Benton's Books

Here is the beginning of Red Runs the Plains....(c) Copyright 2005 by W.R. Benton and Aydya Press...enjoy and give me some feedback about what you think.

 

PROLOGUE

Major Miles Wilson stood unmoving in front of the open door to his military quarters deep in thought.   His living conditions were rudimentary when compared to many other places he could have been assigned, but the place was growing rapidly. At the moment, however, the major was not worried in the least about his personal comfort, because there was a tightness growing deep in his gut as he realized he would retire from the British army the next morning.  Major Wilson felt his fear expanding and if he had not been alone someone would have noticed his trembling hands.  He knew there was little he could do about his situation.  His thirty years were up the next morning and by Royal army regulations and customs he was being forced out of the only career and life he had ever known.   Damn me, I’m soon a dead man, he thought as he stared with blank eyes at the busy dirt street in front of his residence.

 The major was a slim man, with dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed moustache of the same color.  His eyes were dark and piercing, like those of an eagle looking for prey, and they constantly took in everything happening around him.  He’d often been joked at and ridiculed as a youngster because of the sternness of his appearance and his total lack of a sense of humor.  Major Wilson was well known in the British army as a no nonsense kind of man and truthfully he relished the reputation. 

            For all outward appearances, Major Miles Wilson seemed to be the perfect example of an English officer and he was by birth a gentleman.  His father had been the lucky one of the family, since he’d won recognition, glory, wealth, early in life and had married a beautiful woman, while still a very young man.  Eventually his father had attained the rank of major general and though he was retired from active service to the king, he was still a very powerful man in merry old England. 

Miles had attended nothing but the best schools and while a he appeared to be a sharp and bright student, he took his studies so seriously that he actually learned very little.  What the major had really learned during his years at the university had been nothing more than simple rote memory and he had not received much in the way of a usable education.  He could repeat the most complicated lessons verbatim, but in most cases, he could not apply even the simplest principles of what he had been taught.  While not a very learned student, his grades were well above normal due to his excellent memory.  However, that all changed the day he entered the army, almost thirty years before.

Upon completion of his studies, young Miles was handed his future on a silver platter, when his father bought his commission as a Captain in the infantry.  Miles, as well as his father, had great hopes for his future.  Assigned to his father’s regiment, he quickly discovered, as did his superiors, that he had an outstanding mind for tactics and administration.  By quickly glancing over a battlefield, Miles could tell his commander not only where the next enemy attack would be directed, but almost to the minute when the attack would occur.  At first, the other staff officers had laughed at him, but eventually the officers appointed over him had come to realize having the young Captain Miles along almost assured them of a quick victory over any foe and under almost all conditions.  During his many years of service, not once had he been defeated on the battlefield.  His retirement rank was low, but not due to his military mind, but for personal reasons.  Those were the reasons that scared him at that moment, as he watched the wagons loaded high with goods leaving the post for unknown destinations.  It was a rare day, at Fort Langley, Canada, because the usual winter rain was missing, but the soon to retire major didn’t even notice the lack of rain in the air.

            It had all started after he had received a number of awards for bravery during the war of 1812.  He’d been sent home to a hero’s welcome and was the guest of honor at many formal dinners and military functions.   The major, always a very vain man, had relished the attention, especially from the women.  And, as a result of this attention from the ladies he had had more than one late night or afternoon affair.  The damned women are the cause of my woes, he thought as he continued to stand at his open door.

            As a reward for his brave actions in battle, the young captain was quickly promoted to major and rewarded with a special posting, as a military attaché to the embassy in Paris.   It was there, while in the performance of his official duties that his problems had first really started. 

            “Major Wilson, I will be unable to attend a dinner tonight, and well, I was wondering if you’d be so kind as to escort my wife, Carol.”  Lieutenant Colonel Applegate, the senior military member at the embassy had asked him one late afternoon as they were finishing some paperwork.

            “Of course, sir, I’d be honored to escort your wife to the dinner in your place.”  Miles replied, fully expecting a boring evening with some middle-aged plump woman.  The things I do for the Crown, he thought.

            “Alright then, Miles, I’ll have my carriage pick you up at, oh, let’s say seven this evening.”

            “Yes, sir, I’ll be ready.”

            At seven promptly, a shiny black carriage pulled up in front of the large hotel where the officers were quartered.  Major Wilson, opened the door, stepped up and entered the dark confines of the carriage.  He was taken back almost immediately by the beauty of the lieutenant colonel’s wife in the dim interior.  Carol Applegate was much younger than her husband and Miles was attracted to not only her beautiful red hair, but her ravishing body as well.   He had always been a bust man and the woman was showing just enough cleavage of her large bosoms to bring out a strong lusty want deep within him.  Here, thought Miles, is a woman who knows she is very desirable. Wilson knew he must have been staring at the woman when he heard her say, “Is there something wrong, Major Wilson?”

