By anybody’s standards the major was a right hard man. The second in command of the prison was a tall and still well built man, despite the lack of food and other necessitates the Confederate Army claimed to be short of. He liked what he did and he was good at it.

The six in the cell had been the only ones not to bend to his will. The other miserable sods in this dump had all broken before him. He had left his mark on each of them.

Seeing that his target for today had not yet begun to move the major nodded to the two guards who were with him. Laughing they easily brushed aside the blonde teenager with a back still bloody from the day before and lifted their target to his feet.

“Don’t” The upper class English accent ordered, “It’s not worth it.” This was said to the blonde teenager who was coming back for a second go at the guards.

Although his back was on fire and he could barely stand straight the blonde teenager was ready to have another go at the guards who were taking his friend to what was most likely to be his death.

“Remember what we said lad.” The Englishman continued as he was dragged out of the door. “Remember what you promised.”

The blonde teenager threw himself against the locked door. With every last ounce of strength in his weak and abused body he tried to pull the door of its hinges.

As the screams began the teenager lost consciousness.

Jarrod Barkley was sitting at his desk going over some paperwork when a tap on the door broke into his concentration.

“Three gentlemen to see you Mr Barkley.” Karen Cotts, Jarrod’s San Fransisco law office secretary announced.

Karen stood to one side and allowed the three to enter. Two of them Jarrod recognized at once. Richard Mantle the grey haired Governor of the State of California and Lord Edward Worthington the British Ambassador. The third member of the party was a well-dressed man in his early to mid forties.

“Jarrod” The Governor extended his hand. “Good to see you again.”

“Governor.” Jarrod took the offered hand “The pleasure is all mine.”

“You know the British Ambassador Lord Edward Worthington?”

“Yes.” Jarrod turned to the Ambassador. “Good to see you again Edward, what brings you to California? Another hunt?”

“Jarrod.” Lord Edward shook Jarrod’s hand “Not this time my friend, purely business.” He turned to the third member of the party. “Jarrod I’d like you to meet Henry Redforth, Henry this is Jarrod Barkley, attorney at law and a very capable investigator.”

“Mr Barkley.” Redforth extended his hand.

With the introductions out of the way and everybody settled in a comfortable chair with a drink Mantle came to the point of the visit.

“We need your help Jarrod.” He began. “Mr Redforth is here on behalf of his uncle.”

“I’m here looking for my cousin. My uncle is dying, and well, my cousin is the heir to the family title and estate.” Henry Redforth continued. “Charles, my cousin, and his father had a disagreement many years ago now which resulted in my cousin packing his things and basically coming to your country in an effort to, well, start a new life.”

“Why do you need my help?” Jarrod was puzzled. Finding lost cousins was not really his field. “What can I do that could possibly help you?”

“We, the family, know that Charles settled in or around the town of Colesville where he had a small piece of land, a farm if you like.” Redforth fiddled with a small package he had pulled out of his case and placed in his lap. “ The last message we got from Charles said that he was taking up arms and joining the Union Army in your Civil War. My cousin was always a passionate man. If he believed in somebody or something strongly enough he would take up the cause and throw himself into to it wholeheartedly. In that last letter he spoke of believing in what the Union Army stood for and how he would do whatever he could to see the overall goal achieved. Up until the start of the war our family was heavily into cotton mills, and gentlemen I don’t have to tell you where English cotton mills got most of their supplies from and how those supplies were harvested. ”

“We need you to help us find out what happened to Charles Redforth.” Worthington took over. “If he survived the war you can help us find him. If he didn’t then you can help us find proof of his death and where he’s buried.”

“And if he is dead you could also help us find the dagger that belongs to this.” Redforth unwrapped the parcel and handed Jarrod the most exquisitely engrave gold scabbard he’d ever seen.

“Impressive.” Jarrod remarked as he held the scabbard and examined it. The craftsmanship was beyond anything he’s seen before. It must’ve been at least two to three hundred years old.

“The dagger is even more impressive.” Redforth told him. “ When Charles left to come here our grandfather, who was still alive at the time, gave it to him and at the same time gave me the scabbard. The understanding being that when the scabbard and I turned up here it was time for Charles to come home and claim his inheritance.”

“And now?” Jarrod prompted.

“Our grandfather died five years ago, my uncle, Charles’s father, never a well man at the best of times is dying or by now may even be dead.” Redforth paused and took a breath. “Mr Barkley I know my cousin is alive somewhere, please won’t you help?”

