The fever let up some as they went into the cooler days of December. Hope said it was because there wasn’t a man in the camp healthy enough to get sick. The men dubbed the camp Fort Starvation and then set about the business of surviving the northern winter as best they could. Sometimes that meant breaking a few army rules, and court-martials became as common as hunger pangs.
The more fortunate wrongdoers merely had to ride the wooden horse while those others who had wandered out of camp in search of something to eat were accused of desertion and drummed out of camp. Brice argued their cases, but the officers said they had to keep the rope tight to maintain discipline.
“I’m not asking you to relax your rules,” Brice said. “Only your punishments. If you send a man out into this wilderness without warm clothes and some kind of provisions, you might as well put a bullet in his head. It might be kinder.”
“True enough, but then the next man may think twice before breaking the rules,” one of the captains said.
“A starving man is ruled by his stomach,” Brice said.
A colonel from the regular army spoke up. “Have you ever been in the army, Dr. Scott? The real army and not the militia.”
“No sir.”
“Then may I suggest you leave the disciplining of the troops to those who know what they’re doing and stick to dosing fevers?”
Brice stared straight at the man and said, “I took an oath to save lives and work against death no matter how that death comes.”
“Then I fear the theater of war is not the place for you, Dr. Scott. Many men die in war,” the officer said.
Even though Brice knew he was stepping out of line and onto dangerous ground, he couldn’t hold back his words. “Death at the hands of our enemies is a far reach from death of our comrades at our own hands.”
The colonel’s face tightened. “You’re dismissed, Dr. Scott. Let this be your last appearance in this tent.”
Brice glared at the man for a full minute before he ducked out of the tent. It was wrong. He knew it was wrong, but he was part of this army. He the same as the next man had to fall in line under the officers and do as he was told.
As Brice walked back through the camp, men huddled in tents and crude lean-tos called out greetings to him. Some of the men were fashioning moccasins out of green hides. They wouldn’t do much good, but it might be better than being barefoot in the snow. Brice had already treated some frostbite.
Brice raised his hand in greeting, but he didn’t feel like talking to anybody. He doubted even young Kerns could talk him out of this black mood. Nor pray him out of it. Brice looked up and toward the woods where the last boy had been sent to his death. Maybe the Lord would help the boy. Didn’t he help innocents? But if so, Kerns would have to do the praying for them. Brice had no prayers in his heart.
By the middle of December the food began running out and the men were close to mutiny when some men brought in a herd of hogs. Hope ran by Brice with his knife already out of its sheath. “At least we’ve finally got something to use our knives on.”
For a few days things were better, but the meat didn’t last long. There still wasn’t any flour, and the cold was unrelenting. Brice steered clear of trouble and shut his ears and eyes when the officers made a half-starved boy ride the wooden horse or sent a man out of camp because he went searching for roots or bark to eat or shot a man for sleeping at his post. He told himself it was the same as losing a soldier to the fever. He couldn’t stop the dying either way. It wasn’t right, but they had nothing else in this camp of starvation. Why should he expect there to be justice?
Then one morning just as Brice was getting up, Nathan came by his tent with bad news plain on his face. “What is it, Bates?”
“You know the Kerns boy. The one who’s took up with you lately.”
Brice’s chest tightened until he thought he might not be able to breathe. He forced out the words. “Go on.”
Nathan blurted it out. “They caught him sleeping at his post this morning.”
Brice sank down on his heels and worked at making his fire burn. He wished fervently that he did remember how to pray. Without looking up, he said, “What are they going to do with him?”
“The same as the others. They’ve done picked the men for the firing squad.”
“Without even a hearing?”
“I don’t know about that, but it wouldn’t do him no good. They found him sleeping. No amount of words is going to change that.”
Brice stood up and brushed off his hands on his pants as he started off.
“Where you going, Doc?”
“To find his captain.”
It wasn’t hard to find the boy’s captain. The big, redheaded man was pacing back and forth in front of his tent. He stopped when he saw Brice. “I figured you’d be here when you heard.”
“You can’t let them shoot the boy,” Brice said.
Captain Belding raised his hands in the air and let them fall. “Wish to God I could prevent it, but there’s nothing I can do.”
“There has to be something.”
Captain Belding stepped closer to Brice. “Look, don’t you think I’d change this if I could? I like Seth. But I can’t change the rules. Seth fell asleep on lookout.”
“They don’t have to shoot him. A flogging would do as well.” The boy could live through a beating.
“It’s not that simple, Dr. Scott. When a man is on lookout, he has the lives of every soldier here in his hands. The enemy could have got right by Seth last night and we could have all been massacred in our bedrolls.”
“But that didn’t happen.”
“But it could have,” Captain Belding insisted.
“Then there’s nothing you can do?”
Captain Belding looked sad as he shook his head. “Nor you.”
“I can’t accept that.”
“You’ll just get yourself in trouble. How’s that going to help Seth?”
“I’ve been in trouble before. I expect I will be again.”
