The drums roll

The crack of drums rolls across a makeshift Revolutionary‑War camp, stirring the heat‑soaked men from their lazy noon reverie. In the glow of a mess‑fire, a small group of soldiers—hunched, hungry, and half‑clad in torn shirts—listen as the rhythm signals a new march, even though the supply wagons have stalled and their belongings lie lost in the mud. The scene is vivid with the smell of butter, cracked tents and the relentless October wind that carries ash and unease through the ranks.

At the heart of this restless circle sit Ira Parcel, a farmer‑turned‑militiaman whose scarred knee and quiet, precise movements hint at a past that doesn’t quite fit the ordinary soldier. Opposite him, the hulking, quick‑tongued Tod Barkeloo spars with the mystery of Parcel’s story, his booming voice and restless muscles marking him as a man who lives for the clash of battle. Their uneasy camaraderie foreshadows a deeper conflict, as each man wrestles with the grind of endless marching and a growing suspicion that something far more personal lies beneath the drumbeat.