Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Bruised and Broken
The sound of clinking tools roused Benjamin from his slumber. Groggy and head pounding, he squinted through the morning sunlight and swallowed.
At his side, Dr. Elliott Weston organized his box of medical tools, pausing every so often to wipe the blood from an instrument.
All around them, other injured men lay in bed, some asleep while others moaned in anguish.
Benjamin’s eyes opened more fully. The camp’s medical tent was no place any man wished to awaken, and the longer he gaped at Dr. Weston’s tools, the more he realized the blood might possibly be his own.
Squeamish, Benjamin groaned and closed his eyes.
That drew Elliott’s attention. Raising a bushy gray eyebrow, he peered at his patient and hooted. “Finally!” he exclaimed. “I was beginning to think you’d never wake up, boy.”
“How…h-how long was I out?” Benjamin croaked.
“Long enough to cause a stir.” Heading over with a flask, Elliott indicated that he lift his head. “Drink up, y’hear? You’re gonna be parched.”
Grateful, Benjamin clasped his hands around the flask and drank. After he’d had his fill, he sank against the bedding and shivered. “What’s become of my assailant?”
“Dead,” Elliott muttered. “So’s that other traitor…Yates, I think his name was? That loose cannon, McQuinn shot ’em both up. He claimed self-defense. Though from the looks of it, he couldn’t be that far off, seein’ how banged up you are.”
Benjamin swallowed. A sense of panic speared through him, and when he tried to sit up, he cried out before collapsing against the cot. “My legs…”
“What about ’em?”
“I can’t move them.”
Pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his thin nose, Elliott lifted the sheets. He peered at Benjamin’s stockinged feet, then prodded both with his finger. “Y’feel that?”
“I-I think so? I don’t know…” Voice choking with terror, Benjamin pressed his palms over his eyes. “I feel something, but any time I will myself to move…”
“You can’t,” Elliott supplied, concerned. “I was afraid this might happen.”
Benjamin immediately lowered his hands. “Why?”
“You had some musket shot in your lower back, and I removed it,” he said. “If I hadn’t, it might’ve killed you.”
The terror within Benjamin’s chest spread. “But…if you hadn’t, would I be able to move my legs?”
“That’s tough to say, Captain.”
Sagging against his pillow, Benjamin drew in several shallow, panicked breaths, his head feeling floaty and detached from his body. “I…I-I can’t breathe…”
“Yes, you can, boy. You can’t talk without breath,” Elliott admonished. Nevertheless, he took Benjamin’s hand. “Just give ’er a squeeze. There now…good. That’s it. Breathe in, squeeze, then breathe out.”
Benjamin obeyed, tears stinging his eyes as he choked on his own air. Why couldn’t he calm down? Why couldn’t he focus?
A dry sob caught in his throat and he squeezed harder, clutching desperately until Elliott pulled back with a curse.
“Christ Almighty, you’ve got a strong grip,” he muttered. “When I said to squeeze, I didn’t mean shatter every bone in my hand!”
“S-sorry.” Shuddering, Benjamin finally felt a semblance of calm. If Dr. Weston was unbothered by his condition, shouldn’t he be, as well?
“Why don’tcha describe your legs for me?” the surgeon suggested. “What do they feel like?”
“Strange…heavy. And numb.”
“Hmm.” Pursing his mouth, Elliott instructed, “Cover your eyes. I wanna test somethin’.”
Doing as he asked, Benjamin blacked out his vision with his palms.
“D’you feel that?”
Below, there was a very faint, but unmistakable pressure against the arch of his foot. “Yes,” Benjamin said, trying not to get too excited, “yes, I feel it! You’re touching the middle of my foot…the underside.”
“Very good,” Elliott commended. “How ’bout this?”
There came an odd sensation from his pinky toe, and it took Benjamin a moment to realize the doctor was wiggling it. “You’re moving my little toe,” he said, “yet…I don’t think I can move it on my own.”
“Try.”
“I am,” Benjamin hissed, uncovering his eyes. “Any time I think to move, I can’t.”
“Hmph. Well, maybe—”
“Might you clarify Captain Hoskin’s condition?”
Both men jerked, and Dr. Weston turned toward the intrusion. “Major General!” he cried. “It’s good to see you, sir.” Fumblingly, he grabbed a chair, then dragged it over by Benjamin’s bedside. “Please sit!”
Edwin acquiesced. His curious, analytical stare brought Benjamin great shame, and he could no longer hold his superior’s gaze. Not like this. Not when he was broken and useless.
“Can you feel your legs?” Edwin asked.
Still looking anyplace else, Benjamin nodded. “Yes, sir…very faintly, but I can feel something.”
“And you can’t move them, you said?”
Reluctant, he swallowed before nodding again. “That’s right.”
