Free Devil's Dream by Madison Smartt Bell

through runnen’m out of there today. Brother Bill, did ye see anything such as that?”
    “No,” Bill Forrest said.
    “I’ll wager ye didn’t,” Forrest said. “How much water is it down there anyhow?”
    “Some,” Bill said. “Might git yore feet wet.”
    “Might git yore feet wet,” Forrest repeated. “Them three ginrals got a doctor a-tellen’m the whole army’ll die if it gits they feet wet. Doctor Cowan?” He called to the surgeon who sat on a stone beside the fire. “Is this army all bound to catch pneumonia and die if they was to oncet get their feet wet?”
    “Some might catch cold,” Doctor Cowan said.
    “Some might catch cold,” said Forrest. “Now that is such a godawful risk I druther have my sorry ass drug off to a Federal prison not to run it. How about you?”
    “Not necessarily,” Doctor Cowan said.
    “Well jest you try tellen that to them three ginrals down there,” Forrest said. “They’re a-setten up in that there Dover Inn a-studyen jest
how
to set about surrenderen nigh fifteen thousand men to an army they just got done whuppen. So they won’t get their
goddamn
feet wet! Jesus Christ nailed on the cross wept tears of burning blood!”
    Kelley, sitting by the fire, uncrossed his legs and crossed them again the other way.
    “Brother,” Bill Forrest folded his arms across his deep chest. “What do we aim to do?”
    “Boots and saddles,” Forrest snapped. “We’re a-goen to Nashville and we’re goen right now.”
    Y ET WHEN THEY CAME near the floodplain below Dover, Forrest was taken by a spirit of caution. Earlier that night Buckner’s scouts had brought in a report of Federal troops moving in, under cover of darkness, along the Nashville road.
    “Come on, boys,” Forrest said to Henri and Jeffrey, who had limbered up enough to ride. “Let’s run out ahead and have us a looksee.”
    The chilly stars of Orion glittered above a field of empty snow. Henri let his head roll back, gazed up at the hunter’s jeweled sword belt. The stars where he came from were different from these.
    Forrest guided them under cover of a straggle of thorn trees onthe slope. When he reached the last of them he raised a hand for the party to halt, still hidden in the bristly shadow of the trees. Henri’s breath clicked off when he saw a line of infantry still on the crest of the next snow-covered rise. For a long slow time no one moved or made a sound and even the horses’ breath steamed out in silence.
    Then Forrest let out a sour chuckle and nudged his horse from the shelter of the thorns. He pushed his mount into an even canter, turning parallel to the enemy line. Henri and Jeffrey exchanged a quick glance and went after him. At closer range the immobile rank of enemy troops was revealed by the weak starlight to be a picket fence.
    M OST EVERY RIDER carried a foot soldier behind when they crossed the slough, for a good number of Buckner’s infantry had chosen to take their chances with Forrest on the escape. First-dawn light was pale on the water as the horses waded through. On the far shore Henri’s passenger thanked him as he slipped down, and Henri overtook Forrest, who was talking, though he rode alone. Maybe he was encouraging his horse, or praying. But Forrest never prayed.
    “… bilepukenlilyliversnakebellysonsaJehosophat,” Forrest was chanting as Henri drew alongside him. “If they think I raised up all these men and armed’m and fed’m and brung’m up here to surrender the lot of ’m to a
goddamn picket fence
, well they got another think comen, them fleascratchenscumlickeneggsuckensonsa—”
    Strange rode up on Forrest’s other side. “That’s kind of a rough way to talk about your superior officers, don’t you think?”
    “Superior to what?” Forrest said.

CHAPTER SEVEN
November 1857
    T HERE WAS A PLENTY of white and dark meat both on the Thanksgiving table, for Forrest had surprised a flock of turkeys drifting across a pasture on his Coahoma County