The Medieval South [IC]

[SangMar]

Beaumont, Texas - The Path’s Texan Greeting

---

After several fruitless minutes of searching, the Path member had half a mind to give up: Beaumont was only a small town, not worth spending all the time in the world in. He was still on Main Street however, when a man - the mayor, unbeknownst to him, approached. Within a moment, the situation had escalated drastically - and the Path member soon found himself looking down the barrel of a gun. ’Friend or foe?’ The member thought to himself, ’How ridiculous. This is no way to act...’

While the Path member himself was also armed - his own Colt revolver secured discretely on his person, now wouldn’t be the best time to draw it: for one, he was in an unfamiliar area with little chance of assistance should a gunfight break out, and two, who knew who else could be nearby? They could easily come to this man’s aid instead of his. So he shrugged, and instead began to speak. “What kind of paranoia drives a man to pull a gun on someone innocently leading their horse through town?” The Path member called out to the man, “Perhaps you should ask yourself whether or not it’s the actions of folk like you that make people being out at night such an irregular occurrence...” Now, it wasn’t that this particular Path member relished confrontation, it was just that he wasn’t about to messed with in such an infuriating manner: and besides, there would be no anger back home if he were to respond in kind to this man, who’d started things off like this.

[Sarderia]

ARTHUR HENRY ROTSCHILD LEE
VISCOUNT OF PETERSBURG

---

BILTMORE PALACE

Frankly, Arthur was irritated by the response Longstreet gave him. Did I say something wrong? Absolutely not, as far as I can remember. "Of course your country would be represented, my Lord, it is the Dalton and Savannah railroad after all. I assure you that recruitment would come in huge droves, as many whose farms and plantations was closed will be working on the project. Now, since we're building a major railroad, economic incentives must also be placed to invite this industrial revolution Georgia is going towards. To make the Dalton and Savannah railroad more profitable, the Virginia Bank is offering to sponsor a railway depot in Atlanta and the enlargement of the Port of Savannah's logistics capacity. We wish to purchase a thirty-five percent stake og the port, but in return, we would sponsor the building of six new warehouses, cranes, and roads in the port. How do you think?"

[Sarderia]

EUGÉNE THIERRY BROUSSARD
MAYOR OF BEAUMONT

---

BEAUMONT

Eugene was relieved by the response that man had given. So, friend then. He lowered his revolver and raised his hands to show he's already unarmed. The man is clearly not a Ranger - he does not even know the heated events that led to the town becoming like this. And Boykin's Rangers are not known for their kindness and temperance, after all. If it was one of Boykin's he'd been shot dead at the road, Mayor or not. "So yau ain't from around here then, pal. Come over and park that horse of yours right here," Eugene pointed at the small horse station beside the City Hall. "We rarely got strangers comin' down here anymore. Not after that," he remarked. "You dragging that horse through the road at night, thought you'd been a freakin' bandit. Long story short. Some railroad workers got mad, attacked the entire city's supplies, even them priests got wounded too. Folks are so scared shitless that we.. got rid of them. Thought some evil had possessed 'em. Town's all God-fearing and fasting and bible reading all night long now, which explains why you don't meet no one down here. Just like the end times, eh? Book of Revelation. There's a small saloon probably still open nearby, though folks very rarely got out these times. You wanna check it out or nah?" Eugene, back in his southern accent, would try to keep his identity as Mayor hidden from this stranger. After all, Boykin spies - or would-be Boykin spies - are everywhere. He could trust no one.

[Dentali]

ARTHUR HENRY ROTSCHILD LEE
VISCOUNT OF PETERSBURG

---

BILTMORE PALACE

Frankly, Arthur was irritated by the response Longstreet gave him. Did I say something wrong? Absolutely not, as far as I can remember. "Of course your country would be represented, my Lord, it is the Dalton and Savannah railroad after all. I assure you that recruitment would come in huge droves, as many whose farms and plantations was closed will be working on the project. Now, since we're building a major railroad, economic incentives must also be placed to invite this industrial revolution Georgia is going towards. To make the Dalton and Savannah railroad more profitable, the Virginia Bank is offering to sponsor a railway depot in Atlanta and the enlargement of the Port of Savannah's logistics capacity. We wish to purchase a thirty-five percent stake og the port, but in return, we would sponsor the building of six new warehouses, cranes, and roads in the port. How do you think?"

"I am aware of the massive recruitment that would take place to build the rail. I am simply asking that you hire exclusively Georgian citizens for the Georgian portions of the track until that supply of workers dries up. Thats non negotiable."

"As for the deport and port purchase I am not inclined to let out of state interests purchase too much of the stake. I would only be willing to allow the sale of 25% of the stake maximum, in exchange for whatever building projects you would feel appropriate."

[SangMar]

EUGÉNE THIERRY BROUSSARD
MAYOR OF BEAUMONT

---

BEAUMONT

Eugene was relieved by the response that man had given. So, friend then. He lowered his revolver and raised his hands to show he's already unarmed. The man is clearly not a Ranger - he does not even know the heated events that led to the town becoming like this. And Boykin's Rangers are not known for their kindness and temperance, after all. If it was one of Boykin's he'd been shot dead at the road, Mayor or not. "So yau ain't from around here then, pal. Come over and park that horse of yours right here," Eugene pointed at the small horse station beside the City Hall. "We rarely got strangers comin' down here anymore. Not after that," he remarked. "You dragging that horse through the road at night, thought you'd been a freakin' bandit. Long story short. Some railroad workers got mad, attacked the entire city's supplies, even them priests got wounded too. Folks are so scared shitless that we.. got rid of them. Thought some evil had possessed 'em. Town's all God-fearing and fasting and bible reading all night long now, which explains why you don't meet no one down here. Just like the end times, eh? Book of Revelation. There's a small saloon probably still open nearby, though folks very rarely got out these times. You wanna check it out or nah?" Eugene, back in his southern accent, would try to keep his identity as Mayor hidden from this stranger. After all, Boykin spies - or would-be Boykin spies - are everywhere. He could trust no one.

Beaumont, Texas - The Emerging Calm

---

The relief was mutual, and soon, the Path member did just that - tying up on his horse at the station to make sure it wouldn’t run amok. “No, I don’t drink.” He replied simply, which was a lie - he did, on occasion - but not when he’d be in a town with individuals whose preferred greeting was a gun to the temple. “Ah...” There was something odd about that statement - something which the Path Member wanted an answer to. “Well, if the people are so fearful, then why are you out here at this hour?” It was an honest question, for the Path Member had no way of knowing that the gentleman before him was actually the mayor of Beaumont - and therefore, would naturally be kept busy by numerous matters.

