The Seahorse by Michael Aye Read Free Book Online Page A

the dead man’s belt before he hit the ground. Turning, he fired and one of the rogues hit the street, blood oozing from a hole in his chest.
    The other man jumped into the carriage that had blocked their way. The driver who had been silent laid the whip to the horses and they took off. By this time Lord Ragland had descended from their coach. He calmly tucked his left arm behind his back, took aim with the pistol in his right hand, and fired. The shot echoed in the still night air and a scream was heard. The man that jumped into the carriage to make his escape now lay on the hard, cold cobblestones. The carriage with the driver dashed on into the darkness.
    Damme, Anthony thought looking at Lord Ragland with renewed respect. No wonder he’s won so many duels. The man has ice water for nerves.
    Lord Ragland shot the first rogue in the only place he could without fear of hitting Bart…the head. A head shot from ten paces, drunk and minimal lighting. He then shot another man at thirty paces from a racing carriage.
    â€œWell, damme,” Anthony said aloud. “It was a poor showing I put on.”
    â€œAt least you and Bart had your wits.”
    Bart was tending to the driver of their carriage. He’d been shot in the shoulder and a handkerchief was used to staunch the flow of blood. Several lights were appearing in windows along the street and a few of the more curious ventured out. A couple of watchmen were now on the scene and someone had sent for the constable. A doctor had also been sent for.
    Sitting back in the coach waiting on the constable, Ragland spoke quietly to Anthony. “Do you recall the remark about a reward on your head?”
    â€œAye. I haven’t forgotten. I wish we’d been able to learn more. Whoever it is went out of their way to make it look like robbery rather than murder.”
    â€œWell, it’s glad I am to be putting to sea again,” Bart chimed in.
    â€œI agree with that,” Ragland replied. “It’ll do no harm to get out of the country for a while.”
    â€œI wonder,” Anthony replied, deep in thought. “I wonder.”

Chapter Eight

    Lord Anthony looked at Bart all decked out in his new Admiral’s cox’n uniform. His others had faded from being continuously washed at sea in salt water. Regardless of the new blue jacket with gilt buttons, nankeen trousers, and brass buckled shoes, Bart still looked like a rugged old salt. His hair was starting to show a little salt and pepper but that did little to disguise the fearsome appearance of the man.
    â€œWell, Bart, you ready to go down and greet our captain?”
    â€œAye,” the cox’n replied, “I’m ready to see yews flag flying again. It should be at the fore I’m thinking and will be before long iffen them block’eads at the Admiralty can put down their wine glasses and get out of some wenches’ beds.”
    â€œBart…you’re talking about his Majesty’s officers.”
    â€œMore like ’is Majesty’s bumpkins and that’s no error.”
    Turning to look in the mirror, Anthony straightened the new epaulettes on his shoulders. Would he ever see the single star replaced by two stars? Was the thought of Vice Admiral only a dream?
    â€œTime to go,” Bart said, breaking Anthony’s train of thought.
    He was dining with his officers here at the George Inn. It was a chance to meet each of the captains in a neutral environment. That was a trick his father had taught him and one he’d passed on to Gabe. Tomorrow he would go aboard his new flagship for the first time. Then it would be only a matter of days before they set sail.
    A knock on the door caught Anthony off guard and made him jump as he’d been reaching for the knob when the knock occurred.
    â€œJittery, ain’t yew,” Bart said.
    â€œHush, damn you.”
    â€œThere ye go again taking out yews nerves on a poor jack tar.”
    Bart then