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Castaways in Time
Book One of the Castaways in Time Series
Modern-day Americans catapulted into a wild English past—could they survive in a world where warfare was a way of life?
A whirlwind in time
It was a storm to end all storms, and when it was over Sebastian Foster and his five unexpected house guests—all refugees from the fury of wind and rain—should have been happy just to be alive. But when the clouds finally cleared, the world outside Bass's home was no longer the twentieth-century America they all knew. Instead, through some bizarre twist in time, the six of them had ended up in England's past. But it was a past that never existed in any history book, a place where the Church was waging a holy war to dispose Arthur III and make his nephew king of England and Wales.
Thrust into this barbaric world of bloody combat, the time travelers were quick to realize that their modern weapons and knowledge could change the whole course of this England's future—and maybe help them find their way home again—if the warring factions didn't destroy them before they even had a chance to get started. |
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About the Author
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Robert Adams (1932-1990) is best known as the creator of one series, The Horseclans. Heavy on the action, these tales are set in the 26th Century of immortal mutant warriors in a balkanized North America The history of the brave horse-riders grew from the first tale of Milo Morai (written by Adams while in hospital) into a vast saga. Some novels feature big cats instead of horses. Adams also edited several anthologies of note, Magic in Ithkar with Andre Norton and Barbarians with his wife, Pamela Crippen Adams, and Martin Greenberg.
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Reviews
"One of the best time adventures I've ever read" —Andre Norton
"An enthralling adventure by a master storyteller" —Gordon R. Dickson
Excerpt
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Charge!
Foster grabbed his gun as a trio of helmeted men trotted into sight. They seemed oblivious to the fact that they were all within easy range of the rifled slugs in Foster's riotgun as they jogged forward. His first shot—fired mostly in warning—plowed up dust and stone shards a few feet in front of their muddy boots. But when they started firing back, he decided to stop being civilized and to start playing for keeps.
At his second shot, a mob of at least a dozen of the helmeted men poured from among the outbuildings, shouting and waving long, heavy swords. Foster opened fire carefully, making every slug count. He got five before they broke; the sixth one he shot in the back.
He was relaxing for a minute, feeling for his canteen, when a section of the wall behind him fell away and several pairs of strong hands dragged him down, into blackness...
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