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NEW AUTHORS SHOWCASE
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05-11-10 12M P3 |
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The Horse Keeper by A R Forte |
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I have tried a different approach to the standard Civil War novel by probing into the heart and soul of the simple Civil War soldier and attempt to portray what he suffers, hears, sees and the gut-wrenching fear he feels as his regiment desperately grapples with the enemy, inflicting and suffering devastating casualties. I have carefully studied the character and countenance of the Confederate Generals Jubal Early, James Longstreet, Stonewall Jackson, Richard Ewell and Robert E Lee from several sources. This is to try to bring the plot to a believable reality, which includes the assassination of Abraham Lincoln during the closing chapters. The only novels that I can reasonably compare THE HORSE KEEPER with is somewhere between Bruce Canon’s THIS HALLOWED GROUND, Jonathan Crane’s RED BADGE OF COURAGE and Michael Shaara’s KILLER ANGELS , (portrayed in film as GETTYSBURG). I took two main factors into account while trying to balance the plot; a strong story line with believable characters and a pocket, but detailed history lesson. I have attempted to aim my work at the young reader as well as the ardent Civil War buff, by keeping up a momentum of action and adventure through the whole plot, while moving strictly within the parameters of historical facts. I am also trying to appeal to the reader who may have little detailed knowledge of this tragic conflict as to what it was like for the young Civil War soldier. A R Forte
SYNOPSIS The plot follows the plight of a fictional Confederate soldier named Wayne Rawlins. It graphically covers what happens to his life from when he is wrenched from his father’s small farm and stables and follows his plight from his positions in some of the most terrible battles in history; the second Bull Run battle, the Chancellorsville battle, the horrible Wilderness battle and the infamous Bloody Angle massacre, during the desperate Spotsylvania Court House battle.
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Introduction. RAMBLING BACK. June. 1868.
Luke gently reigned in the train of young horses as he finally pulled his own horse to a halt when they reached the hilltop. He looked down into the valley and was pleased with what he saw. The deep, lush greenery around the dense, low slung meadow was perfect for grazing and also the canopy of trees provided an excellent place to camp for the night. He looked over his shoulder and said to the six fillies and three young males. “Well , boys and gals, looks like we gotta’ damn good place to restup’ an’ feed.” The horses responded to the tenderness in his voice by moving their beautiful heads in unison. They were indeed a fine bunch and Luke had paid the rancher cash for them, without even bothering to haggle and barter. After all Luke knew exactly what he was looking for and he would certainly be doing business with Tex Bodell again. The only man that knew more about horses than Luke was about a days ride away and Luke was looking forward to handing these gems to his friend and mentor. Before descending into the valley he took a sweeping look around. Luke loved the land and he felt part of its invisible ambience. He loved every mountain, skyline valley, glade, river and body of water. It flowed through his soul like an eternal stream of creativity and growth. So as he gently pulled and tugged at the long line to lead his obedient fold down into the valley, he could not of been prepared for what was about to happen. When they approached the meadow he received a stark warning. As he dismounted and led the troupe into the deep grass, firstly his own horse became disturbed and immediately after, the rest of the horses began to fret and fidget. They were afraid of something and Luke felt the cold clasp of fear suddenly grab his spine. “Easy, easy boys and gals, there’s nothin’ round here to be afraid of.” he said. He tethered the train to a solitary tree further back from the glade and walked briskly under the canopy of trees with the grass lashing around his boots, determined to get to the root of the horses disturbance. He did not have look far to find out what it was. As soon as he entered under the shadows of the trees and at exactly at the same instant, he felt his boot kick something and his eagle eye caught something to his left. The broken artillery piece was covered in ivy and deep undergrowth, but he knew a ‘Napoleon’ when he saw one. Looking down he noticed with horror that his boot had caught a human skull. As his eyes adjusted to the shade, the scene told him what must of happened here, a few years before. The tangle of bones grew into a more concentrated conglomeration in the centre of the glade. The rotting, mildew ridden fabric, some blue, some grey, told Luke that this had been the scene of a fierce engagement. Mother nature had tried to weave her mysterious web over this dastardly deed, but she had not had enough time to cover them with her veil of green. The barrels of the broken Parrot cannons protruded from the bracken and tall weeds pointing in all directions. Luke pictured the scene as much as the macabre evidence graphically informed him. Rebels soldiers descending from all sides, whooping and screaming the Rebel yell. Disciplined, but terrified Union boys cutting them down with musket fire and decapitating bodies with canister and shot from the artillery pieces and finally the inevitable hand to hand fight, with bayonet and sword. Luke suddenly felt as though he was trespassing and intruding on a hallowed and sacred place. He turned around and walked back. Looking towards the sky with tears in his eyes he said. “Why, why did you let this happen? Why did you not intervene and stop it, why?” He unhitched the horses which appeared to be quietly observing his distress and said “Well, boys and gals, looks like we’re gonna’ have to find somewhere else tonight.” He finally found a suitable place to camp about an hour later, on the other side of the hill that rose from the back of the hidden and beautifully camouflaged cemetery. The horses had been quiet as they approached the next cluster of trees and dense shrubbery and Luke took stock of their manner and countenance in quiet interest and relief He woke early the next morning and after brewing up a strong pot of coffee and making sure that the horses had been watered by a nearby stream, he saddled up his own horse and made ready to leave. Luke was nowhere near as strong and as powerfully built as his mentor and benefactor, but he was tall, lean, athletic and had incredible stamina and endurance. Very few men could spend as much time in the saddle and cover such vast tracks of land as he could in a day. If he had not decided to take this overland route back to the ranch and had stayed on the dusty roads, he would of not stumbled upon the tragic reminder that a terrible war had scarred and tarnished this benign and fertile land. But this was no time for regrets and pondering over unfortunate incidents. This was the time Luke loved best about his forays and travels; rambling back. He was rambling back under his own steam. The deal had been done and he had bought merchandise well above his expectations. But above all of this he knew that his mentor would be pleased and that warmed his heart. He was looking forward to the twin boys running towards him across the yard and carrying each one as they hung onto his legs. And of course he could sure use a hot meal and warm bed. *****
It was a magnificent sunrise that greeted Luke as he negotiated the final boulders and rocks when he reached the top of the final hill that overlooked the ranch. The sun was glowing a bright orange and scarlet and violet cloud formations stretched across the horizon like branches of atmospheric trees. He looked down onto the ranch far below and the rooster called as if it had been waiting for him to arrive. Smoke spiralled up from the chimney of the ranch house and he knew that Belinda was busy at work in the kitchen. The twins, Kyle and Virgil would still be sound asleep in their bunks. Luke doted on the twins and they saw him more like a big brother, rather than an surrogate uncle. The war had cheated Luke out of his own childhood, the very fibre of his youth and he knew that he owed everything to the fiery, tough and mysterious loner that had given him a life-line. He was about as content as a young man could be, considering all of the horror, fear and gut wrenching injustice he had seen and lived through in his desperate former life. He smiled , then looked over his shoulder and winked at the train of fine beasts. His heart swelled with pride as he loudly announced. “Well, boys and gals, it’s time to meet your new master and ma’ boss.” His gaze then turned down towards the labyrinth of stables, barns and pens. He knew that somewhere amongst that tangle of wood, delivering newly born foals, or feeding and attending to sickly fillies and caring for the animals that he had been born to love, protect and nurture, was the Horse Keeper...
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