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“Nothing,” Whit said.
“Me too.”
We both looked at the barrels and then silently looked through them, too.
We came up empty.
The magnitude of our situation hit me full in the face and my knees gave out. Whit let out a sharp sound and rushed toward me, dropping onto the ground and pulling me into his lap. I didn’t know I was crying until he wiped at the tears dripping down to my chin.
“Easy, Inez,” he whispered. “I have you.”
I leaned against him and he wrapped his arms around me. I breathed in his scent, mingled with sweat and blood, and it felt so real to me. He was full of strength and vitality andlifeand in a matter of hours, all that energy would be taken from him. I couldn’t stand it.
“I think we’re doomed,” I murmured against his chest. “Have you come to the same conclusion?”
His arms tightened around me.
Minutes passed, the only noise in the tomb coming from our quiet breaths mingling together in the dark.
“You asked me once why I was dishonorably discharged.”
I lifted my head. “And you’re finally going to tell me now that we’re going to die?”
“Sweetheart, do you want to hear this or not?”
I laid my head back down, the endearment working like a balm. Whit removed my hairpin and plucked my hat off my head. He cast it aside.
“I was stationed at Khartoum,” he began. “Under General Charles George Gordon. Do you know who that is?”
I shook my head. “Is that who the gun belongs to?”
Whit nodded. “The bastards stole it from me.” His fingers crept up and he smoothed my curls away from my face. “He had an impossible task,” he continued. “The Mahdis were fast approaching, intending to take control over the city, but Gordon held his ground. Britain ordered him to evacuate, but he wouldn’t, and instead he sent women, children, and the sick up into Egypt to escape from the attacks on Khartoum. All told, over two thousand five hundred people were removed from the city and into safety. Over time, the surrounding British-occupied cities surrendered to the Mahdis, and Khartoum was left isolated and vulnerable.”
I lifted my head and pulled away far enough so I could stare at Whit’s face as he recounted his tale.
“Gordon continued to hold the city, refusing to leave. He forced me to meet the rescue mission he knew was coming, and to help guide them back to the city. I went kicking and screaming, and eventually met up with the British officers attempting to navigate the Nile.” His mouth twisted into distaste. “The head of the relief force, Wolesley, decided to hireCanadiansinstead of Egyptians to pilot the river, and wastedmonthswaiting for them to arrive all the way fromNorth America.”
He clenched his fists against my thigh.
I gently prodded, not wanting him to lock up. “What happened then, Whit?”
“I told them I would go up ahead on my own,” Whit said softly. “But Wolesley refused. Forbade me from coming to General Gordon’s defense.So, I disobeyed the Crown, and snuck away from camp. Made the trek up the Nile on my own. Traveled through where the fighting had left bones. Humans, horses, camels. All sizes. What a waste of life.” His voice dropped to an anguished whisper. “I went as fast as I could, but in the end it didn’t matter. I arrived two days too late. The Mahdis beheaded General Gordon on the palace steps. A week later, I was dishonorably discharged for desertion.”
He lifted his head, his blue eyes shining with an unholy light. “I would have made the same decision. I only wish I would have done it earlier. Maybe I could have helped him, saved him.”
For a year, he’d been carrying the guilt of something that wasn’t his. It had burdened him when it wasn’t his to own. I understood why he hid behind a mask that tried to convince everyone that he didn’t care about the world or what happened to it. I wanted to take off the weight as if it were a tangible thing, just so he could be free to let himselffeelagain. “He would have stayed behind, regardless of if you were there, Whit.”
“I wasn’t there when he needed me.”
“You went to get help,” I said. “He knew you would have done anything to help him. Youdideverything you could—to your own detriment.” I caressed the hollow of his throat. I knew what it cost him, to reveal something that he felt tremendous shame about. Something he would have carried alone. “I think you’re more decent than you think. Practically a hero.”
“The military judge didn’t think so.”
“I don’t care what he thinks.” I softened my voice. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have, if it weren’t near certain that we’re doomed.”
I shook my head. That was part of the reason. Maybe I would have believed him before, but he’d told me a story to slow the ebb of panic that threatened to swallow me whole. “You said it to comfort me.”
