Jasper by Tony Riches Read Free Book Online

story. The long history of the English recruiting Irishmen to fight their wars meant large numbers sailed to France and Normandy. Now they fought in England’s civil war, for whichever side paid the best.
    Each week Jasper called at the house of Master Conley to see if visiting ships brought any messages from Wales. There were none so far, although he did learn of a merchant trader bound for Waterford. Gabriel had become restless and asked if he could sail on the voyage.
    ‘I would like to see Waterford again, track down my family there.’
    ‘You’ve worked hard and served me well, Gabriel. I think we both deserve a break from the delights of Cork.’
    ‘You won’t regret it, sir.’ Gabriel smiled in appreciation of the irony. ‘There’s no prettier place than County Waterford.’

      The St Helene ,a strongly built carrack, was well suited to regular crossings of the channel between Ireland and Wales. Jasper smelt fresh tar as he crossed the gangplank and noted the scrubbed deck and neatly stowed ropes, an encouraging sign. Master Conley had bought half her cargo of bales of Welsh fleeces, and the remainder were destined for the wool-merchants of Dublin. Her captain, a stocky, long-bearded Welshmen, wore a fisherman’s cap and peered curiously at Jasper when they met.
    ‘Do I know you, sir?’ The challenge in his voice echoed his abrupt manner.
    Jasper preferred to tell a half-truth to a lie. ‘I’m often in Tenby on business, you might have seen me there?’
    ‘Quite possibly.’ The captain’s eyes brightened at the sight of Jasper’s silver coins, payment for their passage north, which he slipped into a pocket. ‘There’s a fair wind, sir. If it turns we’ll rest awhile in the bay at Tramore, but I hope to make landfall before midnight.’
    ‘Thank you, Captain.’ Jasper led Gabriel to the bows, out of the way of the men loading the ship, before the captain could ask more questions. The longer he could divert York’s search for him to North Wales the better.
    They watched as the men on the quay cast off the heavy mooring warps. Jasper turned at the sound of a loud splash, and saw men in the longboat had carried the anchor as far from the ship as possible and dropped it to the seabed. The master bellowed to men on the capstan to warp the ship out to it and the deck shuddered under their feet as the ship pulled away from the quay.
      Once the anchor was hauled aboard they cleared the busy harbour and sailors began unfurling the sails and heaving on halyards. A light breeze soon billowed in the mainsail, and the ship lurched forward with the power of the wind. Sailing had always fascinated Jasper and he promised himself one day he would own a ship.
    The dark, tranquil waters within the sheltered bay of Cork’s Lough Mahon gave little clue to conditions out at sea, although a cloudless, pastel sky offered the promise of good sailing as they picked their way down the River Lee. When they passed the outer islands Jasper saw the first white-crested waves and tasted the tang of salt in the air as the wind freshened.
    ‘What do you suggest we do in Waterford, Gabriel?’
    ‘We could buy some fine horses and ride back?’ His face lit up at the thought. ‘My father used to talk of the hobelars, the Irish cavalry.’ He saw Jasper’s puzzled look. ‘They called themselves the skirmishers, sir. Rode Irish hobbies, swift and light of foot and good in the bogs and woodlands of these parts.’
    ‘We can find them in Waterford?’
    ‘There’s a horse fair every month.’ Gabriel looked thoughtful. ‘They don’t breed true hobbies now, though, no call for it, but we might find a few crossbreeds if we’re lucky.’
    Jasper agreed. ‘I still miss my old horse.’ A sharp memory of their defeat at Mortimer’s Cross caused his bitter anger against Edward of York to rise in his blood, darkening his thoughts. Jasper stared out to sea, east towards Wales, and wondered how Henry was in Pembroke. He’d heard