Iron Horsemen (3 page)

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Authors: Brad R. Cook

BOOK: Iron Horsemen
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The baron smiled. “Yes it is, very good Alexander. Can you read more?”

I ran my finger back and forth to keep track of the sentence. “They wanted a new city…for trade…no, to conquer North Africa. They found… cities in ruin…that people had lived in before but were wiped out.” I stepped back and cocked my head. “I'm not sure about this next part. The people stopped a great evil … four … four horsemen and hid their secret … the rest is missing.”

Lord Marbury asked with a twinge of fear, “Did you just say four horsemen?”

I leaned back and nodded. “It's probably just imagery. It's two thousand years too soon to be the Bible.”

The baron nodded. “Her Majesty was right to put her faith in the Armitages. So Malta is where they are heading.” He walked up and placed his hand upon my shoulder. “You'll stay here this night; it will be safer than Eton.”

I didn't know what else to do, but maybe I'd wake up in the morning and this would all be over.

The baron turned toward the hall. “My dear do come in, it's rude to lurk outside rooms where gentlemen are
conversing.”

A young woman stepped into the doorway. Auburn hair fell past her shoulders, but was pulled back from her face with a ribbon I could see trailing over her shoulder. A locket hung around her neck on a silver chain. She wore the high collar and long skirt popular with the noble women of London, but lacked their usual docile expression. She nodded to Lord Marbury but her eyes widened when she spotted me. She was so beautiful. I couldn't stop staring. I turned away before anyone could note my fascination.

Her soft voice carried an accent like a sweet melody. “Father, I was not lurking, mere curiosity drew me.”

“Genevieve, Master Alexander shall be staying the night. Mrs. Hinderman has already prepared the Blue Room, please escort our guest there.”

Genevieve bowed and I followed her out of the room. She led me to the second floor. Trailing her, the smell of rose petals caused my mind to slip. I studied the way her hair brushed against her back as I fidgeted with the strap of my bag.

Once on the second floor her demeanor changed. No longer did she float, there was hardness in her steps and she appeared annoyed. “Did you hear him? I was not lurking. How dare he say such a thing in front of—” She stopped and turned to face me. “I am sorry about your father.”

The words stuttered out of my mouth. “T-thank you.” Smooth, real smooth, why don't I just spill something and fall down while I'm making impressions.

“It's Alexander, isn't it?”

“Yes, my father is sort of obsessed with the Greeks. He has high aspirations. I'm surprised my middle name isn't ‘The Great.'”

She laughed and I smiled. Maybe she wasn't like the other nobles.

We reached the end of the hall and entered the Blue
Room. It was indeed a blue room. Dark blue paper with gold accents covered the walls. The ceiling had been painted a lighter blue and the four-post wooden bed was covered in a blue spread; even the paintings depicted great ships or seaside landscapes. I couldn't escape the blue. The only thing not blue was me.

She motioned to a braided cord hanging by the bed. “Ring the bell for Ms. Hinderman if you need anything.”

I nodded.

Genevieve paused by the door. “I'm certain he'll find your father. We won't get to know the details, but my father has never failed her majesty.”

I tried to smile, but the ache in my heart returned with a vengeance.

CHAPTER 4
LIFE AT ETON

A shrill voice jarred me awake as Mrs. Hinderman said, “Good morning, Master Armitage.”

Light stung my eyes as she threw open the curtains. I rubbed the sleep away and Mrs. Hinderman stood at the end of the blue bedspread.

What could she want?
I grumbled, but her smile grew.

“I've cleaned your school uniform, and breakfast will be served momentarily.”

“I'll be down in a moment.”

The hem of her long skirt brushed the floor as Mrs. Hinderman swept out of the room. “Don't be long.”

I struggled to get my school uniform on, as I did every day. It was stiff, it was tight, and once bound in all the layers I could hardly move.

Genevieve opened the door and I snapped up. “Mrs. Hinderman asked me to bring you to breakfast.”

I pulled at the white bow-tie and starched collar. “Thanks, I'll be there as soon as I can breathe.”

