Iron Horsemen (31 page)

“I'll see if the queen can't intervene on your behalf, it's the least that we can do.” The baron turned to Professor Armitage. “I thank you for everything you've done and hope you'll remain at Eton.”

“I intend to, thank you, and please extend my gratitude to her majesty.”

I set down my leather bag and asked, “Do you know what happened to Kannard or Hendrix?”

Sinclair nodded and the baron said, “They've fled to America for now. The Knights of the Golden Circle are stronger there, but they'll be back. We must be ever vigilant. Worry not, the Templars will keep our eyes upon them.”

The duke spoke up. “Zerelda has rejoined the Storm Vulture. The urn was not among the remnants of her steed.”

I wondered about the Iron Horsemen, but already knew the answer. They were still out there. The comet had passed, and no longer lingered in the sky, but fragments still trailed behind it. The stories I'd heard crept back into my mind. The disasters they tried to bring would still loom on the horizon until all the horsemen were destroyed.

Sinclair said. “Don't you worry lad, we've got it handled for now. You focus on school.”

“Thank you, I will.”

“I've got my eye on you.”

The professor stepped forward. “There's no need for that, my son needs to focus on his studies.”

I glared at my father, then turned to Baron Kensington. “Excuse me, but I was wondering if Genevieve was at home? I wanted to see if she was okay.”

The baron smiled. “Actually she's in the carriage. I think
she wanted to make certain you were well.”

“Father, may I go?”

“Yes, but be back soon for dinner.”

I ran off, taking the stairs three at a time and ignoring the pain in my leg. Out into the courtyard, Finn sat atop the steam carriage. My heart was pounding and my palms were sweaty. I tried to calm myself, but thinking of her almost made me dizzy. I leaned casually against the wheel.

“Hi Finn. Hope you're well.”

“Well enough.”

I took a deep breath and started to say something else clever, but Finn beat me to it.

“You gonna stand there all day or what?”

I turned and looked into the steam carriage where Genevieve watched me with a smile on her face. She opened the door and stepped out. A long gray dress with a high collar and flowing skirt spilled out behind her. Her locket shimmered on the silver chain curling around her neck. With her hair bound in an elaborate wrap, and makeup coloring her cheeks, she looked so much older than sixteen.

“You look great, but I think I got used to the pants.”

Genevieve laughed. “The uniform looks … uncomfortable. But very dapper.”

“It is, and thanks.”

Genevieve looked to the ground unable to meet my gaze. “Alexander, I wanted to come so I could tell you myself. My father is headed to Egypt to recuperate, and I'm going with him.”

“Oh … will you be back?”

“Yes, but not for awhile.”

“May I write you?”

“I would like that.”

I smiled, and my heart soared, and I wanted to kiss her right here in the street, but a loud voice called from across the courtyard.

“Well, look who's all dressed up. Where're those two bilge rats that crawled out of the river?”

“Captain Baldarich!” I shook his hand, and nodded to Mr. Singh and Ignatius. The three slapped me on the back and bowed and kissed Genevieve's hand. “What are you doing here?”

The captain laughed. “You are looking at Privateers for Her Royal Highness.”

“Privateers?”

“Oh yes, we are official pirates of the British Empire. Can you believe it? Now we're just like Captain Morgan. Looks like your little adventure and our help in that final battle will prove profitable after all. Not to mention we got to stick it to the Kaiser one more time.”

“Congratulations. So where to now?”

“We go looking for that pirate witch and continue stealing from the rest of the world and all who oppose the Queen.”

Genevieve smiled. “I still need to pay you for our passage on the Sparrowhawk.”

Baldarich laughed. “Nope, your father took care of that, too.” He put his arms around both of us. “I want you two to take care of yourselves, and if you ever need anything you let me know. I like you. In fact, there's room in the crew if you're interested.”

Genevieve shook her head.

I chuckled. “I'd love to skip detention and join the crew. Privateering sounds like fun, but there are things I have to do.” I looked at Genevieve and thought about how to win her over from the duke's son. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I had to try. “Keep in touch, who knows in few years, I may need that job.”

Baldarich threw back his head and laughed. “I'd have you on my crew anytime.”

I extended my hand. “Indihar, I have to thank you for
everything you did.”

We shook hands. Genevieve bowed and said, “Most definitely, and thank you for convincing Captain Baldarich not to throw us overboard.”

Indihar bowed. “I was only repaying my debt to your father.”

“Only!” Baldarich put his arm around Indihar and pulled him closer. “I'll have you know this man was offered a position in the queen's guard and turned her down. He'd rather be a Privateer.”

“I have found my path; I know the road that god has laid before me. It is I who should thank the two of you.”

Baldarich laughed. “You two stay out of trouble. I'm sure we'll see you around.”

The three of them headed off leaving Genevieve and I alone beside the steam carriage.

“Take care of yourself,” I said. “I hope Egypt is fun.” I peered up at my father's office window. “I should get back, besides your father will be down in a minute.”

“Alexander I—”

“No words are needed; just know that I will prove myself worthy.”

She shook her head as a tear formed in her eye. “You are worthy, you always….”

I hugged her and felt her arms wrap around my neck. I didn't care how much detention I'd get.

“I may not be a knight yet, but I will be.” I smiled and whispered in her ear so Finn couldn't hear. “Don't worry. Our adventures aren't over.”

~ Alexander Armitage will return in
Iron Zulu
~

First, I have to thank two wonderful authors, my critique partners, Cole Gibsen and T.W. Fendley. They've read too many of my words and I give them credit for all the good ones. Many thanks to my reader Ashley Harrison, she's been a supporter from the start and that's a really long time. Next I have to thank the board members I served with at St. Louis Writers Guild without their help and guidance I wouldn't be where I am. I've met some great writers, authors, editors, agents, and more over the years and they all had a part in making this book better.

Shout out to the Write Pack – David, Jennifer, Jamie, Matt, Melanie, Fedora, and Kathleen.

The one I truly owe is Mrs. Goldman my first creative writing teacher. Each year we made a book, and it was those books that started me down the road to this book.

I've been informed I must thank the one who tirelessly sits by side as I type every word–my cat.

And thanks mom.

To my wife, all my love and thanks for believing in my dreams.

Brad R. Cook is an award-winning short story and historical fantasy writer who handles aquistions and author management for Blank Slate Press. He began as a playwright and joined the board of St. Louis Writers Guild in 2008, guiding the organization as president since 2011. He learned to fence at thirteen and never set down his sword, but prefers curling up with his cat and an old classic novel to swashbuckling with evildoers himself. He writes during the witching hour when his muses are most active.

You can find out more at
www.bradrcook.com
.