A Ripple In Time | Captain James Nicholls

Chapter Twenty-Three

"I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend."

Quiévrechain, France; 7 p.m.

They had rode through the countryside after everything was taken care of at port, the journey was tiring but as they arrived at the camp everything settled in and finally felt real. The war, the possibility of being killed, the fact that Izabella had now placed herself in danger. It all finally felt real. The company came to a woodland before a great plain of land that seemed to stretch on for eternity. Light filtered in through the trees, the sun was setting and soon the next day would be upon them. James slipped from Joey's saddle and praised the beast before handing the reins to an attending soldier and accompanying Jamie to the table and tent that had been set up for revising the plans if need be.

James looked down at the map that had been spread out and to the Sergeant Major who had organized the lines of battle and marked the placement of the enemy's camp. He placed a finger on a cluster of markings and looked back to James and Jamie, explaining that the target was the German eleventh division. The group was naught but three miles away, settled into their own encampment, unaware to the English forces that sought to destroy them. The goal was to slide behind German lines and advance from the south, tricky business no doubt when they would be in enemy territory.

The Captain was unsettled by Jamie's declaration that what had been arranged was excellent, but James could not look away from the map. "Numbers?" He knew that it was best to be realistic in this situation, a company too large and the element of surprised hardly mattered anymore. They needed to know more of their weaponry as well.

Singh looked at James for a moment, seeing the doubt in his expression. "Six hundred. Infantry." The Indian had high hopes that with the Calvary this would be an easy victory.

"Twice our size..." No matter the words Jamie had spoken it would not change the fact that they would be charging into an armed camp with twice the number of men. They would be riding to their deaths. James only had a moment to take everything in before Jamie was shouting orders for they would ride at dawn, to victory or to death.

The Captain could not sleep that night, he wished for his sketch book but he had sent it away to Devon before they had left the country with two sketches of Joey and a letter for Albert. It was the least he could do for the boy knowing that the odds of living through the entity of the war was slim. From his chest pocket he pulled out two items, the first was his sketch of Izabella. In the low light from the moon shadows seemed to be cast across the paper making her portrait look all the more realistic. The second item was the pocket watch she had given him, he carried it around more as a token than the purpose it was built for.

He spoke to Joey again, as was becoming habit, only this time his words were not as hopeful and the horse even had sadness in its eyes. James returned to his tent as to not evoke suspicion and laid his head down on the hard ground only softened by a thin blanket and without knowing it he closed his eyes.

"Belle?" She was there, lying next to him and they were back in London sitting before a warm fire, swaddled in a plethora of blankets that had been strewn onto the floor. 

"Yes, my darling?" Izabella leaned into him, her hand pressing gently into his cheek. She wore the dressing gown he had given her and the amethyst necklace, but what stole his attention was the ring on her finger. A promise.

"If this is a dream then I never wish to part from sleep." For some odd reason he knew this was a dream and nothing more, no matter how real it had felt. Her skin was soft under his fingertips but she only pulled back and looked on with a dismayed smile.