She waved my hand away. “Stop tugging. You'll tear off your buttons and wrinkle it.”

“My father said it was like a suit of armor, but it's not, feels more like a strait jacket.”

Her cute little chuckle, like a cooing bird, drew all my
insides up into my throat, choking my words.

I cleared my throat, forcing everything back into place. “Do you think the baron will find my father today?”

“I hope so. Maybe by the time you return from Eton, he'll have news.”

I wanted to believe her, but my thoughts shifted to the teasing that was certain to come from the aristocratic bullies at school. I heard their annoying voices already. “I'm not looking forward to my classes.”

Genevieve stepped back. “Why not?” her eyes grew and held a glimmer of surprise.

Had I said something wrong?
My foot hit the floor. How could I not admit that the noble kids would tease me? “Umm…”

Her hand glided over the window sill. “I would be ecstatic if I could go to Eton.”

“Where do you go to school?” I asked. Hopefully we wouldn't go back to subjects I'd rather not explain.

“I don't go to school. I have a tutor.”

“That is so much better than school.”

Her hands clenched in fists and she stomped her foot. “I only get to study what my father decides, and he's deemed certain subjects inappropriate for a lady. It's frustrating.”

My shoulders slumped. I'd upset her. “Sorry, I didn't know you couldn't go.”

Of course there were no girls at Eton, just the future aristocratic leaders of Britain, and me.

We didn't say a word on the way down to breakfast. Genevieve held her lip between her teeth and her gaze fell far beyond the walls. My thoughts drifted to my father, my joints stiffened with every step, and my heart slipped deeper in my chest.
Where was he? Was he alright?

The juice, eggs, fruits, pastries, and bread overwhelmed me with choices, delicious smells, and the tastiest treats I'd had since arriving in London.

I devoured the pastries and fruit like I'd forgotten how to use a fork.

Mrs. Hinderman took away my plate and said, “You look very dapper, Master Armitage. Let's keep it that way.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I managed a smile. “Where is the baron?”

The elderly lady supported her back with her hand. “Oh, he left with the rising sun. Didn't say where he was traveling, but I'm certain he's doing all he can to find your father.”

I nodded and my smile stretched across my cheeks as I wiped my face. I could suffer through the day if my father would be waiting when I returned. Even with his strict manner and emphasis on my studies, he was my father. I wanted him back safe and sound.

I stepped toward the front door. Mrs. Hinderman held my leather bag. She placed it over my shoulder and kissed my head. “Now you have a good day at Eton, pay attention, and put this business out of your head for a while.”

How could I forget?
My head shrank into my shoulders to avoid her, but no one had been so tender since my mother's passing. Mrs. Hinderman's bright smile reminded me of a grandmother. “I'll try.”

“Finn will take you to school and bring you home.” She gripped my shoulders. “The baron was very clear that you should not go with anyone but Finn. It's for your safety, do you understand?”

I said, “Yes,” but that was before I'd thought about the question: Was I in danger? Would the men in long black coats come back? My legs twitched as if electricity pulsed through my veins. The baron wouldn't let me go to Eton if it weren't safe.
If I keep repeating that, maybe it'll be true
.

Finn sat on the driver's perch of the steamcarriage. I nodded and stepped inside. Soon the carriage belched white smoke and cruised down the cobblestone streets.

The world raced by and I tried to remain upright as the baron had the day before. I finally had what I wanted, to be on my own, free from my father's stern looks. Now, though, all I wanted was to be forced to read some ancient Greek text.

The carriage stopped before a red brick building. Lighter colored stones formed patterns while black segmented rainspouts climbed the walls. The old building had an eerie look, brightly colored by a morning rain. I opened the door and joined the stream of boys in black coats and white ties that filed into through the main door.

Finn called from the carriage, “Try and have a good day, kid.”

With a nod I turned and walked into Eton, lost in a world blurred by tears.