That being said, if whatever the man said sounded plausible, the Path Member would also give him his name - it was only fair after all, and the town they were in was only scarcely bigger than Paradise Under-the-Sky, so maybe they could help each other. Well, probably not - since if he had to guess, they were about 400 or so miles apart: even if home was more or less straight to the north from here. Hopefully though, they could work around that - though privately, the member doubted that the town would have any need for allies in Arkansas - especially those on the western fringes.

[Alaroma]

The Texas Rangers

Alan looked at his other Rangers, confused as to the argument he was making. “Are you actually complaining Beaumont doesn’t have the same representation as Dallas? Let alone multiple of the largest cities in the Kingdom? Your county population is barely half the size of Sherman. Each minister in the House of Commons represents 10,000 people. So no, Beaumont doesn’t have a Representative for itself. Meanwhile San Antonio and Galveston have multiple. However none of that matters considering the ability to deploy law enforcement is under the Jurisdiction of the Minister of Public Safety, another elected member of the Legislature. You have elected officials, you just have to share them with other counties. I shouldn’t have to explain this basic civil lesson to you, you’re a citizen with the right to vote. As a result of those elections, I am here on behalf of a elected and duels appointed member of that legislature who has the authority in this matter. Just because the King’s faction has the most supporters in the Parliament over this issue doesn’t mean you’re not represented. In this city, men were executed without trial, and the Minister of Justice and the Minister of Public Safety find that unacceptable, as well as many other parliamentarians. It’s not democracy when you disobey the law, and ignore the popularly elected legislature, when it is asking for something so basic as trial by jury to be enforced. And it is tyranny at best when you use majoritarianism to execute fellow citizens without trial! You elected your representatives, you signed on as a part of the Kingdom of Texas, and the Confederacy. There are higher powers than the city government, and the county government. That’s a simple truth recognized across the world. From the tyrannies of Europe, to the idealists at the beginning of the Confederacy. The legislature called for men to defend the south, and they obeyed. And not only that, it’s hypocritical. You blew a horn on what you did here to the entire Kingdom, and demanded attention. Well you’ve gotten your attention, and the Legislature sees that it’s only fit things are done it’s way. Do you want to be compensated for the damage caused? Because you won’t be getting it with no investigation, and no trials by the state appointed authorities. The Boykin corporation has promised compensation if our investigation proves their employees went off the rails. However that also includes why their employees were killed without trial, and finding out what happened to them. If you think the mob won’t be kind, then help us arrest the men involved. I’m trying to help you out, I really am. But you won’t be anything but the crazies who lynched the railroad workers if you don’t let me do my job, and even help make sure it’s done safely. Don’t become the people who refuse to work with state law enforcement under the powers of said law enforcement. The city has already disregarded rule of law once, don’t need to do it again.”

[Sarderia]

ARTHUR HENRY ROTSCHILD LEE
VISCOUNT OF PETERSBURG

---

BILTMORE PALACE

Arthur sighed a little, discreetly enough not to be notified by Longstreet. Everyone is so inclined to protectionism these days. "Georgian citizens, of course. I hardly found the need to bring more out of state workers to the railroad. The railroad is entirely within Georgia after all. As for the port, twenty-five percent is sufficient for enough enlargement of the warehouses, se we agreed then. However I must ask whether it is allowed to form another shipping company in the Port of Savannah? We must prepare for the influx of new cotton, corn and all goods that came with the railroad, and fortunately I have several acquaintances in Britain and France to sell Georgian products."

EUGÉNE THIERRY BROUSSARD
MAYOR OF BEAUMONT

---

BEAUMONT

"The name's Gene. Gene Browster." It was what he's called back in Louisiana when he was still a farmhand working the tobaccos for his father. Eugene stroked his beard and studied the man. Another curious person - I guess he's no more a Boykin than I am. "I work at the City Hall. Some clerk and administration jobs. It's plenty boring after all, but the good news is I'm nicely paid." That's not a lie either. A Mayor is technically the chief clerk. "The bad news, well, I'm wondering 'round here at night like some strange person, checking on the Mayor's papers and telegrams and all that. Tell me, pal, where do you come from? Somewhere far away, I'd guess, so I'd rather curious about what're you doin' on good old Beaumont. Only trains and train men goes round these parts usually."

[Dentali]

ARTHUR HENRY ROTSCHILD LEE
VISCOUNT OF PETERSBURG

---

BILTMORE PALACE

Arthur sighed a little, discreetly enough not to be notified by Longstreet. Everyone is so inclined to protectionism these days. "Georgian citizens, of course. I hardly found the need to bring more out of state workers to the railroad. The railroad is entirely within Georgia after all. As for the port, twenty-five percent is sufficient for enough enlargement of the warehouses, se we agreed then. However I must ask whether it is allowed to form another shipping company in the Port of Savannah? We must prepare for the influx of new cotton, corn and all goods that came with the railroad, and fortunately I have several acquaintances in Britain and France to sell Georgian products."

"Of course you may form a shipping company in Savannah, competition will be good for the people of my state and the people of the South. You would be a welcome addition to the port. If you have your people come to Atlanta to sign the contracts we will have them all ready for you."

[The United Empire of Exucular]

Somewhere Along the Virginia Border

A waitress walked up to Newton Knight with his order of black coffee. As she set the drink down on the table she gave the governor a quick one over before turning around and heading for the backroom. She disappeared through the doorway and a few moments later Robert Astor III, Knight would know him as Thoth, came out.

Robert walked to Knight’s section in the corner and sat down across from him. In the light Robert could see more clearly who it was. The waitress wasn’t lying, it really was the governor of Maryland. Robert never met the man in person, but he had seen his face in the papers. Plenty of times in fact considering how famous he was. Former southerner who seceded from the Confederacy before traveling hundreds of miles and becoming a union governor was something the newspapers milked for months after he was sworn in.

“Sorry for staring sir. Wasn't expecting you of all people to make the trip here, being so close to Confederate territory that is. Trust the journey out this was wasn't too much of a hassle?"

[Vienna Eliot]

Biltmore Palace

The banquet was already winding to an end by the time word reached Biltmore. Some of the courtiers had departed. Others were considering local breweries at which to continue the festivities. Still some stood to the sides of the ballroom, discussing private matters. George, a bit too sober for his liking, sat quiet at his table. He had little interest in conversation, be it small talk or important. He was picking at his third serving when a cadre of White Knights entered. The boy can eat, he heard one woman say as she passed by, and he could. He was accustomed to seconds.

