Everything was wrong. It was wrong that the missus left Halley and Moseley to bring her valuables in the middle of the night. It was wrong that Moseley died fighting to protect someone else's things, when he owned nothing, not even himself. It was wrong that the birds were free and Halley was not. When a Yankee soldier dies in her arms, Halley seizes the opportunity, his uniform, his horse, and his identity. She follows her inner compass north, to...