“Mr Redforth, I’ll do what I can.” Jarrod assured him.

Lord Worthington and Redforth rose to leave.

“Gentlemen there are one or two other matters that I need to discuss with Mr Barkley.” Mantle told the two Englishmen “I’ll catch up with you shortly.”

“Jarrod there are one or two things I can tell you about Charles Redforth. From what little we have been able to dig up it seems…”

Jarrod’s eyes widened with shock and alarm as Mantle spelled out just what he knew about the missing English heir.

“Hey sleepy head. You gonna lay there all day or what?” Nick Barkley boomed the question at his younger brother who was sleeping in on of the two beds in the little hotel room the Barkley brothers had rented for their short stay in the town of San Pedros, two days journey from Stockton.

“Go away Nick and let me sleep.” Heath Barkley, the younger of the two brothers demanded. Three weeks of sleeping rough had taken its toll, and although the hotel bed was not the softest one in all creation, it was softer then the hard ground. All he wanted to do was catch up on some lost sleep.

“Come on.” Nick swatted his brother with the three-day-old newspaper he had liberated from one of the tables in the saloon below. “The saloon’s open and empty, time for us to get a few in before the crowd arrives.”

“Nick quit it will ya?” Heath made a grab for the offending paper and managed to wrench it from Nick’s grasp.

He was about to toss it to the other side of the room when a name in the lead story caught his attention. Sitting up quickly he studied the article in more depth. The expression on his face changed from one who was in a playful, if sleepy, mood to the more sombre serious look of a worried, concerned man.

“Heath?” Nick’s mood changed as well. Whenever Heath got that worried look on his face Nick got concerned.

In response to his brothers question Heath thrust the newspaper at Nick.

‘ SECOND UNSOLVED MURDER’ the headline read.

“The body of Cal Jenks was found in an alley way in the town of Gault” Nick read out loud. “This follows the discovery of the body of Russ Jones in an alley way in the town of Smoulders Gap two weeks ago. Although both men were shot after being tortured no other connection has been found between the two men. Sheriff’s from both towns are still looking into the crimes.”

“There is another link between the two.” Heath looked up at Nick.

“What?”

“They knew each other. Nick both of them were in Carterson prison with me.”

“Where is it?” The cultured accent demanded. “You were part of the circle of six, Charlie Red told all of you about it. Now where is it?”

The hiss of leather swinging through the air was heard then the scream from the man who lay in the alley before the three strangers.

“Answer the Majors question.” A second voice not nearly as cultured ordered.

“Come on Kurts you must know where it is.” The tall man with the cultured accent continued.

Hank Kurts looked up at the mention of his name. Straight into the face of a man he hadn’t seen since the day Carterson prison had been liberated at the end of the war.

“You!” Kurts breathed.

“So you do remember me Kurts,” The accent purred, “I haven’t forgot you either, nor the rest of you group. Now tell me about it.”

“Never, we were sworn to secrecy.”

“Well then we’ll just have to ask a little harder won’t we?" The tall man grinned. The leather whip slapping against the palm of his hand.

“And you’re sure about this Governor?” Jarrod asked still not believing what Mantle had just told him.

“Yes. Charles Redforth was in Carterson prison at the end of the war. We’ve been able to confirm that he was still alive the day before the prison was liberated. On the last day he was taken out of the cell he shared with five others and wasn’t seen again. Now it seems somebody is murdering the other five men in that cell one by one. The papers haven’t gotten onto that fact yet, and I for one am not going to tell them.” Mantle gathered the papers he had spread over Jarrod’s desk and stuffed them into a briefcase.

“The others from the cell?” Jarrod asked.

The mention of the name Carterson brought back to mind the scene just before Christmas when his family learned that their youngest brother had spent time in that horrid place. Records showed that over seven hundred men were imprisoned in that place and only a handful had emerged after the war. Even with so few coming out alive there was still a chance that Heath wasn’t in the particular cell group.

“Cal Jenks and Russ Jones” Mantle began to list them “The two that were murdered. Charles Redforth, of course, Hank Kurts, the man who’s supplied us with much of the information you’ve seen, John Wild and a teenager, the only one of the group we can’t seem to locate, Heath Thomson.”

Jarrod’s heart sank as Mantle spoke Heath’s name. He was so hoping that Heath’s name wouldn’t be mentioned. Just this once maybe the ghost of Carterson would leave his little brother alone.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Mantle asked, noting the change in Jarrod’s demeanour.