"Your Imperial Majesty," a colonel shouted as he and some other guards strode toward the Emperor. Some of the stragglers turned to look, and George's eyes grew wide. He looked to his right at Jackson, then stood. "What— what is it?" he blurted out.

The colonel bowed to the Emperor, then spoke in a hushed tone. "Dissidents have attacked Camp Price, and the Nashville-Asheville and Asheville-Salisbury Lines have been severed. The Imperial Army and the Order of the White Knights stand ready at your service."

George did not like that, and fainted.

[Dentali]

Biltmore Palace

The banquet was already winding to an end by the time word reached Biltmore. Some of the courtiers had departed. Others were considering local breweries at which to continue the festivities. Still some stood to the sides of the ballroom, discussing private matters. George, a bit too sober for his liking, sat quiet at his table. He had little interest in conversation, be it small talk or important. He was picking at his third serving when a cadre of White Knights entered. The boy can eat, he heard one woman say as she passed by, and he could. He was accustomed to seconds.

"Your Imperial Majesty," a colonel shouted as he and some other guards strode toward the Emperor. Some of the stragglers turned to look, and George's eyes grew wide. He looked to his right at Jackson, then stood. "What— what is it?" he blurted out.

The colonel bowed to the Emperor, then spoke in a hushed tone. "Dissidents have attacked Camp Price, and the Nashville-Asheville and Asheville-Salisbury Lines have been severed. The Imperial Army and the Order of the White Knights stand ready at your service."

George did not like that, and fainted.

James Longstreet
Biltmore Palace

"The Emperor!" yelled the Duke seeing the Emperor fall and rushing over "What happened? Quick fetch a doctor!" he knelt beside his fallen Emperor and immediately inspected him for any sign of distress before turning towards the colonel "What happened? What did you do?"

[Sarderia]

ARTHUR HENRY ROTSCHILD LEE
VISCOUNT OF PETERSBURG

---

BILTMORE PALACE

"It is settled, then. I look forward for more cooperation between us, Duke Longstreet. In fact, I have a mind to take up residence in Georgia, closely watching the railroad's development. Can't be a businessman without taking care of our business." Arthur sipped his champagne. Right when he heard the colonel shouted. What? Dissidents? Attacking the Ashville to Nashville line? Jesus Christ, it's the East Tennessee, Virginia, and Georgia rail he's talking... Arthur was swamped with fear. He quickly approached his butler and guards. "Asheville to Nashville? Those are my rails, Goddamn it! You have a battalion with you coming down here. There's no use waiting for the Emperor's troops. Go and see whatever the hell happened with those rails, and capture them all - the ones who wouldn't back down." His whole career, he's always been the cordial and smiling banker, generous to give coin to almost everyone. Arthur was the one who would fund insurrections - and now dissidents are destroying his property. And this shit happened under my own nose.

Almost if as planned from the start, the Emperor fainted and fell. This day couldn't turn any more worse. He approached the Emperor silently, as Longstreet screamed to the colonel. "He's unconscious, my Lord. We need a physician immediartely. And my good fellow the colonel didn't do anything... except storming in and telling us all the Asheville branch of my railroad is destroyed."

[Alaroma]

Benjamin Boykin: King of the Texans

Chapter One: Den of Wolves

---

I myself was shocked by the Emperor’s sudden fainting, but also a tad disappointed. That colonel sure made a fuss in getting the Emperor’s attention, and when he did, the boy fainted. If this told me anything, either the young Emperor was with some sort of health condition, or he was weak hearted. If it was the later, to say that was a disaster for the Southern Project would be an understatement. However as it was soon revealed that partisans had launched attacks, and severed local railroads. They’ve become so damn bold........

I looked to a servant standing their in shock nearby, and I shook my head. “Well? What are you waiting for? Go get some help!” Nodding, the man ran out of the room. I went over, to look at the Emperor’s unconscious body, and a sense of utter dread came over me. Things as they were now wouldn’t save the Confederacy. We were damned to Union subjugation if we didn’t change course soon, and I didn’t see that kind of change coming soon.

[Sanabel]

Stonewall Jackson

---

Coronation Banquet, Biltmore Palace

Jackson was about ready to retire to his chambers after a long evening of sitting at the right hand of the Emperor, when he was bolted out of late-night weariness by the abrupt entry of the Colonel. He watched and listened stoically as the man conveyed the urgent news and the young Emperor promptly fainted. He had dealt with partisans before in the Blue Ridge Wilds under his lordship, but nothing this grave.

Ignoring the young boy and the hysterical attendees who rushed to his side, Jackson turned to his loyal friend and fixer the Colonel Mercer. “Mercer,” he said calmly, “send a rider out to where the detachment of the Roanoke Rifles are encamped south of Woodfin. Order them to break camp, and immediately establish a new defensive line from Black Mountain to Weaverville. We cannot allow the partisans to reach the palace. After you’ve done that, I you are to ride for Lexington. I will keep Laura here by my side, but there is no man I trust more than you to mobilize the militias and protect my family in my absence. I am regretful in my inability to return home to protect my kin, but there are far greater responsibilities for me here.”

After that was handled, Jackson quickly surveyed the hysteria.

“Longstreet!” He called to the former General and brother-in-arms. “Leave His Majesty’s care to the womenfolk.”

Calmly, he walked to the court usher and the colonel who had brought the news.

“Colonel, currently our men are scattered. To the best of your ability, put out an order to the general staff for the battalion stationed at Camp Price to rendezvous with the Roanoke Rifle outside of Weaverville, and to establish a new defensive line until our forces can be mobilized to retake Camp Price. The partisans want us scattered and unorganized, for that is the way these ungodly men fight. Now go.”

The general in Jackson was coming out again. It had always been difficult to repress, and the impending conflict only made it more difficult. However his foremost responsibility was that of a statesman. So, he turned to the usher and said “Prepare the Imperial Chambers. Since the Emperor is...clearly incapacitated, I am evoking my responsibility as Chancellor of the Council and I am calling a meeting of said council.”

With that, he patted the usher on the back and turned to the remaining nobles. “Gentlemen, given the present state of the Emperor, I am hereby calling an extemporaneous meeting of the Imperial Council of the South, and will assume presiding duties as Chancellor until the Emperor holds the faculties necessary to partake. Duke Longstreet, and any other nobles recognized by His Majesty hold the right to attend and speak at the meeting of the Council, as per imperial law. I urge all of you to join me in the Council Chambers within the hour.”