Dark eyes filling with pity, Edwin shook his head. “Hmm. Then this will be very difficult, indeed.”
A spark of panic blitzed through Benjamin’s veins. “What will, sir? Because if this is about the breach, I know who was involved! It would seem—”
Edwin laid a hand over his wrist, silencing Benjamin’s excitable ramble. “I’m afraid that is no longer your concern. After much deliberation, I have decided to relieve you of your post.”
“What?” Alarm filled Benjamin’s gut, sharp and piercing.
“But, sir! I told you I can feel my legs!” Edwin tried to speak, but Benjamin cut him off.
“The fact I still have sensation proves I can get better! Please! You mustn’t do anything rash.
There is still so much more I can do for the cause!
” Here, he looked desperately to Dr. Weston.
“Tell him I can recover,” he begged. “Tell him!”
Elliott’s upper lip twitched in sympathy. “I can’t promise any such thing, Captain. Injuries like yours take time to heal and are all different…there’s no tellin’ what’ll come of this.”
Benjamin’s throat prickled. “You’re lying,” he hissed. “You’re lying! I know I can get well!”
Edwin remained impassive. “You will get better, yes. Of course, you shall,” he agreed, “but you’ll do your healing back in Freyview with your father.”
Benjamin’s mouth dropped. “Freyview? But—”
“Arrangements have already been made,” Edwin cut in. “McQuinn will take you back, and Colonel Travers will continue your intelligence report.”
“No! I can serve just fine in my state,” Benjamin spat, his shoulders quivering. “I am not an invalid, sir. I didn’t lose my mind! I can still think. I can still act. I can still create all the bloody plans it takes to service this army!”
“Comport yourself!” Edwin thundered. “I know you are angry, Hoskin, and I know you’re hurt. But you will not take this out on me, nor anyone else! We are doing what is best for your health!”
“But this isn’t what’s best, sir! My heart and soul are in this mission—in this cause! Please…” Tears welled up in Benjamin’s eyes. “Please don’t take this away from me.”
Silence followed, long and thick, before Edwin commanded, “Ready your reports for Colonel Travers. If you fail to do this, if you deliberately disobey me, you will be court-martialed.” Benjamin opened his mouth to speak, but the major general cut him off.
“Now,” he continued, “about that girl… If your intelligence report doesn’t include Miss Boyd, I must insist upon an addendum. ”
Benjamin’s brow creased. He was so overwhelmed, so distraught, that he could scarcely figure out which topic to focus on.
He couldn’t lose the intelligence. He couldn’t lose the operation.
But the mention of Clara brought a stab of disquiet between his ribs.
“Miss Boyd, sir? Is there a reason she’s of interest to you? ”
“She might’ve been involved in the breach,” Edwin said. “Those mutineers brought her into camp, and therefore, she cannot be trusted.”
Benjamin shook his head. “No. She was not part of that coup. Miss Boyd’s here against her will, and for the sake of fairness, should be returned to her family.”
Edwin drew up in his seat. “Absolutely not! She is a potential link to Tory information, and therefore, must remain here!”
“But—”
“Clearly, you are in no position to be making any judgment calls, Captain. The girl stays.”
Benjamin pressed his lips together into a tight, grim line. “Yes, sir.”
Edwin rose from his seat. “Dr. Weston will help ready your things, and McQuinn will take you home. Are we understood?”
Benjamin sneered. He felt like a child, the very invalid he’d claimed he was not. “Yes, sir,” he gritted again. A painful lump formed in his throat. “It would seem I can’t take up Daniel’s mantle, after all.”
Edwin’s face fell. “This wasn’t what I wanted for you, Captain. Remember that.” Before the younger man could respond, he turned and whisked from the tent.
“Easy does it…”
“No, no, support his back, you arsehole!”
Benjamin stared at the tent ceiling, expression blank while Amos and a handful of men argued about how to properly lift him onto a stretcher. At long last, they reached an agreement, and while Amos supported his arms, two other men took his middle, and the remaining two grabbed his feet.
“On the count o’ three!” Amos exclaimed. “One…two…”
Barely listening, Benjamin gaped listlessly while they lowered him onto the wicker structure on the floor. Once there, the men started squabbling—again—about how to lift the stretcher.
This was humiliating. Unable to fend for himself, all Benjamin could do was listen in mounting agitation as everyone sniped about how to proceed and fought about what was best for him.
“Oi, you’ll be all right, Moony,” he heard Amos reassure. “We’ve got the cart waitin’ ’round front.”
A cart? So, he was going to be shipped off like a bloody sack of potatoes?
Embittered, Benjamin lowered his eyes and swallowed, gesturing for Amos to come closer. When his friend knelt, Benjamin asked, “What’s to become of Clara? Bishop said—”
“She’s stayin’ here,” Amos cut in, his voice equally hushed. “He already told me.”