“Heath Thomson is now Heath Barkley.” Jarrod told Mantle “He’s my brother.”

In a dusty no account town a hand reached out and caught the stray newspaper page.

“There were six of us in this tiny cell.” Heath began.

The brothers by now were on the road back to Stockton.

Heath, after having read the article for a third time and forgetting about his need to sleep, had started to throw the few things he had packed for this trip into his bedroll and headed for the livery where both Charger and Stealth were stabled.

This had left Nick little choice but to follow suit. The mention of Carterson prison, the fact that his brother was there and that he knew the murdered men had caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

Then there were the scars on his brother’s back. When Heath had gabbed the paper from him earlier in the day Nick had seen the scars that covered this little brothers back for the first time. It had only been a momentary glance; Heath had been lying with his back to his brother covered by the excuse of a sheet that was on the bed. The sheet had fallen exposing Heaths shoulders and upper back along with the marks on them. So many of them, there wasn’t one section of skin that didn’t have a scar. It sickened him to think of his brother being abused that way.

“Cal, Russ, Hank, Johnny, Charlie and me.” Heath stared into the distance remembering the faces of the men who became his friends in that dark and terrible time. “I was the youngest, Cal and Hank were from somewhere in New York, never knew where Russ came from, just said he was a drifter, Johnny came from Baltimore and Charlie Red said he a had a farm outside Colesville, we knew he was English, that came out every time he opened his mouth. Upper class as well.”

“What like an aristocrat or something?”

“Yeah but he said he’d left all that behind him, some sort of falling out with his father. Didn’t bring much of that life with him, only a dagger given to him by his grandfather. Only the five of us knew about that. To the others he was just a guy from across the sea living in California.”

“Well you, Cal and Russ made it out what about the others?”

“Hank and Johnny too. Johnny’s the only I’ve seen I didn’t even know the rest where in California. Charlie, don’t know. They came and took him the day before the camp was liberated. I tried to stop them. I heard him scream once then I lost consciousness, didn’t wake up until I was in the camp hospital and the Union Army was in control.”

Their journey continued on in silence as both brothers pondered over possible motives for the murders of the ex prisoners.

“Heath?’ Nick pulled Stealth to a halt forcing Heath to do the same to Charger “Is it possible that this all turns on something that the group of you knew and you all thought somebody else didn’t?”

Heath looked straight into his eyes, and in that look Nick saw his answer.

“Nick not here I’ll explain more when we get home.” Was all Heath had to say.

“Just one more thing. And I want a straight answer, no sidestepping, and no changing the subject. Are you in any danger?” Nick’s voice was heavy with fear and worry. If the answer was yes then he needed to know in order to protect this younger brother who had come to mean so much to him and whom he had no intention of losing.

“Maybe.”

“Your brother?” Mantle was astounded. Like most of the state he’d heard about the two new arrivals to the Barkley family and the circumstances that had brought them, but had never made the connection between the teenage Heath Thomson and the adult Heath Barkley. “Jarrod where is he now?”

“With my other brother Nick, by now they should be on their way back from a cattle drive. They’ve been gone about three weeks.”

“So much for nobody else knowing. Jarrod you do know that if whoever is doing this is hunting down ex inmates of Carterson then.”

“Heath’s in real danger.” This thought had crossed Jarrod mind long before Mantle had said anything. Not one to be impolite Jarrod wished Mantle would just hurry and finish this meeting. He felt a need to get home quickly and make sure his younger brother was safe.

“Look Jarrod if you don’t want to undertake the hunt for Charles Redforth, in view of what has happened here, I’ll understand and will explain to Edward and Mr Redforth.” Mantle offered.

“No Governor it’s fine.” Jarrod told Mantle “I’ve got the oddest feeling that the two are connected, and if I can find what happened to Mr Redforth’s cousin it may end up leading me to whomever is behind these killings.”

“Thomson and Wild?” The Major growled to the broken, bleeding Hank Kurts “This whole thing revolves around those two?”

“Yes.” Kurts gasped, through pain clenched teeth. “Wild knows where Charlies place is and Heath’s the only one Charlie told where it’s hidden.”

The major smiled. Another one of the unbending six had broken before him. First Jenks, then Jones and now Kurts.

