Cut and Run: The Fourth Book in the Fighting Sail Series Read Online Free Page A

good putting fresh beasts in a dirty stall.” The seaman stood up awkwardly and grinned. King noticed the long pigtail that marked him as a man of several years’ service. His gaze fell to the deck and even in the dim light he could see that a workmanlike job was being done.
           “Very good,” he said, and went to pass on, when he noticed the man regarding him strangely. “Was there something?”
           “No, sir.” The man looked away quickly and, slinking back to the deck, began to scrub again.
           King paused, uncertain. “What is your name?”
           The brush stopped for no more than a second. “Johnston, sir.” His voice was low, almost muffled, but there was something about that pigtail that stuck in King's mind.
           “Have we served together in the past?”  
           “Don't believe so, sir.” The scrubbing continued, possibly a littler harder than before.
           Johnston. It wasn't a name he remembered. There were noises from above. Something was happening on the upper deck that may well require his attention. But, the man did seem oddly familiar and he opened his mouth to say more when another voice came through the upper grating, “Mr King, are you below, sir?”
           “What is it, Ward?”
           “Looks like captain and chief mate are a comin' aboard, sir.”
           King snorted. There was still a deal to do but at least he had a better ship to show them. “Very good, Johnston,” he said, and moved on.
     
    * * *
     
           The gloomy winter afternoon was just starting to give way to dusk when King joined Ward on the starboard gangboard. The boatswain's mate pointed out to where a wherry was approaching, crowded with officers. King looked around; there were no sideboys on board, no marine guard; he would have to greet his new captain without any Navy ceremony.
           “Boat ahoy!” Ward's hail rang out across the water just as Manning came up from the depths, followed by an inquisitive Kate.
           “ Pevensey Castle! ”
           The reply confirmed Ward's suspicions, King tried to make out the dark figure dressed in a boat cloak who sat in the sternsheets. The captain of any ship held the ultimate power: he could make or break a commission. A bad report from this shadowy man would seriously influence his future in the merchant service. They waited in silence while the boat drew nearer, and finally came to a halt next to the staging.
           “Right then, line up and pay some respect.” Ward was forming six ordinary seamen up into a welcoming party and, as the captain's hat appeared above the entry port, the squeal of a bosun's pipe shattered the silence of the dark afternoon. Manning and Kate drew forward in anticipation, but King stayed right where he was. The man was in full view now, and glared down the line, appearing to find fault in all that he saw. His gaze swept round to the officers, softening slightly and pausing to take in the young woman appreciatively. Then, it rested on King, and a hint of evil humour appeared. He smirked, and nodded his head very slightly.
           “Mr King, what a joy it is to see you once more.”
           King's mouth was dry; a store of seemingly forgotten memories flooded into his mind, bringing back the very atmosphere of the officers' quarters in Vigilant . It had all happened several years ago, but the recollections were fresh and not in the least pleasant. And here was the cause, the man himself, standing in front of him, and wearing the uniform of an East India Company captain. His captain, his superior officer, and for the whole of the commission.
           “Rogers!” he said. The word came out involuntarily, but he was alert enough to bite back those that were keen to follow.  
           “Indeed it is, Mr King,” the man said coldly. “And I am not insensible to the fact that the pleasure appears to be