As I passed through the colonnade of one building, I saw the shattered window of my father's office across the courtyard. Its jagged edges mirrored my world, and just like that window, I couldn't put the pieces back together. Two days ago, my biggest concern was homework, but now fear for my father crushed my shoulders and weighted down my back. With hunched shoulders, I found my way to class, without even knowing how I'd gotten there. I stepped into my school and all eyes turned toward me, their questioning gazes like arrows piercing my heart.

“Glad you could join us Master Armitage. Please have a seat,” the professor said.

Obviously the professor knew what had happened. Otherwise, I'd have been reported for being late. I wanted to rip off my wool armor and run, but I sat down.

Eton's desks were connected in long rows unlike my classes in America. I took a seat on a bench in the back of the class, but had to slide past some other boys. I slumped down and tried to disappear.

The professor pointed to the black board. “Well
gentlemen, I hope you're ready for the exam. Remember this will focus exclusively on the Tesla experiments we ran last week.”

A loud groan erupted from my classmates, and I slipped further into my chair.
Could this day get any worse?

The white parts of the test, the part I was supposed to fill in, stared back like a vast arctic expanse. I dipped my quill pen in the inkwell at the top of my section of the bench desk. I wrote my name—that was easy—but as I tried to read the first question my mind spun and tears blurred my vision.
Why was I taking a test when my father could be in danger?

The other students stood to leave and beyond a couple of ink dribbles from the end of my quill, the page was empty. I flipped it over hoping the answers would be on the back: blank.

I'd spent the class worried about my dad, not the answers. I hadn't taken the test. My classmates handed over their exams and filed out the room.

I quickly scribbled ‘Sorry' at the bottom of the page, ran up and slipped the paper into the middle of the stack. I ran from the room, the long tails of my coat flapping behind him.

I ran until my arm was snatched by Count Blackthorne's son. “So what happened to your father, colonist?”

“Let me go!”

“I saw his office. Did the cowboy trash it like some western saloon?”

“Thadeus, leave me alone.”

The young nobleman with the good looking hair turned to his friends and laughed. “Ah, poor baby, do you need a wet nurse?”

Anger swelled within me until I was nearly blind with it. I wasn't a baby. I was tired of being bullied, and my fists clenched until my knuckles hurt. I couldn't punch him. I
wanted to, but my father and the headmasters of Eton had made it clear. If I fight, I get shipped back to America.

Thadeus pressed both palms against my chest. I stumbled over his feet and slammed into the wall. Pain rippled across my body as he and his friends laughed wildly.

I whipped around and locked eyes with the nobleman's son. “Don't push me!” The strap's rough edge of my leather bag dug into my tightening palms. I swung the bag loaded with books into Thadeus' side.

“Stop, you crazed colonial.” Thadeus and his friends tried to run, but I kept swinging in a wild rage. Tears streamed down my face as I continued to pummel the nobleman's son.

Thadeus and his friends charged through the nearest door yelling for a master.

I struggled to catch my breath and calm my nerves as I leaned against the bricks. I punched the wall, hoping to force these hateful feelings out, but all I did was scrape my knuckles which started to ache.

Beside me an engraved plaque had been mounted in the wall. It had been engraved with several names and above them was written: Waterloo 1815. These memorials scattered throughout Eton held the names of those students who made the ultimate sacrifice in war.

I knew I shouldn't have lashed out at my classmate. Seeing these names reminded me of what really mattered in life. Would my father be the next name added to one of these plaques? My fingers traced each name and the fire tearing through me eased as my breathing slowed. Life was never easy.

Just when I thought the Headmaster would come and kick me out of Eton for good, Finn walked up.

“Come on, kid.” Finn wrung his hat through his hand. “The baron sent me to fetch you.”

“Did he find my father?”

“The baron's in the carriage.”

I cautiously approached the steamcarriage. Finn opened the door and I climbed in. The baron and his daughter sat on one side, so I dropped onto the other seat with my back to the driver's perch.

“Did you find my father?”

The baron shook his head. “Not yet. I'm about to arrange passage to pursue him.”

I didn't understand what that meant, but the baron's expression didn't look like he wanted to talk. Then the carriage sped off.

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