Red was close to breaking when the camp was taken over. For his own reasons and wanting to continue the questioning in private the major had ordered that Red be taken out of the prison and hidden nearby. By the time he’d gotten to the hiding spot Red’s body had been found and most likely given a decent burial.

It had been a good day, that day back in Carterson when one of the corporals had come to him with some information regarding one of the miserable creatures in his ‘care’ and a valuable object that belong to him.

The object was worth a fortune; plenty of money to re build his life and his home. During the intervening years he’d had to keep a low profile. His superior officer Matt Bentell had been brought up on charges as a result of the treatment meted out at Carterson. Bentell had been cleared due to lack of evidence, but for his own safety the major continued to live under an assumed name for quite some time.

“Have either of you been able to find out anything regarding Thomson or Wild?” He asked his companions, both ex-guards at the prison and in on the deal.

“Wild yes, Thomson no” Was the reply. “Wild is working in a lumber camp not far from Stockton. Nobody’s seen or heard anything of Thomson. Maybe he’s dead.”

“That little runt? The hardest of the six? Never.” The major swore. “He’s alive somewhere and I’ll find him.”

“How?” His comrade the ex-sergeant asked

“I’ve got a link in the Governors office, he must know where Thomson is. After all he found Jenks and that mouth Kurts for us.” The major smiled wickedly. It was good to have a contact in high places.

“Jarrod!” Victoria Barkley exclaimed as the figure of her first born son came in through the front door of the Barkley family home. “ You’re early I wasn’t expecting to see you for another two days.” She reached up and kissed his check.

“Mother. I know but something important came up and I needed to get back here in a hurry.”

“Jarrod?” Victoria heard the fear in her son’s normally calm, neutral voice

“Mother are Nick and Heath back yet?”

“No I had a telegram from Nick yesterday he said he and Heath were fine and in San Pedros and they’d be staying there for a day or two. Why?”

“Mother I can’t say too much until I talk to them. There’s another thing, shortly a man will be arriving here could one of the guest rooms please be made ready for him?”

“Is this man involved with whatever it is you can’t tell me?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll see to it that the main guest room is ready for him.”

“Mother, you’re a treasure.” Jarrod bent and kissed her also on the check. “What would we do without you?"

Victoria just shook her head.

Nick and Heath pushed well into the night. It was close to one in the morning when Nick pulled Stealth to halt. Both were tired having been in the saddle for fourteen hours straight.

“Heath stop.” Nick called to his brother who had overtaken him and looked like he would continue on. “We need a break and so do the horses.”

In his heart Heath knew that Nick was right. He had felt Charger getting slower and slower.

“There’s a waterhole about two minutes away. We can stop there, the horses can get water and we can get some sleep.” Nick pushed.

“Ok Nick.” Heath gave in “Lead the way.”

Nick smiled the mention of the horses had done the trick. Heath looked like hell. Ever since he’d read that report he had worn a haunted look on his face. Nick desperately wanted to know what was tearing at his brother but he’d given his word not to ask any further questions until they’d reached home.

With Charger and Stealth watered and fed and a quick meal of beans inside themselves the brothers bedded down for a few hours sleep.

“NO” The scream pierced the night air causing Nick to wake with a jolt. “GO TO HELL SAMUELSON, I’LL NEVER TELL YOU WHERE IT IS.”

Nick looked toward Heath how was sleeping on the other side of what once was a mid sized campfire. His brother was tossing and turning in his sleep, arching his back as if to escape somehow blows that were being rained down upon it.

“Tell me boy,” The cultured voice of Major Jed Samuelson purred in his ear “Tell me where the dagger is.”

“Never.”

Whoosh the leather whip stung his back again.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“I can do this all day boy.” Samuelson taunted “How long can you hold on for? And don’t think that the Colonel will put a stop this any time soon. As far as he’s concerned you’re been punished for a breach of discipline.”

Heath remained silent He drew in a breath and prepared himself for the next strike.

“Heath, Heath wake –up.” The voice sounded familiar and yet at the same time it didn’t belong to anybody in this hellhole “Come Heath, you’re scaring me.”

“Charlie? That you?” Heath opened his eyes and saw the outline of a face above him.

“No Heath its Nick.” Nick tried to keep his voice in check. He wanted to scream, shout, lash out at those who had, and in his brother’s nightmare were, tormenting him.

“Nick?” Heath was a bit more awake bit still a little confused.

