“Yes,” Dennison, a Virginian, said fervently.

“And Starbuck, he ain’t no Virginian,” Blythe went on. “Hell, he ain’t even a Southron. What’s the point of fighting a war to be rid of the Northerners if you get a Northerner giving you orders?” Blythe shook his head. “Don’t make no sense, leastwise none I can see.”

“I thought you liked Starbuck,” Dennison said resentfully.

“Hell, Tom, there ain’t no profit in being an open enemy, not of no man! Besides, it ain’t in my nature to act disgruntled, but that don’t stop me seeing what’s plain as a boil on a whore’s backside. If I was Swynyard, and thank the Holy Lord I ain’t, I’d take Starbuck away from this battalion and put you in charge.” In truth Blythe despised Dennison for a boastful coward, and found it hard even to sit close to the man whose face was a cluster of scabrous patches left over from his sores, but cowardice, as Blythe well knew, was no barrier to a man’s ambitions and he saw a desperate ambition in Dennison. “You should be in command,” he went on, “with Bobby Case as your second. Then you should all go back to Camp Lee and put in some proper training. That’s how to make this battalion into a fine fighting regiment, not Starbuck’s way.” Blythe shook his head as though in despair.

“Case is a good man,” Dennison said. In truth he was terrified of Case and had been somewhat astonished when Tumlin called him Bobby, but Dennison did understand that Case was now a natural ally in the private war against Starbuck.

“You won’t find a better man than Case,” Blythe agreed vigorously, “salt of the earth. And he respects you, Tom. Told me so.” Blythe sniffed as though he had been profoundly moved by Case’s confidence. “And I’ll tell you something else,” Blythe went on. “We shouldn’t be here.” He waved his cigar in a gesture intended to embrace the whole siege of Harper’s Ferry. “The battalion ain’t ready to fight. It ain’t equipped proper and it ain’t trained proper.” He spoke emphatically, and Dennison nodded eager agreement. “What this battalion needs,” Blythe said, “is a good few months training. The responsible thing to do, Tom, is to survive this campaign. Do no more than you have to, then take the battalion in hand for a winter’s training. I won’t be here to help you, because I’ll have gone south, but you and Bobby Case can get the job done. But to do it, Tom, you have to survive, and Starbuck’s mighty careless with men’s lives in battle. You saw that yesterday. Maitland and you had the sense to hold back, you had the sense to spare your men, but not Starbuck. He was waltzing up that hill like a preacher smelling a free ride in a brothel! He gets men killed, Starbuck does, and that ain’t the way to win wars. You know that and I know that.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Dennison asked, scratching at one of the flaky scabs on his face.