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Authors: Felicia Andrews

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Riverrun

BOOK: Riverrun
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RIVERRUN

By Charles L. Grant

Writing as Felicia Andrews

A Rendezvous Press Production

Rendezvous Press is an imprint of Crossroad Press

Digital Edition published by Crossroad Press

Digital Edition Copyright 2012 Kathryn Ptacek

Copy-edited by: Christine Steendam

LICENSE NOTES

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to the vendor of your choice and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Meet the Author

Photo by Jeff Schalles

Charles L. Grant taught English and history at the high school level before becoming a full-time writer in the ’70s. He served for many years as an officer in the Horror Writers Association and in Science Fiction Writers of America. 

He was known for his “quiet horror” and for editing the award-winning Shadows anthologies. He received the British Fantasy Society’s Special Award in 1987 for life achievement; in 2000, he was the recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award from HWA. Other awards include two Nebula Awards and three World Fantasy Awards for writing and editing. 

Charlie died from a lengthy illness on September 15, 2006, just three days after his birthday. He lived in Newton, NJ, and was married to writer/editor Kathryn Ptacek for nearly twenty-five years.

Book List

Horror

Novels

Black Oak: Genesis

Black Oak: The Hush of Dark Wings

Black Oak: Winter Knight

Black Oak: Hunting Ground

Black Oak: When the Cold Wind Blows

Fire Mask

For Fear of the Night

In A Dark Dream

Jackals

Millennium Quartet #1: Symphony

Millennium Quartet #2: In the Mood

Millennium Quartet #3: Chariot

Millennium Quartet #4: Riders in the Sky

Night Songs

Raven

Something Stirs

Stunts

The Bloodwind

The Curse

The Grave

The Hour of the Oxrun Dead

The Last Call of Mourning

The Nestling

The Pet

The Sound Of Midnight

The Tea Party

The Universe of Horror Trilogy

The Soft Whisper of the Dead

The Dark Cry of the Moon

The Long Night of the Grave

Collections

Dialing the Wind

Nightmare Seasons

The Black Carousel

The Orchard

Science Fiction

A Quiet Night of Fear

Ascension

Legion

Ravens of the Moon

The Shadow of Alpha

As “Geoffrey Marsh”

The Fangs of the Hooded Demon

The King of Satan’s Eyes

The Patch of the Odin Soldier

The Tail of the Arabian, Knight

As “Lionel Fenn”

The Quest for the White Duck Trilogy

Blood River Down

Web of Defeat

Agnes Day

668, the Neighbor of the Beast

By The Time I Get To Nashville

Mark of the Moderately Vicious Vampire

Once Upon a Time in the East

The Once and Future Thing

The Really Ugly Thing From Mar

The Reasonably Invisible Man

The Seven Spears of the W’dch’ck

Time, the Semi-Final Frontier

As “Simon Lake”

Daughter of Darkness

Death Cycle

Death Scream

He Told Me To

Shapes Berkley

Something’s Watching

The Clown

The Forever House

As “Felicia Andrews”

Moon Witch

Mountain Witch

Riverrun

River Witch

Seacliffe

Silver Huntress

The Velvet Hart

As “Deborah Lewis”

Eve of the Hound

Kirkwood Fires

The Wind at Winter’s End

Voices Out of Time

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RIVERRUN

BOOK ONE

The Road to Riverrun

1863

Chapter One

T
he farm lay in a shallow, quiet narrow valley that had been selectively cleared nearly a century before. It had been worked diligently, though not always profitably, by its three successive owners, but had never grown larger than its few score acres. The road that wound through the low surrounding hills passed in front of the main house, but those few horsemen and carriages trickling by saw little save a brief glimmer of fresh white behind a thick wall of hickory and willow. A cleanly hewn fence bounded the property stoutly, and a decorative false well marked the lane that swept under the trees to end at a wide, mown lawn. The fields themselves spread from behind the two-story wooden building on back to where the heavy forestland, now a tired green in the press of summer heat, resumed.

It was out of these woods that the uniformed rider came, late in the afternoon. He was slumped over his saddle, his right arm hanging uselessly at his side. The horse, a great gray gelding, picked its way carefully along a path between rows of what had once been corn before it had been snatched, unwilling and early, from its stalks. A crow rose squawking from the burnt-brown field, and the startled horse shied and snorted, pawing at the ground with a nervous forehoof. The rider, clutching grimly at the reins, wearily reached out to stroke the powerful neck, urging the beast on. Then he sagged forward, his shoulder pressing against the horse’s mane to prevent him from falling.

Closer to the house, a girl working in a small patch of vegetables heard the commotion raised by bird and horse, and looked up. The western sun glared into her eyes and she lifted a hand to shade her face. Her midnight-black hair was streaked with dust and tied into a loose bun at her neck, her work dress was drab and loose, and the sleeves had been pushed above her elbows. She leaned on her hoe, a strong hand gripping it lightly in anxious curiosity, but she made no move to reach for the gun that lay on the ground beside her foot. She waited instead until her eyes had adjusted to the glare, then gasped and dropped the hoe as she broke into a run toward the horse.

She had recognized the rider, and his white-blond hair now caked with dust and blood.

“Geoff!” she called, and doubled her speed when there was no answer.

The gray veered at her approach, jerking its great head aside when she snatched for the reins. She scowled, stifled a curse, and kept her voice low and calming.

“Easy, Falcon easy, easy …” she said. The horse seemed to whimper its understanding as she stroked its velvet-soft muzzle and worked her way around its massive shoulder to grasp the man’s hand clutching at the pommel. At the touch he raised his head weakly, stared at her blindly for several long seconds before his pain-dulled eyes brightened in recognition.

His wan smile nearly wrenched a cry from her throat. “You’ll have to help me this time, Cass,” he said, and fainted.

Cassandra’s first impulse was to race back to the house for help, but as he swayed groggily, she changed her mind and put a shoulder to his side to keep him on his mount. Then, reins in hand, she walked the horse across the fields. She no longer cared how many of the plants the sharp hooves kicked up; as it was, there wasn’t much left to save even though it was only the early part of July. Soldiers of the Union army had been coming through on an almost regular basis for the past few weeks, taking what they needed and leaving her and her family only tiny scraps of paper as payment; signed by an unknown commander. The voucher script was, her father had been instructed, to be turned in to yet another commander who would pay them hard money. Mr. Bowsmith, however, had not yet verified this assertion. When it had all begun, he had said he would be only too glad to assist the Union cause. However, as the fields grew more bare and the farm’s larder dwindled, his grumblings grew louder and his already quick temper much shorter.

Cassandra stumbled and leaned hard against the horse for support. The rider still slumped, and she touched his blue trouser leg affectionately. Geoff Hawk was in fact the only officer her father had been civil to lately. The captain had ridden in nearly two weeks before with a three-man patrol in search of forage. When he had seen the state of the Bowsmith farm, however, he had backed off politely, and somewhat shyly.

“It’s obvious you’ve done more than enough, Mr. Bowsmith,” he had said. “I certainly can’t take the food from your mouths just when you’ve set it on your plates.”

His smile had been broad when he’d turned it to Cassandra, and she had flushed as she darted a quick glance at her father before returning with a smile of her own.

BOOK: Riverrun
7.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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