---

Council Chamber, Biltmore Palace

With the willing members of the Imperial Council gathered, Jackson took the presiding seat at the head of the great mahogany table. As is customary, he began proceedings with a few remarks of his own.

“Gentlemen, we are gathered here on the first evening of the resign of Emperor George Washington Vanderbilt, first of his name to rule. Now, many of you may point to this as a bad omen- that on the first night of his reign, our defenses would be broken. However, this is nothing but a pre-ordained sign from the Lord that the South must stand united! The survival of our people, our culture, and our way of life is at stake. And so, for that reason, I urge unity of this council, and I urge a quick and just response to the recent cowardly attacks by Appalachian partisans. I call upon the members of this council such as the revered Duke Longstreet to send reinforcements to North Carolina, as a show of Southern unity and strength in handling this crisis.”

[The United Empire of Exucular]

Council Chamber, Biltmore Palace

Bernard Kelsey sat among the assembled nobles in the chamber. It was the the opening moments of a new era and bloodshed had already been spilled, and so close to Biltmore no less. Bernard had done work close to Appalachia in the past. Helping to construct railroads through Tennessee for Archduke Nathan Bedford Forrest. The lines weren't necessarily close to the Appalachia side of the state, Bernard doubted they would come that far out of the region. Nonetheless, he would need to contact Forrest and if the Archduke asked he would help improve security to the best he could on such short notice.

"Chancellor, what intelligence do we have on these Appalachian Partisans? Do we know anything of their numbers? How well supplied they are?"

[Sarderia]

ARTHUR HENRY ROTSCHILD LEE
VISCOUNT OF PETERSBURG

---

BILTMORE COUNCIL CHAMBER

"Based on the facts that they have managed to attack a postion of the East Tennessee, Virginia, and Georgia railroad, much more one so close to the Emperor's residence, I would assume they are sufficient in numbers. Asheville is quite a mountainous region of North Carolina as well, so they could easily disperse to the Appalachians. Moreover, I fear for the security of the railroad operators." My employees no less. "I have a portion of the 25th Virginia Cavalry in Asheville as guards and scouts available. The Lord Chancellor could exercise command over my units as he sees fit, to aid the skrimish effort against these partisans."

[Sanabel]

Council Chamber, Biltmore Palace

Bernard Kelsey sat among the assembled nobles in the chamber. It was the the opening moments of a new era and bloodshed had already been spilled, and so close to Biltmore no less. Bernard had done work close to Appalachia in the past. Helping to construct railroads through Tennessee for Archduke Nathan Bedford Forrest. The lines weren't necessarily close to the Appalachia side of the state, Bernard doubted they would come that far out of the region. Nonetheless, he would need to contact Forrest and if the Archduke asked he would help improve security to the best he could on such short notice.

"Chancellor, what intelligence do we have on these Appalachian Partisans? Do we know anything of their numbers? How well supplied they are?"

“From what I understand, they are a band of irregulars utilizing asymmetrical tactics, with relatively small numbers. They took our Imperial soldiers at Camp Price by surprise at dawn, practically killing our men where the slept. They are clearly a band of cowards- but it is important that we stamp them out as promptly as possible to avoid the Union thinking up any ideas of re-invasion. We are waiting for more information from the West, but lines of communication are slower now that the rail lines appear to have been severed.”

[Sanabel]

ARTHUR HENRY ROTSCHILD LEE
VISCOUNT OF PETERSBURG

---

BILTMORE COUNCIL CHAMBER

"Based on the facts that they have managed to attack a postion of the East Tennessee, Virginia, and Georgia railroad, much more one so close to the Emperor's residence, I would assume they are sufficient in numbers. Asheville is quite a mountainous region of North Carolina as well, so they could easily disperse to the Appalachians. Moreover, I fear for the security of the railroad operators." My employees no less. "I have a portion of the 25th Virginia Cavalry in Asheville as guards and scouts available. The Lord Chancellor could exercise command over my units as he sees fit, to aid the skrimish effort against these partisans."

Jackson nodded. There was something of a silver lining to the crisis- his long-seated desire for increased military centralization of the Empire could come into fruition.

“That would be much appreciated, Viscount. We are currently using the fort at Weaverville as a rendezvous point, until we rebuild the lines and decide upon further action.”

[Federal States of Xathuecia]

James Churchill Conway-Johnson
Archduke of Arkansas

---

The Coronation Banquet
BILTMORE PALACE

---

James had been sitting silently to the far left of the new Emperor, far removed from the action and chatter. Perhaps it was a metaphor for the way Arkansas saw themselves within the greater scheme of the Southern machine or perhaps it was James' dislike of all this southern pleasantries. It was probably many things, for example, the Archduke had been schooled in Chicago, learning medicine in one of the beating industrial hearts of the Union. As much as his family claimed to the Confederate patriots in the Archduchy that this had no bearing on his judgement or his worldview, that was all a carefully crafted lie. Of course being in a Union city during his formative years had left an impression. How could they not? He saw the rapid industrialization of the city, the lives of free black men without any anger or resent from his own kind. It was a utopia to him, a place where wealth was possible with hard work. But it would need to be reconciled with the Arkansawyer way of life, though it was far more Western than Southern in his opinion. The South was plantations as far as the eye could see...Arkansas not so much anymore. In fact, the expansive deserts and Great Plains laid in their stead, with the Indian tribes on their borders. So let them decry the Archduchy as not Southern! It was not at all, it was a conglomeration of the possibilities of the West!

As James listened to the droning on of the nobility around him, allowing his thoughts to go wherever they wandered off to, he began to think of retiring for the night. He was not much of a partier, not even in his youth. In fact, much of the Conway-Johnson clan was not one to enjoy heavy drinking. Maybe Christmas or New Year's, but few other moments even led to the entire family gathering together. Perhaps it was that Western workhorse attitude. Perhaps it was because they never had slaves to do their jobs for them. Everything the family had accomplished was from hard work, from hard fought elections and building. That was probably enough mind wandering for today thought James, immediately tuning back into the conversation to avoid fueling his own dislike of the Southern system. While hardly the highest ranking noble at the banquet, he drew a small crowd mostly by his own title as a Duke of an entire former state and the mystery that shrouded the Conway-Johnsons. As they spoke of the new Emperor's potential future plans and debating between their different hearsay about what he intended to do, James' eye settled on the man himself.

