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truths about Mercy Carver, she might have been sitting here desiring Jacob instead of detesting him. And had it not been for Margaret’s urgings, she might be satisfied with this loveless marriage, for it had always been loveless.
    As Margaret so rightly said, men had bestial instincts that quite simply compelled them to stick their rods into any ill-reputed woman they happened upon. These men usually died of disease, Margaret had also told her, and the sickness that took the unfaithful dogs of husbands to the grave often took their poor innocent wives along with them.
     
    “Jacob, have you no idea where you might be going eventually?” Belle asked.
    “I heard talk today about encampments being set up close to Richmond and stretching all the way over to Yorktown, but that’s all I know. I reckon we’ll be told soon enough where we’re heading.”
    “I wonder what they will do with y’all.” Belle sighed.
    “God only knows, Belle. I find myself at a loss to comprehend the minds of politicians and generals. I ask myself questions that they can answer but sadly I cannot. Where are the small arms with which to defend ourselves? All I’ve seen in the last few days are men arriving from the country to volunteer, carrying old smooth-bore muskets and carbines that can’t hit shit from any decent range. Excuse my tongue, ladies,” Jacob added quickly. “There has been some secret mass production going on that we don’t know about. It’ll be a fight just to get a decent weapon in our hands.”
    “Jacob, please – you’re scaring me,” Belle said.
    “Don’t fret, honey,” Henry said. “Jacob’s just looking at this the way any soldier would. I do believe this will end in no time at all. No government wants to lose money on a damn war, especially when the South’s revenue is so highly valued in Washington. You’ll see soon enough that this is just a spat. Lincoln will back down.”
    “Hendry, spat or no spat, I sure as hell won’t go into a fight without a decent rifle. I’ll end up blowing my own head off! Do you remember Pa’s old sixty-nine-calibre musket? I was sure he was going to kill himself with that thing. It’s still in the attic – he loved that gun.”
    “Yes, he did,” Hendry laughed. “It stood right next to his father’s eighteen twelve silver medal. I remember being caught with it pinned on my shirt. I couldn’t sit on my behind for weeks after Pa had finished with me.” Hendry laughed and then grew serious. “Jacob, I know you have worries about weapons and supplies, but I believe the Confederacy has been planning for this eventuality for quite some time. I have faith in them, and I have no doubt they will give you a big new shiny gun.”
    “Make fun all you want, Hendry,” Jacob said, his voice brimming with good humour, “but I maintain I still can’t figure out how the hell we’re supposed to go to war against the North when they have all the machinery and factories and we not much more than cotton buds. Dear God, just think about the logistics of putting together an army within days. There are horses, saddles, wagons, supplies, weapons, and victuals to think about – you don’t think we’ll be expected to eat cornbread and pork belly for six months, do you?”
    Belle laughed. “You do love your cornbread, Jacob.”
    “That I do, Belle.” Jacob turned his head and found Handel standing behind him. Handel’s bottom lip was pushed out in a disapproving pout, a sign that he had a powerful need to speak his mind about something. “Handel, go get Millie,” he said. “Tell her to make me cornbread right now. I do believe I will take some with me tomorrow.”
    “Cornbread? Why you ain’t gonna git no strength from cornbread, Massa Jacob. No, sir, I figure you be needin’ a whole lot of cow meat to keep you goin’ on that hos’ of yours. Ain’t no goodness in cornbread,” he muttered as he left the room.
    Jacob sipped his wine and looked at the faces around the