No Spot of Ground by Walter Jon Williams Read Free Book Online

Unauthorized, of course. It has achieved some success, but I never received so much as a farthing from it.”
    “I am surprised that such a thing can happen, sir.”
    Poe gave a bitter laugh. “It isn’t the money—— it is the brazen provocation of it that offended me. I hired a London solicitor and had the publisher prosecuted.”
    “I hope he was thrown in jail, sir.”
    Poe gave a smile. “Not quite. But there will be no more editions of my work in London, one hopes.”
    “I trust there won’t be.”
    “Or in France, either. I was being translated there by some overheated poet named Charles Baudelaire—— no money from that source, either, by the way—— and the fellow had the effrontery to write me that many of my subjects, indeed entire texts, were exactly the same as those he had himself composed—— except mine, of course, had been written earlier.”
    “Curious.” Moses seemed unclear as to what he should make of this.
    “This gueux wrote that he considered himself my alter ego .” A smile twisted across Poe’s face at the thought of his triumph. “I wrote that what he considered miraculous, I considered plagiarism, and demanded that he cease any association with my works on penalty of prosecution. He persisted in writing to me, so I had a French lawyer send him a stiff letter, and have not heard from him since.”
    “Very proper.” Moses nodded stoutly. “I have always been dismayed at the thought of so many of these disreputable people in the literary world. Their antics can only distract the public from the true artists.”
    Poe gazed in benevolent surprise at Major Moses. Perhaps he had misjudged the man.
    A horseman was riding toward him. Poe recognized the spreading mustachios of the aide he’d sent to Gregg and Law. The young man rode up and saluted breathlessly.
    “I spoke to General Law, sir,” he said. “His men were still eating breakfast. He and General Gregg have done nothing , sir, nothing !”
    Poe stiffened in electric fury. “You will order Generals Gregg and Law to attack at once !” he barked.
    The aide smiled. “Sir!” he barked, saluted, and turned his horse. Dirt clods flew from the horse’s hooves as he pelted back down the line.
    Poe hobbled toward the four messengers his brigadiers had sent to him. Anger smoked through his veins. “General Barton will advance at once,” he said. “The other brigades will advance as soon as they perceive his movement has begun. Tell your commanders that I desire any prisoners to be sent to me.”
    He pointed at Fitzhugh Lee’s aide with his stick. “Ride to General Lee. Give him my compliments, inform him that we are advancing, and request his support.”
    Men scattered at his words, like shrapnel from his explosion of temper. He watched them with cold satisfaction.
    “There is nothing more beautiful, sir,” said Major Moses in his ear, “than the sight of this army on the attack.”
    Poe looked with surprise at Moses; in his burst of temper he had forgotten the man was here. He turned to gaze at the formed men a few hundred yards below him on the gentle slope. They had been in garrison for almost a year, and their uniforms and equipment were in better condition than most of this scarecrow army. They were not beautiful in any sense that Poe knew of the word, but he understood what the major meant. There was a beauty in warfare that existed in a realm entirely distinct from the killing.
    “I know you served in Greece, sir,” Moses said. “Did the Greek fighters for liberty compare in spirit with our own?”
    Poe’s heart gave a lurch, and he wondered in alarm if his ears were burning. “They were—— indifferent,” he said. “Variable.” He cleared his throat. “Mercenary, if the truth be told.”
    “Ah.” Moses nodded. “Byron found that also.”
    “I believe he did.” Poe stared at the ground and wondered how to extricate himself. His Greek service was a lie he had encouraged to be published about