this was the moment he fell in love with her. “I cannot think of a more generous offer.” He raised her hand and kissed her knuckles. “This may be a pact for you, but for me it is salvation.” Clarke meant to kiss her forehead, but Adeline turned her face up.