“Yes brother it’s me. You’re safe, everything’s ok, I’m here and I’m with you.” Nick looked down to the face, covered with sweat that he held in his arms. Gently he wiped away the sweat and held a canteen to Heaths mouth “Here, drink.”

Heath gulped a few mouthfuls and nodded to Nick that he’d had enough.

“Alright now?”

“Thanks Nick.”

“Heath I know you said that you’d explain when we got home, but is there anything you can tell me now?” Nick pressed gently. “Like what that was all about? And just who is Samuelson and what the hell he did to you?”

“Samuelson was the major at Carterson, Bentell’s number two and his pet torturer.” Heath explained. “Bentell ordered the punishments and Samuelson carried them out, as well as some of his own on the side.”

In that second Nick understood. Heath had just relieved a moment from his time in Carterson.

“Heath you said something about it. What is it?”

Heath just looked at him and remained silent.

“Ok just thought I’d try.”

“Nick, I want to tell you believe me I do but, along time ago I made a promise and until the time is right there’s nothing more I can say.” Heath looked at Nick, his blue eyes pleading for understanding.

“Come on try and get your head down at least for another hour to two.” Nick encouraged. “It’ll be light soon and then we’ll move again.”

Heath drifted into a dream free sleep as Nick sat and watched.

“Mr Jarrod, your guest is here.” Silas the Barkley’s manservant announced.

“Thank- you Silas.” Jarrod responded and turned to where Victoria was sitting in the private garden enjoying the morning sun. “Shall we go and greet our guest?” He offered Victoria his arm.

To his surprise Jarrod found not only Henry Redforth in the main entrance hall but Richard Mantle as well.

“Governor this is a surprise welcome to the Barkley ranch. Mr Redforth welcome. My I present my mother, Victoria Barkley.” Jarrod ushered Victoria forward. “Mother this is Mr Henry Redforth and of course you know Governor Mantle.”

“Richard.” Victoria greeted Mantle. They had known each other for many years and were old friends.

“Victoria, a pleasure as always.” Mantle kissed the check of one of his oldest friends.

“Mr Redforth welcome to our home.” Victoria extended her hand.

“Thank you Mrs Barkley.” Redforth said “I hope I’m not putting you to any trouble.”

“No not at all.” Victoria was taken back for a second by the upper class English accent, but recovered quickly. “Silas will you please take the Governor and Mr Redforth’s bags to the guest rooms. Gentlemen you will be staying with us for a while won’t you?”

“Sorry Victoria, I’m only here for a few hours, then I have to get back to San Fransisco. I really only came to see Jarrod about one or two things.” Mantle made his apologies.

“Well I’m sorry Nick and Heath aren’t here to greet you.” Victoria smiled “But this is a working ranch and they’re on a drive.”

“What about Audra and your other daughter?” Mantle fumbled for the correct name “Heather?”

“They’re staying with friends of ours in Nevada at the moment.” The smile died from Victoria’s eyes as Mantle fumbled over Heathers name.

“Excuse me Mrs Barkley, but Mr Nick and Mr Heath just rode into the yard.”

Victoria and Jarrod exchanged looks. Something was wrong. Usually when Nick said to expect him on a given day he meant on that day, not the day before or the day after.

“Mother, Jarrod” Nick called from the deserted kitchen “Where is everybody?”

“Nick keep your voice down, we have guests.” Victoria swept into the kitchen. “Welcome home son.”

“Thank- you mother.” Nick quickly kissed his mother. “Where’s Jarrod? I really need to talk to him.”

“With our guests, now come along.” Victoria tucked her arm into Nicks. “Where’s Heath?”

“Tending to Charger and Stealth, he’ll be in shortly.” Nick tried to disentangle himself from his mother. “I really need to talk to Jarrod before Heath gets here.”

Jarrod met them half way between the kitchen and the parlour. Victoria thought this was showing bad manners, leaving guests alone.

“Silas has given them both a drink and is now showing them both to their rooms” Jarrod explained.

“Very well then.” Victoria departed in the general direction of the garden.

“Nick is Heath alright?” Jarrod asked anxiously his eyes searching for any sign of his youngest brother.

“Physically yes, but other wise no. He looks like hell. Jarrod if you’d asked that question two days ago I’d have yes but…”

“Nick what changed? Does Heath know about the murders of the ex inmates at Carterson?”

“Found a three day old paper in the saloon at San Pedros, took it back upstairs to our room the lead story was the murder of two men. Heath read it and pieced the rest together.”

