DUST SIFTED THE AIR ABOVE RICHMOND’S CENTRAL FAIR Grounds. The dust was being kicked up by the eleven regiments that were marching and countermarching on the massive field that had been abraded free of every last blade of grass, then pounded into a fine powder by the endless exercises of drill that Major General Robert Lee insisted inflicting upon the recruits who came to defend the Confederacy. The reddish brown dust had been carried by the wind to settle on every wall, roof and hedge within a half mile of the Fair Grounds so that even the blossoms of the magnolias that edged the site seemed to have been dulled into a curious pale brick color. Ethan Ridley’s uniform was powdered with the dust, giving the gray cloth a fleshlike tinge. Ridley had come to the Fair Grounds to find his plump and myopic half-brother, Belvedere Delaney, who was mounted on a sway-backed piebald horse, which he sat with all the elegance of a collapsing sack as he watched the regiments march smartly past. Delaney, though in civilian clothes, saluted the passing troops with all the aplomb of a full general. “I’m practicing for when I join the army, Ethan.” He greeted his half-brother, showing no surprise at Ridley’s sudden appearance in the city.

“You’ll not join the army, Bev, you’re too soft.”

“On the contrary, Ethan, I am to be a legal officer. I invented the post myself and suggested it to the governor, who was kind enough to have me commissioned. I shall be a captain for the moment, but I shall promote myself if I find that rank too lowly for a man of my tastes and distinction. Well done, men! Well done! Very smart!” Delaney called these encouragements to a bemused company of Alabamian infantry that was marching past the applauding spectators. A visit to these Fair Grounds was a popular excursion for the citizens of Richmond, who now found themselves living in the new capital of the Confederate States of America, a fact that gave especial pleasure to Belvedere Delaney. “The more politicians there are in Richmond then the greater will be the corruption,” he explained to Ridley, “and the greater the corruption, the greater the profit. I doubt we shall ever compete with Washington in these matters, but we must do our best in the short time God grants us.” Delaney bestowed a beatific smile on his scowling half-brother. “So how long shall you be in Richmond this time? I presume you will be using Grace Street? Did George tell you I was here?” George was Delaney’s manservant, a slave, but with the manners and demeanor of an aristocrat. Ridley did not really like the supercilious George, but he had to put up with the slave if he was to use his brother’s rooms on Grace Street. “So just what brings you to our fair city?” Delaney enquired. “Beyond the charms of my company, of course.”