A Ballad of Love and Glory(32)

The young man looked toward the river and nodded in understanding.

Riley made haste to his task. Once safely inside Maloney’s tent, he breathed a sigh of relief. He shook Maloney violently to rouse him from loud snoring.

“Wake up, you foolish spalpeen.”

Maloney still snored.

“Wake up! Did you truly believe I would leave without ya!” Riley heard the sound of stirring in the other cot. He thought to wake up the German first but was startled to turn and find him already awake and lighting a candle. A glow was enough to see that it wasn’t Kirsch at all.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in this tent?” the soldier said in perfect American English.

Riley inhaled sharply. Of all the worst things that could happen, for Maloney to be stuck with a Yank for a tentmate. “Don’t be alarmed,” Riley said. “I’m just here for the ould fella, that’s all.” He shook Maloney harder, urging him to wake up.

“What the dickens? Riley is that you?” Maloney said as he opened his eyes.

“You told me to come back for you, and I did,” he said. From the corner of his eye, Riley watched the Yank moving steadily toward his musket leaning against the corner.

“Och, I beg pardon for lettin’ you down, lad. But in Heaven’s name, didn’t you know I’m sleepin’ with the enemy!”

“He’s a deserter, isn’t he?” The Yankee said as he grabbed his musket. He extinguished the candle and plunged them into total darkness.

With a quickness Riley hadn’t expected, Maloney leaped to throw himself atop his tentmate. Riley wrestled the musket away, though once he had it, he couldn’t see well enough who was who. “Quiet, or I’ll shoot!”

“And wake up the whole camp, too,” the Yank said. “Go on then, give yourselves away.”

He broke free of Maloney and threw himself against Riley, screaming as if to wake the dead. Riley punched him in the gut. The Yank fell and doubled over, gasping for breath.

“Do it, lad,” Maloney said.

Riley shook his head. “Hold him!” He snatched Maloney’s sheet and tore a large piece of it and rolled it into a ball, which he stuffed into the soldier’s mouth. Then he tore off another strip and tied the soldier’s hands and feet. “We’ll have his life, but on the battlefield,” Riley said as he stood up, wiping his forehead. “I have no relish for murder.”

He poked his head out of the tent. Sentries were at the other end of the row, far enough for him and Maloney to move on, as long as they hid in the shadows. “Come on then. Follow me.”

Maloney emerged from the tent carrying a bundle and handed it to him. “I took them from your tent afore the Yankees realized you were gone.”

Riley took the letters from Nelly and wrapped them in the oilcloth that had covered the leaflets. “I never thought I’d see them again!” he said. “Go raibh maith agat. I’m indebted to you.”

“Níl, you came back for me, you did.”



* * *



They made it safely back to the river, to the spot where the others had crossed. Maloney stood to the side, watching the water with terrified eyes. Riley put an arm around him.

“The river puts me in a tremble. Wish I had another drop in me. I’d be braver if I was tipsy, to be sure.”

“Nay, better to have your wits about ya.”

“Ever since my missus and daughter died, my heart’s been as mirthless as an empty bottle of whiskey. I reckon if I drown tonight, at least I’ll finally be with them again.”

“No one’s drownin’ tonight, ould fella,” Riley said.

Together they entered the river. The moon was swallowed up by the clouds once again and the darkness deepened. Maloney clung to Riley with astounding strength. “Here we go,” Riley said as he stroked through the black waters, shuddering at the sudden cold.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and all the Holy Martyrs, please preserve us!” Maloney said under his breath.

Riley battled the current while Maloney pressed all his weight on him. Riley could barely keep his head above water. He wanted to tell Maloney to let his body float, but opening his mouth meant taking deep gulps of water, hence he kept his lips closed and focused on his strokes.

“I can still see it,” Maloney whispered. “I can see the waves partin’ for them and then closin’ in on them forever!” Terrified, he tried to climb on top of Riley, plunging him deeper still. He struggled to get loose from Maloney’s hold on him, but the old man held on with the grip of death. Riley kicked and labored madly to get to the surface, his lungs screaming for air, but Maloney was a dead weight. The current pulled them along, and Riley knew that the sentries were downriver and he needed to swim harder, or they’d be caught. As they both sank into the water, with one last effort, he pushed Maloney off him so he could breathe, but when he returned to the surface, he was barely holding on to Maloney’s hand.

He took deep gulps of air and tried to get a better grip on his friend. “Don’t let go.”

“I can’t do it. I can’t!”

Then the river tore them asunder, and Maloney disappeared back into the black water. Riley dove after him, but he couldn’t see a thing.

He heard gunshots farther downriver and swam until he got ashore and crawled on his knees on the gravel, hiding amid a patch of reeds. He struggled to catch his breath, shivering in his wet clothes. Shame overcame him and soon tears burned in his eyes. I’ve let the river bear him away. May God have mercy on my soul.