            “No, not at all, my maam, I was just taken by your beauty is all.  You are a very attractive woman, Mrs Applegate, and I’ve seen very few of those during my career.”  He had replied with his warmest smile.  

            “Thank you for the kind words major.  I can see you are a man who appreciates a simple woman’s attempts to look attractive.”  She replied as he met her eyes and then gave him a seductive smile that suggested there might be more to come.

She is either a very experienced tease or a very lonely woman, Miles thought as he looked over at Carol Applegate and said with a tender smile, “I appreciated only the finer things in life, Maam.”

            The evening had passed too quickly as far as the young major was concerned, but over the next few weeks the young Major Wilson had seen more and more of Carol Applegate, as her husbands hectic schedule had kept him too busy to attend the minor functions.  Then, one evening after attending a theatre with Carol, he had spent the whole night with her.  Lieutenant Colonel Applegate had been recalled to England earlier in the day and was not due back for many weeks.  That night the two were not discovered, nor were they brought out the many nights they shared together during his two-year assignment in Paris, or so he thought.

            It was when he began escorting Carol Applegate that Miles Wilson started living well above his meager means.  He gambled a great deal and lost most of the money he had been saving, thus he had to borrow more to continue his extravagant lifestyle.   At first, it had only been a few pounds, which he paid back quickly, but then it grew to be more and more, until he owed several thousand pounds.   As a result of his deep worry over his heavy gambling debts, he turned to the bottle more and more each day and in less than three months young Miles D. Wilson was known throughout the regiment as a drunk.   His heavy drinking had resulted in more than one heated correspondence with his father, until the older Wilson had had enough.

In January of 1815, he was abruptly reassigned to North America with the warning his career would go no further.  The brigadier had actually stated that he was the first drunken man he had ever reassigned that was more deserving of a military courts martial than a new duty station.  Well, thought Miles, the old bastard was blood on the dot with his warning, because I’ve not had another assignment or promotion since.  I suspect father was behind the assignment too, because God knows he warned me often enough.

            As he stood in front of the door deep in thought, he suddenly noticed a huge sea captain walking toward him and Miles immediately recognized the man.  The old sea dog was a man named James Ruff and he’d been at sea longer than the major had been alive.  James was a fat man, well over two hundred and fifty pounds, and just a tad over five feet tall.  What little hair the fat man had left was white and he wore it long, as if to make up for what was missing from the very top of his head.  Ruff was a strange man and Miles often wondered if it might have been the result of make up of the man’s family.   The captain’s father had been English, while his mother was a Yankee from Boston.

            “Good day Miles.  I trust you’re well prepared to retire come the morning?”  Ruff asked as he neared the major and removed his hat.

            “Actually James, I face a bit of an uncertain future, as you well know.”  Wilson spoke as he turned toward the inside of his quarters and then quickly added, “Come inside James; let us have a drink and talk.”

            The two men entered the building and as the major took a seat behind his desk, he motioned an empty chair off to the right side for the sea captain.  Wilson then opened the bottom right drawer to his desk, removed a bottle of Scotch whiskey, removed the cork, and placed it on his desk.  He quickly reached into the same drawer and took out two crystal glasses, in which he pour three fingers of the amber colored alcohol.

            As Wilson handed a glass to the Captain, he asked as his eyes narrowed, “So, James, I think you may have a letter for me from England?”

            The fat man chuckled, took a sip of his whiskey, and then replied, “Aye, lad, I have your letter.  It is a nice fat one as well.” 

            “Is there word of any importance from home?”  As Wilson asked the question, he knew James Ruff was a man with all kinds of connections in England and if things were bad, well, the big man would know.  The major realized he might have to stay in Canada for a bit longer and the idea sickened him.

            The big man reached into his coat, removed a thick letter and handed it to Major Wilson.  Ruff didn’t answer the major immediately, instead he sipped his drink once more before he replied slowly and with narrowed eyes, “Aye, there is word.  Lad, I think it would be best if you did not return home for a while.  Let’s say there are some very important people who would like to see you at once upon your return.”

            The major was about to open his letter, but instead he hesitated a moment, then opened the top drawer to his desk and dropped the correspondence inside.  This damned letter can wait, he thought as he leaned forward on his elbows and met Ruff’s eyes as he asked, “What kind of important people and why would they want to see me?  I am but a simple member of the Kings army going home into my retirement.”