It was at that moment that the scene unfolded, with a man telling the Emperor of news and his subsequent collapse. James immediately stood, not necessarily out of a desire to help but to see better what had happened. The room seemed to explode into a frenzy, as the nobility rushed to his aid and the old Stonewall Jackson swiftly commanded orders to the messenger. James was not entirely sure of what had occurred but he looked around, trying to find his more boisterous uncle and his nephew, a pair who often accompanied him on these diplomatic matters. As he saw women enter to care for the emperor, James began to hear the rather obvious whisperings of an attack on the Southern defenses and the severing of railroads from the rest of the guests. He immediately sought to find his guests, immediately worried of what such an attack could mean, an emboldened resistance? A revolt? A Union-sponsored attack? And while he had never given it much thought, James' mind raced of his own security. Unlike many other nobility, he rarely travelled with any armed guard. Not that he was ever unarmed but he was hardly protected when compared to others of his rank. Pushing the thoughts away and hearing the old General's statement, James sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

---

Council Chamber
BILTMORE PALACE

---

James entered the room, reviewing the room. Given the shroud of mystery that Arkansas often resided in and their largely autonomous role in the greater Southern way of things, he knew very few of the nobles close outside of the Texans and Louisianians. And even then, his father had known them better. As he listened to the General rattle off with the Duke of Charleston and Viscount of Petersburg speak too, he stayed quiet. Already, he could where this could go, a summons for troops and garrisons across the South. And while Arkansas held very few regiments, the Family had made quick work in devising a militia initiative if there was ever a need to raise a larger Arkansawyer force. But he already was careful to even reveal that, not wanting to send any of his own people to die for insurrections a state and half away. Even if the railroads connecting Little Rock and Tennessee would likely help them reach these positions quickly. So James simply listened for now.

[Sarderia]

EUGÉNE THIERRY BROUSSARD
MAYOR OF BEAUMONT

---

BEAUMONT

"Does it look that way to you that we agree about what Boykin's Minister said about us?" Sheriff Lambert said. The Beaumont policemen are forming a closed line now. However, there is a lingering, unspoken threat that the policemen, larger in numbers, would easily finish and scatter the Rangers sent to arrest Mayor Broussard. "Seems like your Minister won't heard the complaints of Galveston and San Antonio's representatives either. Well, our offer's still there. Either you want to make a case against the Mayor here, in Beaumont courthouse," he pointed his thumbs back to Main Street, "or you leave. There's no compromise either, gentlemen. The only people that could rule us out is Duke West, or the King if he's present here. Unfortunately for you both are still in North Carolina. So there's that. Accept or go, our Mayor's ain't going anywhere soon."

[Dahyan]

Washington Carroll Tevis
Special Agent in service of Governor Knight
West Virginia, January 1877

Crossing the state border between Maryland and West Virginia, a well-groomed man looked at the Appalachian mountain ranges ahead.

Though his facial hair was styled as befitting the gallant cavalryman that he was, and his features would be considered quite handsome by many a dame, his eyes and general demeanour revealed a rough and storied life.

It was Washington Carroll Tevis, also known as Charles Carroll de Taillevis, also known as Nassim Bey. It depended on who you asked, and where you were asking.

A Catholic of Irish descent born in Philadelphia, Tevis had spent much of his life abroad, as a soldier of fortune. Traveling the world and offering his considerable services to whomever he thought worthy of serving.

A West Point graduate and up and coming career soldier in the US cavalry, he had instead opted for adventure, and joined the Ottoman army. Leading a force of irregular Bashi-bazouk forces in the Crimean War, Tevis made a great impression on the Turks. His successes as a cavalrist and commandera gained him the tank of Lieutenant Colonel in the Ottoman military, as well as three military decorations from the Sultan.

Returning to the US in 1859, Tevis eloped with and married the daughter of a wealthy Philadelphia family and rejoined the US army with the rank of Colonel. In the Civil War, he had commanded the 4th Delaware Volunteer Infantry, and inflicted heavy damage on Confederate supply routes through his daring raids.

It was the war that brought him to Maryland. In 1863 he was appointed to lead the 3rd Maryland Volunteer Cavalry, a unit entirely composed of "galvanized Yankees": Confederate prisoners of war who had agreed to join the Union army. These tough and loyal forces, often greatly disillusioned by the true face of the Confederacy, served under him with incredible tenacity and fierce resolve.

It was with the 4th Cavalry that Tevis was also in charge of peacekeeping and anti-espionage operations in Maryland. And it was here he had cracked down ruthlessly on Confederate sympathizers, including Copperhead Democrats. Tevis had overplayed his hand when he issued an official proclamation stating that only a vote for the Unconditional Union Party was a morally right decision, and had even arrested several Democrat candidates. The Union military brass had Tevis arrested for the interference in the democratic process of the state, but he had never apologized for what he considered both necessary and morally just.

When the war ended, the Pennsylvanian was approached by the Irish republican freedom fighters of the Fenian Brotherhood. As Adjudant General of the Brotherhood, Tevis helped the Fenians procure large amounts of weaponry which were used in Irish attacks on British positions up in Canada. Following this, Tevis served as a private in the Papal Zouaves and advocate of the cause of the Papal States, for which he was elevated to the rank of Count by the Pope himself.

When the Franco-Prussian War broke out, Washington Tevis served in the armies of Napoleon III as a Brigadier General, and was wounded in battle against the Germans. Though the French Empire lost the war, Tevis was rewarded with French citizenship and membership of the Legion of Honour. Subsequently, he was summoned by US advisors to the Khedive of Egypt to head the Military Engineering School in the country, which he did successfully until 1873.

The famed and hardy war veteran eventually made his way back home and took up journalism in Philadelphia and New York. Until Newton Knight, famous anti-Confederate guerilla leader and newly elected Governor of Maryland, reached out to him. Ever since, Washington Carroll Tevis had been a special agent on the payroll of the Radical Republican governor, dealing with threats from Confederate agents and spies, as well as aiding escaped slaves and political dissidents trying to reach the North. Reliable, efficient and discrete, Tevis was the ideal person for ensuring the security of the frontier state.

Today, Knight had entrusted him with a highly confidential assignment: making contact with the Appalachian Partisan Rifles, and try to establish a form of cooperation between Maryland and the Unionists bushwhackers of Benedict Church.

The only issue now was finding where the hell they were. Tevis suspected that the best way to get to them, was by accessing the Appalachian mountain ranges through the Union state of West Virginia, and of necessary attempt to sneak into Imperial territory that way. He had no idea where the Partisans may be holed up, of course. That's why Nassim Bey was not out here planning to find them at all. The plan was to let the guerrillas find him.

Picking up the pace, Tevis continued along the road south-west. Destination: the Blue Ridge Mountains.