“It won’t do any good,” the captain said as Brice turned away.
The captain was right. The officer in charge was curt with him. Kerns was a soldier with a soldier’s responsibilities. He’d have to live with the consequences of his lapse of discipline.
“But he won’t be living with anything,” Brice said. “He’ll be dead.”
“You are dismissed, Dr. Scott.” The officer glared at him.
Brice had no choice but to leave or be charged with insubordination. He walked slowly to the tent where they were holding Kerns. The guard at the entrance moved over to let Brice duck inside. Brice sat cross-legged on the cold ground beside the boy. He couldn’t think of a thing to say.
But Kerns smiled and reached out to touch him. “Dr. Scott, it’s right good of you to come see me, sir.”
Brice still couldn’t speak. His throat was closing together and he felt closer to tears than he had since he’d watched Jemma die.
“Don’t worry, sir. Leastways, not about me.” Kerns dropped his eyes to the ground as his smile faded. “I got myself into a fine mess this time, and I’ll have to pay for it. But it’s all right.”
“It’s not all right,” Brice almost shouted. “There’s nothing right about any of it.”
Kerns looked up at Brice again. “Don’t take on so, sir. I knew better than to fall off to sleep. I did my best with the psalms and I even sung some to myself. Wrong kind of songs, I guess. Didn’t nothing help last night. I just couldn’t keep my eyes open. It was so cold I think my brain must’ve froze up or something.”
Kerns was quiet for a long time. Then when he did start talking again, his voice was somber. “I guess as how I’ll be able to sleep forever now. You do believe in God, don’t you, sir?”
“I don’t know. I guess so, but I’ve never spent a lot of time thinking about it,” Brice said.
“You don’t have to think about God to know he’s there, Dr. Scott. He’s everywhere, in every blade of grass and every bird’s song.”
“Even here in Fort Starvation?”
“Even here. I don’t exactly understand how, but he’s here with me now, and it’s a comfort, sir, even knowing what’s going to happen to me in a little bit.”
“I wish I could make things different, Seth.”
Again it was the boy who comforted him. “I wouldn’t want you to worry yourself, sir. I never expected to go home anyhow. Though I didn’t figure on being shot by my own. I’d thought it would more likely be a redcoat that got me.”
They sat quietly for a moment before Kerns said, “Would you do me a favor, Dr. Scott?”
“Anything, Kerns.”
“Would you write my ma a letter? Tell her I loved her and that I died from the fever. No reason for her to know the truth. It’d just go that much harder for her.”
“All right, Seth. I’ll tell her how good and brave you were.”
The guard stuck his head in the tent and said, “Sorry, kid, but it’s time.”
Kerns moved to stand up, but Brice stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “You’d have made a good doctor, Seth. Better than me.”
“Thank you for saying that, sir, but I don’t think there could ever be a better doctor than you.”
Brice followed him out of the tent. He didn’t want to watch, but he couldn’t leave the boy now. As soon as Brice stepped away from the tent, Nathan was beside him. He didn’t say anything, but he stayed by his side.
It was over in seconds. The sound of gunfire filled the woods, and then all was silence. Brice went to Seth.
“Is he dead?” Captain Belding asked behind him.
“Yes.” Brice gently closed the boy’s eyes.
“We’ll bury him,” Captain Belding said. “He was one of ours.”
Brice stepped back out of the way as two men from Belding’s company picked up the boy’s body.
“All we can do now is pray for his soul,” Captain Belding said.
“I think it’s the rest of us who need the prayers. Not Seth.” Brice looked at the captain and then to the men carrying the body away.
He wouldn’t watch them bury Kerns. If there was a God the way Kerns said, the boy had already slipped out of his body and had gone on to his reward. Brice started back through the camp. He didn’t even realize Nathan was still beside him until he said, “I’m sorry, Doc. Kerns was a good man.”
“It’s over now, Bates. Finished and done. There’s nothing we can do about it.”
Nathan walked a ways in silence before he said, “Maybe there’s something I could do for you, Doc. Get you something to eat or drink?”
“If there was anything to get.” Brice stopped walking and looked at the boy beside him before he said, “You don’t have to worry about me, Nathan. I just need some time alone right now.”
“Sure, Doc. I can understand that. But if you need something, you know, to talk or anything, I’ll be around.” He let Brice walk on alone.
Brice would have liked to walk right out of camp and away from it all, but instead he went back to his tent. A man could be alone no matter how many people were around him.
But as he sat in front of his tent he realized he wasn’t really alone, nor did he want to be. Gabrielle was there with him almost real enough to touch. He could see the concern for him flooding her pure blue eyes, and then he could almost feel her touch him gently with her love.
She was hundreds of miles away, and yet she was there beside him. She couldn’t make him forget Seth had died a needless death, but her presence there in his mind made him believe he could live with that truth.
What was it Seth had said about the Lord? That he’d been with him in the tent waiting with him to face death. And somewhere deep inside Brice, a door inched open and a prayer slid out into his mind. Dear God, help us. Help us all.