At Some Disputed Barricade

Joseph had to rescue him. “Were very close. I know. I think we all know a great deal about loss, comforting one another…the responsibility.”

Faulkner rose to his feet.

“Yes, sir!” Snowy said loudly, before Faulkner could speak. “Captain Morel took it very hard when any of his men got killed…or injured, either. He’s a good man, sir. Oi hope—” He stopped abruptly, aware that he had nearly said too much. He blushed scarlet.

Hardesty had the briefest of smiles, little more than a softening of the eyes.

“I hope so, too,” Joseph said softly. “It is my responsibility to look after my men, and I will do everything I can to fulfill that duty. In your judgment and experience serving under him, did Captain Morel feel that same sense of duty to his men, Private Nunn?”

“For heaven’s sake!” Faulkner said furiously. “That’s an idiotic, self-serving question. The man’s a private! He’s hardly going to say no. He’s talking about his officer! And one who showed him some compassion when his brother was killed. Sir!” He appealed to Hardesty.

Joseph cut across them both. “It’s also an excellent opportunity to earn credit with his new commanders, and at the same time get a certain revenge, if he felt Captain Morel had been less than the leader he wanted. Private Nunn risks far more speaking for him than he would against him, sir.”

“You have an excellent point, Captain Reavley,” Hardesty conceded. He looked at Snowy. “Private Nunn, will you please tell me, in your own words, not Captain Reavley’s, what was your experience of Captain Morel as an officer.”

“Yes, sir.” Snowy stood very straight. “He was a hard soldier and he didn’t like any lip, but he could see a joke like anybody else. He expected you to be obedient, jump to it instant, loike, no slacking, no hesitating once you’d gone over the top. Always look after your own, help the wounded, bring everyone back if you could. Always looked out for his men. Be loyal to him, an’ he’ll be loyal to you, even to his life. Sir.”

“Thank you, Private Nunn.” Hardesty looked at Joseph.

For a moment Joseph hesitated. Was it better to reinforce what Snowy had said, or leave it as if Hardesty had done enough? Leave it. The deference to Hardesty was wiser.

“Thank you,” Joseph said aloud. “That was my point precisely, sir.” Awkwardly, still not quite sure, he sat down.

Faulkner stood up. He looked at Snowy with weary disgust.

“Do you believe mutiny is wrong, Private Nunn? Or let me put it this way, is your loyalty to your country, or to the Cambridgeshire regiment?”

“Oi reckon as they’re the same, sir,” Snowy answered.

“Well, Cambridgeshire may be your whole world, Private Nunn, but I assure you there is a great deal more of England than that!”

“Oi expect there is,” Snowy agreed steadily. “But all Oi know is Cambridgeshire and here, and maybe it’s all Oi’m like to know. Cambridgeshire’ll do me.”

There was a rumble of approval from the men in the room.

“So your loyalty is to a Cambridgeshire captain before the king!” Faulkner challenged, his face pink.

“Oi don’t know the king, sir,” Snowy told him unblinkingly. “An’ Captain Morel’s from up Lancashire somewhere.”

Faulkner stood motionless, unable to decide whether it was worth pursuing what seemed to be a fruitless course.

Joseph waited also, terrified Faulkner would go on and try to provoke Snowy into a mistake, or worse, into losing his temper. He had tied himself irrevocably to Morel, and through him to all the accused men. It would be disastrous. He stared across at Snowy, trying to will him to stay calm.

“Private Nunn,” Faulkner said again. “I ask you, do you condone mutiny? A simple yes or no will do.”

“Oi never thought of it, sir,” Snowy answered. “Oi trust Captain Morel. Oi know him. Oi’d go over the top if he told me to, any day. Oi have done. He wouldn’t order it if it weren’t necessary. He knows what he’s doing, and he respects his men, sir. Loike they do him.”

“That wasn’t what…” Faulkner began.

“You have the best answer you are going to get, Colonel Faulkner,” Hardesty told him. “If you have any further questions for Private Nunn, ask them.”

“No, sir. It seems pointless to ask. Except one thing.” He turned again to Snowy. “Private Nunn, do you have any idea why Corporal Geddes, alone among the accused men, should have wished to kill Major Northrup? You seem to know all your comrades so well, surely you know that?”

“No, sir, Oi don’t know,” Snowy answered. “But Oi don’t think Corporal Geddes is stupid. If he had a good reason in his own mind for thinking of something like that, he isn’t daft enough to tell me about it. He’d know Oi wouldn’t go along with it, sir.” It almost amounted to insolence, but not quite.

Faulkner gave up. “That’s all, Private Nunn.” He looked at General Hardesty. “Sir, since this defense claims that only Corporal Geddes was guilty of murder, perhaps Captain Reavley will provide a credible witness as to what possible motive he could have had. I have questioned him myself, and he denied it. I do not find Captain Morel credible, since his interest in the issue is that his own life depends upon it. Captain Reavley would testify, since he was apparently present when Geddes allegedly admitted to the crime. Then in the interests of both law and justice, I may cross-examine him on his testimony.”

The trap was sprung, tidily and completely. Joseph could not refuse him or he would appear to be denying what Morel had said, and the whole defense would collapse. And once Joseph was cross-examined, Faulkner would find a way of raising the escape again. Could Joseph lie? And if he did, would that jeopardize everything in the defense so far?

He had no choice. He was sworn, and briefly told them all that Geddes had said on the long journey back. No one interrupted him.

“A most interesting tale,” Faulkner said finally. “Did you believe him, Captain Reavley? Or is it Chaplain, in this case?”

“If you mean, am I breaking the sanctity of confession, no, I am not. If you remember, Colonel, Captain Morel was also present.”

“Oh, yes, of course, your onetime student, Captain Morel. You have a great loyalty, Captain Reavley. How does your loyalty to your calling, to the truth and honor you have spoken about so eloquently, compare with your loyalty to the ambulance driver who helped the mutineers to escape, and of course the murderer Geddes, as well?”

All movement in the room ceased. Everyone looked at Joseph.

He stared back at Faulkner, terrified that he might accidentally look at Judith.

The slightest misstep now, even a word, and Faulkner would have him.

“I do not know who helped them escape, Colonel,” he said.

“Come now,” Faulkner said tartly. “Is being disingenuous to this degree not morally the same as a lie? You may have taken great care not to have anyone repeat news to you, but are you telling this court that you really do not know who it was? Be very careful precisely where your loyalties lie, Chaplain!”

“You are quite right,” Joseph admitted. He could feel the sweat trickle down his face. Deliberately he relaxed his hands. Was Judith afraid he would betray her, even accidentally? “I have taken very great care indeed not to know who it was. And I have been successful,” he said levelly. “I can guess, but as you yourself have pointed out, most information comes to me in the way of confession, and I cannot repeat it. Not that anyone has confessed to that.”

“And you do not consider it your duty as an officer to report such a crime?” Faulkner said in amazement.

“No, sir. I consider it my duty as an officer to go after the men who escaped, and bring them back to face trial. Which I did. It redressed the situation, without betrayal of any trust.”

“Bringing them back for trial, and possible execution, was not a betrayal of their trust? You amaze me.” Faulkner’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.

“I persuaded them to come back freely,” Joseph corrected him, feeling the heat burn up his face. “For trial. I believe them to be innocent of mutiny or murder, and I hope this court will find them so.”

“Except Geddes! He didn’t come willingly!”