[Lux Pulchrae]

Vincent Duchamp, Prince Lord of Baton Rouge
Biltmore Palace

---

Drinking wine off to the side, Vincent's attention was grabbed by the troop of men that walked into the room and towards the emperor. A short moment later, a thud was heard. Through the shouting and heavy amount concerned peoples, and someone shouting "The Emperor!", he could only deduce that Vanderbilt had fainted. "Oh my God." he said rather plainly, no real emotion in his voice and no real reaction other than crossing himself out of the respect for the emperor.

Council Chambers
Moments later, Jackson had called on any available nobles to meet in the council chambers to discuss plans pans of action. Having seemingly been caught up in the situation, he thought about throwing in a bone "Gentlemen if there is anything Baton Rouge can do for you, I have the Red Militia available. If need be, we can slow down our portion of the Mississippi and have extra eyes on the roads. Who knows where these men could be smuggling their resources. Short of calling the entire Militia over here, I'm ready to assist in any way I can."

[Dentali]

Stonewall Jackson

---

Coronation Banquet, Biltmore Palace


With the willing members of the Imperial Council gathered, Jackson took the presiding seat at the head of the great mahogany table. As is customary, he began proceedings with a few remarks of his own.

“Gentlemen, we are gathered here on the first evening of the resign of Emperor George Washington Vanderbilt, first of his name to rule. Now, many of you may point to this as a bad omen- that on the first night of his reign, our defenses would be broken. However, this is nothing but a pre-ordained sign from the Lord that the South must stand united! The survival of our people, our culture, and our way of life is at stake. And so, for that reason, I urge unity of this council, and I urge a quick and just response to the recent cowardly attacks by Appalachian partisans. I call upon the members of this council such as the revered Duke Longstreet to send reinforcements to North Carolina, as a show of Southern unity and strength in handling this crisis.”

"Consider myself at the service of the Emperor, I will send members of my entourage immediately to Georgia to send a Division to Weaverville. Do you wish me to stay here to assist?"

Longstreet looks over the map of the area.

I shall order Major General James Thadeus Holtzclaw to lead the 12,000 men of the 4th Division in the 2nd Corps through South Carolina and into North Carolina to Weaverville to rendezvous with your men. Meanwhile Henry DeLamar Clayton will be leading the 1st Division of the 1st Corps to Chattanooga. By the time they arrive we will have a better idea of their disposition. The 1st Division are tough country boys, they know how to fights in swamps, hills, woods, and mountains and will be invaluable to rooting out the enemy."

[Alaroma]

Nate Jones

The smirking Ranger walked up to the leader of the Colt Company and took his hat off out of respect. “Mighty fine ships you got here, I must say. Does the Confederacy proud.” He said, before stopping in front of the man. “Name is Nate Jones, I’m here on behalf of the Texan Government. We wanna commission you to join the Texan Navy, in service of this mighty fine Kingdom. You’ve brought us your wonderful arms manufacturing, arming Texans, and giving them jobs, and we want you to protect our waters the same way. Of course, your service would be compensated.”

Caldwell Colt arched an eyebrow at Nate Jone's request. Now, this is truly bizarre. "Well, Mr. Jones," Captain Colt politely coughed. "I fail to see why I am so desperately needed to be in the Texas Navy. The king's dockyards, although not as industrious as New Orleans', is still capable enough of producing his own navy without my criteria. I'm just a mere captain of the CSS Texas, not an admiral or lord, under oath to serve the Emperor. King Boykin shouldn't be afraid of my market not reaching to him; my revolvers are available for purchase throughout the Confederacy."

Nate Jones: Chief of the Rangers

---

Nate slowly shook his head at that. “I’m afraid not, this port ain’t what I’d call prime ship making port in the south. Any ships of real gumption in the Navy were produced elsewhere in the Confederacy, or in Europe. Now I’m sure you’re aware that producing those ships takes time and money, and with your ship here, we could save some time and perhaps even money.” He took some time to pause, looking at the ship once more, before looking back to the Industralist. “We all got bills to pay Mr. Colt, so why not let Texas pay yours? I’m confident your ship would make a fine addition to the fleet, and I’m even more confident the pay would be worth the endeavor for you and your men. Before you dismiss the offer, the least you could do is think over a contract. Throw some numbers around. A service of a year perhaps? Perhaps more? Nothing too inconvenient.”

[Cylarn]

Benedict "Ben" Church
Appalachian Partisan Rifles
Fort Joara, Burke County, North Carolina
Morning, January 1877
One Day following Church's Ride


Church's Ride. That was the immortalization of the recent action of the Appalachian Partisan Rifles, courtesy of Unionists statewide. Within a day of the attack, newsprint began to circulate, detailing the story of the three-pronged attack. Depending on what town or city you were in at the time, the details tended to change. The Salisbury Post made a claim that Partisans had taken over Price completely, and had five-thousand men at the ready, supported by twice as many Federal troops, ready to besiege Asheville. By contrast, the Charlotte Observer significantly downplayed the attack, claiming that Imperial recruits had repulsed the attack on Camp Price. Unionists across the state celebrated, while the aristocrats grew livid with the severing of the rail. Most papers, however, gave a grim forewarning: the Partisans were in Buncombe County, and they meant business.

The reality of the matter was much more practical. Casualties at Camp Price approached two-hundred dead, fifty recruits seriously injured and unfit for further service, and a hundred men injured but otherwise fit for service following recuperation. One-third of the barracks encampments had been razed by fire or trampling. Following the completion of their objectives, the Partisans had regrouped east of Asheville and fled Buncombe County prior to the mobilization of Imperial forces. They rode much through the nightand covered the Pisgah and the Eastern Blue Ridge, arriving back within their territory of the Gorge before the sun had a chance to rise. The "strategic assumption" was that Buncombe County and Western North Carolina would be locked down quickly by an Imperial mobilization; thus continued operations in the face of such saturation would only lead to unnecessary casualties. Instead, it was much more effective to inspire sympathizers in the region to spread disinformation about their whereabouts, or what they had done. The Unionist passions of Western North Carolina were becoming reignited.

In the short time he had left his area of control, his faction had grown significantly. A hundred-fifty recruits had been marched from Wilkesboro into the Gorge, while the forces present set about hunkering down and establishing preparations in the face of an eventual Imperial incursion. Fortifications of earth and wood and stone had been erected in the hills surrounding the gorge; caverns had been strong-pointed with crates and firing positions, with further excavation providing decent housing space for noncombatants. Even with what little artillery the Partisans possessed, they had managed to use their guns in such a way to provide coverage over the several presumptive entry points suitable for a large Imperial punitive expedition.

