“Maitland’s no damned use,” Truslow said, spitting a stream of tobacco juice, “and he don’t like me neither.”

“Can’t think why.”

Truslow grinned. “He reckons I ain’t born to it. How was Richmond?”

“Hot,” Starbuck said, knowing that was not the answer Truslow wanted. “And I did see Sally,” he added.

“Reckoned you might. How is she?” The question was gruff.

“Living in luxury. Making money, learning to speak French, winding the world round her little finger.”

Truslow grimaced. “Never did understand her. Always reckoned I should have had a son, not a daughter.”

“She ain’t that much different from you,” Starbuck said, “just one hell of a lot prettier. She sends her love.”

Truslow grunted, then glanced at Starbuck’s left ear. “Someone thump you?”

“Tall man, third from the right, rear rank,” Starbuck said, jerking his head toward Captain Dennison’s Company A, which lay at the right of his line. “He reckoned he ought to run the battalion instead of me.”

Truslow grinned. “You put him down?”

“I thought of what you would do to him, then did it.”

“The hell you did. He’s still alive, ain’t he?”

Starbuck laughed. “And probably praying for a chance to put a bullet in my back.”

“Captain Truslow!” Colonel Maitland, mounted on his horse and with a drawn sword resting on his shoulder, trotted out from the Legion’s ranks. “To your company, if you please.”

Truslow spat. “Never reckoned I’d say it to you,” he said to Starbuck, “but you’d sure be welcome if you come back.”

“I’m working on it,” Starbuck said.

Truslow shambled back toward the Legion, ignoring Maitland, who trotted past him to raise a hand in greeting to Starbuck. “So you got them here?” Maitland said, gesturing at the Special Battalion.

“You ever thought I wouldn’t?”

Maitland ignored the question. Instead he turned and watched the skirmishers at work. “No problems here?” he asked.

The question had been asked lightly, but Starbuck sensed the nervousness behind the elegant Colonel’s words. This was Maitland’s first proper battle, though it hardly counted as a battle to Starbuck. The enemy guns were gone, the waiting Yankee infantry was probably taut as a cocked revolver’s leaf spring, and all this action promised to be was a simple advance with a few casualties as the price of the ground gained. What lay beyond the crest was another matter, but there should be no problems here. “Should be easy,” Starbuck said. A bullet whistled overhead and Maitland gave an involuntary wince that he hoped Starbuck had not noticed. “You know what he was aiming at, Colonel?” Starbuck asked.

“Us, I assume.”

“You,” Starbuck said. “Man on a horse with a sword. There’s a bastard up on that ridge with a long-barreled sharpshooting rifle. Right now he’s pushing the loader back onto the muzzle and reckoning he’ll do better next time.”

Maitland gave a wan smile, but did not move. Instead he glanced at Billy Tumlin, then back to Starbuck. “I’m glad you got Tumlin.”