“I thought I’d stay in Ledcombe my whole life,” he said.“The village carrier.That was all I ever wanted.My days spent out in my cart, crossing the moors, and then back home to Ledcombe at journey’s end.I thought Carrie would marry one of the boys next door and set up house in the village.I’d have nieces and nephews, children around me in my old age… Maybe I’d take on one of my nephews in the carrying line of work.”
Carrie was a year younger than him, but when they were children she could hold her own against any boy in the village.She’d never seemed like a little sister, but always an equal companion and playmate.When their parents died young, she’d taken care of him as much as he had of her.He couldn’t understand how she could have changed so much.Or maybe she’d never been the person he thought she was.
Tomorrow, he and Solomon would be back in Barnstaple, and they’d be meeting Wallace for a drink at the Boar.Solomon had said Wallace knew someone who might help Jed write to Carrie.
Writing to Carrie… It was something he’d been putting off, and he knew it.He was afraid of what her reply might be.
The chilly night air prickled his skin, and he couldn’t suppress a shiver.
“I suppose we’d better get back to the waggon,” he said reluctantly.They’d given one of the stable lads tuppence to watch over it, but they couldn’t stay away forever.
Solomon made a noise of agreement, and they both got to their feet.The sun had disappeared behind the trees, and here in the shadow of the hedgerow it was so dark they could not even see each other’s faces.On impulse, Jed reached out, pulling Solomon to him, arms about his waist.Solomon’s lips met his in the darkness.
Jed had never wanted his life to go this way, but it did bring him here to Solomon.And that made up for an awful lot.
“I’ll do that,” Jed said, taking Norris’s place at the horses’ heads.“You just get the harness put away.”
He liked working with Norris, but the man had a tendency to dawdle, and Jed had plans to meet Solomon and Wallace at the Boar in a quarter of an hour.
He and Solomon had returned from Exeter late the previous evening, and the head yardman had immediately sent Jed out again on a short delivery with Norris.But fortunately they’d returned with just enough time to spare for Jed to make it to the Boar on time.
He clicked his tongue, prompting the two horses into motion.They followed him into the stables, where one of the grooms came to meet them.
“Evening, Wren,” Jed said cheerfully.
“Evening, Trevithick,” Wren said, throwing Jed a rubbing cloth.“You take the bay, I’ll take the piebald.”
Jed whistled under his breath as he worked.He had wages in his pocket, and the prospect of drinks with a man he’d been curious about for weeks now.Moreover, he hadn’t lost his temper with anyone in at least three days.Maybe he could finally put those bursts of choler behind him.
And tonight, with any bit of luck, he could catch a few minutes alone with Solomon again—
Behind him, Wren let out a sudden, harsh oath.Jed turned.
Wren was bent over the piebald’s near foreleg.A fresh, jagged wound marred the skin, blood spurting with each heartbeat.
“What—”
“Caught on a nail,” Wren bit out.“Give me a hand here, would you?”
It was one of those leg wounds that bled copiously.Bright red blood was rushing down the foreleg, pooling on the floor.
Jed’s throat was so tight he couldn’t breathe.His vision swam.He was on board a ship—some French frigate—and battle raged around him.The rigging above was cut to pieces, and the deck was a mess of splinters, a foot long and more, from the pounding theCanterbury’s guns had given this frigate a few minutes earlier.
Ahead of him, a lieutenant urging him on.Behind him, the Marines, ready to shoot any man who tried to hang back.
Jed and his shipmates surged forwards, plunging into the waiting mass of crewmen from the French ship.Jed swung his boarding-axe, hitting some poor Frenchman’s head with the flat of it.There was a sickening thud, and the unhappy bugger crumpled where he stood.Jed couldn’t stop to see what became of him—he was swept onwards with the rest of the boarding party, inexorable.
His ears rang with the thunder of small arms fire and the bellowing of orders.His clothes were soaked with blood; he didn’t know if it was French or English.Among the din, someone was shouting, “For Christ’s sake, man, what’s the matter with you?”
Dimly, Jed was aware of the stables.The injured piebald.Wren, shouting at him.“What’s the matter with you?”
Another groom had appeared, seemingly from nowhere; Jed hadn’t even seen him arrive.The man was holding the piebald’s head, and Wren was trying to tie a knot in the bandage he’d wrapped around the foreleg.
The second horse, the bay Jed had been rubbing down, reared into the air with a nervous whinny, unhappy at being trapped in a small space with the commotion and the smell of blood.
“Don’t just stand there, man, get that horse out of the way,” Wren shouted at Jed.“Before one of us gets a hoof to the head.”
Jed grabbed the bay’s harness, whispering calming nonsense to her, hardly knowing what he said.He led her away into one of the boxes.