“Damn” Jarrod smacked his balled right fist into the palm of his left hand. “I was hoping the two of you would get home before he found out.”

“Would you mind telling me what’s going on?” Nick’s voice got louder. “And why do we have guests in the house at a time like this? Jarrod he didn’t say so in so many words but our little brother is in danger.”

“Nick, I know. One of guests is sort of tied into this. Or at least the task he asked me to undertake is.”

“ There’s more. On the trial last night Heath, well Heath had a nightmare, god Jarrod it was awful. He went back in his mind to that hell hole Carterson. To a time when one of those sob guards was beating him.” By now Nick was pacing the floor of the parlour. “Who are these guests anyway?"

“Govenor Mantle and an Englishman by the name of Henry Redforth. Redforth wants me to try…” Jarrod broke off as the sound of boots could be heard heading their way from the kitchen.

Nick was right Heath did look like hell. Pale, unshaven and haunted.

“Jarrod.” Heath greeted his eldest brother.

“Welcome home Heath.” Jarrod returned the greeting. “Good trip?’

“Not bad thanks Jarrod. Either of you two want a drink?” Heath moved to the drinks stand.

“I wouldn’t say no.” Nick answered.

“Why not?” Jarrod watched Heath reach for the whiskey bottle.

Being so warm in the house Heath had removed his jacket as he entered the kitchen. At some point during the nightmare that morning he had managed to rip the back of his shirt at the right shoulder. As Heath reached for the glasses it flapped open. Nick turned away in disgust unable to stomach seeing the scars on his brother’s back again. For Jarrod it was an eye opener.

He now finally understood what Heaths twin Heather had said to him just before she and their sister Audra had left for Nevada, a little under four weeks ago.

Over dinner the night before the girls had left the subject of Matt Bentell and the lumber project he was handling for the family had come up. He explained to Heather how the project had come about, as it had began before she had joined the family, and how it had been decided that her twin should accompany Matt and his wife Lucinda to the site and act as their bodyguard.

“How could you Jarrod?” Heather had flung her napkin on the table and was glaring at him. Her eyes green with anger.

“Honey it was for the best.” He had told her “We needed somebody who could protect Bentell and his wife, somebody who knew the faces of other ex-Carterson inmates and could detect any possible trouble. Plus it would give Heath a chance to work with Matt and lose the hate.”

“Lose the hate?” She’d flung back at him “Did you expect him to thank Bentell for what he did? You spoke of the Barkley family courage, do you want to hear about real courage?”

“Heather” Victoria had looked at her angry daughter. “It’s this kind of anger and hate, like you’re displaying now, that needed to be lost. We were afraid it would tear Heath apart and in the end we, the family, would lose him.”

“Heather. No!” Heath tried to stop her.

“Heath they have to hear this. They have to know. I have to make them understand what kind of a monster he was.” Heathers eyes softened as she looked at her twin. “You don’t have to be here.”

The twins locked eyes for a moment.

“You weren’t there Jarrod, Mother.” Heather took up where she’d left off. “None of you were there. You didn’t see what that animal had done, or had ordered to be done. Well I did. I was there four days after Heath was moved to the army hospital from that stinking place. I saw how sick he was, how thin, how there were fresh open cuts on his back, on top of half healed ones, on top of healed ones.” Angry eyes travelled from Jarrod’s face to Victoria’s and back again. “ Not giving in to Bentell. Fighting to stay alive not giving in to the call to curl up and die that is real courage, the stuff he inherited from Tom Barkley. Now do you understand? Because if you don’t then you aren’t our brother” She looked straight at Jarrod. “ Or our mother” Green eyes glowed at Victoria.

With hate still burning in her eyes Heather had stormed out of the dining room and had left with Audra the next morning.

Looking at the portion of Heaths back that showed through the ripped shirt Jarrod acknowledged to himself that he indeed finally understood. He also knew now that it had been wrong on his part to have forced Heath to go with the Bentell’s. When this was over and Heather was back home he’d have a long talk to both of them and apologize.

“Heath we need to talk.” He told his younger brother as he took the whiskey glass.

“Yeah I know Jarrod, Cal, Russ and their murders.” Heath looked at both of his brothers.

“We also need to talk about Charles Redforth.” Jarrod looked into Heaths eyes hoping for some sort of reaction.

“Who the hell is Charles Redforth?” Nick butted in with.

“Charlie Red? What’s this got to do with Charlie?”

