Valley of the Shadow: A Novel Read Online Free PDF

right about that. Just needed a few old soldiers around to jerk the brakes on the limbers before the entire battery rolled off the cliff.
    He stomped back up the stairs, single spur chinking, and pushed into the house he had taken as his temporary headquarters.
    The stale heat and crowding in the parlor drove him back onto the porch. Through the opened door, he barked, “Hotchkiss! Captain Hotchkiss! Moore, you go find Jed.”
    Then he sat down in the shade to wait. In the few minutes he had been gone, a new layer of dust had settled over things. Nor had the lemonade glass been filled again. The heat just pinned a man down. Below, a wagon that still bore U.S. markings rattled up the street, driven by a teamster who—rare in this show-your-ribs army—had a belly on him. Only when the wagon passed could Early see it was filled with collapsed soldiers.
    And Gordon wanted to march them harder still, afeared they wouldn’t make it to Washington before the Yankees caught their scent and loosed the hounds. That primping Georgian, in all his shimmering vanity, would get himself to Washington, all right. With three men and a dog, not a goddamned army. And still the fool men loved him.
    Early knew that few men and fewer women would love him . He consoled himself that he had accepted the bargain. But Gordon was a man he was born to resent. Not least after Gordon had been right that second dawn in the Wilderness. And after the Georgian made himself the hero of the Mule Shoe at Spotsylvania. Hero, my rump.
    Bugger fought, though. Only reason Early saw for keeping Gordon on. He fought. And he could make other men fight.
    That pestering wife of his, though. Following the army like a … like a …
    He found he could not mouth the word that had risen to his tongue. The image of Fanny Gordon was so palpable that he blushed, as if he had spoken crudely in her presence. He despised and deplored the business of wives in the camps, but Mrs. Gordon commanded a certain respect even from him. A formidable woman, Early considered her. Formidable. How the Frenchies said it. And handsome enough to turn a younger man’s head. At least Gordon had possessed the sense to leave her behind in Winchester this time.
    Jed Hotchkiss came out on the porch, the army’s wizard mapmaker and a queer young man, splay-bearded, who never quite joined up and held no formal commission, but had been adjudged a captain by common consent, doing better work than a dozen colonels.
    “Well?”
    “Maps haven’t changed, General.”
    “And?”
    “Tell you the same thing I told you yesterday morning: If you want to take this army to Washington, the best way’s through Frederick City and down across the Monocacy. Best room for maneuver to right or left, come what may. Keeps the Federals guessing, too. Until you tip your hand, you could be headed for Washington or Baltimore, either one.” Hotchkiss stood clutching his treasures, awaiting an order to spread them out in the dust. The man guarded his maps the way a sultan guarded his harem.
    No. Those maps were worth a damned sight more than a coop of Turkish harlots.
    “Well, sit down, Hotchkiss. Tired of telling you. Never been one to stand on ceremony.”
    The mapmaker smiled. “You have your moments, General.” He sat down. Dust puffed from the parlor chair that had been set on the porch.
    “Do I?” Early asked. “Suppose I do, at that. What do you reckon? How many marches to get this army to Washington? Frederick way?”
    “Three hard marches and a rush.”
    Early nodded. “Put us in sight of the Capitol July tenth.” He snorted. “Shame we missed the Fourth.” He calculated for a moment. “Cavalry could get there night of the ninth. For what those brigands are worth.”
    “If all goes well, sir.”
    Early leaned back, smiling. “Wonder how John Breckinridge will feel? Walking the halls of Congress? Not every former vice president returns a conqueror.”
    “No, sir. Sure enough not.”
    “Madcap