“Amos, you know it can’t come to that,” Benjamin said. Glancing toward the other men, who were still squabbling, he implored, “You have to help her escape.”
“Escape? But—”
“Get her out of here. Anywhere is safer than this camp. I realize that now.”
Withdrawing, Amos looked to Benjamin with sad eyes. “I know this’ll be lonely for you, but—”
“Just do it, Amos! This isn’t about me!”
The two men stared at one another, silent and pleading, before the cabinetmaker sighed. “I’ll see what I can do, all right? Jus’ know that if I succeed, someone else’ll hafta take y’home.”
Benjamin nodded, relief settling across his face. “Whatever it takes,” he agreed. “As I said, this isn’t about me.”
The sadness in Amos’s eyes deepened. “It never is, is it? Even when you’re like…”
This. The word hung between them, harsh and unspoken, and Benjamin stubbornly looked away. “Perhaps I’ll see you soon. If you’d be kind enough to fill me in on…events, I’d appreciate it.”
Amos nodded, then rose before gesturing for the men to head out.
Gritting his teeth, Benjamin curled his hands and closed his eyes while they finally, finally lifted him akin to a helpless newborn.
The stretcher swayed back and forth, handled as gently as possible, but the motion still sent shockwaves of discomfort throughout Benjamin’s body.
His bruised face ached, his head pounded, and his legs were disconcertingly numb, and while he was carried toward the cart like living waste, he swallowed the screaming sob that yearned to burst from his chest.
This time when Amos called on Clara, she was relieved to see him. “How’s Captain Hoskin?” she asked, approaching with clasped hands. “I’ve heard the guards whispering, but never loudly enough to create a sound picture.”
Amos shook his head, his eyes devoid of their typical mischief. “He’s real bad, Miss Boyd. Can’t even get up.”
“What?” Paling, Clara blinked at him in shock, her head swimming as she struggled to process this terrible news. “Is he…c-can he…?”
“Seems he can move every part but his legs,” Amos clarified, nodding. “The doc ain’t willin’ to give promises, but he said Ben might be able to walk someday…an’ even then, it’s doubtful it’d be without a cane.”
“Oh…” Drawing a hand to her breast, Clara closed her eyes and wavered. Bile burned the back of her throat, and she swallowed around it, suppressing the guilt for not saying anything, for not warning Benjamin in time. “Where is he?” she asked. “Can I see him?”
Amos shook his head. “’fraid not. He’s already on his way home to Freyview.” Catching her shock, the cabinetmaker continued, “He sent me to come get’cha. With the mutineers dead, the first place Bishop’s gonna look is here…with you.”
Clara’s mouth dropped. “Me?” she squeaked. “He doesn’t actually think I had a hand in this?”
“Maybe not as a ringleader, no, but certainly a key player,” Amos affirmed. “It’d be your word—nay, a Tory’s word—against everyone else’s, so things ain’t lookin’ good. That’s why I’ve come to take y’home.”
“No.” Defiant, Clara shook her head. “Absolutely not. If I’m deemed a traitor, I won’t bring that down upon my family, or more specifically, my sisters. Benjamin’s being taken to…Freyview, you said?”
“Aye.”
“Then that’s where I’m going, too.”
Amos’s eyes widened. “Now hold on—”
“Take me there, or I’ll find a way myself!” she spat. “I don’t hail from some lowly town, so it would be the perfect hiding place.”
“But—”
“Ever since I arrived, all I’ve done is listen to you. Correction, listen to blithering fools. Thus far, all it’s accomplished is crippling Captain Hoskin! So you’re going to listen to me for once.”
Amos huffed, rolling his eyes.
“And this…” Furiously, Clara balled up her fist and struck Amos soundly, causing him to cry out and stumble back.
“Jesus!” he exclaimed, clutching his throbbing nose. “What was that for?”
“That was for cutting me, you sniveling cur! It had better not scar!”
Scoffing, he withdrew his hand and squinted at the smear of red. “You…ya actually made me bleed.”
“The sooner you realize we all bleed red instead of blue, the better,” she spat. Nodding to the stockade door, Clara commanded, “Go on then. Find me a way out of here.”
Sneering, Amos wiped his bloody nose against his sleeve. “Very well. But if you’re thinkin’ o’ livin’ with Moony, I hope y’realize his father’s a reverend.”
“Men find me delightful,” Clara said, matching his sneer. “Even the holy ones.” With a wince, she looked at her hand and gave it a shake. “Your hard head hurt my knuckles…”
Finally, a hint of amused disbelief touched Amos’s eyes and he chuckled, taking her elbow. “C’mon then, bruiser. Let’s find you a way outta this ’ere camp.”