Fort Joara, located deep in the Pisgah to the northwest of Morganton, was likely the most ambitious of the Partisan fortifications. Once home to one of the largest and oldest indigenous settlements in North America, only a scattering of crumbling huts remain of Joara. The remnants of a Spanish fort, however, were a relic once-thought to be lost. Ben had learned of Joara from the Cherokee riding in his service, but had long-neglected to use the site. It was just before departing for Asheville, that he tasked one Captain Carl Kramer to oversee a surveying operation of the site.

Captain Kramer had done much more than intended. Ben found himself amid a wide open bay, surrounded by the beginnings of a reinforced wall of wood and earth and quarried stone surrounding the complex in a square. The wall was hardly five feet, but over a hundred Partisans and half as many civilians labored in the mud and snow, or hauled in freshly-cut lumber to serve as supports or as twenty-foot-high guide posts for the wall. Gates were being erected, as were the beginnings of rudimentary structures. Carriages brought in raw materials such as mortar and quarried stone. Ben ambled through as his men labored on the fortifications.

Atop a high parapet that had been finished, Ben saw Kramer perched above the construction, himself operating a surveying lever to ensure that the posts for the wall were evenly placed. Three freedmen worked around him, placing stones to complete the structure. The Vermonter, drawn to the Partisans by his own disappointment at missing out on the war at large due to age and education, was clad much less than his Southern counterparts. An unbuttoned Union officer's blouse served as his jacket, and he wore a black wool cap on his head. He did not appear to be affected by the cold much. Down below, a group of Partisans held up the posts as others filled in the dirt around the five-foot-deep holes in which the tall, heavy posts were placed. A combination of ropes, pulleys, manpower, and horsepower was key in raising them up and setting them properly. Across the way, another Partisan stood atop a ramshackle, temporary wooden platform at the other end of the poles, operating a similar level.

Ben climbed atop the parapet and stood a short distance from Kramer. He crossed his arms in response to the temperature dropping three degrees from a mere climb. The younger officer raised his left hand and waved slightly to the left; the poles tilted somewhat. Motioning back towards himself, the poles were around shifted in the favor of Kramer.

"Hold it there and fill it in!" Kramer shouted in a Yankee dialect seldom heard in this area of the Appalachian Mountains. He pulled himself away from the level and reached down to grab a coil of rope. He took a few paces to the edge of the parapet, handing the end of the rope to a civilian worker down below, who then strung the rope along the posts, all the way to the surveyor on the platform. The two men held the rope taunt, as workers below hammered it into the posts. A signal of thumbs-up signaled that the rope was secured, and Kramer released it.

"I see you've been busy, Captain," Ben said, giving a chuckle as he took a few steps forward. The two men delivered firm handshakes, and made eye contact.

"We surveyed, and figured it wasn't worth letting to waste with time. The Cherokee were a big help; they've given me permission to build redoubts around here once we get this done."

"And the whole Gorge is getting forted up, since we've been gone."

Kramer nodded in affirmation, his attention turning to the workers below. Ben approached closer to the edge, taking the opportunity to look out into the valley.

"The Watauga Council convened last night, sir," Kramer began, recounting some new information. "Dooley, Johnson, and Gallagher and I rode to Wilkesboro, over to the Hanging Tree Tavern. The raids hit the wire quicker than you'd believe, so there has been fuss."

Ben fired up a cigarette, and exhaled a cloud of smoke. Military and politics; both volatile substances that seemed to both mix and repel one another. While he knew of other independent bushwhackers who rejected the notion of supporting a government, Ben felt strongly that the Watauga Council, a group of prominent, educated men spread through the major towns, was an organization worthy to represent the collective interests of their area. They bickered and argued, sometimes about current issues and much about petty squabbles. Some downright opposed the Partisans serving as the military arm of the Council. Ben did his best to appease all sides, but with the recent escalation, there was now room for a debate on the subject of an official secession.

"Aye, and what was said?"

"Reverend Endicott is forcing another meeting tonight, this time with your attendance mandatory. He mentioned a development with the border government in Maryland. As for the raid, half of the Council is fired up for war, a quarter want you sacked, and then the rest are undecided."

Endicott was a good man, a congregation leader of the Society of Friends, and a long-time Abolitionist. While technically the Chaplain of the Council, his word held a lot of sway throughout the region, and his unhindered Eastward travels often brought the Partisans a boon in intelligence. He also had a nasty habit of appearing seemingly out of thin air, and it was a surprise to no one that Kramer and Ben almost jumped from their skins when Endicott, who had arrived unseen, joined them on the roof with a hearty "good morning, my fellows!"

"God damnit!" Ben shouted, almost falling off the edge. Endicott covered his mouth in shock.

"I am sorry to have startled you, my son," the Quaker said remorsefully.

"It's quite alright, sir," Kramer spoke. Ben lowered his guard, sticking his hands into his pockets as Endicott joined the conversation. The Quaker minister was glad in a long black cassock and black overcoat to keep out the cold, and his wide-brimmed black preachers' hat was lightly covered with fresh white snow.

"In any case, it is good to see you again, Ben. I trust your ride was a hale one? You seem to be back quicker than expected."

Ben nodded to the affirmative. "It's good to be back."

"I thought you were simply going to rob a bank in town and blow one railway. We did not expect you to sever Asheville by the rail on both sides."

The Quaker's voice suddenly turned grim. "I also did not expect from you the kind of barbarity carried out in Shufordsville, Ben."

Ben stared out towards the expanse of Pisgah, frowning. The minister was correct in that observation; the raid on Camp Price had been an unnecessary bloodbath. Kramer spoke up.

"Is it true that Brown led the attack?" Kramer asked his commander, who responded by suddenly turning around. He showed a slight bit of emotion in his eyes. Brown was a good fighter and leader, but devoid of much empathy. He loved very few people in the world, and felt little need to hunt for it.

"I have not yet talked to Brown," Ben admitted. "Walsh told me the course of the engagement."

"That was no 'engagement', Ben," Endicott interjected. "That was murder, Ben. I learned that most of those killed or maimed, or scorched by the great blaze he created, were not older than twenty-five. Brown slaughtered young men-"

"Fine young men, they would be if they hadn't picked the wrong side!" Brown shouted bluntly from down amid the construction, having overhead much of the exchange. "This is a fucking war, Reverend Endicott."