            Ruff laughed loudly, gulped down the remainder of his Scotch and placed the empty glass on the edge of the major’s desk.  His eyes sparkled as he replied, “Miles, my lad, you’re full of shit.  You know, as well as I do, who wants to see your arse when you return and why.  You owe too many pounds to people with connections in London town and the day you arrive home may be the day you die.  Or, at best, which I doubt seriously will happen, you’ll end up on board a debtors prison boat, and you don’t want that either lad.”

            Major Wilson felt his stomach fill with anxiety and he almost panicked at the thought of the powerful influence of those he owed money.  They were very influential men, with ways of seeing him dead where there would be few questions asked.  I can’t stay here, but to return home is the same as suicide and thus it cannot happen, he thought as he poured more whiskey into the glasses.

            “Easy Miles, my lad, you’re spilling the drink and good Scotch is hard to come by in this damned place.” 

            “Sorry, James, I was thinking of my future.”

            “Well, if you return home with me onboard my ship the best I can do is get you to shore safely.  After that, lad, you’ll be own your own.” The big man spoke and a second later he continued, “Miles stay here for a while.  You’re a very intelligent young man and I think you might be able to figure out a way to come up with the money.  How much do you owe, if I might ask.”

            The major gave a loud sigh, raised his drink, and looking over the smooth rim of his glass he said, “Captain James Ruff, I have decided not to retire back in England, but rather to stay in this Goddamned remote wilderness and find my fortune.  And, how much I owe others is none of your bloody business my good man.”

            “Fortune?  Aye, it can be made here, but only by trading with the Indians for their furs.  I know of no other riches found here at this point that can reward a man very quickly.”

            Miles slowly lowered his glass to his desktop, leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.  There must be a way, he thought as he started to rock his body gently in the chair.

            Many long and silent minutes pasted with Captain Ruff unconcerned, because he knew Wilson well.  While he liked the younger army officer, he knew the major was a dead man if he returned home.  The big man had known Major Miles Wilson since his youth and his intelligence had always amazed him, though all of his current problems were ones he could have easily prevented.  Why is it that the smartest people make the dumbest mistakes? He thought as he reached over, picked up the bottle of whiskey, and poured a good three inches into his glass.

            “James, I wish to be alone.  I was serious a minute ago, when  I said I would not be returning to England with you.  As you well know, my father is angry over my debt, refuses to help me, and . . .”

            “Miles, I spoke with your father just before leaving port and he said that if you don’t get your life in order, well, he would have little to do with you in the future.  I think he sees all of this as an embarrassment to the family name.”

            “Family name!”  Miles exploded loudly and suddenly broke loose from his chair, where he stood shaking in anger in front of it.

            “Lad, keep the ship on a straight course now and don’t you drift on me!  You know as well as I do, your affairs with married women, your heavy drinking, and your gambling debts have caused all of the problems you have.”

            “James, I’ve done nothing I am ashamed of and I’ve brought no dishonor to either my family name or to the Crown.  Yes, I like women, I gamble, and I do drink too much at times, but hell, those aren’t the real problems.  All men do those kinds of things.”

            Ruff’s eyebrows went up quickly and he fired back, “Oh, they aren’t the real problems lad, then what is the real problem?”

            “Jealousy is the real problem and you bloody damned well know it too!  I am an intelligent man, James, and others fear my rise to power once I retire back to England.  Those men in London have no desire of the few pence I owe them!  They know with my mind and the money that I will inherit the day my father dies, I’ll quickly over shadow all of them.  And, once I am big enough, why . . . why, I will squash those arrogant bastards like little bugs they are.”

            Ruff stood, placed his cap on his head, and said, “Easy here, that’s not only dangerous talk lad, it is down right stupid thinking.  The men we are speaking of are not little arrogant bugs, they are some of the most influential men in the country, and right now they are all bloody pissed at you.  Hell, most of them have the king’s ear!”

            Still livid, Wilson plopped roughly back into his chair, placed his trembling hands to his face, tightly closed his eyes, and yelled, “Get out Ruff!  Get the hell out now!”

            James Ruff, the only loyal friend Major Miles D. Wilson had left in the world, walked slowly to the door, and opened it.  But, just before he stepped outside he turned and said, “Miles, my lad, you take care of yourself.  It is not beyond those men in England to reach out for you once they know you are not coming home.”

            The major quickly picked up the half-empty bottle of Scotch and threw it at the door as he screamed, “Get the bloody hell away from me!”

            Captain Ruff turned and quickly left the cramped quarters of Major Miles D. Wilson.  He left the broken shell of a man sobbing at his desk with whiskey running down the wall near his door and shreds of broken glass scattered on the rough plank wood of his floor.