Mountain Folk by John Hood

Mountain Folk by John Hood

Author:John Hood [Hood, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Revolutionary War, Daniel Boone, George Washington, Dwarf, Cherokee, fairy, John Hood
Publisher: Defiance Press & Publishing, LLC
Published: 2021-06-07T22:00:00+00:00


It was afternoon when Har found Peter again. Many of Peter’s men had advanced past the mill and through Germantown itself, driving the redcoats before them with bayonets and musket fire. When he saw the Dwarf out of the corner of his eye, Peter turned his horse and dropped back from the front line, casting a look around to see if Colonel Mathews was nearby. But the colonel and his Ninth Virginia Regiment had pursued the retreating British still farther, beyond the village.

“I take it you couldn’t chase it away,” Peter said as Har stumbled toward him.

“It is worse than that, Peter — far, far worse. At first, my summoning spell seemed to work. Then I saw them — or, to be more precise, I heard them first and then I saw them.”

“Saw who?” Peter asked.

“The Brownies,” Har replied. “There were at least two of them, using spellsong to prod the Fuath forward. The monster attacked me, Peter, and then it attacked the American troops closest to the river.”

Peter was aghast.

“The Americans fired a couple of volleys, then ran,” Har added. “The Fuath ignored them and kept going.”

“It’s coming this way?” Peter gasped.

“It could arrive at any moment,” Har confirmed, “and I have even more bad tidings. As I ran, I saw one of your Continental units mistake another for the enemy and fire at them. They fired back. Now both units are retreating. Your entire battle line is collapsing. The dense fog has proved to be a potent weapon.”

“If those units are broken, the British may be able to turn and take our men from multiple directions! We would be surrounded!”

Even as he expressed that worry, Peter heard drummers signal retreat and saw his Virginians respond. Nathaniel Greene must have correctly assessed the situation and decided on the only reasonable course. Pleased to see the Virginians backing up in good order, maintaining their formations and firing occasional volleys, Peter was nevertheless worried about Colonel Mathews and his regiment. They had enjoyed the most success. But their great progress had now put them in great danger.

“Come on, Har,” Peter said as he pulled the Dwarf up on his horse once more. “We must find Mathews and save those men.”

As his horse galloped forward, Peter spied a thin green shape looming ahead in the smoke and fog. Initially he thought it was a small pine tree and veered to avoid it. Then it moved.

First he saw a long snout, its fangs bared, followed by flared nostrils and two deep-set eyes, blazing red. Then a scaly, eleven-foot-tall green body materialized from the fog, dripping water and draped in weeds. Two long arms reached out vicious-looking claws. And Peter saw a dark-green ridge running along its back, from head to massive tail.

“The Fuath!” Har warned. “The Brownies will not be far behind.”

Peter considered sheathing his sword and drawing his pistol. But there was no time. The beast was almost upon him. Instead, Peter grasped his sword more firmly and spurred his horse to faster speed.



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