Chapter 13

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Thomas woke with a start. It took him a moment to realise where he was and where the sound that had woken him was coming from. He could see the legs of one of the soldiers through the wooden planks of the pen next to where he had laid down to sleep. He thought from the shiny boots that it must be Miller. He was rummaging in the saddlebags for something. From the dull brightness around him, like a lamp only half lit, and the crisp coolness of the air, he knew it was daybreak. It felt like he had just closed his eyes to go to sleep. He should have retired for the night when Val went but he had an anger in his heart last night that for some reason Val seemed to accentuate and he just didn't want to be in his company. Everything about him, his smugness, his air of superiority towards Thomas as if he was a child suddenly became all too apparent and repulsive and he hadn't been able to control it. He knew that the events of the day had rattled him and left him vulnerable, had exposed something within him that he had never really faced before. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it might be. During his time on the Shamblin Islands, the first documented non-native to do so (there were legends of others but no tangible proof), he had been in danger, but those occasions had arisen from what he would call natural events like when he had gone on one of their shark hunting expeditions and he had been scared of his life that the boat was going to capsize at any moment and the time when he had slipped while climbing to see one of their shrines in the centre of the island and broken his arm and at the same time narrowly missed falling off another ledge which would have almost certainly led to his death. What happened yesterday was very much different. That was one man taking the life of another. He felt soiled by it and he felt it was something he would never be able to wash out. It was like he had lost something. What? A part of his soul? His innocence? Being a part of whatever it was and instinctively feeling the wrong of it had made him angry with...himself, he guessed and as always seems to happen in such situations we take that anger out on other people and Val was an acceptable target. Thomas knew that all those flaws he had identified in Val's character were true but while he had had the self control and patience to live with them up to that point, the killings had taken all those safeguards away from him last night. He turned himself around to see if he could see Val or where his bed roll was. He saw a blanketed-mound across from him and by its size and shape he identified the person as Lay Manson. There was a bed roll and blanket next to the young man which was already neatly tied up that he recognised as Val's. Thomas knew that he had been cold to Val and had even raised his voice to him at one time, which had surprised Thomas, and so he decided he would go and find him and try to start the day in a more respectful way. He caught himself at that point and explored the idea of perhaps letting this 'coldness' extend for a period of time. After all, it might be no harm to bring Val down a peg or two, or at least begin to question his treatment of Thomas. A bit of introspection on Val's behalf might turn out to be good for both of them. Whether Val liked it or not Thomas was at the very least his equal if not, in terms of recent accomplishments and position within the academy, his superior, but let's take things step by step, he thought to himself, mutual respect first. The more he thought on this, the more he saw the merits of this approach.

He got out of his blankets and immediately felt that he needed a wash and a change of clothes, especially as they were due to be back in the saddle today and for how long he wasn't quite sure. He pulled out a clean shirt from his bag, a bar of soap, his razor and shaving brush. He walked to the front door of the barn, saluting Sankerson as he went. He had been wrong thinking it was Miller. Some of the soldiers who had been on watch last night had returned and were grabbing some beans and coffee around a small fire that Graham was supervising. It seems he had got his wish to cook outside. The Captain was there as well in conversation with Sergeant Friar and John Rabbit but there was no sign of Val anywhere in the yard. Thomas walked across to the fire hoping to get some hot water that he could use to take the chill out of the cold water that he knew was awaiting him for his wash. Good mornings were exchanged and Graham pointed to a pot of hot water by the fire that had been set aside for that exact purpose. The smell of coffee was too tempting for Thomas and he gratefully accepted the hot cup that was offered to him. He savoured the warm feeling spread from his stomach to all other parts of his body and not for the first time, or the last time he was sure, marvelled at the rejuvenating properties of the coffee bean. When Graham told him that he would have to wait a little bit for his breakfast he decided to use that time to clean himself up and make his way to the far side of the house where he had yesterday spotted a barrel of water. It seemed the rains they had encountered earlier on the trail had also been seen here. As Thomas walked in that direction he saw Val coming out from where they had buried the two young men yesterday evening. What was Val doing there? He stopped and he could see that Val had also stopped. Thomas' instinct was to raise his arm in recognition of the older man but he forced himself to keep his hand down and with eyes fixed straight ahead continued his walk to the south side of the house.

