Eye of the Raven by Eliot Pattison Read Free Book Online

a quill in his hand, gazing forlornly at a half-written letter.
    "So what is the tally of heathen bodies heaped about your captain?" Duncan asked, coming near.
    The confusion on the Virginian's countenance quickly changed to rancor as he recognized Duncan.
    "I once saw an officer tear up a letter being sent by a subordinate treating the loss of a recruit who drank himself to death," Duncan explained. "He explained that those back home must always believe the dead died as heroes, for king and country. He wrote a new letter reporting that the soldier died protecting a family of Episcopal missionaries, with six dead Indians piled at his feet."
    The Virginian, barely out of his teens, gestured to the sheet of paper in his lap. "He died at the hand of a savage while scouting safe passage for his troops. That will make him hero enough."
    Duncan studied the dead man's cousin. Was there a note of bitterness mixed with his remorse? "What senior officer leaves his troops behind to make a solitary scout?"
    "Do you not know who we are?"
    "Militia from Virginia."
    "We are, sir, Burke's Shenandoah Company. The senior Burke makes the rules."
    "And are you now the senior Burke?" Duncan watched the knot of men around the cook fire as he spoke, well aware that the brawny sergeant there had unfinished business with him.
    "Far from it, thank God. I do not even bear the name. My mother is a Burke. I am Hadley, Thomas Hadley. There're two other cousins here, both older than me."
    "But you are the one who cleaned the body, the one who is writing the difficult letter."
    "I had the misfortune of being home from my studies at the College of William and Mary when the company was being raised. My uncle offered a few extra shillings if I would be company clerk. In the past all the militia did was hold parades and ox roasts."
    "But here you are."
    "I protested when my uncle suddenly ordered us north. I resigned. I packed my books and was on my mule headed back toward Williamsburg when they rode to fetch me," Hadley explained in a hollow voice.
    "My uncle reminded me that we keep Virginia safe by fighting Indians in Pennsylvania and the Ohio country. He said my sacred duty was to chronicle the glory of the Burke expeditionary force. That's the way he speaks of us, like we are builders of empire instead of farmers and students. Following in the footsteps of Colonel Washington and General Braddock, who both led scores of Virginians to the glory of early graves in Penn's woods." Hadley's resentment was undisguised as he spoke of the first skirmish of the war, led by Washington, and the first battle, the bloody massacre on the Monongahela that had become the shame of the British army. "Making history on the military and political fields, my uncle reminded me as we left."
    "Political?"
    Hadley cast a confused glance at Duncan. "My cousin. Surely you knew. He was also to be senior treaty negotiator from the Virginia province."
    The words caused Duncan to pause and sit on the log beside Hadley. This particular Virginian on this particular day, Latchford had stated. "Tell me, Hadley, where did your cousin keep that little silver dagger?"
    "He had a loop sewn into the inside of his waistcoat, whereby to hang the sheath. Why?"
    "Because I think whoever killed him knew where to find it. It was that little dagger that killed him, by slicing deeper into the artery, through the wound made by the tomahawk. Did your captain not have any weapons?" Duncan kept the surly sergeant in sight.
    "A pistol, and an elegant rifle, a gift from his father, with his initials carved into the stock."
    "Where are they?"
    "The pistol was found in the bushes nearby. The rifle was gone.
    "We arrived minutes after the attack. We would have heard any shots. Captain Burke let his killer get close, without challenge."
    Hadley bit his lip.
    "I told you my friend didn't kill him. We were trying to help him."
    "It means nothing. The killer could have found the dagger by chance."
    "How will you feel,