The Quaker minister stepped forward, glaring down at the former cavalryman. "You were brought up in the Faith, Dean Brown. War has robbed you of your humanity. I urge you to find some atonement for what you have done "

Brown responded by spitting a wad of chewing tobacco onto the mud. "Anyways, now that we've had that chat, I think Ben would like to know about the gund moving along the rail to Asheville."

Endicott raised an eyebrow. Somehow, he knew what the Partisan was bringing up. "Huh, you're talking about the train coming from Wilmington, eh?"

Brown nodded to the Reverend. "You know the one, and I won't ask how. From what I've gathered in Morganton, is that it's got three twelve-pounders on it, along with two twenty-pounder Parrots. They've also got Gatlings."

"Wouldn't hurt to get more artillery, especially here," said Kramer. "Most of what we have - the howitzers and the Gatlings - is out in the Gorge."

Kramer had a point; the Partisans would need more ordnance.

"Should be in after supper, and it's passing on through to Asheville," Brown said. "Give me twenty men and ten wagons, and we'll get the guns."

Ben frowned. Ten wagons was a lot of presence for the Partisans. Brown's column would be encumbered to such a degree that wild escapes off the beaten path were impossible.

"That's a serious risk, Brown," Ben stated. "I'm not sure I want to chance it."

"It's Morganton. Most folk there are either on our side, or locking themselves indoors out of fear of the crazies at the Braughton Nut House. Wouldn't be hard to way-lay the engine in town, storm it, and ride off with the guns."

Ben thought for a moment. "Fine. Take twenty of your men into Morganton."

"Send one of your men to Doctor Spake's, over by the Baptist Church," Endicott said. "He is one of us Red-Strings, and to be considered a friend. He may be able to assist you with the train."

Brown nodded, and quickly departed without a single word.

"I can't get rid of him, Reverend. I understand your reservations, but I can't spare him if I'm to take Jackson on."

"Aye, Ben."

"Reverend, what about the meeting tonight?" Kramer asked, as a way of reminding the older Reverend of what he had previously brought up. Endicott nodded.

"Ben, the Council is reconvening tonight on my request. I believe that you are owed the right to explain the action in Buncombe, in your own words."

"Reverend, the Council is aware that I have purview over military matters related to Appalachia. We do predate the Council, and we've shown more concrete evidence of Appalachian resistance to the people of this region. I may possess respect for your body, but I cannot guarantee that everyone in my stead respects the body as much as I do."

The minister shook his head, as if being challenged. He locked eyes with Ben, the mood growing suddenly tense.

"Ben, we are considered to be a successor of the Association. Do not forget that. You signed the Charter, as we all did. But some fear you're leading them into a war that we can't win."

"I can't say that we haven't been at war, Reverend. I've been at war for damn near twenty years now. The conflict's been ongoing, and with the death of the Emperor, the Coronation of a boy made completely flammable by the amount of booze he swigs, and the clipping of Asheville's wings, it's high time we escalate things."

Endicott sighed. "I won't pry more, lest I spoil the surprise. Say it all tonight. And on another note, a Friend-of-a-Friend in Salem has learned of Federal interest in your endeavors. Supposedly, agents will be seeking you out."

Federal involvement. The support would surely make their case valid; with Federal assistance, the old Watauga Association would be reborn as the State of Appalachia. "May you arrange for your Friends to assist us in making contact with said Federals?"

"I will try, Ben. Be well, my friend."

With that, Endicott departed, with his mission at hand. Ben also made his departure, taking a series of old hunting trails through the Pisgah on an easterly path towards the city of Wilkesboro. His ranks are swelling; pretty soon, the Partisans would be much more than a simple guerrilla army. A conventional campaign was on the rise. Statehood was on the horizon, for Appalachia.

---

A chance meeting between Nassim Bey and Reverend Thomas Endicott
At the Hanging Tree Tavern
Wilkesboro, North Carolina
Early Evening, January 1877


A flurry of snow and cold wind followed Thomas Endicott as he entered the tavern, face wrapped with a white scarf to rebuff the chilling temperatures. There were quite a number of patrons in the bar that night. A short, bald fat man worked the counter, wiping the inside of a glass and giving a respectful nod to the pastor. Endicott responded by removing his hat with a gesture of greeting to the bartender. His hair, long grayish-white and pulled into a ponytail, was allowed to roam free.

"I hope you are well, Bradford," Endicott said aloud as he wrestled free of his overcoat. An attendant, a young white boy, took his coat.

"It's good to see you, Reverend Endicott," Bradford replied. "The usual?"

"That would be most appreciated. I shall find a table."

Endicott departed the front, and began to make his way through the tavern. Many people drank by the bar, and others enjoyed warm meals and conversations at their tables. In the very back, a piano and fiddle accompanied one another in providing vital ambient Appalachian tunes. Most of the patrons greeted Endicott as he passed by, and he returned the greetings as they came. From Asheville to Wilmington, Thomas Endicott was a known figure.

As a devout Quaker, Thomas led the local Wilkesboro congregation, and served as a leader with the state Quaker community. A well-read theologian, he was respected by Union and Confederate alike, and he himself counted many friends in the officer corps of both nations. Consequently, Endicott was also one of the greatest spymasters of the state; he traveled greatly, had many friends from which to gather the local flavor, and remembered much. Six generations of Endicott men had fought for what they believed in, all without raising a weapon. Endicott supported Appalachian/Wataugan secession greatly; not by brandishment of arms, but by granting information to those that could greatly use it.

Many knew this, as did a blonde-haired serving woman who took Endicott by the arm as he passed by her. He stopped accordingly, and she pulled in close to his ear.

"There's a Yankee here. Just got in," she said in a hushed tone. "Left of the piano. Got his own table."

Endicott peered through the audience. Indeed, he spotted a martial-looking fellow sitting alone amid the carnage of social interaction. Endicott blinked, as if he did not register what he was seeing completely. Hassim Bey.

"Thank you, my child," Endicott replied. "Would you bring my coffee and porridge by that table? I shall join him."

The serving woman nodded, and released Endicott. He was somewhat surprised to see the man in Wilkesboro. He wasn't exactly incognito; Endicott had read of him in his travels. A soldier of fortune, Union war hero, and known Papist. Regardless, he proceeded onward. Colonel Tevis was in North Carolina for a reason. Endicott suspected that he intended to make his name with the Partisans.

Thus, he had to know more about his intentions, and Endicott saw no other recourse than to speak with the man directly. Without asking and without the permission of the soldier, Endicott took the seat across from Tevis and sat his hat in front of him. He gave a warm smile, and clasped his hands before him.

"I hope the mountains are treating you nicely," he said. "My name is Reverend Thomas Endicott."