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Val stopped when he saw Thomas. His instinct was to raise his hand in salute but he stopped himself. After all, it was the younger man who had started this. Thomas had also stopped and Val was sure that he had seen him but he then just continued on around the side of the house without any acknowledgement. It seemed that a night's sleep had not had the desired effect. This surprised Val as he had been certain that it had just been a reaction to the events of yesterday. God knows that had affected him but this must be something more...maybe even something about him. He tried to think back to the events of yesterday to try to remember any occasion that might be the reason for Thomas' behaviour. Nothing out of the ordinary came to mind until he remembered Thomas snapping at him when he said that he wasn't good at giving eulogies for the dead. What had been Thomas' words? "You should just say what you think is right." or something to that effect. Could that be it? Something as simple as that? If so, Val would have to reassess his opinion of the younger man. Had he offended his religious beliefs? That was a common occurrence with Val, being the humanist or atheist (he wasn't sure of the difference) that he was. Put that with his lack of tact and you had a recipe for many an insulted gentleman and gentlelady. Was Thomas religiously sensitive? He hadn't thought so or observed anything up to now that would give that impression but then again do we ever really know someone? You think you do and then whack, they have run off with another man. That made him pause for a moment but he didn't want to bring up those memories and he began walking towards the other men by the fire. Only the Captain and John Rabbit were still eating. The others were washing their plates from a bucket of water that Graham had provided for them.

Val had woken before dawn and sat with Graham while he began his preparations for the morning. As usual, the cook was chewing raw garlic while he worked and humming a tune that this time Val didn't recognise. He had found it hard to get to sleep the night before though he had not heard Thomas returning to his blanket so he realised he must have fallen asleep at some point. He had felt surprisingly rested when he woke and knew he would not be able to get back to sleep again. His throbbing knee wouldn't allow him anyway. He had twisted that in his younger days and it was coming back to haunt him now. The advantage of being one of the first to wake was that he got the first cup of coffee. He was more of a tea drinker if he was honest with himself, mainly because his mother had been one and there had not been much coffee in the house, just a small box in the kitchen cupboard in case a visitor requested a cup. Coffee, it seemed, was a much more popular drink over here in the New Land and Val was quickly coming round to its benefits. Graham had said he wouldn't start the cooking until a little later so Val, looking to kill some time, had found himself strangely drawn to the graves he had helped dig the night before. 

It was not so menacing there as the night before and as colours slowly began to creep from the ground to greet the new day it almost seemed peaceful. A robin redbreast had perched on the branch where the Sergeant had placed the lamp the night before and appeared agitated, jumping and twisting from side to side as if wary of the approach of a predator. The mounds marking the two graves had already begun to be covered with falling leaves and Val wondered what he would see if he were to return in a year's time. What was put in the earth quickly became a part of it. Soon, no one would know that two young men had been buried here. Val, realised that the Robin had stopped chirping but it was still there on the same branch. It was easy to imagine that it was watching him. Without thinking why, Val began rummaging amongst the leaves and fallen branches under the trees. He had an idea. Finally, he had four sturdy medium length branches to suit his purpose. He used his belt knife to cut some of them to the required size and shape and he found some tough vines growing through the undergrowth that he used to tie two of the branches perpendicular to each other. He wasn't sure how long the knot would last as he wasn't over confident in his knotting skills. He knew if his father was looking at it he would have shook his head and taken it apart and done it again himself. However, it looked OK for now and it would have to do. He stuck the sharpened point of each into the ground at what he hoped would be considered the head of the grave. At least now, for a time at least, anyone coming by would know. There were no names to identify them but there was nothing Val could do about that. He noticed that the robin had begun singing again and found himself taking off his hat. It seemed the two men would get their last rites after all "Amen" said Val and with that he turned to go back to get his breakfast. It surprised him to see that the sun was about to begin peeking down on them from the crest of the hills to the east. He had been occupied for longer than he had expected. He hoped that there was still something left for him to eat. As he walked out into the yard, he saw Thomas walking away from the fire.

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