“Everything, if I’m right.” He looked at his youngest brother. “ And I am right aren’t I Heath?”

“Yes.” Heath admitted. “Jarrod I think I know who’s behind this and what they want.”

“And all of this can wait until Heath and Nick go upstairs have a bath and get some rest.” The voice of Victoria Barkley announced. “Don’t even think about protesting Jarrod.”

Two hours later after both brothers had taken a bath and had a small nap the group reconvened in the Barkley family library.

“ Victoria this really isn’t going to be a fit and proper discussion for a lady.” Mantle protested as Victoria swept into the library between Nick and Heath.

“Richard if it involves one of my sons, then it involves me as well.” Victoria’s tone invited no argument.

“For the benefit of my family” Jarrod began “I’ll just recap a few events. Two days ago, Richard and Mr Redforth along with Lord Edward Worthington came to my office and asked for my help to locate Mr Redforth's cousin Charles. We didn’t have much to go on just that Charles Redforth came to California after an argument with his father and that he told his family in the last letter that they received that he was taking up arms for the Union Army. Now since then Mr Redforth I’ve learned one or two more things.”

Redforth sat forward in his seat.

“Your cousin Charles did indeed take up arms like he said in fact he ended up, and I’m sorry to have to say this to you, in Carterson prison.” Jarrod looked squarely at Redforth.

“In there?” This was a blow to Redforth. “Even in England we’ve heard of that place and the conditions.” He bowed his head. “Poor Charles, are you sure Mr Barkley?”

“Yes it seems he knew my brother Heath.” Jarrod indicated to where Heath was sitting.

“But you’re too young son.” Redforth looked at Heath.

“I fought in the war and I did end up there.” Heath confirmed. “Spent seven months there shared a cell with Charlie Red for most of the time.”

“He called himself that?”

“Yeah that’s what we all knew him as.”

“Charlie Red was a name he would use when he did something his father didn’t approve of.” Redforth hung his head. “It’s Charles alright. What happened to him?”

“On the last day before the camp was liberated they took him away I tried to stop them. I heard him scream once and then nothing, I blacked out. Next thing I knew I was in the camp hospital and the Union Army was in control. I didn’t see him again.”

“And now it appears as if somebody is murdering his former cell mates one by one.” Jarrod took over. “ The two men who were murdered in recent time were both from the same cell.”

A knock to the door put a halt to any further discussion.

“Excuse me Mrs Barkley” Silas entered the room “But this just arrived for Governor Mantle.”

Silas entered the room and handed the telegram to Mantle.

“Three men now.” Mantle handed the message to Jarrod “Hank Kurts was found in an alley at Still Waters. Heath that just leaves you and John Wild left.”

“Heath you told me and Nick earlier you believe you know who’s behind this and why.”

“I think but can’t prove that Major Jed Samuelson the ex second in command is the one behind these killings, and what he’s looking for is the secret that Charlie made us all swear never to tell.”

“The dagger.” Redforth looked at Heath. “ Charles told you about it?”

“Yeah. One time after another session with Samuelson Charlie was ranting with fever he mentioned it, told as how it belong to your family for years, what it was worth. He made us promise not to say anything. He split the information between us. He told Cal, Russ and Hank just that it was on his farm in Coleville, he told Johnny the exact location of the farm.” Heath hung his head as what he had just said sunk in.

“And you Heath?” Victoria asked gently. “What did he tell you?”

“He told me exactly where it was hidden and what, if he died, he wanted to happen to it.”

“Where’s the dagger now?” Jarrod asked.

“Still in it’s hiding spot. I went and checked on it soon after they let me out of the hospital and the last time I checked was just before I came here. It was still there, still wrapped in its water tight packaging.”

“What’s so special about this knife anyway?” Nick, who had been sitting quietly listening to what was being said around him, asked.

“What makes the dagger special is what it is made out of.” Redforth explained. “It’s pure gold, a twelve inch blade with a hilt carved in the shape of a dragons head. The eyes of the dragon are pure blood-red rubies and it’s worth a kings ransom.”

“Heath?” Jarrod looked at his brother for confirmation of what Redforth had said.

“That’s how Charlie described it, but if you’re asking me if that’s right I’ve never seen it. All I’ve seen is the parcel.”

“You’ve never opened it?” Nick asked astonished

“Nope, just checked it was safe and left.”

“What did my cousin say he wanted done with the dagger?” Redforth inquired.

...Continued